Big In Oh Four

What a year!
Reflection at this level deserves at least a blog entry. Hopefully people read it. I am trying to remember the big events in my life in the last year. I am trying to remember because time has a way of ebbing the distinct truth and blurring it into perspective.

I remember starting the year at my little brother's house in Pontiac. It was a New Year's Eve Party. It had been a long December and there was reason to believe that maybe this year would be better than the last....or so the Counting Crows had led me to believe.

I had a lot to look forward to. I never realized how much I would see this year.
I never realized that in only four weeks I would see Janet Jackson's bejeweled nipple. Nothing can prepare you for that at halftime.

I never realized that I would move out on my own. I never realized that I hated dogs so much.

I never realized that being alone would be such a miserable experience for me.

I was taking drugs at the beginning of this year. Not hallucinagenic drugs, but I was taking Stratera, a time-released version of Ritalin. My thinking had never been clearer. But I also never realized that thinking so clearly would drive me crazy.

I never realized that once I was single that so many people would be interested in me. I never realized that having all of these people interested in me would be so meaningless.

I never thought that my Daughter's starting school would be such a huge event. I never thought about that.

I am glad that I finally got a cell phone. I am glad that I have been on a few dates.

I am glad for the diverse experiences I've had this year. I never realized that I would find a bar where I could get 48 ounces of GUINNESS for $1.50. I never realized I would complain when said bar would raise the price to $2.00 in the last week of the year that I would find myself complaining.

In the last year I developed a love for the art of Karaoke and Thai food. I have made so many new friends from new cultures and new experiences and backgrounds. It has been an exciting year.

I was hoping at the beginning of this year that I would miss Jason, my brother less. I was disappointed to discover myself missing him more.

I found myself enrolling in school, enrolling in sins, and enrolling in revival.

I found myself finally getting what the Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning was about. I get it.

I found myself reading Fyodor Dostoyevski and discovering the dark abyss that is the human heart and what it is capable of commmitting at any point. I found myself reading and reading in fear.

I found that the New U2 Cd was inspiring, that I was not disappointed in Bono's spiritual rediscovery. I agree with him when he says, "Yahweh, Yahweh, always pain before a child is born...Yahweh, Yahweh, always dark before the dawn."

I sit now on New Year's Eve, ready to begin a new year with a new experience, with a new vitality.

I am excited. I am ready to move. I am ready to pick myself up off the floor. I am ready move like today never happened before. Seriously.

Call me. Write me. Page me. Brandon is ready to move. He wants this. Happy new year. May 2005 be a year of vitality, success, prosperity, life and change.

Used

Ok, So I have this roommate. I love her as a dear friend. She is funny, creative, intelligent, and insecure in a humorous way. We are good friends and we talk a lot etc. Her boyfriend and I are really close friends, so don't even get any wild ideas.

One of the things I like about her is that she is sympathetic to my beliefs, and sensitive to what people say about Christians. She went through a phase of her life where she was born again and looks back on her early days in Christianity with fondness. I do not know about what kind of role Christ plays in her life now, but I know she believes.

Last night her little sister came over. To set this up, she is always going on about how every guy who wants to meet her little sister wants to have sex with her. She was really insistent that if I saw her sister in person, that I would want to seducer her and sleep with her. I maintained that would be a wild challenge that I would be open to facing (please, if you take that the wrong way, I will laugh at you).

So the sister comes over. She looks remarkably like her sister (my roommate) only dolled up a little more to appear more attractive. However, the powers that be (male hormones specifically) did not deem it necessary for me to be attracted to this girl. Her friend, however.... blog topic for another day.

The younger sister that I was supposed to be attracted to was telling a story about her 2 brothers, whom we will call brother A and brother B. Brother A had recently been given a Bible and was reading it. He was looking for God. In some of his reading, he found something waking up inside him. He confronted brother B while brother B was high on marijuana and told him that what he was doing was wrong. Brother B, in his state, found that to be hillarious.

Little sister thought that it was so funny that her older brother A had become "A Bible Freak". My roommate hates when people talk negatively about people's religious beliefs. To try to shuth her sister up and quiet her rampage against "Bible Freaks" she points to me and says, "Hold on, he's a Bible freak."

I was really conflicted on how to feel about that response, and how I should have responded. My roommate I know was not trying to insult me. She was trying to shame her sister about using that kind of terminology about her brother and in front of me.

I waved, fake smile in full force.

I felt used or violated for her doing that without my permission. I know she meant no malice. It just was weird. "Hi, I'm Brandon, your sister's Bible freak roommate."

I was never comfortable with the word "freak". When DC talk created all that hype about being a Jesus Freak, I didn't get on that bandwagon. I always figured that if I was going to be a freak, that would be my option. You don't have to be freakishly weird to love God. I still maintain that.

I also couldn't tell which bothered me more. Being called a freak by my friend or being called a freak in such a negative way in front of her attractive friend. Now the little sister was obnoxious, self-centered, and loud. Her friend was cute, and mild-mannered. A little more mature and wiser. Being called a freak in front of her obviously had negative results in any sort of impression I was trying to make.

Am I ashamed of the Gospel? No. Am I ashamed of the word, "freak"? Yes.

Later, my roommate apologized for using me to shut her sister up. I accepted her apology. Life goes on. It was just an interesting experience. I'm sure if I examine this closer, I will find other factors that made me respond the way I did.

I know it's cool in Christian circles to be insulted for Jesus. Its a badge of honor. But in this case, I don't think of myself as a martyr for Jesus. I think I was used as a tool to shut someone up who was bothering my rooommate. Martyrdom is for real persecution.

I like my Bible. I like Jesus. But this experience made me realize a lot about what Christians celebrate as persecution. Most of what we experience is not real persecution. It's just ignorance. It's not like people are taking our homes, killing our families and feeding us to lions. It's not like we are being Crucified with Christ. We don't have to go out of our way to piss off the world.

If we are proclaiming Christ with love real persecution will visit our doorsteps. We dont have to be obnoxious, snotty, or pedantic in our approach to the world. We can be polite. We can be civil. We can be courteous and reasonable. It's ok.

Often we are so afraid of rejection and humiliation that we present ourselves defensively, with bravado, and boldness where gentleness and civility would be more appropriate. When that bravado and offensiveness is rejected, we say they are rejecting Christ, when really, they are rejecting our hypocritical methods of presenting Christ.

That's all I'm getting at.

Brandon

Afficianado

I guess that the word is out. I am not that good at many things, but I do like to listen to a wide variety of music. Wider than most, but not so wide as to ever include Country. Ever. My neck is red enough without adding that ignorant artless crap to my forte. Am I speaking plainly enough?

For Switchfoot fans, I just saw a box CD at FYE of their first three albums for $24. Which means you can get it cheaper than that if you are keen.

Speaking of keen, I think my next purchase will be Keane. I enjoy their sadness. I am totally addicted to "One Click Shopping" on Amazon.com. I keep buying used CD's at ridiculously low prices and paying astronomical shipping for these products. I'm still making out like a bandit.

A true friend would want to buy me the new U2 signature iPod.

Am I the only one who's ever heard the Japanese version of Sixpence Nonethericher's "Kiss Me"? Talk about surreal and creepy.

Leigh Nash is cool, but not when she sings Japanese. It's so weird.

I bought the new Skillet CD. Its good. Its not life-changing good, but it's good. Its not really inspiring, but it's good. They sound like what Linkin Park would sound like if they didn't rap. Sort of. I don't know. Its solid hard rock, passionate, just not connecting with me deeply.

I got the new Jimmy Eat World CD. It is amazing. Right where I am. I preordered U2 and reordered The Joshua Tree (again on Amazon). I can't play my copy anymore so I needed a new one.

Since I can't find my Bible I went out and spent $30 on a new one. It is the first time in years that I've had a Bible without study notes. I am so happy. It's like I'm free of other people's opinions about what I'm reading. I can read it and just enjoy it. I don't have to listen to some half-rate Bible scholar's opinion about TULIP or eternal security or speaking in tongues or whatever. Clear the noise.

I saw Jimmy Eat World on Letterman the other night. They are so cool.

U2 will be On Saturday Night Live This weekend singing songs from the new Album. Needless to say, I'm excited. They are always good on SNL.

I got to hear Jay Z's black album. It was good. I got to hear it on the Gray album. Jay Zs vocals played over the Beatle's White Album. Another surreal moment. My friend, Betsy says that there is a Black and Blue album too. Where Jay Z's pirated vocals are played over pirated songs from Weezer's blue album. I guess that's what Jay Z gets for putting out an a capella rap album. Loser.

The New Pornographers are really growing on me. I keep hearing their songs on LAUNCH. They have guy songs and chick songs. And they harmonize. Yay! Still no porno. (keeps fingers crossed).

Talk to you guys later

Brandon

Gone

"My High School Dreams are Gone,
My Childhood Sweets are gone
Life is a day that doesnt last for long"

So if life is short, then why do I spend so much time bored out of my skull?

I take full responsibility for the things I don't blame others for. Yogi, you have my permission to steal that one.

Tom told me that if I spaced my words out, he'd have less of a difficult time reading them.

Switchfoot says everything is gone, or will be. I agree.

For so long I've compartmentalized my life. Spirituality for my spiritual life. Humor for the funny life. Great Lakes Friends. Work Friends. Jesus friends. Satan friends. Family. Enemies.

I realize now that I really don't have time to manage the separation. I hear this song and I reflect on what's gone and what isn't.

My high school dreams are gone. I get it.
My college dreams are gone.
My family dreams are gone.
My career dreams are gone.

Then I realized. Dreams aren't real. So what if they are gone?

What I've really lost are some close friends, my wife, my connection to anything.

Humility in small doses would be a welcome lesson. The Lord has really been generous in his doses of this magnificent reality. I've eaten my hero's portion of humility.

Why do I always feel like I'm one random thought away from depression?

I just want some safety. I should put together a resume. Like a friendship/relationship resume. What would that look like? Definitely an interesting topic. Maybe for a later blog. Skills, experience, education, job description. All that sort of thing.

Maybe I should post a job on monster.com. WANTED: a reliable, trustworthy friend within 20 miles of Detroit. Doesn't pay well, but the benefits are incredible!!!!

Just a thought.

Just In Time

I think I'm ready. Just when I think I'm ready, I have an epiphany. When I have an epiphany, i freak out. I'm not ready. Then I realize, I can't ever really be ready. I just need to do it.

I watched the movie, Adaptation yesterday. How amazing! I learned so much about life and myself from this movie. Watch it.

The character, Charlie Kauffman, has so many things in common with me it's scary. Mostly the things that keeps him from being happy and enjoying his life. His twin brother, Don is the character I wish that I was. I could see both sides of myself in these two characters.

Charlie was insecure, never sure of himself, always second-guessing, making sure his appearance was acceptable and good. He was always afraid of what people thought about him. Donald was a goof-ball, happy-go lucky sort who always had a smile and success came easily to him because he was so likable, even if people were laughing at him and not with him.

One thing Donald said was amazing though. He said that he was who he was because of who he loved, not because of who loved him. He owned his love. He didn't wait for people to love him first in order to love them. WOW! To a self-absorbed egomaniac like me, those words have a clanging power to them.

I can see how many friendships I've lost, how many interesting things I've passed, How many great experiences and opportunities I've missed because I was waiting for something like that to happen, instead of making it happen.

Charlie wondered why Donald would put himself out there so much. Didn't he fear looking stupid? What if people rejected him? Then what? Donald just said that those people had no right to take his love away from him. It was his to give. You see, its these things that so many people take for granted about love that Brandon tends to overlook.

I find myself in both characters. Some days I'm Charlie. Some days I'm Donald. I like myself more as Donald, but the cynical Brandon/Charlie is the dominant character.

Being elitist and intellectually superior has its moments, to be sure. There is definitely something satisfying in thinking that I'm better than other people. It's always come easy to me. But, On the other hand, my biggest fear is people thinking that I'm stupid. That is so paralyzing. It's lonely and being enigmatic is a cover for fear of being criticized.

It was amazing how cool this movie was. I liked it more than Being John Malkovich (I really liked that one too).

1001 Random Thoughts About Music Mostly

Oh, hi there neighbor. George Bush is our president for four more years. I hope that will put an end to the question of "Who do you think I will blame all my problems on for the next four years?"

Has anyone besides me pre-ordered their new U2 cd's? They had a really good deal on it at VH1.com or whatever.
It's called How to Dismantle An Atomic Bomb.

This I can put on the list of CD's I no longer need to purchase.

I can't really give you a review yet. I have not heard it. I guess you can say I put my faith in the U2 product enough to order it ahead of time. My Bible is Missing. AWOL.

Ironically, I was just listening to a band called the New Pornographers. You'll be relived to know that the song I'm listening to has no pornography whatsoever. I think it is their idea of a clever band name. The band is actually quite talented. If I was going to start a secular band I think I would have an excellent name for it.

The Barely Legal Teens. Or you could call it BLT for short. YOu would always find the records right next to the Barenaked Ladies. You may notice that the 2 band names have something in common: the word "bare" as a root word and the implication of something sexually perverse. Pure marketing savvy. For the kinky crowd, BLT sandwiches might also have that connotation. I am praying for you.

There was a point in time when saying that you were a fan of Belle and Sebastian (the band, not the half-rate anime cartoon from the 80s) was somewhat avante garde. I am declaring that time to be at an end. Move on.

Yesterday, my roommate was really annoying me. Imagine this scenario. We are both sitting on opposite couches and she has the remote as we face the television. She flips rapidly through the channels but waiting long enough to see what is on the screen.

If it was a basketball player, she would say something like "No yellow jerseys". next channel. "No kids with glasses" Next channel "No wet dogs" next channel "no jewish women" next channel "No green cars" and she flipped through the channels pretty rapidly. I even chimed in on a couple because the game was cute for a minute.

But she kept going. "No men with guns" next " No men with red ties" next "no italians" next "no white computers" next "no salesmen with jewels" next "no scrolling letters" next etc etc. The went on for like 10 solid minutes. How? I think she took some improvisation classes in college. She's pretty handy with the free association.

Living with my roommate is really cool. She is messy. She is annoying. But, beneath all that, she's absolutely hillarious.

Finally Her boyfriend pulled an intervention. He stole the remote and put it back on the Pistons Game. Good man.

Does anyone besides me like the Sneaker Pimps? I mean, beyond the name. The name is just cool enough to be likable. But the band is actually quite interesting.

I also like the Fountains of Wayne. what a cool name.

I apologize in retrospect for how random this blog is.

I think I would like Enya more if I had someone to be bored out of my mind with. But alone, its just a soundtrack to a depression.

Am I the only One that thinks Switchfoot's first CD was still their best one? If Shannon actually read this blog, I think he would agree with me. For those who are interested, it is calld The Legend of Chin. Cool name

I think I like My Chemical Romance. It's gonna take a few more listens for the jury to come in.

I'm gonna give more respect to Sunny Day Real Estate. They are a band from "my era" but I never paid any attention to them til recently.

When Rolling Stone said their 1995 self-titled CD was one of the most influential CD's of all time (other than anything recorded by Elvis, Hendrix, Dylan, Beatles, Stones, Zeppelin, or Nirvana) I had to give it a listen. They claimed that SDR were the forefathers of modern EMO and Screamo. I think I have to agree. You can totally hear where The Used, Finch, Thursday, TAking Back Sunday, Dashboard Confessional get their whiny vocals with cool guitars from.

Bjork is cool, but weird.

Third Eye Blind asked us "How's it Gonna Be?" I think we all know the answer at this point. Crappy.

Me First & The Gimme Gimmes covered the song Prince wrote for Sinead O'Connor, "Nothing Compares To You" but they did it with ska. Can I safely say that the whole ska thing has been played out?

The Insyderz covered the Cars Song "Just What I needed". That was actually kinda cool. YOu know why it was kinda cool? Because it didnt really sound like the Insyderz.

Would you laugh if I said I actually liked Brandy's new CD? Ok not enough to buy it, but I do like it.

If you like your music dark and peaceful, I recommend Interpol. Sigur Ros, The STills, Keane, and MOrcheeba.

If you like just cool. Then TRy Sloan, The Beta Band, The Tragically Hip, The Vines, Weezer or a thousand others. Like the New Pornographers.

I think honestly that Chevelle, even though they started out on a Christian Label, and you can still buy their cds at Christian Bookstores, are still a really cool band. The nicely replaced my need to listen to Tool. They are like a slightly less messed up version of Tool. But they have very similar themes and fits of rage.

Someone told me that they dont like the Hoobastank CD. The same person said they dont like the new Jimmy Eat World. I myself am not a huge fan of Hoobastank or the band they try to imitate, Incubus. I am disappointed to hear about the lack of love for JEW. Now I'm hesitant to buy this CD. Can we say file sharing?

I think the STereophonics are so cliche. Wilco is interesting again.

I wish I could get a job declaring what is cool and what isn't. I'd be pretty good at it.

Pros and Cons of the Single Life

PROS.

1. You can do the dishes whenever you want, not when your spouse wants you to. This also goes for taking out the trash, doing the laundry, and changing lightbulbs.
2. No more fighting over the remote control. You watch what you want on TV when you want to. This also goes for internet time, bathroom reading, radio stations, CD selection and video rentals.
3. The fact that you get to drive everywhere and not be bothered by your spouse's apparent ineptitude behind the wheel.
4. I am always on time.
5. Sleep is more natural without icy feet touching you somehow. And I can choose the side of the bed I desire to sleep on, and sleep there
6. You no longer have to go to the store 100 times a day. You can actually make your list and THEN go. And not have to go back 99 more times. If you remember that you need something else that you forgot, you can go tomorrow, without guilt.
7. You can get up an hour before work, shower, eat breakfast, drink coffee and drive to work without talking to anybody, the natural way any human male was meant to get up in the morning.
8. You can come home from work, take off your shoes, eat your dinner, and read the newspaper without having to answer 100 questions about what you are going to do for the evening, the weekend, the month, and without having to listen to anyone else tell you the answers to those questions (because you dont really have a choice anyway).
9. If you are annoyed with certain members of the opposite sex, you dont have to call them. you can stop seeing them. You can opt out. You can find someone else. You have that option. Everything is optional.

CONS

1. You actually have to do the dishes, clean your house, change your TP and do your laundry. YOURSELF.
2. Most of the time, your only company is the television you are controlling, or the book you are reading.
3. You can't drive too far for fear of falling asleep at the wheel.
4. Being on time isn't all that it's cracked up to be.
5. Instead of parts of my leg being cold from feet, now the whole bed is cold.
6. You have to remember to buy things that you need. The things you used to buy for gratification don't actually nourish you. Now you have to remember nutrition classes from middle school to remember what you need to buy at the grocery store.
7. There is something to be said for an annoying nagging voice in the morning to get you out of bed.
8. Making your own decisions isn't all it's cracked up to be.
9. Everything is optional. Nothing is definite.

Americans Mysticism and Music

I am a music lover. I love music more than many of my friends. For example, If I had to choose between keeping some friends over my U2 collection, the U2 collection would win.

Why do I and many others love music so much? I feel a connection that I don't get from everyday people. I feel something. It moves my heart. It connects on some primative emotional level. I hear the words sung in a certain way and I feel in that moment that the songwriter or singer understood me for a second. And for me, that is rare--to be understood.

So I love it. The feeling of being understood and connected is vital. It helps me go through hard times. It helps me feel like I am not alone in feeling the way that I do. I am always impressed by the amazing efforts to keep time and harmony so efficiently as musicians do. The more complicated the effort, the more amazing. The simple purity also reaches me in places I haven't explored.

Churches have played on this for as long as I can remember. If you sing long enough and emotionally enough, it seems, the presence of the Holy Spirit will come into a room full of people who are worked up into an emotional frenzy. A church that doesnt work its people out this way s considered to be spiritually dead because people can't feel the presence of God working. We all know what a reliable litmus feelings are!

We get going and we jam and we dance and clap and raise our hands, hoping for a prayer that God will connect with us somewhere and give us our emotional orgasm. Pick us up. Get us High on Jesus for a few minutes. Give us our fix for a week or so.

Don't get me wrong. Jesus is way cool. The Holy Spirit is a spirit, and that is so cool. But God does not serve us. He is not our pusher our dealer or pharmacist. He isnt our pimp. Church is not a way for us to legitimize getting off. Nothing wrong with getting off, but lets remember what getting off is for--marriage, not church.

Music is great. Its one of my favorite things in the world. But just as mistaken are the people that believe that demons inhabit the music of the world, the Holy Spirit isnt compelled to arrive at the beat of a righteous musician. There is no spiritual power in music. None. It is simple repetition and melody that the human brain and heartbeats identify with. It stimulates the brain to create a mood. It connects with your physical and chemical composition to help aid you in your meditation. But spirits are not controlled by musical beats or notes. Good or Bad.

Whether you felt it or not, whether you knew it or not, whether you got off or not, or whether it felt dead or not, the Spirit of God is always with you. Even in a room full of Satan-worshippers beating their chests and cutting themselves, the Spirit of God is there (e.g. Elijah, Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego).

That is why you can never ever tell me that there is such a thing as a dead church. Just churches with different ways of expressing life, mistaken or correct. But death is up to God.

I've been wanting to write but I have been having a hard time being honest, so I just haven't posted. The intent for this blog was to be honest. I have been trying not to cheat the readers. So I have the nerve to talk about what I've been meaning to talk about today.

Today's subject: Broken Heart.

I've been really down the last couple of weeks or so. I've been missing the nice parts of being married and in a relationship with a woman. I miss sex. I miss comfort and friendship. I miss it all because I keep reminding myself of how great it was. I miss Jodi a lot, but that's not the point of this blog.

I miss my friend. Since Jodi and I split up I had started a passive dating relationship with another woman. It went on and off for a few months. It was never serious. It was just a great friendship that filled the void I had for a while. In retrospect, I guess if I were to label it, it would be the REBOUND.

I knew the whole time that it was doomed. But I wanted something so bad and desperately (and no it wasn't about sex) that I just let it happen. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to love. I told myself to not get involved. Not to feel. Not to experience that pain again. It was too soon.

I couldnt help myself. I could seriously just have been friends with this woman. She is still my friend, but not the way I had intended. So I'm a little disappointed.

As I said it was passive, and not too serious. She was seeing other people and I was intending to, but it never happened. I got attached. Now that I think about it, I was more attached to the idea of her than her. There were many exciting aspects to being this woman's friend. She was smart, beautiful, funny, and so different from anyone I had ever dated before. We got noticed wherever we went. People always stared and pointed. It was shocking. The whole interracial thing was something new and novel. But in the end, she chose another man over me.

Not a hard thing to do. I mean, come on! Look at Me! So I am determined to chill out for a while. Get by with a little help with my friends. (are you out there?)

I promise, lighter subjects are gonna follow. I am thinking of starting a new blog reviewing music. Not to end this one but a separate entity altogether. let me know what you think.

Animal Cruelty

Just so you all know, I am doing fine. I currently live with my friend's girlfriend. It sounds weirder than it is. She is a close friend, like a sister, and is seriously in no danger of me lusting after her, just not my type...at all.

The arrangement works out great. I am the big guy that keeps her weird neighbors and old weird friends from bothering her. I give her a low rent and everyone is happy. Except me. It isn't her so much as it is her dirtiness. Anyone who knows me has to know that for me to say anything about cleanliness requires an extreme problem.

In the four months that I've lived there, I am the only one who has vacuumed, cleaned the floors or done the dishes. I am the only one who has cleaned the bathroom.

She has a self-defrosting freezer that frosted up because it was too full and messy.

She has a dog. A Maltese. White dog of miniature death. I want to kill the animal, not out of cruelty toward animals but in self-defense. The animal is cruel to me. In the time that I've lived there, the dog has managed to eat my $150 sunglasses, eat my toothbrush, poop on my shirt and piss on my suitjacket. He eats the trash. He pisses on the linoleum. He craps all over the friggin house. And she never cleans it up. I used to but now I'm doing an experiment. I want to see how many pieces of crap it takes for her to start smelling it. So I step over it on the way in the house and step over it on the way out of the house. I know she comes in and out the same door as me, so I know she doesnt miss it. She has to be ignoring it, hoping I will do something about it.

I think the girl is really cool and we would get along great if the dog was dead. But, on the other hand, I think she would not really be friendly toward me if she found out I murdered her instrument of torture/dog.

Animals are overrated. They are worse than children (and that is saying a lot). Why anyone would suffer through the smell, the hair, the barking, and the crap is beyond me. At least kids will eventually help you with the chores.

I think I'm gonna move.

The Problem Of Jason

I know everyone who reads this blog gets tired of hearing about Jason, my brother. I know everyone is tired of being bummed out by what I write. I wish I had better news, but right now this is where I am. Or, better said, this is what I am choosing to write about. In writing, you can clearly state one thing and have it misunderstood by many. I write these down not only for the benefit of my community, but really mostly for the benefit of my state of mind; it's remarkably cheaper than therapy. So read with caution.

I recently had someone tell me that I write about my problems for sympathy. There is truth to that. I accept that. I want to be understood. I find it rare that anyone understands me, ever. So I write to a general audience seeking a small demographic sample that may find my writings to be interesting, enlightening or even challenging. I hope that a year from now I am not embarrassed by my thoughts, because I find the honesty and disclosure to be outrageously refreshing.

I am looking for empathy more than sympathy. I want you to walk in these shoes. It reminds me of a song by king's X.

SHOES

There can be but better ways from yesterdays to me
Somewhere there are better days for better ways to be
Sunny Days Have Funny Ways of Quieting the Roar
Is it still a blessed thing to live and live some more?

And I'm left with the truth
And I'm right in my mind
Given Some of the time, maybe never
So I walk in these shoes
When I feel its the blues
If it aint it will do....

I woke up early one morning
Like I been under a spell
Gazed into the mirror reflection
Said I had to do it or else.

And I'm left with the truth
And I'm right in my mind
Given Some of the time, maybe never
So I walk in these shoes
When I feel its the blues
If it aint it will do....

Oooh, things are through

There can be but better ways from yesterdays to me
Somewhere there are better days for better ways to be
Sunny Days Have Funny Ways of Quieting the Roar
Is it still a blessed thing to live and live some more?

From this I gather: I am weeping a lot. I am. I am mourning. I am still mourning. Sorry Russell. I am. If you choose not weep with me, then it's on your head. I am mourning so many losses I can't count them all. Say what you want. But your happy speeches make no sense to the mourning. I have no problem bearing that to the world. I am confessing it.

In my youth I had plenty of sunshine. I had rain. But mostly sunny days and lemonade. One time on a sunny day i scraped my arm, and shook the italian dressing and it got inside the wound. Man, that hurt.

I had a luxurious childhood safe from most harms. It didnt prepare me for the misery I have recently endured. I now appreciate those days more. I can now truly appreciate those people with worse lives than mine.

I remember sitting around a campfire as a child at church camp hearing the confessions of these kids. I remember them telling about the abuse they endured, about the sins they committed, about the problems they endured. I used to pray to God for something bad to happen so that I could understand them better. Isnt that nuts? Its like the kids in my store who cry when they don't get to wear glasses because they have no prescription.

I prayed in college for God to undo me. To destroy me. Man. Did that ever work! I am stripped. Woe to me! I am undone! For I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips. All the words I speak are tainted.

And so that is my point. I am getting up. I am moving on. Its nothing like anything you could imagine. Its different. Its worse. And It's not as bad as you thought.

Its just life. Its terrifying. Its thrilling and exciting. Hopefully you find someone wonderful who understands you and can cry with you. someone to hold you when you are weak and dry your tears. I had that for a while and it was great. I dont have that now and I miss it. I want that desperately.

Please save your speeches about how God/Christ are there doing that for me now. We all know that is true and wonderful information in the information age. He does it in His own time. And now I know what it is to want. I want more comfort. I want more satisfaction. I want more.

I'm greedy. I'll deal with that on my own time. LOL. Blogging is so nuts. Why do I tell you people these things? I know for a fact I would never tell you all these things in person. It would be some joke or another. I'm quite funny still.

Whatever. This is me. the real me.

HOW? HOW? HOW?

When you fall really far, like from the top floor of a 100 story building, you build a great deal of vertical velocity. Gravity is a real bitch in that scenario. Cement, though, is the bigger bitch. When your body hits that immutable firmness, it expands, shifts and gives. Your bones break into hundreds of pieces. Your flesh tears and your blood shoots out into a spray so big like the biggest water balloon. Dont ask me how I know this.

Falling hurts so bad that it hurts even to think about it. It hurts to talk/write/contemplate it. It hurts because you know what's coming. Advice.

You get a thousand opinions about how to get back up.
1. The scriptures say you are letting Satan have a foothold. You are not really fallen. You are victorious. You're Believing a lie. I am blessed with spiritual knowledge. Whatever.
2. Pray more. God will lift you up. True but when? How does that help me right now? I am. I pray. Help me stop being a pancake here on the ground.
3. Come to our church. Our church is so much better. Then you'll feel better.
4. Go back to school. Make some money. You'll be miserable, but comfortable.
5. Have a drink. You'll still be miserable, but you'll forget it for a while.
6. Sleep with me. You'll still be miserable, just a new kind of miserable.
7. Hang out with your buddies. "Hey! I'm a pancake, remember?" Come scoop me up. Bring your very best spatula from SPATULA CITY, where they sell spatulas...and that's all.
8. This isnt really advice. But I hear "I am praying for you. " Thank you for the prayer. But this pancake isn't gonna reform itself. It needs therapy. It needs rehabilitation. So it doesn't look so pancaky anymore.

This is not meant to be a criticism of anyone in particular. I'm venting. Nobody has yet to mean me harm. Ok. Maybe one person. But that is pretty good considering.

But I just will keep writing. Please read this stuff. I remember being a pastor with a lilly-white past. I had no idea how to cope with people who were suffering. I had no idea what they were going through. I remember hearing the song "Take My World Apart" by Jars of Clay. Unmake me. I wanted so badly to be broken, you know, so I could understand Christ better and be a more empathetic minister (what a messed up way of thinking).

God answered my prayer. He took my world apart. Broke me into a thousand fragile pieces. To teach me. Nobody is invulnerable. Nobody is safe. As long as we live with people, we will all suffer. Suffering sucks.

It does! But hear this: God does not allow us to suffer so that He can take away our suffering. He does it so that by enduring suffering, we develop patience. It is discipline. The task I'm being called to is unique. I am still finding what it is. I am not done suffering yet. Not just suffering for the gospel, that would be awfully pious. Nope Just general miserable life type of suffering. Tell you what, though. I am learning a remarkable lesson in compassion. I am learning about what I really want from others when I'm suffering.

I think that by going through this, I am learning how to mourn with others. To really mourn. With them. Not just feeling sorry for them. Really mourning. I appreciate those of you who chose to mourn with me, rather than promise me happiness. I love how you cried with me and said "I dont know what to do!" I know! Me either! I love it. I know what it is to go without.

And that is just a small sampling of the advice I've honestly received.

This is strange and yet a happy strange. And straightforwardly not what I intended or designed this blog to be. But I have to be honest with you, the residuals are kind of nice. I wanted to incite some emotion. I wanted to spark some discussion. I wanted lashings of criticism. I am still trying. I will get it.

However, what I did not expect from this blog was encouragement. It is like a drug that keeps the lonelies away. I've been hearing from people I haven't talked to in almost 10 years. They don't know what to say, ironically, but the fact that they say anything is even a little encouraging.

So thank you. For those of you who responded with encouragement, thank you. For those who have responded with prayer, thank you. For those of you who responded with laughter, thank you.

And I would like to thank the Academy... well not really. Thank you India.

No thank YOU, Alanis

Tom, Shannon, Bob, Austin, Eric, Megyn, Nita, Regen, Heather, Tim, Kara, Ben, and Russell. Thanks.

I actually feel a little better today. Even if I'm only hanging on by a thread, thanks.

Thank you for everyone else I am not mentioning because I forgot or intentionally left you out. And for those I am not thanking: No thanks

Lonesome

God is with me. That is a comforting thought. Comforting thoughts are thoughts designed with the intent of comforting someone who lacks comfort. Those of us who lack comfort need reassurance. The reassurance is intended to bolster our confidence, push us on through to the next day. One more down. One less to go until I see him. Why do I need this assurance? Why do I constantly need to be reminded of His invisible, inaudible, intangible presence? Because I am human. I am alone. I am lonely and lack faith. He gives faith. I have just enough to make it. Never more, never less. Ok. Sometimes less.

Loneliness is maddening. It is truth. It is harsh, unforgiving reality. The thread of hope that God is near is sometimes like covering up the harshest winter chill with a napkin. It's a nice thought, but it doesn't make the bed warmer. Loneliness beckons the flesh. Warm up! Nourish yourself. Crawl back into the womb and forget that you're alive. Remember the warmth of your mother's belly? Remember and regret, for you will never feel that true warmth again. In brief moments, in the arms of your lover, you may remember those days of old. When life was all consumption. when life was innocent.

So the flesh calls. Consume her! Embrace her! It calls because it reminds you of when life was good. Remember that brief moment in life when it was awesome. Before you entered the world. Warmth. Consumption. Nothing was ever easier than that. You didn't even have to breathe. No aches. No chills. No loneliness.

Thinking about loneliness makes me think about love. It makes me think about what I used to call love. I now realize that my first marriage choice was all about my fear of loneliness. What a bad way to make a decision. I cloaked it in religion, spritiual glamor, and zeal. I was lonely. I wanted to crawl back into my mother's womb. The call of the flesh and its pleasures was so powerful that I married her so that my lust would be justified. I would say the same for her. And when we both realized it, we found we were too late. My life would have been so much easier if I had just committed adultery with her and gotten it out of my system.

But I made my bed. Now I lay in it. Alone. Cold. Lonesome. So lonesome I could die.
So lonesome. Now the flesh calls me again. Now I hear it's empty pleas.

I scroll through my cell phone looking for someone to call, so I dont have to hear the silence. I hang out with my friends long enough so that I can get so exhausted that I'm too tired to think about how lonely I am. When I get off the phone with you, I look for someone else to call to keep the reality of my solitude at bay. I watch Tv. I listen to my radio. I download 1000 songs. I know them all. I learn the words and sing them loud and cry alone. I call out to God. The cries echo in my room, reverberating in my ears reminding me how desperate and alone I really am. God hears. He answers prayer, but not soon enough to satisfy me now. This loneliness is to teach me something. Is that supposed to give me hope? After all that I've learned? Knowledge is no comfort! It is a chasing after the wind. The more I know, the more I am aware of how thorougly miserable I am. Peace.

Just a sidenote: I wrote this whole blog while listening to songs from The Cure while wearing white face make-up and my hair in an Edward Scissorhands style.

Stirring the Pot

I mean really. If we are going to have arguments over foolish things, why mask the foolishness with idealism? Why not let the foolishness really be really really foolish? Like Republican Party Foolishness. I think the only platform I am in agreement with the Republican Party with is the abortion issue. And I know for a fact it isn't because they really care. They really just want the Christian majority vote. Bloodsuckers! I hate their stance on the environment. I hate their stance on race issues. I hate their stance on 90% of their domestic issues. I think also agree with their stance vs. unions. But not because I am a big proponent of big business. I am more a proponent of the middle class. And Unions have destroyed the middle class. They have driven up wages in America to such ridiculous high that businesses can't really afford to stay in America. So when businesses move to Mexico, the democrats freak out saying we lost all these US jobs, when really the unions drove the businesses out of the US. Gay Marriage? I guess living in a free country, I feel I have to accept the morality of the marjority as legal, even if I personally disagree with it. I'll vote against it, but if the country upholds it, then I'll support it. I would be naive to assume that we live in a Christian Society. And it would be absurd for me to compare Gay Marriage to Abortion or Murder as some Christians would have me do. They are not remotely the same thing. I am not saying that homosexuality is not a sin. I am not saying I endorse homosexuality in any form. What I am saying is that God's rage is God's. I know these people are not gay because they want to be. They just are. I would have to say before you argue with me, try to really get to know some gay people. Really know them. Not in the Biblical sense because that would be entirely too ironic. Try accepting the fact that you are a sinner. A really bad one. And try to accept the fact that the sins you can't stop committing (and you know what they are) are all as condemning as the sins they commit. Now, for me, I can't stop stirring the pot. I really get off on pissing off Christian pseudo-intellectuals. I know they want to argue. I found their weakness. Their sin. Argumentativeness is a sin. Yup. For some reason, though, Christians justify it in a million different ways. DEFENDING THE TRUTH!!! Please! IRON SHARPENING THE IRON!! Whatever. Am I proposing that we go on sinning in order that gracd may abound? Not really. But telling someone to stop being what they are is not as easy as it sounds. Telling someone that is gay that they are wrong for being gay is (in their minds) telling them to stop being. (period). That would be completely devoid of compassion. Extracting that way of thinking requires patience. Not 1o minute patience. Not 10 week patience. Not 10 year patience. Do you remember the difficulty Steve Martin had facing the fact that he wasn't black in "The Jerk"? Has anyone seen "Malibu's Most Wanted"? B-Rad thought he was really a hip hop prodigy. He was so convinced he was willing to die for it. Everyone around him could see he clearly wasn't but it didnt stop him from pursuing it because of what he believed about himself. Saying homosexuals are repulsive or disgusting is trite. Its the highest form of arrogance. It's everything that is wrong with the church. It maintains that somehow whatever you are or whatever you are doing is better than what they are. As if you are what you are by your own merit, and they are what they are by their shortcomings. Grace plays no part in who you are or where you came from. You use yourself as the litmus for what is acceptable or not. "I had a hard life and I'm not gay" implies "therefore, I'm better". Or, "they have a choice" implies that you chose your life situation just as clearly as they did. And for some reason you chose to be an asshole instead of a homosexual. I have to tell you: that must have been a tough choice for you. Clearly you chose the "lesser of two evils" (tongue placed securely in cheek). As I said before, I am not endorsing homosexuality or assholishness as acceptable lifestyles. We are what we are. Grace saves us. Not repentance. We cant repent for all our sins. If we could we would. We cant even begin to name all our sins let alone repent of them. I hear people say to me, "Brandon, but you can't be a Christian and go on sinning". I maintain that if that were true, then there would be no Christians. The argument that others glorify their sin or put it on display clearly shows that they are not Christian is equally as insubstantial. It doesnt hold water. You find that what most Christians preach about or against is a result of their own struggle with sin. The people who are most staunchly against abortions are people who've had abortions. The people who preach the strongest about sexual immorality have the darkest loneliest struggles with sexual immorality. People who talk about greed want more than anyone. The people who talk about faith are the weakest. The people who talk about gentleness are brutal. It goes on and on and Im tired of the pretense. We can't do it guys! We just can't maintain this image of perfection for the public to see. Would someone please admit that when they go to the mall they are in a state of constant erection because the girls wear next to nothing (and you like it!) Would someone please admit that they like it? Please admit that you really hate it when people cut you off. You like how angry you get. You feel guilty because you took such exciting pleasure in pounding your steering wheel with rage. You wanted them to hear your curses. You did! I am so glad I have Jesus. He knows how much I like sinning. He knows how easy it is. He knows the guilt I feel because the sins of the flesh are so exciting. Not just fun, but riveting. Not just fun but thrilling. I wish a Christian (besides me) had the nerve to talk about that kind of thrill without masking it and bathing it in repentance. We only admit it when we're repentant. How cowardly is that? Thats like having a conscience in retrospect. Would someone stand up and admit that they like a little alcoholic buzz? Guilt has it's place. Guilt is awesome. it Teaches. It sharpens us. Would someone please admit that they aren't really better now than they were when they were living in sin? The only difference is the difference God made. Not your difference. That the only difference is the amount of work the Holy Spirit has done in you, not the amount of time and energy you put into the Holy Spirit? Sanctification is God's work, not yours. It's your job to give glory. real glory. not pretend and get your ministry paycheck glory. I know I get in more trouble for burning bridges than anyone I know. I know I get railed because I say unpopular things. Even wrong things. I am a weak broken man. I lie all the time. All the time. I keep catching myself saying things I don't mean. I keep catching myself painting a picture for people to see. I suck! But you know what? The more I say in the realm of truth, the more free I get. Maybe I have more lies to dig out of than the rest of you. I don't know. I am not better than you. But dont' be too quick to agree with me.

Something Tom said in his blog tickled my writer's fancy. He was mentioning how excited he gets when he hears Christian artists on secular radio. That used to excite me, too. Only I got so into it that I found out that lots of Christian people are already on the radio. Even if I don't agree with their lifestyles or choices of vocabulary, they claim to be followers of JC, and so it became fascinating for me to do the research. Eventually, my favorite artists were artists whose music was "touched" by the HS and it ministered to me in a new way that Christian music never had before. I was listening to artists whose intention was to make music, and when the subject of God or Christ came up, it wasn't because they were trying to convert people with their songs, and it wasn't music for sale with the intent of uniting believers in worship (a concept that still really bothers me). The songs were just actual thoughts of how God relates to them. You see humanity's hunger for God in in all sorts of shapes and sizes. People who ask the honest questions about God. Artists who explore other perspectives than those held by Sparrow Music or Forefront Records. You'd find artists who are artists for the sake art who happen to be believers. They say weird things. Not churchy things. Not always good things. Always honest things. Always challenging things for the complacent believer to hear.
So here is my listening list for the believers who rock, and actually make decent art to boot.
U2, Switchfoot, Lifehouse, Dashboard Confessional, Lenny Kravitz, MXPX, Blink 182 (seriously), Jimmy Eat World, The Juliana Theory, Chevelle, Sixpence None The Richer, R. Kelly, Mary J. Blige, 12 Stones, Creed, Alter Bridge, Evanescence, P.O.D., Accedental Experiment, ZWAN, Billy Corgan (again, seriously), Unwritten Law, Alice Cooper, Johnny Cash, Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean (therefore, the Fugees) King's X, M.C. Hammer, Mario Winans, Mase, DMX, and others. I'm looking forward to hearing the new group, Big Dismal from Wind-up Records, the label that produces Creed, Alter Bridge, Evanescence, and Scott Stapp (of Creed). Kid Rock was recently interviewed in Rolling Stone and stated that he was looking for a church that he and his son could attend in the Detroit Area near his new home. What do you do with that? I don't know really. Is the music necessarily "Christian"? Not really. But it is valuable. It is useful. And it is art. It is pure expression. Credit for that.

Philosophical Masturbation

I gotta be honest with you guys. My ego really gets off on blogging. I know I'm not the only one. I'm not talking about anything perverted (but if you want to that's ok, I'll not judge you for it). I just think this is like the next best thing to sitting around in a dorm room and tossing around the bullshit. It's been a really long time since I've heard such carefully crafted nonsense. I mean no disrespect. In fact, it's a compliment. I thought I was clever. I am but now i know I'm not the only one.

But one thing would get my intellectual jollies jollier. What kind of perfect world would we live in if Mark Christian had a blog? That would make me happier than Flammer in a room full of action hero toys. Happier than Soullierre in a room full of code. Happier than Russell at a Benny Hinn convention. Happier than Vitz in a room full of Parapalegic Strippers.

Could someone talk to him? Does he already have one?

I know Black People.

David Chappelle has a hillarious show on Comedy Central. It pushes the envelope, scathing everyone they talk about. Pounding on the egg shells of racial issues week after week. I love it because it exploits all of the cultural taboos that we have regarding race issues. One week someone told Dave that the show was offensive to black people (mostly because of his habit of over-using the word "nigger"). His problem with the comment is that it was made by a white person. So he set up a game show called "I know black people" cuz some people just know. Working near Detroit, in a mall in the large company that i work for, I've made some good friends who are black (and I'm pretty sure they like being called black rather than African American for the time being). Now I'm the white guy who says, "I'm not racist. Some of my best friends are black." Beiing the white boy I am from Sticksville the only real contact with black people I had was in my brief period at Pizza Hut and my next door neighbors in college who were escorted off the school premises.
Being the total nerd that I am, viewing myself as some sort of ambassador to black culture, I have been reading books and watching movies exploring black culture and history. I'm like a regular Marco Polo (only he was Italian, went to China, and stole all kinds of merchandise). Recently my friend, Iesha, asked me to make a cd for her with some songs by artists I had barely heard of (but i had by this point after talking to a few of my other friends). Artists like R. Kelly (the child molester videographer). It also turns out he's a Christian. What do you do with that? I guess he is another brother with issues.
Why did it take finding out he's a Christian for me to have compassion for him? A blog for another day.
Anyway R. Kelly, Mary J. Blige, Erykah Badu, Floetry, D'Angelo, Beyonce, Kina, Alicia Keys, (I swear it sounds like im speaking a foreign language when I say those names). Anyway I made the CD and found myself liking it. (shh-dont tell. someone might find out). I was driving over here this morning and was listening to the R. Kelly Song, "You Saved Me" and broke down. Russell, if you are reading find that song. You'll love it. It reminded me of you.
It's funny how God will find you sometimes. Another blog subject altogether.
Back to Black people. I feel like most of my beliefs about "those people" were myths (as cultured and educated as I was). I recommend the movie Antwone Fisher. My black friends make fun of me because of how white I am and that's fine. I think they like me because I dont pretend to be black or know black things. I'm just me. And still friends. My friend, Brian, calls himself "Token" at work, like the kid from "south park", because he's our token black friend, like a show on the WB. Anyway. Just thought I'd share something a little lighter (or darker?)

And now for something completely different...

Ok stop.
Stop what you are doing. Stop blogging. Its turning into a fiasco. Its like slow chatting. Email is easier and less publically humiliating. By publically humiliating I mean, less likely to embarrass yourself one year from now if you reread what you wrote today. I mean less likely to sound like a cross between Jerry Falwell and Gomer Pyle. Less likely to sound like a spokesperson for the Hillsboro Family Camp. Less likely to sound like a whiney assed fired minister (me- imagine that- fired. Usuallyy ministers only get fired for sins like cheating or molesting, or ineffective work. I was fired because I was lousy at my job.) I like blogging for the same reason i like chatting and email. It gives you courage to say the things in public you normally would have the balls to say to someone's face. It makes the judgmental more judgmental. It makes the liberal more liberal. It makes the incoherent even more unchoherincibileness. It makes Tom look like a genius. It makes me want to know Regen, Ben, Bob, and Russell Better. No matter how flippin weird you all sound sometimes. It makes me want to give the real church the benefit of the doubt. I now believe that the treatment i received, albeit common among many, need not be the final litmus for all church experiences. I realize that for many the church has been a haven of hope and rest and community. Just because I havent seen it, doesnt mean it doesnt exist, no matter how many ignorant fools try to convince me otherwise by writing preachy blogs to other christians in the false name of exhortation. Its not exhortation. Its argument. Its not encouragement. Its belittlement. Its not Biblical or loving or even correct. Sometimes I assume people know better. I can't assume that everyone had the same education that I did. Something I do know. Passion and conviction mean nothing when your information is incorrect. Truth is truth. Not necessarily the truth you believe is the truth. Sometimes the truth is more true than the truth you believe to be true. Usually it is. Being fallen (that would be all of us), casting judgments on a brother for making an exhortation (serve others...feeed my sheep, etc.) is among the most stupid things I can possibly think of. Now. That is judgment. IF anyone knows how to judge, its me. I am the best damn judge in this blog sport. I can point out stupid anywhere. Do not argue with me. That is stupid. There is another judgment. Do not use scripture to refute me. It will do you no good. Gods Word when used incorrectly cannot harm me, even if it is Gods word. You use it incorrectly, and it has no power. Doy. or no doy. that is the question.

If i offended you that's ok. You'll get over it. God loves you and the words I say cannot harm you. You have a Spiritual Hedge of Protection (God likes to use firey shrubbery in defensive issues, its more Mosaic).

Tattered.

Look at that word, tattered. It's a very descriptive word. You hear it, and you see wear and tear. You see weatherstains and mold. Tattered. It's a word used to describe a jacket that's been worn for too long. It's the backpack that you refused to retire four years too late. It's Brett Favre's tired career. It's a word we like to use of things that are no longer useful. It's a word we use for things that are so completely over-used beyond their expected time and abilities. It's not a word we like to think of in relationship to ourselves. When something is tattered, we change it. When something is tattered, we throw it away. With that out of the way, a friend of mine who doesn't mince words or sugarcoat truths told me, "Brandon, you're so tattered." in the context of the surprising (albeit sometimes shocking to the innocent and naive) things that come out of my mouth. He was speaking in reference to some of the brasher truths I had revealed to him about faith, the ministry, and the church. He asked me if I thought it was dangerous to be so care-free. For, to him, the things I say and said to him were deep, profound, terrifying and not-so-happy-go-lucky. He believed I should have said them with more seriousness, gravity, and care for the response of the listener. I flatly (and maybe this was the point he was getting at) told him that after everything I've seen and experienced (and, mind you, I'm not even quite thirty yet, so i have lots more to see and do hopefully) do not fear the things I used to fear. Almost every one of my deepest darkest fears have come true. What I feared when I was 23 has come true. So I went through it. I no longer fear that occuring because it already has. My wife left me. (ouch). My brother Jason died (big ouch). I was derailed in my ministry because of my family problems (an ouch I can live with). My brother (the dead one) was bisexual, and people found out (at the time it was a big ouch). My wife started dating other people (ouch). My son has a congenital and uncurable illness (ouch). My mom and dad nearly divorced over unfaithfulness (ouch). My mom got cancer (ouch). Now most Christians don't know how to talk to me anymore (again ouch). You go through this. I am not afraid of these things happening to me anymore. I've been through it and survived. So I guess that maybe has hardened me a little. I don't think too much. If anything, I feel what others are going through even more than I used to, because now I KNOW. I relive those feelings when I hear of other people experiencing them. But I am not in a place yet where I feel that being trepid or cautious about my feelings or how I express them matters much. If anything I've lost my patience for people who pussyfoot around issues. I lost my patience for people who hint at truth or allude to it, or manipulate it. You thought I was weird before. Ask Tom Flammer. The dude would tell you I'm so angry and jaded (or tattered even - no it wasn't him to called me that). I don't think I really am that angry. I AM impatient. I AM intolerant of facetiousness. I am intolerant of ignorance, naivite, and the inexperienced. I am intolerant of people who deny their experiences because they don't line up with what they were told about Scripture. I'll tell you something. My experience did not change the Word of God. But, my experience has changed how I understand it. I am in a bind. I do not relate well to the Christians who are older than me. Even though they are experienced, they do not (for the most part) interpret their experiences the same way. In real life, I find that younger people (mostly people younger than me) appreciate my perspective better than most other groups of people. However, most of the younger set are so naive and inexperienced that I find that most of what I say can be chalked up to entertainment value because the stories keep them gripped, at the edges of their seats, but don't really mean a whole lot to them, and many times, discourage them from trying things that need to be tried because of their fears of failing like I did. So, enough about me. How are you doing?

In the famous words of Staind, it's been a while. At any rate I'm back, at least for the present. Do I have social commentary? Yes. I think I am getting to the place where I just wish there were people in the church I could relate to.  In the words of Bono, "Yeah, I'd break bread and wine if there was a church I could receive in, 'cos i need it now." I feel that my circumstances have pushed me further and further away from the church. Not from God, but from the people who follow him. I am not like them anymore.  I love the same God and serve the same world. I just can't force myself through the same motions. I can't force the Godspeak language out. I can't muster the energy to sit through a committee meeting. I can't find meaning in manufactured and contrived worship services. I can't stomach the politics. I can't swallow the judgments. I can't absorb the expected excitement. I walk through the door, take a seat and listen to words that seem to bounce right off my chest. I know what it is to be broken. Truly broken. The churches I have been in have never been a safe place to be broken. The church is for fixed people, or at least people pretending to be fixed enough to be able to serve. People in service can't be broken. They have to be above reproach. Which means, they have to be better than other people at hiding their faults.  Faults make you unfit to serve. Even if the faults are beyond your control. That is too bad. Because I have lots to offer. I have training, talents, abilities and desire. But I don't have a perfect family life. My wife left me. Imin the divorce process, and my dream of being a minister is pretty much shattered. I just need a little hope offered. I don't have the strength to hope on my own. I just need someone to believe in me. Give me another chance. Then i could believe in a church of grace. But in 4 years of rejection and disgrace, I have yet to experience that. So I am cynical. I try. I really do. One person cannot carry all of this and still be expected to maintain that innocence. Reality forces its' way into recognition. And I am here.

SAVED

I recently went and watched the movie, "Saved" starring Mandy Moore and Macauley Culkin. Wow. I was really impressed with the accuracy the depictions of Christian teenagers in America, and the Christian sub-cultures that they exist in. Many, many Christians will be shocked, insulted, outraged. That, in fact, is exactly what needs to happen. The outraged, insulted, angry viewers of this movie need to really examine what the movie is about. Those who are quick to judge, cast the first stone, will miss what this movie is really about and will miss some valuable lessons. First of all, the main point of the movie is about the impossible standards of righteousness that the church and many christians impose upon its believers. It shows how good we are at making rules, how good we are at masking our obedience to those rules, and how meagerly we do at achieving success in our righteousness. It shows some of the ridiculous things Christians do to make their faith more appealing to non-believers. What i think i really liked is how, in the end, Grace saves the day, lifts the fallen people out of the ashes and breathes refreshing life into the situations that they are in. All of the paradigms shift when grace moves. This movie is not for the feint-of-heart. It is not for spiritual weaklings. You have to boldy examine who you are, the church you belong to, and be ready to laugh at how ridiculous some of the things we do really are. The point of most comedy is to exploit problems with tongue-in-cheek. I believe the writers of this movie had to be christians, or it would not have made any sense. Again. Look close. At you.

Ode to a Cell Phone

I recently got a new cell phone. I haven't had one in a year and I'm pretty excited. On one hand, it was nice not being able to be reached at any second. I like my privacy. On the other hand, I missed a lot of connections and chances to speak with friends on the go. I really missed that. In honor of this momentous event in my life i give you this. WROTE A SONG 'BOUT IT. HE IT GO!

(chorus)
My cell phone is better than yours
Has a cure for AIDS and it ends all wars
Jam it in my ear or smash against my head
My cell phone's even really good in bed....

1. It has all these buttons that you can press
And all these functions that should impress you
It always works Never ever fails
Got a super network that never bails

(chorus)
My cell phone is better than yours
Has a cure for AIDS and it ends all wars
Jam it in my ear or smash against my head
My cell phone's even really good in bed....

2. My service plan is really really great
No overages or bad roaming rates
At home the movies or at the bar...
Insured for damage done by my car...(cuz i cant drive and talk at the same time)

(chorus)
My cell phone is better than yours
Has a cure for AIDS and it ends all wars
Jam it in my ear or smash against my head
My cell phone's even really good in bed....

3. So please dont get very mad at me
but if you are I'll message my apology
On sincere behalf of my cell phone and me,
(after 9 or weekends, cuz they're always free)
(bridge)
I wont ever talk to you face to face
My cell phone it saves me from the human race

(tag)
My cell phone is better than you
My cell phone is better than you
My cell phone is better than you
My cell phone is better than you

I know its corny. hahaha.

Something About Weddings

Last night I went to a wedding. It was the first wedding I had been to in a very long time. It brought to mind my wedding, the failure of my marriage and the wedding ceremonies I myself had the wicked pleasure of facilitating. The ceremony was simple, beautiful and remarkable. These two people were really in love. I, in my cuurrent state, was cynical and unmoved (really, me, cynical and unmoved--go figure). The reception was different. Again the bride and groom kissing and carrying on. Loved ones speaking up and saying lovelies for the guests to hear. When they asked if anyone else had anything to say I almost stood up and said "I'm drunk, I wet my pants, and my marriage went down in flames." But I caught myself. This wedding reminded me more than anything about how much pain I was in. I never had so much fun being so miserable. The company was incredible. I have never danced in my life, but i found myself (I was sober the drunk joke was just a joke) dancing with some beautiful women and just enjoying my moment. At one point I was dancing with two beautiful women at once (talk about fantasy island). So much of my life is coming to a head. It will result in great success or massive failure. I still cant get Jason's death out of my head. I cant escape it. It's everywhere. I wonder if I will ever outrun my grief. The loss of my brother is the worst event of my life. I will miss my marriage, but i will never feel it the way i do about my lost brother. I think dancing reminded me of Jason. I could feel him. I could imagine him there and how much fun he would have been. God, I miss him so much.

Memorial Day

Do you remember when the Memorial Day Parade was cool? You were probably like six or seven years old. You thought fire trucks were cool, and old men with fake rifles were awesome. You got excited about the senior citizens on goofy cars with funny fez hats and thought they were entertaining. You thought beating up 3 and 4 year olds for candy thrown on the ground was a healthy passtime. At this time of year so much is said about remembering the soldiers (and now its trendy to remember policemen and firemen) who gave their lives in service to our country. So i, in my true blog form, will completely ignore that and try to remember something else. Remember Pirate's Cove? It was an awesome pic-a-path text game for the commodore 64. You had put the cartridge in and then type a ton of text lines to ever get the graphics or sound to work. Then it would ask you questions and you had to answer them. You had to PICK YOUR PATH. Man, that was awesome. You would wait 2 or three minutes for each question to load after it gave you several lines of story to read. You would read and read and read. After reading, you had to PICK YOUR PATH. That was awesome. So on this Memorial Day, try not to only think of dead servicemen. Remember pic-a-path text games too. Because they were cool.

Day 2

When i ramble i generally come up with something good to say. So today like any other day i will start with the random thoughts that pop into my head....Still waiting..... almost had something... Hang with me a sec... i can feel something good coming.... Ok. I know what I'll do. I will post some lyrics from a song or two that i have been writing for my up and probably never coming band. Its something at least

Dream Cut Short

Blissful dream sands are all blown away
Conscioiusness burns out a new day
Almost Almost Almost there
Forget my dreams and walk downstairs

Dream...
Cut short, it has no conclusion
Dream...
Go back to sleep and live your illusion

Blissful life sands are all blown away
Enlightenment burns out a new way
Almost Almost Almost there
My life my dreams and vacant blank stares

Dream...
Cut short, it has no conclusion
Dream...
Go back to sleep and live your illusion

A So-So Gangsta

I bet you were bad in a former life
back not satisfied with bein white
so you throw on your baggy jeans
and jump around when House of Pain sings

Well not really cuz they arent really rap
cuz to rap for real you gotta be black
not only that, your life had to be bad
a druggy mom and an asshole dad

You're so, A so, A so-so gangsta
So-so-so-so-so gangsta
You're so, A so-so gangsta
So-so-so-so-so gangsta

Who's got the time to write a song?
Write a song you can sing along to?
Not you, cuz you're too bizzy
Gotta Sell and smoke weed and say fo-shizzy

Congratulations yes you've managed to escape
the quiet life to which you cant relate
People are People do you see the irony?
They are real and you wish you werent me.

You're so, A so, a so-so gangsta
So-so-so-so-so gangsta
You're so,, a so-so gangsta
So-so-so-so-so gangsta

Hard times, sounds cool but it aint you
Thuggin is for gangstas, whats that a tattoo
Of Murder Inc. on your Irish shoulder?
Was life so bad you're ashamed of your culture?

So boring had to steal your experience?
Sprayin signs on moms white picket fence?
You're so lost you dont know where you're at
so-s0-s0. i just wanted to say that.

The Hand Of God

Im just sittin there, ok..
Sippin my triple shot latte
At the coffee shop in Detroit USA

And i'm feelin pretty good
And i'm feelin pretty cool
Till this bearded dude stands up upon a stool

and he screams
"I am...I am...I am The Hand of God"
"I am...I am...I am The Hand of God"

So I'm sittin there, ok...
Pissin my triple shot latte
I've got nothin clever left to say

I assume he's got a gun
and he reaches in his bag
Guess I'm gonna die in Detroit here today

And he screams
"I am...I am...I am The Hand of God"
"I am...I am...I am The Hand of God"

But the coffee girl
Steps out from the counter
she points to the door
and says even louder....

"Not in here, Not in here Not in here, You're not!"
"Not in here, Not in here Not in here, You're not!"

And she threw his ass out.

Day One

12:01 AM on Saturday May 29.

I dont really know or care much for internet fads. Blogging is possibly just a fad. So I'm turning over a new leaf. From this day forward, I will become the man you expected, the next internet blogger. And in so doing I will also partake of my share of other internet fads that I have neglected to take part in. I think I'll get my own website. I will take surveys. I will answer solicitor emails. I will apply for credit cards. I will download file-sharing software and not pay for the songs i steal. I will send in my pictures and pictures of my kids for "contests" that i stand a chance of winning. I will put my resume on monster.com. I will buy my movie tickets at movietickets.com and then stand in line to collect them (because that just makes sense). I will hunt down that great find on ebay, only to renig on my bid. I will learn the names and hobbies of all the hot wet asian teen lesbians that send me emails (its courteous). I will master the art of getting rich in real estate, save hundreds on my car insurance, and buy a used copy of a worship cd. (Worship cd's for sale is another blog topic altogether). What the hell is a Worship album of the Year? I think its hillarious that people get rich selling worship albums. Tell me that isnt comedy. I'm gonna market my prayers. Publish them and sell them as "poetic" readings in prose. Suggest people read them and model their prayers after mine. Maybe I'll win the Dove award for Prayer of the Year. I will travel and sell tickets, promoting my cd's of me praying live in concert. And people will say, man that boy can pray! I'd pay good money to listen to him pray. I would perfect my technique to the point that no one would quite be able to say AMEN the way that i do. People will try to imitate it, but it will be a thing of perfection. Every time authentic, passionate, and heartfelt. Calculated you say? Absolutely. Just like a Worship album of the Year.