Matching Tracksuits

society and culture

Prayer Warriors

Sunday 21 August 2005

I’ve never understood that phrase, though I’ve read it from time to time. It’s a good enough term for members of the Presidental Prayer Team.

They’re stated goal:

The goal of The Presidential Prayer Team was to enlist 1% of the American population or 2.8 million people, to pray for the President, both this administration and future administrations. This goal was reached on May 1, 2003, just 600 days after The Presidential Prayer Team was launched. Plans are in the works to establish new goals and objectives of the Prayer Team. It is our sincere belief that this effort could radically alter the future of our country as our President and our nation are prayed for on a daily basis.

Further, regarding the issue of whether the effort is “affiliated with any political party, elected official or governmental agency,” we read,

The Presidential Prayer Team is a spiritual movement of the American people which is not affiliated with any political party or official. It gains no direction or support, official or unofficial, from the current administration, from any agency of the government or from any political party, so that it may be free and unencumbered to equally serve the prayer needs of all current and future leaders of our great nation.

But really, will they still be around when there’s a Democrat in the White House? And if they are, will the issues on their pray list be apolitical (i.e., not decidedly pro-life)?

Quick Fixes

Saturday 20 August 2005

Oil prices approach $70 a barrel, with analysts saying an even $100 a barrel is not unrealistic.

Politicians say there’s little we can do about it, and point out that the national average is still not as high as the inflation-adjusted prices of 1981 of $3.11.

“I wish I could say there is a quick fix, but there is not,” said Rep. Bob Beauprez, a Colorado Republican who is expected to face a tough reelection campaign next year. “Everybody is feeling the pinch.” (Washington Post)

Everybody is feeling the pinch, but I’m sure Bush’s oil company cronies are feeling it less than we mortals. Such is the reality of a market economy, some might say, shrugging their shoulders and walking away.

Quick fixes? We had thirty years to solve this problem. What did we learn from the late—70s, when long queues at the pump helped force Carter out of the White House? Apparently nothing. Hybrid car sales are most certainly rising — we’re thinking the next car we buy will have to be hybrid — but it all seems too little too late. No one is in a position to thumb his nose at the oil cartels and say, “Screw you! We just won’t buy your oil.”

China would surely be grateful.

We’ve built our entire civilization on fossil fuels, and it seems that the people sitting on said fuels will soon be realizing the power they wield. OPEC has us by the gonads, and has for decades. We saw in the late—70s what could happen, and yet our dependence only grew.

Not only that, but in America we’ve built our culture on a sense of independence that somehow dictates that we all have cars, that we fill our highways with cars transporting only the driver and a cell phone.

Lawmakers also cannot easily suspend or reduce the 18.4-cent-per-gallon federal tax on gasoline. That money goes straight into a trust fund for covering highway and mass-transit upgrades. When gas prices climbed in the 1990s, some Republicans were quick to call for lowering the tax. This time, however, Congress has boxed itself in by passing the largest-ever transportation bill just before leaving for the August recess.

And how much of that transportation bill was aimed at improving public transportation? If you live in a larger city, a car might not even be necessary. Living in Poland showed me that even if you live in the boondocks, a car is not completely necessary. A nice convenience, but not a necessity.

Sen. John F. Kerry (D-Mass.) and others say Bush should take a harder line with Saudi Arabia and other oil-producing nations, and demand that they release more oil and help push down the price of oil, which hit a record $66 per barrel this week. But skeptics say that approach has not worked in the past. “We have to realize they have the oil, and it’s a seller’s market,” Beauprez said.

Don’t worry — Bush will find a reason to attack them soon enough and then we’ll have all the oil we need.

Wasn’t this Iraq thing supposed to be about oil? Isn’t that what we bleeding hearts have been saying all along, that the WMD charges were just a smoke screen to justify a long-planned war? For whom could that oil be intended?

Even if that obstacle could be surmounted, “if you roll back that tax, people have to keep in mind that may not transfer into savings for consumers,” said American Automobile Association spokesman Mantill Williams. “It’s not automatic [that gasoline firms] will give that discount to the consumer.”

Oh — right. Right. Bush’s and Condie’s and, well, the whole administration’s buddies in the oil industry are getting their campaign contributions back many times over. It was a sound investment.

America, goes the cliché, where we have the best politicians money can buy.

Oil companies have us over a pork barrel and that’s that. We drive buy a service station and, noticing that the prices has jumped up two cents overnight, cut in quickly to fill up before it goes up again — even if there’s three-quarters’ of a tank still in the car. We buy their product even when we don’t need it at the moment…

Belief

Friday 19 August 2005

There’s something fascinating about the character of Barabbas in the Bible. He is the ultimate Christian type for all humanity, for Jesus literally dies for him according to the Gospels. Though the tradition is recorded nowhere outside the Bible, the Gospels tell us that it was the custom to release one prisoner around Passover time, and the crowds (who through the centuries become simply “Jews”) demand Barabbas be released and Jesus crucified.

Par Lagerkvist wrote a novella in the 1950’s about Barabbas after the crucifixion, about his desire to believe, to convert to Christianity, but his inability to go through with it. He sees Jesus crucified; he’s at the tomb at Easter (though of course he doesn’t see the resurrection, simply the empty tomb afterwards), and yet he still doesn’t believe.

It’s the curse of modern times — a will to believe and yet an inability to do so. Winifred Galligher writes of this in Working on God. The modern solution, Rabbi Burton Visotzky tells Galligher, is a fight:

[Belief] may be the battle of your life, but emotionally and intellectually, it could also be the most exhilarating one you’ve ever engaged in. Whether you experience God’s reality or are just intellectually intrigued by the idea, God can be a very real force in peoples’ lives – spiritual, emotional, supportive – that almost no other system can offer. But you must gird yourself for a fight and know that you’re going to have to try to reconcile very difficult things. Or at least hold them in suspension and bounce them back and forth and get tired. There’s no quick fix, but we have the benefit of drawing on thousands of years of religious thinking. You can’t learn it over a weekend. It’s an engagement for the rest of your life. (261)

More so than during Kierkegaard’s life, it boils down, for some, to a Kierkegaardian leap of faith. Evolutionary theory and the general advances of some sciences make belief unbelievable, but for some there’s always an intellectual draw toward the idea of a great Something More.

Barabbas probably believed in a Something More. He was, after all, a first-century Jew and by many accounts, a Zealot, hoping an overthrow of Roman control over Jerusalem would hasten the Messiah’s return. What Langerkvist’s Barabbas is struggling for is not a believe in God, but a belief that he himself saw God in the flesh, however oxymoronically that might have seemed then, or still seem now. Langerkvist’s Barabbas then is a parable of someone who is having trouble trusting a first hand experience of what others called the divine.

If it was that difficult for him, think how much more so it must be for us, separated 20 centuries from the historical object of faith.

“I want to believe.” That seems to be the cry of many in the twenty-first century. William James argued that that very will to believe was sufficient in some situations, namely those like religion which cannot be concluded on purely rational grounds.

Why believe, though? There are those of us who are torn, who sometimes think it would be wonderful to fall on their knees in thankful prayer but mostly think religion is an antiquated relic that will pass with time. It’s the experiential factor that is most unnerving for such folk:

Let’s not get too hard on the Holy Roman Church here. The Church has its problems, but the older I get, the more comfort I find there. The physical experience of being in a crowd of largely humble people, heads bowed, murmuring prayers, stories told in stained-glass windows … (Interview with Bono, from U2)

Seeing others people’s faith used to make me shake my head in disbelief. “How can people be so gullible, so naïve?” I used to think. But the older I get, the more fascinating it is, especially hearing the echo of five hundred people reciting the creed that’s been the backbone of Christian belief for centuries.

Mindless repetition for some, but looking at some folks’ faces, it’s easy to see the depth of belief there.

Swimming in Culture

Wednesday 13 July 2005

How many cultural issues can you spot in the image of an American man going to buy swimming trunks? More than you’d expect.

Sunday Kinga and I went out with friends of the family on their houseboat. Those who can read Polish got more details form Kinga, but suffice it to say that water skiing was one of the afternoon activities and Kinga got up on her first try.

Before going, though, I needed a pair of swimming trunks. I have a pair that I bought in Poland, but I’d not be seen in public wearing those in the States. They are, in a word, Speedos. I bought the longest pair the store had, but they’re still skin tight and extremely skimpy. What is it about European men wearing Speedos all the time?

I have nothing against Speedos in the proper context. In fact, I’ve worn them many times — in competitive swimming events. But walking around the beach? Swimming around in a lake? It seems like taking a Ferrari to the corner store for a pack of cigarettes — completely unwarranted and a more-than-slight exaggeration.

So, not wanting to parade around in Speedos yet wanting to save as much money as possible, Kinga and I did the logical thing: we went to Wal-Mart to buy swimming trunks.

It was a mistake.

Wal-Mart is, arguably, one of the cheaper stores in the States, which means it attracts a certain clientele from a certain socio-economic group of people. I don’t know if in fact that has anything to do with the fact that literally 95% of the trunks we found were size XXL, but I have my suspicions. And the colors and designs: Lord, I left with a headache.

I ended up leaving with a pair of violently bright green shorts because they were the only pair I could find that were size large. They’re too big for me, but I feared one of the three “Mediums” we found would be too small.

In the Mirror: Church and Culture

Monday 27 June 2005

Even if you never looked at any other cultural aspect, you could learn a lot about the differences between America and Poland simply by attending one Mass in each country.

American society is more egalitarian and open, and the Mass in an American Catholic church reflects this. Boys and girls both serve as altar — what? Children? The division between priest and layperson dissolves as laypeople–including women–hand out the host for communion.

Polish society is much more patriarchal and hierarchical. Girls serving as altar helpers would be scandalous, and the priest really is seen as, spiritually speaking if not otherwise, a notch above the average layperson. He, and only he, can hand out the host.

Other striking differences:

  • In giving the sign of peace, husbands and wives gave each other a friendly kiss. In Poland, you just don’t kiss in the church. It’s not the place for affection.
  • Immediately after services, congregants began mingling and chatting. You don’t chat in church in Poland. Kinga once gave me a poke in the ribs for trying out to some small talk with an ex-student sitting beside me in Mass.
  • In Poland, the formality of the occasion is reflected in the priest’s chanting voice. Here, the priest simply spoke the liturgy.
  • In Poland, you might get to partake of the communion wine twice in your life. Here, one could conceivably have a sip every day.

What was most striking for me occurred early on in the sermon. The first reading of the Mass dealt with Elijah being given a place to stay and promising his hostess that in a year, she would be pregnant. The priest summarized this as “hospitality.” He talked about different forms of hospitality, then mentioned “passive” hospitality. It included, and this is no exaggeration, not complaining about higher taxes used to support a war which gives Iraqi people their first chance at freedom. In one, short sentence, the priest showed

  1. He’s a Republican.
  2. American priests have no problem mixing politics and religion.
  3. He so desperately wanted to mention and support the war that he mentioned it in a most inappropriate way, basically calling it an act of hospitality.

Kinga was a bit disappointed by it. It was not much of a surprise for me, though.

Oświęcim

Tuesday 14 June 2005

Tomorrow Kinga and I are hoping to go to Oświęcim, known of course to most of the world as Auschwitz. I’ve lived within sixty miles of it for seven years now, but I’ve never gotten the nerve to go visit. Though it seems a most depressing thing to do in our last week in Poland, Kinga and I decided that for precisely that reason – that we only have a few more days here – we should go while we have the chance.

It’s a bad time to go. Visiting Auschwitz always seemed more appropriate in the winter. Perhaps in some childish attempt to empathize with the victims, I always imagined going in the coldest period of winter, and purposely not dressing properly, as if my few hours of numbness makes up for anything. As if I should be making up for anything. Going in the late spring makes it somehow seem more frivolous, as if I’d feel compelled to stand in front of the famous “Arbeit Macht Frei” sign in my sandals and shorts and pose for a tasteless picture.

The whole issue of pictures itself is troubling. Should I? I don’t want to be a tourist, but what choice do I have? I don’t want to cheapen the experience by taking snapshots, but I also realize that it’s an opportunity of sorts. In then end, I’ll probably take a roll of black and white film and try to take some “artsy” shots.

It also seems like something one should experience alone. Discussion could too easily fall into idle chit-chat, I fear, but the reality is, the weight of the sense of tragedy there will silence us.

Tele-Guru

Saturday 11 June 2005

American Protestantism has lead the way in using modern technology to spread its gospel. Radio and television have long been the preferred method of evangelism for small Protestant groups (usually “fundamentalist” or “evangelical,” however you want to construe those labels historically) that have the money, and when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Protestantism, though it claims to be a unified body of believers — a great invisible, church, “unified in Christ” — is really the biggest religious market in the world. Sure, they all believe in Jesus, but each group wants you to support its version of Jesus. So, much like Pepsi and Coke battling for your soft drink dollar, Rod Parsley is going head-to-head with Benny Hinn, trying to get you to send your “seed offering” (and you just know what some pervert has done…) to his group.

It seems that America no longer holds a monopoly on commercial religion. Indian Gurus are catching on to the fact that not all spiritual teaching has to be done in an ashram.

As the [Indian] national economy blossoms, the role of the guru as someone who helps his followers find enlightenment is evolving: Many spiritual guides are now smooth marketers with, often enough, a considerable knowledge of how to maximize their commercial appeal.

Many gurus have been forced to revolutionize their practices — packaging and aggressively marketing their religious services to cater to the changing desires of the consumer. Some have adopted the style of Western televangelists to promote their message.

Maybe a Hindu version of TBN is in the offing?

What’s amazing is that these gurus are not only copying the televangelist style, but also the content, offering their own health-and-wealth gospel, it seems:

Personnel departments in big firms are calling on spiritual gurus to help new recruits handle the tensions of modern working life.

Spirituality shops offering “health and wealth kits” are doing good business, and newly created religious channels on domestic television are expanding their reach into millions of homes.

Herb, Rod, Benny, Robert (as in Tilton, as in “The Farting Preacher”), and myrad other American “entrepreneurs” would be proud, I’m sure.

Read the whole IHT article.

I Wanna Fly Away

Monday 6 June 2005

I knew it was going to be an interesting evening when, browsing the hosts’ bookselves, I saw the title Astral Projection.

“I’m a pagan,” explained the hostess, and suddenly I wished I had a hidden camera.

Learn how to leave your body–walk through walls–fly around your neighborhood–meet your deceased loved ones and astral spirits–communicate with your guides and teachers–experience other dimensions–and even travel through time to witness past or future events! And Much Much More! 100 percent Guaranteed…

Later in the evening, I overheard the hostess saying, “When I mention love spells, people ask me, ‘Oh, you can cast spells?! Can you make that cute guy fall in love with me?!’ I just laugh and say, ‘It doesn’t work that way.'”

It works, just not that way. How, pray tell, would a “love spell” work, then?

Of course, I wandered around the ‘net for a while the next day. I found this:

Hi. My name is Bob. I’m slowly becoming more and more interested in astral travel but have a few questions. Would you please help me with these?? I included all of you after reading the testimony you gave on machoneaudio.com. Serious responces [sic] only please.

  1. Are you ever in any danger when you are having an OBE? (i.e. demons, evil spirits, danger of not being able to come back, …)
  2. Can you use these OBE for the purposes of becoming a person more loving??
  3. Do you meet angels/gardian [sic] spirits??? If so, what do they say to you??
  4. Have you ever attempted to draw near to the heavenly realms, and what happened if you did??

Again, please bare with me. I always was under the impression that this kinda thing was either dangerous or unhealthy.

I simply have some questions that I want to ask people who have done this theirselves, instead of simply reading a book.

I would appreciate your time and advice, whatever you think I should hear!

I knew that he didn’t want a smart-ass response, and I realized as I typed away, giggling, that I was being very childish…but I couldn’t resist:

Some tips about astral project/travel:

  1. It’s the 21st century, so don’t get caught up in silly gimmicks. Stick to the basics when it comes to obe.
  2. Because it’s only something that exists in your mind, you need to bear in mind that everything you see is not what it seems but only an illusion produced by your gullibility.
  3. It’s the 21st century, so remember that most people have replaced superstition for scientific knowledge. Keep that in mind during your travels.
  4. If you encounter a fellow traveler or a demon, it’s probably just an acid flashback.
  5. It’s perfectly safe to leave your body – nothing will hurt it – as long as you leave a shotgun by your body’s side so it can protect itself.
  6. The body has a mind of it’s own, so always lock the door before leaving your body.
  7. If you’re tempted to take this all as a joke, you’re probably too intelligent to be messing with astral projection.
  8. It’s the 21st century. Remember that.
  9. If you’ve had as much fun reading this as I have writing it, you’re probably too intelligent to be messing with astral projection.
  10. It’s the 21st century. Remember that all religious hoaxes have been cleared by the bright dawn of scientific literacy. If you’re tempted to believe this, you’re probably not firmly in the 21st century.

Hope this helps.

In the exchange that followed, I got called “sagaciously stupid,” “sophmoric [sic],” “childish,” and he referred to my thoughts as “the luminous pearls of wisdom you so enlightened me with.”

Guilty on most counts, I guess.

Astral projection makes objective claims that should, in theory, be testable: your spirit can leave your body. As a non-believer, I have a great problem with the whole notion of a ghost in the machine, but that aside, it’s still problematic. If astral projection is possible, where’s the proof? If it’s this great feat that anyone, with a bit of training and practice, can master, why not prove it?

How could we do this? Easily. Early in the NASA program, before any probes had made it to a foreign planet, an astral projectionist (I don’t know the correct term.) could have “gone” to Venus, for example, an given a detailed account of what we’d find there. Then, when we send a probe ourselves, we check it. If astral projection is true, bingo: we have the evidence.

Funny thing is, something like this was indeed done, only not with Venus but with Jupiter. Of the claims made, something like 15-20% were true, but obvious from current knowledge (i.e., it’s gaseous, there are storms on the surface). A small proportion were unverifiable because either the claim was ambiguous or the data received was ambiguous. The vast majority of the astral projectionist’s claims were dead wrong. Proof that it doesn’t work? Not really. But it certainly makes it extremely suspect. (You can read more about this in James Randi’s Flim-Flam.)

Three Random June Thoughts

Tuesday 31 May 2005

One

June is finally here — the month of our return. After four years in Poland, I’m moving back to America. After twenty-some years in Poland, Kinga is moving to America. Big transitions for both of us.

“You’re more European now,” she said last night, not commenting though on what I’m more European than. I suppose than I was. She mentioned the almost cliche change some Muslim men exhibit when, after marriage and returning home with their new wife, they suddenly revert to ultra Islam and become a new person — much to the bride’s dismay. I suppose that’s what she meant — more European than American, and her concern was about me becoming a fast-food bubba.

Two

In the process of packing, I found the old photos I’d taken before coming to Poland the first time, almost ten years ago now.

They were intended to be spare identification photos, though I doubt they’d suffice. Looking at them, I’m shocked at how much I’ve changed and how little I’ve realized that. I look in the mirror every day, after all, and so the changes — receding hairline, more mature eyes, lack of the scars of adolescence — slipped by me. I imagine that’s how it’ll be with Kinga as time passes. “What will she look like when she’s forty?” I ask myself, knowing the answer will still be “beautiful.” But it’s hard to imagine the marks time will make, and now I see it’s doubtful I’ll even notice until I look at our wedding album.

Three

Back to America. I haven’t been to the States in three years — too-busy summers and a lack of money will do that to you. “Reverse culture shock” is something you hear about from time to time, and I’m wondering if it’s hovering there, a few weeks in the future. When I went back for the first time in 1998, after two years in Poland, the difference was profound. The quality of roads was something I’d totally forgotten about, so used to bumping along I’d become. The ability to understand almost everyone around me without trying felt almost like a dirty secret. “Do they realize I understand everything they’re saying?”

But most shocking was the choice — fifty-seven varieties of everything. The entire row of paper products (paper towels, napkins, etc.) at Super Wal-Mart literally stopped me mid-stride. Channel after channel on the television, all in English. Restaurants for every conceivable palate and wallet.

And so I know the feeling of “My oh my” that awaits Kinga.

Health Care in Poland

Monday 30 May 2005

is a joke.

To begin with, there’s no private insurance to speak of because its’ too expensive. Insurance in general is expensive here. Almost no one here has his car insured against theft. Considering the fact that an inexpensive new car would cost me twenty months’ of my salary, that’s ridiculous.

There is free public health care for everyone, but that’s only in theory. In practice, a lack of physicians and a lack of motivation (i.e., low salary) on the part of practicing physicians mean long waits for appointments (a matter of months sometimes) and ineffective services.

When you visit a doctor in a public clinic in Poland, you probably won’t be asked many questions. The doctor will get his pittance no matter how well he serves you, so he’d just as soon send you on your way so he can get through the multitude of patients he has for the day. A cursory glance, a question or two, and then whip out the prescription pad.

Not only that, but supplies are non-existent. You have to go buy your own anti-toxin, for example, if you step on a nail. If you’re coming in for an extended stay in the hospital (i.e., to give birth), you have bring your own toilet paper. And so on.

So public health care is dismal. If you want to get better, you go to a private clinic — and pay.

Personal case in point: I had throat problems a couple of years ago. Several visits to laryngologist working at the public hospital produced few results. One visit to a private laryngologist all but solved the problem. The difference: she didn’t just jot down a prescription after a cursory glance at my throat. She performed a detailed examination, with lots of questions, then provided not just a prescription, but a regimen for throat care.

The problem is pay — or lack thereof. Doctors are flooding out of Poland, mainly to Scandinavia.

Covering

Wednesday 11 May 2005

I’ve been working on my cover letter for my teaching resume. I haven’t written a cover letter in five years or so — it’s rusty, to say the least.

In a cover letter, you’re selling yourself. Hire me! Here’s why!

I’ve felt comfortable being a salesman. I once spent a summer trying to sell cutlery door-to-door. Vacuum cleaners would probably be an easier sale, but certainly knives are easier to sell than encyclopedias or religion.

Selling anything door-to-door is a hassle. It’s an intrusion.

I was a waiter for a few months in 1996. A customer offered me a job selling mobile homes because I’d convinced him to buy a dessert. I twisted his arm and shoved his face into a pile of whipped cream — that’s how I did it. I’m not sure such a tactic would work with mobile homes.

Never did find out if I’d have had to sell the tires to go on the roof as well.

Still, being a waiter is easier than selling religion or vacuums door-to-door. The customer comes to you. The customer says, “Sell me something! Take my money!” Door-to-door means, “Excuse me. I’d like to take up your time now — I know you’re probably busy, but screw that — and sell you something. Why, you’ve probably already got knives, a vacuum, and a faith, but mine’s better.”

Two girls once came to my door to sell me religion. It was in Boston, July 2002, when I’d gone back to spend the summer in the States. I’d been trying unsuccessfully to sell myself, but I couldn’t do it — I was still unemployed. It was hot and humid, and I just didn’t feel like dealing with Mormons at that hour in that heat (the apartment didn’t have air conditioning) and without a second cup of coffee. And really — who could have more coffee when it’s so hot? Sweat dripping off your nose into the French roast isn’t appealing. So I told the girls I wasn’t interested, even though I was. No, I didn’t want to convert, but a game of dogma-chess is always fun. Well, they were Mormons — dogma-tic-tac-toe.

So here I am, trying to sell myself without making it look like I’m trying to sell myself, even though every administrator who reads my cover letter is shopping for a teacher and knows that I’m trying to sell myself.

A Funny Letter in Polish

Monday 11 April 2005

W zwiÄ…zku z otrzymaniem wezwania z dnia 31.03.2005 zwracam siÄ™ z proÅ›bÄ… o wyjaÅ›nienie nastÄ™pujÄ…cych wÄ…tpliwoÅ›ci dotyczÄ…cych wymaganego pełnomocnictwa:

  1. Kogo mogę/mam upoważnić?
  2. Do czego mam upoważnić daną osobę/instytucję?
  3. Przez kogo takie pełnomocnictwo ma być potwierdzone?

Jestem cudzoziemcem i zawarty w wezwaniu wymóg przesłania pełnomocnictwa jest dla mnie niejasny. Również nikt z najbliższego otoczenia nie umiał wyjaÅ›nić mi specyfikacji owego pełnomocnictwa.

Niezrozumiałym dla mnie jest również fakt, że ponownie muszÄ™ potwierdzać miejsce mojego zameldowania w Polsce i po raz kolejny wypełniać formularze moich danych osobowych. Wszystkie wyżej wymienione dane posiada już UrzÄ…d Skarbowy w Nowym Targu oraz Małopolski UrzÄ…d Wojewódzki w Krakowie, Wydział Spraw Obywatelskich i Migracji, który to wydał mi kartÄ™ pobytu na terytorium RP.

Living Church of God Tragedy

Sunday 13 March 2005

I’m in a bit of shock. I just found out about the shooting in Wisconsin, and I’m in even more shock about the church in which it happened.

The Living Church of God.

A splinter group of the Worldwide Church of God. The sect I grew up in.

I know many people in this group, though none in the area this deplorable tragedy took place.

A comment at a website about this:

Considering the fact that cults tend to become a magnet for the unstable and knowing the large number of unstable people that I’ve seen come through and still attending church, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened much sooner.

True. David Koresh, Jim Jones — many others. Fringe groups lead to fringe behavior.

To put it lightly.

Robbed! Robbed, I say!

Thursday 3 March 2005

I once worked at an internet start-up. A “dot-bomb” as the cliche goes, for it eventually fell flat on its face.

I worked in IT the last six or so months I was there, and so I got email from folks I’d never heard from while working as an editor — including the marketing director.

Almost four years ago, I wrote the following in my journal (names changed):

Nothing particularly interesting happened at work this week. In other words, no one got fired. We were induced with ice cream Friday afternoon to be a focus group for “[TheCompany]’s vision” and mission statement and all that jazz. It was David Gordon’s doing – he’s the new director of marketing (or marketing director – I forget which term he prefers and made me correct all references on the web site to). Even if I didn’t know what he does for a living, if I read a couple of his emails I think I’d fairly quickly guess that he’s in marketing. Everything he writes smacks of it – every other word seems to be from some book that might be called Power Words for Marketing Professionals or Words to Make People Remember You, both of which in fact would be filled with cliche© and ridiculous writing. Concerning the “About Us” page on our web site, he forwarded me an email exchange he had with Susan in which she said something about the existing text not achieving the desired effect, to which he responded, “I’ll wordsmith something better.” As I told Eric, it takes a hell of a writer to use “wordsmith” as a noun (which of course it is) and not sound ridiculous. To use it as a verb is absolutely ridiculous. “I’ll wordsmith something”?!?! I can just hear some guy with a comb-over in a marketing class saying, “Don’t ‘write’ anything – wordsmith.” Perhaps he also added, “Don’t ever ‘crap’ – poopsmith.” He also had me put the following punctuation in the email that professors get after getting a free trial:

The double colons are something, as he put it, he picked up recently. You don’t “pick up” punctuation. You pick up gimmicks; you pick up a gallon of milk on your way home for work; you try to pick up women – but you don’t “pick up” new forms of punctuation. He would probably argue that it makes you stand out. “Wordsmith” also makes you stand out, but certainly not in a positive way. And I don’t think profs are going to be sucked in with “clever” (ab)uses of punctuation. Maybe we could end all our sentences with a dash- That would make us stand out- aND THEN WE COULD REVERSE CASE IN EVERYTHING WE WRITE- lASTLY. WE COULD PUT PERIODS WHERE WE NORMALLY PUT COMAS. AND INTENTINALLY MISS-PELL WERDSS TU HELP PEOPLE REMEMBER US-

Username :: WE3F3KJD
Password :: YIRJ3L2N

To be fair, the double-colon thing is fairly common now. I have even used it — gulp. Guess he was vindicated.

But there’s no vindication for me. The Brothers Chaps stole my idea of poopsmith and are making millions with it. Well, at least a living.

Homestar Runnner, I hate you…

It’s the End of the World as We Know It

Wednesday 2 March 2005

In Trinity Broadcast Network’s take on the end of the world, we see at the climax of the film the great battle known as Armageddon. Satan is there in full gargoyle attire, directing the Forces of Evil to destroy all that stands in their way. The bright light of Jesus comes and in a montage we see, among other things, Jews praying at the Wailing Wall.

The Real Video version of the video is available here. If you like B-movies, this one is for you. It’s worth it at least to watch the final minutes, so cue it to 1:29 and make sure you don’t have to urinate…

Huh? A great battle within a few miles and they’re praying instead of running for cover?!

This “oversight” is symptomatic of the general Fundamentalist view of the Book of Revelation and the end of the world. The whole scenario is laughable: the Satan unites the duped world into an alliance with him. Those who resist meet on the plains of Megiddo and fight the greatest battle the world has ever seen, cut short by Jesus’ second coming and the banishing of Satan to a bottomless pit.

It’s Lord of the Rings. But to some people, it’s a sure thing. In fact, you can see the rumblings of it already, with the United Nations or the European Union, depending on which breed of Fundamentalist you’re talking to. Soon, a powerful leader will rise and start working miracles and uniting the world with his…

Wait. Let’s think about it for a moment. It’s the twenty-first century. What’s going to happen if someone starts working “miracles?” Anyone hear of James Randi? What’s going to happen if some world leader starts calling on people to worship him?

As for the apocalyptic battle that rages in the Middle East, the notion that all the armies are going to gather on the plains — when was the last time you saw modern warfare conducted like that?

But that basic logic clashes with what the Bible “clearly” says, and so the True Believers stumble on saying that the end is just around the corner. Yet even Jesus seemed to get his timing wrong. Speaking of the end of the world in Matthew’s gospel, he says,

Wherefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes: and some of them ye shall kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city: That upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom ye slew between the temple and the altar. Verily I say unto you, All these things shall come upon this generation. (23.34-36)

Later, he utters the same thing: “This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled” (24.34). So for almost two thousand years folks have been saying, “This generation won’t die without seeing the end of the world!”

But that’s neither here nor there. No man knows the hour and all that, but we do know the signs: rebuilding the temple; resurrected Roman Empire; 666; miracle-working world leader who calls himself a god. Or do we? There’s so much hopeless confusion and contradiction in the various end of the world scenarios that it’s difficult to keep a straight face hearing such nonsense.

No one seems to wonder, “Well, if all the pieces of the puzzle can be put together in such different ways, maybe the puzzle itself is broken. Or our understanding of it.”

I’d say it’s a little of both.

Answer 120

Friday 11 February 2005

Question 120: Would you accept $10,000 to shave your head and continue your normal activities sans hat or wig without explaining the reason for your haircut?

Admittedly, I sort of cheated with this question, because for years I’ve been all but shaving my head. The reason I give is pragmatic: it’s less work.

For a while, I was in fact shaving my head daily with a razor, which took about fifteen minutes a day, so the “pragmatic” excuse doesn’t hold. I suspect my male pattern baldness plays some subconscious role. The less hair I have, the less visible my growing circle of skin at the crown of my head.

I did have a friend once who, when I suggested he cut his hair similar to mine, reacted with such revulsion that one would think I’d suggested something more drastic and permanent – say, tongue splitting or something. In my youthful naivety, I kept contending that it was a vanity issue, but I see now that it is much more than that.

Our hairstyles speak before we open our mouths.

Along with clothes, they often construct entire personas before the individual even begins speaking. Rather, _we_ do the persona-constructing on the basis of the hair and clothes.

  • Greasy hair brings to mind poverty and a lack of hygiene. Their personality must be somehow defective.
  • A mullet leads to expectations of a Southern accent and a lack of cognitive abilities.
  • A poof – no, a bush – of hair precariously balanced above a girl’s forehead and wings of hair sprouting out above her ears screams, “This girl does not get out often.”
  • Perfectly styled, stylish hair is the mark of someone who spends a lot of time in front of the mirror in the morning.

Fight it though I may, such are the stereotypes and

clichés I unconsciously create, and I suspect it’s not just me.

But it’s not just bad assumptions we make based on hair. That’s why the fashion industry exists – to help people make the assumption about us that we want them to make.

Hair and fashion are non-verbal communication. The question is, do we want it to be intentional or unintentional? After all, that’s the primary difference between being a slob and not.

It’s the communication aspect that gives the dimension of “Let me think about it” to the question. If it didn’t include “without explaining the reason for your haircut,” it’s a simple question: most everyone would agree.

“What? The do? Oh, some idiot agreed to pay me ten grand just to shave my head.”

For those interested in continuing and posting in a week on another question: Question 4:
If you could spend one year in perfect happiness but afterwards would remember nothing of the experience, would you do so? If not, why not? (Further question: Which is more important: actual experiences, or the memories that remain when the experiences are over?) Thoughts posted 18 Feb.

Then we can counter the visual communication of our shinny head with the verbal explanation. The “without explaining” means that our bald heads alone are the explanation.

For the sake of fairness, then, I’ll change the question to make it more applicable to me: “Would I shave the fashionable, boy-band-type verticle stripes into my eyebrows for $10,000 without any sort of explanation?”

The answer: most definitely not.

As a teacher, I unfortunately have to worry to some degree about my image. A slob does not garner respect, and so I wear a tie every day. Similarly, a balding man in his early thirties trying to look fifteen years younger would bring about, I suspect, unwanted effects, to say the least.

On the other hand, I’ll be leaving this school in a matter of months, so in the long run, it’s a moot point.

The Will to Believe

Tuesday 8 February 2005

The will to believe. Choosing to believe. Avoiding error. Seeking truth.

It all seems so simple from the outside.

I once chose to believe. At a point in my life, I went through the motions, hoping unconsciously that I could cultivate a belief (like a gay friend I had who was vaguely attracted to a girl, a feeling he hoped to “cultivate” into bisexuality) and knowing that I was fooling myself (much like my gay friend eventually admitted to himself).

And I did try. I wrote in my journal about belief and faith and the wonder of God’s love. I talked to friends at university about the marvel of forgiveness and what God did for us through Jesus. I prayed.

In early 1995, I began acknowledging in my personal journal the doubts I was having.

What is this thing, Christianity? It is the worship of a Jewish carpenter who lived two millennia ago. It is a religion based on a book, allegedly written by God’s inspiration. Was Christ more than a radical social reformer? Were his miracles more than a fictional construction of the gospel writers?

No matter how much I want to believe, to feel the fervor that others experience, I cannot.

Could Christ be the creation of a codependent society? The ultimate father-figure who provides the love a fleshly father should give?

The lingering adolescence in my writing style aside, I was filled with clichés. Perhaps that was the problem.

Another few weeks passed and a faculty member of the college I was attending died from cancer. During the memorial chapel, I scribbled the following in my journal:

Death — and my thoughts are again turned to religion. God is such an abstraction that I read about him and never feel him; not even death brings any real, any substantial emotion of which God is the source. The only feeling I get is doubt. Is that from God?

Doubt from God? It doesn’t seem possible, but from a liberal theology, it makes some sense. After all, if we can have Harvey Cox in The Secular City saying that God wants us to outgrow him and the whole “Death of God” theology of the sixties, why not divine doubt? Descartes, turned on his head.

Still later, again from my journal:

I find myself thinking of the whole God issue still. I am frustrated by the whole thing. I sit now in the library and just a moment ago I looked up at Rev. [Smith] and peered at his forehead, wondering what was in his mind, what books, what learning, what lectures. But mainly what beliefs. He firmly believes in God. He would stake his life on it, I would imagine. Yet that means nothing to me. No matter how important God is to him, God is still a mere abstraction to me. He’s a blurred, hazy idea, and little more than that. I can read Barth and Schleiermacher until I’m sick of them and yet it makes God no less concrete. I don’t believe in God. Not in a personal, substantial way. I read theology, talk about Christian ethics and doctrine, yet I don’t really believe in the basis of it all. It’s not that I am an atheist. It’s not that I choose not to believe in God – I just can’t believe in God.

Many Christians would read that and respond, “You read only theology? What about reading the Bible?” Indeed – what about reading the Bible? The more I read, the less I found that I liked. &(insetL)I learned in graduate school that “Schleiermacher” means “veil maker” in German. Appropriate, most seem to think.%

Doing produces believing? Yes, and no. From my personal experience, I see that for me it was impossible. But I was “playing” (for lack of a better term) in the Protestant tradition, and there’s not much “doing” there. The “smells and bells” for the Catholic tradition bring all the senses into ritual. Indeed – who can really talk of Protestant “ritual” or “liturgy?” Perhaps that’s why charismatic churches are so attractive to some – full body contact.

Yet the ritual can be without meaning – empty repetitions. Jesus, according to the Gospels, found that in first century Judea.

It does seem to reduce down to the will. People choose to believe often by choosing not to challenge those beliefs. I’ve always found it odd that it seems more non-believers read theistic apologetic than believers read The Case for Atheism. It’s tempting to be smug about that, to say that, “Well, that just shows we non-believers are more open, more willing to challenge our worldviews.”

I’m not sure how I’d explain it, though.

Pascal, Kreeft, and the Will

Monday 7 February 2005

Most everyone knows Pascal’s Wager, drawn from a single paragraph in Pensces: belief in God is, in short, the safest bet. (“Read more on the Wager.) It’s interesting that people still apply it in earnest.

Most recently, I’ve heard Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft use it in his 1995 Texas A&M Veritas Forum lecture.

One of the objections is the supposed inability to chose one’s beliefs. Pascal foresaw such an argument:

You would like to attain faith, and do not know the way; you would like to cure yourself of unbelief, and ask the remedy for it. Learn of those who have been bound like you, and who now stake all their possessions. These are people who know the way which you would follow, and who are cured of an ill of which you would be cured. Follow the way by which they began; by acting as if they believed, taking the holy water, having masses said, etc… But to show you that this leads you there, it is this which will lessen the passions, which are your stumbling-blocks.

Action precedes faith. Praying, meditating, going to Mass, all lead to faith. Crazy as that might sound, Pascal might indeed have a point. Polish writer Czesław Miłosz made the same point in The Captive Mind:

The Catholic Church wisely recognized that faith is more a matter of collective suggestion than of individual conviction. Collective religious ceremonies induce a state of belief. Folding one’s hands in prayer, kneeling, singing hymns precede faith, for faith is a psycho-physical and not simply a psychological phenomenon.

Every Mass Catholics cite the Apostles’ Creed in one voice:

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth:

I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord; Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried; He descended into hell; on the third day He arose from the dead; He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit; the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and life everlasting. Amen.

“I believe; I hear my neighbor beside me state that he believes; I am aware that my neighbor in front of me believes – we all believe. We all support each other in these beliefs.” That’s what I hear behind the words.

In that believing environment, which must be at least similar to Pascal’s environment, willing yourself to believe seems not only possible, but almost inescapable. Even as a “staunch” non-believer, I feel sometimes that tug toward belief, that desire not simply to fit in for the sake of fitting in, but to have what the parishioners around me seem to have.

There are two kinds of views on religion, wrote William James in The Varieties of Religious Experience:

  1. Seek truth
  2. Avoid error

For those who seek truth, the choice is obvious – bet on God. I’ve always been more the type to avoid error.

“Spit flyin’ everywhere,” Take Two

Friday 4 February 2005

A wise woman once wrote,

I, too, am saddened by so much of what I read in blogs, and comment threads are even worse. It’s as if writers are grabbing the mike and running to the stage without having once practiced the song they are about to force onto the audience. At first it seems funny and then it just seems sad, desperate, irresponsible.

Raging, inarticulate personal attacks in comments and posts are becoming all too common.

There are blogs that are devoted just to criticizing other blogs. And it’s not just attacks because of political views, but attacks based on, well, anything that doesn’t suit the “reviewer.”

There are also bloggers who go around biting ankles in comments.

Regrettably I’ve done both. This post is what’s left after all the spittle has been wiped away and people began talking civilly.

“It’s easy to tear down than to build up,” said my mother (though I suspect not just mine), and the truth of that is becoming more and more evident in blogs and comments. A few examples show the childish creativity we employ (and I’ve included my own comments in this list):

  • don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
  • as obviously immature as you are
  • It’s called symbolism–does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.
  • lots of passion here and lots of anger but not much reason
  • the world may not miss you
  • These people are cowards
  • So as to be clear — we wish there to be no misundertandings — you are an in idiot. While I’m sure you have plenty of self esteem and the trophies to prove it, you remain an idiot.
  • Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.
  • a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
  • I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]
  • Damn! In the above post, some idiot forgot to edit before he sent […]
  • She is articulate; you are not. She is thoughtful; you are not.
  • When you grow up and enter the real world you’ll realize that common sense and rational judgement [sic] will take you a lot farther than anger, bitterness and sarcasm

There is a full range of personal attacks and libel here. There are subtle jibes:

  • “Does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.” naturally implies, “You’re a dolt because you didn’t understand my post.”
  • “When you grow up and enter the real world” implies, “You’re childish now.”

There are not so subtle jabs:

  • a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
  • I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]

There are nuclear strikes:

  • don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
  • as obviously immature as you are

And at least one hinted at something much bigger than a personal attack: “Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.”

Some of these comments were catalysts for others in the list, so it’s easy to see how things can spin out of control.

We attack; we get attacked; we retaliate more viciously than we were attacked; one of our friends sees the tangle and jumps in to help — soon it’s a playground brawl.

The problem is that the blogosphere is messy. It’s part of the aptly called “the web,” so it’s inherently difficult to track everything down and find out who indeed did start. By jumping in, as I have foolishly done, we may end up attacking the attacked when we should have turned our backs on the whole mess and gone to hang out at the swings.

“If you can’t say anything nice…”

Another problem is that the internet is essentially anonymous, and thus emotionally free:

People have no hesitation at being ugly over the internet simply because there is no cost to them. There is no personal investment to online discourse. The lack of personal interaction allows people to be as ugly as they want to be…which is often pretty ugly (Robert Fenton)

It’s like the crank calls my friends and I used to make back in the eighties when there was no caller ID and we were simply voices on the other end of the line. We can create whole personas on the internet, complete with false pictures, names, stats – everything. And in that liberated, new “us,” some of us show the darker, more immature sides of ourselves more often than we do in person. We’re all split personalities, as role theory points out, but the online personality can have a bit uglier voice than the others.

“I always think it is a shame when people stoop to personal attacks on other people, no matter what the medium” (Renee). My crank calls were never not so vitriolic as some of the things I’ve seen in comments.

In the end, it’s obviously better to sit back and watch the cat fights than to get involved. Sound advice for myself, a bit too late.

“Spit flyin’ everywhere”

Wednesday 2 February 2005

A wise woman once wrote,

I, too, am saddened by so much of what I read in blogs, and comment threads are even worse. It’s as if writers are grabbing the mike and running to the stage without having once practiced the song they are about to force onto the audience. At first it seems funny and then it just seems sad, desperate, irresponsible.

Raging, inarticulate personal attacks in comments and posts are becoming all too common.

There are blogs that are devoted just to criticizing other blogs. And it’s not just attacks because of political views, but attacks based on, well, anything that doesn’t suit the “reviewer.”

There are also bloggers who go around biting ankles in comments.

Regrettably I’ve done both. This post is what’s left after all the spittle has been wiped away and people began talking civilly.

“It’s easy to tear down than to build up,” said my mother (though I suspect not just mine), and the truth of that is becoming more and more evident in blogs and comments. A few examples show the childish creativity we employ (and I’ve included my own comments in this list):

  • don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
  • as obviously immature as you are
  • It’s called symbolism — does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.
  • lots of passion here and lots of anger but not much reason
  • the world may not miss you
  • These people are cowards
  • So as to be clear — we wish there to be no misundertandings — you are an in idiot. While I’m sure you have plenty of self esteem and the trophies to prove it, you remain an idiot.
  • Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.
  • a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
  • I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]
  • Damn! In the above post, some idiot forgot to edit before he sent […]
  • She is articulate; you are not. She is thoughtful; you are not.
  • When you grow up and enter the real world you’ll realize that common sense and rational judgement [sic] will take you a lot farther than anger, bitterness and sarcasm

There is a full range of personal attacks and libel here. There are subtle jibes:

  • “Does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.” — naturally implies, “You’re a dolt because you didn’t understand my post.”
  • “When you grow up and enter the real world” implies, “You’re childish now.”

There are not so subtle jabs:

  • a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
  • I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]

There are nuclear strikes:

  • don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
  • as obviously immature as you are

And at least one hinted at something much bigger than a personal attack: “Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.”

Some of these comments were catalysts for others in the list, so it’s easy to see how things can spin out of control.

We attack; we get attacked; we retaliate more viciously than we were attacked; one of our friends sees the tangle and jumps in to help — soon it’s a playground brawl.

The problem is that the blogosphere is messy. It’s part of the aptly called “the web,” so it’s inherently difficult to track everything down and find out who indeed did start. By jumping in, as I have foolishly done, we may end up attacking the attacked when we should have turned our backs on the whole mess and gone to hang out at the swings.

“If you can’t say anything nice…”

Another problem is that the internet is essentially anonymous, and thus emotionally free:

People have no hesitation at being ugly over the internet simply because there is no cost to them. There is no personal investment to online discourse. The lack of personal interaction allows people to be as ugly as they want to be” which is often pretty ugly (Robert Fenton)

It’s like the crank calls my friends and I used to make back in the eighties when there was no caller ID and we were simply voices on the other end of the line. We can create whole personas on the internet, complete with false pictures, names, stats everything. And in that liberated, new “us,” some of us show the darker, more immature sides of ourselves more often than we do in person. We’re all split personalities, as role theory points out, but the online personality can have a bit uglier voice than the others.

“I always think it is a shame when people stoop to personal attacks on other people, no matter what the medium” (Renee). My crank calls were never not so vitriolic as some of the things I’ve seen in comments.

In the end, it’s obviously better to sit back and watch the cat fights than to get involved. Sound advice for myself, a bit too late.