Wife Swap

Cat, the co-editor of the Red Light District Anthology that I’ve already been rejected from before I submit, recently posted this notice:

Hey Tracy,

I also wanted to drop you a line because I know you are into the horror genre, like me. I decided to start looking for families that love horror and I thought of you. I know you run some message boards and work with some authors. I was wondering if you mind passing my info along to see if there are any families are interested. You know the type of personalities we look for and the requirements- 2 parents and at least one child between 7 and 17. If a family is cast based on your referral, we will give you $1,000. J I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask you! Thanks. Tell everyone I said hello!

Just thought I'd throw that out there. Actually I know several families that would be good for this, but I would get in touch with those folks before sending info on to the show folks. If you're interested and want to know more (and my feelings on it) let me know.

Cat

There are many reasons I love my wife, chief among them (besides her ability to put up with my odd ways of declaring my love) being that she’s so often the voice of reason and reality grounding in the Broaddus household. When I mentioned the Wife Swap idea, she made two simple points:

1) Do you know how you’d look on national TV?

2) Wouldn’t it be funny if they swapped me for Chesya?

Yeah, that’d be just my luck. During Mo*Con, my wife and Chesya got to hang out together for a whole weekend. Good times (READ: Exhibit A on why polygamy is a bad idea - that’s only more women that I won’t be able to please). Hmm, let me see if I can draw on my convention experience with Chesya to imagine what my life would be like:

-Chesya on sleeping arrangements: “Of course I get the whole bed. There’s plenty of floor. Here, I’ll even give you a pillow. Yeah only one. Do you know who I am?”

-Chesya on fixing dinner: “Maurice, I’m hungry. Yes, it’s two in the morning. I want a slice of pizza.”*

-Chesya on dressing: “No, you ain’t wearing that. You don’t get to out dress me. Do you know who I am?”

Of course, now that I think about it, Maurice Broaddus and Chesya Burke living together sounds like a TV sitcom pitch. Someone call an agent!

*Yeah, yeah, laugh it up all you WHC 2005 attendees who actually witnessed that one.


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Will Someone Explain ...

My fascination with all things Hoff?

My new INtake column is up, obviously on a topic that has been on my mind for a while now. Big shout out to my new brother-in-law, a great example of what it means “To be a man.”


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Writing the Other Redux

Not too long ago, Jay Lake had a blog entitle Writing the Other that I stumbled across too late into the discussion to add anything valuable. So I decided to blog my response.

One of the first things we are taught as writers is to write what you know. Some writers wouldn’t dare write outside their race/ethnicity and probably shouldn’t. Unfortunately, I’ve read too many horror novels where “white author a” has inserted some black characters into a scene and I was left yelling at the novel “have you ever met a black person?” Which is what the conversation, in my mind, boils down to: creating well rounded characters. Stereotypes are not well rounded characters, they are writing short-hand. Characters who haven’t been fleshed out or researched isn’t good writing. If you are doing your job as a writer, you should be able to get into the heads of any character. If we weren’t capable of doing that, then we’d be left with stories featuring single raced, single sexed individuals, because you could only write your own race and sex. Plus, getting in each other’s skins, walking a mile in “the other’s” shoes, is how we get to know one another.

So race, class, sex, none of these are areas forbidden to us as writers in the characters we create. We just have to be aware that different races, classes, and sexes bring their individual perspectives to the characters. Which shouldn’t be a problem ... for good writers.

Stereotypes are the domain of the hacks.

However, why end a blog here when I have all sorts of tangents to go down.

Some of this if fueled by white guilt. I’ve maintained that as we continue into this age of postcolonialism, we still have to deal with the lingering attitudes of both the colonizers as well as the colonized. Under colonialism, cultures were wiped out, the memories of our histories wiped out (and I say “our” realizing that this was something far from unique to the black story). However, I don’t see writing “the other” as some sort of maintaining of a paternal hegemony nor any kind of cultural appropriation.

Think about the general plot of most of the horror stories we read: middle class/blue collar white family suddenly finding an outside force interrupting their lives. If we want to move from telling the same stories over and over again, either writers have to write “the other” or “the other” is going to have to start writing more. I’m good either way, just do your job well. Then again, I see myself as a bit of a folklorist. So no culture is off limits to me as long as I do my research well and write the best stories possible. Of course, for me, “you people” are “the other” and I write you all the time (and no one has asked “have you ever met a white person?” Yet. Now I’m sure I’ll be deluged with those e-mails).

Granted, writing the other has led to some interesting reversals in my writing. Since I am a black writer and I write black characters a lot of the time, I’ve been playing with the idea of assuming the posture of the majority (this is more intellectual exercise than anything else). In the stories I read, white characters don’t announce their whiteness or make note that they were talking to other black characters. Yet, when “an other” enters the scene, race is automatically ascribed. (I know there is a Harlan Ellison quote about this, but I can’t recall it right now). I’d notice a tendency to “announce” the race of my characters in my own stories, something that never came up when my fellow black horror writers were discussing writing black writers. So, assuming the posture of the majority, maybe I should only announce the race of a character when a white person enters the scene.

For that matter, I’m trying to figure out a way to flip the idea of the magical Negro. However, that may not work as well since a white person redeeming the colored masses is practically its own genre. Though, maybe I could establish a recurring “magical redneck” trope. (Relax, I’ll dedicate a whole blog to the idea of the “magical Negro” at a later date.)

A last rabbit trail and I’m done. One of the advantages to being one of “the other” is that a lot of times, my perspective is that of outsider. I don’t worry about it because I see being an outsider as a universal: everyone has felt like an outsider at one point or another. However, I have noticed that when I write stories with exclusively black characters I often get this feedback: I felt like I was being preached at. I think this feeling, besides my tendency to get preachy, comes from the idea of how race is perceived. This comes down to the idea of race in terms of identity politics. White people, for example, don’t think in terms of race. It’s the luxury of the majority, the luxury of privilege, to not have to worry about how race plays into the equation of life. In a black worldview, most things are defined by race. So black characters talking about racism to one another, though germaine to the story, might come across as preachy to a white reader. Yes, these are horrible over-generalizations, but I think you get what I’m saying.

And I’ll allow for the possibility that I may be wrong.


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Cycles*

Some folks just need to be angry.

They aren’t satisfied unless some sort of turmoil is going on in their lives. They have to have targets to fight against. They have to feel persecuted, even if they have to create that scenario, because that’s how they are conditioned. So much anger, unanswered whys, frustrations; the self-loathing, the voices that tell them they cannot be loved for who they are, as they are. They just have to bubble up every so often.

Sometimes it’s how they stoke their passions, how they get themselves "up," the anger fueling their art. Sometimes it complicates their relationships, as they push those closest around them away. Sometimes the cycle becomes a part, even an extension, of who we are. At least we imagine them to be.

It’s tough to break cycles and we can rarely do them alone.

Contrary to the principles of self-empowerment, the strengths of any one individual do not reside exclusively within, but between – in our interactions with others. Most of our problems and joys in life do not arise from our own self as much as they arise from our self-in-relationship to others.

People aren’t their cycles, they are opportunities to love. So we love them despite the cycle, because it’s who they are. We walk along side them during their calm times and help then along their spiritual and emotional journey as they mature. When they want to push us away, we hold them while they thrash themselves out. Because that’s who we are. Their friends. Their family. Their community.

*Some of us have depressive cycles. Same deal, we’re just quieter.


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Writer’s Blogs

Every time a bell rings, another person starts a blog ... and apparently that bell is ringing a lot. As writers, I wouldn’t say that it’s mandatory for you to have a blog, but I would highly recommend it. I’m going to confess something: I’m subscribed to around 100 or so LiveJournals, Xangas, MySpaces, and blogs. Many just to keep up with friends and colleagues, some for industry (both writing or religious) news, some just to read other writers. Writing is a solitary pursuit and the blogosphere has allowed a sense of community by being our water cooler.

Continued in today's Blogging in Black.


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Pry My Lingerie from My Cold, Dead Hands

Michelle Kuntz, 36, Greenwood, said her store, XO Paradise, in Old Towne Greenwood will comply with a new city ordinance regulating the sale of sex toys, maintaining the controversy about her business was overblown from the start. "This is not an adult entertainment business," she said. "It has been misrepresented. No one was interested in clearing up any misunderstanding. It's just wrong how this was handled."

The Greenwood City Council passed an ordinance Monday night prohibiting businesses from selling sex toys without a license, after weeks of rumors about a racy store coming to the heart of the city.

I must live in the wrong neighborhoods. I’ve had lingerie shops right across the street from me. Granted, this is a far cry from when our crusading mayor cracked down and cleaned out all of strip clubs along Washington Street. However, I can see trying to nip a problem before it gets too out of hand.

I’m actually all for “community standards” by the way. I don’t think they have to be cloaked under the umbrella excuse of “we’re doing it for the children” (as “such businesses may not be closer than 1,000 feet from another such business or to schools, churches, day-care facilities, parks or residences.”). Do it because it needs to be done. However, let’s not stop there. My neighborhood has a liquor store on every corner. I’m much more worried about the “elements” they attract than a lingerie shop. I rarely see groups of men standing on street corners clutching nighties and talking crazy. I rarely see folks checking into rehab for push up bra fixation.

Here’s the thing: I’m a horror writer. A lot of what my genre does is push the boundaries. What people forget is that for boundaries to be pushed, someone has to set the boundaries. Which was why I wasn’t up in arms over the fallout from Janet Jackson’s Boob-gate. Sometimes it’s nice for that line to be pulled in a bit lest we get carried away with our own excesses. Excess tends to bring out the inner hack in all of us.

Someone has to fight these battles, I’m just glad it’s not me. There are just as many things to fight for as well as takes stands against, and I’d rather be defined by what I’m for. Until then, we need licenses for guns, so why not bras? And remember kids, when you outlaw lingerie, only outlaws will have lingerie. Or something like that.


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Thanksgiving Announcements

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m thankful for friends, family, my church, my job, my readers, and my health. I try to live my life being grateful every day, so this holiday offers me only the occasion to be thankful for a day off. So rather than do some holiday themed blog, I got a couple of announcements:

1) I got around to having my website updated. By “I” I mean Deena Warner stepped in and bailed out my “the Internet works by magic”, techno-oblivious self. Among the updates, I have finally posted the footage from Mo*Con I, which means you can now see Brian Keene’s sermon as well as a reading and Q&A time. It’s on the photos page of my site.

2) I was interviewed by Taylor Kent AKA the Snark Avenger as a guest for his podcast Snark Infested Waters to talk about ministry and horror and Christian horror and stuff. You can find my interview here. You might as well keep the site bookmarked: next week it’s Angeline Hawkes and Christopher Fulbright.


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More Random Love Day - MySpace Friends

To all of my friends, you can quit writing and calling me asking for me to not write about you in my columns. Honestly, you don’t do much that is all that interesting anyway. Memo to my other friends, I’m not doing random shout outs. Much.

Random MySpace love for StoryTeller Shannon and Momowilly (buy her book - she likes it when I say that)

My girl, Jen Orosel. Much love for Brian Knight. Fran Friel. Why? Because everyone loves Fran. Buy their books.

And a couple non-MySpace friends: Dan Bush. No, you don’t know him, but I’m contractually obligated to say his name every so often and declare my manly affection for him. My friend Michelle (who won’t be reading this anyway). It’s her fault I do random “I love you” days. Yay Snoopy Pillow!

My new INtake column is up, “Taking Life Bird by Bird.”


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Stranger Than Fiction

“God has a Woman’s Voice”

Usually when you start hearing voices, even voices that just narrate your life, it’s not a good sign. That’s the dilemma in which Harold Crick finds himself in the movie Stranger Than Fiction. We always hold our breath when an actor known for their comedic roles decides to show their versatility by doing a dramatic turn. While there is nothing sadder than the tears of a clown, Will Farrell plays Harold Crick almost too straight and doesn’t get to do much with his character. However, in this cross between The Truman Show and Adaptation, what could have been a one-trick movie becomes a nicely layered, and easily watched, bit of pop confection.

“If you knew you were going to die, possibly soon, what would you do?” –Harold

Harold Crick, think Walter Mitty without the imagination, is a man trapped by the routine (and loneliness) of his life. He’s an IRS agent who is great at his job and loves it, counting the minutiae of his day (from tooth brush strokes to steps) while living by the dictates of his wristwatch. That is, until he starts to hear the voice of a woman narrating his life. The woman turns out to be reclusive novelist, Karen Eiffel (Emma Thompson), who is planning on killing her character creation, poor Harold, but hasn’t settled on how. Thus, our hero sets out on a journey, with the help from his guide, Professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman) to find the Narrator of his life while figuring out what it means to truly live.

“I’m somehow involved in some sort of story, like I’m a character in my own life.” –Harold

Often we are so wrapped up in our own stories that we miss the opportunities of life. The interruption of other people, the significant and mundane moments that make up life. Sometimes we get a sense that we are caught up in some sort of narrative; maybe we connect with story because we’re a part of a grand story of God meeting us where we are–messy and broken–and wooing us back to him. God speaks into our precise and ordered lives, as the Author of the Story. Our spiritual journey is about becoming in tune with our (ultimate) story and the voice of our Narrator.

We want to know our Narrator.

Harold had tested the words of the narrator and found them true, thus bolstering his faith in the very existence of that narrator. He doesn’t know who, or what, this narrator is, but he trusts, because that narrator had been right about so much of his life already. Maybe, like Harold, having tested our Narrator, we want to find him and better understand who we are, who he is, and what he would have us do. Because our individual stories are connected.

“The only way to know what story you’re in is to figure out what stories you’re not in.” –Professor Hilbert

Questions will always help us on our journey, questions to uncover the truth about the Narrator. Like Job confronting God, we have questions that we’d always wanted to ask our Author, but we may not be able to. It helps to have guides, maybe scholars like Professor Hilbert, to help us better shape our questions or point us in the right directions. However, some questions will leave us crying in futility to the heavens, because we don’t like the answers, like when Harold asks “you’re asking me to knowingly face my Death?” our puzzled, yet hopeful seeker Harold asks. The answer is “yes;” life is lived in light of death. Ultimately, the questions and the answers come back to the Book, the Story of our faith.

“The hero dies, but the story lives on forever.” –Professor Hilbert

“A story about a man who’s unaware that he’s about to die. If he knows he’s going to die and chooses to die anyway, isn’t that the kind of man you want to keep alive?” Karen has to ask herself, unaware of how she sums up Christ’s own journey within his narrated story. Death imbues life with meaning and gives eternal consequences to our actions. When we understand the Story, we live in light of the Story, though maybe if we could see the whole story we’d finally, fully appreciate the Story and our place in it.

Harold: It’s not a story to me. It’s my life.
Hilbert: Absolutely. So live the one you’ve always wanted.

We all have our callings and talents that we can use to make the world a better place. From numbers to cooking, the most important thing is to keep your eyes open for opportunities to be a blessing to each other. To live life as you were meant to, fully human, where even the mundane and ordinary have meaning.

Stranger Than Fiction is a moral tale, almost a fable, about the interconnectivity of humanity, the inevitability of Death, and the passionate ties between Author, Character, and the Story. It’s a thought provoking film that could have been a great movie had it committed to its ending (thus touching on one of its themes with the artist’s responsibility to their art). Instead, it compromises by going for a “happy” ending and thus became merely a really good and intelligent movie. Yeah, we have way too many of those.


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Random Love Day - First Readers

Readers are what all writers want, but an invaluable asset to a writer is their first reader. My wife is not my first reader because she’s not much of a reader. I’m a member of a few writer’s groups and they are a mixed bag at best when it comes to critiques, though they usually come into the game late in the revision process. Which is why I’m thankful for my first readers.

I mostly depend on two: Lauren David and John C. Hay. Both are writers as well as voracious, two handy traits in your first readers. They each have different strengths or rather, I look to each of them for something different. Lauren isn’t a genre reader (or writer or fan). So she approaches the story with an unjaundiced eye, strictly about the story, the characters, the dialogue, internal consistencies, and how well the story works. John is my grammar Nazi and history nerd. If I get one more lecture from him about my overuse of gerunds ...

Did I mention that everyone should have first readers like these?

John lives a few states away, however, I refer to John’s critiques (in love) as the “anal exam”. Oh yeah, he reaches up into my story and gives me ... notes. Never have I hated a Microsoft word feature more than their notes. I was ecstatic when a story I sent him came back with only 17 notes (that story was immediately sent out). However, I’m never giving him a novella again: it came back with enough notes to be their own short story. So part of me lives in fear of the John crit, the other have gets anxious for them [thus he’ll get gmail chats (I don’t care that your message says *Busy*), emails, or a phone call]. Still, he’s spared Lauren’s reading experience.

I sit across from her, pretending to read something else. I check when she laughs (I keep a hash mark count of how many pages she’s turned), note when she grimaces and make sure that she’s doing each at the right places. I time how long she lingers on a page because it might be poorly written or the pace stalling her interest. And her every cough or shift is met with “is everything okay?”

I remember the days when I used to think that I crapped gold and anything I wrote was God’s gift to literature. Now, thankfully, things have gotten to the point where I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my first readers. They are the first faces of my eventual audience and they will openly mock me if I don’t bring my best game. First readers, good first readers, are invaluable. When you find them, treasure them. (Back off! These two are mine!!!) And be sure to bribe them often.

I’m off on a Starbucks run for Lauren as soon as I post.


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But My Best Friend is Black

Digital is forever.

We live in a digital age. There are cameras on street corners, at ATM machines, in our cell phones - our images caught who knows how many times per day and that’s without our knowledge. How much more so when we are on stage, in front of a crowd, a crowd that has turned against you when you decide to show your behind. If things you say on the Internet are there forever and can’t be unsaid, much moreso a recorded image. Like any other screen captured image, it’s on someone’s hard drive, waiting.

Hello Michael Richards.

You were bombing in a comedy club, some folks began to heckle you. Rather than go with any of a number of standard anti-heckler lines (that most stand ups carry in their back pockets), you go to the “you’re a nigger” card. How many times do we have to go over the fact that there are certain things you can’t say? Don’t give me “if he was Chris Rock or Dave Chappelle,” he isn’t. (If you want a blog on “the N-Word,” I’ll direct you to a post by Wrath James White.) Nor was he attempting to illustrate a point or create satire. No, he was bombing on a stage and lost his mind. But you know what? Losing one’s temper, being drunk, or whatever the latest excuse is for someone’s “I’m not a racist but here’s my tirade” rant, the stuff has to come from somewhere. If you go to that place, that well of hate–especially with the vehemence and contempt that some folks go there–at some level, you believe it.

Luckily, he apologized. Whew! Good thing he did that, I might have thought he was racist. Apologies are becoming a tough sell with me lately, especially celebrity apologies, and they especially ring hollow if the person apologizing is a repeat offender. Contrition is tough to gauge because when all is said and done, we can’t know what’s in another person’s heart. However, it’s going to take a while before I buy his apology. Granted, his career isn’t necessarily over, because he is well on his way toward Hollywood penitence: you screw up, you apologize (going on the circuit of late night talk shows; Oprah if you’re lucky), go into rehab (if applicable - maybe a good anger management) or otherwise lay low for awhile. Time heals a lot and our memories are notoriously short. On the whole, we as a country are pretty forgiving, but you have to show contrition or somehow demonstrate that you’re trying to change.

You have the right to say what you want. You also better be prepared to bear the consequences of you running your mouth, wherever you run it. You also have the right to apologize; howefver, we have the choice to forgive and I doubt anyone will forget. Because digital is forever.


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Holding My Son’s Hand

I imagine it will be tough to let go of my kids (my countdown clock aside). To get to that stage where I stop worrying, to stop thinking of them as my kid and let them be the adults they are one day supposed to be.

I’ve been thinking a lot about fathers and sons.

Every day I pick my oldest son up from school (which I like better because I kept forgetting him at the bus stop when the bus used to drop him off). Every day we hold hands when we leave, as he waves good-bye to friends, as we cross the road getting to our car.

I tell him that I like holding his hand and that one day he’ll consider himself to be too big. One day he won’t let me hold his hand in public, he won’t let me stroke his hair when he’s resting, he won’t let me be seen with him in public because I’ll be embarrassing (to which he said “I know” and little too quickly). Actually, his younger brother already is done: at 4, he’s “too big” to hold my hand.

Yep, my oldest is only in kindergarten, but I’m going to miss holding his hand.

Like most parents, I worry about what kind of men they are going to be and how best to train them to be the kind of men they ought to be. When I think about my own father, I think about how easy it is for children to point to the faults of their parents. We’re human, a smorgasbord of failings, but we try the best we can. However, my father was at least there for us and he loved us as best he could. So I’m reminded by the simple power of presence. Of being there to listen and talk to my children and I worry a little less about possibly screwing them up, despite my worst antics, because being there is most of the battle. Holding their hands when I’m able and when they’ll let me.

So I’m going to miss holding my son’s hand. Probably as much as my dad misses holding mine.

Today’s his birthday. Happy birthday, dad.


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Guarding Yourself

In Christ we have freedom, yet we keep choking it off with our own brands of legalism. “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” (Galatians 5:1) We don’t trust freedom and we certainly aren’t comfortable with this whole idea of liberation. Most people want to be told, they want the black and white picture and hate (or at least distrust) anything that smacks of gray. That’s why there is such a comfort to rules and why fundamentalism has its draw. We have this fear of ourselves, of others, of community and church, and of the unknown. We definitely have this fear of taking chances and making mistakes.

So what does it mean to be “in the world but not of the world”? Practically speaking, the answer to this question has been a form of isolationism prevalent in too many Christian circles. A quasi-monk lifestyle with the church as some sort of abbey, which if people truly practiced monastic lifestyles and lived in monastic communities, I’d be cool with. Instead what we get is this us vs. them mentality (as we cut ourselves off from any one or thing that may “taint” us with their “worldliness”) and Christian ghettos (where everything we do or participate in has to have the adjective “Christian” in front of it: “Christian” music, “Christian” karate, “Christian” candy, etc.).

Actually, it doesn’t matter what my answer to this question is because I’m going to take a stab at addressing I think what is at the heart of what people “really” mean when they start tossing that phrase around. So let’s phrase the question in a way that expresses the heart of our concern as we go about trying to lead missional lives: “how can we protect ourselves, our own spiritual integrity, while still functioning within the world?”

The big, and valid, concern is one of influences. The fear that we will get caught up in stuff that will throw us from our Christian walks, messy or not, and derail us from a life of pursuing holiness. We don’t live in a vacuum. We’ve been given guidelines and parameters (the Bible describes itself as being “useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness” (II Timothy 3:16). While there is great freedom in Christ, we can’t just do whatever you feel like doing. And frankly, we won’t always get why there are certain restrictions. We won’t don’t always understand why we have to study and pray, for example, but hopefully our understanding comes in our participation.

All this to give you three tips in “guarding yourself. One, know your truth. Keep returning to that well of knowledge. It is the discipline of believers. We must constantly immerse ourselves in Scriptures not just for remembrance of God, but also to remember who we are and why we do whatever we do. Two, think for yourselves. Think through your faith, your beliefs, and keep stretching yourselves. In other words, keep asking questions. One of the hardest things for pastors and teachers to do is train their people how to critically think. Three, know your limits. When Christians ask me “how can you be around all of that horror stuff?” one of the presumptions is that reading/writing horror is one step on the path to the occult. (I guess we glorify the occult, make it fascination, and then little Johnny goes off to worship Satan.) Yeah, well the occult has no hold over and little interest for me outside of crafting a story. That will happen when you come from a family of obeah practitioners. So I have no problem being the “sinister minister.” However, you won’t see me being a part of the xxxchurch ministry. You get me within sniffing distance of them and I’d give Ted Haggerty a scandal target to shoot for.

Here’s the thing, we can’t live in fear of “the world”. We’ve been given a mission and have a job to do. A job that doesn’t always allow us to remain “safe” and “comfortable.” Either we believe that we have the Holy Spirit to guide and protect us or we don’t. For some, that may mean a time within the protective bubble of the Christian ghetto. However, that doesn’t mean stay there.


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Friday Night Date Place - You Burning? Part II*

Last week we left off with an important question. If you are in a committed relationship, one with a mix of the friendship, commitment, and attraction kinds of love, then why do you have to wait until you’re married to have sex? The flippant (though equally valid) answer would be if you are already in that kind of relationship, why AREN’T you married? However, let’s examine this from a Biblical point of view.

It's not solely a matter of here's a verse that says don't have pre/extra-marital sex, so don't do it. You'd be surprised how often that doesn't get very far with people. However, again, I’ll address the issue of what the Bible has to say, or not say, on the topic of extra-marital sex from a couple of different tacks.

Time and time again, I’ve been told that the Bible isn’t clear on the whole issue of premarital sex or heard “I’ve been taught that all my life, but I don’t see it for myself”. We’ll ignore the fact that most of Christian tradition has always taught this, but for those clinging to the hypermodernist/ “truth is how I see it for myself” paradigm, let’s see if there is an overarching theme to what the Bible has to say about sex.

We’ll start at the beginning, the book of Genesis to be precise. The story of the perfect creation order, life how it was supposed to be. God performs the first marriage service (Genesis 2:23), then concludes by saying “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24). I guess “one flesh” is the closest rendering of “they get to boning.” Continuing and expanding on the idea of what “one flesh” means, we tie it to a New Testament passage”

“There's more to sex than mere skin on skin. Sex is as much spiritual mystery as physical fact. As written in Scripture, "The two become one." Since we want to become spiritually one with the Master, we must not pursue the kind of sex that avoids commitment and intimacy, leaving us more lonely than ever—the kind of sex that can never "become one." There is a sense in which sexual sins are different from all others. In sexual sin we violate the sacredness of our own bodies, these bodies that were made for God-given and God-modeled love, for "becoming one" with another.” I Corinthians 6:16-18 (The Message)

The reason this I Corinthians passage is so important is because it sets the context for the verse that brought us here in the first place: “But if they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” (I Corinthians 7:9). Why was chapter 7 written? Because there was so much sexual immorality running rampant. You can talk about cultural contexts all you want, but we’re talking about our nature’s. Men didn’t start trying to hump every hole we could in the 60s.

"Porneia" is the word translated as "sexual immorality". Originally it meant the practice of consorting with prostitutes, but it came to mean habitual immorality. Porneia includes adultery (Matthew 5:32, 19:9), incest (I Corinthians 5), prostitution (I Corinthians 6), the “burning” (I Corinthians 7). It includes pederasty (I Timothy 1:9-10). Porneia, therefore, is the idea of fornication or any kind of extra-marital sexual relations. In its most general sense, it covers all types of sexual sin between male and female. In some passages, usually when Paul is listing various characteristics that we are to excise from our lives, "sexual immorality" is expanded on by words like "impurity" or "lust". The word that translates as "impurity" has a broader reference since it includes uncleanness in thought, word, and act. "Pathos", the word for "lust", essentially means feeling, though in the New Testament it is used to denote uncontrolled desire.

Actually, I may be wasting my breath with some folks. I think most people, Christian or not, they get that the Bible must teach something along the lines of “no sex before marriage.” My thought was that, especially for Christians, if you weren’t seeing it, it was because you were choosing not to see. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, I’ll have encountered someone who “questioned” the idea of the Bible’s teaching on a particular subject. Nine times out of ten, they didn’t really question it, they just wanted to do it. “I’m on a truth journey ... to justify what I want to do.” It was frustrative because I usually felt like they were actually going backwards, being fundamentalist, if I have to break down chapter and verse for them. However, I remember talking to Lauren Winner (author of Real Sex: The Naked Truth About Chastity) about how the church isn’t teaching on sex correctly, IF they talk about it at all. Which means there is a lot of work to have to do in this area of our spiritual development.

Sex is also about spiritual formation (What? Sex as spiritual formation? That's a discipline I can get behind!). It's about the kind of person you are wanting to be. Fidelity (in marriage) is hard. Chastity (in singleness) is tough. Sex is relational and not about your own gratification. We forget that disciplined and sanctified behavior shape us toward Christlikeness, even as undisciplined, do as we please behavior, train us in habits and behaviors that stick with us even once we're married. This also offers insight into how to face temptations of all kinds: combat illegitimate desires by substituting legitimate ones.

Sex isn’t cheap and there is a sacred dimension to it. So, yes, as the two of you become more intimately involved, heading towards the fruition of your “burning” for one another, talk about life plans and move toward marriage. While the ceremony is important, it is about the witness of community. Marriage itself isn’t about the ceremony. We forget the word covenant when it comes to describing the ceremony, and that’s what the marriage bed is about. The covenant commitment between two people. Becoming one flesh is the seal of that covenant.

Your problem may be that you want to seal everything you meet. Don’t make me finish my blog called “masturbation theology.”


*For the record, the alternate title of this blog was “I’m Still Horny!”


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Genre Fanfic, Genre Ghettos

I am not a fan of horror. I didn’t grow up reading it and to this day haven’t read a whole lot of it. The more time I spend in the genre, the more I feel like I’m playing catch up to even know the important works of what came before me. I am barely conversant with who my own peers are. Sometimes I think it was for the best.

There has been a lot of talk lately of horror ghettos and genre fanfic. It has finally crystallized something that has been bugging me about the stories and critiques I have been getting from some of the members of the various writers groups I belong to. They are fans of the genre, and by fans I mean they work and expectations can be fairly derivative, little more than fanfic appreciation.

The critical commentary and dialogue inherent in genre fiction–assessing and responding to the work of the previous generation–is absolutely necessary, yet it is just as necessary to provide points by which the mainstream can access genre. –Dave Klecha

While there isn’t anything wrong with fanfic unto itself, the legal and moral implications aside (I’m a recent convert to the position that it does serve some good and can be useful as a writing exercise), the genre can’t advance while chasing its own tail. What I suspect is going on is that there is a lot of trying to recreate the same stories/feelings “we” experienced when “we” first fell in love with the genre. However, chasing first loves is like chasing ghosts: dreams of what were, when in fact they never were.

The conventions of genre become mistaken for the content of the story ... The genre readers and writers become more locked into the conventions of the genre and the general readers become more put off by what they (rightly perceive) as a rigid and increasingly empty ritual dance of conventions. –Janrae Frank

Okay, a lot of this is re-hashing what I was saying on the “what is horror?” panel at Context 19 as I was griping about the lack of experimentation going on in the bulk of horror. We seem to be content to play with the tropes of what make up the “genre” as opposed to experimenting with what the genre can do and offer. Too often we go for the “boo” and too seldom examine our culture, our ideas, our spirituality in the language of the genre. So when Jay Lake posits that in science fiction “we consider ourselves the literature of ideas, and a repeated idea is much harder to make interesting,” the gauntlet should be thrown down for horror also. We too should be “heavily invested in permanent novelty-seeking.” That is, if we are truly interested in growing our pool of readers.

Believe me, that accusing finger points at me first. As does the challenge.


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Wagers

Lately I’ve been contemplating what it means to have a truly theocentric worldview. I guess my worldview starts with the premise that life is either meaningless or it’s not; that I either matter or I am insignificant, random, or an accident. Of course most of the "questions" boil down to faith. Faith that there may not be any (satisfactory) answers. Faith that there may not be answers we would understand. And faith to trust God in the not knowing while we muddle our way through things.

Faith gives meaning to existence, which isn’t to say that I/we as Christians hold the patent on true faith. There are many different kinds of faith: faith in God, faith in man, faith in (your)self, and so on. Correct me if I’m wrong (and I know you will), but I assume that nihilists would say that we flee to the idea of God as a cop out because we can’t handle imagining a life without Him. He is our existential crutch in a meaningless life.

Just like I think that each of those faiths still have the problem of evil, I’m left with some other questions if life is meaningless. If I have nothing but this life, why should I be selfless? Why should I be sacrificial? Why should I be concerned about other people? We only have a momentary chance to “go for ours” and there is little benefit (evolutionarily speaking) to living for others (tribe, species, or what have you).

A recurring comment since my discussions fleshing out what the Bible may or may not be saying on premarital sex has been why? Going with that question, why stop there? Why restrict yourself in any area of your life? Eat what you want. Drink what you want. Both are valid, necessary, and vital drives, why not do as much of either as you want? As I study what it means to be a Christian, I am struck by this pattern of a (holistic) lifestyle of restraint. Christian living seems to be one of denying oneself in all areas of your life, learning discipline.

I believe that we, as Christians, lead lives of delayed gratifications with the ultimate belief that the supreme gratification comes with eternal fellowship and communion with God. However, again, that’s a matter of faith.


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People Interruptions: I Get It

I’m blessed to have a lot of smart ass people in my life.

Yes, it is always 4:00pm somewhere.

Now back away from your Microsoft Outlook calendar alarms. I love you, too.



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Intro to Al-Fitr

The world stopped for Emir Abdur Rahim in 1993. Actually, I knew him by a different name before he converted to Islam and yet our lives have followed parallel paths. For example, we both have found ourselves in positions of leadership in our respective religions despite our best efforts.

I am a proponent of prisons, as punishment as well as a place for rehabilitation. However, far too often in practice, it ends up dehumanizing most people - nobody ought to be able to put you in prison, torture you, and diminish your capacity for forming social relationships.

And I hate the way Muslims are generally branded. As Christians, we hate it when the actions of a few define us as a whole. Be it scandals (money or sex) or fundamentalists (protests, hate-filled pronouncements, or other acts of extremism), we fight to make sure those things don’t become our public face. As Black people, we hate how we are often depicted on television or movies, portrayed in the news, or portrayed in hip-hop.

So one reason why Abdur and I came together was to engage in conversations, but it also reminded me that religion without transformation is worthless. That when the church is not doing its job of making disciples and transforming lives, one of the consequences is people left without a sense of community (and them seeking to find it wherever they can). When prisons don’t offering much by way of redemptive rehabilitation, it leads to recidivism.

All this to say here’s my latest INtake article. “Celebrating Al-Fitr.”

SIDE NOTE: I guess I’ve just switched to the latest version of blogger. Apologies for the random blogs that keep popping up in my LiveJournal and Bloglines feeds.


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People Interruptions

I’m not an overly social person.

This should surprise no one: I’m a writer. I tell people that I’m a “pastor” who hates people. I agree with whoever said that cons are 72 hours of a bunch of introverts pretending to be extroverts. However, I don’t always have the luxury to indulge my need for space and quiet.

When we got married, my wife and I decided that we didn’t want to be one of those married couples that withdrew from all of their friends (especially the single ones). So we decided on an open door policy for our friends. They can come over and eat, do laundry, use the wifi, or even ... interrupt me with their need to talk.

My children don’t get that “daddy’s in a mood” or has to get work done. They need me to feed them. Now. Then need me to fix them a drink. Now. They need me to beat the next level of Super Mario World. Now.

While my wife does get that her husband is moody, she has declared that that is my problem, not hers.

*sigh*

In the greater scheme of things, interruptions are the point of life. The things and people that interrupt us are the reason why we’re here. I just wish people would respect my new office hours.*





*You now have from 4:00 pm to 4:30 pm to interrupt my life with yours.


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Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

“A Stranger in a Strange Land”

Kazakhstan greatest country in the world.
All other countries are run by little girls.
Kazakhstan number one exporter of potassium.
Other countries have inferior potassium.

If the title of this movie or the “lyrics” of the Kazakhstan national anthem (especially great when sung to the tune of America’s national anthem) don’t have you at least mildly intrigued, then you probably won’t get a lot of the dumb/smart humor going on in the movie Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. However, miss this one and you will be missing one of the hands down funniest movies in years. And I’m going to do my best not to spoil any of it for you.

While the movie may seem like a Ken Burns documentary filmed in someone’s basement on a lunch money budget, it is the mostly improvised road movie about a man on a quest. Borat Sagdiyev (Sacha Baron Cohen) is a television personality in his desperately poor and somewhat backwards (though gloriously proud) home of Kazakhstan. He goes off to the desperately wealthy and equally somewhat backwards (and gloriously proud) country of America to learn from its customs and bring home lessons for his people to learn.

I was unfamiliar with Sacha Baron Cohen’s work on Da Ali G. Show (Borat, the ever horny, cringingly bigoted, yet strangely likeable reporter, was one of his three character creations from the show). Yet Borat, along with his sidekick, Azamat Bagatov (Ken Davitian), become the perfect mirror to observe how outsiders perceive and are perceived by America(ns).

“We nearly died last night. This journey is cursed.” –Azamat

America has not always been kind in its treatment of “the other.” Borat, as the ultimate “other,” offers often biting commentary on how we treat “the other.” No one ever thinks of their own customs and ways as unusual unless they go outside of their culture or, in this case, have someone outside of their culture thrust into their lives. Borat comes to America and tries to understand our humor, tries to understand our culture (including our predilection for Pamela Anderson), tries to grasp how we view and treat women all the while poking fun at all aspects of our culture. From him being long on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd (how many people recalled Chris Rock’s joke about MLK Blvd and thought “RUN!”?) to his poor attempts to learn our etiquette in order to dine with high society circles, Borat leaves no one, none of our stereotypes and own backwards characters, unskewered or undermined.

“Hey, fuck off, Death.” –Borat

Borat is on his version of the hero’s journey, not just of discovery, but to claim his true love. In so doing, the movie also offers a sly commentary on religion. When Borat hits rock bottom, he experiences a rebirth via “Mr. Jesus” (although, many good “Christians” step over him in order to get into church before he stumbles in later). It is his encounter with the spiritual that renews him in order for him to continue his journey as he learns the power of forgiveness. As a part of forgiving others, Azamat and Pamela included, he even realizes that even those who hurt us are capable of much good.

“If you chase a dream, especially those with a plastic chest, you can miss the real beauty in front of your eyes.” –Borat

Not everyone is going to get Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, with its humor designed to make people uncomfortable, but it is a movie one has to experience for themselves. Doubtlessly some will be offended (thank God for the judicious, though awfully complimentary, use of a black bar during the nude wrestling scene). However, no one can say that the movie wasn’t one of the most original comedies to come down the pike in a long time. For that alone we should be grateful, that is, if it wasn’t also a side-straining hilarious movie. I guess this means that we may have a Bruno movie to look forward to. “High Five!”


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Mother Grove Interview

Brad Sprauer, lead vocalist and song-writer for Mother Grove has come a long way since we shared a place and screamed Public Enemy lyrics at one another. Their song “All Right" remains at # 2 on Celtic Radio and their song, "The Ballad of Miles O'Toole," has moved to #4! So I thought that I would poke around in Brad’s brain for a bit.

Tell me a little bit about how you guys got together. What does the name Mother Grove mean?

Mother Grove came together at a Christmas party back in 2000. I was working on shopping a demo of my originals to form a standard rock band and met Gary Booth. He said, "I'm a bagpiper" to which I thought "Oh yea? Uh, that's nice". He proceeded to fully educate me on the merits and originality of Celtic rock including handing me a fistful of Celtic Rock CDs. After the first listen I immediately heard my songs with the Celtic instrumentation. And the rest, as they say, is history.

The name, "Mother Grove" is a Druid reference. Druidism (or Druidry) is an ancient religion of the Celtic Isles, specifically Ireland and Scotland. A "grove" of druids is basically a group, or a congregation. The "Mother Grove" is a more modern word meaning a gathering of several groves who work together. I suppose it's like an archdiocese. The name evokes the ancient Celtic but yet sounds cool enough to work in the modern age. So many Celtic bands try to name themselves some Gaelic word that looks cool and has some cool meaning, but is impossible to pronounce, which is like #1 in the list of 101 worst marketing ideas.

Why Celtic rock? What led you down that musical vein?

I’ve always wanted to do something a bit different. The typical rock outfit has been played out for me. I’ve always like bands with different instrumentations outside of the “standard approved rock instruments”. It really allows you to be more creative and think outside of the box a bit. Bagpipes are loud, in your face and unmistakable in sound. Who needs a screaming electric guitar when you have bagpipes?! No one can deny their presence. The energy they lend to the music is awesome. Fiddles are more of the yin to the pipes yang. They’re beautifully melodic and really balance out the energy of the music. Plus they’re versatile. Many bands have violins/fiddles but the styles of the players and the songwriting lend themselves to fit in with any song. We’re an original rock band first and foremost, and then we’re a Celtic rock band.

You write a lot of your own music. What drives you to write? What is the passion that drives you?

The passion is the drive to create art, to make the listener “feel”; no matter what feeling that is, just evoking emotion. When someone tells me a particular songs moves them or touches them in a certain way, that’s success to me. It’s wonderful to know that something I created can make someone happy or feel any number of emotions. It sounds a bit selfish, aye? It’s actually quite the opposite; I see it as a gift to give away. Once a song is out there, it’s not mine anymore. It’s like a child, you help create the child, help her grow and eventually she goes off to live her own life.

The way I explain the need to create, is pretty simple; just like everyone needs to eat and breathe to survive, I need to create. It’s not really an option. If I couldn’t create I’d be locked up or in a nice cozy padded cell somewhere. I’ve learned over the years that it’s at the core of many issues in my life. If I go too long without writing, I get very cranky, disoriented and sometimes even become physically ill. The Buddhists say: “speak to the mind and the body will listen.” It’s very true for me. Music, writing, creating is the ultimate therapy…and much cheaper.

My method of song-writing is probably a bit different than most. I can’t sit down and say, “Today I’m going to write a song about…” it just doesn’t happen that way. I like the song to evolve and appear on its own. Sort of like automatic writing, but the catalyst is the music. I’ll start playing chords and just humming or scatting random words or phrases and eventually I’ll come up with a line or two. Once I have that foundation, the rest of the song sort of writes itself. You won’t hear many storytelling songs from me; it’s mostly like free verse poetry with a very loose theme. It’s all about the metaphor. 10 people can listen to the same song and get 10 different meanings out it and they can all be right.

Occasionally the song will be about an event or a topic; for instance; the song “Kiss You Goodbye” was written just after 9/11. But I didn’t want to make this “rah rah, kick ass USA” song or some sappy, sad ballad about loss. I wanted it to have different perspectives; the victims, the perpetrators and the soldiers. I wanted to make it human, to make people think beyond the knee-jerk, “us against them” mentality. So that song is an exception. Love songs are another exception, even though they’re more often metaphorical, they are inspired and written specifically for my wife…who by the way is my ultimate muse. I’ve written more songs since meeting her than I can remember.

Oh, and magnetic poetry. Some crazy stuff has been written with the help of those little guys. I keep them on a big cookie sheet so I can take it from room to room with my notebook and spread them out without losing any words. I have like 4 sets that I rotate in and out.

There do seem to be a lot of spiritual themes in your music. In your live shows you perform a verse of Amazing Grace. Is this a "bagpipes are expected to play 'Amazing Grace'" thing or is there a greater meaning behind this? Can you talk a bit about your faith?

You know, I’ve been through an incredible, wonderful ride with my spirituality. Right now I’m in the most comfortable place I’ve ever been spiritually. I was raised Catholic and was immersed in non-denominational Christianity for many, many years and it served me very well for those times in my life. I have nothing but fond memories of my spiritual growth as a Christian. But now I feel I’ve moved beyond any religion. I can read any sacred text, sit in any temple or church, participate in any ritual and gain an immense amount of peace and spirituality from them. I take the good, the common elements and teachings from every path and incorporate it into my daily life and personal philosophy. The biggest thing is, I’ve removed any need to answer the unanswerable questions (I have four of them: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where do we go when we die? Is there a god?). On a day-to-day, live your life, interact with others world we don’t really need to pontificate on the origins of the universe, the validity of any particular deity, or the proper way to worship him or her. It’s really unnecessary. It really forces me to focus on the things we have in common as human beings; we all feel love, anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness; each and every one of us. I know that it feels good to have someone smile at me, or hug me, or tell me they love me. It doesn’t matter if they believe in God, Krishna, Buddha, or a rock that keeps away zombies. All that matters is we’ve connected as human beings and learned to live in peace; period. Adding the supernatural, the focus on the unanswerable, eternal salvation (or damnation) only serves to keep us further apart as humans. Most of the songs on our last 3 CDs deal with this kind of spirituality. If you look at the lyrics to our first CD “Listen to Your Mother” they were all written when I was a devout Christian. I even performed most all of theses songs in churches long before Mother Grove came about. But even then, they’re pretty metaphorical. By the time we recorded the CD, I had moved beyond the Christian themes of the songs. I was asked if I wanted to re-write the lyrics to reflect my new stage of spirituality. That was unthinkable. Those songs are snapshots of where I was at that time and there was no way I was going to take away the message and the sentiment behind them. Especially if they could help someone gain inspiration or insight into their own path…no matter what path that may be.

This is spirit in which we perform “Amazing Grace”; togetherness, everyone knows the song and is moved by it in some way or another. Plus Laura our fiddler can belt out the tune like nobody’s business. It’s like a tent revival every time we perform it. She’s a preacher’s kid and very strong in her Christina faith, so with all the eclectic spiritual and pagan themes in our music, we’re all about balance, diversity and equality.

And yes, there’s some sort of unwritten law that if a bagpiper is present, Amazing Grace must be performed.

How does your faith impact your music?

I think music is my faith. At the core of faith is trust. Music has proven herself trustworthy to me. I know that after a performance I’m going to feel spiritually high. I know that after I write a song, I’m going to feel peacefully satisfied; I know that I can communicate with anyone through the language of music. Music is at the heart of humanity, so there is really no difference between faith, spirituality, religion and music. It’s like the Native American way; everything is religion and religion is everything.

What message do you want to convey to audience? What do you want your audience to go home thinking or feeling?

Pure joy. I want to bring a crowd to their crescendo, then take them a little higher, then leave them smiling and satisfied. When a crowd is responsive and there’s this exchange of energy, it’s truly spiritual. Call it what you will, but THAT’S religion to me. I just want to know that what I’ve just given them, makes them happy, or makes them feel, or think or just forget about everything else for awhile and live in the moment, the music and sharing in the collective joy.


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Mother Grove “Live at Dublin Pub”

“You gotta breathe in life gotta taste the air/Gotta feel the earth beneath you see the beauty everywhere/Gonna be my brother, gonna be my friend/Gonna leave the fear behind you and listen from within” –Beltane

My big fear about listening to Celtic rock groups is that I fear all of the music will sound like an Irish Spring commercial. With their fourth release, “Live at the Dublin Pub,” they attempt to capture the spirit and enthusiasm of their live show. Featuring songs from their previous CDs: Tri, Mother May I, and Listen to Your Mother, the live CD is like a one stop sampler/introduction to the band.

Brad Sprauer’s impassioned, raspy vocals sounds like someone you’d want to go drinking with. Apparently some folks at the Dublin Pub in Dayton, Ohio agree. We only get hints of the banter that makes the MoGro live experience. There are songs they obviously enjoy playing more than others (“The Ballad of Miles O’Toole”) and songs that obviously mean a lot personally (“Amazing Grace”) - the songs that bookend the CD. They eschew the easy, pop crafted tunes that would play well for mainstream radio ears in favor of a more unique sound.

“We got a holy man trying to be a police man/We got a ways to go to cross the road.” –The Road

What they may lack in technical virtuosity and vocals, they make up for with heart and imagination. A mix of more romantic songs sit side-by-side with bar song sing-alongs. Also, there is a sense of humor to their music (there’s no other way to explain them yelling “Get jiggy with it” in the middle of a Celtic rock song).

“Sometimes we need faith to swallow whole/Sometimes we need/Sometimes we need/A will to carry home/ But I don't mind/I don't care no, I don't mind/Give me away/Give me peace to mask the pain/'Cause I will not follow man's - Great Religion/You've got to believe in something/Or you'll fall for anything/Take some time to say, Hey/'Cause you're never obligated to the chains of earth/Just spread your mind and pray.”–Rev. Darwin

The album has the thread of a spiritual journey winding through it, reflecting a spiritual journey that we are all on and questions that we are all asking. The story, if there was a conscious story at the heart of the collection, examines modern expressions of religions (“The Road”); looks for connection within the human experience (“Beltane”); meditates on the mystery of falling in love (“As I Fall”); lives life in all of its excesses (“A Whiskey and a Friend”); tries on the idea of defining yourself in the story of your culture (“Listen to Your Mother”); finds answers, and the limits to those answers, in reason over man’s religion (“Rev. Darwin”); and ends with contemplating God and His grace (“Amazing Grace”).

On St. Patrick’s Day, everyone’s an honorary Irishman. Live at the Dublin Pub will help keep you in touch with your inner Irishman all year round. All Mother Grove needs now is the one break out album to reach that wider audience they deserve.


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Your Ideas Suck

“Their answer to the great question is different from ours ... Using logic and reason isn’t enough. You have to be a dick to everyone who doesn’t think like you.” –South Park

I’ve been dealing a lot with thoughts along the lines of “no idea is better than any other idea” or “who is to say what you believe is right?” I’d like to give the proponents of these feel good, squishy intellectualism the benefit of the doubt. I have plenty of people in my world dancing around the idea of moral relativism, but, I’m sorry, I believe there are bad ideas out there. And, wait for it, some people are just plain wrong.

However, since apparently no idea is any better than any other idea, I’m declaring that my ideas are better than your ideas. In fact, your ideas suck. Since I’ve come to your side of things, and I have to live with my worldview, let’s see what this means.

Nothing is ever good or evil, right or wrong. I mean, who is to say what is right or what is wrong. Sure, some people might say that this is an unliveable way to go through life. Life, in this paradigm, has no meaning. We have no standard to measure it by, nothing to judge whether things are good or bad, it’s just ... a life. A morally neutral, morally ambiguous, ultimately directionless life. If that is what existence has been boiled down for you, more power to you and your worldview. But your ideas suck.

Okay, this point of view is giving me a headache.

My position is that relativity only works in a universe of constants and absolutes, so by extrapolation, that there are absolute truths. I may be guilty of a kind of tent pole thinking, but I believe you have to have certain tent poles in your life and thought, to act as moorings. Saying that 2+2=4 because you don’t want to invalidate those people who may hold that 2+2=5 is, well, silly. There's a big difference in saying I respect your right to have that position and I accept that position.

If what these folks are getting at is simply for people to be more tolerant, graceful, or thoughtful, that’s one thing. They are probably reacting to dogma, fundamentalism, or absolutism. However, the answer is not relativism.

***And now a brief excuses into why postmodernism sometimes sucks***

I’m already on record saying that I’m uncomfortable with the postmodernist (read: hypermodernist) tendency to make all truth an individual truth, but truth (note the small ‘t’) does have perspective. And if you don’t think truth changes over time or within a given cultural context, once again, let’s look back at the theology of slavery.

However, there does seem to be this distrust of truth (and metanarratives) within postmodernism; replaced with a kind of radical subjectivism wherein truth or right is as you define it. It’s all a perspective of our own moral compass with no external objective reality. It’s individualism at its extreme - Descartes with a fresh veneer (“I think and that’s all I know”). Moreover, it smacks of merely being the opposite pendulum swing from the modern extreme of being a radical object in a world without subject.

This “truth according to me” position is also a withdrawal from community and opposes how we learn in the first place. Everything we know we know together. We’re born into family. We attend schools. Instead, it’s like we want an “all ME” trying to figure out the world without regard to any sense of tradition.

***Excursus over. Which isn’t to say that postmodernism isn’t a valid viewpoint. But sometimes it sucks***

True searchers of truth are rare. Be passionately engaged in the subjective aspects of life, walking by faith, living by faith. Live life on the edge of risk, trusting God in the darkness and silence. Many say that they want to grow, learn, search, and wrestle, when mostly what they want is to affirm their biases and justify their bad decisions. They're trying to argue that you can't tell who's right or who's wrong–a sudden and selective myopia–and I see that as an intellectually vacuous position. Which is a long way of saying that their ideas suck.


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Post-Election Blues

I didn’t end up voting.

I’m reminded of what Chris Roack said after the O.J. verdict: white people are too angry and black people are too happy. In this post-election furor, Democrats are too happy and Republicans are too angry. I guess that I’m tired of going to my mailbox looking for my “Democracy” prize.

That’s part of the blessings of freedom, that I can still check for my “Democracy” prize and still not care about the election.

This nation can survive which ever party gets in. If it can’t, we have too fragile a system. We “survived” President Clinton, we’ll “survive” President Bush. We “survived” a Democrat-ruled Congress. We “survived” a Republican-ruled Congress. We’ll “survive” another Democrat-ruled Congress. You know why? One, we love oppositional politics. Whenever the party of the Presidency and Congress are the same, we get a little nervous. Two, let’s face it, the differences between the parties aren’t much. The parties are more about consolidating their own power and beating the “other” guys than any real agenda.

From my vantage point, ideologically, Republicans have been driving the cart (or did no one notice how much of their agenda was pushed through under and by President Clinton) and the Democrats have no identity other than “at least we’re not them.” That’s supposed to get me up in the morning? (Memo to Democrats: say what you want, but Senator Hillary Clinton would give you an identity. Sure, she’d define you as hard left, but it’s be an identity. There’d be a legitimate debate about distinguishable agendas. I wouldn’t vote for her, but I’d enjoy the debate of ideas).

I am a person moved by ideas and no one made me care. I suppose I could’ve gone through the motions of participating in Democracy. I supposed I could’ve gone and voted a straight Republican ticket and been a cog in the political machine. However, the machine is fairly hopeless right now. I’m no political junkie, but as far as I can tell, the reason President Reagan is regarded as one of the greatest presidents of the recent era was his ability to stir people with a vision and give them hope. I don’t see anyone on the horizon who can do that (though, Republican or not, a Barack Obama/Evan Bayh ticket would make me vote Democrat).

Apathy really ought to be a political party. If anyone cared enough to organize us.

This has been yet another well thought out political half-rant.

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3 Lbs

“Pensees”

“Do you think in this business you have to have some glaring personality defect to be taken seriously as a genius?” Dr. Jonathan Singer (Mark Feuerstein) finds himself asking. That does seem to be the take home lesson of such hit shows like House, Bones, or Monk. It seems that we can’t get enough of medical shows, given the popularity of the aforementioned House as well as Grey’s Anatomy (even ER has found a renewed spark of life lately). Titled after the three pound lump of flesh we call our brain, 3 Lbs. is the latest entry.

Singer: “The brain is too mysterious.”
Hanson: “It’s wires in a box.”

Stanley Tucci plays the tortured and haunted Dr. Douglas Hanson, resident genius of Hanson Neuro. In full reptilian charm (“I am what I am” he says, quoting Popeye), it’s his first steady television work since the days of his short-lived runs on Bull and Murder One. Dr. Hanson sees the world as a logical place, an “all questions have answers” sort of worldview. However, he seems to be at the limits of this mindset.

Dr. Hanson is joined by his more metaphysical colleague, Dr. Jonathan Singer (Mark Feuerstein), the new fellow, “the sorcerer’s apprentice.” While navigating office politics, Dr. Singer is of the mindset that he has to know whose soul he’s bumping up against before he goes poking around in their brains.

“That’s the beauty of being human. There’s not another species for a billion miles that can make itself scared. We think too much.” Dr. Adrienne Holland (Indira Varma)

The uniqueness of man, to borrow from Pascal, is the great paradox of creation, capable of the highest grandeur and the worst misery. We have the ability to think and reflect, a rationality and the free will to make choices. In other words, we think too much. We contemplate ourselves, our existence, our origin, our destiny. We can evaluate the goodness or badness of a situation.

On the flip side, we can also contemplate a better life. Though we can conceive of a life without pain, problems, suffering, evil, and death; we’re powerless to escape it. We can’t accomplish it by ourselves.

“Do you know what Ego means? Self. It’s what opens our eyes in the morning. It’s the thing that allows us to have an affect on the world.” –Dr. Hanson

Too often, it is presented that one cannot be both a logical person and a person of faith. Yet, it’s important to have a passionate concern for the logical aspects of faith. No one has to leave logic behind in order to embrace faith. Science and religion are not at odds. Both are pursuits of truth and can find a common meeting place. Sometimes we can find God in the beauty of His most complicated creation, our minds. Or, as Dr. Cole puts it, “the thing about our Creator? Even when He ties the veins inside our head into an angry map, it’s beautiful.”

“If I die, you’re going to have a moment in time where everything important in life rises to the top. You’ve got to grab that moment. It’s the only chance you’ll get.” –Patient

3 Lbs walks a tricky tightrope with its main character. Like House, it’s Dr. Hanson’s very brokenness as a human being that draws us to him, yet it’s difficult to have him essentially not grow or change as a character and be believeable (not to mention the risk of him “growing” to the point of being uninteresting). Here we are presented with yet another a brilliant, deductive mind unable to grasp the simplest concepts of human interaction and relationships, being too smart for his own good. Unless that’s the point.

Well acted, well directed, well written, 3 lbs is a fine drama, but I can’t help but feel a weariness to these kind of shows. There is a sameness to the rhythm of the modern drama, down to the “meaningful” song over scenes summing up the show at the end and the journey inside the body special effects. What makes the show standout, however, is the central character of Dr. Hanson. Let’s see if the audiences rally around him like they do Dr. House. I’m not betting that they will.


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Friday Night Date Place - You Burning?*

“But if they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” --I Corinthians 7:9

We’ve been doing Friday Night Date Place for a while now, but can I tell you something? It is hard being a man. Fellas, think back with me. It started in high school. Your mind keeps wandering, you can’t concentrate. Your body starts going through all these changes. You have to wear your shirts untucked, hold your books in front of you, and have difficulty walking up to the chalkboard when called upon. It doesn’t get any easier. I’m surprised many of us can even hold down jobs because we think about, you know, so often. [I’ve been informed that my blog is being read by a larger contingent of people than I originally thought. In a nod to trying to be a more responsible blogger, I won’t do any more random digressions into boobies. The last thing folks want from someone is a pastor-ish role is blogs on how boobies obviously prove the existence of God. That blog has been scrapped. Though I did have Scriptural proof-texts which, I felt, backed up my position.] From puberty until sometime after our mid-life crisis, we are captivated, no, seemingly enslaved to thoughts of ... you know.

Now, let me fill you in on a dirty little secret: women struggle with desires, too. You know, it was the one thing that growing up in church, that no one seemed to talk about. They made it sound as if as long as boys could keep it in their pants, there would be no sort of struggle. I mention a few times that women get horny too, and you’d think that the walls came crashing down. I know that our often Puritanical mindsets tend to preclude us from discussing such things aloud but there’s really no point in acting like Sex in the City spoke to men nor pretend like it is only men who think about, you know, all the time. Women have hormones to. They just don’t have to untuck their shirts.

It’s quite the tight rope that single folks have to walk. To try and not place themselves in tempting situations while not letting their “burning” lead to bad decision making (read: using sex as a band aid for their hurts or settling for fear of loneliness). This also doesn’t mean that you can just write off your battle with lust and temptation off as a lack of self-control. Learn self-control. If there’s one thing that being married has taught me is that if I didn’t have self-control or discipline before I got married, I’m not going to have it after I get married. There’s no switch that gets flipped when you say “I do.”

There are two central ideas I think we ought to consider. First, there are three words for love presented in the Song of Songs (yes, the bible's sex book that reads like the first recorded booty call and yes, one of the verses backing up my “boobies as proof of God” blog was coming from this book):

a. raya - translated literally as 'friend' or a 'companion', you know, that person that you hang with. (4:7).
b. ahava - is the love of the will. This is beyond the romantic notions of love, the ones that accompany the flush of dating, the "falling in love" that we get swept up in. No, ahava is the decision aspect of love, the love that binds even when you don't particularly 'like' the person. This is the love that's kind of handy in a marriage since it's the kind of love that leads to commitment. (8:7)
c. dod - would be translated to 'carouse', 'rock', or 'fondle' (did i mention the booty call aspect of the book? (1:2)). This is the physical, sexual aspect of a relationship.

What I would propose is that all three, friendship, attraction, and commitment are necessary to truly satisfy, to truly express how we were created to be. We often separate them, thinking that great sex alone can carry or express our feelings in a relationship. Of course, the other thing is that one could have all three of these elements of love in a relationship and not be married so what’s the big deal about being married?

That’s a great question. Let’s talk about it next week (it’s either that or a REALLY long blog this week).

*For the record, the alternate title of this blog was “Horny as Hell”


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Crackernomics

I love it when Anthony Smith, PostModernNegro, steps into a debate on my message board. Yes, we were debating a post by Wrath James White. I remember this exchange between him and another board member like it was yesterday ...

(... cue the harp music as we go back in time ...)

Still I cannot believe that one must do a study of slavery to understand the political issues that face us today, or have an understanding of current events.

I guess the same can be said for the current debates surrounding Supreme Court nominees. The 'original' intent of the founders don't matter right? I mean...it’s the past right? I has no bearing whatsoever on our present...right? That's my point. We can be very selective about which past historical events have a bearing on our political present. Why is that? And why is it the race and slavery issue that normally gets side-lined? Its quite arbitrary. Not saying you are saying this green...but because we don't read the histories with serious scrutiny this is typically the kind of response we will continue to get...our racial past has no bearing on the present. Such a suggestion is a very selective view of history. And it reveals other things that I don't think we are ready to delve into in this particular discussion...such as white privilege. White people don't have to acknowledge that America's racial past has a bearing on our political present.

Slavery or Vietnam doesn't make little Johnny steal, or entitle Little Susie to a lifetime of welfare.

Again...if I can point out the arbitrary and selective nature of such a common observation. You often hear conservative Christian bemoan the fact that prayer has been taken out of schools...that the introduction of evolution in course curriculums has had detrimental effects on young people in our country. But these happened years ago. It’s the past right? They have no bearing on our political present...right? I am not saying that you, Green, are saying this, but this is the common response we often hear from people who believe that slavery and race-ism have no bearing our political present but somehow Darwin and the absence of school prayer do. Why? Because it effects certain racial groupings. Take for instance school shootings in the suburbs. When a white kid goes off in the suburbs and kills dozens of kids...who is at fault? Do we hear diatribes about personal responsibility? No...that is usually a secondary mention. We get white conservatives going to D.C. to address Congress about the 'culture of violence'. When black folks shoot each other...what? lack of personal responsibility.

So what I see in a lot of these discussions in a selectivity that reveals how little we understand America's racial legacy. I appreciate your response as well...but I hope that we are willing to have a true dialogue and not a monologue. I am willing to learn and listen...and to read whatever you throw my way.

And because I’m all about making friends, here’s a new one defining “white privilege.” This kind of sets the stage for my new INtake column. I originally titled it after the game, but raised your hands if you thought the title “Crackernomics” would stick?

CRACKERNOMICS

I was at a writer's conference the other week and sat in on a panel on race and ethnicity in genre fiction paneled and attended by white people (with yours truly being the sole exception). One of the comments I heard in this already surreal scene was about how white males are an easy target.

O put upon white males, I feel your pain.

After centuries of being in charge, the last few decades have been rough. Feeling like you are the last group of people of whom folks can safely make fun. Jews are out (as Mel Gibson). Gays, Blacks, women, those will get you quickly labeled homophobe, racist, or misogynist. That pretty much leaves Christians and white males as groups for people to mock.

You hear the intelligentsia talk about white privilege and imperial hegemonies and you're left thinking to yourself "I didn't own slaves. I didn't oppress anyone." Again, I feel you my white friends. Navigating history and systematic legacies are tricky endeavors.

The hypocritical conceit of the country was that while our founding fathers held that all men were created equal, they also held slaves. You don't think that central kind of hypocrisy doesn't affect the character of a nation? Finds its way into the system of the society. Finds its way into the hearts and minds of the individuals that make up the system. Becomes ingrained. An aspect of colonialism is its conquest mentality that works by making other cultures less than human (or "the enemy") while exalting the colonizer's. So, pulling a cultural-historical example out of my hat, if black people are still experiencing the lingering effects of slavery and civil rights injustice due to systematic racism, it stands to reason that white people still experience systematic benefits. Both need to be dismantled, because tacit racism is still racism.

I know, I know, you gentle white souls, this means you rage against the gods of political correctness as your slice of the American Dream pie continues to get cut into. The conversations are tough, exposing your possible denial, defensiveness, guilt, and shame of benefiting from systemic injustice. Be strong white people.


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DeathGrip: Exit Laughing

DeathGrip: Exit Laughing is out - horror short stories that are also funny. Ah, look at this table of contents:

Time and Tide By d.g.k. goldberg & William D. Hicks
The Socket By Jeff Strand
Period of Respite By K. A. Corlett
The Chicken Crossed the Road By Steve Vernon
Vestiges of Blessed Rot By Steven L. Shrewsbury *
Mrs. Mogiovi..s Mojo Pizza By Jack Kincaid
Dumb Luck By Scott Nicholson
Grandma Saves the Day By Edward M. Turner
Confessions of a Porn Hack By Carl Hose
The Adverbing By Robert N. Lee
A Gambler, a Dog and the Demons By Dennis Latham
Undertaken By Randy Chandler
Letting Go By Kay Sexton
Unwilling Bride of the Mummy By William Christopher
Accident Prone By Terry Bramlett
Green Eyes and Chili Dogs By Kevin Anderson
The Man Who Stole Tomorrow By Dan Foley

Since We Can Die but Once By Maurice G. Broaddus

Bags By Mark Zirbel Sanctuary By Steve Redwood
All the Wonderful Toys By Matthew Johnson
Medium on the Rise By Devon Monk
The Ultimate Coincidence By Jetse de Vries
Toes By Nick Cato
Hell’s Belles By Dayle A. Dermatis
Image in the Mirror By Ed Barton
Dead-Eyed Jacks By Robert N. Lee & John A. Burks, Jr.
On Becoming Immortal By William F. Nolan

I got jokes.

*Yes, I’m collaborating on a novel with a man who wrote a story about Jesus’ foreskin.


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World Fantasy Convention 2006 Report

Things I could write about: Why Northwest Airlines sucks (with every flight ended with “we apologize ... we hope to serve you better next time). My “white people I hate today” rant. My “I love me some guilty white liberals” rant. The “marionette” story. The “exploding cows” story. “I got a word of testimony” aka “can a brother get a witness?” aka the “Maurice is preaching, someone cut him off”incident. Or why when a British (literary) agent says “what goes in this drink again?” why you shouldn’t go ahead and drink it. Or two more after that. Or “why the hell is Jay Lake making us do the chicken dance?” Instead, I got to thinking about why we go to cons in the first place.

As a friend pointed out, cons are 72 hours of a bunch of introverts pretending to be extroverts. I don't know why I actually pay for WFC. Though I went to more panels and readings this year than last, all that means is that I went to one panel and one reading. The rest of the time, I, seriously, just hung out in the bar and talked to people. It's better that way because you know the “fans” are doing the panel/reading things and the pros are ... in the bar.

There’s a type of person I want to be and one I don’t want to become. It’s a fine tension we walk. On the one hand, going to cons is about business. You’re there to make connections, writers, agents, and editors. Schmoozing is part of the game, they know it, we know it.

However, there was a point at a dinner I attended when I had to leave because I thought I had crossed the line and became guilty of name-badging people. When I reduce people to “who are you?” “What can you do for me?” When I become strictly about the climb, strictly about my opportunities, then I’m one step from becoming one of those “stab them in the back, climb their corpse” sort of people.

Okay, it was probably a bit of an existential crash that comes while recovering from a night of “incidents” or the “what am I doing here/I’m a complete fraud” angst most writers go through. On the flip side, I was also reminded about why I truly come to these things. Commiserating with family–like John Hay, Alice Henderson, or Bill Gagliani–as we work through our collective writers’ issues. The growing that comes from having friends like Christopher Fulbright, Angeline Hawkes, and Matt Cardin check your faith. Meeting new friends like Laird Barron, Darren Speegle, Shannan Palma. Seeing old ones like Wayne Allen Sallee, the Night Shade guys, She Who Shall Not Be Named, Lee Thomas, Nick Kaufmann, Tim Waggoner, or Catherynne M. Valente.

Of course, no one’s motives are perfectly pure. We are there to network and I talked to my share of agents and editors and have a lot of work to do over the next few months. I just don’t want to forget that cons are also about building relationships, comradery, recharging, and the creative frisson that comes with being with your tribe. That’s what is so reinvigorating about cons.

Now I have to go get some more rest. Monday came awfully early today.


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Open Letter to Mega-Churches

You know, I really do love the Church. Like with anything else, it has its problems and I’m not one to shy away from criticizing. Thus my blogs on empire building, reconsidering mega-churches, and the problems of the prosperity gospel.

There comes a point where pastors or churches shift from doing Kingdom work into legacy mode. Where a church decides to spend $12, $22, or $27M dollars on a building project, to create essentially a bigger altar to itself. At what point do you shake yourself and ask what are you doing and who are you doing it for?

The church has adopted the ways of the world and is completely oblivious to it. Copying the attitudes and methods that worked so well for them individually in life and the corporate world.This follows from a mindset that has turned church-goers into consumers of the show: We've become part of the cult of personality, shopping for the speakers who can best tickle our ears, complainers about the music, the lights, the sound, the production - forgetting about what it means to worship. Church became about our needs. We want to be surrounded by a lot of voices, we want programs to keep us in our Christian cocoons, we want to be able to brag about what we can do. In other words,

The church has adopted the ways of the world and isn't aware of it. Though there is often a spirit of generosity, the mindset of such churches extols the virtue of size, power, and influence. They become guilty of pride. The church also values a kind of "collective individualism" as the individual churches want to make names for themselves, want to be able to do what they want, when they want, how they want ... on their terms. They are well-educated, live in nice houses, make nice livings, and are well-respected. They have become about protecting their comfort and thus compromising your first love.

Too often, large or small, churches become about maintenance: their buildings and programs, rallying their flocks behind the latest cause or protest, keeping their numbers up and in the process depersonalizing relationships. Growing by stealing members from other churches and putting butts in pews in order to cultivate pew potatoes is not really growing the Kingdom. Yet as long as butts are accounted for (and giving), they assume that your needs are being met.

Churches, how much of what you do is more about ego and leaving your imprint, your mark, in church history and compromising the Gospel message in the process? Don't be reduced to being about buildings, budgets, and butts.

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