I’ve been pondering a return to Xanga…but it seems like so few are still here.
As an aside, does anyone follow their “footprints” on here? The listing of those who’ve visited your site? Apparently I’m VERY popular in the District of Columbia and Belgium. Who ARE you?
Happy New Year’s!
I not sure what it is, but something is different. As a kid, I often heard that sin was subtle and sneaky. Super Mario could lead to school shootings and dancing to premarital sex. In the same way, Ie come to believe that my current state of mind was a subtle and sneaky conversion. It seems like just yesterday, I was happily trilling along as a world citizen, ignorantly blissful of my own nature. But I sit here now, unsure of the individual steps that led me here, but aware of the overall, general process. What was that initial catalyst that made me question the status quo? I don know; I just know that I did. Am I happier now than I was then? No. Undoubtedly, no. I think it possible, but I just not there yet.
I listened to a podcast sermon today. The pastor talked about Truth. How can we undoubtedly prove that Christianity is true? His conclusion: we can. But a-ha! There no way he was going to leave it at that. His solution? Trust. Believe. He can now confidently say, believe that my faith is true, but I cannot prove that it is. I must have faith.?/P>
So now we come to the crux of the issue. And that is, that I think his conclusion is a load of bollocks. I have a limited knowledge of church history, but I know enough to realize that aith?is the cornerstone of abuse, the trump card that lined the coffers of rich and cruel church leaders, and the cool, pseudo-powerful catch phrase that people use when they don have a @%$&# clue.
It crazy to me that people risk their eternity on someone else word. I wonder if I asked the bank to borrow five hundred thousand dollars, and when they asked how I planned on paying it back, I suggested that they simply have faith. Believe me, I will!
Is it too much to want proof? Is the Bible’s doubting Thomas a coincidence? So that I should now, two thousand years later, feel bad about being a skeptic? Is it too much for God to provide faith in his existence? Ok ok, nevermind that, because I do believe in a God. But perhaps I just like a little help with the details.
Ghandi said: like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.?So, if God commanded Christians to be his ight?in the world, and that is to be our roof?upon which faith in eternity is based?what going wrong? And who, really, is going to be in the hot seat when God decides to call this gig quits?
Matt Lewis, you may appreciate this!
Old school academics, who had no such options, often turned to opiates and/or absynthe to achieve this sense of enlightenment. For myself, however, a moral inventory without the necessity of rehab is most optimal. My spirit might thank me, but my kidneys surely wouldn’t.
The thing is this: what will those last few seconds of life contain, be they lucid? A frantic, gasping, “What have I done with my life!” moment, or a peaceful, fading away, “All is well because I’ve done well!” moment? Aside from any eternal ramifications of lifestyle, a healthy perspective/demeanor can really enhance the enjoyment of life on earth. Partying is fun, but reality is better. Drugs can feel good, but a clear mind superior. Retreat is easy, but confrontation is more productive.
Ahh, just some musings. Happy Birthday, Virginia…just in case I forget to email! I love you.
~Andrew
This is seriously the best thing since sliced bread.
Pardon the serious nature of my last post and allow me to step up onto the soapbox for a moment.
Where have I been hiding all these years? Why am I just now privy to the Conservative lunacy of Ann Coulter? It all started with the innocent perusal of the non-fiction section at my local library. Politics. Well, I’m not interested in reading the laws that make this great nation (supposedly) work, but am interested in what people say in response to these laws.
Ann Coulter is just the type of person who makes me violent. And they wonder why people like me are for gun control? You make us violent, all you Ann Coulters. It’s for your own good. It’s ironic that the very people who spent a billion dollars on a media-watch program cannot fathom how their glib and outrageously misinformed public statements might be [mis]construed. Do we, the collective public, assume they’re being light-hearted and congenial? When Coulter says that “…They [Canada] better hope the United States doesn’t roll over one night and crush them. They are lucky we allow them to exist on the same continent.”? This, coming from the mouth of the woman who discredits 9/11 widows of money-grubbing usury. This, coming from the mouth of a woman who kisses Conservative, Saudi sand-powdered bung-holio on a daily basis. Slick lips, that one has.
I tire of the moral high ground vs. [in]tolerant debate. Why do people feel it’s necessary to tell you what they believe, but not nicely? When did it become popular to be the funniest-meanest kid on the block? Call me crazy, but I always hoped and prayed for the day the neighbourhood bullies fell and skinned their knees. In like fashion, I don’t think I’d shed a tear if Coulter tripped on her Conservative-funded-fascist-Manolo’s and bloodied her chin, which, incidentally, fits nicely in the crack of Sean Hannity’s ass.
Man, do I need to be sleeping instead of doing this.
My end has been predicted: At the age of 36, a group of children will begin to text message you continuously for three years, eventually distracting you while driving and causing a fatal wreck.
Awesome. More to come.
____________
**Edit: So, the “more to come” has come. I just can’t sleep on this ridiculous excuse for a sofa-bed the group home has provided me with. I’ve been thinking lately about that pesky law of thermodynamics. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I think this can largely be applied to relationships. Who ever knew that the things one does can (and does often) profoundly affect one or more people? Who knows, while bent in rage or drunkenness or flippancy or disregard, the possible outcome? Damage inflicted?
God…it really makes me ill. Two things I’ve learned this past year that I just need to get off my chest:
1) You, me, everyone…we all have the profound and relatively easy ability to completely emotionally destroy a person. If you’re going to be a parent, friend, spouse, lover, whatever…be mindful of that. I see too much in this line of work that makes me wonder why we don’t just sterilize everyone and call it a day.
2) We have the profound and relatively difficult ability to repair and heal and help. This is much more difficult, and it seems as though we’re not all in it for the right reasons. Let’s get to it. Pony up.
Well, those two things and more. I feel like I need to say a lot.
I interviewed my grandfather last week. On film, with my cousin, Ryan. He’s been diagnosed with loads of cancer throughout his bones and blood and vital organs, with the exception of his brain. At any rate, I wonder if he ever felt inadequate in the presence of *his* grandfather. He sang to us an old German hymn, he recounted his early days of youth on the farm, his honeymoon destination, his singing tour–through Alberta and Saskatchewan–with Chief White Feather. Huh? Really. World War 2. Raising four successful children, who produced scads of grandchildren. A man of integrity and esteem.
I’m tempted more and more to just cut Xanga out altogether. I feel like I want to say things on here that I shouldn’t be saying. I also feel this old-time restraint slipping away. I think…why bother with it all when I can’t say what I want to say? When I don’t think people would want to hear what I have to say? When I feel limited to silly anecdotes and “Well, today was ok…” blah blah blah?
Thoughts of a fatigued, slightly discouraged fellow.
