When Our Senses Overwhelm Us

"The canine sense of smell and his repertoire of scents is, after all, at least hundreds of times and perhaps more than a million times more acute and more expansive than mine." Randy Kidd, DMV, PhD

It is said that for us, our sense of smell is most closely tied to memory, but our sense of vision tends to take priority over the other senses. I have read that when we lose our vision, our sense of hearing becomes more acute, for example.

When teaching phlebotomy skills to nurses not used to performing that task (blood drawing for labs), they would blindly run their fingers up and down the patients arm in a mild panic if they couldn't see the vein with their eyes. I would encourage them to take a deep breathe and close their eyes, let their fingers begin to work without the distraction of the eyes.

The inspiration for this post are my little furry critters over there on the left sidebar. For a few months now the canines and the felines have been working on detente with the door to the basement stairs serving as the Iron Curtain and the work room downstairs (where the dogs are fed) as West Berlin. (now that I have beaten THAT metaphor to death...)

Frankie, my Welsh terrier, most of all has yet to give up on full investigation of the kittens. He will not let an opportunity pass to sniff their butts, nip at their rumps, and try to get them to play. Needless to say the kittens are not amused. Lola will only get into the fray if Frankie is there already stirring the pot--otherwise she pretty much leaves well enough alone. However, when she is the first dog to venture into cat space she will scout out the terrain to see where those alien beasts are lurking.

The fable in all this is that often times with their sense of smell in overload they will run right past the cats while searching for them - literally within inches of them. True the cats are "hiding" - akin to a 200 pound man hiding behind a lamppost. The entire basement now must be this massive olfactory zone of tempting feline scent. In their excitement, the dogs run around, "KITTY! KITTY! I SMELL KITTY! MUST FIND KITTY!" They are lead by their awesome sense of smell and blinded as a result.

It has me thinking about ways in which we too zip right past the answers we are looking for because we have allowed the dominant way of perceiving a situation to take control.

A very common example of this for me would be "presumed heterosexuality." Folks who are not in tune to the full spectrum of human sexuality - "Well, I don't mind homosexuals I suppose, as long as they stay down there in the big cities...it's not like we have any of their sort HERE..." -- only see their world through a heterosexual lens.

I don't mean to limit this concept to the manner in which we deal in stereotypes. I believe it is much bigger than that. The above was just a simple example to make my point. I believe what I am getting at has to do with breaking out of our respective paradigms.

I love to smash paradigms. I love to ask - "But WHY do we have to do it that way?" When I first switched to day shift on the ortho/neuro/peds floor at the hospital many years ago, I drove the Old Doll nurses crazy. I know this because my manager told me so at my 90 day evaluation. She told me that she likes that I think outside the box, but that the other nurses just don't get me. For example, the established routine was that all the bathes must be completed by 10AM. They would kill themselves some days to make this happen. I chose not to worry about this though - we had the entire 8 hour day shift to achieve this goal. It made the girls crazy.

This is not to say that, like my little canine friends, I don't let my sense of smell get the better of me and rush right past the cats that I know must be there. I do my best. I try to remember to be aware of this tendency. When I do, I close my eyes and let the other senses guide me.

Peace.

Citizens United vs. FEC

No.08-205. Argued March 24, 2009---Re-argued September 9, 2009---Decided January 21, 2010

...As amended by...the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002, federal law prohibits corporations...from using their general treasury funds to make independent expenditures for speech that is an "electioneering communication" or for speech that expressly advocates the election or defeat of a candidate...

...The Court has recognized that the First Amendment applies to corporations...and extended this protection to the context of political speech...

...The First Amendment prohibits Congress from fining or jailing citizens, or associations of citizens, for engaging in political speech... ...The judgment of the District Court is reversed...It is so ordered.

The following is from The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck:

"The owners of the land came onto the land, or more often a spokesman for the owners came. ...Some of the owner men were kind because they hated what they had to do, and some of them were angry because they hated to be cruel, and some of them were cold because they had long ago found that one could not be an owner unless one were cold. And all of them were caught in something larger than themselves...If a bank or a finance company owned the land, the owner man said, The Bank -- or the Company -- needs -- wants -- insists -- must have -- as though the Bank or the Company were a monster, with thought and feeling, which had ensnared them. These last would take no responsibility for the banks or the companies because they were men and slaves, while the banks were machines and masters all at the same time...The owner men sat in the cars and explained. You know the land is poor. You've scrabbled at it long enough, God knows.

The squatting tenant men nodded and wondered and drew figures in the dust, and yes, they knew, God knows. If the dust only wouldn't fly. If the top would only stay on the soil, it might not be so bad...

Well, it's too late. And the owner men explained the workings and the thinkings of the monster that was stronger than they were....You see, a bank or a company...those creatures don't breathe air, don't eat side-meat. They breathe profits; they eat the interest on money....We have to do it. We don't like to do it. But the monster's sick....

Sure, cried the tenant men, but it's our land. We measured it and broke it up. We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours...

We're sorry. It's not us. It's the monster. The bank isn't like a man.

Yes, but the bank is only made of men.

No, you're wrong there--quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it."

And the Supreme Court has further enshrined that the monster is entitled to all the rights of a citizen.

I have long ago altered Lincoln's famous words to more properly reflect what has happened to this failed Democracy known as the United States of America. What we have now is Government of the Corporations, by the Corporations, and for the Corporations.

Thankfully, full disclosure is still required. In his opinion, Justice Clarence "pubic hair on my Pepsi" Thomas rails against not protecting anonymous speech. As his examples he cites the occurrences in California where individuals who donated to the Pro Proposition 8 cause were subject to calls for boycotts and resignations. Justice Thomas would prefer that the money be hidden and secret.

I recall an incident here in Marquette in which the very Republican owner of a popular local business decided to put large political signs up in front of his business in support of the Republican candidate for Congress. He was outraged when a boycott was organized against his business. He wrongly (IMHO) felt that somehow his freedom of speech was being taken away from him. Clarence Thomas apparently would have agreed.

However, he chose to politicize his business and the consumers of this heavily Democratic and unionized county chose to vote with their dollars. What could be more American than that? Therefore, disappointed as I am in the decision, the disclosure of donated money will trigger all kinds of boycotts and calls for support in coming years by political consumers. I am thankful for the internet and for the social networking sites that will make instant boycotts our only weapon against corporate money.

In Chicago in the late 80's, the boys in Boys Town decided to stop drinking Miller products because of Philip Morris' support of right wing anti-gay politicians. Although some whined that we were only punishing the local distributor, Miller/Phillip Morris eventually figured out that the boys of Boys Town drink a lot of beer. I haven't been to a Pride Parade in a number of years now, but I recall fondly watching the big Miller truck take it's place among the other floats and groups.

Be aware Corporate America, we will be watching where every penny goes so choose how you spend wisely or suffer the consequences. This might be a great spot to remind you all to switch your money to local community banks and credit unions and out of the pockets of Wall Street Banks. Peace.

A Mile Wide And An Inch Deep

I remember when John Edwards came onto the national scene. I wanted very much to like him. This would have been back in 2004 when he was running for president and then selected as John Kerry's running mate. Of course, as I did a bit of quick fact checking for this post I discovered his real name - Johnny Reid Edwards - somehow much more appropriate for this slick operator, don't you think?

As I said, I wanted to like him - he is very good looking - has this kind of Bobby Sherman thing going. Remember him, Bobby Sherman? Here Come The Brides? Am I that old? Oh, never mind. However, I've always felt there was this shallow frat boy quality to his looks - a lights are on but nobody's home kind of quality behind the eyes - and I don't mean stupidity. I couldn't quite put a finger on what it was that was triggering that character alert alarm in my head.

A moment at the Democratic convention sealed it for me. This dude was not to be trusted. The moment was he was announced as the official running mate. I can't recall if his wife gave the speech or how it all occurred. The gyst of it was that John Kerry and his rich catsup queen wife Thereza were already on stage as was Mrs. Edwards.

He enters stage right - charming smile on high beams. Elizabeth Edwards approaches him, I'm assuming to give him a big hug. Apparently this wasn't part of the scripted moment. Without dropping a megawatt from his pearly white grin, he grabbed his wife by the shoulders without hugging or kissing her and shoved her out of the way as he passed so he could get to his mark.

The camera shot was of most of the stage and this little action occurred at the far left side of the screen with the podium and the Kerry's off to the right. I remember my jaw hit the floor. Did I just see him do that? The man was such a player he couldn't break from the staged moment and give his wife a spontaneous hug and kiss? I felt this cold pit open up in my gut for the briefest moment. What kind of man would do that?

Well, now we all know. The kind of man who would cheat on his cancer stricken wife and have a baby with another woman. The kind of man who thought he could get away with the affair. The kind of man who cons the woman and another campaign staffer to take the credit for the child. It just keeps getting better and better.

By any chance have your read the Stephen King novel The Dead Zone? The protagonist has this ability to see into the future when he touches people. He shakes hands with this political candidate and has all kinds of horrible premonitions about the man. He decides he has to take him out. Part of his premonitions involve seeing the man through a blue tigerstripe gauzy fabric and he cannot make out what that means.

As the novel procedes this politician is gaining in the polls and looks to be a shoe in in the election. The protagonist's last chance is a small New England church where he hides in the choir loft with a rifle to assassinate this man who he has come to believe is truly evil. The man has finished his speech and is working his way through the crowed doing the hand shake and kiss the baby thing. As the protagonist leaps up to shoot the man, he has just patted the head of a small baby who is wearing a blue tiger striped snowsuit. When the politician sees what is about to happen, he grabs the baby and uses him as a shield to run down the aisle.

The protagonist is fatally shot by the secret service men. I can't recall exactly how, but he manages to grab ahold of the nasty politician as he passes and now all he sees is the destroyed political career and he can die content that he has saved the country. Classic King.

R.I.P Political Career of Johnny Edwards - I think we dodged a bullet on that one.

Theme From M*A*S*H...

I am telling you now, upfront, this post is in no way a cry for help. As you read this post, be aware of your reactions to what I am discussing and share your comments accordingly. We have a very dysfunctional relationship to death in this culture. I am seeking to tear down some of that dysfunction here.

I want to talk about suicide, euthanasia, and death. Please note your reaction. Is it "how morbid!" Is it, "Oh, I hope he's ok." Is it, "I don't want to hear about this."

I have been on medication for anxiety/depression for about eight years now and probably could have used it much earlier than that. My mood ebbs and flows--at times with enough caffeine on board I have some clearly manic episodes. I also have times where I am down. This isn't one of them.

As a single person in America, I am constantly subjected to the cultural expectations that people are to be coupled and the silent and not so silent questioning of what is wrong when someone remains single. When I am down it almost never has to do with being "alone." (cue the dramatic music)

About two years ago I was meeting with my psychiatrist. I basically have a 15 minute appointment every six months to touch base and get my prescriptions refilled. I had finally felt brave enough to bring up my thoughts of suicidal ideation--fancy words for contemplating suicide.

What he said that day has stuck with me more than anything else he has said. Essentially he said that part of depression - part of being neurotic - is having experiencing those emotional states as our comfort zones. Our brains - our subconscious - works then to keep us in those emotional states because that is where we are comfortable.

Think, for example, of someone you know who always seems to be in a crisis. You might even say they spend their lives bouncing from crisis to crisis. That person essentially only knows how to function when they are on high alert/crisis mode. That is his or her comfort zone. Some will go so far as to create crises in order to maintain that zone.

In my case though, the regular punitive sh*t we feed ourselves doesn't work. This would be the "I'm a bad person because..." kind of thoughts. I'm a bad person because my house isn't clean, I'm a bad person because I yelled at my kids. I'm a bad person because I didn't recycle. Think of that as a first line of attack by our sub-conscience to keep us in that comfort zone of feeling bad. As I said, in my case that stuff doesn't carry water any more. I am able with the help of my medication to shut that voice down most of the time.

This is where Dr. Miller's thoughts really hit home. He suggested that in my case, my brain has had to be more creative to try and push me back into that zone, and it does so by having these taboo thoughts creep into my daily musings. They can be musings on suicide or sexual perversity or violence. Once I have those thoughts, the punitive voice kicks back in. "I'm a bad person because I'm thinking about..." Thankfully, I am mastering control of this strategy as well in my fight to battle depression.

I believe it is a zen concept to remember that our thoughts do not define us. They are like a monkey in a cage, rattling the bars, trying to escape. This in conjunction with Dr. Miller's advise keeps me out of the dark place.

However, clearly suicidal ideation is a cultural taboo. We don't want to hear about it. We don't want to talk about it. We start to panic when someone does.

I am fairly certain that when the appropriate time comes, I will choose to die at my own hands. Once again, please note your reaction. Is it, "Oh my God!" Is it, "You lie!" Is it, "Oh, you're just being dramatic." Is it, "Are you sure you're ok?"

I have mixed feelings with how Hollywood has dealt with the subject over the years. There is the tragic end to The Children's Hour in which Shirley MacLaine's character hangs herself after admitting that she is a lesbian. There is Ruth Gordan's character in Harold and Maude, who takes her own life on her 80th birthday. Having survived the concentration camps of Germany, she simply decided she would enjoy life to the fullest and check out on her 80th. In both of these films, the suicide comes at the end as an essential moment in the film's climax.

On rare occasions, the suicide is a central theme of the film. For example, Javier Bardem portrays the real life struggle with assisted suicide of Ramon Sampedro in The Sea Inside. Ramon Sampedro lived for many years as a quadriplegic, fighting unsuccessfully for the right to end his life.

Lastly, is the Robin Williams' movie What Dreams May Come. This movie is mostly set in heaven after a series of tragedies befall one family. First they parents lose their children in a car accident. Then, months later, Robin Williams is also killed in an accident, leaving the bereft mother all alone. The remainder of the film centers on Robin Williams' experiences in heaven where he learns that his wife has committed suicide.

I remember discussing the movie with my mom and she was very troubled by the message put forth. The wife is ironically trapped in a hell-like prison of her own creation because she chose to end her own life. Robin Williams' eventually manages to free her from this purgatory. However, the message is that you will be punished in the afterlife for your action if you choose suicide.

This, of course, is the Christian tradition. Suicides were not to be buried in sacred ground. The grieving families were instructed that their loved one was now beyond reach in hell for their mortal sin. Even today, the Roman Catholic church still forbids the removal of feeding tubes and the withdrawing of life support.

I have worked in health care for nearly twenty years now. I have seen up close what it looks like when death wins over medical intervention. Too, too often we - the patient, the family, the doctors - cling to life at all costs...to what end?

Perhaps I will choose hospice over aggressive treatment of cancer. Perhaps I will find a way to end things on my own if faced with a diagnosis of Alzheimers. Perhaps I will live into my nineties and all my friends will be gone and I will decide that it is time. It is my hope that long before I reach that point, society will have improved on how we deal with death and end of life issues and there will be a formal process I can follow. Rest assured that when the time comes, it will not be an emotional, rash decision.

However, it will be my choice and my decision...unless a wayward logging truck gets me first.

Mad As Hell, Not Gonna Take It Anymore...

Any idea what this lovely collection of humanity has in common? They were all participants at a "Holocaust Denial" Conference. I cannot fathom the level of hate and bigotry that it must take to come to this belief. I sometimes wonder if they truly don't believe or if they are merely taking a pose for political reasons. Regardless they are very proud and public with this stance. How would you feel if these very vocal deniers were gaining ground in their beliefs - encouraging other Holocaust Deniers to come forward, join them in discrediting this "enormous fraud?"

In light of how I began this post, what follows may seem to some to be overly harsh and an unfair comparison.

I posted the following quote from The Passion of the Western Mind: Understanding the Ideas That Have Shaped Our World View by Richard Tarnas:

"On the intellectual level, religion no longer tends to be understood reductively as a psychologically or culturally determined belief in nonexistent realities, or explained away as an accident of biology, but is recognized as a fundamental human activity in which every society and individual symbolically interprets and engages the ultimate nature of being."

When I came across that quote last night while finishing the book, I stopped mid-page to post it as a Facebook status update. It seemed to sum up my thoughts on religion - not "organized religion," not "church," not "faith" - but pure religion, and why it continues to be essential to humanity in all it's forms. In turn, it clicked for me why I am so bothered by fundamentalist atheists or rabid anti-theists as I prefer to call them (in the hopes of separating them from the more tolerant atheists and agnostics).


With greater frequency and louder and more shrill voices, the growing mob of anti-theists out there are making their voices heard. The first batch of comments posted were all incredibly bigoted, negative comments about religion from otherwise intelligent friendly people. This vocal fundamentalism that believes religion must be destroyed and eliminated is dangerous and should no longer be tolerated.

As I sat there reading these angry, hate filled comments on my Facebook wall, I realized that I was finished with allowing these individuals to pollute my space with their horrid rhetoric. If I learned that a friend was a Holocaust denier, would I bite my tongue and pretend that what they were saying was just a matter of opinion?

I had decided to read Tarnas' book to get a better handle on how we got to where we are in the 21st century. The relationship between the metaphysical and the empirical is a dance that has been going on for two millenia and the music is still playing. These rabid anti-theists who so vocally seek to destroy religion are chained to the biblical literalism and Christian fundamentalism they so vociferously hate.

Karen Armstrong said it best in the introduction to her new book, "Atheism is...parasitically dependent on the form of theism it seeks to eliminate and becomes its reverse mirror image."

When I was in boot camp many years ago, an ordained Baptist minister in my company took time one Sunday afternoon to explain why Roman Catholicism was evil and why I would be going to Hell. That is religious intolerance. Muslims and Christians continue to kill each other in Nigeria. That is religious intolerance. Anti-theists fund public media campaigns to attack the beliefs of the faithful. That is religious intolerance.

From this day forward, this blog will no longer provide space for rabid anti-theists. I will no longer enable what is a violent, determined bigotry - no different in spirit than the Klan. I deny them the right to wear the mantle of Rationalism. They are using Rationalism in their own fundamentalist culture war.

As Tarnas says,

"Science too, while no longer enjoying the same degree of sovereignty it possessed during the modern era, continues to retain allegiance for the unrivaled pragmatic power of its conceptions and the penetrating rigor of its method. Because the earlier knowledge claims of modern science have been relativized by both philosophy of science and the concrete consequences of scientific and technological advance, that allegiance is no longer uncritical, yet in these new circumstances science itself has seemingly been freed up to explore new and less-constricted approaches to understanding the world. It is true that individuals who subscribe to an allegedly unified and self-evident "scientific world view" of the modern type are seen as having failed to engage the larger intellectual challenge of the age--thereby receiving the same judgment in the postmodern era that the ingenuous religious person received from science in the modern era. In virtually all contemporary disciplines, it is recognized that the prodigious complexity, subtlety, and multivalence of reality far transcend the grasp of any one intellectual approach, and that only a committed openness to the interplay of many perspectives can meet the extraordinary challenges of the postmodern era."

Far too many of these atheists are as blind in their faith in science as biblical literalists are in their faith in the Bible. Waving a copy of Darwin's Origin of the Species and thumping on its cover for good effect is no different than doing the same with the Bible. Putting a fish with legs logo on your car is no different than the original fish logo. If your beliefs only have weight by railing against someone else's beliefs, then you have no belief. You are empty. You are a fraud.

It's A Dog's Life...

All week I had been listening for my Muse and...nothing...silence. I tend to write these posts off the cuff when a particular bit of news triggers something, and what I have to say comes pouring forth. I do a tiny bit of editing, mostly for typos, but in the end this is writing on the fly.

This intro comes as a nod towards Mr. Z, my 6th grade teacher, who recently found me on Facebook some 35+ years later. I would credit him as the first teacher who really encouraged my writing, so in a way you have him to blame. The next teacher after him would be Grace Chamberlain with whom he is friends, so I hope to be able to get word to her as well that they are remembered fondly.

Mad Priest posted the triggering item today on his blog. I have borrowed the image above from his post. It is a report on Russians and stray dogs and a subway murder...so go now and read.

This comes on the tail (pun intended) of a piece I read the other day via AlterNet from the Washington Post. It tells the tale of a little dog left abandoned on a tanker and the public outcry to rescue her...so go now and read that...I'll wait.

Finally, a Facebook/college friend posted a status update on Facebook today about "having a bit of a sad" over the death of a friend's dog.

Right or wrong, I was one of those people following Katrina. I found myself more moved by the plight of the animals than the plight of the people. I readily admit that by all human logic there seems to be something very wrong about that. Thankfully the world isn't guided by logic alone. I still carry around in my head the image of the dog trapped on the bit of overpass surrounded by flood waters--terrified, thirsty, alone. I admit to worrying about the dogs in Haiti as well.

At the root of this, I believe, is a cultural understanding of a little bit of Old Testament scripture that traditionally was read as have dominion over and is often now read as stewardship of...God's creation and other creatures. Essentially it is a question of humanity's role within or above nature. Are we part of nature or above nature?

I for one believe we are very much a part of nature...that we are a species among many. We may be blessed (or cursed) with possessing the most powerful intellect of the species, but we remain part of the animal kingdom none the less. Therefore, I also believe in animal intelligence...which brings us ultimately to suffering.

I think the Washington Post piece is onto something. Our brains are simply not programmed to truly process suffering on such a massive scale as the death and destruction in Haiti. I played the comparative math game yesterday. "Let's see...200,000 dead in Haiti would be about ten Marquette, Michigans, dead and gone...about seven Marquette Counties...or about 2/3 of the entire Upper Peninsula. I still tended to stare at those figures blankly.

Yet when I read the report on the eighty-eight nursing home residents, lying in the street with only two care aides desperately trying to comfort them., I was horrified. The report that rats were seen chewing at the diapers...

Yesterday on NPR they interviewed a musician who's school collapsed in the quake ten years to the day that a fire had destroyed it before. He was pulled alive from the rubble after only eighteen hours. His pregnant wife who was with him in the building was killed.

These individual stories moved me, and when I saw the video footage of the young boy pulled from the building I had a physical reaction as well...that sort of over-the-top-of-the-hill belly flip-butterfly feeling.

I believe that our animals experience suffering too. The difference lies in how they cope with their suffering. They may lack the cognitive ability to understand their suffering-to remember a time without suffering-or look to a time beyond their suffering. They stoically accept it as the now and do their best to continue living.

Nothing raises my hackles more than to hear someone exclaim, "Oh, please, it was just a dog..." As a believer in stewardship and the continuum of animal species that includes us rather than excludes us, to make such as statement is to be on a slippery slope to logic that can include the statement, "Oh, please, it's just a Jew...or a fag...or a Haitian."

To simply negate the being and suffering of a creature is to deny the creator in that creature. This is not the same as establishing an equivalency in which the value of a cat's life is the same as the value of a child's life. Such comparisons seem pointless in their attempt to defend the negation of value in animals' lives.

Of course, if I somehow found myself in a burning house and could only rescue either the little child or my beloved dog, I would rescue the child. That though in itself is meaningless. Life does not present itself in such simplistic black and white choices.

Life tends to present us with situations much more akin to Sophie's Choice, where upon arrival at Auschwitz, Meryl Streep's character must choose which of her children is to live and which to die. In the years that follow, Sophie experiences a particularly human form of suffering; a suffering to which animals are immune, survivor's guilt.

Yesterday the UN announced that the search and rescue phase of the operation in Haiti is over. I read of a mother's emotional response to the news; her three children are buried in the rubble. For the first two to three days following the quake, she heard their cries and could do nothing. She refuses to give up. I fear her suffering will never end.

So as you see, I am not heartless. I am not blind to human suffering. However, do not ask me to sacrifice my compassion for animals as a way to prove myself. We cannot truly process and understand suffering on the scale of the Haiti disaster. Writing off the suffering of animals in light of human suffering does not bring us any closer to doing so - it is perhaps one way of coping with our own survivor's guilt. However, I see holding onto a sense of compassion for animals as a better way of battling that guilt.

I choose to battle the horror of unexplainable death with a fierce determination to protect life - ALL life - "all creatures, great and small." Peace.

Devil Incarnate?

The Rev. Pat Robertson once again stirred the pot, this time with his comments regarding possible causes of the Haiti earthquake. As he has done before, he has made a pronouncement about the cause for a natural disaster--namely that sin has triggered punishment.

I found myself struck by the anger directed back at him across the blogosphere, however. In most cases, when an individual makes a ridiculous or bizarre statement, we may gape a bit and then turn our heads making some form of "screw loose" gesture, so why the vitriol here?

Of course, in the midst of this horrific tragedy there is a decided "blame the victim" quality to his comments. For those with lost loved ones in the rubble, his comments are beyond appalling--like standing at the casket with the parents of a deceased adolescent and commenting on his lack of judgment and poor driving skills.

I also wonder if there is something deeper occurring though. Many without a personal connection to the tragedy are equally enraged. I am thinking that it boils down to problems with our Christian theology and his comments drift too close to our own theological confusion and doubt. We, therefore, want to punish him for making us uncomfortable. Our anger will vindicate our own faith. "See how not gay I am by beating up this fag?"

Pat Robertson clearly believes in an all powerful deity who regularly and consistently intervenes with life on the planet. If one is righteous and good with God, then one can pray for divine intervention into the chaos of our lives and be answered. If one is not righteous, if one is sinful, than one can expect punishment.

His faith allows for no doubt whatsoever. Something horrible has happened, there must be a reason for it. God's decision to stand back and let the suffering occur or (worse yet) send down the divine power that destroys cities in a single blow must be the fault of the victims.

Many of us were raised on this kind of God or a very similar God. Most of us were taught to pray to God for assistance, intervention. Many of us were taught to believe in God's creation.

Suffering of any scale is problematic - whether suffering a migraine all the way up to the devastation in Port-au-Prince. "What have I done to deserve this?" "Why is God allowing this to happen?" I think that emotionally many of us drift into this line of thinking against the best efforts of our rational brains.

The disconnect between the metaphysical and the empirical. We try to maintain a sense of balance between our belief in God and our trust in Science. Suffering throws us off balance. Pat Robertson reminds us that we are off balance and we hate him for it.

In our anger and hurt we want to shake our fists and curse God and that is uncomfortable. We want to blame someone, something for the pain and our rational/empirical sides - our left brain - keeps matter-of-factly stating, in best Spock Vulcan - "Don't be illogical, it was merely a shift in tectonic plates of the Earth in combination with shoddy building construction as a result of a devastated economy." But our right brain still insists on assigning blame and the only being left then is God...and that hurts.

Pat Robertson's ridiculous pronouncement refuses to blame God and so he must blame the victim. In his sad theology we see glimpses of our own doubt and we want to eradicate that doubt and so we angrily denounce him. We tell him to Shut The F*ck Up! We call him names - decry his ignorance and his cruelty. Perhaps, though, as has been suggested, the best response to him and his ilk is to ignore them - gape a bit, turn our heads, and make some sort of "screw loose" gesture.

Peace.

Lao Tzu - Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

Luke 18:22 - When Jesus heard this, he said to him, "There is still one thing lacking. Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."

The Koran - Prayer carries us halfway to God, fasting brings us to the door of His palace, alms-giving procures us admission.

Henry Ford - It is easy to give alms; it is better to work to make the giving of alms unnecessary.

John Acton - There is not a soul who does not have to beg alms of another, either a smile, a handshake, or a fond eye.

I have been thinking about the devastation in Haiti and the scramble in the aftermath to get resources to the survivors. In the days that followed, Pat Robertson made some rather unhelpful explanations of the cause of the earthquake, triggering another batch of thinking and pondering.

Yesterday, Maria made an offhand, otherwise innocuous Facebook status update that evolved into a 30+ comment discussion about shopping at Wal-Mart.

In the end I am now thinking about little gestures that we make in the face of suffering and the value of those gestures. Do they say more about our own needs or are they truly about the needs of the afflicted? Do they really make any difference in the end?

Let's start with the Wal-Mart situation. I am one of those who feel that Wal-Mart is destroying the fabric of this country. Their policies and price warfare amongst competitors and suppliers is contributing to the corporatization of the economy - they are becoming like one large "company store" for the country.

I avoid shopping there as much as possible, and in recent memory have not been inside their doors in well over a year. By choosing to shop elsewhere am I really affecting change? Or am I simply doing a "feel good" action that allows me to feel superior?

Maria lives in a rural part of the Mid West and she has few other options yet she still tries to limit how often and how much she spends at Wal-Mart. Interestingly though she knows a number of people that work there and this complicates a genuine personal boycott. When she shops there she knows that she is supporting their income which in turn contributes indirectly to the local community. There are very few alternatives for employment.

The hypothetical question is how many retail jobs would exist in her region if the big box store giant wasn't in town? Even if the answer is that there are fewer net jobs now in the region as all those other stores were forced to close up shop, the reality is what it is. As a result of this I have come to see that my personal boycott of Wal-Mart really is accomplishing very little beyond what personal satisfaction I receive.

What then about acts of charity? (hence all the quotes at the beginning of this post) As I said in a recent Facebook status update, "...if you give a homeless person some change...have you done your good deed for the day?...for the week? Is the action more about you and your need or the homeless person and his need? Ultimately what has been accomplished with this gesture?"

There was a time when there were no safety nets - no Medicaid, no social security, no Red Cross, no OxFam...there was only the church and charitable giving of alms from the "have's" to the "have not's." The context of the giving was very much person to person - meeting the gaze of the poor. There was also a power dynamic - the poor were expected to be properly respectful and appreciative for the crumbs thrown their way.

We now live in a time of better (though it seems disappearing) safety nets. There are an abundance of organizations dedicated with varying levels of success at alleviating the suffering of the poor. Further, the development of nation states and post-colonialism in combination with modern technology has lead to bringing the suffering of the world into our living rooms and lap tops.

I am struck by an odd parallel here. In the game of warfare, we now have weaponry that can reach around the globe and obliterate our enemies. Combatants need not look each other in the eye any longer. Pilots of drone aircraft our hundreds of miles away. Bomber pilots are miles up in the atmosphere. Warships fire their missiles from over the horizon.

Similarly, we no longer have any need of meeting the gaze of the poor as we dish out our alms. Disaster strikes around the globe and through our agencies relief is sent off. Like our weaponry, our dollars can reach around the globe from hundreds of miles away over the horizon.

I think in both cases the lack of human to human contact is detrimental.

I continue to struggle over the tragedy unfolding in Haiti. Earthquake hits a relentlessly poor nation with next to no infrastructure. There's a huge outcry for donations to alleviate the suffering. Now with modern technology we are shown snippets of video and sound bites and told to text a code and voila! a $10.00 donation has been made. There is something very surreal about the whole thing that leaves me unsettled.

When I was attending St. Paul's in Marquette, we had a member of the congregation who made regular mission trips to Haiti. He has personal contacts in country. He can tell stories of individual children that he has helped. I will likely find a way to track him down and make a contribution to his Haiti fund as my gesture of charity - my reaction to this tragedy. I need more of a personal connection. I don't want to be merely throwing some coins at the beggar.

There's also this pay-as-you-go aspect of all this in combination with the news item du jour. I am willing to bet that if I did my internet research I could identify dozens of locales around the globe where there are children existing in abject poverty not far removed from the destruction in Port au Prince with the exception only of scale.

No one is texting messages for them.

It would seem that some disasters are sexier than others. We also have an exceedingly short cultural attention span - in another week we will have moved on, I am certain. Until the next big news story/tragedy demands our attention. Peace.

Appearances Are Deceiving

I am continuing to work my way through The Passion of the Western Mind. I must admit that the last few chapters were rather disheartening in their discussion of the decline of the metaphysical and the ascendancy of the empirical. However, finally I reached the point in which the 20th century came along and yanked the rug out from under the empirical. Einstein et al. with the discoveries of relativity and sub-atomic particles etc. have brought about a greater sense of balance between the metaphysical and the empirical.

I think glass is as good a place as any to show why I mean. Glass is, in reality, a liquid - not a true solid...as if true solids really exist thanks to our knowledge of sub-atomic particles. Here in Marquette, in the Peter White Library, on the second floor of the old section, the windows still have their original panes of glass. If you stand back from the windows and look out onto the lower harbor you can see the thickening of the lower portions of each pain and the thinning of the upper portions - the glass is slowly "melting" downward - because it is a liquid. The picture above is from some other building somewhere else, but it gives a sense of what I am describing.

Appearances are very deceiving - they often reflect what the culture wants them to reflect. We continue to live in an age that places an inordinate amount of stock into the heterosexually based nuclear family. That is our standard of measurement - good or bad. To hear tell, this has been the standard of measurement from time immemorial - though that is simply not true.

We look back on the tradition of large families, for example. Married women often spent most of their adult lives pregnant and nursing children and dying young, either in childbirth or soon thereafter. We tend to forget that part of the motivation behind having so many children was the expectation that a fair number of those children would die and not survive to adulthood. The overarching goal of the family was survival of the lineage. In order to ensure a healthy number of heirs, you had to plan on burying a number of children as well.

I can't even wrap my brain around that. The infamous "choice" Meryl Streep's character must make in Sophie's Choice, which of her two children to keep with her in the concentration camp and which to hand over to the Nazi guard for extermination, for example, would have no emotional grounding in this environment. One doesn't get too emotionally attached to one's children until you are certain they will survive.

I struggle with the loss of one of my beloved dogs. I cannot fathom the loss of a child.

Good or bad this is evidence of our sense of individualism in this culture. We value our independent unique selves as much as as or more as our community. We place great importance on the rugged individual, but here too, appearances are deceiving.

Using the metaphor of light or water...we are all part of a greater being. Take water, for example. Step out of ourselves briefly and consider the species of homo sapiens. Like a multitude of raindrops falling onto an elevated plain, our individual lives have gathered to form a stream that has evolved into a mighty river.

If you measure the length of time (a man made concept) of a human life, generous at 75 years, and compare that to the length of time of the life of the planet, billions of years, each individual life is but a spark in the darkness - a flash and then it is gone. Yet as those lives began flashing thousands of years ago, the combined flashes now glow with a holy continuous light.

When our individual lives are over, we return to the source, yet we remain a part of the river or a particle of the light.

Over at Mad Priest's blog, we recently had a cyber discussion on theories that believe that GLBT folk may be part of the plan - part of what has strengthened our species. I made the point that in a paradigm that overemphasizes the individual and passing along one's genetics to one's offspring, the homosexual, the single person, the childless are all aberrations.

Yet if we think in terms of the species and not simply the individual, having a set population of adults who are removed from the rigors of rearing children has allowed for greater creativity, greater security, and better care of community. Over thousands of generations, our species evolved to live in tribal groupings in which a percentage of individuals chose different paths from the others, becoming holy men, shamans, nuns, healers, warriors - what have you.

Modern humanity has found an inordinate number of homosexuals in the priesthood and nunneries, in the military, in the healing professions, in the arts. All of these roles have contributed to the benefit of the tribe.

I can't recall the gospel reading about the various gifts of the members of Christ's body the Church. Some are called to healing, others to prophecy... Perhaps someone can add the reference in the comments section.

We appear to be alone and isolated individuals. Appearances are deceiving. Peace.

My Booteeful Kittehs...

The girlz continue to get bigger and bigger. They are not quite six and a half months old now. They take great pleasure in pulling books off the shelves, DVDs off the rack, and assorted other games. I look forward to the day when I can begin to let them roam throughout the house. However, step-brother, Frankie, continues to get carried away in his desire to "play" and I want to be certain that no one (Frankie included) will get hurt.

They continue to display all the Maine Coon traits folks have shared - they drink tons of water, they have this strange purr-y quality to their meows, they are big and getting bigger, they are by far the friendliest cats I have ever come across...

I luvs me mah kittehs...

Rubbing Salt In The Wound

There has been a spate of posts and comments recently on gender politics or something to that effect. I would point to a post at Mad Priest's blog in which he danced once again along a thin line between satire and facile provocation.

In a seemingly indirect response, Elizabeth Kaeton has posted a very passionate piece on what she calls The Unholy War On Women. Cyber friends of mine have also posted some very worthwhile comments, and I encourage you to peruse them all. Elizabeth et al. challenge us to make a stand against these horrible crimes - something beyond writing checks to organizations.

I find myself at a loss as to how to proceed. It's not that I disagree with her passionate cry to end the horror. However, I am not convinced that the heart of the issue is gender. In reporting on the outrages occurring in Darfur, South Africa and other places, she emphasizes the plight of women and children. I am not denying that what is occurring is without a doubt monstrous and horrible. I can't help wondering about the men.

As I read and reread her posting, the following words kept buzzing around in my head: gender, race, class, gender, race, class...which of the legs of the stool is really at the heart of the issue? Behind these words lurked an even more abstract concept: power.

We have been told that rape is not a sexual act. Rapists rarely if ever are raping to achieve purely sexual gratification. Power and anger and impotence are braided together - the violent act an expression of rage. This is the true issue occurring in the Genesis story of Sodom. Lot welcomes the messengers of God, but the others want to glory in their dominance and sodomize the strangers, humiliate them and demonstrate their power over them.

And Lot offers up his virginal daughters to the angry mob. (a bit problematic that, don't you think?)

They reject this sexual offering and turn on him as outsider as well. Rape is not about sex, it's about power.

We know the rest of the story. Although God has bargained with Abraham to spare Sodom if ten good souls can be found, only Lot, his wife, and daughters are spared. As they are fleeing down the road, Lot's wife cannot help herself and in defiance of God's order, turns back and is transformed into a pillar of salt...the last victim of Sodom. So the use of the penis as a weapon has been with us since the beginning.

Lord Acton said it well: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." What are we to do if this tendency towards violence and domination is inherent to our being? In 1998, researchers in Uganda witnessed a group of chimpanzees beating on and swaggering around another male chimp's freshly killed body. The victims windpipe, fingernails and testicles were torn out. Further research has revealed that "lethal coalitionary aggression" is part of the "normal behavioral repertoire" of the species (David Watts, Yale University).

So back to my three words - gender, race, class - if we are hardwired towards violent confrontation, and a balanced power dynamic is knocked askew, then the powerful begin to be corrupted and act out their violence on any one of the three legs of this stool. In fact, one might say that the most likely victims will be those who have all three strikes against them - the wrong class, the wrong race, and the wrong gender.

This does not always equate to poor, black women. Think of the situation in Zimbabwe. Rich, white farmers ended up being the wrong class, the wrong race, the wrong gender.

Elizabeth and her commenters have called us to action. How, I ask, do we eliminate power from humanity? That, I believe, is the source of this violence.

I am reminded of the words of Jesus regarding the poor always being with us. At first glance it may seem that I am taking that bit out of context. Yet, the woman who broke open the expensive oil to anoint Jesus was criticized because that money might have been better spent on the poor. Jesus's comment is not a denial of the plight of the poor and a justification for doing nothing. Rather he is acknowledging that there will always be the poor in need of assistance and that not doing other equally important tasks focusing solely on the poor is a futile task.

There are those who seem to take the butterfly effect to heart. In their minds, it is important to call out evidence of misogyny wherever they see, hear, or read it. They believe, they seem to have to believe, that such actions will eventually create change in the world. I admire their courage and spirit. I understand the intent.

I myself put great stock in the words of Maya Angelou who refuses to allow an individual to remain in her home if he utters a racist remark because she believes words have energy and existence and power - and she refuses to contaminate her home with that negative energy.

However, like the woman and the expensive oil, perhaps there will be times to let someone else fight the battle--to not spend all one's energy on anger in defiance of the world's misogyny. Mad Priest can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but I for one will only tilt at his windmill on occasion.

Peace.

Are We Reaching A Tipping Point?

Something has gone terribly wrong in this country. I had such high hopes with the new administration coming in and I feel we are so far gone down this dangerous garden path that there may be no coming back.

On April 19, 1995, Timothy McVeigh drove a rental truck filled with fertilizer up to the Alfred P. Murrah Building in Oklahoma City and managed to kill 168 people. Although the initial reports after the explosion indicated Muslim terrorists, in the end it turned out to be the work of a white American veteran. It was treated as the horrible crime that it was. He was arrested, tried and executed.

On September 11, 2001, 19 men (mostly of Saudi citizenship) hijacked four airplanes and drove those planes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon - 2,992 people died that day (including the hijackers). Unlike Mr. McVeigh who used explosives - the hijackers on 9/11 smuggled absolutely nothing aboard the airliners. They were "armed" with box cutters which were considered acceptable items to have in your carry on luggage.

On December 21, 1988, Pan Am Flight 103 was brought down over Lockerbie, Scotland, by a bomb placed in the cargo hold of the plane, probably in a suitcase. Two hundred seventy people died.

Since September 11th we have had two ineffectual attempts at bringing down aircraft. One by a guy trying to light his shoes on fire in front of other passengers and the Christmas Day underwear "bomber" who set himself on fire.

Yet we are still involved in two wars as a result of these acts, wars that have left more Americans dead than were killed in all the criminal acts listed above. Thousands more Muslim citizens of Iraq and Afghanistan are dead. Our "Change We Can Believe In" president is now looking at Yemen - oh that's right, I forgot about the USS Cole attack by speed boat that killed 17 sailors-Yemen has been fingered by the "alleged" bomber. No one talks any more about the Indian suit who placed him on the plane without a passport, declaring him to be a Sudanese refugee.

The insane performance art we call "airport security" will now include full body scans. That's right, those high school graduate TSA employees will get to see what you look like beneath your knickers all in the name of alleged security.

To what end?

How many remember what the 1980's were like under Ronald Reagan? This would be during the years when the former Soviet Union was the evil empire and thousands of nuclear war heads were pointed in both directions - oh, wait, I think most of them still are. I used to have post apocalyptic nightmares. The fear kept the Military Industrial Complex very, very busy though and many people made lots of money while we all kept looking over our shoulder for the Red Menace.

Sadly though that all went away as the weight of failed Communism was brought crashing down along with the Berlin Wall and the Iron Curtain. What's a Military Industrial Complex to do?

I've used the joke about the guy looking for his keys under the street lamp even though he dropped them 1/2 a block away because the light is better before. Well, George W. Bush decided the light was better in Iraq after 9/11 - plus Saddam was sitting on all this oil... Besides, the Saudi Americans were the Bushs' friends...er I mean America's friends. All the talk about what's-his-name...oh, yeah, Osama Bin Laden...he was busy running around in Afghanistan, so we gradually just forgot about him over time.

A rental truck, some fertilizer, box cutters, an unattended suitcase...

How is any of what has been implemented in the name of security really protecting us? Or is it all just about redecorating the Cold War for a whole new era? Instead of bomb shelters and duck and cover drills, we have full body scans at the airport. We are apparently willing to swallow any and all cock and bull stories from this evil government of ours because they have succeeded in making us afraid...and the Military Industrial Complex purrs along. Did I happen to mention that contractors have become a very lucrative sub-category of the MIC?

Can anyone explain to me how if the threat is so real from the legion of foaming at the mouth Islamists that hate this country so much (for the life of me I can't understand why...) we have no real method for examining the vast numbers of shipping containers deposited in our port cities and distributed throughout the country...except, of course, that we haven't been attacked in that manner.

Millions of American drive through the tunnels in and out of NYC, under the Chesapeake Bay, BART runs its trains under San Francisco Bay...security? minimal if at all, but, oh yeah, we haven't been attacked in that manner.

Well, we have such intense security guarding our rapidly aging nuclear power plants...or, wait, nope - guess we don't. Then again, we haven't been attacked in that manner.

In fact, think of all the buses, trains, crowded football stadiums, baseball games, think of the huge crowds at most airports trying to get through security...where are all the attacks? Why the f*ck are we so willing to hand over our personal liberty to a government that clearly doesn't give a rat's ass about the little people? When did we turn into such mindless cattle?

I have sat back and watched as our government handed over hundreds of millions of dollars to banks "too big to fail" who have yet to start loaning money again to the little people. Those same banks turned around and handed out yet another batch of big fat bonus checks to the criminals who raped us all in the first place.

We are about to watch the passage of a health care "reform" bill that is really just a big hand out to the insurance companies. All the empty promises that we swallowed during the campaign have come to naught. You can be damn sure that the spin and celebration following the big signature will be over the top.

What was Mandy Patinkin's line from that song from Evita? "As soon as the smoke from the funeral clears, we're all going to see...how...she did nothing for years."

So we watch as more and more of our paychecks are taken for poorer and poorer health coverage - while more and more of us lose the little coverage we have. Yet the money for endless "War on Terror" never seems to be in short supply.

Today fighter jets escorted a plane that reportedly had a problem with a passenger. What exactly do you think the fighter jets were there for? Think about it...for the safety and security of the passengers? Try again... Remember there are those who don't buy the propaganda story about the fourth plane over Pennsylvania...will we ever know if fighter jets didn't intervene?

Oh, yeah, and the TSA arrested a poor guy from Bakersfield and shut down an airport for two hours over some honey - this was his destination by the way...he was arriving with the honey. Good thing it really wasn't that TNT variety of honey that explodes during the last hour of flight when you can no longer move about the cabin...what a joke...what a sad, sad joke.

And the Military Industrial Complex rolls merrily along...and Wall Street is happy...and the likes of Dick Cheney and the company formerly known as Blackwater are happy...and George Bush and Company laugh all the way to the bank.

Avoidance

I hate treating the Holy Spirit like a Ouija Board, but sometimes I can't help it. All day I've been dancing around, checking the Internet sites over and over, and avoiding posting to my blog. I've felt out of sorts and have posted a number of Facebook status updates to that effect, and have accomplished very little.

At the risk of sounding like a complete lunatic...I spend a great deal of time these days feeling in harmony with Life. You know, it is like when crystals vibrate in harmony with a particular frequency - that kind of feeling. Most fundamentalist folk "put their trust in the Lord." That's kind of what I try to do, but I just hate saying it that way. I trust that was is...is--for a reason. More often then not, I am in harmony, I feel good, and little coincidences seem to occur that have no significant meaning for me except as indicators that I'm on track. For example, the day that I locked in the house as mine - I drove out to see it again - as I pulled back onto the road to head back into town feeling elated, I turned on the car radio and the very next song was Pet Shop Boys "What Have I Done To Deserve This?"

This is not a Little Mary Sunshine feeling - I can feel this way during the most trying of times or I can have an off day like today when everything seems like it should be copacetic. Today feels like no matter how hard I try I am not able to clap to the rhythm. I don't feel in harmony - things just don't seem to be right.

However, I finally sat down ready to confront this feeling - battle the avoidance - even though I wasn't sure what to say until that word came to mind. "Larry, you've been avoiding this for some reason." Yeah, avoidance, I'm sure I have something to say about this right now.

I did a Google image search for "avoidance" and found the picture above with the label "Conflict Avoidance" and--bingo--Holy Spirit Ouija Board. Let me try and explain.

For starters, there's this younger straight guy who I really like - it is what it is - I'm not wishing for the impossible. The last time we spoke was before Thanksgiving, earlier in November I lent him a book. However, over the past few weeks I called him at least four different times and got no response.

I have spent much time and energy in the past romantically chasing after gay men who simply were not interested...so I have baggage in the area of forced pursuit of any kind - friendship, romance, whatever. I was perfectly content to simply walk away from the situation, but I wanted my book back. I had no idea how to proceed and with each day I was getting more irritated by the situation.

I finally involved a third party and she followed up with a phone call. In the interim though his path and mine crossed yesterday afternoon and we had a good conversation and resolved what was occurring. One of the key themes of our discussion was "Conflict Avoidance" (his and mine).

Next there was a pair of comments on a Facebook thread today on a post by another cyber friend of mine - they appeared completely disconnected from the rest of the thread and seemed to be the resolution of a conflict. Between the pair of them they noted how e-mail/cell phone/cyber conversation is often misunderstood without body language and yet how face-to-face conversation tends to avoid getting to the heart of the matter...in other words "Conflict Avoidance."

Also, Elizabeth Kaeton put up a post on her blog - Telling Secrets - in which she responds to the bay having frozen over which leads her to a post on frozen people - people who are locked down. This too seems to fit my theme - "Conflict Avoidance."

Another cyber friend appears to not be "speaking" to me, ironically in that he recently made a broad accusation about people being passive aggressive. This, of course, is not the first example of his pot calling our kettle black. However, passive aggressive behavior = "Conflict Avoidance."

And so my feeling of the Holy Spirit being a Ouija Board - with one image search, the message comes forth and the fog clears a bit.

Why is it so hard for us to deal with perceived conflict? I hate conflict - it triggers all of my neurotic buttons. I have to work hard to plow through the anxiety and come to a resolution. My fear of conflict is so pathological, at times, I think it is at the root of my desire to just disappear when my depression tries to get the best of me. Life seems like an endless string of potential conflicts and I often feel like I'm having to watch my every word.

More than fear of others' anger, I think I am afraid of my own anger, and so I disallow it. I've gotten better though far from being healed. I try to depersonalize the anger - treat it like it is it's own entity.

I don't know if I will be able to adequately explain this. In the past, I have not allowed myself to be angry. Who am I to be angry? You don't deserve to be angry? Stop being such a baby! All you will do is hurt somebody's feelings so buck up and shut up!

So for me it starts with acknowledging the emotion: I am feeling anger. I treat it like it is outside of me - like "I am wet." I don't really own the wetness - it's not my wet. It just is. By acknowledging it - I don't inadvertently spew it onto someone else, even the person who has angered me.

This gives me a bit of time to think: What is complicating the situation here? Am I tired? Am I hungry? Am I tired & hungry? (a VERY dangerous combination for me) Has something else affected me that I haven't dealt with adequately? (for example, realizing I'm still grieving the loss of Cosmo)

After I've worked through that, which honestly now only takes me a matter of seconds when I'm together enough to work it, then I say "Or is this individual being a complete ass and does it really affect me?" If I answer "yes" and "yes" then the really hard part comes next. Making the following statement in a private one on one manner - "When you do A, it makes me feel B."

Honestly, even now, that is the most difficult moment - when Conflict Avoidance sings his siren song the sweetest and loudest, and the temptation to bury my personal need appears as comfortable as flannel sheets on a winter morning, but I try my best to push on through to the other side, and more often than not the result is positive. Peace.

Alone Together

I have been reading up on the history of Western thought, Christian thought, etc. My first instinct this morning was to go back and reread to be certain to get it all correct before posting. However, I realized that I could make my point regardless, and those adventurous souls who care to dig deeper can do their own reading.

Much of what amounted to the early dogma (didn't use to be a bad word) of the church borrowed heavily from Greek philosophy. As such, most of these books I am enjoying all begin with an introduction to Plato, Aristotle, et al. A key point of theirs, summed up rather simplistically here, involves universal images that may or may not exist apart from physical reality.

This boiled down to what is more real - the image we have in our mind or the physical image presented to us by our senses? If I were to say "Rose" (thank you Umberto Eco) - something pops into being in your mind...is that merely a stored memory of a particular rose? a stored amalgam of many roses' memories? or perhaps it is an image based on THE rose that exists in God's mind?

Now assume that for some reason a beloved friend has given you a New Year's rose in a vase - this gets philosophically complicated because you are still seeing a rose in your mind and I am asking you to imagine a rose physically before you. Which rose is the most real?

Before you answer...this is a variation on the if a tree falls in the forest with no one to hear it does it make a sound? Is the accumulation of rapidly deteriorating cells of carbon-based material before your eyes the REAL rose or is the rose that is now in your mind with all of the emotional attachment, that will last long after the petals have withered and fallen, the REAL rose? What does the physical object matter without the mind's eye?

All will soon be made clear...

Last night I was an integral part of a New Year's Eve party. It was one of the more rewarding New Year's Eves that I have experienced. Now if you are unable to wrap your heads around the idea that the imagined rose is more real, what follows will be very much "glass-is-half-empty" for you, and for that I am deeply sorry.

As Maria explains nicely at Kirkepiscatoid, we created something out of nothing last night. Earlier in the day, a seemingly random status update over Doris Day gradually morphed into a virtual party on Facebook. I was all ready to spend a quiet evening at home; New Year's Eve being one of the nights where the lack of television is felt a bit more than usual.

Instead a number of my cyber friends "gathered" and we partied utilizing the gifts of modern technology - our computers, internet connections, Facebook, You Tube, etc. Folks were posting video of their favorite music from the past. Maria was sharing wall posts of virtual food and drinks. It hit me that the feel of the party was very similar to gathering with friends in Junior High and playing our cherished 45 r.p.m. singles for each other.

So what has this to do with Greek philosophy and imagined roses and such?

We struggled with the concept of whether or not what we were experiencing was REAL. In typical American fashion we questioned the validity of our enjoyment based on cultural assumptions. After all, none of us were physically at a party, wearing our actual party attire, chemical hair products shining forth from our do's, sloshing down ETOH in a variety of store bought forms, snacking on processed food and chemicals...

Like the flower above it is easy to confuse the actual sensory experience of the molecules as reality. To do so we have to discredit everything else that occurs in our brain simultaneously. I would argue that our party was completely REAL - our brains were filled with images of cyber friends, most of which I have never met face to face. The bar and buffet was all there in my mind's eye - no less real than the memory of the McDonald's burger I had consumed earlier in the day. There was an exchange of ideas and expressions of love and friendship.

Would you really be ready to trade all of that for the mere presence of molecules of ETOH in your stomach and the presence of someone else's furniture under your butt? This will be where the glass-is-half-empty folks will demand to point out that the glass is in fact half empty, not half full.

"But a REAL party will have all of that together..." No, a PHYSICAL party will still allow the joys we experienced, the thoughts and emotions present in our minds, while we experience ALL of the demands of a physical/sensory party, which will include the primping, driving, cooking/buying, body image neurosis, sexual partner stalking, drunkenness, consumption of unnecessary calories, safe? drive home, restless sleep, clean up, and morning headache.

IMHO, when one focuses on what is truly important about a gathering of friends, we achieved that last night...or as Maria pointed out we achieved the impossible because we spontaneously gathered up friends from all over the country, shared our music, and counted down to midnight.

We all "danced" alone together. Robert Thomas, cyber friend from Alaska, posted the following status update on Facebook this morning:

"My thought for the new year: "Those who dance are considered insane by those who can't hear the music" - George Carlin. This year - I intend to dance."

Last night the glass was insanely half full and oh did we dance.

Peace and love to all. Happy New Year!