even more

from 30 nihilistic nocturnes: heroine tracks down Shadow in the labyrinth of the unconscious - note doves circling around in a dust-moted beam of light - the imprimatur of quality cinematography

Though our eyes, through practice, fairly gauge the size of objects and locate them in space, we lack a comparable organ that through exercise would evaluate the real size and location of interior objects - hence we too often cower before the minutia of our psyches - granting overwhelming power to presences and doctrines that are long since passed.

from an unpublished apocalyptic cookbook: "she whisked in on Ole 666, battered, promiscuous with milk and flour - when the rolls are culled upon her, isle bee da."

crazy the way I find myself, trying to do things by myself, as if I could solve my problems on my own - like trying to open the door at the top of the stairs with both arms full

Growing up as a child, I was treated to countless preachers focusing on my internal state - where there was guilt aplenty to be mined. If this seems to be what you are encountering, I encourage you to ignore them: they are simply pushing buttons for easy results. Do not go forward - let them play 70 verses of "just as I am". We are called to a life of love and service exemplifying grace. Stirring up guilt; talking about hell; talking about the end of the world- isn't grace and it's not love and it's not service. Be kind to your wounds and the wounds in others.

I believe most revival services could qualify as a form of child abuse - child abuse by loving, well meaning (though some people perhaps get a sadistic kick out of it) people who think they are sincerely expressing the gospel.

 A child confronted with the claims of the typical revival sermon - that we're vile, sinful creatures that sin just by looking in the mirror, sin without even knowing they're sinning, and were born sinful to top it off -They believe they're inherently bad because an adult up front is telling them they're bad - they have not developed defenses against bull shit that adults have. Instead they grow up with the cognitive dissonance that the loving God hates them - hates them for something they can never repair. You can imagine the emotionally crippled adults this kind of thing develops.

 It just hit me this morning, the words for what bugged me about the whole thing growing up. Children have no defenses on the outside - but also on the inside. They simply believe whatever adults tell them. And even after the outside is strong and can defend itself, the inside is left undefended. And it occurred to me: this is where a lot of the emotional damage I feel comes from - before I could defend myself. How many other people must be feeling this, carrying this. While the adults doing it think they're being tough, delivering the 'truth' of the gospel. That's bunk. In any other context, a parent seeing another adult manipulate a child like that would fight back - but since we're all sitting in good clothes in a pew on Sunday, that makes it OK.

Jami and I, talking about our five year age difference: 
Me: Do you remember Jack Benny?
J: No.
Me: Do you remember Red Skeleton?
J: Oh sure, on Sanford and Son. 
[hilarity ensues]

This from my friend, Tricia Dillon Thomas: "I'm asking your permission/telling you that I'm using you as an illustration in my sermon tomorrow about Solomon's wish for wisdom: "I have a friend Fred who is an artist and a preacher. And when he finally brought those two gifts together, his sermons painted our imaginations with riches words could never find. I think if Fred painted wisdom, it would be with oils so that the canvas would be bumpy from the globs of paint smacked down on top of one another… where the ending of one image leapt to the side for the beginning of another. And it would be abstract and full of colors. There would be moments of harmony in the colors, except every once in a while you’d see a bright yellow or red streak that looked out of place, except when you started to really pay attention, you noticed it actually helped tie the whole piece together."

considering how some children are given their first name from the mother's or grandmother's maiden name, I wonder how different my life would be if I were King Wise. King Wise would get things done.