Hey, Serial for You

Longtime readers of my series of tubeslog probably know the lyrics to more than one Monty Python song but may also know that my regard for email forwards and classics of Christian coffee mug or poster devotion is low.

I don't know where the following falls in relation to those. It is the type of thing that was passed around from Christian to Christian, from one community to another through networks of connection, but its content seems more edifying than a picture of MY PRESIDENT praying or a story about JPL scientists needing to account for a lost day to get a satellite into the proper orbit that you will pass on to ten other people if you love Jesus. It's relation to facts is just as tenuous but it may still ring true. You will decide I suppose.

Anyway, it's an old text that a student shared with me last year. It's from an Inter Varsity booklet titled The Salvation of Zachary Baumkleterrer. I've taken editorial license here, updating some of the language so it's less late-sixties, and have broken it up to post it in chapters of sorts. I'll post it in parts over the next few days. Of course, an eager reader could find it elsewhere on their own- If you do, don't ruin it for the rest of us.

Here it is:
The Salvation of Zachary Baumkleterrer
by George Mavrodes

Maybe Zack should have said more about what he had decided to do, right at the beginning, and especially to the people at the office. Sometimes he thought so himself. But he was really a shy sort of person, not much at ease in talking about himself. So he said nothing about it (except when he prayed, of course) until people started asking him. I guess the first thing they noticed was that he stopped bringing his lunch, buying soup and coffee in the cafeteria, and eating with the bunch at the corner table. But no one thought much of it, because some of the people often went out for lunch. And when they realized he wasn't eating lunch at all, some of them thought that he was just trying to lose a little weight. But it was odd, because he didn't seem to be what you could call fat at all. And it soon became clear that he was getting really thin, and his face looked a little pinched.
About the same time Louise Trimble, who handled the south-western accounts, noticed something else. On a woman she would have noticed right away, in three or four days at most, probably in two. But it's harder with a man, and especially with Zack, who always wore rather conservative, unobtrusive clothes. But one Monday, Louise had a funny feeling about how Zack looked. She looked at him carefully, and she looked at him carefully again on Tuesday and Wednesday. By Friday she was quite sure of it. Zack had worn exactly the same trousers, jacket, shirt, and tie all week. It wasn't as if they weren't clean - they were, but still it was odd, wasn't it? For she distinctly remembered that Zack used to wear a reasonable variety of clothes. She mentioned it to a couple of the other women, and they said Yes, now that she mentioned it, they thought he had worn the same clothes all week, and all of last week too, they guessed, and maybe the week before that. But he hadn't always done it. And later on one of the women mentioned it to her boyfriend in the accounting section. And so a thin trickle of talk started going through the corridors on the sixth floor, talk about Zachary Baumkletterer.
It's a little awkward to ask someone why he wears the same clothes all the time. Kids might do it, but grownups are maybe more polite. I guess it's easier to remark casually that you look a little thin, maybe you've been losing a little weight, have you? Anyway, that's how Tom Houston finally broached the subject to Zack, in the sixth floor men's room. And Zack said yes, he had lost some weight. As he said it he tightened up a little, because he really didn't like to talk about himself. But there wasn't anything in the whole affair that he was ashamed of either, and he thought he'd probably have to explain it sooner or later anyway. So, since he got along pretty well with Tom, he added, "It's because of the famine." That obviously made it as clear to Tom as if Zack had said it was because of the theory of relativity. So he went on to explain that there was a shortage of food in many parts of the world, a real famine, and that people were starving, actually starving to death in Bangladesh, in the Sahel of Africa, and in some other places. And Tom broke in to say that he knew all that, he could read the newspapers and the magazines, but there wasn't a famine here, for Pete's sake, was there? (He really did say for Pete's sake, he knew that Zack was a real religious nut, so he sort of toned down his language when he was around Zack.) And Zack said No, there wasn't a famine here (though he had heard that some old people and some black people were pretty hard up.) But there was a famine in other places, and the people in those places were people just as much as anyone around here, and so he was sending money for the relief of the famine abroad instead of spending that money on himself. And they went on and talked about it a little more until the Assistant Manager of Commercial Accounts came into the men's room, and then they broke it off and went back to their desks. But by that time Tom had a pretty good idea that the whole thing was connected with Zack's being a Christian, and he never had understood that too well. He added his new information to the trickle of talk, though, and the trickle swelled up quite a bit and seeped down to the fifth floor and the fourth floor too.

I Feel The Sky Tumbling Down, Tumbling Down

So about our earthquake yesterday... It was the first in a long time I wasn't able to just sit through and ride out. Thanks a lot, baby!

Anyway, I'm not the head of a religious empire so I am not quite sure how to go about attributing the blame for said earthquake. Things don't just happen do they? There has to be someone to blame, but I don't know exactly how to find that someone. However, there is not a problem so complex that the wiki-esque democratizing power of the internets in conjunction with oversimplified Biblical interpretation can't solve it.

So to that end, I will suggest possible reasons that God may have been judging Chino Hills with an earthquake and together, we will pick the most likely reason... I should make this a contest.

Let's see... hmmm... Oh there was the reintroduction of the plan to house mentally ill inmates at the Chino facility. That made a lot of locals angry...
Maybe...
Oh yeah, there are a lot of empty homes in the area as a result of the worsening housing market, poor economy, and mortgage scams making neighborhoods ugly and God doesn't like ugly... Well if you take a view of the world popularized by the likes of CS Lewis wherein white and beautiful equals good...
Oh! Maybe the rash of coyote attacks in Chino Hills has something to do with it. No, that sounds more like judgment than the reason for judgment...
Hey, the city council just cancelled a contract to build a fountain at the city hall. That could be something.
What else, what else?
Turning to the Bible, Isaiah suggests that in at least one instance earthquakes may be the consequence of vapid but showy worship overseen by empty-headed leaders. Sure, but Chino Hills is home to the best church in the world, so it's probably not that...

I dunno.

Anyway, feel free to leave your vote for the most likely reason for judgment, or if you have nothing to say about that-
Does anybody in the internets know how to buy other region/country's iTunes content? Failing that, can anybody in the internets explain why iTunes would allow me to search other region iTunes stores and then not allow me to buy content from that region?

Do You Say This On Your Own, Or Do Others Say This About Me?

I, as I have learned any good parent should do, presumptuously think everyone wants to see pictures of my baby. As such I sent out a birth announcement (of sorts) to my department. Of course I attached a photo. Following that, more than one person has said she is the cutest baby they have ever seen. So cute, in fact, that she couldn't possibly be my child.

Two things about that:
1.) Most everyone says that about most people's babies without realizing that only one baby in the world could actually be the cutest baby they have ever seen. That's just the way the superlative form of an adjective works. So I understand that other people's comments about the cuteness of a baby, even my baby, must be understood in light of our general misuse of language.
2.) I think she is the cutest baby I have ever seen but also realize that personal commitment and passion color truth.

That said, a coworker of mine, apropos only to my sending out the email birth announcement, told me he thought of my baby while on his way to work one morning because of mention of a Beautiful Baby Contest on the radio. Well actually, it's on the internets but conducted by a radio station so he heard about it on the radio.

How's that for an unsolicited compliment, or better, window into THE TRUTH?

So I entered The Lovely Elizabeth into a baby contest. This is the picture I used.

It really is the greatest use of photographic technology ever.

Anybody that wanted to vote for her could. You would see she is contestant 46 in the D-F category. You would also see that Dylan is the new David.*

What could be more true than the results of a series of tubes contest judged by Tori Spelling and people who listen to Soft Adult Contemporary pop or respond to email forwards from family members telling them to vote for their baby?**

* That's just for the Ds. Overall, Jacob is actually the new Michael.
** That's just begging for a Venn diagram.

Honey's Is People, It's People

Yesterday, we were convinced to go to Honey's for lunch. If you don't know, Honey's is a "family-style" restaurant in Glendora. By family style I mean of course, it's serves the nondescript, golden brown, institutional pile of carbohydrates that is at least acceptable to, if not enjoyed by, everyone in your family. Generally, you wouldn't go to a place like Honey's for the food, unless, of course, your palette is coated with an impenetrable film of trans-fat residue so everything tastes like a deep fryer to you anyway; you go there because no one will say it's "too spicy", "too exotic", "too red", "too weird", "too 'anything'". It is our bland future food, but rather than served as a pill or Soylent wafer, it is measured out by the bucketful and served in portions as big as your head.

Anyway, it was a strange experience. If you were to knock me out and then revive me in Honey's in Glendora, telling me I'd been unconscious for days, you could easily convince me that we had travelled somewhere people readily know what Cracker Barrel or Bob Evans are. It was definitely of a different Glendora than the one that singlehandedly could keep Skin Industries in business. More Buick than Hummer. More JC Penney than Bebe. More Mrs. Stewart's Bluing than Botox. More plastic prosthetic than silicone implant.

You could say Honey's represents a better, more innocent and wholesome way of life. I wouldn't, but you could. I'm simply intrigued that the difference it is thrives where it does.

Blockin' Out The Scenery Blowin' My Mind

-Hey, do you want to come with us down to-
-Oh I can't now. I have to finish this sign.
STOP PITZ NOW
Did you know the game of pitz was played with an 8 pound ball that would cause extensive bruising that was then used in bloodletting and sacrificial rites?
-Pitz?
-Yeah, pitz. It was the game the Mayans played. The ball was so big and heavy that players would get these gigantic bruises, then they would let the blood out of those bruises for their gods.
-Yeesh
-I know. And then sometimes the captains of the losing team, or sometimes the whole team would have their heads chopped off as a sacrifice to their gods.
-That's a pretty good incentive to win. So do y-
-Oh but they couldn't win. Those losses were generally staged, they were part of a big ritual. The field of play was actually a gateway to the world of their gods, so the whole thing wasn't just a game but a big idolatrous festival. Even when it was played recreationally, which was generally more of a one on one type game, it had those mythical implications.
-That's cool. Anyway, I wa-
-Cool? It's awful- human sacrifices to pagan god's? That's the worst thing there could be.
-No- Right- I just mean, it's cool that you know so much about it.
-Yeah. So you agree?
-With what?
-That it's awful?
-Sure, it sounds pretty awful.
-So what are we going to do about it?
-What do you mean?
-I mean that is a terrible, awful, awful thing, so we need to make sure we stop it.
-Stop what?
-Pitz!
-Pitz?
-Yes
-Do we even know anybody that plays pitz?
-The Classical Mayans
-Classical Mayans?
-Yeah, you know, the Pre-Colombian Meso-American people, them.
-Well... who's playing it now?
-No one, well maybe some indigenous people in the Yucatan or Guatemala, but it's not really the same game and no one gets their head chopped off. Anyway that doesn't matter 'cos I'm talking about actual pitz. We're have to stop that.
-Pitz? You just said no one plays pitz.
-No, I said the Classical Mayans.
- ...
-Anyway, pitz is wrong.

Fear Not; You Are of More Value Than Many Sparrows

My dogs and I were being unduly attacked by mocking birds as they chased a ball around the yard yesterday, and while it's fun to see mocking birds attack my dogs (my actual dogs, not my homies, that should've been clear though since I didn't write "my dawgs"), it's not fun to see them unduly attack my dogs. It seems too stressful for the birds and my dogs. And when I become a target, then forget it, the little bit of front yard Wild Kingdom is over.

Eventually, I learned why the mocking birds were so upset.

Their chick was on the ground instead of up in a tree. Long story short, I did enough to satisfy my standard of reasonableness (which, face it, for any of us, it is never enough to satisfy the actual needs of the world) but my conscience is another story. That is, I took care of the mockingbird chick as well as I could considering the circumstances.

So it occurs to me to ask, could a conscience worth the word be satiable?

But Screw Mocking Birds, They're Jerks, Right?
Kind of Blue- Miles Davis

That's A Lot To Load on a Baby

I once showed up at a Yearly Meeting meeting in a sport coat. I don't remember why. I wouldn't generally do that so there must have been some reason I was already wearing a sport coat or was going to need one later. I probably would not even remember that I wore a sport coat on that occasion except that someone older and more ministerially invested than I am said I was alienating people by wearing a sport coat. His take was that anyone interested in getting people into churches should notice and follow the cue that nobody in our culture wore sport coats or suits anymore.

He might be right. I hear someone in our Yearly Meeting/Annual Conference is doing some kind of Glamis or Dirt Bike church. On Sundays, he's going to meet with people who have opted to go dirt-biking for the weekend and then read the Bible and sing with them for a couple of hours.

I guess.

I suppose, it might look weird to show up to a place like that in a sport coat. The kind of weird monks probably seemed wearing habits, or the weird Quakers seemed wearing gray and dressed without ruffles. M'eh.

I suppose you can't argue with results. Here I am showing up to places in a sport coat, and there my accuser is, well-suited for ministry in our Yearly Meeting.

Nobody wears sport coats indeed.

Every now and then... well actually more often than "now and then" suggests...

So...

Quite frequently I hear about the need for THE CHURCH to be authentic and relevant. I mostly see that is meant in a Church Growth© way and not necessarily in a so the Kingdom of God is seen kind of way. How it manifests itself is in goatees, Hawaiian shirts as dressy, saying dude, kids who look and act like most everybody else but have NOTW branded somewhere on their person... I think it also makes us think we need to incorporate more images, the word "dude", faux-hawks, and flat screens... lots and lots of flat screens into our weekly concerts/affirmations. What's more relevant than that stuff?

The Lovely Elizabeth, like all babies, is as smart as they come. I don't mean she knows how to use a toilet or can make her hands do what she wants them to do. I don't even think she knows she can know it's possible to want at this point. So when I say smart I mean her world is infinite human possibility. She has the capacity to absorb and integrate herself into any mode of human existence that we know or can imagine. That's smart.

It's my job to narrow that. I will teach her that X is in a set with Y but not a part of the set that includes 1 and 2, and that's different from the set of µ and ∆. I'll help set for her the frames of reference and categorization through which she will understand the world. My narrow world. It's my duty to shrink the horizon of her concerns and interests so that she may be well adjusted to one manner of being. It's my job to pass on my pettiness and sinful tendencies. My idols will become her idols so that for her- much of sin will merely be the way "it" is. If I do my job, I will have passed on the ability to overlook the worst of sins- that which justifies our way of being as the way of being.

When we talk about relevance or authenticity I don't think we want to mean we need to get at that but I suspect that's the very think we need to address if a church is really going to be relevant and authentic. I don't think we want to get at that because the very best idols are those to which we are the most loyal, those that offer the most security and comfort, those that let us skirt around the despair that blankets human existence.*

I'm sure at some point she'll lie. She'll steal. At some point she'll feel the pangs of guilt at hurting someone. We've got a world that understands sin as such and have great ways to alleviate that guilt. But there will be no need to feel guilty for participating in the world as it is- no need to recognize any of that as sin.

Unless the Holy Spirit does its** job. I'm looking forward to that. If it wasn't for that anticipation and action I don't know how that despair could be overcome... Well other than by embracing blissful ignorance or remaining in happy denial I wouldn't know how to do it. But it is there, and as I look at my daughter, the person that I call my daughter but know must be her own person, I am filled with a word I don't know in English. I have that waiting, expectant hope that is esperar.

Thank God.

* I'm really much more fun than this suggests.
** The Holy Spirit is an "it". Deal with it.

We'll Get Together Then Son, You Know We'll Have a Good Time Then

My poor, poor neglected series-of-tubeslog. Faithfully waiting as I attend to other things. Well I'm back. To a degree. So first things first.

Last you heard a baby came along and a winner of the Name My Baby Contest was to be announced.

Well here's what you've been waiting for...

Commenter Jeremy has won with the recommendation "Irena". Not only does he win the "Name I Like" portion of the contest, but he wins the "Name We Choose" portion (at least a variation of it). Who would've guessed The Qweenbean and I were pathetic enough to name our baby with an internets contest? At least Jeremy.

In any case, as winner of the big prize he will receive the book More Handles of Power by Lewis Dunnington. It's a Mid-Century Methodist devotional text along the lines of our present day Chicken Soup for the Souls or the various Prayer of Jabezes floating around. I don't mean it is or was that crappy, I mean it is along those lines in its purpose and popularity.

It's fascinating.

It's of a different evangelical stream than that which fed the creation of radio Bible hours, kooky millennialism, or white supremacy associations but of a similar source, so because of that, to me, an interesting artifact. I think the stream/running-water metaphor is apt because as thought and practices flowed to the South and Mid-West, as examples, they took on unique characteristics and fed different types of fruit. For example, it's not something we care to admit, but the Strange Fruit that hung from Indiana trees was borne by Evangelical Holiness. This book is of a stream that eventually flowed North and East, though pooling in other places as well, and as such is of the traditional forebears of evangelical thought and practices expressed in the likes of Sojourners and The Progressive Christian.

It's also fascinating to me because it is full of the kinds of things that actual Christians used as guidance for their day to day lives- just like Chicken Soup for The Soul and the Prayer of Jabez. This book is the kind of thing that fed the devotional lives of people who generally could not care less about theology and biblical studies- or more appropriately for whom this passes as theology and biblical study. Though preachers and teachers may consult scholarly sources and critically examine our assumptions about the nature of truth and work to apply that to our lives as people of faith, a mnemonic like "Adam and Eve, Not Adam and Steve" or all manner of widely circulated pablum hold more sway over our lives than even the collected works of... I dunno, which pop-theologian is hot among evangelicals these days? They hold more sway than that guy. Of course I may be assuming too much if I imagine the average preacher engages in a level of critical thought and investigation more astute than the average congregant. In any case, my point is these kinds of texts are fascinating to me because they are a phenomenon that, in the good and bad, represent how people think, what is important to them, and what passes as a life of faith. (I mean that in a good way... mostly.)

It's on its way to you, Winner Jeremy. I hope you think it is as great as I do.

To the rest of you, I hope the taste of defeat burns in your mouth like ashes and vinegar so that only future victory can cleanse your palate.

A Millstone About My Neck

Our baby came with a bunch of free stuff. Free in that, I didn't have to pull out a wallet and pay for anything with paper or plastic at a specific point though there were costs associated.

One of the costly freebies was Parenting Magazine. Costly because it forces me to confront some of the assumptions I had about parenting. It's called Parenting but it's clearly not for me. It's not for me because I am a dad, and if this magazine is to be believed, mom's are parents and dad's are only some sort of secondary relation to a child. Dad's are conspicuously absent.

Mostly.

There is, along with the Letters to Parenting, a section called Hot Dads wherein photos of nominees are posted along with the details that explain why they're hot.

I intuitively find this repugnant and want to set the magazine on fire, but I should be careful. My parenting can be bad for The Lovely Elizabeth. According to other literature, if I encourage her to participate in athletics or to outperform The Boys in various efforts, it will cause gender identity confusion for her and force The Qweenbean to reject her, thereby encouraging The Lovely Elizabeth to seek the approval and affection of other women in the form of homosexual relationships. I thought encouraging her in athletics and outperforming boys were things I would want to do. Idiot dad that I am.

In that sense, Parenting may be just what the doctor ordered. I ought to remove myself from her life in such a way that she will be more concerned with replacing an absent father and seeking affection and approval with men that are only too happy to prey on the self-hating persona I helped create.

Cool, thanks, Parenting Magazine.

Sin Boldly

Working on my syllabus this morning I ended up with a preachy bee in my bonnet.

This was the buzz...
Can we as Christians say we proclaim the God of love if we cooperate with and legitimize institutional systems that by their very nature dominate and destroy?

Gee, that's a stupid question. Of course we can. We do it all the time, and it's not even a matter of of being duplicitous or hypocritical.*

Although it's an important question, it assumes one is willing to see their world as a part of that destructive machine. And who wants to do that?

A step must be made before that question can make sense. It's a step that requires the Word of God confronting us intensely in our humanness. The institutional systems of the above question are the perfect idols. They are a kind of perfect sin in that they can remain unexamined because they are often the very foundations of our world. In that they must be confronted, but in that, it's so easy to see them as separate from what we conventionally call sin. If we address them at all, they are often merely the unfortunate exigencies of our fallen world. It's the way it is may mean that these things are morally neutral or, if morally problematic, they are morally problematic in our favor.

In my metaphysical kookiness I say the Spirit confronts us concerning sin, but it's not the confrontation of asking what is correct; is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?

If it is found with that question, it is in the silence of our response.

* Just blinded by the spirit of anti-christ.

Talk Baby Girl Baby Thinking Baby Walk

Here she is. I'm not going to put her real name into the series of tubes but I will say we have a winner in my Baby Naming Contest. You will be announced and notified shortly.

What Are You Kidding? We Got a Family Here!

Longtime readers of my intertubes journal may be willfully bringing harm to their souls but may also note that I have been uncharacteristically silent of late. It's because finally, the Qweenbean can be saved.

After planning and throwing a 4th of July Picnic/Chili Cook-off, The Qweenbean gave birth to our baby. That ought to go on a resúmé. It's pretty impressive. I mean, after just helping to pull that stuff together, all I wanted to do was sit around with friends and watch a movie. In fact, that's what we were doing before our baby was born. So she's here, and while I'd hate to seem obsessed or overly doting, I should say she's pretty much the greatest thing ever. I know everyone says that about their kids, but I would bet that when I say it, it's really true. She's the best there is. Of course knowing me, I'm just writing that as a demonstration of the nature of things that we say are true. Or maybe I really do mean it. Or maybe it's both.

In any case, we are only just adjusting to this new world into which it seems three (at least) rather than one was born, hence a dearth of blog posts or other contact with the outside world. Even this one will have to be quick, so on to what's important: The Qweenbean being saved.

Of course, you know what I'm talking about- well if you're a Christian that doesn't just pretend to believe the Bible you know what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about Paul's inerrant declaration that women will be saved through childbirth.

I know, I know, it's possible to read that 1 Timothy passage other ways, as saying women will be saved through childbirth, as in women need not be overcome by the process, but in fact will endure safely through it, as an example. But that would be willfully ignoring the broader testimony of scripture that sees the pain of childbirth as a curse and the presence of children as evidence of God's favor. I guess it's also possible to say we really don't know what that bit o' Bible is talking about or that it doesn't relate to our present experience, even as people of faith, but any of that may lead us down roads that we've not already travelled. And if it's a road we've not already travelled how would we know it's a road we can travel?

Blow It Up

I'm sure this has nothing do with anything, but if the "We the People" of the Constitution was written specifically to exclude people like me, the browns, and people like The Qweenbean, ladies, by what right does it include us now?

Why and how would we say that that sense of "we" has changed?

I think it's appropriate that, where it's allowed, we celebrate the birth of a nation by blowing up or setting little bits of it on fire.

That's all.

We're Not Actually Saying This is
the Earth Calling You

I was trying to teach Me Love You about jokes yesterday. He's reached an age when he finds it necessary to experiment with creating his own jokes, only he's not telling jokes. Not even riddles. They're nonsense and though nonsense may sometimes be used to make a joke a joke- he's not reached that stage of the craft. I think jokes are an incredibly important part of language, thought, interaction, being human. It's fine to be eight years old and not quite understand how to craft a joke. Mostly fine. But he has to be drawn through this.

Here's why I'm a jerk. I won't laugh at a kid's joke if it isn't funny. I ask why it's a joke. I'll say I don't get it and ask it to be explained. Of course the threshold for what counts as a kid's joke is very low, but I say there is a threshold.

-Why was the fork afraid of the spoon?
-Why?
-Because it was twisted around it.
-I don't get it. Why is that funny?
-Look at the picture there, see the spoon is wrapped around the fork.

It's not funny. That's the same bit as those Meet the Spartans writers use. It's pointing at something you both see. Maybe it will make millions of dollars but it's not funny. It should be corrected.

-Knock knock.
-Who's there?
-Hoo
-"Hoo" who?
-Sorry I don't talk to owls.

That is funny.

But that explaining...

If you don't "get" a joke it can be explained but that doesn't do what is necessary for you to get the joke. You may be able to describe the structure, so to speak, the culture of a joke, why it can be what it is, but that is not the same as getting the joke. A joke necessarily takes advantage of cues and references that are part of a culture so though we may be able to say why it could be funny, or even, once we know the cues say, "Hey that is funny," we're still not a part of the people that get the joke. Are we?

-So a real cultured guy bought a pair of pants but they were so tight he couldn't get them on, so he shaved his legs.
-Uh, that's not funny.
-Oh... well see only barbarians wear pants.
- ...
-I mean in antiquity, only barbarians wore pants, but then it started to become fashionable to emulate barbarians and wear pants.
-Okay?
-And it was kinda' like what we do with cowboys- it's an affected masculinity so for him to wear pants is to be all, "Here comes John Wayne 'I'm not gonna cry about my pa, I'm gonna buy an airport and put my name on it,'" but then he gets rid of his leg hair... which is girly so he's, I don't know, not all manly like a hairy pants-wearing barbarian.
-Oh... okay. Try it again
-So a real cultured guy bought a pair of pants but they were so tight he couldn't get them on, so he shaved his legs.
-Okay, okay, yeah, I could see myself laughing at that. Yeah, okay, that is funny. Maybe next time though, make it about a middle aged divorced guy who wants to reclaim the virility of his youth and attract girls so he gets a big black Harley and because he doesn't feel manly enough with just the bike, he gets himself some leather chaps and all that but then he's not attracting girls if you know what I mean. That's funny. Say it that way next time.
-But that's not my joke.
-Eh well, it's funnier this way.

Mind The Tags
Jupiter, The Bringer of Jollity- Holst
Tuesday's Dead- Cat Stevens
36-24-36- Violent Femmes
Beautiful- Smashing Pumpkins
Extra Savoir-Faire-They Might Be Giants
Levitate Me- The Pixies
Brand New Cadillac- The Clash

Atheists are Magic

Among e/Evangelicals a good deal of weight is given to people who go from atheism to some form of theism. Especially if part of their story involves being a super-atheist as in, "I thought people who believed in God were dumb and I did everything to discredit religion, but in my investigations I came to see I could no longer deny there is a God." So they come to a point where they believe in God, and because they're real smart, they show we ought to believe in God too. Okay. I get that. There is a use to their certainty. I guess if I'm interested in a concept of God that is sufficiently comprehensible their work at describing God that way should make me feel better. I don't know why it follows that the God known in Christianity would follow from that, (so that these types are superstars in Christian apologetics is a bit problematic to me... apologetics is a bit problematic to me, so... whatever, I guess) but I do understand the desire to be in good company, the desire to not look foolish, the need to have what we believe be affirmed by others, the need to know that what we believe is rooted in more than belief.

Almost as a rule, their atheism is of the type that asked, "How could a loving God do such and such that seems contrary to that identity?" or "How could an all powerful God not intervene in something I don't like." That doesn't seem like atheism to me. It seems more like misotheism or antitheism or like being one who contends with God. Atheism would seem to preclude those kinds of questions. I mean, I'm an atheist when it comes to Thor, Zeus, Quetzacuatl, or Anubis. Who else? I don't know. But again, whatever. Maybe asking those questions really does make one an atheist, in which case I find it strange that I ask those questions and don't consider myself an atheist. Something there's got to give.

What I find problematic with this, and it's there with Creation Science © or even Aquinas' proofs, bearing weight is that we, if I may say "we," think that this concept of god (now proved...which is silly) must be The God everyone knows rather than the product of its own culture or narrative that is distinct from who we are as a people of a particular faith. The fact that we do not make that distinction, that the proved concept of god is the same as a named god described in a Christian's reading of the Bible, is how our loyalties are revealed.

I'm sure we're not outright saying we pledge loyalty or believe in The God of Late Western Capitalism. We say we just believe in God and if the ways by which we understand the world, the culture in which knowledge is validated as knowledge- Late Western Capitalism- says this is the idea of God that is proved, well, it must be our God since there is only one God. Right? All truth is God's truth, as we say. There's no need to examine ourselves or confront the ways we know God because it's how we know God and if we challenged that we would be challenging the way we say we know God and who wants to do that?

But back to the e/Evangelical Magi. I have nothing against someone like Lee Strobel or Antony Flew (their names just happened across my desk) explaining why they cannot be atheists. And I think it's a good thing to share devotional experiences. But I find no value in expressing devotion to the uncertainty of atheism (perhaps positively stated as Apologetics). (Plus, there's probably no net gain- it's maybe even a loss- if we're doing body counts for the "atheist to theist" versus "theist to atheist" game.) And if there is some "we" concerned with being the church- a people confronted and called out by God- we ought to be careful to see that the concept of god built by our knowledge does not seem like the kind of thing that would want to lead us to being that people (as if it could want). Rather it would be completely invested (as if it could invest) in our buying into the system that builds and maintains that concept of The God.

Small Victories

I think sometimes we... I'm trying to be honest here... I think sometimes I spend too much time thinking about the big picture or problems that really don't matter to us.

You may have noticed I tend to harp on issues of violence and ecclesial integrity but were I really concerned about eliminating frustration or anger from my life I would be more concerned with things closer to home. So I confess perhaps I only feign outrage as a matter of show or self-indulgence and in that lose sight of what really matters to us.

This morning we have the opportunity to realize we are blessed with a small victory. After the brief period of increased accidents caused by dummies trying to learn to use their new handsfree phone attachments, we will enter a new age of driving. No more will we be stuck behind someone going 10-20 miles per hour less than they should. People will respond more quickly to changing traffic lights. No more last minute decisions, recoveries, or overcorrections. Today, in California, we have the opportunity to see, in real life, the kind of difference our collective action can make. Even if something is unpopular and requires a little bit of effort, this is the kind of thing that can be done.

I mean, all my griping about violence- who cares am I right? It's not like I have to go kill anyone. And ecclesial integrity? Like that even means anything?

This truly is a golden age.

Name My Baby

Long time readers of my worldwide weblog are spending the best years of their lives in front of a computer but may also remember that The Qweenbean and I are having a baby. Any day now, the creature inside will make her way out.

Our waiting to be born baby's first name is Elizabeth. That's been decided for a while, but we are unable to settle on a middle name. We thought we'd picked Cristina but recently realized neither of us are as committed to it as we initially thought. So now we're back to not having a middle name for her. There are plenty of names we each like, names that have good meanings associated with them, but we are missing names we both like. It's not necessary that she have a middle name, though we both want her to have one. But more importantly, we want it to be a name that we both really enjoy, if the baby doesnlike it, big deal. What's she going to do, cry about it?

So as it is with so many other areas of life, I will turn to the internets for resolution.

It's come to this: a baby naming contest.

You dear reader will have the opportunity to middle name my baby. Of course, like the very act of reading this blog, in naming my baby there is the possibility of a great reward for those who participate well.

There are two ways to play and three ways to win! I don't know how to write that with the inflection it deserves.

First, you can attach yourself to one of the names that is already in the running. If we pick that name, you win. The deal with that is, you can only tie yourself to one name, though any number of people can choose the same name.

The second way to play is by recommending a name. If I like it, you win. This doesn't mean we have to give the baby that name. This only requires that I like the name.

The third way to win is by suggesting a name that I not only like, but we pick as the baby's middle name.

I suppose you should know:
Name meanings are important to me. We both like the name Natalie but I refuse to give in to naming a July baby Natalie. Maybe that says, name meanings are important and I'm a jerk.
Tougher for you to discern, people and history attached to names also matter. We both like the name Sarah but I dated too many girls named Sarah.
But don't let any of that discourage you, I give fantastic prizes and you really have nothing to lose... well maybe dignity, if you suggest a really stupid name.

These are the names in the running:
Ann
Cristina
Frances
James
Joy
Julianne
Lorena
Mae
Margaret

So make your offering to Nike, pick a name, leave your selection or recommendation in a comment, and don't suck. Winners will be notified when the baby is named and recieve their prizes in the mail.