In Support of Transgender Rights

First of all, my apologies for the late posting today.

More importantly, here is my creative offering to stand in solidarity with Transgender and Intersex people. I have been meaning to comment on this important human rights issue well before now but wasn't sure how best to set it out. This morning I woke up with a familiar song in my head and recognized instantly that it was the answer I'd been looking for.

This song was written by Lou Reed, performed by the Velvet Underground, and dedicated to Candy Darling, a transwoman who frequented Andy Warhol's Factory scene.




Candy says, "I've come to hate my body
And all that it requires in this world."

Candy says, "I'd like to know completely
What others so discreetly talk about."

I'm gonna watch the blue birds fly
over my shoulder
I'm gonna watch 'em pass me by
maybe when I'm older

What do you think I'd see
if I could walk away from me?

Candy says, "I hate the quiet places
That cause the smallest taste of what will be"

Candy says, "I hate the big decisions
That cause endless revisions in my mind"

I'm gonna watch the blue birds fly
over my shoulder
I'm gonna watch 'em pass me by
maybe when I'm older

What do you think I'd see
if I could walk away from me?

Another Poem (and the Story Behind It)

I had been listening to Blur's self-titled 1997 album , in particular a song entitled "Death of a Party". It made me think about that point in a party where people start leaving en masse to go home or go other places. Parties for me are both fun and terrifying, and I decided to analyze the dynamics that go into them.

____________________________________

The Death of the Party

At evening’s end
exaggerations
caricature

remain when all else
has long passed away

Conversation competition
cleverest victory can
circumvent the social hierarchy

Yet, age and experience
trumps youth’s insecurity

Humor—
the wild card

The catalyst
for social mobility

Older party-goers
establish the rules

Remember similar
defeats

Inadvertent misinterpretation
Reflects intention

Quote of the Week

“Whether one believes in a religion or not, and whether one believes in rebirth or not, there isn't anyone who doesn't appreciate kindness and compassion.”- The Dalai Lama

Saturday Video

Cherry Blossoms

The "Poor" Will Always Be With Us

Today is Good Friday and as a result I pause to reflect upon a particularly crucial passage of the story that is as frequently misunderstood as it is frequently quoted. In it, the actions and responses of the principle players still speak to us, even 2,000 years later. The impetus and motivation upon which Judas makes the ignoble decision to betray Jesus lies with this anecdote. I cite it today in an attempt to put the impeding Crucifixion in context. Chronologically the verses fall shortly before Palm Sunday, where Jesus rode triumphantly into Jerusalem to the adoration of thousands of cheering supporters. Jesus has stopped to rest at Lazarus' house, the man who he had but recently raised from the dead.

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, "Why wasn't this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year's wages."

He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. "Leave her alone," Jesus replied. "[It was intended] that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me."

Judas was a Zealot, a member of a Jewish political movement devoted to the removal of the occupying Roman Empire by any means necessary. At first, Judas assumed that the Kingdom which Jesus talked about was an earthly one to be established after a violent conflict. However, once he discovered that the Kingdom of Heaven was a spiritual state arrived at neither through violence, nor through material gain, Judas made the decision to betray Him. Judas' primary devotion was to money and profit, and thus his own selfishness belied his rationalization.

Some have believed over the centuries that Jesus meant that there would always be poverty and that we ought not to worry about it. This is not the case at all. In honesty, I have always felt that Jesus' response in this situation is directed squarely towards activists, particularly those on the Left. So often we justify our actions and deeds under the guise of piety. It is easy to make a great show out of doing what is best for the less fortunate, especially when our true motives are neither noble nor especially charitable. But there's also a second dynamic at play too, the idea that our own human desires to help people are subordinate to God's plan for us. It is as if Jesus is saying "You'll always have some excuse or some reason to seem socially conscious. After all, the "poor" will always be with you. If it isn't the "poor" today, it'll be something else tomorrow." If it isn't Darfur today it'll be Katrina, and if it isn't Katrina, it'll be Haiti.

Good intentions quickly become obscured by profit, accumulation, and a desire to win the adulation and approval of others. We fight against the injustice of the world, but often are distracted from the ultimate mission at hand by worldly temptations. Mostly we wish to superimpose our own will and our own itinerary upon the work we do for others, and I imagine God laughs as He brushes that aside. As for me, so long as I follow that voice inside myself that is God and is divinely inspired, I will never go wrong. When I deviate from that guidance and that surety of purpose for whatever reason, then I find myself running into complications and frustrating situations with no resolution. God's plan for me might be scary at times, but it is never confusing or unclear.

For many people it is difficult to have faith in something that is unfamiliar or cannot be comfortingly explained by reason or readily available information. Humanity is, as we know, inherently mortal and inherently flawed, so missteps and problems are inevitable. Perhaps the best perfection we can achieve is that of complete trust and obedience to a guidance beyond ourselves, one that will not always place us in comfortable spaces, but will certainly always ensure that we are learning and growing. Our resistance is often designed as a means of preventing ourselves from being uncomfortable or braving the unfamiliar, but to be guided by God never promises the easy way out. We can take comfort not that we will always have all the answers, but that we can reach a point where we know that answers will be granted in due time, and in the meantime we will never be given a greater burden than we can handle. In many respects, this is almost Zen-like in its application.

I wish that someday the "poor" might not be with us, as I recognize that there will always be work to do and that inequality and injustice are unlikely to leave us any time soon. May we resolve to help those who need it with a singular purpose of service, setting aside anything else we might wish in the process. That which we need will be provided. We have everything at our disposal that we could possibly ever want, and my prayer is that someday we'll believe it.

Motion Pictures

Motion pictures

on my TV screen,
A home away from home,
and I'm living in between

But I hear some people
have got their dream.

I've got mine.

I hear the mountains
are doing fine,

Morning glory
is on the vine,

And the dew is falling,
the ducks are calling.

Yes, I've got mine.

Well, all those people,
they think
they got it made


But I wouldn't buy,
sell, borrow or trade
Anything I have
to be like one of them.

I'd rather
start all over again.

Well, all those headlines,
they just bore me now

I'm deep inside myself,
but I'll get out somehow,

And I'll stand before you,
and I'll bring
a smile to your eyes.

Motion pictures,
motion pictures.

Congressional Problems are DC Problems, Too

Last night I attended a Happy Hour/meet up pitched by an outreach advocacy group called Women, Action, and the Media. The organization's stated object is to combat the still-shockingly vast degree of gender inequality that exists in the field and in so doing move towards complete parity. Moreover, the gathering was designed in particular to network, as the group itself notes, media makers, activists, academics, and fundraisers. I agree very strongly with the sentiment, so I decided to attend in order to see what other people had to say. My hope was that I might have some interesting, enlightening conversations. Suffice it to say that I was not disappointed. Yet, I nonetheless began to get a greater picture of the challenges facing not just women's rights but also those of all those who are a part of the media to some degree or another. Many of these pitfalls standing in our way have nothing to do at all with sexism and or even the Old Boy's club of the mainstream media.

Welcome to Washington, DC, a world of think tanks, non-profits, and journalistic enterprises. One could also call it paradise for the Type A personality, the person who enjoys regimenting his or her life with military precision. It is heaven for those who enjoy having each and every hour in the day filled with something and who learn to divide his or her attention between the task at hand while periodically glancing downward at a Blackberry. In this town, it often seems like everyone meets someone for a drink after work, but only for an hour or so, since there's always something else terribly important to do after that. Many of the movers and shakers present were very much indebted to that sort of lifestyle, the basis of which I have frequently been critical because it seems designed to produce inevitable burn out, if not a heart attack. But I digress.

To qualify, my skepticism is not directed towards those in attendance whose energetically articulated vision was to change the world, which was true with just about everyone I encountered. We need more people who love what they do and are enthusiastic about it. Instead, my reservations focus squarely upon organizational structure. These sorts of outfits build whole galaxies of worthy initiatives, training seminars, and important-sounding programs that manage to exist in complete isolation, totally unknown, to the other 5,000 similar organizations covering much the same ground. True networking does not involve finding ways to achieve a higher paying job or padding one's nest. Rather, it takes into account the idea that by combining forces and getting on the same page with those running over the same relative territory, gender justice can proceed forward and efforts to encourage it might become a reality.

These days I am not easily impressed when someone rattles off for me the particulars of whatever they're working on right now. I know they're not trying to impress me, of course, and I know they really do believe that their initiative to say, encourage media participation for women in third-world countries is going to make a huge impact. On a very limited basis, it will do good, but unless paired with other forces, the plan will be a mere drop in the bucket. Unless serious efforts are made to reach out and build bridges of communication, whatever gets set forth and put into action is just another dot in a sea of similarity. DC, after all, reflects the nature of Congress, whose own esoteria and minutia often end up submerging worthy bills and legislation under the deluge of statutes, procedural measures, and utterly useless proposals.

Sometimes I think the biblical story of the Tower of Babel is meant to illustrate this point. These organizations, like the Tower itself, grow taller and taller and taller, but they don't grow outward that much, and in so doing don't easily reach out to others. Instead, they are in love with their own language, just as much as those in the story used their own lingua fresca to serve as a common basis for organization. The Tower of Babel was not built for the worship and praise of a higher purpose but was instead dedicated to the glory of humanity, to "make a name" for the builders. I don't believe that that DC organizations put forth their agendas with malicious intent, but they nonetheless mirror the way things have always been in Washington, a course of action which has proved to be not especially effective in the long run, a viewpoint currently shared by a majority of Americans. One can work purely to climb the ladder or work to advance humanity's understanding.

I took liberty with one other issue. Some in attendance last night were well-connected employees for Mainstream Media outlets. They talked excitedly about the ways that newspapers had adopted New Media tactics and as such were hiring lots of bloggers to keep pace with changing times. Again, do pardon my skepticism. I myself have never seen any of these jobs posted anywhere and the few somewhat like it that are advertised are quickly snapped up by those who have impressive credentials. As it is with so much, these sorts of positions are the domain of the well-connected and often the well-heeled, further casting doubt on a system supposedly predicated on the idea of meritocracy. One mustn't forget that blogs sprung up in opposition to attitudes such as these and for a very good reason.

The system itself is flawed in lots of ways, from the Old Boy Network, to hiring practices which insist a person have exacting credentials to even be considered, to tactics which feign to introduce citizen journalists into the picture while more or less keeping the status quo intact. The intersectionality which we seek within our own movements must be that of both action and intellect, else our own hard work and idealism produce frustratingly minimal results.

But he, knowing their thoughts, said to them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and a house divided against a house falls.

Performance Video

For about the past year or so, I've been experimenting with alternate tunings. In particular, I've been frequently covering songs tuned a full step down. Lou Reed uses it frequently to put the song into his range, and as such it utilizes a singer's lower register. 90's grunge and heavy metal use it quite a bit, though mostly with electric guitar, not acoustic.

This song, however, was designed to be played on an acoustic guitar and is also the most covered song in the history of recorded music.

What I Would Ask My Congressperson (If I Had One)

This week's question for John King's new Make Your Case, America show asked what question or brief comment I would mention to my Congressperson. The District of Columbia, of course, doesn't exactly have one.

Assuming I had a car, wanted one, and could afford it, my DC license plates would read "Taxation Without Representation". If anyone has a legitimate means of invoking the Boston Tea Party and the rebelling American colonists who started the whole thing off, we do.

Another Busy Day

Tea Party Madness: Old School Prejudice's Last Stand

At the outset of the Tea Party demonstrations, comparisons were made to The Civil War by myself and other people. In retrospect, this was far too generous a comparison to make. I hardly wish to grant such people so high a compliment, even one rendered ignobly. In much more eloquent terms than I, people have recently dissected the motives and behavior of the mob, and fortunately its crackpot ideology is not as widespread as was the secessionist sentiment in the South in 1860. Those times were the apex of more than two decade's worth of upheaval and violence, the likes of which we have yet to see since, and which I hope to never see again. It takes more than just one unpopular bill to give people cause to most citizens to arm themselves en masse in open rebellion. Many may not support health care reform, but they feel no compulsion to vandalize offices, spit on legislators, and hurl epithets. These are merely the actions of a few reactionary imbeciles.

The behavior of the Republican Party towards the Teabaggers, by contrast, is what I find most reprehensible. Never was a mutually parasitic relationship more shockingly transparent. The GOP sees the Tea Party as its meal ticket back to power and will never condemn its tactics outright since doing so risks losing its endorsement. However, it is a slippery slope that Republicans are scaling here, and making a Faustian bargain has proven to be the eventual undoing of many. Fear of change and fear of the unknown is the energy source of this movement, but it goes much deeper than this, too.

If one had to summarize the most profound anxiety of the Tea Party set, it would be a belief that when whites lose their status as the majority racial group that they will in effect lose their grip on power and in so doing be punitively punished and subjugated by whichever minority group happens to control the gavel. One sees evidence of this fear way back in 1915 in a particularly offensive, but nonetheless emotionally powerful scene from The Birth of a Nation, whereby the Reconstruction-era legislative body in the state of South Carolina, the majority of which is comprised of newly freed African-Americans, takes great pleasure in passing retaliatory laws which reduce whites to the status of second-class citizens. This particular excerpt was such a successful piece of conservative agitprop that, as late as the 1960's, it was shown in schools and presented as though it were the God's honest truth. The underlying message is, I regret to admit, a viewpoint stressed by many I have known in my own life and many I know now. Regardless of its veracity, it is a nonetheless powerful idea to implant into the mind of anyone at a formative year in one's development and a difficult one to undo once it has blossomed.

A backlash against racial quotas, Affirmative Action, and our system of social service agencies for the poor also motivates those compelled to entertain the worst-case-scenario and a particularly dim view of progress. The belief among many Teabaggers is that the continued existence of these programs only perpetuates an underclass mentality of laziness and inactivity when people just need to get off of their derrieres and go to work. This is nothing new, of course. What might be new is the messenger. If the Tea Party has any African-American voice in solidarity, it is probably Pastor James David Manning, whose abrasive, provocative sermons threaten and chastise black people to start working hard and to refuse to rely on welfare because if they don't, and I quote, "Mexicans will be signing your paychecks". Manning's most recent attack, the language of which I have more-or-less pulled directly from its description of a YouTube clip, has centered on his assertion that President Obama, who he derisively calls "The Long Legged Mack Daddy", was, in fact, a C.I.A operative who used Columbia University as a cover to go to Pakistan in 1981 when the CIA and the Mujahideen worked together against the Soviet Invasion. Manning insists, with a straight face, that Obama supplied arms, logistics, and money using his Muslim background. Manning's ATLAHWorldwide ministry even seeks to put the President on trial for this accusation.

Among certain whites, a resumption of the militant voices of the Black Panthers and Malcolm X with the first black President in the White House are still latent fears among some, particularly those who remember Black Power. I recall during the 2008 campaign having a largely frustrating discussion with a staunchly Republican voter, a man my late Grandfather's age, who was convinced Barack Obama would rule like a combination of Louis Farrakhan and Jesse Jackson. When I mentioned, quite offhandedly, that he was, in fact, biracial, and furthermore had been raised by a white mother and a white Grandmother, his fears were assuaged considerably. When I added that, furthermore, Obama was a Christian, not a Muslim, this also went a long way towards assuaging his anxieties. I wish I had not had to resort to these tactics, but by that point I was frankly tired of listening to one distortion of the facts after another and decided to try my best to short-circuit a rant.

The good news is that, very shortly, those of a certain generational mindset will die, and with them will perish many of the more infuriating elements of the Tea Party that have raised the blood pressure of so many in recent days. This isn't to say that problems won't always exist and there won't be a need for Progressives to continue to push forward against a tremendous amount of resistance on the other side, but rather to say that attitudes which have historically blighted our past will very shortly cease to blight our future. This is the natural course of events as it always has been. Our time here has always been limited, though we are often not aware of how finite we are until we reach the end of our lives. This then, might be the best encapsulation of that which we see now, the last gasp of those who are frothing at the mouth because they recognize at last their own mortality and in so doing, know that they are on their way out.

Quotes of the Week

I couldn't decide between the two of them, so I decided to post them both.

-The Editor
_______________



"It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men."- Frederick Douglass




"If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?"- Abraham Lincoln

Saturday Video

Re-enacting the Past to Serve the Future

The stereotypical definition of Feminists held by many is that they are frigid, miserable, depressed, angry, and obsessed with finding systemic fault in every man and under every rock. I find evidence of this sentiment no matter who I ask or where I search. In response, I will say only that every activist movement has a tendency at times to let anger at the status quo threaten to overshadow its altruistic policies predicated on compassion. However, this characterization isn't exactly justified for a variety of reasons. With the passage of time the radical, reactive voices within Feminism have been held up to highest scrutiny---the implication being that they must surely speak for the whole. The ultimate fault in why this assumption has been allowed to thrive and grow is not easily assigned, but a drop off in active involvement within the movement as a whole is regrettably a big part of the problem.

Institutional memory in American liberalism is often in short supply. We frequently forget the trailblazers and fostering mothers and fathers that guided us because so many of the rank-and-file have left or devoted their attention toward other things. Feminism once was quite fashionable, as was participation and proud membership within groups like NOW, along with the omnipresent subscription to Ms. magazine. Looking specifically at membership in a wide cross-section of left-wing movements, I note with some trepidation that we are now neither losing, neither are we gaining. As one person leaves, another springs up to take his/her place. But when this happens, the newcomers find themselves severely challenged by the ability to use the breakthroughs and lessons of the past and put them in their proper context.

Every ideological movement or group based on common identity feels a compulsion to look back into the past to find both a means of pointing to supreme authority or for help in its own discernment of ideas. As much as we embrace the future as the bellwether of the needed systemic changes to advance our agenda, we also rely heavily upon the past to grant us guidance and underscore our values. This is not a paradox in terms, but it nonetheless is a facet of Progressive thought that often times goes overlooked. Speaking specifically to the Feminist movement, this is accomplished for some by constantly alluding back to Feminist history. However, without a common memory, these names and accomplishments seem like ghostly apparitions pulled from the shadows. Without a collective sense of continuity, the most abrasive, strident voices easily rise to the top and end up dominating the entire message.

Articles like this one, penned by Dr. Louann Brizendine, who notes that she was once herself an early feminist, attempt to push back against the supposed man-haters and hair-splitters. Some points in the article itself have a facade of validity, but certain passages are especially cringe-worthy.

Perhaps the biggest difference between the male and female brain is that men have a sexual pursuit area that is 2.5 times larger than the one in the female brain. Not only that, but beginning in their teens, they produce 20 to 25-fold more testosterone than they did during pre-adolescence.

If testosterone were beer, a 9-year-old boy would be getting the equivalent of a cup a day. But a 15-year-old would be getting the equivalent of nearly two gallons a day. This fuels their sexual engines and makes it impossible for them to stop thinking about female body parts and sex.

Biological imperative has been used to excuse a variety of abhorrent behaviors. Here Brizendine runs to the "men are hormonal beasts" argument. This is a fallacy in terms for a multitude of reasons, namely that extreme sexual desire isn't purely the domain of men. Based on my informal surveys and anecdotal evidence over the years, women are just as sexually inclined as men, but have been socialized to repress it or at least to not display it openly. Speaking for myself and my own relationship, being that we are both humans, at times while out in public my attention will drift to someone attractive and at times she will do the same. In so doing, we both recognize that we feel a momentary, instant, entirely involuntary pang of jealousy as we notice this, a feeling which passes quickly and consumes perhaps five seconds total of our time. Both of us acknowledge the response as it happens and neither of us holds it against the other. But this point really is little more than a thinly-veiled dig at women who, in her mind, constantly complain about their boyfriends and husbands to no good end, feeling frigid, miserable, depressed, angry, and obsessed with finding systemic fault in every man and under every rock.

One likely wouldn't have had a need for such articles had the old coalition held together. Feminism may have a thousand mothers, but I doubt the maternity of many of them. At times I feel like they are re-enacting the past to suit their own unique understanding or their own end, since when so few of us truly understand what has come before, the historical record can easily be shaped into whichever image one wishes. This also goes for Teabaggers and Internet columnists. Without the presence of those who were there or, for that matter, those to call bullshit, the movement as a whole finds nothing solid upon which to back its claims. When a past generation of liberal thinkers stripped away much of the older canon for the sake of being radically inclusive, throwing out the baby with the bathwater in the process, it left us all without an adequate rudder and a sufficient life preserver.

If we were a faith group, we might be inclined to refer to the Bible as a means of discerning the truth and serving as a final authority. Nature abhors a vacuum, of course, and the giant sucking sound you now hear is a desperate effort to establish a new basis for trust and validation among us. The question remains---upon which do we base our claims to be Progressives? Moreover, what do Feminists cite as Gospel when questions of doctrinal authority are raised? I hardly need to note that liberalism as championship sports team or as fashion statement are ultimately short-lived endeavors (see Obama, Barack, 2008 Election). We value freedom of choice, but Progressive tourism is never going to hold together factions, keep legislation from stalemating, or redefine hateful notions of feminists and Feminism.

People have got to have a reason to want to stay and to keep coming back to the feast. The angry, radical, minority voices must be kept in check. We must encourage active, consistent participation in our own attitudes, while trying our best to reach out when informed that someone in our ranks has had enough and wants to leave. This will not be easy, but it is the only means by which to ensure that our goals and our values do not have a short shelf-life. What we say must not merely be recorded faithfully in the historical record, it must also be passed on as words of guidance and inspiration to those who will follow us. The right to hold the torch also means the right to designate a successor and facilitate an adequate transfer of power when the time arrives. Otherwise, even that which I type to you today will be long forgotten. If we do not make plans now, most of our thoughts and ideas will become the stale domain of perhaps one or two devoted archivists who have bothered to comb through a vast electronic archive, blowing off several layers of dust in the process. This does not have to be our future, but it will be if we don't start seriously addressing the problem.

Thursday Performance Video

While I navigate another complication in a convoluted social service agency, I offer this performance video to you.

The Redemptive Power of Healing

The stress of the past few weeks has reminded me of both the benefits and the drawbacks of being an adult. Perhaps you yourself can relate. Throughout the course of my daily existence, I expend a huge amount of energy attempting to navigate the world of interpersonal communication. Often I have to take account for the frailties, neuroses, personality defects, and defense mechanisms of those with whom I regularly encounter. It can at times be overwhelming and frustrating trying to not step on toes or to minimize conflict by means of damage control mode when I inadvertently do so. And as cobble together an apology and take stock of the situation, I find myself resenting the cruelty and sadism of humanity, which gives many people ample reason to build walls around themselves by means of protection. These attitudes only complicate crucial communication and trust and keep us separate from each other.

The anger of the Tea Party devotees upsets me, but what upsets me more is the degree of hostility and bitterness that has come to typify this entire process. I recognize that expecting otherwise is probably foolish, but I mourn when our nation's fabric is rent asunder for any reason. Though this sentiment has long sense passed into platitude, we are all Americans, and moreover we are all human beings who share the same land. I do not enjoy, nor particularly thrive in an atmosphere where a ceaseless war of words rages. To be sure, I do not shirk away from these situations when they arise, but after a time the constant back and forth proves to be toxic and noxious, not just to me, but to everyone.

I didn't have an especially happy childhood. Even when I was a child, I wished to be an adult. Adulthood to me represented a time where I would be taken seriously and where everyone else around me would be more or less on the same page. Now I find that this is true only up to a point. Among some I am taken seriously and among other I never will be. And as for my being on the same page with all, well, that's a matter for debate. What I have discovered that with age often comes a rapidly growing history of psychological damage, increasingly guarded personal conduct, and all of these manifestations are a form of the many lingering effects of internalized pain. Anger is really only a form of hurt, after all.

Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

I understand why many people enjoy working with children. They are unguarded, honest, vulnerable, and often endearingly sweet. Their basic nature stands in great contrast to the games we play as adults. When I still lived in Birmingham I would periodically take my turn to watch the children while the adults worshiped. When I did, I often found solace in the company of little ones who were largely nonjudgmental and lived only in the present moment. This isn't to say that children can't be just as cruel and vicious to each other as adults can, but that in conversing with them, one has less minefields to gingerly walk through and less need to plan for exit strategies.

Forgive me this question, but, friends, why must it be this complicated? What if we didn't have to read the latest New York Times bestseller just to understand how to properly interact with each other? What if it didn't take hours of therapy and thousands of dollars just to be able to be honest with our own pain and ourselves, to say nothing of the pain of others? What if we could bear to leave the armor down long enough to separate friend from foe? While some find it fascinating to observe and note the ways in which we are twisted and wizened, recording the unique nature of our scars, I find the combined impact deeply unfortunate and tragic. People to me are not a scientific experiment gone awry, they are individuals seeking love. And by love I don't necessarily mean romantic love, but agape---charitable, selfless, altruistic, and unconditional love for ourselves and for others. If we are ever going to begin the slow, but necessary process of healing, we must commit ourselves to it, all the time recognizing that the best offense isn't necessarily a good defense.

Let us resolve to be honest with that which is broken in all of us. Throw open the doors wide. Don't automatically reach for cynicism and skepticism in all situations, nor expect the worst for fear of not attaining the best. Don't recoil and draw back at someone else's immaturity or hurt directed in inappropriate ways towards inappropriate targets. Consider being like little children in all the best ways. Perhaps peace of mind isn't so elusive after all. What do we have to lose?

Another Poem and the Story Behind It

I'm still crossing off things to do from my to-do list. I hope I get the chance to put together something substantive later in the week.

This poem was written about an ex-girlfriend who was a raging alcoholic. Though not much of a drinker myself, I went out with her every evening and imbibed more than I ever would have ordinarily. It also talks about the kind of observations one notices about a significant other but doesn't dare point out to his/her face.

____________________________

I saw something of myself in you
Too much, in fact

The way you preened
before a mirror
talked a little too loudly

Projectile vomited
your life story
in the direction
of anyone within earshot

They only rolled their eyes
clucked their tongues
make circular motions
around their temples

when you weren’t looking

I tried not to notice

the intoxicated swagger
you seemed to mistake
for self-confidence

I never pointed out
the brightly lit stage
you strode upon

was held up by
contradiction and condescension

I knew
that myths and fairy tales
kept your heart beating

Thus I wasn’t surprised
to find the death
of your last panacea

covered in your own blood

People Can Be Fickle

I find it amusing, to say the least, to discover that many of the liberal bloggers who were cursing President Obama's name yesterday have resumed singing his praises. One even posted on how Obama was now the "Best President Ever", which is very much jumping the gun, at least to these eyes. Health Care Reform certainly a major accomplishment for anyone, or for that matter, any President, but one legislative success is merely a drop in the bucket compared to everything that needs to be done. So much promise has given way to stalemate and disenchantment, and many resort to hyperbole when restraint would be better served, but such is the way that humanity treats all leaders. Expect nothing less.

In Christian circles, a prevailing philosophy is that if anyone is to mirror their lives after Jesus, then he or she ought to expect similar treatment. I don't mean death on a cross but I do mean an understanding that, metaphorically speaking, the same people screaming Hosanna to the Highest on Sunday will be the very ones screaming "Crucify! Crucify!" by Friday. I don't wish to burst anyone's balloon, and we have every right to celebrate today, even with our reservations that the bill signed into law doesn't go far enough. I am not criticizing the committed, but I am pointing a finger at those who have no sense of proper proportion and act like fair-weather fans.

My Thoughts on the Day After