Iron Heart

The problem with sucking on the teats of Dionysus is that, at a certain point, you don't know how to feel anymore.  Your heart turns numb, an anesthetic that creeps slowly up your chest until it enters the brain and you turn off, because there's nothing else to do.  There's no reason for it, none at all.  Apollo cannot enter the mind if it's been turned off already, and then there's no reasoning, no logic.  It doesn't surprise me that the teen who went on a stabbing spree doesn't remember doing any of it, or the mother who killed both her kids (admittedly, she was on alcohol and meds) doesn't remember it either. They can't remember if their minds have been turned off.  They have become robots of the Unmaker (as I've talked about before).  All emotional impulse, instant gratification, without thought of the consequences, a cut, a bleed, release the adrenaline and make it all feel better. It will all go away soon.  Except it won't.

I've seen so much recently, from the smiling news reporters who, story after staccato story, tell of the most horrific acts mankind has ever known, and then move on to weather and sports as if nothing has happened.  I'm surprised more news reporters haven't ended up in mental institutions, suffering from PTSD just by reporting on reality.  And kids want constant emotional turmoil, because the deafening silence of "nothing happening" is unbearable in today's world.  If nothing is going on, if Justin Bieber isn't constantly in the news, having done something, usually negative, because that gets more attention, then something is wrong.  The mug shots and tattoos and scantily clad pictures rotate around instant-grams and tweets and pictures that are as permanent as they are forgotten.  Today's shirtless pic is followed up by tomorrow's nude, because that's what the world wants.  Constant hormonal flow, without recourse of thought or reason.  Nothing that stops and watches the permanence of the rings forming in the trees, for our eyes are taken to the leaves blowing away, a flicker of movement, resulting in nothing.

Even in music, numbness is a feeling as prevalent as love.  It caused an entire movement (one that's not gone away, just experienced a brief glow in the spotlight) of forced emotion, trying to squeeze out every drop of emotion, the highs and the lows, out of anything. The opposite of emotion is not reason, but the absence of emotion, as there's nothing to fill that void.  Nietzsche would have quoted in this day and age "Apollo is Dead," and he'd be quite right.  Because if there's no thought behind feeling, no reasoning behind love, there's no point, is there? We could whip ourselves into an emotional frenzy, hurl ourselves off a metaphoric cliff, and there would be no notion of what was on the ground below.

It goes for Christianity, as well.  There's nothing more amazing than the emotional effect of God's word through a song. Listen to I Then Shall Live by the Gathier Vocal Band and Ernie Haase and Signature Sound, and not get goosebumps, I dare you.  It's so easy to get emotionally worked up in a service, as you sing chorus after chorus of a song, but it's got to have some meaning behind it.  For if (and I've seen this) you spend all Sunday School listening and singing to Praise & Worship songs, and are filled with emotional responses, and then leave without any Reason behind it, the glory fades until the next time. God wrote the Bible not just to express His love for us, but also to impart his wisdom. But some want the emotional support without the wisdom.  I think it's almost like a drug.  Go back and listen to the song linked above 50 times in a row (no, actually, don't do that), and the emotional effect will wear off. The words will be recessed into the back of your mind until they've lost the impact that they would have had before.  That's the problem with emotional highs... they never last.  But if there's Reason behind it, something that takes the emotion, stretches it out, analyzes it, applies it to your life, finds patterns and examples, the emotion sticks like super glue onto your life, and it lasts forever.  Because you've made it your own.

Anyone can work someone into an emotional frenzy.  Hitler did it, mass hysteria at the Salem Witch Trials is another example.  Keep the emotion going, so that you don't step back and think about what's really going on, and it'll be fine.  Except the Unmaker always wins that way.  When the emotions have become numb, and you have to find more and more extreme measures to make you feel anything, then the things which weren't even thinkable at one point suddenly become real.  Go on a shooting rampage in a school?  Sure, why not?  It releases feelings and hormones and tension... until the police are ready to shoot you, and then reality hits for one moment, until it's blacked out by the illogical step of shooting yourself.  The Unmaker is very willing to show you what you've done before he pushes you over the edge.

All this is why there has to be a balance between Apollo and Dionysus, between Reason and Emotion.   It's why, again, I have to return to Friedrich's painting "Wanderer Over a Sea of Fog", with the Traveller standing upon the peak of the mountain, shoulders calmly but firmly taught, head erect, confident in his stance, able to Think and Feel, and keep the balance between the two.  Without this, he would surely tumble over the edge to his death.

It's so very easy to just give in to the emotions that swirl constantly like the wind atop that mountain. So easy just to succumb to the breathtaking highs and depressed lows that our lives will inevitably bring us.  And in wanting those highs, constantly, we eliminate the opposite by taking medication, and we forsake Reason entirely.  It's dangerous, for those without Reason can be manipulated, and they stand atop the peaks without sure footing.  Without Apollo's guidance.... it's a long way down.

Climb Ev'ry Large Rock

Denzil Pugh is climbing a mountain. Why is he climbing a mountain? I've been walking trails for a year or so now, through the forests, through spider webs and around snakes and across rivers. The trails have taken me towards granite boulders that sit on the sides of hills, growing moss, collecting leaves. I've climbed hills and looked out over the next horizon and seen Stone Mountain in the distance. And the roads have curved through and exited Rockdale County into Dekalb, until my next walk took me to the Davidson-Arabia Mountain Nature Preserve.  The experience I had there, at the foot of the monadnocks (large, single rocks, like Stone Mountain), was similar to the beginning of my travels at the South Rockdale Community Park.  Coming out of the forest, following the path, I saw massive power lines stretching to the horizon.  Constructs of steel, electricity, power... how awesome it was, to see what man had built to run every aspects of our lives.  Reaching the end of the forest around Bradley Mountain (I parked at the southern end of the area, near the AWARE wildlife area, and followed the rock cairns), I saw a vast expanse of rock sloping upwards, many feet high, with those cairns like pimples spotting the landscape.  In the same way that man created the power lines, so did God create these monoliths of granite, providing evidence of His power, as well as his generosity.  The rock here, called Tidal Grey, is sought after for building countertops...etc...  It becomes the rock, the clay, as it were, that man creates his own world.  In a sense, he is emulating his Creator.  

So I climbed up Bradley Mountain, following the cairns, stopping frequently to catch my breath, as I'm not in the best of shape, but eventually, I reached the last cairn, and the top of the massive rock.  Having never been on top of a mountain before, it was a totally new experience.  Out across the horizon, I could see the tops of the skyscrapers in Atlanta, and Water Towers as reservoirs for the communities hidden in the trees.  The wind blew, and high above me, hawks or buzzards circled in currents high above the rock, looking for an easy meal.  I felt much like the Traveller in Caspar David Friedrich's  "A Traveller Upon a Sea of Mist." It gave me satisfaction, confidence.  I think climbing this mountain, or one like it, is something everyone should do, just to have the experience.  I will most definitely do it again. 

I tied two references to this blog at the top.  First, Mother Superior singing "Climb Every Mountain" from The Sound of Music, which combines the actual mountains of the Alps with the metaphors of life as a mountain.  And while I could go on for pages looking at this very obvious image, used by most every author that had a mountain in their works, I won't.  Because William Shatner did it so much better.  In his interview for Star Trek V, Shatner describes the second scene of the movie, which has Captain Kirk climbing a mountain in Yosemite National Park. He attempts a rationalization of the scene, using the mountain as metaphor, and does a great job of it, no

matter what the other people commenting on the Youtube video say.  It is man conquering nature, God, if you want to go that far (which, obviously, is the theme of that movie, with Kirk going to a world that housed "God," which turns out to be a malicious alien, which the Enterprise fires upon.)

However, I don't think the idea of climbing Bradley Mountain is analogous to destroying God. Rather, I think seeing nature in its full beauty at the top, in all its fragile wonderment, along with the sharp cuts of quarry work, carving out the stone to make the buildings we live in everyday, is a fitting relationship. We both use the stone and then let it stand.  I find the paradox in what I find beautiful about the mountain.  I've seen many pictures of the area--pictures of wildflowers, of the red moss that is unique to the rocks, of the pine trees growing strong and bold from cracks in the rocks themselves--and yes, that is all wonderful.  What I find aesthetically pleasing is the rock itself and what we have done to it and with it.  The cuts, the creations, the water carving out pools and snakes of black upon

slabs of gray.  Probably what I spent most time looking at was the square slab structure made at the far north side of Bradley Mountain on my latest walk around the trails.  Next to the fence that denotes still private property, there is a square structure of granite, solid, held together by metal bolts. Atop it, people have set smaller granite rocks, and on the back, a metal door, which I did not open.  I don't know what it was for, but it was probably made for quarry storage.  What would people, some tens of thousands of years from now, think of it when they find it in a probably now barren planet?  A shrine, a religious construct, an altar? To thank God for the rocks?  Who knows?

If you want to get more information about Arabian Mountain, especially the wildlife and plants, go to Kay's blog here.   She has walked the trails for much longer than I have, and has more knowledge of the ecology there.

I tried, before I left the top of that mountain, to stand as Friedrich's Traveller did, and feel as Howard Roark did at the beginning of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, seeing the hill he was standing on as both itself, the grand beauty of it, and as potential, what he could make of this beauty with his own hands.  We've been given this world by God to construct to glorify Him, but also to make Him proud, to emulate Him, to become creators ourselves.  Let us use this world in that manner, respectfully, adding beauty while preserving it. With reverence as we cut into the stone, with wonder that we are even here to see it.  Let us climb more mountains.

Response to Sarvis' Blog Post

Michael Sarvis, who is a youth pastor at Smyrna Presbyterian Church here in Conyers, started his own blog, and his first blog was really good, so I answered back with a similarly sized post. Verbosity is good.

http://michaelsarvis.wordpress.com/2013/09/05/people/

and my response, which is probably below his, but I'll put it here anyway so I can keep track of my ramblings.  :)

A very good Christian woman once told me that the wisest thing you can learn is when *not* to say anything. I’ve seen this many times online, in the comments of Yahoo news articles and Twitter feeds, in the incessant arguments found on any given Instagram picture. Take any pop icon’s picture of themselves or whatever, scroll down a ways, and the blathering idiot fans will resort to a war of name calling, homophobic slurs, cursing that would make a sailor blush with shame, etc…

Sometimes loving someone is knowing when best *not* to get involved, when to let the people you care about fight it out for themselves, but to be there if needed. There are times in my life when I have stepped “up to the plate” for my friends, a couple of times, I have saved their lives doing it. But I know there are times when getting involved will only make things worse for them, or for me. Sometimes it’s up to God to see them “through” the fires they face . Or rather, sometimes it’s better to let God handle it, and not try to cover up all the bumps and bruises that they will face along the way. A child touches a burner for the experience, and it’s up to the parent to make it feel better afterwards, but it is impossible to keep every harm away from their children. A bee sting, a black eye, a bruise, a cut, a broken heart. Sure, we could bundle up everyone inside of bubble wrap and make everyone safe and secure, keep everyone away from danger, from failure, but then no one would learn anything.

You teach a child in the way they should go, and then hope they never stray from that path. But there’s a time when, in a parent’s life, they can no longer protect the child. The boundaries must be set at that point. If they decide to go out in front of a large crowd at an award show and dry hump a guy like a dog in heat, then there’s really nothing the parent can do. But pray, and make sure that the boundaries are set for the next child that comes along. In this case, sometimes the proper thing to say, is nothing at all. In the case of George W. Bush, when his daughters got caught for underage drinking in Texas, he didn’t use the power of the presidency to get them off the hook, but rather, he let them go through the judicial process just like any other person. Would that the judicial process work on every other celebrity. But sometimes we enjoy watching people fall from the precipice of fame time and again. This is the price for pursuing fame.

As for yourself, the journey you take in life is yours. You can take the paths you want, and the consequences, be they good or bad, will be there. A Christian person, or someone with boundaries , will find their paths with few ticks, robbers waiting in the bushes (although doubtless, they will find some clouds filled with rain… all the better to cleanse you during your walk), and those without boundaries, that take their paths, will be attacked by rabid dogs. All you can do is pray, and have God help you through the rough times. And pray for those without boundaries , that they may find them (and their clothing) again. If those that are your friends want to walk with you, that is wonderful, there will be people to talk to. If not, that’s okay… you know your destination, may you find your way to it.

Replacement Refs and President Obama

So the replacement referees for the NFL goofed one up and cost the Green Bay Packers the game.  And so there were many backdoor meetings where things happened, and phone calls were made, and who knows what, and now the regular referees are now there to make games go as they normally would.  Great. But the damage is much more than just one game or a deal made by the NFL.  We have seen how people react with substitute refs., just as much as substitute teachers in high school.  Authority becomes useless when given to people that cannot demand respect.  This goes for sports especially.  If we have learned that replacement refs have no authority, by what means do we give regular refs that same authority?  Would the foundations of sports games be torn down just because we don't want to honor the social contract given to the people that regulate the game?  Football players, and even the spectators, have agreed upon the rules (else we wouldn't watch the game), giving the refs or umpires or the guys in black and white the ability to organize the game and enforce the rules, by however means necessary.  In an ideal world, the players themselves should follow the rules and no officials would be needed.  There are some instances where this happens.  Self-reporting in Golf, for instance.  In those cases, the act of what should be normal is heralded as supreme sportsmanship.  In most cases, it's get away with whatever you can to win the game and hope you don't get caught.

Obviously, we can take this beyond the realm of sports.  We must respect those who are put in positions of authority above us.  I might have thought that some of my former managers were jerks and idiots, but they had the position to run the store, to sign paychecks, and to hire and fire, and so they must be given that ability.  Now, there are different levels of that respect.  I am talking about the most basic adherence to the social contract that we enter into when we are hired into a job.  We have to accept the hierarchy inside the company.  Genuine respect, of which I have had with most of my managers.  The kind that makes me work hard and passionately wish that our store would succeed, that is earned by the leadership of those above me.  This goes for the people running our government.  Like Mitt Romney did in the debate a week ago, he acknowledged the power and position of President Obama, even while he vehemently disagreed with him.  If we don't agree with the social contract, or the people that are put in place because of it (in this case, the Constitution, the rules of our Government), we have the privilege and responsibility to either change the contract (which is hard) or change the people elected (which is much easier).  No matter who is there as Congressman, Senator, or President, you have to respect that position, no matter who is there.

This takes me back to the Replacement Refs and Substitute Teachers.  If you respect the position of the Referee and the Teacher, then those people who are put in place of the regulars should be given the same respect and obedience as those substituting.  But if they aren't given that, it says much about the respect for those in authority in the first place.  We have to be concerned when the even most basic power structure in our country breaks down because no one acknowledges the social contracts that are established.  If teachers, the police, judges, lawmakers, aren't respected, then what makes even more basic contracts secure?  If even parents are no longer respected, then the result is chaos and anarchy, loosed upon the world.  Far more important than complying with a Pass Interference call, but the idea is exactly the same.

Wild Places

I don't pretend to be an environmentalist.  Someone recycling cans could probably fund college through what I throw away.  I'm not going to make excuses for this; I'm too lazy to make the effort.  I remember listening to Rush Limbaugh on his radio broadcasts, where, during the event that has been called "Earth Hour," where everyone is supposed to turn off their lights for an hour to preserve energy / pay homage to "The Earth" (as if our power is some sort of ritual lamb were supposed to slaughter), Rush tells people he's gonna turn on all his lights.  I agree with him... I'd go buy those flood lights that rotate in the sky and pay a huge electric bill that month.  I really wouldn't do that, but I don't agree with the idea in the first place.  In fact, the whole idea of Environmentalism is about as complex as you can get.  If you would ask me my top 10 books, easily among them would be Henry David Thoreau's Walden.  Simply give me a log cabin out in the woods someplace, next to a river (and if I ever win the lottery, I've got one picked out), and an ultra-fast line to the Internet, and I'm all set.  I'll sit and watch the ants gather food for their hills.  You see, there's a distinct difference in loving Nature, wanting to treasure and relish in the glorious things of this world, and being an Environmental Activist.


I guess it goes back to political ideologies. It concerns how we want to govern our lives, how we see our contract with those who would govern over us.  Our relationship with our fellow man. At its core, Environmentalism is a genuine concern for our planet, with maintaining the beauty and wonder of the planet we live in.  While walking the trails at the SRCP (South Rockdale Community Park), along the South River, I've seen many empty beer cans, other pieces of trash, even a bag of Legos spilled out on the ground.  And at times, I've noticed the water itself has a green tinge that is probably caused by pollution upriver in Atlanta.  I am not saying that the SRCP and the South River are junky.... it is truly beautiful, as the pictures I've taken show.  It would take very little for volunteer groups to pick up what little trash is there.  It would take so little to recycle cans, to conserve water...etc...  We use a large bucket to collect the water that comes out of the compressor in our air conditioning system.  We could, if we had a garden, use it to water the plants and save on using water out of the hose.  It makes complete sense... except we don't have a garden to do that with.

The problem with Environmentalism lies in how you handle the problem.  Companies like Disney, who created a  "Friends for Change" program on TV, have used private funding to promote volunteer work from their clients.  Excellent job! Through individual efforts, so much can be done to promote conservation of our resources...etc...  However, it's when people decide that government regulation of large corporations and commercial regulations of such things as light bulbs, that I start to object.  At this point, the power is taken away from the individual and put in the hands of bureaucrats in the government.  It ceases to be about caring about the planet we live on and more about money, power, and status.  Environmentalists become identical to the private corporations they seek to drain power from.  And then I get turned off by the whole thing and start agreeing with the bombastic statements that Rush Limbaugh uses against the Environmental movement.

The Paradox comes into play here.  By that I mean the Libertarian paradox that states that limited government is ideal when the "ideal" is followed.  If every private corporation instituted measures to protect the environment, preserve resources...etc..., then no regulation would be necessary.  However, not every business is going to operate by what is right, as the desire for profit at the expense of those they are responsible to (including the customers, the Earth, their stockholders), will overcome the reasoning for self-regulation.  Thus the government is needed to assume such actions.  And it drives me nuts!  Because almost every issue runs up against the Paradox when "ideals" are brought to the table. I return to Thoreau at this point, reading his essay on Civil Disobedience, especially the last two paragraphs.  Well worth the look.

Now, jumping to my walks down the trails of the SRCP.  A song kept coming into my head, one by Peter, Paul, and Mary.  In 1982, they self-published a live concert album titled Such Is Love.  I originally found it in a used music store located by my grandmother's house in Oklahoma City. The cassette had never been opened, but what music it contained!  One of the tracks was "Wild Places."  It brings together the idea of protecting the Environment,

 

living along side the beautiful works that God made on this globe, and the idea that doing so is an act of devotion.  For the very fact that such beauty exists in this world, outside of our influence, is an argument that God created this aesthetically pleasing place for someone to enjoy.  Namely, us.  If we cannot take care of it, then it was a wasted effort on his part.  And since I know that this is a fallacy, since God is outside of time and error, then He expects us to enjoy the beauty He has given us.  And what better way than to walk down the trails of this land and witness the beauty of nature, as well as the monumental objects we have placed on this Earth.  I always get this feeling that we need to make God "proud" of us.  For He must have pride in those He loves (and by the fact that we were made in HIs image, we must have pride in the objects we create.)

The duplicate beauty of the trails I've walked is that it contains both God- and Man-made wonders.  Taking a scene from literature, Howard Roarke, in The Fountainhead stands on the hill outside of the architecture school and visualizes the magnificence he can create from simply the clay and rock around him.  A marvelous first scene of any book, in my opinion.  We create things on this Earth for our own convenience, and if we do this in a method which preserves the natural beauty of the world, or even enhances it, then we have used our talents in ways that God would approve.  We have created objects in our world that are good, just as He created this world.   So whenever I cross the hill and see towering before me the power lines that stretch to the far horizon, it is beautiful to me.  If only other people could see the aesthetics that I see.

On a related note, an article in Yahoo showed an design from Meridian 105 Architecture that would work perfectly with my idea of an apartment building that would conserve space and allow people to live in balance with Nature, with Commercial space below ground, and Educational and Religious structures in a vastly increased green space that would be created from the destruction of unneeded current buildings.  Check out more designs here!

Tim Tebow and Symbol Drain

 It's astonishing the ways in which Sports and Faith intertwine.  The Biography section in Lifeway, where I work currently, is stocked full of books about the lives of Tony Dungy, Jeremy Lin, Kurt Warner...etc... These are men who have excelled in the highest levels of athletic competition, and yet they are quick to acknowledge Christ as the source of their strength.  They have tons of admirers, and the countless people who they may have helped convert to Christianity are more important than any championship they may have won. One could easily argue there is no greater symbol of the Christian Faith today, than that of former Florida Gator, and former Denver Bronco Quarterback Tim Tebow. In relation to my previous blog, Tebow has garnered the anti-religious group into a well constructed "symbol drain" to trivialize the praying warrior.

This isn't "Atheists against Tebow." If we are to put a religious context in the fate of Tebow Time, Satan works in subtle ways, as well.  The main threat that Tebow has toward those who are fans of football is that he brings forth numbers that make no sense. He is the opposite of every empirically derived statistic that has been formed about football.  How can a quarterback throw for only 2 passes, and somehow still win the game?  And when he wins his first Playoff game against the Pittsburgh Steelers, in a game that lasted 3:16, throwing for an amazing 316 yards (think John on this) it's impossible to think that some supernatural force is at work with his gameplay.  Tebow has done this all his playing career, and it will be interesting to see how he manages in New York (the parallel of sending Jonah to Nineveh.) Most sports fans, John Elway probably included, can't understand the skewing of numbers from what is normal to something totally out of the ordinary. It goes against every bit of sports science they knew. In fact, it goes against the idea that science, numbers, technology, is supposed to be the answer for everything. Tebow is a threat to the status quo so anyone who doesn't understand the work of God behind his play, wants to see him fail.

Again, this wasn't done by some direct assault, but rather   through what Neil Postman called Symbol Drain.  I call it "Symbol Inflation," but it's the same thing. You make the target funny, inconsequential, irrelevant.  And there were many ways of doing this. First, and most important, the idea of "Tebow Time," and the man itself must be clearly made into a symbol. Tebow himself gave them the answer as he prayed after each miraculous touchdown. In a pose that is now called "Tebowing," the kneeling stance became a symbol of everything Tebow stood for. But as it became a phenomenon, mostly through the usage of Youtube (one of the most influential Media ever created for instant manipulation of any Message), everyone started Tebowing. It became a fad, like "Planking," to kneel "as if praying" and record it in a photo or a Youtube video. The crucial part of this action, however, is that the meaning of the act, in reverence to God, was totally wiped away. It became just a motion, bereft of any prayerful attitudes. This culminated with the Jimmy Fallon impression of Ziggy Stardust/Tim Tebow singing a parody of "Major Tom". In the end, he sings, "Everyone out there Tebow," and Fallon, as Ziggy Stardust, "Tebows," and the crowd goes crazy. In this act, Tebow is trivialized, as are the principles by which he lives his life. Christianity goes by the wayside.

Fortunately, Tebow has refused to do very many talk shows, probably because he knows that any interview will further trivialize his message. But that doesn't stop the Paparazzi from taking pictures of Tebow whenever they can.  In New York, he was spotted having a manicure, and so they took a picture and spread it far and wide, comparing the new Jets QB to the arrogance of Joe Namath, but without the star playing power.  It will continue to happen, and Tebow will be ridiculed and trivialized all throughout the media. Let us hope that his Message is stronger than their Medium. Since it is God's Message, it has to be.

Jesus Selling Wine: Symbol Drain.

So I just finished the last book I purchased from Borders as they were slipping into oblivion. Ironically, it was Neil Postman's Technopoly, the last book that he wrote before dying in 2003. Postman shows how technology, and the ways in which we communicate with it, are quickly extinguishing the printed word, and all of the cultural revolutions that came with that invention. It was fitting that I bought this at the last moment, to rescue it from the store's closing, and to see, as usual, so many things that have come true from 2003 to the present. Would that prophets could live to see their statements fulfilled. Roddenberry would be astounded with the communicator style cell-phones that can easily talk to you with a pleasant female voice. Rand would see the steady encroachment of Statism upon the free market. I wish that Postman could have lived to the present day,

to see the ideas he put forth in his books come to pass. I've tried, in past blogs, to bring his ideas forward to the present day, and see how the Internet, Twitter, Facebook, etc... effect how we communicate, and more importantly, what we communicate. If you wish, my blog series on Neil Postman's work is at this link here. It is seven posts long. Postman often quotes the saying, "The Medium is the Message." Thus, the information relayed by the written word is much different than those of photographs.

Let's take advertisements for wine, for instance (for reasons that will be clear later).  The ad to the left is totally text based.  It tells us that W.A. Jackson has in stock a full-bodied Port, which is recommended for Invalids.  It also has fine "Mellow Whiskies," and received a Gold Medal at the Calcutta Exhibition in 1884 for the "superior excellency of their Ales."  That they have a Liqueur named "Mountain Dew," is interesting.  But the communication is without pictures.  We use reason to ascertain that this merchant is quite an expert on potent potables, and whenever we are in Darlington, UK, we can go to 36 High Row and get Potent Potables (actually, we can't, as the building is still there, but it is now Yorkshire Bank).

Now, let's fast forward to the 20th century, and this ad, which is located on a bottle of wine itself.  It reads "Bottled Romance." There is no reason to suspect that when we buy this "American Grape Wine," that we will be somehow transported to this place which looks nothing like Sandusky, Ohio.  A picture, which has taken the place of a thousand words, relies on emotional response, instant gratification, and instant understanding of the message the advertiser is trying to portray.  This wine is perfect for those candlelight dinners, or reclining in the living room before retiring for a little foreplay.  Looking at the two ads, which one is more effective?

Neil Postman looks at advertising in the modern capitalist society as a mechanism to promote a technological lifestyle.  It rejects reason, preferring instead the instant response given to a 30 second spot on television, or a photo of a scantily clad bikini girl next to a Harley-Davidson motorbike.  Technology worships science, or more precisely, the manipulation of science to presume that whatever numbers are finalized by something that claims to be scientific is exactly the truth.  Technopoly, as Postman calls it, worships numbers, exact figures, whether they are true or not.  It relies on Empirical data, which means that God is no longer relevant to the belief system, as He cannot be proven mathematically. The logic of the theories stated by Apologetic Christians mean nothing, as we cannot sense God with our eyes, cannot calculate Him with our calculators.  The reason I say this is because Christianity cannot be simply sideswiped by another religion, rejected as unneeded.  It is clear from the actions of Communist countries that outlawing religion simply does nothing.  Instead, ideas that do not support a religion of numbers, of technology, must be withered away as unimportant, as trivial.  And there is no better way than to use the services of advertisements to widdle away the meanings of some of our most precious images.  Neil Postman calls this "Symbol Drain."

To me, it is more akin to "Symbol Inflation."  Use emotionally stimulating images to such a degree that we forget the meanings behind them, that they become simply another avenue to sell trinkets on the street.  Let's take the ad above.  The image is of a balcony, overlooking some majestic landscape, obviously European.  At this point, one could imagine Juliet standing on the balcony, wondering about the whereabouts of her lover, Romeo.  Simply one of the most important romances ever told (by Shakespeare, no less), and they have conjured up the meaning to sell cheap American wine.  Another example, take cell phone rings (this, as is obvious, is not an advertisement, but is similar in meaning.)  Beethoven and Mozart would be turning over in their graves if they knew that some of the greatest works of music are currently being used as ring tones for today's cell phones.  It symbolizes something important, even if it is nothing but a cell phone call.  Oh, that some of the cell phones I hear, with their rude speakers answering them, would play the 1812 overture and they would explode upon the striking of the Cannons.

I say this to introduce the television commercial as a proponent of "symbol inflation." Imagine if you will, (and this example appears in Postman's Technopoly, so this is his, not mine) a camera coming down upon a beach someplace in the Caribbean Sea.  A "man" is there, in Ancient Israeli clothes, and He is holding a bottle of wine.  As the camera gets close enough, it is obvious that this man is Jesus Christ.  He holds up the bottle, and says, "When I turned water into wine, I was thinking of this delicious California Chardonnay" Now, obviously, this wouldn't happen, as advertisers are very aware of the Religious impact of using Jesus to sell wine.  It would be...unfortunate.   But the message is clear.  It would only take seconds to introduce the idea that Chardonnay would be the wine that Jesus prefers. And if this is something that is done enough, Jesus ceases to be the Son of God, our Lord who saved us from our sins so that we might have everlasting life, but rather a dude who is trying to sell wine.  This has already happened to Abraham Lincoln and George Washington, who is routinely used to sell furniture on President's Day.  And Santa Claus has almost no meaning now, as there are so many all over the place, and the reasoning behind his flight to every child in the world is faulty.  Further concepts must be employed to keep children behaving, and thus, receiving gifts that are simply bribes to keep the kids behaving all year long. 

Another example, one that I find personally very annoying.  One of the greatest symbols of the United States is our National Flag.  The Stars and Stripes hang above virtually every business, and of course given the myriad of rules on the care of those flags, which should be followed with great respect, sometimes the flags are mistreated by weather and neglect.  I've seen flags torn, stuck in the branches of trees, almost to the point of me wanting to boycott those businesses just because they don't take care of the flag.  But the problem that I see that relates to "Symbol Inflation," is the occasions of putting the flag at half-staff.  It is an act that is emotionally powerful, to see the flag in morning of some great leader lost, or in remembrance of September 11th.  Even on a local level, when a police officer dies or a local representative, it works really well, to let the world know that there was someone great lost.  But it must be used sparingly, so that the half-staff flag doesn't become something we look at and then look away without thinking anything of it.  We should not trivialize our nation's symbols.

The idea of symbol inflation doesn't have to be something physical either.  Let's take the word "Fuck," for instance.  Remember when you first heard it, when your parents first said it was a word you should never use?  How powerful that word was, because you could never say it (even if you did or didn't know what it meant.  I didn't, when I first heard it, which was, by the way, when I was at least 10.)  And then you heard it in a movie, perhaps one you shouldn't be watching, or saw the act itself as a woman or guy said the word over and over in ecstasy (Pornography is also a symbol that is way overused, if seen on the Internet.  The act of sex becomes a physical act, like watching a ball game, and not something special that is tied with love, marriage, and the morality of the past.  Those that controlled Huxley's Brave New World would be proud.).  But now, you say the word if you drop your pen and can't quite get it off the floor, or if the light turns red right when you pull up to the intersection.  It becomes easy to say, bereft of meaning or passion.  Which is why, if anyone ever heard me say, "Fuck," would, after regaining consciousness from passing out in shock, would automatically know that something was terribly wrong.

Technology has replaced the symbol of knowledge in a very few years.  In 1953, Ray Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit 451, a warning to the preservation of books.  In it, fire fighters would go about burning books, and thus, the ideas inside them.  And if was easy to believe, in those days, that with Communism still alive and well, and with Big Brother a real possibility, that the censorship of books was a real possibility.  But now, Postman's Technopoly has done to books far worse than what Ray Bradbury could possible imagine.  Books, as a symbol, are now being replaced by the computer as the archetype of knowledge.  The Encyclopedia Britannica has been replaced by Wikipedia. And the reliability of the information, the truth within the symbol, has been greatly reduced.  Reduced, but not recognized by a large portion of the population.  For the print online, the entries on Wikipedia (which can be made by anyone) are taken as absolute truth, without training in school to realize what is truth and what isn't.  It's in a computer, so it must be true. This is the deification of technology as the Medium and the Message.  When the Bible has ceased to be printed, and it appears on everyone's cell phones as a free app, it will signal the end of Christianity as we know it, and the start of worshiping the Computer, or rather, the information it possesses.  And Christ will be on the television, selling the iPad as the latest miracle device.

Why I Don't Go to Church

 If you ask me which church I attend, I'll tell you, but in all actuality, I've not gone to any one church for quite a while. And while having worked on Sundays for years is part of it, the truth is, I have no interest in attending the today's churches anyway. Here's why. We live in an extremely complex world, filled with philosophical ideas, political stances, religious sects and fanatical beliefs that drive people to suicide in the hope that they find justice in the eyes of their god.  The customers I saw wandering about the religion and metaphysical sections wanted nothing more than something to believe in, some basis for their lives. More often than not they selected Robert Greene's The 48 Laws of Power or Hicks' The Laws of Attraction, something that would give them power over their own lives, often at the expense of a relationship with a loving God. Often I would find customers buying copies of the Jewish Kabbalah and the Koran, both at the same time, just to find the proposed mysticism of the religions. And as for Christianity, people wanted to know about the Apocrypha, the Book of Enoch, the Lost books, more than they cared about the New Testament or anything that had to do with Jesus dying for our sins. They wanted to see what powers were given to people if they joined the Christian faith. Those that did seek ancillary materials for Christianity were interested in being Prayer Warriors, choosing to believe that exorcism, the outcasting of demons and such were possible just by speaking of a word, as if they were Jesus himself.

In my opinion, looking at these lost souls, the current church does very little to prepare Christians for dealing with the issues that non-believers have. When it is successful, such as the self-help advice of Joel Osteen or the financial advice of Dave Ramsey, it's only a partial hold, without the central ideas of Christianity being brought into focus. I firmly believe that someone could sit in the Lakewood amphitheater, listen to Joel Osteen, and feel perfectly good about themselves, as if applying a band-aid, or taking Prozac would help the underlying problems in their lives. But ministerial Prozac is not what I would want, it's merely giving people fish instead of teaching them how to fish, as Jesus' parable goes.

My experience at the Sunday School at the church I have gone to has left me not at all satisfied with the training that teachers are supposed to be giving us to deal with the real world. The teachers would come in, talk about the weekend plans, the football games (and here in the South, Football is a religion, so it must be addressed.), the social rumors and the like. Then the "lesson" would begin, which was just us reading everything out of the book, verbatim, and then the teachers asking us the questions in their booklet. The questions would be, for instance, "Who is your hero?" "What was a time that you took someone for granted? Who did that hurt the most?" And so forth. And people would answer, Jesus, and God, and having swept any in-depth answers to the side (for "God" is the "right" answer for any question asked), we pray and then wait around for the time to go to the sanctuary for "big church." My fellow peers would look like they were brainwashed, only waiting for the end of the class, not willing to spend any time on actually delving into the ideas of the Christian faith, or what makes the other ideas out there so appealing. They are applying a feel-good social balm on an itch that won't go away. And when the unsaved masses walk by with their strange beliefs and their self-help books, we say nothing.

As much as I didn't like my stepdad for many reasons, I completely understood his reluctance to go to Church at all, despite being a very Christian person, a bass singer in a Southern Gospel Quartet, etc... He would invite Jehovah's Witness people in to apply his knowledge to their questions, firmly driving them from our house, never to return. He was determined to save his relatives' souls, even at the cost of having them live with us and take valuable items before we finally kicked them out. He didn't always do it right, but you couldn't argue with his belief systems. He didn't go to church because he found that there was little he could learn from the church pastors, and even less from the Sunday School teachers. He always asked me, "What did you learn at Church today?" I was always annoyed at the question, but I realize now that the answer I gave, "Nothing," was the correct one. To diligently seek (Luke 11:9) God's Word, it is better to read the Bible and other materials ourselves, and climb the path of our beliefs without the help of the current Christian population. It's why, on my Facebook page, I list my religion affiliation as "Libertarian," because I believe in having a relationship with God in my own way, learning from books and life in my own way, and when I die, God can show me where I was wrong. It is through His grace that we are forgiven of our sins, after all.

I would rather go into a Sunday School class and have the teacher say, "God doesn't exist." and then challenge us to prove him or her wrong. Train us in conversing with people, as the topic comes up, about our faith and our beliefs, as well as that of the world. Debate is only possible if we know the philosophies by which everyone believes, as well as our own. It is only possible if we listen first, not excluding those who are outside the realm of Christianity while we live in a safe zone away, apart, and superior to our gentile brethren.

I learn more from a fifteen minute lesson from someone like   Mark Lowry than I do a whole season at Sunday School. Because he thinks, he is willing to diligently seek to find the answers to his questions. And he is hilarious in doing it! Mark doesn't stand outside a college campus and shout to the top of his lungs how he is right and all the sinners on campus are going to Hell. No, he takes life, the humor in it, and crafts it like clay into a message that we can all understand. Even a serious motorcycle accident or a deadly tornado can become at once an entertaining laugh riot and a deeply affecting discussion about the Kingdom of God. And these are things we cannot get at church.

So as I was perusing the Bible section here at Lifeway, I saw an edition called the Christian Apologetics Study Bible. The Apologetics, as I have found out, do exactly what I have been talking about. They study philosophy and other "worldly" ideas as well as the Christian texts in order to understand and converse with those who aren't Christians. While I am certainly not an evangelical person, in other words, I'm not going door to door to bring people to Christ, I think the people who do should be trained in conversing and, if necessary, debating those who have other beliefs. Those who come from the Sunday Schools I've been in wouldn't stand a chance with those who have questions and doubts about the Christian faith. Being willing to talk about the answers in detail, even to challenge your own beliefs, that is the only way to become stronger in one's faith. Being brainwashed isn't going to do it. Diligently seeking is the only way to learn, be it about Christianity or any other subject or philosophy on Earth.

A Mosque in Manhattan

Try this interview style:

So, you've heard all about this mosque they're trying to build at the site of the 9/11 attack.  Everyone's all divided about it. What's you're opinion?

It's a non-issue. When both sides are right, it loses importance. And before you get all unrighteous about it, let's pretend that it is an issue and examine it.  Often, it's in the why's that the real issue is seen. 

Of course it's important! It's the Muslims versus the Christians! It's about all the people who were effected during the 9/11 attacks! How can you....

Imagine there are two people, Christian, and Islam, and they are playing a gigantic game of Risk, with the world being the board. Rewind time, and it becomes obvious that this game has been going on for centuries, with smaller players being taken over, absorbed, or demolished, until there is only a few main players left.  Christian, Islam, Judaism, India, and China. The State trumps religion every now and then (see the Soviet Union a Century ago), but eventually, it all comes down to the forces of belief in the afterlife.  And that's where the mistake is made.

Humans have always wanted to join the winning side. To be the one with the control, power, money, influence. And there's no greater influence than controlling one's spot in eternity.  That's where "religion" comes in.  We have to take "religion" and deconstruct it, to take it apart to its elements, and then the real issue will be seen.  The problem with "religion" is that it is too often seen as a synonym for "church."  A large gathering of people who believe in basically the same thing when it comes to a supernatural being we call "God" and His ability to conquer death, sending us to an afterlife of pleasure or pain, depending on the moralities involved.  Those rules are spelled out in a conglomeration of writings that is called The Bible (or in other religions, The Quaran, The Torah,....etc..) In interpreting those rules, and in imposing others, the leaders of that gathering formed a "church," with social, political, and economical power.  It's those powers that started playing the game of Risk long ago, with the belief that spreading the view of the afterlife prevalent within that group was the goal of the game. In other words, taking over the world. 

So, in this present turn of the giant game, the Islam character has attacked the Christian character and is about to place a piece in the middle of one of his cities, right next to the place where they struck.  It is a victory for Islam.

So you're saying they're doing it on purpose?

Of course they are.  I don't think it's necessary to hide true intentions in the middle of altruistic reasons.  Let's take the Christian character.  In the 1500's, Spanish conquerors brought armadas of troops to the New World, the Americas, in search of gold, slaves, trade, power...etc... Oh, and the spread of Roman Catholicism to the unsaved masses.  The Aztecs, the Incas, Native Americans.  All of these reasons were important, and the spread of religion was a justifying factor.  So when military generals ordered Roman Catholic churches to be built atop Mesoamerican worship sites, it was to vanquish the other religions and to gain power over that area.  The RC church did the exact same thing that the Muslims did when they took over Jerusalem, or when they decided to build a mosque right next to Ground Zero.  It's all the same thing.  Forces playing a game, fighting for power, while the actual religion takes a back seat to the followers' own ambition. 

So they can't make the Mosque at that location?

I'm not saying that.  Rudy Giuliani said in an interview on Fox News Sunday that the Imam who is trying to build the mosque has every right to do so.  He owns the building, has the proper permits.  There's no reason he can't build it.  

What I am saying, if you'd quit interrupting me, is that when you deconstruct religion, you find that, at the heart of it, is God, and you.  The essence of what we believe in is our relationship with our creator.  Thus, what other people do in the name of their religion means very little.  It's what we do for our own relationship with God that matters.  That's why I say it's a non-issue, this whole mosque building thing. It doesn't matter to me, and it shouldn't for anyone else. If the victims of the 9/11 attack were to look at the Bible, and to their relationship with God, they would "turn the other cheek," as it were.  Then it ceases to mean anything to build a Muslim worship center on Ground Zero, and a compromise could be easily worked out.  Except for the fact that there would be no news, no strife, which is what today's 24/7 news channels need. 

There was a very easy solution to all this, if the powers that be would have done it, so many years ago.  It should have been very easy to purchase the buildings surrounding the attack site following 9/11.  I would have thought that property values would have gone down in the area, what with condemned buildings and all.  I might be wrong.  If they had wanted to create a monument to the people killed, they could have easily done so.  But they didn't.  They squabbled and fought and drug their feet, and so now, some 10 years afterward, nothing has been done.  I think they almost wanted to leave it in ruins to keep the wound open, to keep the anger flowing.  It is a more potent force than homage and peace.  It is the same thing that the Japanese did in Hiroshima, leaving a structure untouched as a reminder of those events.  To me, progress, moving forward, building again and prospering is so much more effective than letting the mind wander in the torturous halls of the past. 

Thus the free market system had a hand in all that transpired, and what is to come.  The Christian organizations could have bought that building long ago, but they didn't.  The site that was the WTC could have already been rebuilt and all this would be bunk.  But it didn't.  And since we're talking about free market, let's make the WTC site profitable.  And balanced.  Build a Christian church (the Protestants and the RC can share), a Synagogue, and then build the WTC reborn in the middle, with restaurants and retail and all the things that makes America what it is today. Everyone can eat, pray, and love, all in the same place. 

Because, in the end, the answer is that everyone is right. Or at least, to us, it should be.  Let the Muslims bow to the east, let the Jews follow their traditions, and let the Christians continue to break bread. And we'll all worship our own God and believe in Him. To me, I could care less what other people believe.  I have my own relationship with God, and if I'm right, then that's great.  If they are, then that's good too.  No one has to be wrong or damned or destroyed because of what they believe in.  Leave that up to God. He's got the power to strike us down, not some silly Terrorist in a plane.  And getting all riled up because a Muslim leader decides that he can press our buttons by building a church on top of where some other Muslims attacked our country, well, it's just not necessary.  In fact, it's just what we shouldn't do.  Do what the Bible says.  Turn the other cheek. By forgiving and making it a non-issue, we've already won. I think God would think so, anyway.

B&B: The Magicians and The Mold

So to recap, God created us in His own image, so we, in turn, have this insatiable desire to Create things in our own image. The Gods themselves, those that were made by the Greek citizens in the polytheistic societies, were ones that had affairs, were greedy, lustful, and did all that mankind would do, but on a supernatural level. They were made in our own image, partially to justify our own behaviors, and also to entertain us of people much more powerful than us that control our universe. That they ultimately fall, and are consumed by those emotions, turning demigods into trees and fair maidens into spiders, those are stories made up to bring the perfect down off their pedestals and make them like us. Just as Joan Osborne did in her song.

This also applies to the rich and famous in today's world. The fall of the mighty off of the pedestals that we made for them (and consequently, tore down), is similar to the stories the ancient Greeks would have made about the Gods on Mt. Olympus. That our "Gods" live in "The White House," or play on "Pebble Beach Golf Course" is immaterial. They do the same thing, from supernatural and society-moving activities to the very human and very base actions of following their own hormones and emotions.

But I digress. Let's switch subjects.

***

Take a gander over at Google Earth, and walk down the streets on maps that are intricately carved out by satellites speeding across the sky taking pictures of every square millimeter of our planet. Everything is so precise, so final. It lacks the emotional response of the maps made back in the middle ages, where you see the edges of the maps fall off into whiteness, filled with strange creatures, sea dragons, people with one foot and one large eyeball. Those are the frontiers that we still yearn to explore. They could not know what lay beyond the cities and roads they traveled, so they made it up. Created the edges of our worlds with their imaginations, or with stories and rumors from across Europe. What excitement to extend the boundaries that are known, and drawn the coast lines farther, as if some 6 year old with a crayon were creating it from some mystical place. (Actually, there is a book like that. Pick up Harold and the Purple Crayon sometime. It'll only take a second, but it's a magnificent book that shows the idea of "Creating" so simply and elegantly.)

The authors of the present, since the real world is now shown in satellite preciseness and clarity, must create worlds of their own. The maps that you find in the beginning of books are worlds that you will be visiting in those pages. What is the town of "Bree" like on the map of Tolkien's LOTR? How would the world of Narnia look standing at the thrones of the 4 kings and queens? These worlds are as real to us as the maps of the middle ages showed those magnificent creatures swimming at the edges of the unknown. Except the authors of modern day fantasy stories have an advantage. The world is theirs to create entirely. They are the God of that universe, and they can control everything. Such is the mold of every fantasy novel. Much like the potter, spinning his clay on a wheel to make a vase (cue "Unchained Melody"), or a baker kneading the dough out to make bread (with cheese and Rosemary). They all are creating something from a mold, much as God did Adam out of the mud of the riverbank in Eden.

These molds, drawn in intricate detail by each author, are now just as real to us as an atlas of our own Earth. We know what Middle Earth looks like, or Narnia. We know where Hagrid's house is, off to the side of Hogwarts School of Wizardry. And when we read a new book, with a familiar map on the inside of it's cover, we know that we are in for adventures with dragons and elves and dwarfs and whatever else that the creator, the author, has thrown in.

The key to this is our Suspension of Disbelief. We cannot descend into this other world until we have put on pause the belief that this reality is the only one that exists. We have to replace God with "Author" and our universe with another. One good example of this, in story form, is C.S. Lewis' book The Silver Chair, part of the Narnia series. The underground world is one that the witch created, but there are other worlds that we only get a glimpse at, which are farther down and even more strange.
***

Book Review: The Magicians by Lev Grossman.

Lev Grossman took the mold that Tolkien, Lewis, and Rowling had kneaded into their universes, and threw them at the real world. He is very aware that, seeing the map on the inside cover of the book, that we are expecting something along the lines of the Narnia series. He knows that, by suggesting a school of wizardry, we are expecting a Harry Potter knock off that will ultimately end in the main character, Quentin Coldwater, saving the universe and blah blah blah... But this is not what happens at all. Because along with the molds of those lands, he throws in the gritty reality of our world. There is no disbelief to suspend at the beginning since Quentin is more interested in sleeping with Julia than studying Potions with Professor Snape. He reads the same pseudo-Narnian stories that we have, and his continued wish for that world to be true is somewhat pitiful. We pity this brilliant outcast, this boy full of teenage angst and self-loathing. We see too much of ourselves in this child.

There is no "Happily Ever After" in this book. Mainly because there is no happily ever after in real life. Things happen. People die. Hearts are broken. And very rarely is everything tied up into neat little packets like the endings of Full House episodes. It's much like the end of Law & Order, where very little is resolved and you're left feeling like you've run into a brick wall. But unlike L&O, this book does have a sequel, coming out Summer of 2011.

The section of the book where Quentin is in Brakebills School is my favorite part, if nothing else than because it is filled with such potential. The mold at this point is raw, unfashioned. The characters could be much more filled out by this time; they are mere shadows of what they could be. And while some people will not like this, it's the potential for what they could become that fascinates me. It leaves the imagination open to what this school would really be like, if I lived in it and became a part of it. It's the calm before the chaos that I see so much in books recently. The place where you most want to live, the place where you reluctantly leave because, if you didn't, there wouldn't be a story. It's this section of a book that gives the author a chance to shine. Grossman doesn't fulfill this need as well as someone like Orson Scott Card would, with brilliant dialogue and conversation. He is learning, however. Even at the end of the story there is much more depth in each soul.

Like many of the books Borders has promoted recently, this book is not perfect. It has its flaws and its moments of shining glory. Lev Grossman has done what many authors have done previously, what God did so many eons ago. He created a world with so much potential, but also with the imperfections that make it unique, make it interesting, almost human. If the twists of the normal fantasy world is of interest, try Stephen R. Donaldson's Mirror of Her Dreams and John Connolly's Book of Lost Things.
***
The next in this series will talk about the need to Make (create) versus the desire to Unmake (destroy). As for now, I'm gonna enjoy my new AC unit I have in my room.

Bread and Blogs: Creation and the Creator

"Habalo..." It's Sim-language for "Hello." A person creates a person to live in an artificial world, with an artificial job, doing artificial things (with built in masks to cover nekkidity.) Anyone old enough to remember Bonanza will shake their head and groan, not understanding the metaphysical needs behind being endlessly addicted to a game like The Sims. Honestly, it never really did anything for me, as I found it to be too restrictive. Why only simulate part of your life, when you can live your life to the fullest in the real world? Course, that is rhetorical. I fell much more in love with Spore, where I could build creatures from the cellular level. See my blogs: Spore Blog 1 and Spore Blog 2 for the reviews on that game. Actually, I'll wait while you read those, because they are central to my line of thought. Go ahead...

Anyway, if we go back to Genesis, to the sixth day, God created us in his own image. I wonder how far that goes, how exactly like God we actually are? And to a further extent, how much is God like us? (cue Joan Osborne). He must have known (actually He did know) that Adam would have eaten from the Tree of Knowledge (and Eve, too), and thus become cast out. He must have known that our curiosity about everything would propel us to evolving into what we are today, and even farther. It seems ironic, but if you think it, God created us in His own image, but made us flawed. Of course, the reason being, since He made us with self-awareness and free will (in His image), we have the ability to freely err from perfection. If we didn't have this, and we stayed perfectly in Paradise this whole time, there wouldn't be anything for God to be proud of. He would have a whole army of Robots, without any thoughts of greatness or progression. It's simply not the way things go.

So, as we are created in God's image, we become ourselves, Creators. The basic drive for raising families, raising cats, building houses and writing books. The need to create is a powerful emotion, one that overshadows the Devil's need to destroy (but more on that later). We have the same basic desire to be proud of what we create, living or non living. Just as God would be proud of us.

It's this emotion that drives us, in our daily rituals at the computer, to devote so much time to the characters we have online. We build up an elf on World of Warcraft, level after level, adorning him or her with ornate armor, magnificent weapons, and adept skills, only to have it sit on some server for all eternity while we try out the latest edition of Everquest. It seems useless, that we would spend so much of our lives on creating a character that is not real, but as we slay the dragon in the deepest dungeon of WOW, we experience the pride that God would feel about His followers. It matters little how transitory the pride or the character is. It is, of course, a shadow of God's emotions, but, as Plato would point out, we are but shadows of the real thing.

A Room With No View, or Praising God in a Box.

[It's taken about a week to work on this...]

So the Oscars were last night (what was up with Zac Efron's hair?), and honestly, I watched it because it was slightly better than all the other drivel that was being broadcast at the same time. I wonder if the execs in the higher echelons of television have decided not to care about quality of programming, since we don't clearly. The same ratings exist now with worthless "reality" programming than the quality shows that were on the air not even a decade ago. Since "reality" is much cheaper, why not? And on most channels, 3 minutes of programming is followed by 3 minutes of commercials, with the result being that I have forgotten what I was watching, and thus, wasted 6 minutes of my life. But I am off track for what I really wanted to talk about.

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I am curious why, when people build structures to live their lives in, they often construct them in manners totally opposite to their purpose. When I went to church, some years ago, the Baptist church I attended had been constructed many years before, added onto, and consisted of many staircases, small rooms, winding hallways, so much so that you could easily get lost going wherever your goal was. The rooms were small, ill lit by windows, and contained uncomfortable chairs and an hvac system that sometimes barely worked, keeping you too cold or too hot. Going to a place every weekend where you were lost, cold/hot, and uncomfortable, is hardly a way to spend a Sunday morning talking about faith, philosophy (which is what they should have been discussing), and Eternal salvation. I would much rather have spent the day talking about such things outside, under a tree, in the places where God is present. I would have rather kept notes on a slate made of wood and stone, and sat on the ground or an old tree stump, than in the rooms where we sat, much like chickens in a coup or cows in a stall. If a church building is to be about God's word, let it be built openly, where the vaulted roofs and the bright, plain windows would let the light shine in, and let prayers and praises float out into the heavens. Have the small rooms contain places for individual study, with comfortable chairs, and the lines of the roofs slanting up at angles to eternity. Man was not meant to worship in a box.

Nor was he meant to work in one either. Take how corporations make the buildings that they work in. The laborers sit in tiny cubicles, taking orders and mindlessly slugging away at their desks, dreaming about their calendars of Hawaii or whatever screen saver is currently showing pictures of paradises unknown. The windows on their world are unobtainable, unreachable, except for the pixels on the screen. They do not see the outside world, where the results of their labors are felt. There is no outward goal, only the struggles of what they do, day in and day out. The CEO might have windows in his corner office, overlooking the fountain and the forests outside, or overlooking the mighty cities that are the results of their success. Would that everyone could have an office that overlooked New York City, or Atlanta, to see the magnificence of what human beings can accomplish, when their dreams are realized through hard work and prevalence. Suddenly the minor bounces in the stock market don't seem so bad. The future, the window for which everyone peers outside at the unknown, is brighter, when the present is gazed at for what it is. But no one looks up to the heavens anymore, to the Empire State Building, to the complex construction of the Brooklyn Bridge, or of the Peachtree Tower (which my dad helped design the sprinkler system.). Instead, they see the ground, with their head held low, looking out for the cracks in the sidewalk, the mud on the streets. How can you look down and still look forward at the same time?

Corporations don't make their employees work "outside the box," literally, they are working inside them. Look at the plans for Google Inc., and their headquarters, and you will see the many windows (pun intended) and the open places, in which they work. Tell me they are not successful, when they can take a photograph of every square mile of the Earth, and allow us to travel along those paths and peek into every nook and cranny of our planet. How marvelous! You should try walking along the highway going from Western Canada to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and into Alaska. Such peace and tranquility, such openness of space. Such potential of creating a world where man and Earth can co-exist and thrive together, bringing exhalation to man and God alike.
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If you ask me where I would want to live, I would describe for you a cabin located off of highway 212, and Lake Sinclair. A quaint fishing log structure, with maybe one or two rooms, a kitchen, and an overhang for parking the car under. That, and if there was a T1 line to the internet (because I am living in 2010 and not the 1860's, as Thoreau did), I would be all set. Or perhaps in a studio apartment overlooking the Porterdale waterfalls on the Yellow River, atop the Mill. But that's my love of old buildings. The reason I love that building is the tall, open ceilings and the large windows overlooking the river. I would enjoy that.

If you ask me the least favorite place I would want to live, I would tell you the old Napier Hall at Georgia College in Milledgeville. Quite possibly, in my opinion, the worst piece of architecture ever built on Earth. It would be more suitable for prisoners, who would never see the outside of the world again, than college students who are trying to expand their minds beyond the microcosms they live in. It was a box of stairs, small rooms, musty odors, and nothing that signifies the freedom a college student feels when he or she leaves home. Absolutely disgusting. And the Earth breathed a sigh of relief when it was torn down some years ago.
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Many years ago, when I was in high school, we'd all rush away from those cement block prisons on unairconditioned cheese wagons to the relative freedom of our neighborhoods. Why they couldn't build public schools with a little more reflection of the growth that was expected inside I don't know. Heritage High School had, for years, these windows in each outer classroom that had been halfway painted over so that only a little light comes in, but you couldn't see anything outside. And the inside classrooms were just boxes which could have been Gas Chambers for all the comfort they gave. Today classrooms are made a little better, with some exceptions. If I were to teach someplace now, just based on Architecture, I'd go to Union Grove High School in Henry County, Georgia. Brilliantly designed, with clear light streaming into the wide hallways (Hall C at Heritage was so narrow, you just wanted to take a steamroller between classes and get rid of the people lounging around and totally blocking the arteries of the school.), and a cool round entryway with the gym in the center of the school with the rest expanding from the atrium next to the offices. Great style and function!

But I digress. During the summertime, after we've slaved away in these buildings, I'd go outside, hoping to find someone to play with, away from these boxes we call homes. But there'd be no one out. Everyone would be inside, playing their Playstations and watching TV, when the weather was nice and warm and people could be out playing and enjoying life. It's like I've said before, I've always yearned for the days before there were all the electronic distractions, when kids would go out after their chores were done and stay outside all day until supper was ready. The nostalgic times probably never existed the way they are painted, but the stereotype must have had some truth to it. Those times are long gone, and part of me wishes that some cyber-attack would destroy all these gadgets, these artificial windows into pseudo-worlds, so that we would all have to go outside and play again in the parks and streets. But the swings remain empty, the slides vacant, the local swimming holes become homes for the frogs and fishes, but no kids swinging out on ropes and jumping into icy water.
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I'm gonna post this part of the blog and finish it later... honestly, on the days I've had off, I've done my grandmother's taxes and then spent the rest of the time trying to explain to her how I did them. I'm tired, and want to sleep.

Reviews: Maze Runner, Bill Gaither in a Box.

The Maze Runner, by James Dashner, gave me the impression that I was in the middle of a web, with all these other books and authors, all well known and famous for contributions to literature, surrounding Dashner's work. And this from an author who graduated from Duluth High school here in Georgia and is currently writing this second series. He also has written The Thirteenth Reality, which I will be sure and investigate. The book itself deals with a boy, Thomas, who regains consciousness and finds himself in a box with these other boys, who live, eat, and sleep, all to solve the mystery of the gigantic maze around them. Watching Thomas grow in the story reminded me of Bilbo, in The Hobbit, as he finds the talents and maturity he needs to become an essential part of the tale.

Dashner has a great, staccato writing style that fits in with the teenagers that fill the story. The timing is acceptable, for the most part, except at the very end, where the last chapters are rushed, almost as if there was a page limit for the book. I've always felt that there comes a moment in a book where you have to look around and sigh at a place where the protagonist is content with his world, and so are you. It's a place you don't want to leave, but yet, if you didn't, there wouldn't be a story. It's much like life. If you are in a content place all your life, you don't really have one. And any biography you might write wouldn't sell a copy. I sort of wish that Dashner had prolonged this part of the tale just a bit, so that we might languish in his world.

I kept thinking about Gary Paulsen's The Transall Saga at this point, watching Thomas evolve into a skilled hunter and survivor. And Paulsen does let the reader stay in a place for a little while before moving on. Also, and this is said in other reviews, the fight of a sustained group of boys trying to establish a culture, a system of governance, is much like Golding's Lord of the Flies. Except for these prisioners, the island has a purpose, as Thomas finds out. One of the characters, Chuck, reminds me of Piggy, as well.

But the main novel I thought about as I read it was Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game. If you enjoy reading Card, then this is a great read. I'm only giving it 4 stars (of 5) because the ending was rushed, and I didn't agree with some of the plot line. But as it is a series, the next book should resolve some of my issues with it.
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Gaither Vocal Band Concert, Augusta, GA.

I put in Augusta, because it's a very large part of the journey. I don't think I ever said how much I hate driving. It's almost an unbearable task, one that is necessary because you can't get anywhere without doing it. And Augusta is 2 hours from Conyers, down a long, straight, boring road, with nothing but trees to look at and Police cars to watch out for. And that was what save me from going to sleep (I can easily go to sleep just driving to the grocery store, especially not without music or talk radio or an audiobook or something. I have to keep that corner of my brain occupied, or, if it becomes bored, it'll find the nearest place to activate itself, namely, in my dreams, which it tries to accomplish by putting me asleep.). Because we hadn't looked at the tickets until after we had left, and it was an hour and a half to the start of the concert. So I concentrated on going as fast as I could while watching for signs of Crown Vics with lights on top. :) And to tell you the truth, going 90 down the interstate feels pretty good. Gets the adrenaline pumping.

The James Brown Arena (formerly the Augusta-Richmond County Civic center) was built in 1974, in a time when domed stadiums and arenas were built to withstand massive hurricanes and were made as boxed-like as possible. Therefore, the arena was one big box with seats almost vertically to the ceiling. Did I mention how much I hate stairs? It reminds me of the Superdome in New Orleans, but shrunk in the wash. At least the Georgia Dome is comfortable.

I've been to many Gaither Concerts in my days with my mom. My job is to drive to/from the place, and be the photographer. I take pictures of my Mom and _____. Then we get the pictures developed and then signed the next time we go to a concert. The music is good, for the most parts, and it's easy to know when to take potty breaks. Some groups are better than others.

The one thing that struck me as interesting this trip were the people around us. Augustians sitting near us had never been to a Gaither Homecoming concert before. They were mainly older folks, with the unmistakable look of being country people for most of their lives, and their parents' lives as well. And that's okay, for the friendliness and devotion to God is very prevalent in the audience. (As a side note, the people at the Arena need to hire better ushers. It certainly helps if they are literate, and not half blind.)

It got me to wondering. Where are the young fans of Southern Gospel music? When the youth of today pass on their musical heritage, will it only be the music of Madonna, U2, and MC Hammer that they remember? Will folk music die out all together, with no one humming "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" some thirty years from now, when Mary Travers is but an entry on Wikipedia? The honest answer is, I'm not sure.

I do know, however, that groups like Ernie Haase & Signature Sound and the Gaither Vocal band are doing their best to promote traditional Southern Gospel music to today's generation. And it's working. Among the people performing on the stage that night was a boy singer named Logan Smith. His Myspace page says he's from Covington, and enjoys Southern Gospel music to the extent that he can sing most any song in the canon. He has traveled with the Gaither group on the Alaskan Cruise, and sings at many churches here in Georgia. His favorite songs are those sung by the late Vestal and Howard Goodman. He sounds just like them, even better than my impressions of them. I was impressed. It also showed that Southern Gospel music has the ability to attract those of the younger generations, and thereby seccuring the genre to a healthy following in years to come. Now if only Folk music could find such saviors.

One of the Gaither Vocal Band's greatest songs is "I Then Shall Live," which was written by Gloria Gaither to the tune of "Finlandia," (done by Jean Sibelius, a Finnish Nationalist). As great as "Amazing Grace" is, it never ceases to amaze me how much Christians define themselves as "wretched." Pride becomes a deadly sin. There's no need for us to whip ourselves with cat-o-nine tails as punishment for sins that we have already been forgiven for. In Gloria Gaither's lyrics, she paints a Christian as one who, having been forgiven, can now live a proud life of one who knows the virtuous ways of living and celebrates that by spreading that joy to other people. It's a remarkable song, and one that the GVB and EH&SS do as an anthem to the positive force that Christians can do for this world, if they are not bogged down in political power grabs, hypocrisy, and bringing about condemnation to the people of this world whom they are supposed to love and support.

Trick or Treating, Purgatory, and the Gates of Hell

"What's it gonna be, Pops. The candy, or your front window?" Paul Stookey spoke those words in the 1960's, and they still ring true today. I've had friends on the social sites complain about the reactions that they had with children going "trick or treating" through their neighborhoods. Complaining about the amount of candy, "only one?!?," or even having the parents do the trick or treating for the children (who probably remain safe and sound in the car, away from the evil grips of all the child molesters that live in every house.) The spirit of Halloween has been completely dispersed from the holiday itself. It's been replaced, much as it has at the Yuletide season, with commercialism, greed, and a sense of "entitlement."

We are playing a CD on the overhead system this week, Sting's If On a Winter's Night, and track 2 is called "Soul Cake." That track, called "A'Soulin," is also on the Peter, Paul, and Mary album. The idea of Trick or Treating, from amongst other cultural traditions, comes from the Great Britain celebration of A'Soulin' on All Soul's Day, November 1st. On that night, the children go around, singing the song the PP&M performed, and ask for fruit, bread, candy, coins...whatever, as homage to ancestors, loved ones, that have passed on and entered Purgatory. Each eaten "Soul Cake," a bread specifically for that day, represents a loved one leaving Purgatory and entering Heaven.

So trick or treating, at least, through this cultural origin, is a religious ritual. The candy represents lost loved ones. Yet in this country, Halloween is just an excuse to get sweets. To feed hyper children and then send them to school the next day to drive the teachers nuts, or to let the blood sugar rise and drop and then they sleep the whole day. Whichever. But the problem is that children now feel that they are "supposed" to get candy on that night. That anyone who doesn't give you candy, or in enough quality, that you have someone insulted them. They have this feeling of "entitlement." And, it's the same feeling of entitlement that kids feel when they go to Walmart and feel they have to get a toy. Or later, when they grow up, the feeling of entitlement that they have to have Health Care. As for me, I would much rather get a job, go the store, and get my own bag of candy.
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Book Review: John Connolly's Gates

This is a book that tries to be for young adults what The Book of Lost Things was for adults. But it doesn't quite reach the character development or the lyricism of Connolly's first fantasy work. It reminds me quite a bit of the Lemony Snicket books, in that it sounds as if an adult book writer is trying to write for kids, giving them a wink wink sarcasm while talking down to them.
Overall, the characters are agreeable, the flow works, and it was a decent read.

The plus I will give him is that he went into Quantum and String Theory quite well, and fused science (the multiverse) with religion (the idea that Hell actually exists in a Multiverse dimension.). The combination of the two will enthrall and challenge readers to think of the two in a totally different way, and will wind up being talked about in Sunday School classes, at least, I hope. It is a perfect spring board for someone to begin finding out for themselves about God and Science...etc...

I hope that, in the next book, he does the same for Heaven, since the book leaves that part out. If Connolly personifies Satan in this book, he cannot leave out the personification of his opposite. And there are plenty of characters in that world, Angels, for instance, that can make a Nurd like character, and work very palpably.