What Would Jesus Do?–Apply Only When Convenient

woman_9I try not to go all Jesus on you, at least on this blog. And truthfully, I’m not really. I’m just trying to illustrate a point. Today’s discussion revolves around the death penalty.

The reason it came to mind today for me, is that Maryland’s governor, Martin O’Malley, recently signed a repeal of the death penalty bill, ending that state’s long association with murder by government, and becoming the 18th state to move to the side of life.

What is perhaps most interesting, or draconian, as you see it, is that at the same time, Florida moves to make the killing of its citizens more easy for the state to accomplish. Florida wishes all those on death row executed within 180 days of “a warrant being signed”–presumably from a valid conviction and sentence. This awaits the governor’s signature at a time that Florida ranks first in overturned death penalty cases, a stunning 24 people having been exonerated, since 1970.

When you look at a map of the country, it is easy to see that the 18 states who have abolished the death penalty, almost all reside in the north and east,  my own state of New Mexico being a happy exception. More and more, the killing is confined to the deep South, Ohio being the only exception to that rule. You can check out all the statistics in your state here.

In 2012, 140 countries had abolished the death penalty, 39 more have de facto eliminated it by not using it for a number of years. Fifty-eight still impose it, the US of course among them. Of the fifty-eight, there is not one single what we would call “modern” country, save Japan that does so. We are in the company of Syria, North Korea, the Congo, Cuba, Pakistan and Afghanistan with our penchant for murdering our own citizens. Only Iran and Saudi Arabia beat us in the numbers killed each year (China refuses to divulge such information and the numbers for them is thought to be in the thousands)

It confounds rational beings in this country that we continue this barbarism. In many countries, vigils are held at US embassies when an execution is imminent. Many countries will not extradite prisoners to this country because of its death penalty. Our claims about human rights violations are laughed at across the globe when we so viciously execute our own in the face of growing numbers of those later found innocent.

Yet we continue to do so, and it begs the question why? Why is the deep South, home of the Bible Belt, people by so many who advocate the death of their fellow citizens? Why do so-called Evangelical Christians, or Born Agains stand so steadfast for this legalized murder? How do they square all this with their manual of life, the Bible?

We can’t answer that question, because it is in fact unanswerable. These same people will argue that it is both right and proper for state legislatures to impose all kinds of controls on women to make sure that any fertilized egg is produced as a live birth. In fact, taking their arguments and legislation to its logical extension, absolutely nothing is “too far” when it comes to a fetus. They would allow for women to be imprisoned to insure that she is eating properly. They would allow for an investigation into the circumstances of any “miscarriage” to determine whether there was either deliberate or negligent causation of the loss.

They tell us that life is sacred, given by God. They say this of course, while we know that their interest begins and ends there. They are not generally willing to support that child once born. Many of them later will label that same child a “taker”, a 48%’er, a lazy, or other such appellation suggesting that they are unworthy of their charitable largess. And indeed they wish to reserve that right of “charity” to those persons deemed “worthy” as defined by them.

They engage in this ying-yang dichotomy of what God demands. God demands we preserve life at conception. God is ignored when in the guise of Jesus, He demands compassion and care for the least of God’s children. In the biggest effrontery of all, they accomplish this by proclaiming that God made his manual understandable to everyone, and therefore their self-serving interpretation is sacrosanct. They even have the gall to point to scripture for this proposition–beware of false prophets–everyone who tells them differently are of course the false prophets. It’s all neat and tidy.

However, the facts tend to get in the way. I offer the story of the adulterous woman from the Gospel of John, from Chapter 8.

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, 4 they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. 5 Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6 They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. 7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. 9 When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. 10 Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” 11 She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

Note how the Scribes correctly state that the penalty for adultery is death. Stoning was never a punishment of pain, it was a death sentence. Yet Jesus precludes the use of the penalty, telling the woman to “go forth and sin no more”–an impossibility of course to any mortal human being. He forgives her. He in a real sense rehabilitates her. He sends her forth to resume her life, hopefully with a new outlook and a better approach to community living.

Yet these fundamentalists who insist that there is but one way to read the bible, and that is literally, seem able, as is always the case with them, to manage to avoid the obvious literalness of this passage.

They are quite happy to merrily go on judging others and condemning them to death. They continue to usurp the right of God (from their previous logic) to control matters of life and death.

It is why they forever deserve not only our ridicule, but our condemnation as Christians. They are simply users of scripture to accomplish their own personal desires. As such their opinions carry no weight.

So just jump in and rant away good readers!

Searching For the Meaning of “Good” Friday

Good-Friday-11I’ve never been quite sure what the “good” in Good Friday meant. Perhaps we see beyond the pain, torture and death of Christ to the event of Easter. We live in those awful moments not in the moment itself, but in the promise of Sunday.

That seems to trivialize it a bit for me, and it doesn’t satisfy. I know that the Passover, celebrated as the Last Supper by Christians is that wonderful celebration by Jews of the release of the Israelites from bondage in Egypt. It celebrates freedom. And no doubt as the Synoptic Gospels relate, this date for the Last Supper of Jesus (the first night of Passover) serves to symbolize our liberation from sin.

John changes the mix a bit by placing the Last Supper not on the first night of Passover, but the day before, when the lambs are slain for the meal. He likens Jesus to the lamb slain. The general symbolism remains the same.

I am not a believer of substitutionary sin–the theory that Jesus took upon himself our sins and died for them– a demand of a God who requires payment for a sinful world. Such a God, to me at least, is both harsh and ugly–sending his own son to die in the most horrible of ways.

Rather I see, (note that these ideas are surely not my own, but are the theology of many a learned scholar and teacher as well as believers) that Jesus by his willingness to die for his beliefs, shows us the perfect way to engage with this creator we call God. Jesus, in dying, pays the ultimate price for principle, the foundational principle of life–love, no matter what the cost.

For this is the essence of the God that Jesus points us towards. A God who is unimpressed by formulaic ritual and a God saddened by our tendencies to divide ourselves into groups of “saved” “faithful” or “pious” and all others who somehow by human standards fail to reach the mark. So saddened is God by our divisiveness that Jesus shows through his willingness to endure scorn, beating and tortuous death, that even the least among us is worthy of dying for.

As we struggle in our daily lives to come to grips with the deep agonies that divide us as a people and as a world, Jesus on the Cross, stands as testament to the strength that we too can express if we are willing to take up that Cross ourselves and stand for love at all costs.

Jesus stands against those whose primary goal is to protect “number one”. He stands against those who are motivated by greed, self-preservation, and egotistical individual ruggedness. He points the way to a God of grace and love, who calls us daily to be bigger than our selves in our love of brother and sister. This God, so real, so in love with His creation that He becomes one of us, in an effort to show us, by his teaching, suffering and death, what He is really all about.

I speak not of Jesus as the son of God, but as the Son of Man, for the reality or fantasy of Jesus as the incarnate God is beside the point really. If Jesus is so infused with the Spirit of the Transcendent One, then it matters not the creeds we dutifully recite each Sunday. Jesus moved aside as human, and allowed the Spirit of God to envelop him so completely that God really was among us.

All the more important that we be especially careful to separate the Jesus of history from the Jesus of the Church. More and more I find them quite different beings, with quite different agendas. After having read much, I am still in love with Paul and his exuberance for the Gospel, but I recognize that Paul molded the ensuing Church and molded Jesus into that Church. I’m not so sure that it is the Jesus of history whom he never met in the flesh.

We must comb the Gospels carefully I think to find that Jesus–that gentle yet firebrand individual who sought to bring all into the house of God, as true and perfect children. He tenderly attended to the needs of the most broken and rejected in society without asking of them anything in return, other than to put God first in their lives. His anger was invoked by those whom he saw as impeding the people in their attempt to know their God. He pointed the finger and accused them of having lost all sense of why they were doing what they did. It had all become for show, for power, and for accolades.

True piety rested with the many Marys who lived with the Master, the self-less women who sat at his feet, absorbing his wisdom, who anointed his head, washed his feet, and knelt at the foot of the cross, and ultimately went to dress his broken and dead body, and found to their amazement that his real presence washed over them.

If we learn anything from the Friday, called Good, it is that we too can approach God in these simple acts of service–not by asking questions about who deserves and who doesn’t deserve our acts, but in simply being willing to give in love, knowing that the Spirit of God inhabits each and every one of God’s created beings.

Have a blessed Easter Time.

(I know that many of you who read this are not religious, and at best agnostic if not actually atheistic in your outlook. But I think that whatever you believe, you are beloved and understood and accepted by God as you are, and I hope the sentiments I express, resonate in that “human” way that knows no faith.)

I Never Tell the Truth: I’m Lying

dietSo I lied.

So sue me.

I said that I was through with dieting and I meant it.

Until I didn’t.

I have walked 6 days a week and swam 3 days a week for eight months–nine hours of continuous physical movement per week.

I have stronger legs, stronger arms. I have a back that hurts a great deal less. I have more stamina. I have better wind. (no, I don’t fart better!) I have bigger muscles, not that I or anyone else cares.

I have lost not a single ounce.

It’s not about vanity. I dumped vanity as my companion about three years into my marriage, figuring it was a “for better or worse” thing and well, appreciate the meals and cleaning, because I’m not dying my hair, or worrying about stubble no more.

It’s not about health per se, since I’m feeling fine, and figure my exercise routine does a pretty fine job keeping things running normally. But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be better.

No, it’s about not being able to bend over very well, or being able to kneel down and get up again without a winch. (kidding, but damn it’s a struggle all the same) It’s about not being able to do yoga because downward facing dog is more likely to end up with my face planted in the tiling.

It’s about my weight impinging on my back and my feet. Sooooo, as they say, I found another diet.

But, it’s not a diet per se. It’s more like a lifestyle change. It’s called the Intermittent fasting, or 5-2 diet. You fast 2 days and eat regularly 5. You don’t fast 2 consecutive days. You try to not be a pig on the five, but eat normally. On the fasting days a woman consumes 500 calories, and a man 600.

It seems reasonable. It has not yet been studied long-term, but short-term results are promising in terms of blood chemistry and weight loss. Blood pressures go down, blood glucose return to normal, and there is some evidence that it suppresses cancer and heart problems and increases longevity. Mice live longer than normal on it.

People anecdotally claim that they mostly lose weight (although some find that their “feast” days are so out of whack that they have to learn what is “normal”). They claim that they feel more energetic. Many claim that they feel they can stay on this forever when they finally reach their norm. Apparently the fasting days are not so extreme that the body has time to go into starvation mode which is what ruins most diets in the long run. And it’s not a diet per se so much as a way to control calories for life without having to try very hard.

I’m game.

Because it’s calorie restricted on two days it encourages foods that are low in calories yet bulky, like veggies and fruit. You are encouraged to eat a wide range of healthy food the other days.

I’ve made some changes already. I haven’t had chocolate since Ash Wednesday and I’m finding that I don’t miss it that much, substituting my afternoon snack of chocolate with an apple. I’m off all corn syrup fructose drinks, drinking about two traditional 12 oz Cokes a week, instead of about six a week of the bad coke. I also can get Sprite and Fanta Orange!  I just love the orange, wish they would have the grape too!

So, I’m giving it a ride. Because I don’t have to give up anything, just amounts a couple a days a week. One day will be Sunday, since it’s FFY day (fend for yourself). The other? I’m not sure. Tuesday I suspect.

Everybody is doing something it seems. Even Michael Moore walks every day for thirty minutes. He doesn’t care about losing weight. He cares about feeling better and he finds walking enjoyable.

I haven’t changed my basic premise. Diets don’t work. Because diet implies an end. And the end is where things go wrong again. For most of us at least. And I do think you can be big and healthy. And I don’t think ultra skinny is healthy or attractive. And I do believe in eating real food as opposed to boxes of crap. And I do just want to enjoy doing things as long as I can.

So there it is.

Call me a hypocrite, or a liar, or a dumb broad who finally woke up. I’m all, none or something else entirely. I’m just doing what I want to do. And I don’t care who thinks what.

But, seriously, what do you think?

tongueAnd NO, that’s not me! I’m still rockin’ gorgeous!

 

Let’s Hear It for Louis the Lunatic!

Gohmert_Louis-Dummy-2Ah dang, he’s gone and done it again. Put me into a dilemma as to who is the dumbest TeaBibber of them all.

And I really really object to the poor elephant being subjected to association with this band of misfits. It’s, well, elephant abuse!

Anyway, Louis, cuz he’s dumb as a bag of hammers, finally let the cat out of the bag. (Like all those metaphors doncha?) What did he reveal unintentionally?

Oh what the REAL reason for the hoopla over gun safety is about. You see it’s not about the lil children and their safety. Nor the pregnant woman home with three squalling babes having to fend off sixteen rapist-mad snarling sub-humans. It’s not about protecting oneself from evil criminals. No, it’s never really been about that.

It’s all about protecting ourselves from the Evil man in the White House and his black ops helicopter crews and their drones come to ferret out the true Americans from all the takers in the land.

Yes old Louis says we need those big clips for ammo precisely because as you no doubt already know–you can’t take down a government drone with only a few bullets. It will take a BIG clip. And you just know it’s gonna happen. Why else have you bought all that camouflage gear?

Do you think anybody walks down the hall in Congress and sees Louis without snickering?

Oh, in case you didn’t have this information at the ready, Louis says it takes 50 bullets to accomplish the task. So buy accordingly.  And he got his info straight from some yahoo in Alabama or Georgia–the repository of all good solid knowledge in America.

One of the true joys of living a long time is the very real chance to see complete and utter butt asshats get theirs. No, I’m not vindictive. I don’t actively go out and try to get back at anybody who wrongs me or mine. I am utterly convinced that bad shit will eventually happen to bad people. It’s karma.

That seems to be what is happening at last to Karl Rove, the little dough boy who is sicker than your average serial killer. Karl has some more dirty crap that most people could do in seven lifetimes, and after wasting millions of dollars ($400 or more) in the last election, he’s trying to resurrect himself by blaming it all on the Tea Bibbers.

Now, I’d be the first to say that they are a major player in the joke that has become the GOP, some of it falls on dear old Karl himself and various other idiots from Grover Norquist, to Willard Romney, to the extreme right-wing religiosity gang. In any event, Karl wants you to think it’s the Tea Toters, and that it would be a good idea to give him more money so that he can rectify the good ship GOP.

To that end, he started his new super Pac, Conservative Victory Project, to make sure that none of those stupid Christine McDonnell and Ted Akin wannabe’s need apply to run for any office, especially for the House or Senate. Well, as you might assume, the afternoon tea sippers are a might testy at that, trying to limit the public’s right to nominate idiots.

Proving that there is no familial love within the party, plenty are suggesting that it’s time for old Karl to jump back inside his biscuit tube and roll away. Preferably to an underground cave somewhere in the middle of North Dakota.

Ahh revenge, it is best served cold.

You know, I recall that when Ricky Perry was trying to convince the country that he wasn’t quite the idiot people thought he was, he said I believe very directly that after all the folks he had signed off of and allowed to be snuffed out by a “legal” execution by the state and citizenry of Texas, he never suffered from an inability to sleep.

Such a remark of course is only said by a complete dolt.

It turns out that states are starting to move away from this hideous and barbaric crime against humanity. Maryland seems poised to repeal its death penalty law and return to being a civilized group of folks.

I’ve lived in four states in my life time, Michigan, Connecticut, Iowa and now New Mexico. Only one, Connecticut had the death penalty and they have not used it in decades I don’t believe.

Texas leads the nation with executing better than 450 since 1976, four times more than the next in line, Virginia. After that, it falls off hugely. Mostly the South is still kill happy. The link has a state-by-state rundown. See how your state fares.

Well, it’s Friday. I wish you all a great weekend, though I shall be posting tomorrow, but seriously, you need to stop reading all this gloom and doom and have some fun. Or get inspired. Or get stinky high on whatever floats your boat. Here’s some pretty for you to begin with.

Birds-of-A-Featherbuttfartssnowmonkey-935maui

 

 

Juggling Life Turning to Balance

juggling-lifeNo matter your life style, no matter your family situation, no matter, no matter, you are juggling your life. Even if it amounts to nothing more than “shall I sit here and watch The Price is Right, clean the toilet, or make some brownies?”, you are juggling choices that are only yours to make.

You decide priorities, the order of things, and the time devoted. Oh of course, it’s all to a greater or lesser degree I admit. But let’s not pretend we are at being controlled by outside forces completely. Even the prisoner confined to a cell twenty-three hours a day has control of his or her mind.

So don’t give in to the safe but ultimately untrue belief that you have no control, and that whatever mess you find yourself in, is not your fault. It may well not be in most of its tendrils, but YOU decide how YOU will relate to it at least.

No, I’m not giving you some lecture as to how to run your life. I have plenty enough trouble juggling my own. What I am suggesting is that the daily stories of people talking about how they are running all the time just to keep up, well, I don’t think it needs to be that way. That’s not the norm and if it is for all too many people, it shouldn’t be. For it’s simply not healthy.

I mean healthy in the broadest of senses. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and gasp, spiritually. Yes, spiritually.

Fully aware that a good many of my most loyal readers are at best agnostic, I still broach the term spiritual. For we are spiritual whether in a religious sense or only in a more naturalist, biological sense. For if you deny or suspect that no superior being(s) had a thing to do with this planet or you, then you probably believe rather wholeheartedly in evolutionary theory and have some thinking about how life started on this blue dot.

Not that believers don’t believe in a “scientific” answer for life and how it evolved. A good many of us do, in fact, I’d hazard a guess that most of us do. Evolution tells us how life forms change over time. And it is inescapable from the evidence at hand, that we, long in our past, share a common ancestor with chimps and gorillas and orangutans. Ultimately, we regress back to one-celled creature that first replicated in some primordial soup of chemicals and water.

Where am I going with this? Please you know me by now. I wander, as my dancing neurons flip and kiss, and circle and part, cross and leap in joyous chaos that is my brain. I’m getting to the point. Geesh, relax!

So last night the Contrarian and I sat down and watched Under the Tuscan Sun. If you haven’t seen it, I’ll summarize without giving away any of the goodies. A newly divorced nearing middle-age, writer takes a gift of a trip to Tuscany, and on a whim, buys a beautiful old villa that is in need of much work. The balance of the movie is about her growth as her house comes into itself, as does she. From beginning to end, she is challenged to rely on intuition, not do the safe thing, and to think with her heart. I think of it as living in the Spirit.

It got me to thinking, with all the dangers that that always entails. I thought about our trip here to Las Cruces, and the thinly veiled intuitive hope that we would find a home that would make my heart sing again. For those of you who have been on this long journey with me, you know that I was barely hanging on at times in the meadow, living on hope and faith that I could reclaim the free spirit that I felt had sunk deep within and was losing ground. I guess I make it sound worse than it was, for surely I found times of laughter and joy in those last couple of years, but my heart yearned to soar in a new place where the sun shined more, and the temperatures would tease forth my innate sense of wonder at life.

That happened for us. It happened with a shocking perfection that still takes my breath away when I think of it. If I had listed the twenty things I wanted in my new home environment, fully eighteen have been met and the other two are available, just slightly more difficult to achieve, i.e., I have to drive fifteen minutes to the pool instead of it being two blocks away!

It has been my firm belief for a good many years that there are several components to a good life:

  1. Proper care of the body. Nutritious food and reasonable exercise. Sleep enough.
  2. Proper care of the intellect. Plenty of good books, good movies and intellectually probing television (PBS of course) and conversation and study.
  3. Proper care of the psyche. The cultivating of relationships, creative spirit, and doing things you love for themselves.
  4. Proper care of the soul. Plenty of spiritual reading, and spiritual living (walking in nature, meditation,  mindfulness, kindness, charity, volunteering and all that that entails).

You note that I don’t include an involvement in civic affairs or something of that nature. Well, I find that doing that sort of thing is really feeding one’s own soul. So it falls under number 4.

These are the keys, I believe to a life well lived, or happiness as we commonly understand it. The bare outlines of course. Each of the four requires a fleshing out of several pages no doubt. And it is just not the four, but the BALANCE between them that makes it all work like a well-oiled machine.

I’m still finding the balance, but in the last few days as I have snuggled in, recovering from a cold, I’ve been organizing and puttering in my head, to better balance my life. And it’s coming along.

And it feels good.

How is your juggling going along and are you in balance?

 

 

The Legacy of Race

mlk-prayingIt is a stunning bit of serendipity that the President’s second Inaugural falls on this day we celebrate as Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It gives me pause to reflect upon the legacy of Dr. King, and how far we have traveled, and how far, sadly we still have to go.

Because our President is African-American, it is almost inevitable that the rabid minority who detest him with a fervor that reaches to at or near real hatred, are quick to point out (almost always unasked of course) that they are not racists. But they also go further, attempting in some drug-induced phantasmagoria to capture Dr. King as their own. They quote with self-satisfaction two facts: one, that Dr. King was after all, one of them, a Republican, and second they quote from his “I Have a Dream” speech, that they “judge a person by the content of their character and not by the color of their skin.”

To them, this settles the question. If anyone pursues the issue further, they are “race baiting” or “playing the race card”, trying to blame their circumstances not on their own limitations, but rather on a non-existent barrier that prevents them from reaching their goal.

Race still matters in America. No matter how politically correct we are, or how politically correct we witness others being, the ugly face of racism seethes just below the surface. My own father, a man as racist as any could be, became politically correct, dropping the “N” word from his speech, but he could snarl out the word “black” with the same venomous disgust as the other word. There was no mistaking his true views.

History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals. (MLK Letter from Birmingham Jail)

Race matters when those on the extreme Right refuse to legitimize the present office holder of the Presidency. Race matters when posters are painted of the Commander-in-Chief as a African Voodoo artist. Race matters when the emphasis is placed on Mr. Obama’s middle name. Race matters when the only African-Americans deemed acceptable are those who uphold the views of the Right that “everyone” now has an equal chance. Race matters when the majority of black Americans are “victims” of the Plantation Democrats, unable apparently to think for themselves, but need the Right to explain to them that “handouts” aren’t real progress.

When Planned Parenthood is attacked as a genocide upon the black race, rather than what it is, an organization that provides the only health care available to millions of women of color and otherwise, race matters.

Race matters when undocumented workers who pay taxes, and work for low wages doing the jobs that most white folks won’t do, raising their families to be hardworking, and law-abiding citizens, are called “Illegals”. When we seek to strip citizenship from their children because they are “anchor babies”, racism is dripping from our lips.

Race matters when our sisters living within the reservations still can be assaulted by non-Native men and get no justice.

Race matters in this country and we refuse to see it and deny it at our peril. For racial hatred is deadly, it eats at the fabric of society and destroys it from within. It keeps us from embracing each other with full acceptance, but mires us in the mud of distrust and suspicion.

We are not a society that is free of racism, any more than we are free of sexism, any more than we are free of our own versions of what is moral and what is not. We are not tolerant about many things, and there are those who say that to be tolerant is  to be accepting of that which we know to be wrong merely to get along. That is not true. To be tolerant is to recognize that we, each of us, do not have a corner on morality. Our version is not THE version necessarily. Being tolerant is being open to the possibility that there are other ways, ways better than ours. For the religious, it means we are open to the work of the Spirit to enlarge our world and to our understanding of Right.

Martin Luther King Jr., was not a Republican because he believed in the tenets of the Republican party, surely not as it exists today. He is not yours, Tea party adherents. He was a Republican because that was his only choice given the Dixiecrat Democrats, who were thoroughly opposed to civil rights for black people.

Martin Luther King Jr., was not in favor of simply having an even playing field, which you Tea party adherents claim. Such doesn’t exist in the first place. And secondly Dr. King spoke often about the inequality of wealth in this country and its dangers. In fact he wondered whether capitalism was a viable economic model if it resulted in such inequality and poverty at the bottom of the pyramid of society.

Martin Luther King Jr., died while engaged in support of sanitation workers in Memphis. He supported unions and knew that they were the only viable means of securing fair wages and safe working conditions for all workers.

Look within yourselves. We must each look within ourselves. Racism is insidious. Find it. Eradicate it.

racist_obama_08_monkey_t-shirt(2)    art.obama.protest.sign.cnn

obama-idiot-sign

ropehate

 

Obama hate sticker II (Facebook via HuffPost)TeaPartyComix_ObamaSmoking

 

‘nuf said?

Do You Like Sport?

funny-sports-12Are we getting it yet?

Are you still enthralled with your favorite hero? Is it Clay Matthews or LeBron James? Is it Wayne Gretzky or Miguel Cabrera? You do realize they are humans and they are flawed don’t you?

Lance Armstrong is so flawed he deserves to be in his own hall of fame of worst possible human being in the entire 20th and 21st century. I mean, he stands back and admits to all the things he’s been accused of for years, without batting an eye, oblivious EMOTIONALLY to all the pain he has caused others. He’s a sociopath, and in another life would be a mass murderer. Instead he’s just a mass cheater, liar, and life wrecker.

Manti Ta’o? The kid from Notre Dame with the strange story about the girlfriend he had never met and may never have existed? Oh, I have no clue if Manti was in on the hoax or a victim of it. Having spend more hours than I wish to admit to on the old IRC back in the day, I know so many stories like this that I’m inclined to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. I knew people who feel deeply in love with personas that were not even close to truth. I knew men who fell in love with men who thought they were women. Truly it happens. Or it did.  .  .  . back in the day at least.

Never happened to me. Back before the Contrarian, I met a lot of men via the Internet, and physically met close to a half dozen. They were all who they purported to be. I was lucky I guess. I met the Contrarian via the Internet, and in a display of utter dumbness, or incredibly acute intuition, gave up my apartment and hired a moving company before I had laid eyes on the man. But we are now into thirteen years of marriage, and a happy one at that. Don’t use me as measure however of the safety of this medium of communication. I am quite sure if you x-ray my skull, you will find the alien implant that suggests I’m just on loan from Planet Glix for an earthly experiment. I think my real occupation, when not being a test subject (think 2 years government service equivalency), is as an online psychic charlatan on the run from three known law suits, and three hybrid brides who were left at the altar.

See, that stuff floats through my head, and just must be when the old implant goes into a defib mode for a few seconds.

Anyway, either Manti or Lance serve once again to remind us that we should never place our adoration at the foot of most any human, for they are just always going to disappoint you in the end by being ALL TOO HUMAN. Or maybe less human in the case of Lance.

Which begs the question, where does one lay one’s adoration? Some find elegance in the medium of mathematics, and indeed I can appreciate the elegance of that. Or the universe itself which has a majesty that is enough for 3,000 lifetimes. One can find enough to adore in the soft breathing of a newborn, a new-born of any species actually. Awe is part of adoration after all, and life awes.

I find a single dandelion growing through the crack in an old sidewalk worthy of adoration. After all, talk about tenacity. Tenacity seems worthy of adoration.

So symmetry,  the miracle of life, and tenacity are in the mix. How about longevity?

Old-Man

There is much to be admired in a face like this. A worn face, a face that has worked, loved, cried, laughed, and somehow continued on.

Eyes that hold a library full of stories.

Hands that have caressed a woman’s cheek and then tightened around a wrench and heaved loose a nut.

Shall we trip the light fantastic and delve into the realm of mystery? Shall we glimpse the ineffable, the transcendent? Are we not in the place of adoration?

Shall we imagine the temperatures and pressures that brought into being the pebble that you walk upon? That came from the rock, that came from the mountain, long broken and sunk back into the landscape? Adore it?

Did all this start in a giggle of a thought about Mitt Romney and his reference to liking “sport” instead of “sports?”

Can we adore the mind that can move across such distance of space and subject,  and still remain stable enough to shop for groceries and watch 30Rock?

You tell me.