A couple of days ago, I got back from a week-long stay in the Alamo city: San Antonio, TX. My goal was to attend and report on the San Antonio Independent Christian Film Festival, a division of Vision Forum ministries. While many events occurred that made me stand in silence, like shaking hands with Dean Jones, Kirk Cameron, and the producers of Expelled, I was most stunned by the way people responded to my press pass.
Everyone wants notoriety, but not everyone wants to talk to the news people. Some of the big shots who I approached would give me suspicious looks and grill me on the newspaper I wrote for. Those I talked to who had little experience with the media would brighten when I told them who I represented and eagerly turn toward me, ready for their chance at getting their name in print. Finally, those who I wasn't speaking to professionally, but nonetheless saw the brilliantly emblazoned word "press" on my chest would look at my face, look at my badge, and look at my face again with a totally different expression. The words "veiled awe" comes to mind.
Rather than make me arrogant, as would so likely be the case, I have tried to use the last week to realize that I'm not really anybody. When Dean Jones talked about "Walt [this]...and Walt said [that]..." it reminded me that my press badge was just a piece of paper, printed by a normal computer, laminated by a normal laminating machine anyone could buy. I haven't done anything extraordinary.
"It's not who I am inside but what I do that defines me."--Batman
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Sunday, December 21, 2008
EMT
Here's for the "Otherwise"...
I am unofficially an EMT. I've passed all my examinations and only wait for my card in the mail. It's a load off my chest and a huge block of time that is now free. Free to write and pursue more artistic things.
I am unofficially an EMT. I've passed all my examinations and only wait for my card in the mail. It's a load off my chest and a huge block of time that is now free. Free to write and pursue more artistic things.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Boys Next Door
My cold has hung on in my throat more tenaciously than our baby schnauzer does to her bone. It may have something to do with the fact that I've been working every day re-shingling a roof in the cold. So today, I'm not working. At least I'm not working outside. I still have lots to do that has been neglected because of the roof. My National Registry exam for EMT is next week; I am behind on my articles for Christian Press; and I have to arrange to go to Texas next month to attend a film festival.
Meanwhile, my cold defies all reason and cough drops.
Looking to the future, I just got cast in a role that shocked even me. We're putting on The Boys Next Door. It's a two act play about four men with mental disabilities living together, and the man who looks after them. I thought I might play the care giver Jack or the schizophrenic Barry but I got neither. Instead, I play what the script describes as a "large black man." I am a man, but I am neither large nor black in any sense of the words.
Nevertheless, the character is incredibly likable and profound. I've never played a man who has the mental capacity "somewhere between that of a five year old, and an oyster." It's going to be demanding and extremely difficult. I will have to visit and spend time with some people who are like the character in order to be as real as possible.
This show isn't just about the mentally handicapped or even people with any kind of handicaps. It's about them and all who are misunderstood and ignored. I see it as a defense of the widows and orphans of the Bible, the unborn babies and the Terri Schiavos of the world.
Meanwhile, my cold defies all reason and cough drops.
Looking to the future, I just got cast in a role that shocked even me. We're putting on The Boys Next Door. It's a two act play about four men with mental disabilities living together, and the man who looks after them. I thought I might play the care giver Jack or the schizophrenic Barry but I got neither. Instead, I play what the script describes as a "large black man." I am a man, but I am neither large nor black in any sense of the words.
Nevertheless, the character is incredibly likable and profound. I've never played a man who has the mental capacity "somewhere between that of a five year old, and an oyster." It's going to be demanding and extremely difficult. I will have to visit and spend time with some people who are like the character in order to be as real as possible.
This show isn't just about the mentally handicapped or even people with any kind of handicaps. It's about them and all who are misunderstood and ignored. I see it as a defense of the widows and orphans of the Bible, the unborn babies and the Terri Schiavos of the world.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Aaron Lee Martin
Aaron Lee Martin plays his instruments as if his life depended on it--as if they were about to kill him and he had to subdue them with his voice. Although he is a very skilled musician, his performances have a true folk quality like he just learned how to play and wants to show his mother what he's learned. He plays to play and not to perform. Even the slow ones feel urgent.
When I saw him last, he succeeded in beating his tambourine into submission. He stuffs his foot into it and raps it violently on the ground. After so much abuse, the thing broke in half during one song so he tossed it away and kicked the rhythm with his moccasinned foot. From a distance, the tambourine rattled back to life through the vibrations of the spongy stage.
Listen to Aaron Lee Martin:
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=53463262
http://www.virb.com/aaronleemartin
When I saw him last, he succeeded in beating his tambourine into submission. He stuffs his foot into it and raps it violently on the ground. After so much abuse, the thing broke in half during one song so he tossed it away and kicked the rhythm with his moccasinned foot. From a distance, the tambourine rattled back to life through the vibrations of the spongy stage.
Listen to Aaron Lee Martin:
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=53463262
http://www.virb.com/aaronleemartin
Thursday, November 27, 2008
America
For Thanksgiving I had a Japanese friend over to eat with my family. I explained to him the origin of the holiday, of the pilgrims fleeing religious control and thanking God for help in a new land. He thought it was funny how our history only goes back a few hundred years. His extends back thousands--not only 43 presidents, but multiple dynasties of rulers.
In light of the relative youth of our nation, I can't help but feel optimistic in spite of current political circumstances (I'm a proudly staunch conservative). With socialism growling at our doorstep and the people poised to sell out to a hope-monger who votes in favor of infanticide, I see the future like a broad Kansas plain. Like any great empire before, the United States will change for good or for ill.
"The times they are a changin' " writes Bob Dylan.
Now, irony makes the conservative voice the radical in the media. Irony abounds when activists proclaim the cause of diversity then condemn a peaceful union of European pilgrims and Native Americans that has long been a foundation of our country. When the force of "hope and change" chants class envy and murder of innocents, irony spits in the face of tradition. When the people of California speak in peaceful democracy and the minor opposition violently and hatefully spray-paints their churches and threatens their safety, humanism reveals itself for the ugly monster it is.
Yet, America remains young. America, the land I love, my homeland is still the greatest nation on earth. I will fight for her, live for her, die for her. I do not seek to better my own circumstances, but secure America for our posterity.
In light of the relative youth of our nation, I can't help but feel optimistic in spite of current political circumstances (I'm a proudly staunch conservative). With socialism growling at our doorstep and the people poised to sell out to a hope-monger who votes in favor of infanticide, I see the future like a broad Kansas plain. Like any great empire before, the United States will change for good or for ill.
"The times they are a changin' " writes Bob Dylan.
Now, irony makes the conservative voice the radical in the media. Irony abounds when activists proclaim the cause of diversity then condemn a peaceful union of European pilgrims and Native Americans that has long been a foundation of our country. When the force of "hope and change" chants class envy and murder of innocents, irony spits in the face of tradition. When the people of California speak in peaceful democracy and the minor opposition violently and hatefully spray-paints their churches and threatens their safety, humanism reveals itself for the ugly monster it is.
Yet, America remains young. America, the land I love, my homeland is still the greatest nation on earth. I will fight for her, live for her, die for her. I do not seek to better my own circumstances, but secure America for our posterity.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Spaces
A few weeks ago, I had a conversation (rather heated but still not an argument) with some friends. We were having trouble talking about more than minor chit-chatty things and someone asked if Adam and Eve had belly buttons. Somehow or other, by pathways del oscuro, we came to the question of the origin of darkness.
Does God make darkness, or dwell within it?
Darkness isn't a thing, but an absence. An absence of light. So our conversation swerved to and fro between issues of matter and time, presence and absence, and parallels to darkness, like coldness, space, and evil.
Evil is the absence of God, right? That's what I have assumed, but how can there be anything outside of God? If God is light, what exactly IS the darkness? From where does it come? At the first creation, before the creation of the earth and mankind, when God first made something, be it angels or the heavenly temple, what was there?
Was it just God? Assuming Light and Dark are parallels to God and the absence of God, was there just light, or was there darkness too? I know that Evil is no match for Good, wherever there is light, darkness always loses.
Always.
So if there was only Light, where did the Darkness come from? On this earth, Light can never create darkness. In fact, Darkness can never be made. It is there when Light dies, or goes away. But the fact remains that if Light fails, Darkness always happens. It is absence.
One idea is that when God first created, He merely opened up voids in Himself. When He created the world, He made spaces between the matter. This theory has problems because it doesn't explain the origin of darkness and space, which is the true question.
In effect, we can never think in terms of Darkness. We only see the presence--the people, not the spaces between them.
Does God make darkness, or dwell within it?
Darkness isn't a thing, but an absence. An absence of light. So our conversation swerved to and fro between issues of matter and time, presence and absence, and parallels to darkness, like coldness, space, and evil.
Evil is the absence of God, right? That's what I have assumed, but how can there be anything outside of God? If God is light, what exactly IS the darkness? From where does it come? At the first creation, before the creation of the earth and mankind, when God first made something, be it angels or the heavenly temple, what was there?
Was it just God? Assuming Light and Dark are parallels to God and the absence of God, was there just light, or was there darkness too? I know that Evil is no match for Good, wherever there is light, darkness always loses.
Always.
So if there was only Light, where did the Darkness come from? On this earth, Light can never create darkness. In fact, Darkness can never be made. It is there when Light dies, or goes away. But the fact remains that if Light fails, Darkness always happens. It is absence.
One idea is that when God first created, He merely opened up voids in Himself. When He created the world, He made spaces between the matter. This theory has problems because it doesn't explain the origin of darkness and space, which is the true question.
In effect, we can never think in terms of Darkness. We only see the presence--the people, not the spaces between them.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Save your breath to cool your porridge.
Burning the roof of the mouth while eating a pastry or drinking coffee is one of the injustices of the world. The bitter irony is that this injustice is self-inflicted. I myself burn my mouth and effectively ruin the rest of my gastric delight. Thereafter, I speak funny, drink cold water, and curse the pocket of boiling jelly that caused this pain.
Perhaps the answer lies in eating only cold foods. I'm told the Italians boil their vegetables but serve them cold. Odd. I am not convinced that this is a good plan. Somewhere, Newton must have discovered the law that states, "For every degree lost while drinking coffee, the flavor declines exponentially." But this law only applies to coffee that began hot. Iced coffee is a different matter.
The worst food to eat cold is potato soup. Nasty.
Time. Time is the key to the perfect temperature. So, I'll blow on my soup and quickly eat my eggs. I'll eat my salad before my baked potato. But I won't wait too long. Look what happened to the three bears when they left their porridge unattended too long.
Perhaps the answer lies in eating only cold foods. I'm told the Italians boil their vegetables but serve them cold. Odd. I am not convinced that this is a good plan. Somewhere, Newton must have discovered the law that states, "For every degree lost while drinking coffee, the flavor declines exponentially." But this law only applies to coffee that began hot. Iced coffee is a different matter.
The worst food to eat cold is potato soup. Nasty.
Time. Time is the key to the perfect temperature. So, I'll blow on my soup and quickly eat my eggs. I'll eat my salad before my baked potato. But I won't wait too long. Look what happened to the three bears when they left their porridge unattended too long.
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