stonecriesout

My 24th Year (+ 1 month): the Reading

I felt like I didn't do a whole lot of reading last year, but I think what may have happened was that I read less books that had more substance.  All of the books I completed last year really asked me to let the ideas do some work inside me as I proceeded through the pages.  Allow me to tell you about a few I really enjoyed and a brief explanation of why I really liked them.

(In no particular order)

The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals - Michael Pollan

I can't remember exactly how I heard about this book, but I am so thankful I did.  I read through it in the late Summer, and by Fall I had changed many things about my eating, shopping, and dining-out habits.  I didn't feel guilted in to changing, never felt like I was ever told that I had been "eating wrong," or anything like that.  Pollan is a Journalism Professor at Berkeley, so his approach to the subject of what-we-eat and how-we-eat is very investigative and contextual--not a ton of propaganda or ethical high-horsing.  The things I loved about the book were: learning what the ridiculous words in the ingredients of common supermarket foods represented, finally reading about what the differences are between the various meats in the supermarket, a de-bunking of "common sense" understandings of what the words "organic," "natural," and "sustainable" mean, and a full account of a responsible and "sustainable" farming and eating community in practice.  After finishing this book, my eating changed, my respect for eating changed, my buying habits changed, my dining-out habits changed, but most importantly: my attitude toward food changed.  I was led by Pollan's work to respecting food, respecting the meal, and away from a need to feel like I was "eating right" (or, pretty much using the word "right" at all in my thinking).  I've started his follow up In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, and so far (about 90 pages in), I am enjoying it with the same enthusiasm as I did Omnivore's Dilemma.

The Fidelity of Betrayal: Towards a Church Beyond Belief - Peter Rollins

This one I definitely may not have come across if not for Seth Thomas.  He had also introduced me to Rollins' first book, How (Not) To Speak of God.  I was curious about Fidelity of Betrayal, because I felt that Rollins' was one of the few authors associated with the "Emerging/Emergent" community that I had read that had really put in the scholarly hours and was writing from a place free from sentimentality or vanity.  Rollins became somewhat of a controversy hot-spot for beginning Fidelity with a sympathetic and almost apologetic view of Judas Iscariot, but I appreciated that take very much.  I constantly am needing to be reminded that humanity doesn't reduce to "good guys" and "bad guys" (thanks, Hollywood), and Rollins seeks out the humanity in Judas' betrayal.  He then (as many with a Ph.D. in Postmodern Theory would) spends the rest of book considering if those with views in or on Christianity have been so busy taking on living rightly and obediently, that we haven't allowed ourselves to really understand what those things might mean.  He really pushes us toward leaving our beliefs and our icons behind us and move on--not to abandon them, but to become more than they would have us remain.  I felt compelled to really dive in to this book, because I had already felt like I was "leaving Christian things behind."  I had moved away from church, the Bible, whatever some people would call "Christian living," and my attitude about how to even use words like "Christian."  I found myself in an odd spot--stripping away what I had learned was a Christ-like life, and yet never feeling like I ever lost hope that Christ may have had something good going on.  So when I read the book, I was comforted by the idea that Christianity could be "irreligious," that I didn't need to call myself or anyone else a "Christian," and that the whole idea of those classifications might be kind of silly and childish anyhow.  Rollins delivered a book that really met me with great timing, and though I'd like to to think I have moved beyond his ideas along with the ones I had before I read them, chances are I am still pretty entrenched in all the ideas I now consider silly.  I'll also mention that I love that he is published by a company named Paraclete Press.  Don't know the word Paraclete?  Look it up, it's awesome.  Christ used this word as a name for what many now call the Holy Spirit.

The God Delusion - Richard Dawkins

I read this book because of Rikk Watts.  As many of you know, I regularly follow Rikk's lectures at The Rock Garden through their Podcasts of his teaching.  I enjoy Rikk because he is a staunch and unapologetic academic, but never loses his sense of fallibility and silliness.  He takes the sentimentality and assumption out of Christian thinking, and approaches questions of Christianity by contextualizing (he often repeats, "history is the fundamental paradigm for understanding") and seeking out the humanity of the ethical and strictly theological issues at hand.  Rikk is an emboldened teacher, but I have never heard him as fire-laden as when he would address the current popularization of Dawkins and others associated with the New Atheist Movement.  For over a year I had listened to Watts' diatribes on the alleged irresponsibility and negligence of Dawkins' most popular work.  I decided I needed to read this thing for myself to make up my own mind about it, so I picked up the UK-release (probably closer to the actual print Dawkins himself penned) and didn't put it down until I was finished.

The God Delusion was controversial for excellent reason.  Dawkins has put together quite the convincing argument.  Acerbic and needlessly confrontational?  Absolutely.  Is Dawkins smug and an un-apologetic narcissist?  Hey, from what I can tell: probably.  But I went through his work doing my best to practice Epoché, and let any defensiveness that I anticipated just suspend until I could let the new perspective in.  As I allowed the things I had always let myself believe in be de-bunked and de-throned, I wondered if I would lose faith in a God, in a Christ, in a Prophet, in anything the Big Three had to offer.  What if I decided to worship Science instead?  Hmm....

As I finished the book and continued the process of wondering what to believe, I arrived at a place that Rollins suggested I might: beyond belief, irreligiously clinging to faith in God.  As I learned that I had the capacity to (as Dawkins and friends do) intellectualize religion out of my beliefs, or (as Watts and friends do) intellectualize myself in to deeper belief, I found out that I was quite comfortable not needing to know what I believed.  The place I found discomfort was when I anticipated the unknown: death.  I suppose the fear of Death is a root cause for "the opium of the people," (Marx), but Pascal's Wager would haunt me when I leaned toward faithless living.  Ultimately, I think the fear of the Unknown and the fear of Death will always leave me with a hope that God does exist, that this God is more decent than Man, and that Christ is somehow at the center of God's extended decency toward Man.  Belief has almost nothing to do with it at this point--Hope has everything to do with it--but I may never have come to that understanding had I not read The God Delusion.

**I should note that while I was reading this book, I had several friends ask me "Why would you ever want to read that?"  And not just because they were "worried" I'd be convinced in to faithlessness, but because it is inevitably going to be a confusing process for a Christian to hear that everything they believe is wrong.  I appreciate that, but like I said before--I just had to read it to make up my own mind.  You might not need to read it make up your own mind, who knows?

Looks like I didn't read much fiction last year!  At least none that made it in to the Three I felt compelled to tell you about.  Here are my other recommendations from the last 13 months:

Hot, Flat, and Crowded - Thomas Friedman

Intellectually stimulating, and a unique approach to the problem of inevitable climate change.  However, only interesting to a point.  I didn't change much for reading it.

What I Know For Sure - Tavis Smiley

So powerful a story of accepting the combination of Giftedness and Responsibility, and sprinting full-speed-ahead despite trauma and pain.  Smiley is a truly awe-inspiring man.

Hope On A Tightrope - Cornel West

Not much new here, but timely in the election of Obama, and came with an audio CD of West discussing his primary book topics with Tavis Smiley.

Debating Race - Michael Eric Dyson

Excellent transcriptions of excellent debates.  You wouldn't believe what goes down in this book and what you will learn.  Even Ann Coulter concedes respect for Dyson in a book cover blurb.  Ann Coulter!  Are you kidding me?

I am excited by the first two books of my 25th year: In Defense of Food, and Invisible Man (Ralph Ellison).  Invisible Man was a recommendation from my good friend Andy Orr, and I must tell you that I haven't been this excited about a piece of fiction as I've been reading it since I read The Brothers K several Summers ago.  Ellison is.... incredible.

Any recommendations to fill the remaining 11 months of my 25th year?  On my bookshelf and in queue are When Work Disappears (William Julius Wilson), Cannery Row (John Steinbeck), and The Rest is Noise (Alex Ross).

As always.... stay tuned for more!

The Fat Lady

On Sunday mornings, I'm typically working. Recently, regular Sunday morning customers have felt more comfortable with seeing my mug, and strike up small talks. Many are surprised that I would wear a tie to work, since it is not required of me. I explain that on Sunday mornings, I like to "shine my shoes for the Fat Lady." I also mention that I am referencing J.D. Salinger's Franny & Zooey.

After weeks and weeks of folks asking me what the hell I'm talking about, I finally put something together for one customer to read, explaining my odd reference. I'll share it with all of you. Thanks for reading.

-HVC

--------------------------------------------------

"Franny was now sitting with the flat of her free hand pressed against the side of her face, like someone with an excruciating toothache. 'One other thing. And that's all. I promise you. But the thing is, you raved and you bitched when you came home about the stupidity of audiences. The goddam 'unskilled laughter' coming from the fifth row. And that's right, that's right--God knows it's depressing. I'm not saying it isn't. But that's none of your business, really. That's none of your business, Franny. An artist's concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection on his own terms, not anyone else's. You have no right to think about those things, I swear to you. Not in any real sense, anyway. You know what I mean?' There was a silence. Both saw it through without any seeming impatience or awkwardness. Franny still appeared to have some considerable pain on one side of her face, and continued to keep her hand on it, but her expression was markedly uncomplaining. The voice at the other end came through again. 'I remember about the fifth time I ever went on 'Wise Child.' I subbed for Walt a few times when he was in a cast--remember when he was in that cast? Anyways, I started bitching one night before the broadcast. Seymour'd told me to shine my shoes just as I was going out the door with Waker. I was furious. The studio audience were all morons, and I just damn well wasn't going to shine my shoes for them, I told Seymour. I said they couldn't see them anyway, where we sat. He said to shine them anyway. He said to shine them for the Fat Lady. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, and he had a very Seymour look on his face, and so I did it. He never did tell me who the Fat Lady was, but I shined my shoes for the Fat Lady every time I ever went on the air again--all the years you and I were on the program together, if you remember. I don't think I missed more than just a couple of times. This terribly clear, clear picture of the Fat Lady formed in my mind. I had her sitting on this porch all day, swatting flies, with her radio going full-blast from morning till night. I figured the heat was terrible, and she probably had cancer, and--I don't know. Anyway, it seemed goddam clear why Seymour wanted me to shine my shoes when I went on the air. It made sense.' Franny was standing. She had taken her hand away from her face to hold the phone with two hands. 'He told me, too,' she said into the phone. 'He told me to be funny for the Fat Lady, once.' She released one hand from the phone and placed it, very briefly, on the crown of her head, then went back to holding the phone with both hands. 'I didn't ever picture her on a porch, but with very--you know--very thick legs, very veiny. I had her in an awful wicker chair. She had cancer, too, though, and she had the radio going full-blast all day! Mine did, too!' 'Yes. Yes. Yes. All right. Let me tell you something now, buddy. . . . Are you listening?' Franny, looking extremely tense, nodded. 'I don't care where an actor acts. It can be in summer stock, it can be over a radio, it can be over television, it can be in a goddam Broadway theatre, complete with the most fashionable, most well-fed, most sunburned-looking audience you can imagine. But I'll tell you a terrible secret--Are you listening to me? There isn't anyone out there who isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. That includes your Professor Tupper, buddy. And all his goddam cousins by the dozens. There isn't anyone anywhere that isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. Don't you know that yet? Don't you know that goddam secret yet? And don't you know--listen to me, now--don't you know who that Fat Lady really is? . . . Ah, buddy. Ah, buddy. It's Christ Himself. Christ Himself, buddy.' For joy, apparently, it was all Franny could do to hold the phone, even with both hands. For a fullish half minute or so, there were no other words, no further speech. Then: 'I can't talk any more, buddy.' The sound of a phone being replaced in its catch followed. Franny took in her breath slightly but continued to hold the phone to her ear. A dial tone, of course, followed the formal break in the connection. She appeared to find it extraordinarily beautiful to listen to, rather as if it were the best possible substitute for the primordial silence itself. But she seemed to know, too, when to stop listening to it, as if all of what little or much wisdom there is in the world were suddenly hers. When she had replaced the phone, she seemed to know just what to do next, too. She cleared away the smoking things, then drew back the cotton bedspread from the bed she had been sitting on, took off her slippers, and got into the bed. For some minutes, before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, she just lay quiet, smiling at the ceiling." -J.D. Salinger (Franny & Zooey) Up until this point in the novel, Franny & Zooey Glass have been very aloof and somewhat annoyed with each other. The youngest of a large and very bright family of children, they incur many pressures and insecurities that they feel their elder siblings did not have the challenge of enduring. Their eldest, Seymour, is the model for all the Glass children, and in a somewhat morbidly perfect turn, committed suicide while on holiday with his wife. Seymour remains the voice of conscience, reason, and faith in the lives of the entire Glass family. Franny had been unwittingly searching for Seymour's voice all throughout this novel (which only really seems to span a couple of days), and Zooey (the actor-cynic) would have been the last place we would have expected to hear echoes of Seymour's sentiments. When these last 3 pages of the novel turn though, it is just as beautiful for the reader as it seems to be for Franny. I interpret the "Fat Lady" in many ways, but the interpretation that I think fits best with why Salinger used a Fat Lady is: I think Seymour was attempting to invoke an image of someone who would be most easily cast aside by children/folk in the circles that the Glass family ran in. The Glass children all appeared on the 'Wise Child' TV program, were extremely developed spiritually, intellectually, if not socially. A Fat Lady with cancer, sitting alone on her porch, unhygienic, with radio blaring, would surely be the hardest for the Glass children to see Christ Himself in. So Seymour reminds his siblings to do things they find patronizing for this Fat Lady--the last person they would ordinarily patronize themselves for. In all my time as a young adult, and especially in my time with Starbucks, I have found myself most disgusted with some attitudes that often (though not necessarily) accompany embedded wealth. The sense of Entitlement, the Condescension, the Smugness, the Perpetual Adolescence, the lifestyle of Small Indulgences. I see both employee and customer actively and shamelessly engaging in these attributes. So to me, the "Fat Lady" is perhaps upper-middle class, white, overbearing, uptight, in khakis and oxfords (ladies, maybe a nice pantsuit...), on the Bluetooth, with too much discretionary money, bored with life, and subsequently patronizing every one around them, because they have been conditioned to be either incapable or unwilling to engage sincerely or authentically with their fellow man. The insincerity, posturing, and artificiality now controls their interactions, and they are unhappy when one who serves them does not enable them. I spent my first two years with Starbucks loathing these types, making cleverly snide remarks about them behind their back, casting them out as hopeless souls I wanted nothing to do with. I wrote and wrote about why I considered them them the most needy and poor of all our fellow man, and how I could never serve them, because I was too disgusted by their oblivious nature. Well, it turns out that I was the oblivious one. This excerpt from Zooey's thoughts reminds us of a universal connectivity through Christ's universal presence. So the Fat Lady, the professor that Franny hates, the audience that Zooey hates, the upper-crust folks that disgusted me, they're all Seymour's Fat Lady, and thereby....also Christ Himself. In turn, I/We may also be another's Fat Lady--not a cross to bear, but difficult to love. It turns out that Sundays are the days that Starbucks stores are crowded to the brim with the same folks I described earlier. Them and their families who are just like them ("...all his goddam cousins by the dozens..."). They attend their "big-box" church service, and make a post-church/pre-shopping pit stop at Starbucks. Somehow I am scheduled to work every Sunday morning/mid-day, and for a short while this frustrated me. As the only Christian Supervisor who would perhaps rather attend church, I felt I had legitimate reason to not be scheduled Sundays (see that sense of Entitlement at work?), but there I was. At some point in the last year, I recalled these words from Franny & Zooey, and they haunted me as I refused to "shine my shoes" for people I felt did not deserve it. It wasn't until I came to a class early this Spring where my instructor was dressed unusually formal. He was wearing dress slacks and a tie, as opposed to his typical cotton shorts and hawaiian shirt. He explained that he was on a hiring board, and wore slacks and tie (which, arbitrary as they are alone, were in this case symbols of status) for an interview session out of respect to the applicant. We asked him why he couldn't just be "himself." He chuckled knowingly, reminding us that one's style of dress is not a summary of one's self, and it is not patronizing nor disrespectful to wear symbols of status in certain contexts, especially when those symbols will put your fellow man at ease, and comfortable to be themselves. He reminded us that if he were instructing at a University, depending on its status, he would not be permitted to wear the cotton shorts--he would be expected to live up to particular codes of dress. And those codes of dress for instructors are designed to respect the integrity of the learning environment, the University, and of course: the student. In that moment in class, the words from Franny & Zooey came together! Mr. Watters was shining his shoes for the Fat Lady. And a moment later, it came together for me, also. I needed to shine my shoes for my Fat Lady. So on Sundays, I wear the dress shirts & ties. And the folks who I would have ordinarily cast out as "Fat Ladies" see that I have worn a symbol out of respect for my position, for my company, and of course: for them. You wouldn't probably think so, but Sundays are much different since I have begun wearing the ties. Perhaps I have also been wearing a different attitude, but I have seen the Christ I was oblivious of before. I have seen sincerity and authenticity in folks who I had cast out as completely oblivious and artificial. And it not patronizing of them, it does not patronize me, but as a symbol (arbitrary though it is), it works to connect us in a way that we didn't have before. And as I see the Christ in them, hopefully they see Christ in me, and that is how Love & Joy are cultivated. And if part of that cultivation begins with donning a tie on Sunday mornings, then wearing that tie becomes an act of worship--something I never would have foreseen. So the ways in which we do small things to connect with who we are surrounded by, and not distract or deter them, are our ways of shining our shoes for the Fat Lady. And certainly our worship and our love would not end with the shining of our shoes; indeed, that is where our worship and our love would begin.

On Adulthood, Pt. II: Continued

<Click here to go to the Main section of Part Two>

I believe it is worth noting here an interesting thing that I found in some questioning as I began kicking these ideas around.

I would pose the question to people around me that had been posed to me: "Are you an adult?  What qualifies your distinction?"  I asked some folks of all ages, various backgrounds, genders--you get the idea.  When I asked folks who were a bit later on in life than I am, the responses were all "Yes," and the qualifications all laced heavily with reflections on experiences circled around family: Marriage, Birth of Children, Divorce, Birth of Grandchildren.  The threshold that one must forge through when peering at the prospects of Marriage, Children, and even when one must end a Marriage involves deeply Intimate Knowledge of Self.  Most did not articulate it with those particular words, but they all alluded to the necessity of Self-Knowledge for the sake of survival, and to healthily sustain Family.

When the question was posed to my peers (that is, folks around college-age), the answer was also always "Yes."  The qualifications cited by those folks were invariably circled around Finances and Personal Responsibility.  Personal responsibility for living expenses, leisure activities, and any number of variations on the concept of financial self-sufficience.  It was oddly curious that my peers consider financial self-sufficience the primary qualification for Adult distinction.  I suppose that any tangible evidence (Driver's License, Tax Forms) that associates an otherwise arbitrary word ("Adult") with one who considers being called a Child a high insult would be clung to tightly.  The State considers one an Adult at 18--Liquor Control waits another 3 years.  That evidence alone gives college-age folk the idea that they are Adults.  These same folk also cited how much more "Adult" they thought they were in comparison with their peers, which was an interesting factor by itself.
So: Associative Labeling and External Perception are the cornerstones of the Adult distinction for these particular folk; however, we know that true Adulthood is not "achieved" through Familiar thresholds of worldly successions, but instead through thresholds of Intimate Self-Knowledge.
The other curious factor in college-age folks' distinctions as Adults was that while explaining how one would qualify his or her self as an Adult, one would give:
1.) a confident "Yes,"
2.) a qualifier involving financial self-sufficience,
3.) several ways in which he or she was in fact Not completely self-sufficient, and still dependent on parental support financially,
4.) a more forceful "Yes."
This pattern tells me that we are not able to have truly honest internal dialogue regarding our own development and Adulthood.  If we are still Children--whether you qualify that with financial or developmental reasoning is up to you--why can't we just stand behind that distinction instead?  Why do we speak dishonestly with ourselves, and in turn, with our neighbors?  If we convince ourselves that we are of Adult distinction using Familiar Knowledge of our Selves, and that Knowledge isn't even Truthful, we are entangling ourselves in mental conditions that will set us further and further away from true Intimate Self-Knowledge--and subsequently, Fluency in Adulthood.

We must be honest.  We must be able to Defer our Gratification to unknown ends.  And we must be willing to see what lies within when honesty is practiced.  We will begin to see ourselves Intimately, and we will be exercising parts of our Minds and our Hearts that are necessary to be Fluent in Adulthood.  As we know our selves more and more Intimately, that heightened sense of Accountability to Neighbor I mentioned in the Main section of this Part will come in to play in a big way.  Let's get to that next.

On Adulthood, Pt. II: Intimate Knowledge of Self

<Click Here to go to the Introduction of this series>
<Click Here to go to Part One of this series, "Capacity for Deferred Gratification">

Intimate Knowledge or Familiarity

"At exactly which point do you start to realize
that life without Knowledge is death-in-disguise?
That's why Knowledge of Self is like life-after-death
Apply it to your life--let destiny manifest"
-Talib Kweli (as Black Star)

I head this section with a dualism that was not specifically drawn by Barber or Postman in their social critiques.  I added and chose this dualism because I have seen Familiarity equated with Intimate Knowledge far too often, only arresting our "adult" development in the long-term.  If we are to practice Adult Fluency, Familiar Knowledge of Self is not sufficient--we must be able to know ourselves Intimately.

The reason we must be working for Intimate Knowledge of Self as a characteristic of Fluency is that I believe that in order for us to be Fluenty outwardly, we must first be Fluent inwardly.  We cannot be Accountable or Reconcile externally if we are not Accountable and have not Reconciled internally.  An Intimate Knowledge of Self is difficult to describe, because the sensations may be different for each individual.  I'll do my best.

When we look inward to discover who we are, we must be willing and able to suspend our judgment for the sake of our learning and growth.  This practice is closely related to a Capacity for Deferred Gratification, but I believe it is more appropriate to cite this particular type of willing suspension here.  An important thing to remember is that while we look inside ourselves, we see through conditioned lenses--lenses that we will simultaneously be peering through and trying to clean.  Because of that, suspending our judgment will be very difficult; but, if we are able to do so, and practice that essence of humility that embraces the possibility of Not-Knowing, we will have a good place to start.  Let's do our best to start from scratch as we piece together and see our identities being formed.

As I mentioned earlier in this secion, we are often satisfied (unwittingly, like Baby, perhaps) with Familiarity, as a substitute for Intimacy.  We should not feel ashamed of this, but humbly acknowledge it for what it is: a series of crude associations memorized for the sake of having a base from which to understand ourselves and others.  We can recognize our dependence on Familiarity in the language we use when we describe our self or another.  Familiarity does not seek to know or express knowing, but instead seeks to memorize, classify, and categorize.  Familiarity seeks connectivity between associative labels and form judgments thereby.  If one gives commentary with phrases like "I'm not the type of person who ______," or, "He/she is just a _______ kind of person," or "...and you call yourself a ________," this person may be substituting Familiar Knowledge for Intimacy.  With judgments being formed out of classifications and categorizations, it can lead to even the most subtle of dehumanizations (that is, believing that any individual person or group of persons is inherently less human--including the self), and the denial of a person's humanity is the direct antithesis of Intimacy.  Familiarity is open to dehumanization, because Familiarity is centrally built on external perception(s).  Intimate Knowledge of Self does not take external perception in to consideration, because Intimacy marries the Self with an unconditional regard of Love and Admiration that is granted us by the Creator.  Unconditional--meaning that external perception is irrelevant to what one discovers in their Intimate Knowledge of the Self.
If one chooses a journey of self-discovery that holds Intimacy as the standard rather than Familiarity, it is almost definite that it will be a long, arduous, nearly impossible journey.  Knowing this, even when we see the fruits of the Intimate Knowledge, we stay on course with Familiarity, because: the demands are less consuming, the pre-conditions of our minds and hearts are permitted to remain unchanged, and we find that the short-sighted commitments to Familiar circumstances are easier to uphold than the all-consuming commitments to Intimacy; which, unlike Familiarity, we are unable to influence their outcomes.

Familiarity, if we remain in its' grasp, will sustain us only through lives of half-truths, impatience, wavering commitments, arrested intellectual & spiritual development, and overwhelming cynicism.  If we find ourselves wishing we could "just be ourselves no matter what," let our 'Yes' and 'No' actually mean 'Yes' and 'No' rather than 'Maybe," if we our discouraged by what we believe to be a lack of faith, and if we are consumed by the ills of humanity, a good place for us to begin thinking anew can be found at the end of the 139th Psalm: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."  If we ask God to reveal to us all that is inside us that is Artificial, all that is Childish, all that is Despicable, all that is Offensive, all that is Hateful, we will surely be shown.  And this is not to discourage us with the ugliness of our hearts--it is to confront, seek the roots of, work to Heal, and ultimately be a living testament to the redemptive beauty of Christ.  Healing in this way is not possible without Intimate Knowledge of Self, met with Intimate Faith that God truly can Redeem us.  In Familiarity, we are limited to only a categorical sense of who we are, where all things are justifiable, trust is formulaic, and nothing can be healed.  This is not the way of Adulthood, this is the way of vehement defense of a Childish lack of faith.

Intimacy with Self may very well be a different experience for each individual alive.  As we grow closer and closer to this Intimacy, we constanly are recognizing and working through pre-conditions of our Minds, and more importantly, our Hearts.  We find that external influences have shaped us more than we would have like--but if we are determined, we will muster the Courage to Think for Our Selves.  I often recall those famous words of Bob Marley for my conscious reminder: "Emancipate yourself from mental slavery--None but ourselves can Free our minds."  We will recognize that our televisions, our movies, our music, our magazines, our possessions, our peers, our elders, our children, are indeed not reflections of us, but in many ways are our Authors.  And, if we are Courageous enough, we will repeal their Authorship, and grant it in to the hands of the God of Generous Love and Good Providence.  The Courage that it takes to seek Intimate Knowledge of Self cannot be emphasized enough.  This Courage can not be fed by friends, by family, by profound beauty, or anything else that we receive.  It must come from within, where God has cultivated it.  Each of us are in some way haunted by the deep, dark places inside we are fearful will consume us if we venture in to--I encourage you to find the Courage to seek out the Intimacy in those places, because that Intimate Knowledge of Self begets Faith, and Integrity, and Committment.  Indeed we are weak, but Faith musters Endurance.  We are fools, but Integrity rejects our Folly.  When we lack Faith, Commitment bonds us to God himself.

When we have begun unpacking ourselves beyond the Familiar sense that we are so accustomed to, we can slowly (and I definitely emphasize slowly) begin searching for our new place in God's present Kingdom, and among our Neighbors.  When we have our first senses of an Intimate Knowledge of Self, we may be fearful of the unseen, but we must continue.  We may find that we have to "re-introduce" ourselves to our friends, our families, even God.  That re-introduction may bring warfare--as Lauryn Hill laments--because, "many people prefer deception."  I believe that we will find ourselves with new identities, new interactions with God, and new ways of living out relationships with Neighbors.

Hopefully, we will be granted a new, heightened sense of Accountability to our Neighbors.

On Adulthood: Introduction

Recently, while discussing life decisions with a friend over a cup of coffee on a set of cement steps, this friend asked me if I consider myself to be an "adult."  It struck me that nobody had ever asked me that question before.  I hadn't ever really asked myself that before.  I didn't know how to define "adult" in that moment, and as a result, ended up responding philosophically, stating that adulthood was not something to be strived for as somehow of higher value than childhood, and instead we should be striving for a fluency between the two and all grey area in between.  But of course, I thought further, and since I truthfully do consider myself an adult, began to ask what qualifies that distinction.

<It took me a while longer than I expected to write this post, for this reason: while self-analyzing, and cross-analyzing, I found in my methods some harsh double-standards.  I have been working to reconcile those double-standards, and did not feel it appropriate to post a piece which would employ them.  Thank you for your patience, those of you who have been waiting.  The rest of you, forget about it.>

"Adult" is commonly defined as "Fully grown" (Merriam-Webster, American Heritage, Random House).  This is far too objective a definition, because in nearly every context we use the word, we define far beyond physiological development.  Adulthood is a realm of Status that is neither an American invention nor an American institution, but we do have our own distinctions for that Status.  So, I will discuss what I feel to be particularly American ideas of Adulthood.
It is automatic for us to draw up Adulthood's cultural dualistic classification: Childhood.  Being asked if you are an adult is primarily the same as being asked if you are a child.  It seems that if you are not one, then you are the other.  I remembered a list of Adulthood/Childhood dualisms from a book called Consumed by Benjamin R. Barber, created as a development of concepts from social critic Neil Postman's book, The Disappearance of Childhood.  The list of dualisms looks like this:
DELIBERATION or IMPULSE
REASON or FEELING
UNCERTAINTY or CERTAINTY
DOUBT or DOGMATISM
WORK or PLAY
WORDS or PICTURES
IDEAS or IMAGES
HAPPINESS or PLEASURE
LONG-TERM SATISFACTION or INSTANT GRATIFICATION
ALTRUISM or EGOISM
PUBLIC or PRIVATE
SOCIABILITY or NARCISSISM
OBLIGATION (RESPONSIBILITY) or ENTITLEMENT (RIGHT)
EROTIC LOVE or PHYSICAL SEXUALITY
COMMUNITY or INDIVIDUALISM
KNOWLEDGE or IGNORANCE

Barber simplifies these and the rest of the dyads in to: HARD or EASY, COMPLEX or SIMPLE, and SLOW or FAST (ironic that he simplifies his essay for the sake of his "Adult" audience!).  You can see that these are fairly telling but also somewhat limited words to employ when defining what is realistically such a critical distinction to make for sake of our Personal, Spiritual, Relational, Social, and Employable well-being.  If we cast ourselves in to the first set of definitions, are we sure we are being honest with ourselves, or are we merely posturing for the sake of our fragile self-esteem?  I want to unpack some thoughts on a few of these concepts in particular, which I shall in a short series I'm calling "On Adulthood: Characteristics of Fluency."

Harry Potter: a synopsis

Desires for Venery Among the Elite Citizenry of Two Empires

There is much current discourse about the living American Empire coming in to a transitional period of being in its height and moving toward twilight, following in the perennial footsteps of the late Roman Empire.  Scholarship and intellectual discourse are laboring to display similar elements of structural design between the two world powers.  If in fact the Roman Empire was the greatest empire of the known world at its time, and the American Empire is the greatest empire of the known world in this time, it may be worthwhile to study more than only the political, economic, and military parallels that are found among the two.  It may also be beneficial for us to study the story of the lifestyles of the Roman citizenry, in order to find harmful patterns that we may also be either exhibiting or condoning—to our greater detriment.  The particular lifestyle that will be discussed here is the lifestyle of pursuing “venereal desire” displayed among elite Roman citizens, and how that same pursuit endures and thrives among the American Empire’s elite citizenry.

“Venery” is a word with Latin roots that associates its subject with things of the Goddess Venus; that is, in this case, sexual desire and fulfillment of those desires.  Merriam-Webster’s Medical Dictionary (2002) defines “venery” as “the pursuit of or indulgence in sexual pleasure.” Notice that even in a Medical Dictionary, the definition includes the indulgence of sexual pleasure without considering its reproduction purposes.  The culture of “desires for venery” is broad when considering the whole of the Roman Empire, but here I am concerning this discourse with primarily that of the elite citizens. 

Although the values that we historically attribute to Roman culture honor family, order, and earned hierarchal status, many dishonorable values existed also.  Such values are proved dishonorable by the damage they inherently inflict upon the elite men who exercise them, and the women who are used by those men as means of pursuing their desires for venery.  By the time that the Apostle Paul wrote his first epistle to the people of Corinth (then a Greek region colonized by the Romans), it was between 53-57 AD, and distinct traditions involving desires for venery were instituted and being heartily justified.  Elite men would gather for feasts; at which, they would first of all not eat at the table—they would lean on their left elbows, and be fed by the women, who were prohibited from being seated.  Whether the women were the wives of the men or the men’s slaves is not always clear, so it makes the best sense to conclude that they could very well be either at different feasts.  What is more important to consider is the women present for the “after-dinners,” at which the elite men of mature status would engage in venery with female prostitutes, provided by the host of the evening.  It was customary that the men could engage with any of the women present, because of the sense of entitlement they felt due to their elite status.  Women were still regarded as innately weak and subordinate, while elite young men were allowed to participate in the after-dinners once they were determined mature (around age 14) and permitted to don their toga.  The justification for these ambitions and behaviors is vocalized in the cry, “everything is permissible for me.”  This adage is born from an entitled, carefree, selfish, and powerful spirit, which in fact may also have been disenchanted, passionless, arrogant, and ill-informed.  It is in response to this attitude that Paul writes to the Corinthians that “not everything is beneficial,” and “I will not be mastered by anything.”  (Holy Bible, NIV, 1 Cor. 6:12)  Knowing that he is speaking to first-generation religious elites of a region in which he had founded a church only two years earlier, he assumes the directive role of preaching what he feels to be gospel truths to people who may or may not know any better.  He appeals to the citizens’ capacity to acknowledge their sexually immoral behavior:

Do you not know that he who unites himself with a prostitute is one with her in body?  For it is said, ‘The two will become one flesh.’  But he who unites himself with the Lord is one with him in spirit.

Flee from sexual immorality.  All other sins a man commits are outside his body, but he who sins sexually sins against his own body.  (1 Cor. 6: 16-18)

The Greek word that Paul employs to be translated to “sexual immorality” is “porneia.”  The New American Standard New Testament Greek Lexicon defines “porneia” as “illicit sexual intercourse,” which is interpreted as synonymous to the definition of “venery” included earlier in this essay.  Both earlier and later in the epistle itself, Paul includes the justifying argument put forth by the elite Roman citizens engaged in this pursuit of desires for venery or porneia, draws a distinct refutation against this justification, and appeals to the idea that their bodies are unique nexus’ of both physical and Holy, and that their capacity to understand this should lead them fleeing away from this lifestyle of pursuing desires for venery.  This is perhaps the best written documentation of the discourse regarding the entitlement that elite Roman men felt they could justify regarding their desires for venery.  It is this sense of entitlement, if not also the specific behaviors and traditions it spawns that is common among America’s elite citizens.

American elite citizenry, as is the case with Roman elite citizenry, will be remembered as representative of their empire, despite the fact that they were less in number than the other classes of citizens.  Aside from the one percent of Americans who possess 48% of the controllable wealth in this country, there is still about 18% of the American population who make up what I call the collegiate-class; meaning, families who have one or more immediate members enrolled in a 4-year degree program, or who have earned a 4-year degree.  This distinction sets this 18% in to the wealthiest of the history of the world—and most of these are motivated toward higher education through imperial (via corporate), political, or religious aims (whether or not we’d like to admit it). These American motivations are the shared ambition of Roman elites, and ambitious plebians.  The American collegiate-class, from its current students to their previously-graduated parents, is fast becoming the most extensively visible class of citizens in the country, and subsequently, one of the most influential.  The values and ideas of this class are infectious among that wealthiest one percent, and also those living with lesser means.  The New York Times ran an article on November 25^th of 2007 that shows pleasant surprise at the willingness of Washington D.C.’s wealthiest elite to shop at Costco, a store with an almost discriminately collegiate-class customer base.  The absolute poorest of our empire would have to be those living under American military presence in as-yet-underdeveloped nations.  They see American citizens of collegiate-class and strive for the same possessions, styles, and lifestyles that their collegiate-class neighbors do.  You can see the way the collegiate-class live their lives on reality television, YouTube, and online social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook.  Most Mainstream Media (MSM) (both news & entertainment) is produced by the collegiate class, and their material is subsequently in many ways representative of their identity as that class.  As strip malls and the dogma of small indulgences have saturated more of the average citizen’s physical and rhetorical landscape, collegiate-class lifestyle has become very nearly institutionalized, and also easier and easier to justify.  Still we look to the class that seems to be the elite, even if that might be our peers.  One of the places we take the most interest in is the commercial film and television industry.

The way American citizens have taken lifestyle cues from the commercial film industry is fascinating, especially since the industry has grown on pace with the rapid evolution of the American empire.  American imperial dreams as we now know them were only begun to be realized with the advent of industrial revolution around the turn of the 20^th century, which maybe in some ways also gave birth to the commercial film industry itself, as the necessary capital may have not been accessible before then.  So even from the earliest days, the wealthiest of the wealthy have always dictated what films would be released to the American public.  Now with the monopoly of the six major film & television studios and distribution companies, some select members of that wealthy one percent determine all commercial film & television material that reaches the collegiate and lower classes.  So we allow the values held true in the films and television shows we see as the ones we will also allow to define us as an empire’s citizenry.  In the most current age, citizens of collegiate-class are allowing themselves to be defined by films we call “the Frat Pack” movies, such as “Old School,” the “American Pie” series, “Superbad,” “The Girl Next Door,” and “sexually empowering” television programs including “Desperate Housewives,” “Blind Date,” “Sex & the City,” “the Real World,” “A Shot at Love,” “MTV Spring Break,” and virtually anything else airing on Viacom-controlled networks (MTV, MTV2, VH1, BET, CMT, Spike TV, Comedy Central), almost all of which portray the subjects living out “ordinary” collegiate-class lifestyles.  Granted, films and television shows with similar content have been created for decades now, but in the scope of the entirety of our empire, we can observe our willingness to allow this material to define our whole collegiate-class as our cries out that Everything is Permissible for us.  Our films show young people engaging in pursuit of desires for venery without conscience; so, our young citizens also engage in pursuit of desires for venery without conscience.  Our television programs show adults in pursuit of desires for venery as part of their identity; so, our adults pursue desires for venery as part of their identity.  As we the collegiate-class permit these messages to be displayed as our justifications for our pursuit of desires for venery, we employ the same justifications, though not necessary the same means, that those Corinthian Roman elites did, 1,950 years ago.

I have to wonder if we will reach a saturation point of these justifying declarations being circulated throughout our collegiate-class culture.  If we as the American collegiate-class continue to believe that our bodies are of little value, and that pursuing desires for venery is a healthy exercise of what is Permissible to us, how will that affect the fate of our empire?  Is there anything we can do from the not-as-visible sect of the collegiate-class to change or revise our course?  Of course, we also must consider whether or not Paul’s epistle to the Corinthians catalyzed them in to fleeing from desires for venery.  History tells us that it did not: eventually the Christians out-bred the Pagans and took over control of the empire’s government, which may be due to the children being born out of the porneia of the elite Roman men and women.  And yet, despite the endurance of the justifications for pursuing desires for venery, Paul’s documentation of the discourse concerning the morality of the pursuit 1,950 years ago remains preserved also.  This leaves our collegiate-class American elite citizens with a pertinent and urgent question: what will the documentation of our discourse be?

Jane Paige: The Dancer

THE DANCER

Once there came to the court of the Prince of Birkasha a dancer with her musicians.  And she was admitted to the court, and she danced before the prince to the music of the lute and the flute and the zither.

She danced the dance of flames, and the dance of swords and spears; she danced the dance of stars and the dance of space.  And then she danced the dance of flowers in the wind.

After this she stood before the throne of the prince and bowed her body before him.  And the prince bade her to come nearer, and he said unto her, "Beautiful woman, daughter of grace and delight, whence comes your art?  And how is it that you command all the elements in your rhythms and your rhymes?"

And the dancer bowed again before the prince, and she answered, "Mighty and gracious Majesty, I know not the answer to your questionings.  Only this I know: The philosopher's soul dwells in his head, the poet's soul is in his heart; the singer's soul lingers about his throat, but the soul of the dancer abides in all her body."

-Kahlil Gibran
(The Wanderer) 

Las Pasturas del Cielo

Last week I finished The Pastures of Heaven by John Steinbeck.  Published in 1932, it was one of his first major recognized works, and was a looming foreshadow of his work to come.  Both stylistically and thematically, Steinbeck paves the way for his more time-tested and legendary work.  I recommend this book to anyone who is wants to see Steinbeck's "Steinbeck-ness" unfold.  You can see the baby steps of East of Eden, Tortilla Flat, and The Grapes of Wrath here in Pastures.  The book is a compilation of 12 separate but intertwined stories involving citizens of these real pastures just outside Monterey, CA.  While most of them are sad, as they reveal the emptiness of ego, ambition, and hyper-traditionalism, one drove a stake through my heart.  The story of Tularecito, a young beastly boy who had the strength and maturity of a grown man but the intellect and social capacity of less than a small child.  He was encouraged irresponsibly by an insecure schoolteacher desperate to be liked and leave her mark on the world, and ended up in a mental facility.  A gentle, strong, compassionate young man, caught up in one woman's selfishness, and doomed to live an empty and unfulfilled life of staring at walls and being treated like a monster.  Very sad book, but take it for what Steinbeck gives it as: the truth of American humanity.  It's what he does best.

"The Brothers K" book review

I just read a classic.  "The Brothers K" by David James Duncan struck me deeply.  I became interested in it because I was told that since I liked Steinbeck's "East of Eden", I should give "Brothers K" a chance.  I had no idea what I was getting in to!  I thought I was just getting another epic story about the history of several generations of family.  What I actually got was a real depiction of a family driven to chaos, betrayal, murder, religion, hatred, solitude, deviance, and eventually, forgiveness.  Please permit me to tell you about my experience.

Unlike "East of Eden", "Brothers K" did not take 70 pages to start in on the story.  I appreciated that.  But Steinbeck was one of many authors that even my relatively-underread mind could see the influence from.  I easily picked up on the Dostoevsky (you'd have to be half-dead not to), and could draw heavy comparisons with the infamous Glass family from J.D. Salinger's "Nine Stories", "Franny & Zooey", and "Seymour: an Introduction".  Salinger's Glass family and Duncan's Chance family both have the eminent ever-loving but unreasonable mother, the mythical first-born son, the enlightened Buddhist son, the internally-conflicted Christian child, the curious-to-a-fault daughter, and precociousness all around.  The things I love most about the Glass family are alive in the Chance family.  Dostoevsky and the other Russian authors (that Duncan even cites through a prominent love interest figure of one of the sons) bear heavy influence on this work of Duncan's also.  The "East of Eden" comparison is legitimate, but the stories do not take parallel courses, nor do they insist on similar themes.  Duncan's 64o+ pages do almost add up to Steinbeck's 660+, but that's the last similarity.

Duncan's tale of the Chance family begins in the early '60s, and ends about 15 years later.  It tells the story of the father's perhaps inborn identity as a baseball player, and how he deals with that considering his hand was mauled in an accident while working at the local mill.  The tale chronicles the wayward lifestyles chosen by the Chance's four sons, and their all-consuming needs to establish their identities in regard to religion, family, love, life, money, the Vietnam war, even baseball.  Each of the stories unfolds in painful perfection, the reader having known where each boy came from.  The Chance family also includes two twin daughters, the youngest of the family.  Near the end of the book they become integral characters, with entire sets of complexes all their own, being the youngest siblings of these powerful four young men.  All this time one of the central parts of each character's psyche is the influence of their mother, an understatedly devout Adventist, who is fearless in her conviction to live and demand that those she loves to live as she thinks is right.  Like I said: ever-loving, but unreasonable.  It's a great story of family and how they react to religious division, bitter war, lost love, harsh betrayal, and hard-sought forgiveness.

I recommend this book to anyone who appreciates a story that not only moves you as a spectator, but who grapples the critical issues the characters also grapple, and like what it does when it gets inside your head.  I am still reeling from reading this book; indeed, that is how I know that I may call it a "classic" in my lifetime.  I have loaned my copy out, so go out and get your own!  And get it used.   Books are always better when you know they've been in someone else's hands first.
Enjoy!