A report from the Fair Mother City

So, here I am. A place I never really thought I'd be. The one and only Abilene, TX! Compared to the other parts of Texas I've seen over the last few weeks, this place is...well, fair. I'm hanging out with Agent B and friends enjoying the sights and winding down from my most recent adventure.

We crossed back into Texas from Cuba (by way of Mexico) on July 28th without incident unfortunately. As some of you may have read on Mike's blog we had the computers that we had with us seized when we crossed into Mexico. The US Department of Homeland Security (DHS) had to make sure that they weren't duel use computers - meaning that they needed to determine whether or not they could possibly be used to assist the Cuban military in a violent assault on the peaceful people of the wonderful US of A. Hopefully you caught the sarcasm. DHS had been patrolling our 'basecamp' in McAllen for a number of days before we crossed into Mexico, so they had to get something out of all the work they put in, making sure that our support to a 'terrorist state' didn't go unpunished.

Now, more than ever I am absolutely sick of the American Empire. Hopefully I'll be able to get some quality writing time in on the train ride home over the next few days, so I can share with you all my experience and the experience of the Cuban people.

For now, from the Fair Mother City I wish you all well. (although I'm currently in the company of one third of my viewers so, mike and james, that's for you) BUH BYE!!

Viva Solidarity!

So, I'm in McAllen, TX right now preparing to go to Cuba with Pastors for Peace. I've been here for two full days now. Meeting all the people and observing how a group this large interacts has been an adventure in itself so far. It seems that most of these liberal folks that I'm with are pretty laid back. They don't want to push anything on anyone else so most comments are passed off as merely suggestions. The most closed minded of the folks seem to be the younger ones. It's pretty damn funny to watch.

Anyways my whole point in writing is to say that we're going to leave here early Tuesday morning to cross into Mexico. This is the part where the caravan has been stopped in the past - computers seized, buses held, breast pumps confiscated, etc. Part of our group from Canada had a bunch of stuff held at customs when they were crossing into the US a week and a half ago. Events like that and the events of the past suggest that there is always the possibility of being hassled at the border. If in fact we do get hassled and it lasts long enough for the press to get wind of it, it would be great if you all (all four of you who read my blog) would be watching for it on various newsfeeds, and give your congressional representatives a call and say, "listen up fucker! I've got a friend down there and you better call someone and let that aid get to Cuba." I'll let you all know how it goes in a week or so.

a mind dump before I leave

As far as I know this will be the last post I will have for quite some time. Tomorrow morning I accompany a group of seven high schools tudents on a four day skate trip in Oregon followed by a week-long Young Life camp before I head off to Cuba for a few weeks. There’s something about the pressure of making sure I have everything ready for so many people to have a great week that I thoroughly enjoy. I almost thrive on moments like this. As my night was winding down I was driving along with this weird feeling. I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t anxious, sad, happy, angry, desperate, or any of those common emotions one might expect when taking on such and endeavor. I called up a friend to let him know about a speaking position he might want to fill. He was happy that I thought of him, then asked if he could pray for me. I pulled over to the side of the road and over the phone he prayed for the kids and me and all that fun stuff. The weirdest thing happened…this odd moist sensation began to develop around my eyes. Suddenly there was this strange trickle of salty water hitting my lips. I finally was able to put my finger on what this indescribable emotion that was pestering me was…JOY. I’ll leave the explanation for it alone.

What this led me to was thinking about what a great responsibility I have ahead of me. I have to be the single adult in charge of these kids for four days until I get to the camp…not a big deal. Once I’m at camp I get a little relief but still the task of making sure the kids come away from the camp week, having experienced God (whether they know it or not), is now on my mind. At Young Life camps, they follow the traditional approach to teaching the gospel - Look at Jesus, this super cool guy…ooh isn’t he awesome, well lets find out what makes him even cooler…first the bad news, you’re going to hell for being a sinner…now that that’s over with, feel bad that it’s you that made him die on the cross…ok, now that you are emotionally broken, he rose from the dead in order that you may have life...don’t know what the hell that means but just trust us, you’re life is gonna be great if you follow our ways.

THIS DRIVES ME UP A FUCKIN WALL!!!

I started thinking how I can balance being contrary to the way they are presenting the gospel but not so much that the kids don’t learn something from the camp or possibly come away as bitter as I am. What is it that I need to say and do in order to make sure the kids have learned about Jesus and God without showing complete animosity toward the way it’s being fed to them from up front? I tried to sleep then picked up a book that I’m reading…Emma Goldman’s autobiography. Right where I left off was where she began her first lecture tour. She began describing her first lecture…she got up and something grasped her…true emotion, true enthusiasm for the subject on which she was speaking. In her following few lectures she wasn’t able to harness that and wasn’t satisfied with not having spoken from her heart. What got her first audience so excited was, as she puts it, ‘strange and magic words that welled up from within me, from some unfamiliar depth.’

I want that. Whether they accept it or not, my job is to let these kids know about a god that they might want to be with, not some god that they feel sorry for. The things that I’m passionate about, involving God, are complex in practice but simple in theory. Most notably, community. Like Mike talked about. A community in which you have to face things/people that you may not like but somehow you enjoy every bit of it. A community where everyone is welcome – even sinners (not something Christians are very good at promoting). The God I believe in loves people. He accepts people. He is patient with people. He also makes it possible for people to know they’ve screwed up (not to be confused with wrath or punishment). People don’t have to know him in order for him to know them. My god probably gets pissed off from time to time. He might even wish bad things on us so that we might learn. But above all that, he loves them and tolerates them.

That’s what I’m enthusiastic about. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I often think that I worship a different god than most Christians. It’s going to take a lot for me to not be a cynical bastard (outwardly) with a lot of things that I encounter at this camp but I hope that if I can maintain the composure to stay focused on what I’m passionate about, I, and these kids, will have a great week. That’s it. Nothing too profound…mainly just a mind dump.

A Short History of Progress (book review)

This is the first book that I've read all the way through in only a matter of days, in quite a while now. Ronald Wright, a Canadian novelist, essayist, and historian introduces his book with an explanation of a painting by Paul Gauguin, on which the words, 'Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we gong?' are painted. This is is the criteria for questioning that Wright follows in his assessment of failed civilizations over the span of human civilization. As he pulls from a large selection of anecdotal evidence, Wright paints a picture of the mistakes that civilizations have made over the last few millenia, from over farming to over production. One case he writes about is that of Easter Island, an island rich with forest that sustained a civilization for a good period of time. In the end, the people of the island became so greedy in their search for power and significance that they litterally cut down the last tree that they could have used in order make a canoe to get off the place because they were blinded by progress. Though there are funny stories like this strewn throughout the book, the overall tone is much more dim.

By the end of the book the feeling you get is that this is written as less of an informative history and more of a plea for change. He points out dangers such as the militarization of space, underproducing food for and overpopulated world, and echoes warnings of fellow writers (Huxley, Orwell, Coetzee, and Hoban) on globalization and complacency. In the final pages, Wright expresses his belief that the powers that be are simply ignoring what we are doing to the earth and the demise we are driving ourselves toward, on the hope that God will come fix at night what we've destroyed by day and goes on to say "none of this should surprise us after reading the flight recorders in the wreckage of crashed civilizations; our present behaviour is tyical of failed societies at the zenith of their greed and arrogance." He wraps the book up by showing that the fallen civilizations of the ancient world were at the time a mere speckle of what the earth had to offer as far as people and nature goes; but this time, with growing interdependance and the massive amount of people at the mercy of few, civilization faces a much more brutal fate, with possibly no hope for recovery - that 'now is our last chance to get the future right.'

It's a quick read. If you have time and read fairly quick, it can easily be an evening read...132 pages.

Oprah's Vajayjay

Yes, that's how you spell vajayjay. And here's what's going on with Oprah Winfrey's.