The latest administration talking point is that the Iranian government has authorized the sell of weapons to insurgents in Iraq. What B*sh and his team are likely counting on is that the American public is as ignorant about the religious politics of the area as Mr. B*sh is.
Mr. B*sh likes to frame things as "fer us" or "agin us", so I'll make it simple:
The Iranian government is primarily Shia. The majority in Iraq (Mr. Maliki, et al) are Shia. Our forces insured the election which put Mr. Maliki (as Prime Minister) in power, so the Shia in Iraq are, de facto, our allies. They are "fer us".
Most of the insurgents killing Americans are Sunni, the minority Islamic group which enjoyed power and privilege during Saddam Hussein’s regime. They are "agin us".
If the Iranian government were providing weapons to the Sunni, they would be aiding a force they see as apostate and enemies. If they are providing weapons to the Shia, they are helping to arm our allies.
Doesn’t make much sense, does it?
Many on the left are concerned that this talk about weapons coming from Iran is a replay of the WPM "intelligence" which got us into this mess in the first place. That is, there is a concern that members of the administration are attempting to build a case for invading Iran (or to run covert forays across the border).
Aside from the fact that our military force is stretched to the limit, I share this concern. I am now convinced there is no action too stupid or foolish for this administration to attempt. If B*sh, or any of his minions claimed the sky was blue, I’d be convinced the sky had suddenly turned purple.
It may be time to consider where insurgent groups really are getting their weapons. I have no doubt there’s a healthy black market from a variety of sources, including Iran. However, I’d be willing to make a small wager regarding the source of the majority of those weapons (or the components thereof): weapons depots. The very depots that were not guarded or protected following our invasion of Iraq.
Now, who’s fault is that? Well, Rumsfeld is an obvious choice, but who hired Rumsfeld?
I trust you see where this logic leads. If being the source of these weapons is grounds for attack, then there is only one logical conclusion.
The President, Vice President, and a majority of their advisers (including Ms. Rice) are enemy combatants. I do not suggest that we declare war on these people. There is a fitting and proper place for enemy combatants until the end of hostilities.
Send 'em to Gitmo.
Edited to add:Seems I'm not the only one who had an idea along these lines. See Robert J. Elisberg's satire in the Huffington Post.
Post #1800
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Idée d’jour
It is an ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way.
— Rollo May, psychologist (1909-1994)
— Rollo May, psychologist (1909-1994)
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Tom Paxton
Pictured is the first Tom Paxton album our family bought. Padre bought it in late 1971 or early 1972 on the strength of a record review. And it was good. Not a bad introduction to Paxton's music.
Tom Paxton was among the group of singer-songwriters in the early sixties sometimes called "Woody's Children"; that is, this group (e.g., Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs, Judy Collins) carried on Woody Guthrie's folk tradition, not only by singing traditional songs, but also by writing and singing new songs. These new songs would often address concerns of the common man or current political issues, as Woody's did.
How Come the Sun is a good example. The opening track, "I Had to Shoot That Rabbit", addressed the Viet Nam war as well as the sport of hunting. The title track addressed ecology as well as the folly of human warfare.
Tom Paxton was raised in Oklahoma (his family moved here when he was 11). He attended the University of Oklahoma, where he majored in drama. He returns to Oklahoma sporatically, the most recent trip being this past Friday (Feb. 9) when he performed at Stage Center.
He played two 50-minute sets. He played a lot of favorites, including his best-known songs, "Ramblin' Boy" and "Last Thing on My Mind". I didn't recognize every song he played, but I enjoyed all of them. In particular, I was pleased to hear him play "Jennifer's Rabbit" from his Morning Again album.
I did hope he would sign autographs; I brought the How Come the Sun album cover in case he would.
As you see, he was kind enough to sign the album cover.
While signing the cover, he explained the child on the cover was his daughter Kate. Then he named the group on the back cover: Kate, Tom, his wife Midge, and his daughter Jennifer.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Iran/Iraq
This weekend a press conference was held in Bagdad to substantiate administration claims that Iran is providing weapons to Shia insurgents in Iraq. The press was allowed to take notes, but all the speakers spoke on the condition of anonymity. Mortar shells with serial numbers were displayed, but the paper trail which connected those serial numbers with anyone in Irani leadership were not shared.
Once again, the international community and the American people are being asked to take the administration's word for it. Once again, we are being asked to trust intelligence assessments. This is one member of the American public who must say, "You didn't fool me with your ginned-up 'evidence' of WPM in Iraq, and you aren't going to fool me with a few mortar shells which may or may not have come from Iran."
I recognize my opinion echoes that of the Iranian leadership, for whom I have little affection. It is possible for them to be right on this point, while they are wrong on so much else.
I contended early on that B*sh had confused Iran and Iraq. The man practically bragged about his ignorance of the world and world affairs when he first ran for office in 2000. It seems likely that he confused two countries that are geographically close together, and whose names differ by only one letter. One really has been seeking atomic weapons (Iran); the other, Iraq, likely would have been happy to get one, but lacked the means to do so.
If B*sh had really intended to attack a country which sought nuclear weapons, and which might have desired to use them on the U.S., he really should have attacked Iran back in '02. But that ship has sailed. Even if this were a just reason for war - which I don't think it is - it's too late now. Our forces are stretched too thin as it is.
Hopefully, even B*sh is not so foolish as to stretch our forces to the breaking point.Saturday, February 10, 2007
Idée d’jour
It is said that there are seventeen hundred koans. Actually, there are as many koans in life as there are individuals, and each individual's life is nothing but koans.
— Koryu Osaka
I am reminded of my introduction to Zen. It was through the comedian Shelly Berman. I forget the context, but in the midst of a routine, Mr. Berman mentioned a koan (a sort of unsolvable riddle used in Zen) – one of the best known – "You know the sound of two hands clapping, but what is the sound of one hand clapping?"
From that tease, which I first heard as a pre-teen, I became curious about koans and Zen. So I was receptive when I saw Alan Watts' "Conversation with Myself" on PBS in my early teens. Later, I bought my first Watts' book, Beat Zen, Square Zen, and Zen. Later still, I bought Paul Reps' collection of Zen writings, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones (which included the original source of the "one hand" koan).
Shelly Berman also introduced me to Franz Kafka; one of his records had a routine, "Kafka on the telephone." From this, I collected Kafka stories, and read chunks of his novels.
I guess I was an autodidact from an early age, following my curiosity where-ever it would lead. Still do, thank goodness.
— Koryu Osaka
I am reminded of my introduction to Zen. It was through the comedian Shelly Berman. I forget the context, but in the midst of a routine, Mr. Berman mentioned a koan (a sort of unsolvable riddle used in Zen) – one of the best known – "You know the sound of two hands clapping, but what is the sound of one hand clapping?"
From that tease, which I first heard as a pre-teen, I became curious about koans and Zen. So I was receptive when I saw Alan Watts' "Conversation with Myself" on PBS in my early teens. Later, I bought my first Watts' book, Beat Zen, Square Zen, and Zen. Later still, I bought Paul Reps' collection of Zen writings, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones (which included the original source of the "one hand" koan).
Shelly Berman also introduced me to Franz Kafka; one of his records had a routine, "Kafka on the telephone." From this, I collected Kafka stories, and read chunks of his novels.
I guess I was an autodidact from an early age, following my curiosity where-ever it would lead. Still do, thank goodness.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Volkswagen Graveyard
I went on a retreat this past weekend, just a little east of Seminole, OK. While there, a couple of participants, who had come from Tulsa, mentioned passing the Volkswagen Graveyard. Padre and Brother Dave both owned VW Beetles. In fact, Brother Dave sold me his during my first or second year of college. I have especially fond memories of riding with Padre in his Beetle, which was a gift from his older sisters.
I was carpooling; happily, the driver had overheard the discussion and asked if I'd like to stop by. Oh yes. Yes, indeed.
The driver counted on me to act as navigator, since I was the one interested. Obviously, she was unaware of my long and colorful history of misdirection (although I have told her the story of getting lost in Kansas City). I sat with the people who had talked about the graveyard and we looked at a map of Oklahoma. It appeared as if the place was south of I-40.
I asked what town it was near, and was told "Ixl", which was not on the map we were perusing. The town, and the "graveyard" were on Hwy 48, which was a few miles out of our way. But the driver was still willing to check it out.
We left the lodge a between 11:00 and noon. It wasn't long before the driver expressed concern that we missed our exit. I assured her that it was marked on the map as a state highway, and would therefore have a road sign.
Driving east on Hwy 9 is very pleasant because eastern Oklahoma tends to have more hills and trees than western Oklahoma, and the road meanders much more than the interstate.
We finally came to the Highway 48 exit, and started north. And drove. And drove. We passed several salvage/junk yards, and the driver would ask, "Do you think that's it?" And I would respond that I couldn't see a single Volkswagen.
We passed I-40, at which point I figured my talent for misdirection had reared its puckish head. We drove. And drove. And drove some more. Lots of hills. Lots of cattle - even a longhorn. Winding road.
After a while, the driver said, "I'm going to give it x more miles, then we'll turn back." By the time we had traversed the set number of miles, we came to Hwy 56. The directions had included the fact that the "graveyard" was north of Hwy 56, so we kept on going.
Not long after we passed the intersection of Hwys 48 & 56, we saw a sign for Ixl. Ixl consists of a few houses and one quick mart. About ten minutes north of Ixl, we came to the Volkswagen graveyard. I jumped out of the car and started taking pictures (the shot above is one of about six pictures taken).
The owner of the yard drove out in his pick-up truck and chatted with us. His father had started the business, about 56 years ago. As you see in the picture, most of the vehicles are Beetles, but there are a few vans and campers off in the distance.
In the 50s and 60s, the Beetle was similar to the Model T: it was an affordable and reliable car. A person with modest mechanical skills can maintain the car with little trouble. If one takes good care of the car (primarily by keeping it fed with oil), it will last a good long time – unlike most American cars.
The story goes that Hitler designed the Beetle; this is likely Nazi propaganda. For one thing, the Volkswagen that was built in Nazi Germany looks more like a large sedan than the Beetle we loved in the 60s. However, it's probably true that he named the company "Volkswagen", which translates to "the people's car".
The owner of the yard said the place was less popular now than it once had been, although he has started collecting the modern Beetle. He told us stories of people who paid for parts, then never collected them. The saddest story was of a motorcyclist, who seemed very excited by the Beetles, and paid a good sum for one in fair condition, yet never returned. "I've always thought he must have crashed that cycle somewhere on the road."
I'm quite thankful to the driver for driving out of her way to view this unique "tourist attraction". It's good to share such adventures with a friend.Friday Five: American Idols
Theme suggested by Songbird.
Songbird admits she has been watching the latest season of American Idol. I haven't been able to watch more than 15 minutes worth. It is symbolic of the worst of American culture (appealing to the lowest common denominator), the worst of the pop music industry (playing it safe with the same old mid-stream pablum), and the worst popular vocal styling (melisma). With that caveat, here's the game:
Songbird admits she has been watching the latest season of American Idol. I haven't been able to watch more than 15 minutes worth. It is symbolic of the worst of American culture (appealing to the lowest common denominator), the worst of the pop music industry (playing it safe with the same old mid-stream pablum), and the worst popular vocal styling (melisma). With that caveat, here's the game:
- If I could sing like anyone, it would be myself.
Now that I've recovered from the worst of my cold, I'm so pleased that I can sing again. I know there's plenty of folk who can sing technically better than me. I know there's some who are more soulful, or whatever, but this morning as I type this, I like how I sing. I like how people respond to my singing voice. It's a gift, and I'm glad to share it. - I
wouldlove to sing the song "The Guests," by Leonard Cohen.
I start singing practically from the time I wake up. Some songs become "ear worms" and follow me throught the day.
Other times, I'm woodshedding a song for performance - which means memorizing the lyrics (primarily) and playing with the melody.
"The Guests" is a song I come back to frequently. I've already memorized the lyrics, which are profoundly beautiful:One by one the guests arrive
It took me a couple of years of living with this song to realize it could be about our lives. God is the host who cries, "Welcome, welcome, let all my guests come in" as we wander through God's house mystified by the torches flaring.
The guests are coming through
The open-hearted many
The broken-hearted few.
And no one knows where the night is going
No one knows why the wine is flowing
Oh, love, I need you, I need you, I need you
Oh ... I need you now
. . . .
All go stumbling through that house
In the utmost urgency
Saying, "Please reveal yourself"
Or, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" - It would be really cool to sing at Carnegie Hall.
Why not aim high? You thought maybe I would say "My shower"?
I have sung on stage many times. It's typically an enjoyable experience, although I rarely know how to respond to people praising my performance (beyond saying thank you). - If I could sing a dream duet it would be with Natalie Merchant.
Which was about the fourth name that came to mind. Interesting that all the names that came to mind were female – Streisand, Sheryl Crow, Joan Baez. Why Natalie? She's the one I have the biggest crush on. And she writes some amazing songs.
I do miss Sarah, the singing partner I had several years ago. She was a class act. She was much more knowledgable about music theory than me, but she was gentle in directing me. She was a trained vocalist, but didn't disdain the pleasure of "folk" music. Our voices blended perfectly. - If I could sing on a TV or radio show, it would be The Tonight Show.
Although I would prefer to have appeared with Johnny Carson than on the Jay Leno iteration. I'm not a fan of Leno.
However, if I were to give full reign to my fantasy, my dream would be to be a guest host - ala John Denver. Experience in leading group discussions suggests I would do well as a talk show host (if my face were TV-worthy).
I actually did serve as a guest host on a local cable-access show, so I have some minimal experience.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Celtic Rune of Hospitality
I saw a stranger yesterday;
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred name of the Triune God
he blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Oft, Oft, Oft,
goes Christ in the stranger's guise.
Quoted by BP Katharine Jefferts Schori in this reflection
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred name of the Triune God
he blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Oft, Oft, Oft,
goes Christ in the stranger's guise.
Quoted by BP Katharine Jefferts Schori in this reflection
Status Report
I took my last steroid on Tuesday. My mental attitude is still positive. I don't feel like I'm on speed anymore. In fact, yesterday afternoon, I got extremely tired at work. As soon as I got home, I changed then lay down on the couch I slept for an hour and a half.
Now, part of that tiredness may have been due to "coming down" from the steroids. The other part may have been due to my assisting with a project which was due today. I have been working straight through the day (except for lunch break), with minimal "Internet breaks". This is actually a pleasant change of pace; I'm not paid a lot, but I do like feeling that I've earned it. And I appreciate feeling useful.
Between being busy at work and cat sitting, I haven't had time to revamp the appearance of "Love During Wartime". My goal is to work on it this Saturday.
Meanwhile, I've been posting pictures from this past weekend at my alternablog, Jonah 365. Go take a look and leave a trace.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Idée d’jour
My greatest skill has been to want but little.
— Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)
— Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)
Monday, February 05, 2007
Housekeeping
I recently "up-graded" to the new Blogger. The initial step of this upgrade did not affect my painstakingly designed layout. The second step did; the system assumes most people who use Blogger are not familiar with xhtml (probably a safe assumption) or Cascading Style Sheets (css). There are a relatively few prefab templates this type of user is required to select. The one you see now is the least objectionable.
It's taken some digging, but I've found the instructions to create one's own design within the new xhtml requirements of the new Blogger. I anticipate it will take me at least a week to recreate the design according to their specs.
Another thing I lost in the "upgrade" was the Haloscan comments. I prefer this system, as people can sign a name without the requirement of a Google account.
One last thing: it's occurred to me I may have been overly enthusiastic in setting up a separate site for my Project 365 entries. This page has suffered (in a sense) because energy has been focused on the new site. I'm seriously considering consolidating the two pages; in other words, once I've fixed the layout of this page, I'll start doing Project 365 entries here and stop posting on Jonah 365.
If you, dear reader, have a preference, record them in the comments. Note that anonymous comments will be accepted.
It's taken some digging, but I've found the instructions to create one's own design within the new xhtml requirements of the new Blogger. I anticipate it will take me at least a week to recreate the design according to their specs.
Another thing I lost in the "upgrade" was the Haloscan comments. I prefer this system, as people can sign a name without the requirement of a Google account.
One last thing: it's occurred to me I may have been overly enthusiastic in setting up a separate site for my Project 365 entries. This page has suffered (in a sense) because energy has been focused on the new site. I'm seriously considering consolidating the two pages; in other words, once I've fixed the layout of this page, I'll start doing Project 365 entries here and stop posting on Jonah 365.
If you, dear reader, have a preference, record them in the comments. Note that anonymous comments will be accepted.
Idée d’jour
Those who understand the Tao delight, like cats, in just sitting and watching without any goal or result in mind. But when a cat gets tired of sitting, it gets up and goes for a walk or hunts mice. It does not punish itself or compete with other cats in an endurance test as to how long it can remain immovable – unless there is some real reason for being still, such as catching a bird.
— Alan Watts
— Alan Watts
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Idée d’jour
Want to know how to catch a mouse?
Don't try to learn from a pampered cat.
To know the nature of the world,
Don't study fine-bound books.
— Shih-Te (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
Don't try to learn from a pampered cat.
To know the nature of the world,
Don't study fine-bound books.
— Shih-Te (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
Friday, February 02, 2007
Friday Five: ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Suggested by Reverend Mother.
- Share, if you wish, the biggest change you experienced this past year.
I think one reason I became depressed toward the end of the year is because there had been so little change. No romantic relationship; same job with same daily routine. Same words and phrases getting recycled in my poetry. Same pictures of the same cat. Same nightly routine with the same night-time soap operas and comedies. Same, same, same.
Yes, it did become a cycle of sorts. The sameness fed the depression, and the depression lowered any energy I might have devoted to changing the routine. Some changes within the past month:- With the worst of my cold behind me, my mental attitude has improved
- This attitude has also gotten an artificial boost from the steroids I'm taking for inflammation in my Eustachian tube.
- I've started power-walking once a week at a local mall. I hope to maintain this discipline (the iPod helps), and increase the number of times I walk each week
- Talk about a time you changed your mind about something, important or not.
I am reminded of the first time I went to Kansas City, MO. I had gifted my former wife a trip to the jazz festival there, including a stay at a nice hotel. I seemed to have an exceptionally poor sense of direction. If I chose to turn left, I should have turned right, and vice versa. I even started playing mind games: "I think I should turn left, so I should actually turn right." Murphy's Law dominated, and in these instances it would turn out my initial instinct had been correct. - Bishop John Shelby Spong wrote a controversial book [titled] Why Christianity Must Change or Die. Setting aside his ideas – what kind of changes would you like to see in the Church?
In the history of the early church, it's clear the church was not afraid of adopting ideas and images from other traditions. The earliest example of this is Paul's "To A God Unknown" sermon recorded in the Book of Acts. The church would "baptize" symbols, traditions, and concepts from other religions as a means of encouraging people to convert to Christianity.
Many today have a distrust of those "pagan" symbols (e.g. Halloween). This is unfortunate. Others refuse to engage modern culture on the grounds the church will become "polluted" by it. There's no question regarding the Christian content of U2's lyrics, as one obvious example, but might there be a Christian (or at least spiritual) layer in other popular media?
Can we find new meaningful titles for God and Christ? How meaningful is it to say "Jesus is Lord" when our popular concept of a lord is a relatively powerless figurehead? How meaningful is to say "The Lord is my shepherd" when most Americans have no experience of sheep outside of a zoo? Though the phrase "Jesus is my CEO" grates on my ears, it is at least a step in the right direction. - Have you changed your hairstyle/hair color in the last five years? If so, how many times?
No. However, my hairstyle has changed naturally. My forehead real estate is rapidly increasing (advertising available at reasonable rates!) and I have gained a natural tonsure (as shown here). - What WERE they thinking with that New Coke thing?
They counted on the thrill of the new, and discounted generations of customer loyalty. Fear of the new is not limited to certain denominations; the general populace tends to be resistant to rapid change.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Riding High, Now
I have detailed some of my health issues over at my alterna-blog, Jonah 365. For the purpose of this entry, all you need to know is my
eustachian tube was congested, resulting in tinnitus.
eustachian tube was congested, resulting in tinnitus.
I went to an ORL specialist (ear, nose & throat) a week ago Monday (1/22), and he prescribed steroids to relieve any swelling in my eustachian tube. This is my first experience with steroids.
A co-worker (whose husband is a Physician's Assistant) told me a side-effect of steroids is that one "feels good": less muscle aches, no joint pain, and so on. For me, this also translates to improved emotions. I don't mind; after being depressed from sometime in November through early January, I appreciate the change.
The first few days of the steroid script, I was just this side of manic. I had already gone almost a week without a full night's rest due to the tinnitus. The steroid-related mania made this worse: I had difficulty getting to sleep; would wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning, then have difficulty getting back to sleep.
After a week of this, my brain was pretty fried. I had poor concentration, and was beginning to jabber like a speed freak.
Just the idea of insufficient rest makes me anxious. Going for over two weeks with less than 8 hrs/night was really getting to me. So I called the Physician's Asst, he prescribed Ambien, and suggested I try half a tablet a night.
Happily, that has worked. No hangover. Still feel emotionally positive. Mental accuity and concentration greatly improved. I've been taking the Ambien every other night, on average.
I recognize that I have an addictive personality (to use the most recent politically correct formulation). I've had a history of alcohol abuse, along with less legal mood-altering chemicals. Gertrude Behanna, author of The Late Liz, aptly describes one symptom of the addictive personality as the belief that "if one is enough, twenty must be better." Consequently, I tend to be very cautious about using any mood-altering medications.
The experience of the past two months suggests to me that I may need to reassess. At minimum, if I still want to avoid prescription meds, I might want to start taking St John's Wort again (which has helped in the past).
Steroids have two other side-effects that have gotten significant notice in the popular media: erectile dysfunction and rage. I have had little opportunity to test whether I suffer the first side-effect (*ahem*), but I have a theory about the second.
When I first started taking the steroids, I felt like I was running 90 miles an hour, and the rest of world was running at 5. Everyone else was going too slow, for no discernable good reason. I can understand how a person might feel frustrated, and respond violently. I personally had sufficient accuity to remind myself that this "racing" feeling was a side-effect of the drug, and that I should not respond to reality based on it.
So, life feels good at the moment. My ear is still ringing, but it is less intense. I have hope it will resolve by the end of the steroid script. My iPod is getting a lot more use than normal, because I'm playing it at work. I use wordless music as a form of white noise to distract me from the tinnitus. I keep the volume low, so I can hear the phone ring, and am aware when someone wants to get my attention.
But — a day with music is 100% better than a day without. How lucky am I that my immediate superiors (implicitly) allow me to do this!Idée d'jour
Man's last and highest parting is when, for God's sake, he takes leave
of God.
— Meister Eckhart (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
of God.
— Meister Eckhart (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Ideé d’jour
Knowledge comes but wisdom lingers.
— Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
— Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Press)
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Idée d’jour
Lose your mind and come to your senses.
— Fritz Perls (quoted in Zen Calendar, Workman Press,
© 2007)
— Fritz Perls (quoted in Zen Calendar, Workman Press,
© 2007)
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Quote d’jour
The question now before the country is the one confronted by the man afraid of finding out he's been robbed. How much longer do we wish to pretend that nothing really happened, or that nothing really valuable is lost; that the crime is the losing of the Iraq war, not the making of it?
— Lewis H. Lapham, arguing for investigation of the first six years of the B*sh administration (Harper's Magazine, January 2007)
— Lewis H. Lapham, arguing for investigation of the first six years of the B*sh administration (Harper's Magazine, January 2007)
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Brother Wolf
Cross-post from Jonah 365
Text reads:
Jack Kerouac would have called something like this poetic form an "American Haiku". I call it "automatic poetry" (as in, "automatic writing", cf. Wm B. Yeats) or a "postcard poem". I see this as an application of William Stafford's "poem a day" discipline.
According to Reverend Mother, "It is reported that when William Stafford was asked how he was able to write a poem every day, he said, 'I lowered my standards.'"
So, I write a postcard poem as if the words cannot be changed. No previous draft, no edits. Scribble away, then send it off to your wondering (or wonderful) correspondent.
I have "cheated", in that the version of the poem above is slightly altered from the original. OTOH, how can I cheat when I'm the one making the rules?
Text reads:
Brother wolf, look!I recently received a pack of blank note cards from Defenders of Wildlife which had various wolf pictures on the front. I sent this card, with the original version of the poem written inside, to Brother Dave.
Sister rabbit
studies shadows
in freshly fallen snow.
See full-size version of this card
Jack Kerouac would have called something like this poetic form an "American Haiku". I call it "automatic poetry" (as in, "automatic writing", cf. Wm B. Yeats) or a "postcard poem". I see this as an application of William Stafford's "poem a day" discipline.
According to Reverend Mother, "It is reported that when William Stafford was asked how he was able to write a poem every day, he said, 'I lowered my standards.'"
So, I write a postcard poem as if the words cannot be changed. No previous draft, no edits. Scribble away, then send it off to your wondering (or wonderful) correspondent.
I have "cheated", in that the version of the poem above is slightly altered from the original. OTOH, how can I cheat when I'm the one making the rules?
Idée d'jour
A mystical experience is not any more unique than a modern experiment in physics. On the other hand, it is not less sophisticated, either .... The complexity and efficiency of the physicist's technical apparatus is matched, if not surpassed, by that of the mystic's consciousness .... A page from a journal of modern experimental physics will be as mysterious to the uninitiated as a Tibetan mandala. Both are records of inquiries into the nature of the universe.
— Fritjof Capra (quoted in this year’s Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Publishing)
Post #1775
— Fritjof Capra (quoted in this year’s Zen Calendar, ©2007 Workman Publishing)
Post #1775
Friday, January 26, 2007
Friday Five: Renewal / "Be Still"
Today's Friday Five (assigned by Rev. Songbird) are especially appropriate for me this week. Between my tinnitus, and the steroids I'm currently taking to resolve it (as detailed in this entry on Jonah 365), I haven't had a full night's rest in a little over two weeks.
In brief, the assignment is to "List four ways you like to relax or give yourself a break. Then name a fifth, something you've never been able to do, a self-care dream."
In brief, the assignment is to "List four ways you like to relax or give yourself a break. Then name a fifth, something you've never been able to do, a self-care dream."
- The main way I relax is with the infamous boob tube. That being said, there are degrees:
- Full zombie mode. It barely matters what's on; I'll stare at the screen, mouth agape, for hours on end. Even pabulum like "Navy CIS" or "Criminal Minds". I don't even mute the commercials.
- Moderate zombie mode. I'm more discerning about what I watch - "quality shows" on network TV (e.g., "My Name Is Earl"), PBS programming, one of my many pre-owned movies, or the latest DVD in my Netflix queue.
- Engaged zombie mode. Still watching broadcast TV, sometimes a mix of "quality" and pabulum, but I mute the sound during commercials and read a magazine (e.g., Shambhala Sun or Oxford American).
- Read a book, sometimes with music playing in the background, sometimes not. I mostly read during my lunch hour at work; I'm currently reading James Elroy's The Black Dahlia.
- Listen to music. Considering the size of my music collection (LP, tape, minidisk,CD, and now iPod), not as often as you might think.
- Lay on the couch with my favorite feline companion asleep on my lap.
- I have had different levels of massage – both chair and full – with very positive results. However, my last massage was almost a year ago. My dream form of relaxation, then, would be to get a massage more often.
W-I-P: Prayer Flags
Continuation of the poem-in-progress described here, and begun here.
As a special treat, here's a picture of the holograph of the first two pages (actual size ˜3.25" - 5.5" per page); click on the image to see a PDF of the first four pages, plus "Grocery List" (published on the Jonah 365 site).
In this current image, you see the beginning of the poem on the verso (left) and some notes on the recto (right).
II.
Southeast wind sails from the Gulf of Mexico
brings fresh rain
to the ancient hills.
From this sacred mountain
I see the white buffalo dance
I see the enemy run in confusion
I see our people gathered in peace
I offer thanks to the sky
to the clouds and the sun.
The yellow morning sun.
I drive a stake
in the side of the mountain
I cut a lock of my hair
and tie it to the stake
with a golden streamer
The stake is on the southeast side of the hill
to greet the morning
but the wind
delivers my prayer to the northwest
where the ancestors dwell.
In this current image, you see the beginning of the poem on the verso (left) and some notes on the recto (right).
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Catch Up on Project 365
Cross-post from Jonah 365
Invoking a poet/author/creator's right to change his/her mind, I've decided to play catch up for the first 17 days of this year, and to up-date existing entry titles accordingly.
Because I've post-dated the catch up entries, they have already scrolled to the archive page (see the "Older Posts") link at the bottom of the Jonah 365 page. The new entries are titled "1/365 - 10/365" and "11/365 - 17/365".
Invoking a poet/author/creator's right to change his/her mind, I've decided to play catch up for the first 17 days of this year, and to up-date existing entry titles accordingly.
Because I've post-dated the catch up entries, they have already scrolled to the archive page (see the "Older Posts") link at the bottom of the Jonah 365 page. The new entries are titled "1/365 - 10/365" and "11/365 - 17/365".
Prayer Flags - work in progress
Continuation of poem in progress as described below
I.
Enter the cave of the east wind
where shadows consume remorse.
Solstice flames flicker
and pictographs hunt.
Honor the stout heart,
the limbs and sinews,
that provided a good hunt:
"Your heart is my heart;
your blood is my blood;
your flesh will feed a proud people;
your spirit provides strength
for our clan."
My prayer is red,
the blood red of
the setting sun.
Other shadows flicker,
of my own birth
under a gold suburban sun.
Some shadows are vague,
diffuse at the edges,
almost forgotten.
Others still are haunted
and seem to dog my steps.
I.
Enter the cave of the east wind
where shadows consume remorse.
Solstice flames flicker
and pictographs hunt.
Honor the stout heart,
the limbs and sinews,
that provided a good hunt:
"Your heart is my heart;
your blood is my blood;
your flesh will feed a proud people;
your spirit provides strength
for our clan."
My prayer is red,
the blood red of
the setting sun.
Other shadows flicker,
of my own birth
under a gold suburban sun.
Some shadows are vague,
diffuse at the edges,
almost forgotten.
Others still are haunted
and seem to dog my steps.
Idée d'jour
Imagine a world in which generations of human beings come to believe that certain films were made by God or that specific software was coded by him. Imagine a future in which millions of our descendants murder each other over rival interpretations of Star Wars or Windows 98. Could anything — anything — be more ridiculous? And yet, this would be no more ridiculous than the world we are living in.
– Sam Harris, author (1967- )
Mr. Harris is such a virulent atheist, he makes Richard Dawkins look like a piker. Nevertheless, I'm amused by the thought of religious wars based on rival interpretations of Windows 98 (don't get me started on Windows vs. Apple or UNIX vs. DOS).
– Sam Harris, author (1967- )
Mr. Harris is such a virulent atheist, he makes Richard Dawkins look like a piker. Nevertheless, I'm amused by the thought of religious wars based on rival interpretations of Windows 98 (don't get me started on Windows vs. Apple or UNIX vs. DOS).
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Military judge applied double standard
The following is an editorial written by my brother, Dave, which appeared in the Austin American-Statesman (Austin, TX) on Tuesday, January 23. His comment follows an editorial published in the Monday edition of the paper which basically refers to Lt. Watada as a traitor.
On January 17th, Lt. Col. John Head ruled on a motion in the court martial of Lt. Ehren Watada. Watada refused deployment to Iraq on the grounds that the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) requires military personnel to refuse illegal orders. Watada’s attorneys intended to argue that since the invasion of Iraq is a crime under international law and the UN Charter, Watada was carrying out his duty to refuse an illegal order. Judge Head ruled that "whether the war is lawful" is a political question that cannot be decided by a military court.
In 1945, when the US-led Nuremberg Tribunal began, the jurists turned first to the invasion of Poland by Germany in 1939. The Tribunal found an invasion based on allegations of a threat posed at some future time to be a war crime. This ruling provided the legal foundation for subsequent prosecution and conviction of German officers and officials whose defense was "I was only following orders". Rejection of the defense by the Tribunal led to the requirement that US military personnel follow only lawful orders.
The Nuremberg ruling established the concept of preventive war, as contrasted with preemptive war. The UN Charter makes clear that preemptive war, one in which the threat by another country is clear and immediate, is within the rights of a nation. Preventive war is not.
Lt. Col. Head’s ruling, denying Lt. Watada the ability to lodge his defense on grounds that it is not a matter for a military court, flies in the face of the critical precedents established by the Nuremberg Tribunal; itself a military court.
Another Army Lieutenant stood trial before a military court 36 years ago. Charged with 6 counts of murdering civilians at the massacre in the village of My Lai, Lt. William Calley offered the defense that he had "just been following orders". That court martial rejected his defense, ruling in accordance with UCMJ provisions.
It is clear the Army applied a double standard in the case of Lt. Watada. The invasion of Iraq has not come before an international court. However legal experts from around the world and former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan have condemned it as illegal. Clearly, Lt. Watada had a sound basis for his sincere belief that to follow his deployment orders would be an act in furtherance of a war crime. That the court has denied him the right to argue his innocence at his February 5th court martial on that basis is a travesty of justice, makes a mockery of the rule of law and places all US service personnel at great legal risk.
Lt. Watada did what he has sworn to do and now faces the wrath of the US Army for so doing.
Dave C—
USMC 1967-71
On January 17th, Lt. Col. John Head ruled on a motion in the court martial of Lt. Ehren Watada. Watada refused deployment to Iraq on the grounds that the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) requires military personnel to refuse illegal orders. Watada’s attorneys intended to argue that since the invasion of Iraq is a crime under international law and the UN Charter, Watada was carrying out his duty to refuse an illegal order. Judge Head ruled that "whether the war is lawful" is a political question that cannot be decided by a military court.
In 1945, when the US-led Nuremberg Tribunal began, the jurists turned first to the invasion of Poland by Germany in 1939. The Tribunal found an invasion based on allegations of a threat posed at some future time to be a war crime. This ruling provided the legal foundation for subsequent prosecution and conviction of German officers and officials whose defense was "I was only following orders". Rejection of the defense by the Tribunal led to the requirement that US military personnel follow only lawful orders.
The Nuremberg ruling established the concept of preventive war, as contrasted with preemptive war. The UN Charter makes clear that preemptive war, one in which the threat by another country is clear and immediate, is within the rights of a nation. Preventive war is not.
Lt. Col. Head’s ruling, denying Lt. Watada the ability to lodge his defense on grounds that it is not a matter for a military court, flies in the face of the critical precedents established by the Nuremberg Tribunal; itself a military court.
Another Army Lieutenant stood trial before a military court 36 years ago. Charged with 6 counts of murdering civilians at the massacre in the village of My Lai, Lt. William Calley offered the defense that he had "just been following orders". That court martial rejected his defense, ruling in accordance with UCMJ provisions.
It is clear the Army applied a double standard in the case of Lt. Watada. The invasion of Iraq has not come before an international court. However legal experts from around the world and former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan have condemned it as illegal. Clearly, Lt. Watada had a sound basis for his sincere belief that to follow his deployment orders would be an act in furtherance of a war crime. That the court has denied him the right to argue his innocence at his February 5th court martial on that basis is a travesty of justice, makes a mockery of the rule of law and places all US service personnel at great legal risk.
Lt. Watada did what he has sworn to do and now faces the wrath of the US Army for so doing.
Dave C—
USMC 1967-71
Idée d’jour
The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity.
– Ludwig Wittgenstein
From this time forward I make you hear new things, hidden things you have not known.
– Isaiah 48:1-11
– Ludwig Wittgenstein
From this time forward I make you hear new things, hidden things you have not known.
– Isaiah 48:1-11
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Poem Idea
You lose it if you talk about it. – Ernest Hemingway
This idea began with Tibetan Prayer Flags. One of the hidden benefits to subscribing to a magazine is your information is typically sold to what I call "the sucker list". One may write the magazine and request that your name and address not be sold to any lists, but many people don't know that. I suspect I got on the sucker list for people who are interested in Buddhism because I subscribe to Shambhala Sun. Or, I got on the sucker list because I ordered a Tibetan singing bowl.
Prayer Flags shown stretched between a bulletin board and my window, behind my desk. The flags are above a vent, and are flapping as I type.
So, the idea is to combine the image of prayer being carried on the wind with these colors and seasons of life (the directions also relate to Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, in that order).
This idea began with Tibetan Prayer Flags. One of the hidden benefits to subscribing to a magazine is your information is typically sold to what I call "the sucker list". One may write the magazine and request that your name and address not be sold to any lists, but many people don't know that. I suspect I got on the sucker list for people who are interested in Buddhism because I subscribe to Shambhala Sun. Or, I got on the sucker list because I ordered a Tibetan singing bowl.
Sure, it makes sense, in a way. If I'm interested enough in Buddhism to subscribe to this magazine, I might be interested in other magazines, products, or issues associated with Buddhism. In a perverse way, it's comforting to be aware that there are as many tchotchkes being offered to Buddhists as there are to Christians. Some of those trinkets are of questionable taste, or (at least) are the definition of "conspicuous consumption". A $500 Buddha head - almost as big as one of the statues destroyed by the Taliban in Afghanistan - for your garden?
But I digress.
The Prayer Flags were included with an appeal to support the International Campaign for Tibet. A blurb in
the letter mentioned that, in Tibetan Buddhist tradition, practitioners believe that prayers invoked with these flags would be carried on the wind.
I liked the idea of prayers being carried on the wind. Where some
Rev Gals might say "That'll Preach", I thought: "There's a poem in that."
Prayer Flags shown stretched between a bulletin board and my window, behind my desk. The flags are above a vent, and are flapping as I type.These flags are about an inch square. There are five flags, one color each - blue, ivory, red, green and gold. I suspect those colors have some significance, but I don't know what it is.
But - just to demonstrate how my mind leaps around - those colors reminded me of Cheyenne cosmology. As I related last year, in the Cheyenne system, they observe what we might call "cross-quarter" directions. And each direction is associated with a different color and time of life, thus:- NE = Red = Birth
- SE = Yellow = Youth
- SW = Black = Adult
- SE = White = Old Age / Sage
So, the idea is to combine the image of prayer being carried on the wind with these colors and seasons of life (the directions also relate to Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, in that order).
Hopefully, I haven't built this scheme up to much in my imagination. The bigger an idea for a poem gets in my "vision", the more likely the
thing won't get written (or, at least, completed).
Enter the cave of the east wind
where shadows consume remorse.
Solstice flames flicker
and pictographs hunt.
My Peculiar Aristocratic Name
His Eminence the Very Lord Jonah the Weary of Chalmondley St Peasoup
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title
Also featured at: Songbird
Amazing how well the form knows me, considering it only asks two questions (name and gender).
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title
Also featured at: Songbird
Amazing how well the form knows me, considering it only asks two questions (name and gender).
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Idée d’jour
Let [God] be only that [God] is, and make [God] no otherwise. Seek no further in [God] but subtlety of wit.
— from The Cloud of Unknowing
— from The Cloud of Unknowing
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Padre Played Guitar
The prophetic fingers of his right hand
catch the edge of each string
the precise tip of each finger
pulls the string true.
His wrist is a metronome
slowly gliding
back and forth
across the six strings.
His geometric left hand finds
the traditional forms:
right angle, triangle, straight line.
Line segment. Parallelogram.
These fingers step through the scale
to reveal the tune hidden
in the square grid.
His smoke-cured voice weaves the wire
where each note and word hangs.
The room is warm as whiskey
and I draw close to the tune.
I lean my head into the circle of notes.
Our voices wind together.
As padre plays guitar.
Padre's birthday was January 5; he would have been 78.
catch the edge of each string
the precise tip of each finger
pulls the string true.
His wrist is a metronome
slowly gliding
back and forth
across the six strings.
His geometric left hand finds
the traditional forms:
right angle, triangle, straight line.
Line segment. Parallelogram.
These fingers step through the scale
to reveal the tune hidden
in the square grid.
His smoke-cured voice weaves the wire
where each note and word hangs.
The room is warm as whiskey
and I draw close to the tune.
I lean my head into the circle of notes.
Our voices wind together.
As padre plays guitar.
Padre's birthday was January 5; he would have been 78.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Friday Five: Basic W's
Suggested by Reverend Mother
who brought the asparagus
who stole the cheese
who wavered in ecstasy
who dreamed snow worship
who spoke for Venus, and knelt for mercy
what was the harbinger
what was the ether
what dreamed the spaceship
what breathed ice and heartbeats
what was I thinking
where did I sleep in my dreams
where did I lay my glasses
where does the hart transgress
where is Pluto and his lover
where did I dream you
when was it possible
when she was seeing Alturas
when our foibles were naked before G-d
when the bed unfolds to great us
when it's five til midnight
why was I dreaming of you
why were you preaching Amos
why were you dancing
why do words spring into fireworks
why is why is why
how can I speak of this
how can I reveal hidden knowledge
how are the turnips and asparagus
how do you sleep how do I sleep without you
how do you do
?
Post 1762
who brought the asparagus
who stole the cheese
who wavered in ecstasy
who dreamed snow worship
who spoke for Venus, and knelt for mercy
what was the harbinger
what was the ether
what dreamed the spaceship
what breathed ice and heartbeats
what was I thinking
where did I sleep in my dreams
where did I lay my glasses
where does the hart transgress
where is Pluto and his lover
where did I dream you
when was it possible
when she was seeing Alturas
when our foibles were naked before G-d
when the bed unfolds to great us
when it's five til midnight
why was I dreaming of you
why were you preaching Amos
why were you dancing
why do words spring into fireworks
why is why is why
how can I speak of this
how can I reveal hidden knowledge
how are the turnips and asparagus
how do you sleep how do I sleep without you
how do you do
?
Post 1762
Blogroll Updated
I've made some minor changes to the blogroll in the sidebar.
I've reluctantly deleted the link to Ms. Candide's space ("F*r*l", aka "One For the Books"). I hope her choice to end her on-line presence is temporary, and will restore the link when her sabbatical is complete.
I've added La Pajaro, the space Birdie Jaworski recently started to record personal stories (in contrast to her Avon-related blog, Beauty Dish). I also recommend Birdie's poetry page, Bird Poems; I especially like "A Treatise on My Cowardice", posted January 6.
Finally, I've started my own subsidiary site (using the new, improved version of Blogger), titled "Jonah 365". This is part of a meme called "Project 365", where people commit to post an image every day. It seems an outgrowth of an idea originated at Photojojo, where the idea is to post a digital image; but a number of people have expanded the meme to include verbal descriptions. My first two entries, 1/347 and 2/347 are both verbal.
I've started this as a separate blog primarily to test the new version of Blogger. Additionally, my entries are likely to be even more radically quotidian than what I normally post here at "Love During Wartime," and therefore may not be of interest to as broad an audience.
So there's a link for Jonah 365 there in the sidebar. Click at will.Idée d'jour
When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realized that the Lord doesn't work that way, so I stole one and asked for forgiveness.
— Emo Philips, comedian (1956- )
— Emo Philips, comedian (1956- )
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Brother Dave
My brother, Dave, is six years older than me. It amuses me to call him "Brother Dave" because we both remember LPs Padre owned by a comedian of the same same.
Brother Dave Gardner came to national attention in 1959 through the Tonight Show with Jack Parr (reportedly appearing on that program over 70 times). I imagine Padre bought the LPs because of those appearances. I believe Padre owned only two Brother Dave albums.
Brother Dave was an ordained Baptist minister, a drummer, and a singer. He's best remembered as a Southern comedian, similar to Andy Griffith. A modern comparison might be Dave Barry.
My brother remembers a racist element to Brother Dave's routines; the Wikipedia article I link above mentions this, as do a number of reviews at Amazon. I do not remember this aspect of his humor. I have not heard any of his routines since I left home for college, almost thirty years ago.
I do remember some one liners. For example: "Fear not, because 'not' ain't something to fear anyhow. Just remember, 'not' spelled backwards is 'ton.' Now, that's a heavy thought, ain't it?"
Then there's this musical snippet: "From this valley they say you are going / Do not hasten to bid me adieu / Just remember the Red River Valley / And the cowboy who tore half in two."
He did a routine about Daniel's time in the lion's den which I found quite amusing when I was a pre-teen. I still remember the section where Nebacaneezer is testing his soothsayers — not only does he want them to interpret his dream, he wants them to tell him what he dreamed.
None of the soothsayers can meet this challenge, so Nebacaneezer calls Daniel from the lion's den. Daniel claims he knows the dream, and starts spinning a fantastic tale (with some mild sexual content, I think). "Neb" says, "Oh, it was nothing like that," and proceeds to tell Daniel the whole dream. Daniel correctly interprets the dream, and "Neb" releases him from prison.
I also remember Brother Dave Gardner's singing; his voice was a pleasant baritone. The songs I remember in particular (aside from parodic snippet above) are "Is It True What They Say About Dixie?" and "Smoke That Cigarette". I recently learned the latter song was written by Merle Travis.
Happily, my brother doesn't mind being associated with this comedian. Or, at least, he doesn't object to my cock-eyed sense of humor.
Brother Dave Gardner came to national attention in 1959 through the Tonight Show with Jack Parr (reportedly appearing on that program over 70 times). I imagine Padre bought the LPs because of those appearances. I believe Padre owned only two Brother Dave albums.
Brother Dave was an ordained Baptist minister, a drummer, and a singer. He's best remembered as a Southern comedian, similar to Andy Griffith. A modern comparison might be Dave Barry.
My brother remembers a racist element to Brother Dave's routines; the Wikipedia article I link above mentions this, as do a number of reviews at Amazon. I do not remember this aspect of his humor. I have not heard any of his routines since I left home for college, almost thirty years ago.
I do remember some one liners. For example: "Fear not, because 'not' ain't something to fear anyhow. Just remember, 'not' spelled backwards is 'ton.' Now, that's a heavy thought, ain't it?"
Then there's this musical snippet: "From this valley they say you are going / Do not hasten to bid me adieu / Just remember the Red River Valley / And the cowboy who tore half in two."
He did a routine about Daniel's time in the lion's den which I found quite amusing when I was a pre-teen. I still remember the section where Nebacaneezer is testing his soothsayers — not only does he want them to interpret his dream, he wants them to tell him what he dreamed.
None of the soothsayers can meet this challenge, so Nebacaneezer calls Daniel from the lion's den. Daniel claims he knows the dream, and starts spinning a fantastic tale (with some mild sexual content, I think). "Neb" says, "Oh, it was nothing like that," and proceeds to tell Daniel the whole dream. Daniel correctly interprets the dream, and "Neb" releases him from prison.
I also remember Brother Dave Gardner's singing; his voice was a pleasant baritone. The songs I remember in particular (aside from parodic snippet above) are "Is It True What They Say About Dixie?" and "Smoke That Cigarette". I recently learned the latter song was written by Merle Travis.
Happily, my brother doesn't mind being associated with this comedian. Or, at least, he doesn't object to my cock-eyed sense of humor.
An Open Letter to Senators Coburn & Inhoffe
I write in support of Senator Edward Kennedy's bill to withhold funding for additional troop deployments to Iraq prior to Congressional approval.
Two bills on this issue have received attention in the media, Sen. Kennedy's, and a non-binding "no confidence" resolution put forward by Sen. Henry Reid. Of these two, I believe Senator Kennedy's comes closest to taking the necessary action.
Senator Kennedy's bill enforces Congressional power of the purse. It is a bill with practical effect, unlike a non-binding resolution. I believe Senate time is best used debating bills such as Sen. Kennedy's, rather than debating non-binding resolutions.
I urge you to support Senator Kennedy's bill, and to vote "yes" when it comes to the floor.
[Signed]
Note: A seperate copy of this letter will be sent to each senator
Send a message to Senator Reid
Two bills on this issue have received attention in the media, Sen. Kennedy's, and a non-binding "no confidence" resolution put forward by Sen. Henry Reid. Of these two, I believe Senator Kennedy's comes closest to taking the necessary action.
Senator Kennedy's bill enforces Congressional power of the purse. It is a bill with practical effect, unlike a non-binding resolution. I believe Senate time is best used debating bills such as Sen. Kennedy's, rather than debating non-binding resolutions.
I urge you to support Senator Kennedy's bill, and to vote "yes" when it comes to the floor.
[Signed]
Note: A seperate copy of this letter will be sent to each senator
Send a message to Senator Reid
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
More Recommended Reading
- Active Military Personnel Appeal for Redress
This event took place yesterday afternoon (Jan. 16) in Washington, DC. Although the article claims the action is unprecedented, a similar appeal for redress was filed by active military personnel during the early 1970s. A few months following the presentation of that appeal, Congress cut funding for the Viet Nam War, effectively ending U.S. involvement in that conflict.
Last week, around the same time as Pres. B*sh's speech, Democratic leaders promised to present a bill that would be a de facto "no confidence" vote for the proposed "surge". While there may be just enough Republicans available to help pass such a bill, it would be barely worth the paper it would be written on, or the hours Senators will make grand standing speeches for and against.
Much better to cut the purse strings. That's the power the Constitution gives the Congress, and it's well past time that Congress exercise that power. I am not “soft on defense”; I accept that military force may (on rare occasions) be a necessary evil. I am opposed to the current conflict. I find little purpose in sending over 2,000 additional troops to Iraq as potential cannon fodder.
The proper cannon fodder, unfortunately, are men in the current administration who did their best to avoid that role in the 60s and 70s. - Real Live Preacher linked to an article in the Christian Century which addresses the spiritual issue of the U.S. response to 9/11.
The "what if" scenario of the essay's first half is admittedly naïve. While I argued yesterday for non-violence on an individual level, I recognize it is unrealistic to expect non-violence at the national level. If B*sh had really called for a non-violent response to 9/11, it's safe to say the nation would have been up in arms. I suspect more than a extreme fringe would have called for impeachment.
The second half of the essay makes the point that 9/11 was, in the view of victims of U.S. oppression and occupation, "... were nothing other than the continuation of the everyday war of which they had been the victims for so long." It also makes the point that European nations have endured this sort of terrorism for decades. This second point was also well made by the current Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, in his book Writings in the Dust.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Is There Hope? (Pt. 2)
In the comments on my posting regarding the "surge", one person (the mother of three boys) asks: "What can we do to foster some optimism in our children?" I have rephrased this question as "Is there hope?", and answered in terms of the current situation and realities as I understand them in part one.
Here, I intend to address the question of hope in a larger sense.
One question parents hope their children never ask - or have to ask - is "Why do nations go to war?" This is supposedly a very difficult question to answer. In the case of our assault on Iraq and Afganistan, however, I think a child could understand the answer. It's at least as old as Hebrew scripture: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
Human beings are animals, and part of our animal nature is to strike back when someone hits us. The desire for revenge is ancient. In fact, the Torah instruction of equivalent retribution (no more than an eye for an eye) supplants an older model of disproportionate retribution — both eyes for one eye; the death of a family in retribution for a single death.
I believe one thing that distinguishes humans from other animals is the ability to dream of something better, and to strive toward that something better. I know, for example that my blog friend's 12 year-old son is a fan of Star Trek, which imagines a fairly utopian future on earth.
While that utopian future may be unlikely, there is a hope of making it more likely. And it begins with your son.
It begins with everyone's child, and every adult, in the world.
It begins with the roots of war. The roots of war begin in each human heart. The majority of American people initially supported the invasion of Iraq, fundamentally, because they were fearful or sought vengence in retribution for 9/11/01.
So long as we allow those emotions power in our hearts, politicians (and others) will use them to sway us. They will use these ancient animal impulses as excuses for their lies, which lead the general populace to cry for war.
I recognize this is no simple thing I am asking of my friend's son. I am painfully aware of how often I seek revenge, at least on a verbal level. This is profoundly hard work, harder than even Mr. B*sh can imagine.
The January issue of Shambhala Sun has a pair of articles that I recommend to my friend, and others who seek a ray of hope. The first concerns the founding of the Dalai Lama Center for Peace and Education in Vancouver, and includes an interview with the Dalai Lama.
The current Dalai Lama believes the best hope for the future is to teach young people compassion. The example he uses is the compassion of a mother for her child. This compassion is similar to compassion you might have for others in your family. At minimum, you would hope no harm would come to that person; at most, you would hope that person would achieve health, contentment, and security.
The Dalai Lama suggests that it is humanly possible to enlarge this circle of compassion beyond one's family or a small circle of friends. He suggests the best hope for humanity and the world is for each human to view all of creation as deserving of this compassion.
If one has this compassion, even at the minimal level of hoping no harm would come to another creature, non-violence would be the logical result. If you are sincere in your desire that no harm come to another, then you will seek to avoid being the agent of any type of harm.
The second article, by Barry Boyce, concerns an experimental program in the New York City schools using contemplative practice. This program teaches breathing and self-awareness techniques without promoting Buddhist doctrines. The results, to date, have been positive: improved test scores, and non-violent conflict resolution.
I sincerly believe that, if there is hope, it resides in your son's ability to dream of a better future. It resides in the strength he finds by turning the other cheek when someone else strikes him or insults him. It resides in your compassionate heart, in the training you give your sons for compassion. It resides in my ability to seek compassion within myself and to perceive that all creation deserves that same compassion.
There may be little hope for the current situation in Iraq. What hope there is for the future resides in our ability to train ourselves for compassion and to practice it in every aspect of our lives.Is There Hope? (Pt. One)
My recent entry on the "surge" has generated at least four comments, which is a high point in the recent history of this blog.
First, allow me to pull some links from the comments to the front page, so people may have easier access to them. These links come courtesy of Brother Dave (who is my blood brother):
First, allow me to pull some links from the comments to the front page, so people may have easier access to them. These links come courtesy of Brother Dave (who is my blood brother):
For those willing to put their time, money, or more at stake to support those service personnel who ARE resisting this illegal war, here are a few pointers.As Brother Dave has noted, there are serious consequences to refusing to serve, or desertion, which one commenter suggested. In addition to supporting those who have made this choice, I would suggest more fundamental actions.
- Mark Wilkerson is a man I know who applied for CO status, was denied and is now serving time for his refusal to go to Iraq. You can learn about Mark at http://markwilkerson.wordpress.com/
- Then there is Ron Cantu, serving in Iraq and speaking out with bravery, honesty and resolve: If you want to help Lt. Watada in his battle to speak truth about this war crime being committed in your and my name, go here: http://www.thankyoult.org/
- Finally, for more information about the resistance by current and former service personnel, look to Iraq Veterans Against the War, the beloved but never planned or even imagined child of my old organization, Viet Nam Veterans Against the War: www.vvaw.org
First, discourage people from joining the military. Second, write your representative and ask them to over-turn the portion of the No Child Left Behind Act which requires schools to turn over names of graduating seniors to military recruiters. Additionally, make parents aware that they must file a form to avoid having their child contacted by a military recruiter.
Third, let your representative know (a mailed or faxed letter is best) that you oppose funding for this troop increase. The Constitution gives the Congress the power of the purse in military matters exactly for this reason: to prevent Commanders in Chief from continuing on an ill-advised, ill-conceived course.
A number of congressional leaders have expressed a reluctance to take this step, because it makes it appear that they are weak on defense or don't support the troops currently on the ground. I'll admit these are potential political consequences to a move to cut military funding. But a person who takes his/her representative responsibilities seriously must recognize those times when it is better to be right than re-elected (to paraphrase Barry Goldwater).
Another commentator asks, first, whether it's likely her 12 year-old son will be drafted in six years; and, second, how she can offer her son some hope.
I will address the question of hope in the part two. In today's political climate, the draft is likely to be as much of a "third rail" as Social Security, but if America's current direction remains unchanged, it seems unrealistic to think a draft is not at least possible. Again, I urge people to make their representatives aware of their opinions concerning a draft - or some form of required national service (as Sen. Kerry suggested in the '04 campaign).
As for the commentator's particular son, I urge that he build solid creditionals as a Conscientious Objector now. Given the spiritual path this commenter seems to be on, I suspect she and her sons will find the Quakers the most felicitous of the groups who have a history of opposing all armed conflicts (even so-called "Just Wars").
When I consider the Iraq situation in particular, I feel hopeless. The miscalculations and mistakes made up to this point seem to have broken the country beyond repair. If success is to be measured by a sound goverment with a reasonable level of security, and the United States truly intends to be resposible for that goal, it seems to me to be a very long way off.
A military solution seems to me impractical, at best. The most realistic assessment of the situation on the ground seems to be that the U.S. provided the flint for a simmering civil war that has been moderately suppressed since the time of the Ottoman Empire. Whether the U.S. stays another year or withdraws immediately seems academic as far that civil war is concerned.
A diplomatic solution might be possible, if someone other than B*sh and the New American Century cronies were not still in power. Sadly, it's unlikely that the Iraqis can afford to wait two years for new American leadership.
I suspect there is no "best-case scenario", as things currently stand. I suspect all Americans will bear the responsibility and (possibly) guilt for allowing this ill-advised, ill-conceived, poorly executed war to begin in the first place.Idée d’jour
I would rather try to persuade a man to go along, because once I have persuaded him he will stick. If I scare him, he will stay just as long as he is scared, and then he is gone.
— Dwight D. Eisenhower, U.S. general and 34th president (1890-1969)
— Dwight D. Eisenhower, U.S. general and 34th president (1890-1969)
Friday, January 12, 2007
Idée d’jour
An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly understood; an inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.
— G.K. Chesterton
— G.K. Chesterton
Thursday, January 11, 2007
The Surge
When Prez B*sh addressed the nation last night, I chose not to listen. As I've mentioned before, the mere sound of his voice raises my blood pressure. However, I've learned I can tolerate reading his speech after the fact.
In brief, the president's primary tactic is increased troop strength. Based on estimates leaked prior to the speech, this increase qualifies as "too little, too late". The president correctly notes that previous efforts to secure sectors of Iraq have failed because of unsuccessful attempts to hold those sectors. As one commander put it last year, our military has been playing "whack a mole" with the "insurgents".
There's a particular element of this tactic that seems especially odd to me: the fact that the targets are being announced. Baghdad has been mentioned as a probable target for at least the past two weeks. Last night, the president confirmed Baghdad as a target, and also mentioned Anbar Province.
Now, the president seems to think these two targets are obvious. But is it wise to announce them so broadly so far in advance? The president has been reluctant to set a firm withdrawal date or even a timeline for withdrawal, based on the logic that the enemy would use this knowledge to their advantage. I would think the same logic applies to the question of military targets.
The president claims to have listened to opinions from a broad range of people, including generals on the ground in Iraq, and the bipartisan Iraq Study Group. The plan he has put forward suggests he may have listened, but chose to ignore most of their recommendations. The one item he restated from the Iraq Study Group is the obvious conclusion that this is no magic bullet that will resolve the situation.
The magic bullet would be a time machine. With a time machine, we could choose not to invade Iraq in the first place. The invasion was clearly a flat-footed miscalculation from the get-go.
If invasion were inevitable for whatever reason, then perhaps the time machine would allow us to conduct the invasion better. More troops, for example. Securing basic necessities in major cities for example.
Unfortunately, those opportunities are past us. And the person who made the faulty decisions which have lead us to this point is still the Decider. Past experience suggests these new decisions will be as successful as the Decider's past decisions.
This "surge" – or whatever term is preferred by the president and his minions – seems to me to be analogous to transfusing blood into a dying patient. Or rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Idée d’jour
Man is the religious animal. He is the only religious animal that has the true religion — several of them. He is the only animal that loves his neighbor as himself and cuts his throat if his theology isn't straight.
– Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
– Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)
Friday, January 05, 2007
Friday Five: Birthday, Redux
Recycled theme, with new questions, courtesy Reverend Mother.
- Favorite way to celebrate your birthday
Favorite to date was the concert/party my friends and I had for my 50th, in 2005. - Do you share your birthday with someone famous?
Scarlett Johansson, Hoagy Carmichael, Mariel Hemingway, and others. I'm most honored to share the date with Carmichael, who wrote "Stardust" (among many other fine popular songs) and appeared in the movie To Have and Have Not - Milestone birthdays:
- just like any other birthday – they're just numbers, people.
- a good opportunity to look back/take stock
- enjoy the black balloons – I'll be hiding under a pile of coats until the day is over
- some combination of the above, or something else entirely.
A bit of each, actually. Though I wore black on my 50th b'day, the office did not decorate my work area in the traditional teasing fashion. - "Happy birthday, dear... Customer..."
Have you ever been sung to in a restaurant? Fun or cringe-worthy?
I can't recall that I have been sung to. If so, it was a long, long time ago. I really don't like the silly variants of the birthday song some restaurants have. I object to hearing it even as a fellow customer.
A Mexican restaurant in Norman would comp your meal on your birthday. That was a tradition I did appreciate! - Tell me one advantage and one disadvantage about your particular birthday, or
something you like/dislike about your birthday.
Regular readers of this space know I've been haunted by the unfortunate coincidence that Pres. Kennedy was assinated on my birthday (11/22), so that's a disadvantage.
I was born on the "cusp" of the astrological signs Sagitarius and Scorpio (though some astrology purists have told me there's no such thing as "cusp"). I like to think I combine the best qualities of the Archer and the Scorpion — that my sting has a sure aim.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
The Hanging
Early last Friday evening, local time, a former head of state was hanged in Iraq. Although the hanging was initially a relatively private affair – with only a few attending – a video soon became available via the Internet.
The former head of state, Saddam Hussein, was unquestionably a despotic dictator. If one accepts the ancient concept of an eye for an eye, the man should have been killed several times over.
I personally oppose the death penalty, but that is a side issue.
So many elements of the execution seem profoundly wrong, or at least unusual, that it's hard to know where to begin. The first element that occurs to me is the fact that the execution occurred during a trial for a second offense. This seems highly irregular, at best.
The method of execution is also disturbing. Most American states view hanging as "cruel and unusual punishment", and opt for lethal injection or the electric chair. It may seem inappropriate to impose American sensibilities on Iraq, but I think it safe to assume many in our country assumed American values and sensibilities would be exported to Iraq along with American-style democracy.
The fact the trial took place in Iraq in the first place is also a curiousity. Past leaders who committed "crimes against humanity" have been tried on the world stage, in a court recognized by a majority of the world; for example, the Hague.
Performing this execution against the advice of the U.S. may make the Iraqi leaders appear independent, but it's difficult for me to recognize the Iraq government as anything but a puppet regime. An election held under the auspices of an occupying force is suspect, at best.
And how has the so-called government served its people? Has it built roads? Restored power? Provided reliable security? Without providing these and other basic needs, it's hard to recognize the current regime as legitimate.
The timing of the execution around a disputed Muslim holy day is also curious. Saturday, Iraqi time, was the day Sunni observed Eid al-Adha; Shia observe the day on Sunday. The Shia form the current majority in the current Iraq regime; therefore, performing the execution the morning before the holy day was not contrary to their understanding Islamic law. But performing the execution on the day Sunni consider holy might well be considered insulting by that "demonination".
While the B*sh White House may be only indirectly responsible for the execution, it seems one more mis-step in a policy that began which the epiq mis-step of invasion and has never recovered.Wednesday, January 03, 2007
What Can I Say?
What can I say?
I'm still here. I've been here all this time, checking in daily to see if anyone missed me.
Two people noted and commented on my week-long silence - Candide and Augustine. And Candide has closed shop; if you go to visit her former space (called "One For the Books" at your right), you'll be taken to a search page for hooded sweat shirts.
Dr. Omed has practically closed up shop.
What can I say?
I let the darkness pull me down. No excuse for it. Pretty much a conscious decision. As if plunging to the bottom of the pit was the best way to find light on the other side.
See, when it's dark, my words just echo in the ether. When it's dark, I'm just muttering to myself. When it's dark, every word I want to speak has been expressed better by someone else. When it's dark, I hardly matter.
What can I say?
This sense of uselessness and meaninglessness is its own form of ego. A period can be just as large as an exclamation point, in the imagination of its own heart.
The goal of speaking, yes, is conversation. To hear the echoes and responses and arguments from across the chasm. But here it's pixels on a screen, and the glaring lamp rarely speaks back. And the cave I sit in is a pale hermitage.
What can I say?
Just when I thought my words touched no one, one Little Bird mentioned how my words provided a sort of map for her. Just when I thought I'd lost any hint of light, her words of thanks provided a thin white rope.
What can I say?
I'm still here. I may be quiet again, now & again. But not forever. I have faith that if my words are honest and true, they are sure to touch - possibly help - someone.
One can never know for sure. I will keep walking. Keep singing. Keep lighting the fire. Keep praying.
Because I'm still here.
I'm still here. I've been here all this time, checking in daily to see if anyone missed me.
Two people noted and commented on my week-long silence - Candide and Augustine. And Candide has closed shop; if you go to visit her former space (called "One For the Books" at your right), you'll be taken to a search page for hooded sweat shirts.
Dr. Omed has practically closed up shop.
What can I say?
I let the darkness pull me down. No excuse for it. Pretty much a conscious decision. As if plunging to the bottom of the pit was the best way to find light on the other side.
See, when it's dark, my words just echo in the ether. When it's dark, I'm just muttering to myself. When it's dark, every word I want to speak has been expressed better by someone else. When it's dark, I hardly matter.
What can I say?
This sense of uselessness and meaninglessness is its own form of ego. A period can be just as large as an exclamation point, in the imagination of its own heart.
The goal of speaking, yes, is conversation. To hear the echoes and responses and arguments from across the chasm. But here it's pixels on a screen, and the glaring lamp rarely speaks back. And the cave I sit in is a pale hermitage.
What can I say?
Just when I thought my words touched no one, one Little Bird mentioned how my words provided a sort of map for her. Just when I thought I'd lost any hint of light, her words of thanks provided a thin white rope.
What can I say?
I'm still here. I may be quiet again, now & again. But not forever. I have faith that if my words are honest and true, they are sure to touch - possibly help - someone.
One can never know for sure. I will keep walking. Keep singing. Keep lighting the fire. Keep praying.
Because I'm still here.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Fourth Sunday of Advent
I've lost my breath.
I've lost my words.
I've lost my way.
I light the thin candle
sweep the dusty corners
search where shadows fall.
Can these eyes see light
in these dark times?
Greet the demon within
as a forgotten friend?
The dusty corners
the ego webs
the lonely shadows
the useless hands.
Wait at the door.
Catch my breath.
Forget my need for words.
Wait for air to spark flame.
Wait for shadows to unfold.
Wait for dust to settle
at the doorsill.
Search diligently
for cause
to rejoice.
"... what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it?
"And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin which I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents."
Luke 15:8-10
Thursday, December 21, 2006
The Man of Last Year
The man of last year
is an internal legend
a hero of suburban lawns
The man of last year
is watching the neon
and deciphering the new moon
The man of last year
is taking his pulse
wearing a second-hand fedora
The man of last year
is partially forgotten
he sees you with barren eyes
The man of last year
holds court in the royal recliner
for one small era longer
The man of last year
with his straw hair
and mercury mind
with his mirrored glasses
and clipped diction
with his thin long fingers
and his ruptured voice
The man of last year
is not looking for
a hold out
The man of last year
is already lost
in the almanac's idex
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Idée d’jour
After studying church history, I can see why people believe in hell. I just can't figure out why all Christians don't go there.
— anonymous seminarian, quoted in a Generous Orthodoxy, McLaren, Zondervan, 2004
— anonymous seminarian, quoted in a Generous Orthodoxy, McLaren, Zondervan, 2004
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Third Sunday of Advent
Luke 3:7-18
I do not look remarkable. My clothes are not shabby, but they were clearly bought at a second-hand shop. But you will remember me.
I do not look remarkable. My clothes are not shabby, but they were clearly bought at a second-hand shop. But you will remember me.
I am standing at the foot of small hill, on top of a short retaining wall. I am standing, to be exact, in front of Dale Hall, at the southwest corner of Lindsey and Asp.
It is hard to say whether I am speaking to the crowd that has gathered. It's entirely possible I would be speaking even if no one were in front of me. Judging by the size of the crowd, you might think I am shouting. But, as you draw closer, you can tell that I am speaking in a conversational tone:
"I cannot keep silent. The words burn within me. For I had a vision in the womb, before I was born: I saw all that was false in this world burned away; I saw the ax laid to the roots of a rotted tree. I saw the leaders brought low. I saw the poor man raised up.
"I cannot keep silent. The words burn within me. How did you come to know this is the acceptable time? What wind brought you to this place, ahead of the consuming fire? Can it be you are ready to turn your life upside down?
"I cannot keep silent. You, who wear your dress so short: it seems you are lonely; it seems you want to be held. Would you trade your body for comfort? Would you trade your soul for company?
"The words burn within me. You, who jeer at my words: you believe the world is defined by your five senses and your definition of order. Did you stew the cosmic soup? Can you define the moment the mitochondria volunteered its service? How can you be sure you have understood rightly?
"I cannot keep silent. I can tell you feel secure behind your wall of money. You feel justified by a rich house and a high paying job. I tell you, your money and your house will be nothing but ash in the time to come. God is a consuming fire, with no patience for falsehood, pretense, or mere things that pass away.
"The words burn within me. Do not think your church or synagogue will save you. You only speak the words once a week. You do not follow the path the words map for you. Do not be deluded: empty words will not save you from the time to come.
"I cannot keep silent. The words burn within me. For I saw the consuming fire when I was still in the womb."Friday, December 15, 2006
Idée d’jour
Your neighbor's vision is as true for him as your own vision is true for you.
— Miguel de Unamuno, writer and philosopher (1864-1936)
You are right from your side, and I am right from mine
We're both one too many mornings, and a thousand miles behind.
— Bob Dylan
— Miguel de Unamuno, writer and philosopher (1864-1936)
You are right from your side, and I am right from mine
We're both one too many mornings, and a thousand miles behind.
— Bob Dylan
Friday Five: Yuletide Favorites
Suggested by Songbird
- It's a Wonderful Life --Is it? Do you remember seeing it for the first time?
I first saw this movie on Public Television some time in the late 70s or early 80s, before it became a classic, and therefore worthy of the schlock treatment NBC has given it the past several years.
I do remember liking it the very first time I saw it. I haven't watched it for at least two years. I haven't bought the DVD, and I can't stand the current broadcast version - in which a 90 minute movie is extended to three hours. - Miracle on 34th Street-- old version or new ?
The original, black & white version.
- Do you have a favorite incarnation of Mr. Scrooge?
My introduction to this story was via Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. So, this is a sentimental favorite.
Among live action versions, I'm quite fond of Alastair Sim. - Why should it be a problem for an elf to be a dentist? I've been watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for years now, and I still don't get it.
Considering the fact that elves probably eat a lot of candy, an in-house dentist would seem quite desirable.
On the other hand, with a relatively limited labor force, management is justified in wanting all workers to do the job for which they were hired.
Given the Head Elf's extreme reaction, it's also possible he's no happier in his job than Hermey is. So he finds Hermey's non-conformism threatening. - Who's the scariest character in Christmas specials/movies?
I was frightened by Bumble the first time I saw Rudolph; this was the original airing, in 1964. I was 9 years old. The program was sponsored by GE, and I think some of the commercials included the characters from the show.
The scene was a classic cliff-hanger: it appeared that Bumble was going to eat Rudolph's mom and Clarrisa, then cut to commercial. That was pretty scary.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Idée d’jour
If you have the same ideas as everybody else but have them one week earlier than everyone else then you will be hailed as a visionary. But if you have them five years earlier you will be named a lunatic.
— Barry Jones, politician, author (1932- )
— Barry Jones, politician, author (1932- )
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
My Hypochondria
My hypochondria is getting a work-out today.
For example: Do you think I should be worried about my left arm being kind of tingly?
Or: What about this pain and swelling on the left side of my chest, just above my heart?
Maybe it started last Wednesday night. I went to a dinner at church immediately after work, got home around 7:30. Drank some Desert Sage Tea. Noticed my back was a little tight, but didn't think anything of it.
By the time I went to bed, my back hurt so badly, I could barely sleep.
When I woke up last Thursday morning, I was in such pain I could barely walk. Honest! It took five minutes to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom – normally a 30 second stroll.
I called in sick, which I very rarely do.
Thanks to a Thermapak ® and some over-the-counter muscle relaxant (primary ingredient: benedril), I was ambulatory on Friday and could return to work.
My back has loosened up considerably since then, though I'm aware of a low-level ache.
Now, regarding my heart, you should know I have a condition called paroxymal ventricle tachycardia &nash; meaning, one of the valves in my heart "sticks". Prior to diagnosis and meds, my heart literally skipped a beat. Maybe why I'm especially sensitive to waltzes and 3/4 time signatures.
This condition was diagnosed almost ten years ago, and a calcium-channel blocker was prescribed. I've been on that calcium-channel blocker ever since, and have not had significant heart problems since.
My script ran out on Monday. The story of why it took almost a week (I requested a refill last Wed) is almost too frustrating to relate. But I noticed the chest pain Monday evening.
Still hurt Tuesday morning. I noticed the swelling in the shower. Let's just say my bosom is lop-sided. The right side is flat; the other isn't.
Panic theory: the bad valve is sticking really badly, blood is backing up, and my heart is going to explode any moment.
Or, I've got that disease Dylan almost died of a few years ago – fluid build-up around the heart.
Calm theory: somehow, without realizing it, I compensated for the back ache and strained some muscles on that side of the chest.
You see, I'm well aware of my tendency to jump to the worst scenario when my health is involved. But I wait a few days – at least a week – before I call my doctor.
Oh yeah. That left-arm tingling thing? Pretty sure it's from a muscle group in my left shoulder.
And the good news is that I can (and will) get the refill of my calcium channel blocker on the way home. So, if the pain and swelling is somehow related to my heart, and the medication will help resolve it, I should be OK within a day or two.
Til then, my hypochondria is having a field day.
For example: Do you think I should be worried about my left arm being kind of tingly?
Or: What about this pain and swelling on the left side of my chest, just above my heart?
Maybe it started last Wednesday night. I went to a dinner at church immediately after work, got home around 7:30. Drank some Desert Sage Tea. Noticed my back was a little tight, but didn't think anything of it.
By the time I went to bed, my back hurt so badly, I could barely sleep.
When I woke up last Thursday morning, I was in such pain I could barely walk. Honest! It took five minutes to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom – normally a 30 second stroll.
I called in sick, which I very rarely do.
Thanks to a Thermapak ® and some over-the-counter muscle relaxant (primary ingredient: benedril), I was ambulatory on Friday and could return to work.
My back has loosened up considerably since then, though I'm aware of a low-level ache.
Now, regarding my heart, you should know I have a condition called paroxymal ventricle tachycardia &nash; meaning, one of the valves in my heart "sticks". Prior to diagnosis and meds, my heart literally skipped a beat. Maybe why I'm especially sensitive to waltzes and 3/4 time signatures.
This condition was diagnosed almost ten years ago, and a calcium-channel blocker was prescribed. I've been on that calcium-channel blocker ever since, and have not had significant heart problems since.
My script ran out on Monday. The story of why it took almost a week (I requested a refill last Wed) is almost too frustrating to relate. But I noticed the chest pain Monday evening.
Still hurt Tuesday morning. I noticed the swelling in the shower. Let's just say my bosom is lop-sided. The right side is flat; the other isn't.
Panic theory: the bad valve is sticking really badly, blood is backing up, and my heart is going to explode any moment.
Or, I've got that disease Dylan almost died of a few years ago – fluid build-up around the heart.
Calm theory: somehow, without realizing it, I compensated for the back ache and strained some muscles on that side of the chest.
You see, I'm well aware of my tendency to jump to the worst scenario when my health is involved. But I wait a few days – at least a week – before I call my doctor.
Oh yeah. That left-arm tingling thing? Pretty sure it's from a muscle group in my left shoulder.
And the good news is that I can (and will) get the refill of my calcium channel blocker on the way home. So, if the pain and swelling is somehow related to my heart, and the medication will help resolve it, I should be OK within a day or two.
Til then, my hypochondria is having a field day.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Virgin of Guadalupe
Blessed Mother, my chest aches:
right here, above my heart.
Will you press your lips here
and open
this secret eye?
Blessed Mother,
will you hold me,
wrap me in your scraps?
Wrap me in your rose blanket,
your wild blazing light?
Blessed Daughter,
child with child,
will you come to me?
Let me protect you,
build you a shelter
against desert cold.
Blessed Mother,
treasure this in your heart.
Today is the feast of the Virgin of Guadalupe.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Fun with Widgets
As with the "Bird-Day" graphic below, this childish drawing was created with a "widget" found on Birdie's new site. You'll find the smallish drawing pad in the right column of her site.
Draw a picture. Save it. Post the link in Birdie's comments. Tell her Jonah sent ya.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Idée d’jour
Men can read maps better than women. 'Cause only the male mind could conceive of one inch equaling a hundred miles.
— Roseanne Barr
— Roseanne Barr
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Second Sunday of Advent
God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground...
Baruch 5:1-9
Someone driving through Oklahoma on I-35 could be forgiven for believing it is basically flat, because few mountains – much less hills – are visible from the interstate. Oklahoma has what are known as old mountains. These are mountains that have been worn down by geological forces such as wind and rain, to the point that they seem no more than hills.
Baruch 5:1-9
Someone driving through Oklahoma on I-35 could be forgiven for believing it is basically flat, because few mountains – much less hills – are visible from the interstate. Oklahoma has what are known as old mountains. These are mountains that have been worn down by geological forces such as wind and rain, to the point that they seem no more than hills.
Yet, it's all a matter of perspective. I grew up in the relatively flat centrally located capital city. At least twice a year, my family would drive south on Highway 77, part of which ran through Turner Falls. Turner Falls was a park area which included a winding road through hillsides. This road did not have guard rails; as a young boy looking out the passenger window, I thought the car would go over the edge at any minute.
There are times I feel like the old mountains of Oklahoma. There are times when it seems the demands of the business world have worn me down. There are times when my personality and personal choices seem to have been washed away by a desire to “fit in” with a particular culture at a particular time. There are times when it seems the “real me” will fall over the edge at any minute.
The prophets Baruch and Isaiah seem to promise that God will make life a smooth path, easily navigable. The valleys will be filled up, and the mountains brought low. I think these verses may have more to do with my internal geography than actual valleys and mountains.
Where my ego has become puffed up and mountainous, it will be brought low. Where my gifts have been buried by social or internal pressures, they will be raised up. What is called for is a renewed perspective: that I seek to perceive this internal terrain from God's perspective, rather than my own or society's.
Prayer. Blessed are you, Lord God. Blessed are you, for you erode my pride and sustain my gifts. Blessed are you, seeing me fully and truly. Blessed are you for your indwelling Spirit. Blessed are you for the gift of Wisdom. Blessed are you that my eyes be cleansed to see with the clarity of your Spirit. I pray in your Holy Name. Amen.Idée d’jour
It doesn't matter how beautiful your theory is, it doesn't matter how smart you are. If it doesn't agree with experiment, it's wrong.
— Richard Feynman, physicist, Nobel laureate (1918-1988)
— Richard Feynman, physicist, Nobel laureate (1918-1988)
Friday, December 08, 2006
Friday Five: Christmas Songs
Courtesy Reverend Mother
- A favorite 'secular' Christmas song.
"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"; out of context, it is suitably "secular generic" - it extolls homey virtues of being with friends and family while ignoring any religious context for the holiday.
In the context of the movie in which it was introduced – Judy Garland sang it to Margaret O'Brien in Meet Me In St. Louis – it is more bittersweet. In the song, Judy's character is trying to reassure O'Brien's character that a move (from St. Louis to New York) would not affect their family and its traditions. - Christmas song that chokes you up (maybe even in spite of yourself — the cheesier the better)
"O Holy Night". Whether it is cheesy or not depends on the performance. The line "fall on your knees" tends to bring out the ham in most performers - including your correspondent. - Christmas song that makes you want to stuff your ears with chestnuts roasted on an open fire.
"Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer". "The Chipmunk Song" is pretty annoying and cloying, but "Grandma" takes the cake. If we truly cherished the "family values" extolled in "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" or "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting)", we would not find injury to a family member humorous. - The Twelve Days of Christmas: is there *any* redeeming value to that song? Discuss.
"Five golden rings" The one item on the list everybody remembers. I'm rather fond of the spurious notion that 12 days was an underground teaching tool for persecuted Roman Catholics.
If this song did not exist, the humorous e-mail which details the beloved's response to the gifts would not be nessary (it ends with the beloved threatening a restraining order). That would be a sad loss to folk art. - A favorite Christmas album
My family would buy a Firestone Christmas LP every year. We had at least 5. By the time I was a teen, I developed the tradition of stacking these LPs on the changer and decorating the tree while I listened.
I now buy a new Christmas CD every other year or so. One of my favorites remains John Fahey's The Christmas Album. Really nice arrangements that have helped me hear the songs in new ways. I've become especially fond of unique albums, such as Anonymous 4's Lady Mass. This one, focused on the Blessed Virgin, is especially appropriate for Advent, and you won't find a single "traditional" carol on it.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Idée d’jour
Suppose you have tried and failed again and again. You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call "failure" is not the falling down, but the staying down.
— Mary Pickford
— Mary Pickford
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Dame Julian, 1.Dec.06
Dame Julian, 1.Dec.06
The lady watches the snow melt. She's scratching on the door even as I type this.
First Sunday of Advent
Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face ...
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
It almost seems quaint to want to see your friends face to face. Paul did not have instant messaging, e-mail, or You Tube. Heck, he didn't have a telephone or television. Aside from personal visits, the only means he had of keeping in touch with diverse far-flung missions was through his letters.
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
It almost seems quaint to want to see your friends face to face. Paul did not have instant messaging, e-mail, or You Tube. Heck, he didn't have a telephone or television. Aside from personal visits, the only means he had of keeping in touch with diverse far-flung missions was through his letters.
We now have a number of ways of keeping in touch with our friends that don't require physical travel. Or even a phone call. With minimal investment, for example, we can digitally record videos of ourselves and share them electronically with friends – and, often, the world.
Paul longs to visit the mission in Thessalonica so he may "restore what is lacking in [their] faith." Now, I'm not as bold as Paul; I do not presume to have the ability or charisma to build up others' faith. More often than not, I'm the one whose faith needs shoring up. And it's not unusual for me to feel that my faith has been strengthened, in one way or another, by what I think of as my on-line community.
But the on-line community isn't enough. I think of how much I miss Dana, a high school friend I haven't seen since last Christmas. He has an impressive on-line presence, he's even posted a few of those videos. But I miss seeing him, and spending time with him.
I look forward to seeing friends at church. There are some people who I don't especially like, but I notice their spot in a pew is empty when they're gone any given Sunday.
I suppose these experiences can be approximated on-line. But the on-line experience can not duplicate a warm hand grasping mine. Only by driving across town can I hear a person's tone of voice in that moment, in response to my opinions or concerns. I can only hear the unique blend of joyous voices at a particular time by being present.
I learn how to negotiate with difficult people, or to disagree respectfully, by practicing at church on Sunday. In these ways, my faith is restored.Friday, December 01, 2006
Snow Day, Dec. 1, 2006
Snow Day, Dec. 1, 2006.
Job was closed yesterday, and today, due to snow. Some areas of the city have up to six inches of snow. And, under the snow, are icy patches awaiting the unwary traveler.
Pictured is the conifer immediately outside the front door, on the west side of the porch. One may see the clear blue sky in the upper left of the picture.
Spent better part of yesterday listening to music and reading Howl's Moving Castle with a certain warm fur ball in my lap. A fine way to spend the day.
Right now, as I stare at the computer screen, I'm listening to Ed Gerhard's the live album; if you enjoy finger-style guitar, this is highly recommended. Included is his fine arrangement of "The Water is Wide."
Idée d’jour
It takes two to speak the truth: one to speak, and another to hear.
— Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)
— Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)
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