Comfy Daze
Last night was wonderful. Steve and Paula had a little trouble with their van, which dies in heavy rain. It of course rained quite hard last night. They made to the east side, so I was able to drive to them pretty easily, and let Steve take over the helm. We ended up getting to the show a little late, but they sat us. Steve and Paula felt bad about being late, I didn't mind a bit. Out on a Saturday night with your best friends? Everything else is icing. It was a good show, and we only missed five or ten minutes.
I of course did not suggest the best place to park, so had quite a hike. I discovered a couple things I don't like. The black coating put over old asphalt to preserve and extend it's life is one. It tends to hold a smidgen of oil, making a slick surface when it is wet, and crutch tips slide. Same with polished tile or terrazzo floors when you're coming out of the rain. My crutches slipped several times, startling, mildly painful, and encouraging. I was able to stabilize myself with the bum leg, the shin smarted like the dickens, but it was transitory, feeling fine within minutes.
After the show we went up to the Five Spot, a nice slightly funky Americana restaurant on Queen Ann Hill. Like I said, it was a wonderful evening. Great food, conversation, and most importantly, sharing with terrific friends.
Today is a day of rest, and perfect for it. Gray and drizzly outside, a couple fun movies to watch. I let Steve and Paula keep the truck last night, as it was still raining hard when we got back. They're going to visit Steve's family today, and I do feel better knowing they have a more dependable vehicle. Their van is nicer, and once the wet weather problem is solved they'll be set up nicely. Well, that means I'll get to see them briefly this evening when they get back and pick up the van.
I do have a hopeful vent regarding the holiday...
It's Sunday, and I'm tempted to say, "For the followers of myth, today is known as Easter." There, I have said it, and of course the hate mongers who are trivializing and mocking the spirituality I grew up with will condemn me to misery in Hell, while those whose hearts are not so dark and hateful may condescend to pray for me.
Though I now find Easter to be an ironic time, it remains spiritually significant. I started with my darkest feelings regarding what I think of as neo-christians. I see mainstream churches embracing hate and fear, resulting in symptoms like homo-phobia, supporting patently unjust and deliberately unseen wars, restoring racial, ethnic and religious discrimination. Seemingly anything which pigeonholes or degrades other human beings feeds their religious ecstasy. On the other hand, anything which questions their prejudice, avarice, or cowardice is summarily dismissed. I don't understand how they can read the scriptures and still be more dedicated to 'correcting' others than challenging themselves. I guess that nasty little speck in my eye is more important than the plank in theirs.
Yet I remain hopeful. Try looking at our modern fundamentalists as players in a passion play. They are the pharisees who would torture and slowly, brutally, execute those who would challenge their comfy power structure. I've heard my nephews and nieces, one of my best friend's children, and other children say when talking about neighbor kids or playmates, "They are really nice, even though they're christians." It is ironic indeed the very same neo-christians who are as quick to judge others as anyone in the history of the world, who live by stereotyping everyone around them dismiss any stereotypes they have earned as quickly as they judge others.
They are torturing God. Crucifying him/her. Using the godhead to promote a narrow agenda of hate, control, and fear. I choose to believe that despite their vigilance, love will sneak it's way back into religion. I'm sure it won't attract as many followers, because destruction comes easier to most than building. Still, like a phoenix I think something beautiful will arise from the ashes of the neo-christians orgy of destruction. Will it still be christianity? Who can say? I don't think the symbolism and parables used to teach are especially important to God, rather I believe the struggle to be the best we can is how we honor God. Whether we identify the essence of God as a terrible and compassionate fellow with a beard and a son named Jesus, Gaea, the space needle, some dude named Harold, or simply an archaic description of what we don't understand, it does not matter. The essence, striving to make ourselves better and honoring what he/she stands for rather than condemning those around us, is what matters.
I'd like to see the resurrection of godliness in religion in my lifetime. Whether I do or not, Easter gives me hope evil will not always be able to assume a righteous mask unchallenged, posing as good. That is my hope, and I suppose, faith. Another irony, a belief that 'faith' will not always be whored by those afraid to really challenge themselves by listening to what God has to tell them. Here's to divine irony, and a brighter future.
I of course did not suggest the best place to park, so had quite a hike. I discovered a couple things I don't like. The black coating put over old asphalt to preserve and extend it's life is one. It tends to hold a smidgen of oil, making a slick surface when it is wet, and crutch tips slide. Same with polished tile or terrazzo floors when you're coming out of the rain. My crutches slipped several times, startling, mildly painful, and encouraging. I was able to stabilize myself with the bum leg, the shin smarted like the dickens, but it was transitory, feeling fine within minutes.
After the show we went up to the Five Spot, a nice slightly funky Americana restaurant on Queen Ann Hill. Like I said, it was a wonderful evening. Great food, conversation, and most importantly, sharing with terrific friends.
Today is a day of rest, and perfect for it. Gray and drizzly outside, a couple fun movies to watch. I let Steve and Paula keep the truck last night, as it was still raining hard when we got back. They're going to visit Steve's family today, and I do feel better knowing they have a more dependable vehicle. Their van is nicer, and once the wet weather problem is solved they'll be set up nicely. Well, that means I'll get to see them briefly this evening when they get back and pick up the van.
I do have a hopeful vent regarding the holiday...
It's Sunday, and I'm tempted to say, "For the followers of myth, today is known as Easter." There, I have said it, and of course the hate mongers who are trivializing and mocking the spirituality I grew up with will condemn me to misery in Hell, while those whose hearts are not so dark and hateful may condescend to pray for me.
Though I now find Easter to be an ironic time, it remains spiritually significant. I started with my darkest feelings regarding what I think of as neo-christians. I see mainstream churches embracing hate and fear, resulting in symptoms like homo-phobia, supporting patently unjust and deliberately unseen wars, restoring racial, ethnic and religious discrimination. Seemingly anything which pigeonholes or degrades other human beings feeds their religious ecstasy. On the other hand, anything which questions their prejudice, avarice, or cowardice is summarily dismissed. I don't understand how they can read the scriptures and still be more dedicated to 'correcting' others than challenging themselves. I guess that nasty little speck in my eye is more important than the plank in theirs.
Yet I remain hopeful. Try looking at our modern fundamentalists as players in a passion play. They are the pharisees who would torture and slowly, brutally, execute those who would challenge their comfy power structure. I've heard my nephews and nieces, one of my best friend's children, and other children say when talking about neighbor kids or playmates, "They are really nice, even though they're christians." It is ironic indeed the very same neo-christians who are as quick to judge others as anyone in the history of the world, who live by stereotyping everyone around them dismiss any stereotypes they have earned as quickly as they judge others.
They are torturing God. Crucifying him/her. Using the godhead to promote a narrow agenda of hate, control, and fear. I choose to believe that despite their vigilance, love will sneak it's way back into religion. I'm sure it won't attract as many followers, because destruction comes easier to most than building. Still, like a phoenix I think something beautiful will arise from the ashes of the neo-christians orgy of destruction. Will it still be christianity? Who can say? I don't think the symbolism and parables used to teach are especially important to God, rather I believe the struggle to be the best we can is how we honor God. Whether we identify the essence of God as a terrible and compassionate fellow with a beard and a son named Jesus, Gaea, the space needle, some dude named Harold, or simply an archaic description of what we don't understand, it does not matter. The essence, striving to make ourselves better and honoring what he/she stands for rather than condemning those around us, is what matters.
I'd like to see the resurrection of godliness in religion in my lifetime. Whether I do or not, Easter gives me hope evil will not always be able to assume a righteous mask unchallenged, posing as good. That is my hope, and I suppose, faith. Another irony, a belief that 'faith' will not always be whored by those afraid to really challenge themselves by listening to what God has to tell them. Here's to divine irony, and a brighter future.
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