Vertigo

Oh, man. Whoa, hold on! My head's spinning.

I've just heard the new track from U2's upcoming album on the world-famous KROQ.

My wife and I were in Hollywood at the Kodak Theatre (home of the Oscars). We had scored free tickets to see The Ten Commandments musical with Val Kilmer as Moses. (I know, that seemed a little far-fetched to me, too. But he did voice Moses in 1998's Prince of Egypt. Besides, enough people bought him as Batman, I guess we could stretch a little further for Moses!) The show was actually a stunning re-interpretation of the story. Much was adapted for the modern audience, but no harm was done to the overall theme of redemption, deliverance, and an overwhelming sense of the divine urging in the lives of those that God has called out. Enough, this is not a theatre review.

Back to the point. We were on the 101, and I flipped over to K-Rock, and, behold...a blessing to the ears. At first I thought it sounded a bit like a fusion of Depeche Mode and Jet. I could totally see Apple using this song on an iPod commercial. Then, it began to dawn on me...this voice sounded vaguely familiar. When it finally hit me, I turned it full blast and let the music invade.

They're back. And soon a new volume will be added to the Canon. Head to iTunes now and download the first chapter.

Oh, the Acrobat is truly happy, folks. I'm doing backflips.

Quote du Jour

"Uhm, it's the quote of the day."
"Mmm, that sounds good. I'll have that."

From the transcript of today's press conference at the White House, this quote by the president:

"I'm not the expert on how the Iraqi people think, because I live in America, where it's nice and safe and secure."

They Made a Desert

Well, once again, the President had the opportunity to pull support from nations he had previously dissed. And once again, he made us all look like the playground bully: just pushing the smaller kids around because he could. Headline after headline repeats the theme of missed opportunity. Only Mr. Bush could make Iraq look so good and make Saddam actually look like a victim. (We must remember, after all, that Saddam was practically placed in power, hand-picked, by the US.)

A few select words from UN General Secretary Kofi Annan:

Those who seek to bestow legitimacy must themselves embody it, and those who invoke international law must themselves submit to it.

In Iraq, we see civilians massacred in cold blood while relief workers, journalists and other non-combatants are taken hostage and put to death in the most barbarous fashion.

At the same time, we have seen Iraqi prisoners disgracefully abused.

And still fully half of the nation's voters would want this man (the subject of these comments) to continue running our nation? This delusionist cum illusionist who continues to think that everything is going well and that it's the rest of the world that's screwed up for refusing to help us?

Christians who support this man willingly support his war. They must live with the consequences and will answer to God for their refusal to seek biblical reconciliatory measures.

I will close this post with a somber quote from a speech by Bobby Kennedy delivered 2 days after announcing his candidacy for the Democratic nomination for President, 2 weeks before Martin Luther King's assassination, and just 3 months before his own.

The front pages of our newspapers show photographs of American soldiers torturing prisoners. Every night we watch horror on the evening news. Violence spreads inexorably across the nation, filling our streets and crippling our lives. And whatever the costs to us, let us think of the young men we have sent there: not just the killed, but those who have to kill; not just the maimed, but also those who must look upon the results of what they do.

It is becoming more evident with every passing day that the victories we achieve will only come at the cost of destruction for the nation we once hoped to help. Even before this winter, Vietnam and its people were disintegrating under the blows of war. Now hardly a city in Vietnam has been spared from the new ravages of the past two months.

We are entitled to ask -- we are required to ask -- how many more men, how many more lives, how much more destruction will be asked, to provide the military victory that is always just around the corner...?

I am concerned that, at the end of it all, there will only be more Americans killed; more of our treasure spilled out; and because of the bitterness and hatred on every side of this war, more hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese slaughtered; so that they may say, as Tacitus said of Rome: "They made a desert, and called it peace."

We turn off our brains and check our morals at the door. We surf the web and watch Flash-based cartoons. We go to work and come home to watch the war on Fox News. The clock ticks. Meanwhile, on the other side of our precious interstellar island, the blood of thousands drips from our fingertips.

As RFK also quoted from Antigone, "All men make mistakes, but a good man yields when he knows his course is wrong, and repairs the evil. The only sin is pride."

I Knew It!

I just knew it. Deep down inside. Apparently I wasn't alone in noticing the resemblance, but it's been so long ago. And we were all so young!

He's back!

No WMDs? Ya' Think?

What I'm having trouble with is understanding why (and, of course, I have several hypotheses) people still believe the president. Not that I'm believing everything coming from the other side, either. It's all a hype-machine. Everything that happens can be spun to fit the view or whim of any political viewpoint. But every time I hear news of the events in Iraq, I just don't understand why American's ever believed it was the right thing to do. Bush clearly wanted the war so badly, he would fabricate (or at least manipulate) any data about Iraq's WMD "program" necessary to make believers out of us. The rest of the world didn't by the BS. They saw it for what it was: a preening cock, kicking his feet in the dust; a show. Then, when they tried to tell us to wait, when some of our most important allies tried to block us from invading a sovereign state, we made jokes. We laughed about supersizing our "Freedom Fries" to fatten our already bloated egos while our men and women in camo left home to do their duty (God save them all, and bring them home soon).

I felt like it wasn't right from the start. Something about a "pre-emptive strike" just didn't sit well with me. Now I know why. I wasn't right, in an ethical sense, in a patriotic sense, nor especially in a Christian context. I've discussed this with many Christian friends, but most of their arguments come out sounding as if America has some sort of manifest destiny in the world (they probably believe that America is one of the players in the Apocalypse scenario) and/or that somehow Democracy is the "right" kind of government. Therefore, to impose democracy on everyone in the world is a good thing (or as Bush phrases it, "bringing democracy to them." Like it's some kind of gift.) We know nothing of these people, we know nothing of what they want.

This attack, this war, and it's ensuing occupation (which, if we remember, Bush promised us would not happen) are unjust in any sense. Especially the sense of Christian ethics (blessed are the warmongers? ...hmm, doesn't really flow!).

So, the latest is this. Surprise, surprise, the new American weapons inspector, Charles Duelfer, has returned with the same conclusions as the first American weapons inspector, David Kay. What I wonder is, how many inspectors does it take to (screw in a lightbulb) convince us that using the national defense for offensive purposes was wrong by any measure, regardless of spin.

Superman, Spiderman, Batman. These are why we still love Mr. Bush. His cabinet, and his "homeland security" secretary, continue to impress upon us how dangerous this world is. Orange alerts, yellow alerts. We've never been at green. I doubt seriously if we've been at green at any point in the history of our country. Democracy is a fragile, human thing. But our government wants to keep us paranoid. Keep us afraid. But more importantly keep us thinking that only they can protect us. Anyone else is inadequate. Mindlessly we put our trust in them while they continue to fight us further into a war that has little to do with terrorism (which they can't protect us from, either) and spend us further into debt. But they make us feel safe. Even if we're really no safer now than ever before. They are the blanket to which we clung in the middle of the night. The same blanket we laughed about later when we realized that if there really were monsters in the closet (and there are!) that eighth-inch thick layer of cotton/poly blend wasn't going to stop them.

Meanwhile, Bush/Cheney continue ask other countries for help funding a war that they tried to tell us was a bad idea to begin with. What if I asked my dad to buy me a car? He says, "No, your too irresponsible, you're a bad driver. I won't buy you a car." You think your dad is irrational. You think he's just being impertinent and capricious. He doesn't know you, he doesn't understand your driving record. So, you save up and buy a car for yourself. In a matter of months (shortly after declaring yourself the best driver in the world) you have managed to completely total your car. Why, at this point, would your dad help you pay for the damages? I think I can understand the indignance of the likes of France, Russia, et al.

I just don't understand why so many Christians have aligned themselves with him. Why were we so quick to cry "impeachment" when Clinton lied under oath, but no one got killed? Meanwhile, the human death toll in Bush's war exceeds 11,000. That's 1,000 American servicemen and women, and over 10,000 Iraqi civilians (sorry, we call them "insurgents," that helps us see them as "bad" and denies the fact that they're just trying to protect their country from foreign invaders). What if China decided they wanted to liberate us from democracy and "bring communism to America!" Would we be dissidents, insurgents, or would we call ourselves Freedom Fighters? Would we expect other countries to come to the aid of China, or would we then turn to the UN to help stabilize our country?

It's really not that different.

How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb

For so long, the light at the end of the tunnel has remained the same size, as if it was merely moving away from us at the same speed. On the back of a flatbed truck, just over the horizon, just enough to see a faint half-halo.

For so long we've lingered in this twilight, partially illuminated by the halo ahead. Always hoping to draw closer. Hoping that something good was happening up there, but never able to move fast enough to catch a glimpse.

For so long we've had to bask internally on the past. Glowing, sometimes dimly, sometimes more brightly, from the old experiences. Keeping them fresh by fanning the coals in our hearts.

For so long, something good was happening there, just over the edge of the horizon. It's what has kept us fanning those embers. And running hard to stay close.

But now it seems that light at the end of the tunnel seems to be drawing ever closer. And as it does, we can see that surely, something truly great was happening up there.

We are close enough to see it's licence plate. The renewal date: November 23rd. The plate reads: Vertigo. The powertrain: An Atomic Bomb. The vehicle: U2.

That's right, kids, the 4-year dry spell is almost over. This Acrobat is perfectly giddy inside. The ground is softer, the grass is greener, the sky is bluer. (blue-er?, more blue?) U2 have a release date, an album title, and a first single. The single, Vertigo, should start getting airplay in the next few weeks, and it will be available on CD on the 8th of November. According to the official U2 website , Bono is considering this their "first rock-n-roll album."

Early reports from friends close to the band indicate that this collection of songs may very well be their best yet. I'm sure that such claims will be born out as the music spreads to the masses. For over a year and a half Bono has been conspicuously quiet (if not at times frustratingly silent) on the attack on Iraq (sorry, the "Liberation of Iraq") and the war on terrorism, focusing his energies instead on trying to draw the US and other developed nations into the decidedly more just war on AIDS in Africa (check out the Data.org website for loads of useful action to get involved in). Let's hope these experiences, as well as his low profile on the war, have been funnelled and channeled into some amazing new music.

For so long, U2 has been a flint for my dim, and sometimes apostate, faith. I have been renewed time and time again by the words and the music that help me believe that there really is a God of love out there who wants us to find who he really is. Despite the Christians who would lead us astray with their moralistic pontifications, U2 has reminded us that what matters is the effort, the journey. When you think you've arrived, you've only just embarked.

In the first paragraph of his most excellent novel, A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving says, "I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice--not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother's death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany." Our vehicles of faith may take on strange guises, but they always take on guises. God wants to be pursued; he wants us to seek us with our whole hearts. He wants to be found by us. The journey has no end, and "Christians" who've sat down thinking they've figured it all out are but stumbling blocks to those who wish to continue the pursuit of this ellusive, hidden God.

My vehicle of faith is in the guise, the words and music, of a band of Irish troubadors.

I am still a Christian because of U2.

"If you only see one film this year..."

Man, have I just seen one of the best films...

Now, I'm not usually given to hyperbole, so I don't know if I'm far enough removed from the film (temporally speaking, not personally) to say it's the best film I've seen this year. I've seen some good ones: Lost in Translation, Spidey 2, The Triplets of Belleville, Hero, the list goes on. This has been a good year for some quality indie releases. Most of the major studios have their indie divisions fully up and running. Movie-goers are finally paying attention to some really important films, and they are becoming genuinely interested in the big festivals like Sundance and Cannes.

(Sudden rant)
Admittedly, like pop music, we will always have the droll and the banal; that vulgar swill that the masses clamor after. We need it, actually. Young filmmakers can't support themselves, and small studios can't support the small filmmakers. They are supported by the excesses of the

big-budget, big-star, over-hyped, over-produced, Spam-on-celluloid, same ol' plot, blockbuster (what does that even mean anymore anyway?), CGI-drivel-where-nobody-even-really-holds-a-camera-anymore, that-everyone-wants-to-see-because-they-don't-have-to-think-while-they're-in-the-theater-much-less-when-they-leave, mega-movie (not film).

But it's the overages, the leftovers if you will, that help to fill out the budgets of the films that force the viewer to take a closer look at the actors because they can't afford a crane to hold the camera 100 ft above the actor's heads. As a result, the actors really have to act. An art lost since the summer of 1977. They're filled with music that's deep and poignant because they can't afford a soundtrack with musicians that are as bloated and over-hyped as the movies that use their music. They show believable places and follow believable plots because they can't afford for some computer engineer (that knows little of real life outside of a cubicle) to "create" sets that only exist on a hard drive.

And the rant is over, as abruptly as it began.

The film is Garden State. And I should mention, the film's website (usually as useless as the films (movies) they advertise) is as worthy of a couple of hours' visit as is the film itself. Especially entertaining is Zach Braff's blog. Hilarious in places. Zach is the writer/director and also stars on NBC's Scrubs. A remarkably worthless show, but this film proves that Zach has unsuspected depth below his TV star skin.

I'm not a reviewer, nor am I a writer about film. I know what I like: I like films that present me with a character I can identify with, then use that character to hold up a mirror on my life or the life of someone I know or of society (well, at least the society I know). This one has accomplished the three-fold mirror. I saw some of myself, much of my relationship with my wife, and a great deal of the existential subculture of Western modernity.

Rising from the ashes, the end of the movie is hopeful, raging in the face of uncertanty and fear. In the end, none of us really knows how it's all going to turn out. We don't really know how our decisions will affect the course of our life or that of those we come in contact with. But we can't spend all our time in the pits waiting to get all the kinks worked out, waiting for the machine to run perfectly. We have to take it out for a few laps at a time, and why not have a companion? Especially one we love to be with.

Love affirming, life affirming, liberating.

I particularly appreciate Zach's blog where he reflects on what he sees as the meaning of the film. After a paragraph of trying to explain it in his own terms he defers to a song on the soundtrack by Colin Hay (former lead singer of Men at Work), and to T. S. Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." He recommends reading it a couple of times and adds that it truly is beautiful.

Agreed, and I'm now even more of an admirer of this film than I was immediately upon finishing it. This film is school for wanna-be filmmakers. This film is school for wanna-be humans. As INXS so eloquently phrased it: "Live, baby, live now that the night is over, and the sun comes like a god into our room: all perfect light and promises."

As Prufrock himself put it,

"Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."

Everybody Limbo! Saddleback Style.

Well, we're really starting to settle into our new digs, now. My wife and I have created a little home here in Pasadena. It's amazing how quickly you can unpack and set up your stuff when you're motivated. The primary motivation is setting up a home that feels relaxed, comfortable. A launching-pad, as I see it. It's empowering to have somewhere you can crash and then launch out from there and work, study, play, learn, etc.

So far, we are loving this part of southern California. We travelled to distant lands today, to pay our homage at the Mecca of the megachurch movement: Saddleback Church. Unfortunately, Rick Warren (the Mohammed of this new movement) was still on sabbatical. We will return soon to hear the man in person. The whole environment was decidedlly sterile. The entire property was more like a mall. It felt in no way like a church, and I'm sure that's part of the plan. Who wants to feel like you're going to church, after all? Yet, something even more disturbing keeps us from being at all enthusiastic about a second visit...

I had read on Saddleback Church's website (link below) that "Pastor Rick" is famous for preaching in a Hawaiian print shirt, slacks, shoes, and no socks. Why this particular uniform? I'm sure I don't know, but I suppose he decided it would be disarming to see a pastor in such an outfit. That's all well and good. I have no qualms with a man wearing whatever makes him feel comfortable (and well-liked at the same time) while standing before a crowd. However, when I entered the restroom, came around the corner of a row of urinals, and saw no less than eight men, standing at the urinals, all wearing Hawaiian shirts, I was a bit concerned. At that point, I didn't know Rick Warren was out for the day. Maybe it was his birthday and as a joke everyone was wearing his "uniform." My concern was escalated somewhat (but still no more than a "Yellow" alert) when my wife and I entered the worship center and saw what looked to be about 40 - 50% of the men wearing the "uniform." Okay, what's going on here? It felt a little cult-ish, but I'll give it the benefit of the doubt. I'm skeptical, but fair. Besides, certainly Warren himself had nothing to do with this mimicry.

After the service, we decided to visit the resource tent to find out what propaganda was being marketed from this influential little corner of evangelicalism. Of course, I wasn't surprised by the glut of items from America's latest Christian fad: 40 Days of Purpose, Purpose Driven Life, Purpose Driven DVDs, Purpose Driven T-shirts, what have you. The books themselves even had a special label embossed on the cover so that the buyer could brag to all of his friends that he had purchased his copy of "PDL" at the home of PDL. None of this surprised me. I'm becoming used to (however no less annoyed by) such Christain flea markets, these money changers right in the courtyard of the temple. What got me, shocked me, was that right there in front of the church, along with your copy of PDL, you to can buy your very own Hawaiian shirt, just like Pastor Rick! Oh, my God! What have we done here?

I was giving Warren the benefit of the doubt. Surely those posers at the urinals were just trying to glam onto the on-stage persona of their hero. The hero himself must be merely an unwitting trend-setter. But no, here they were, for sale in the church plaza. Buy your very own, have Pastor Rick sign it with a Sharpie, be the envy of all your friends.

No further commentary is really necessary here. I'll leave it at that.

Dry Forest Seeks Lightning

On the cusp of something new. Don't really know what it is. Can't see for the smog...

Not sure why I'm talking like Captain Kirk.

LA is hazy, Pasadena is hazy and dusty. But at least it's a dry heat. The fires are still burning in the San Bernadino Mountains a few miles behind where I sit. I'm sure they contribute to this smog. I hear that it's only really heavy in the summer. Hopefully it will clear in a few weeks.

Clarity is part of what I came here for. I was just looking at my last post (it's been a while, I got married, so I've been living in the real world, not on my computer). I seemed a bit lost, confused. I'm not really much better now. I'm still in an environment where I'm surrounded by church-speak (reference to 1984). I don't think all the lingo really makes anything better. I'm looking for a job. The last thing I need right now on the verge of starting seminary is a "ministry" job. I did that. I can't do it again. At least not for a while.

I don't like what I became. I became what I had always despised.

I don't like what Christianity became to me. A clique that required the proper vocabulary for assurance of membership. I don't really think that Jesus wanted to turn his new Way into a country club.

I've been burned. Certainly that's true. But this fire has had a purifying effect. Clearing away the underbrush. Burning off the leaves that cast shadows.

Fire is necessary to propagate life in many forested areas. There are certain types of trees (lodgepole pines are one example) that actually cannot reproduce without the intense heat of a fire. Some trees won't drop their seeds until there is a fire. This makes the soil more fertile, as well as clearing away all the older adult plants, allowing maximum light, nutrients, and water for the seedlings.

The past 2 years have been good, in retrospect. Very revealing. I've been able to peer through the canopy of Christian lingo, marketing, misinterpretation, and motives. Unfortunately, from what I've seen, the ground below is in desperate need of a good fire.

In the rain forest, there are trees that grow on other trees. Any plant that grows on another plant is called an epiphyte. Rain forest epiphytes may never actually touch the ground. They receive the water and minerals they need either hydroponically or by parasitism. Modern American evangelicalism is epiphytic. It has grown on top of the convoluted forest of fundamentalism with little contact with the soil of the Way of Christ himself. It has created a torrid lattice that feels foundationally solid, but bears little resemblance to what the authors of the Bible intended.

Sound judgemental? Well, I am, after all, a product of my environment. I am an epiphyte by birth, straining against my genetic destiny, growing down, away from the sun, feeling for the soft, cool, dark soil. The real, the ground. Not the human construct.

Hopefully, they'll serve some of that up here. If not, I'll keep straining. Truth is what I'm bound for.