Do The Ninjitsu

I was looking at a bunch of pictures of my kids from this past Halloween. They both wanted to dress like ninjas, to which my wife and I were like SCORE! because 1) cheap-ass costumes and 2) NINJAS. Everybody wins.

So I was looking at these pictures and it occurred to me that parenting is kind of like being a ninja in that it involves a lot of hard work with very little recognition. Nobody thanks the ninja for pulling off a flawless assassination, no matter that he or she left not a trace of their presence. There are no attaboys for the shadow warrior who successfully infiltrates the enemy compound and defeats scores of attackers. There are no ninja company meetings where the ninja CEO recognizes Bob and Steve for Excellence in Disappearing Into Clouds of Smoke. 

I was gonna write about all that, but then I got distracted thinking about how there’s really not much of a place for ninjas in a democracy, not in an official capacity anyway, but I guess ninjas typically don’t function in an official capacity anyway, but I guess what I mean is that assassination -- covert and otherwise -- isn’t really a key driver of change in our country, which I would call a very good thing, none of which is to say that there are not shadowy figures doing shadowy things in the halls of power and perception, they just don’t typically carry throwing stars on their person...as far as I know. Then I remembered that I hate writing about politics because it’s not as much fun as writing about ninjas. All of which is to say, holy shit, ninjas.

Shadow Warriors

Messiah Bling and other Religious Hilarity

The seminary that I've been attending for the last couple of years must be peddling student contact info. How else to explain how I got on the mailing list of the people trying to sell this shit:

That's right y'all, 24 karat gold diamond* encrusted sandals, just like the Son of God wore back in the day. Motherfucker walked on water in those things. Maybe you can too!

Oh, and I've been meaning to post this one for a while. Remember back in high school when military recruiters seemed to be coming out of the woodwork trying to get you to sign up to do your duty to God and country? Did you think that all ended after you graduated? Well guess again. Check out what I found in my campus mailbox my first semester:

I had no idea that the military's marketing and recruitment budget included an allotment for the chaplaincy corps, but apparently it does. My brain is coming up with all manner of snarky commentary to type here, but I feel like the picture kind of speaks for itself. What do you see? Some pretty flowers.

So speaking of seminary......I don't know that I'm going to continue my studies with them. I'm realizing more and more that I simply don't belong there. I've written here before about why I chose to attend there, one of which was to grapple with some of my Big Questions about God, religion, the whole bag. And it seems that in that grappling, a few things have happened.

1. It's all started feeling more and more like a house of cards. It seems that the more we delved into topics like the origins of scripture and the beginnings of Christianity, the less divine the whole picture appeared. At every step of the way it seems, there's someone, some group, with an agenda, one which they promote by means of imbuing events and people with divine status, fitting events of their present into prophecies of their past. And it's not like we were studying anti-religious texts, and it's not as if I stepped onto campus thinking that the Bible was the literal word of God, but I didn't quite expect to find out just how much politics went into the creation of the text we now have, even before King James got his royal hands on it.
   
2. I grew tired of it. The whole thing. I'm just sick to death of all the questions, the seeking, the wondering, the quest for meaning, trying to be close to a God that, if he does exist, doesn't really seem to want to be found. I can't live like that. I just want to live my life, be myself, be happy, love my family and friends, write, create, and do the right things because they're the right things to do. I'm tired of putting so much effort into trying to feel IT. Time was I did feel it. I felt something anyway. I don't know if it was a delusion or if it was real but fleeting, but whatever it was, I'm sick of trying to get it back at the expense of the now, the moment. The meaning is right here. I just want to be.
   
3. And ya know, let's face it. I suck at being religious. I can't go to church. I've got a foul mouth, a sick sense of humor, and a taste for beer. Personally, I believe that if there is an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-loving God out there, then he, she, or it loves all this stuff about me. But I'm tired of thinking about it.
   

So that's me, that's where I'm at. I think I fall under the heading of an agnostic, but honestly, I don't even fucking care. I'm not mad at God or the church or whatever, I'm just kinda done. For now anyway.

Anyway, uh, Happy Easter?

* Yes, I know it says they're crystals and not diamonds, but "diamond encrusted" just sounds better.

There is a way

The baby woke up right before Obama's victory speech. I brought him downstairs and gave him a bottle while I listened to our future President speak. I looked down at him, and it occurred to me, he has no idea, no idea that he's alive during a moment of history. No idea how amazing tonight is. Just another night of little baby dreams.

Sleep tight little boys. The future's looking just a bit brighter.

And with that, a little Mos Def.

And speaking of Rage...

Via the good people at Boing Boing, there's this little bit of drama from the protests at the Republican National Convention. In short:

"When the police shut down the PA on Rage Against the Machine at an anti-RNC concert, the band took to the turf with a megaphone and performed a capella, delivering inspiring commentary between songs."

Now Rage is, has been, and always will be one of my favorite bands of all time. But the fact of the matter is that they're a semi-broken-up band that hasn't put out an album in going on a decade. I'm not saying that they've nothing relevant to offer, but when a band is doing reunion shows, I think it's safe to say that the heyday is past.* And yet here you have this little side-story of censorship wherein whichever powers-that-be decided that this music was somehow too dangerous, too incendiary to allow it to take voice. Censorship is nothing new in our country, but it never ceases to amaze me. What is so fucking frightening about words, ideas, thoughts given expression, that they have to be shut down before they get out into the open? Any institution, be it a political party or a religion or an ideology or whatever, if it is so weak as to be damaged by an idea, then it needs to get damaged.

And yes, I know, there may well have been some violence at an RATM protest concert, but fuck it. We've had eight years of this Republican bullshit. I'm embarrassed we haven't had more riots.

*Which is not to say that I wouldn't totally go see them if they came to Austin. Hey guys, come to Austin! We'll fuck shit up! It'll be great!

If BushCo decides to invade the Island of Sodor

This post is not about sex

So our beloved Governor Rick Perry, he of the slick coif who carries on the tradition of sporting cowboy boots with designer suits, has gone and written himself a book about the overwhelming awesomeness that is the Boy Scouts of America. Kickass! As an Eagle Scout and former member and employee of the BSA myself, I could also write such a book, though I imagine my account would differ from the gov's a wee bit.

Governor Good-Ole-Boy recently granted an interview to the New York Times wherein they appear to have spent most of their time talking about the book and about scouting. Of course, the gov had to field a few questions about the BSA's no-gays-allowed policies, and I have to say, I found his answers rather interesting. It's not that his reasoning is so compelling because it's not; it's just that it sounds as if the scouts have abandoned the tactic of defending their policy by saying that it's intended to protect kids from child molesters, undoubtedly because that line of reasoning has been shot full of holes. So what's the new argument Rick?

"Scouting ought to be about building character, not about sex. Period. Precious few parents enroll their boys in the Scouts to get a crash course in sexual orientation."

Ah, okay. So now it's not about protecting kids from predators, it's about protecting them from...well, from what exactly? From having to be anywhere near gay people? From information? Or rather, is it to protect parents from having to have their boys around homosexuals, where they might find out that they're, ya know, human beings?

Except the thing is, if scouting's not about sex, then why are the scouts making it about sex? Doesn't a ban that is based entirely on sexual orientation make the entire issue precisely, exactly about SEX?

Am I the only one who doesn't get it?

Take the baldheads voting, take them voting

So here's something fun and easy you can do with your kids that will make you feel like a Model Citizen: take them with you to vote! Why exactly is it so much fun? Simple: old people. I know, I know, old people have a reputation for usually spoiling everybody's fun, but that's just an unfair characterization. Old people like to have fun as much as anybody else. They like to party. Old people do the humpty-hump...they do the humpty-hump. AND they love to work the polls AND they love cute kiddos. So when you show up at the polls with your wee-uns, you got an instant party on your hands. Hell, they loved Henry so much, they even let him vote.

So take the kiddos voting. It requires practically no effort, and it'll make you feel like you're doing your part to save the world. Just like recycling.

You see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions

I was sitting here the other night studying over the possible essay questions for my upcoming ethics test, and I found myself playing with my pen in that way that Anthony Michael Hall does at the beginning of "The Breakfast Club" when he's trying to figure out what to say in his paper about who he is. Realizing this, I just went with it and started mumbling, "Who am I? Who am I?" with the pen clipped to my lower lip. I then turned my head slowly towards the invisible Judd Nelson glaring at me from the neighboring table, and sheepishly removed the pen from my mouth. There was no audience, so you'll have to trust me that it was a brilliant rendition of a great moment in film. It called to mind other moments of cinematic authorly procrastination, including Billy Crystal in "Throw Momma From The Train" (The night was...sultry) and Nicholas Cage in "Adaptation" (I need a muffin).

The real reason for my procrastination, however, was not laziness. See, I'm currently enrolled in a master's program at a seminary. An Episcopal seminary to be exact. The Episcopal Theological Seminary of the Southwest to be even, um, exacter. You might find that surprising given that one of my most recent posts talked about how much beer I used to swill. Honestly, sometimes I find it kind of strange that I'm on this path. Strange in a positive way though. But that's not the evening's topic. Perhaps another time, and another post. Or ten.

See, I was going over the possible essay questions that may be on the test. It's one of those "two of these six questions will be asked, so you'd better be ready for all of them" situations. I'd already coasted through the first five, gone back and compared them with my notes, and was happy with what I'd come up with. Mostly just comparing and contrasting different ethical theories, considering what each has to say about what. Interesting stuff, to me anyway, but the questions were much too abstract to really be all that inspiring. The last question though, hit very close to a subject that I feel particularly passionate about. I had to really think about how I wanted to articulate my answer, hence the putting-off of the writing, the pen play, the goofiness. The question was basically along the lines of "what political questions should Christians raise when making ethical decisions about our shared life?"

Wow. Where to begin?

As I read it, it basically goes back to the fundamental question of what to do when you have several billion people all stuck on the same planet. You know, like in real life? All these people want a lot of the same things, but the differences between them feel as vast as the universe. And then you throw something as powerful as faith into the mix and you’re lucky you don’t have people killing each other. Oh wait.

Faith makes things tricky because of just how core it can be to one’s persona. It permeates every facet of a person’s being, affecting their viewpoint on everything. This in and of itself isn’t a bad thing. It’s what moved people like MLK, Gandhi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. But on the other side of world-changing people like that, you have those whose faith makes them arrogant, unwilling to listen. I think too often people of faith forget that they’re on a journey and instead think they’ve already found their ultimate truth. Listen, anybody who tells you they’ve got it all figured out is a liar. These are the ones who, when put into a decision-making role, will attempt to mold their little corner of the world into some kind of ideal vision, a feat which is unrealistic, dangerous, and doomed to fail. God help us when we find ourselves at the mercy of these kinds of people.

So I won’t bore you with the entirety of what I wrote in response to the question, but it basically all boils down to humility. It’s about trying to stretch ourselves to accommodate another person’s point of view. It’s about remembering that even those who agree with us are human beings as much as we are, or in Christian language, children of God. And they’re entitled to as much dignity and respect as those with whom we take communion.

Fortunately, I think my professor agrees with me on this one. I’d have a pretty hard time in this class otherwise.