Tagged: faith
“So You Wasted Your Vote”
I didn’t get to conclude my, “I wrote in a candidate, which by the way is not as simple as you may think-” before my acquaintance dismally uttered, “So you wasted your vote.”
Just like that, I found myself neutered. The man behind the knife was Puerto Rican, incidentally, and didn’t seem to be in the mood to let the joke pass without consequence (which I have to say the joke has gotten funnier with age—go watch it again if you need a pick-me-up). This means he isn’t voting for Trump either.
But I didn’t take away his manhood when I learned his position. So I count that as indicative of my winning the moral moment.
This post is ultimately about the meaninglessness of all our ballots and the meaningfulness of right action. But first I want to record, for posterity, how a write-in vote works.
- There are only specific candidates who can be inked in. These folks had to essentially apply for the opportunity and you can google your state to see the options. (I may actually run one year. Seems like a bucket list thing to me.)
- In Colorado, the law says you have to write in the last name of both the president and vice-president for the vote to count. (I believe the full names would be fine, too. But the space is limited, and since this is mostly an exercise in futility, let’s not draw it out.) So be sure to read the instructions on write-in voting in full.
- Here’s my ballot.
Okay. Back to the debate. Just about everyone on the continent tells me that I wasted my vote. I contend that I did not waste my vote in any sense different than you “wasted” yours. And I counter that it is foolish to believe that if you vote for Trump or Harris you have somehow not wasted your vote, somehow spoken in a more effective language. Or contributed to democracy or the country more than me. Or you have accomplished some civic duty, which I have not.
No, no, no. That’s wrong.
Don’t hear me suggest “fatalism”. I do not dryly believe “what’s going to happen is going to happen.” Please do hear me when I say your actions during this one, seemingly absolutely critical moment in time do not weigh more than your actions during all the other moments. I think I mean this in the biblical sense, introduced by the psalmist and highlighted by my namesake, “one day is like a thousand years, a thousand years like one day.” In short, all our votes are wasted because the notion of voting necessarily implies an incorrect perspective on life—even the life of a country.
Another way to talk about this point of mine that I here offer is to reminisce about the “How did we get here?” question that is terribly fun to debate.
I have yet to hear anyone suggest we got here because of folks’ past voting records (here being these two candidates, after the last two, after the last two, ad infinitum). Instead, the answers given are more provocative. “Education” (or lack thereof). “Immigration.” “Wars.” “Immorality.” “Russia” (meaning anywhere from the theory they have intentionally and strategically taken over the universities to the direct influence on elections). And many, many others. “Welfare.” “Military Industrial Complex.” “End times.” “Democracies only last 250 years, give or take.” Bluntly, then, I mean that if we do not cite our past votes in our answers to “how we got here?”, how could our votes ever be “how we achieve” whatever goal (political or otherwise) towards which we aim?
In the end, no, by writing in, I did not waste my vote any more than you did, you who chose one of the two candidates who possess a proper chance at winning. (Trump has it in the bag, never forget that.) So dismount your high horse, Citizen, and rest assured that in the not too distant future I will be lounging like a tree near streams of water with the knowledge that I didn’t let myself get caught up in the hype anymore than I did for Black Jesus (or Bush or Biden…).
This election is another referendum on how you (we) live your life. It should be interpreted as yet another instance of divine compassion. We’re mucking things up for sure down here. But Voting for Trump or Harris (or anyone) does not change your character. And believing that it does betrays a fundamental flaw in your understanding of life.
Vote or don’t vote, I don’t care. But I do care that you shape up. Turn off the TV. Use the newfound free time to exercise your mind, body, and spirit. The battle rages.
A Little Time Means A Lot Of Focus and Politics is Personal
As election day draws near, I cannot deny that my resolve not to vote for Trump began to waiver. Colorado is solidly blue, so a Trump vote would certainly be a wasted vote. Still, I was starting to feel like it would be fun to tell the grandkids that I was part of the unforeseen popular majority.
As I voted today, I just couldn’t do it. And with time running out, the underlying reason finally surfaced. (I don’t know why I didn’t see this happening; it always does. We veterans prefer working under pressure for the clarity it brings.)
The reason I can’t vote for Trump is because I can’t vote for Republicans. The Republicans were in power during 9/11. They had a chance to accomplish what no humans have yet accomplished, and they blew it—including wasting my time and energy by sending me to Iraq in response.
9/11 should have been used to relegate the false god Allah to the myths and legends section of libraries and bookstores. And the only way to do that is make supporting him deadly—which can be done directly or indirectly, but with intention, nonetheless. So many gods have perished. This shouldn’t be controversial. Instead, and unconscionably, the supposedly great Republican party* decided to lie and wage irrelevant (and illegal) wars under the guise of satisfying all interested players and offending no one.
So, no, I won’t buy into the same system that made that category mistake. Nations are okay, but gods are where the action is at.
Anyhow, I know my opinion is unpopular. So it’s not like I expected to find some candidate who wanted to lead and win the coming Holy War. But I also can’t vote for people who have had the opportunity to do so and dropped the ball. So I found the rules for write-in votes (you can’t just vote for anyone) and there is some random unaffiliated and normal looking citizen that satisfied the requirements for Colorado’s ballot and I voted for him. In other words, literally any average citizen is better than Trump/Harris and the major (and minor) parties. His name is Chris Garrity. Best of luck, man.
In short, with time drawing to a close, I have just now realized that, for me, politics is personal.
*To be clear, the Dems would have done no different.
The Preacher Said, “Joy Cometh in the Morning” in Today’s Service. Was It Code Today?
This morning was my last morning with the Black Baptists before the election. (I work next Sunday.) Going in, I was curious what kind of political talk we’d hear. For the past several Sundays, the gist was always “Trump bad,” but never quite “Kamala good.” And Baptist preachers wouldn’t be Baptist preachers if they didn’t say, “Vote!”
Today’s service had two political moments. The first occurred way before the sermon, during a fairly random reading of a Black History Experience. I don’t recall the exact words, but I remember smiling as the lady said something about how important this election was.
I thought, “Hype!! It’s all hype. She’s a sucker. No different than at this Super Bowl or during these playoffs ‘we are witnessing something never before seen!’ It’s all hype. Don’t fall for it.”
The second moment requires a brief reminder. There are many sayings or scriptures or proverbs which the Black Baptists all around the country utter at least once during each Sunday service. “But early, EARLY Sunday morning…” is one. Another is, “God loves…a cheerful giver.” A third is, “You can’t out-give God.” Another is, “He woke you up this morning!” Another is, “As the old saints used to say…”
The one in question, and behind this post is, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
Seriously. If a woman who has seen five or more decades and survived at least one round of cancer doesn’t say this into a microphone, with perfect timing and emphasis on “But Joy!!…comes in the morning,” then you weren’t at a Baptist church.
Today, however, the sermon was essentially a Stephen-esque recounting of all it took for Moses to strike the rock rather than speak to it. Then, as the capstone, she delivered the somehow never-tired, “Remember, weeping may endure for a night,” (wait for it) “But JOY comes in the morning.”
It was code. It was so clearly code. “Vote Kamala—the candidate of JOY. And stop worrying. The LORD won’t let him win.” Had she said it at any other time in the story, I wouldn’t have even noticed it. But it was delivered with an ever-so-slightly-out-of-place force, an ever-so-slight amount of “indulge me, Saints” that I am certain it was meant as a Gilead-made balm to the community.
My aforementioned Ethiopian wife didn’t see it that way.
What do you think?
The Spark
I’m not saying it will ignite what seems inconceivable—a full and prolonged civil war—but I am saying it will light a proper insurrection.
The spark is going to be a widely attended and publicized funeral.
When the time comes, the funeral, and its attendant crowds, will be the event and day and time that ordinary citizens, and not-so-ordinary citizens, will violently enflame the tinderbox of MAGA vs. DNC incivility. Stay home.
Yes, I have been reading Les Misérables. Yes, I got the idea directly from it. No, I do not think the situation in America is anything like 1832 Paris. But we all can feel that more escalation and more outrageous events await.
It’s my blog. There is a thrill to making measurable predictions. Don’t steal my joy! And before you get your panties in a bunch, just admit that, sadly, you know I am right on this one.
Another Example of the Rewards of Reading in General, and Reading the Great Books of the Western World in Specific.
I have written or implied here that it is my belief that the Great Books of the Western World set is nearly as inspired as the books of the Holy Bible. No one cares.
But I care. And so I persist. Here, then, is another example of the rewards of reading them. I am currently in Vol 4 “Religion and Theology” of the companion guided reader set “Great Ideas Program”. After Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound, there was some Old and New Testament passages and now St. Augustine’s (aw-GUSS-tinz) Confessions.
Some backstory (“Learning is a change in behavior based on experience”) is relevant.
While at Seminary, studying the Bible in its original languages (which truly means being told aloud in English that translators fear “Yahweh was hot” will sound too human ((ergo, not separate—or the Holy in “Holy Bible” (((The “separate book(s)”))))) and so they have opted for the supposedly more esoteric and divine sounding “Yahweh was angry”), I persuaded myself that these early humans were exceedingly (and uniquely) concrete in their writing. And I still believe this to be true, the following reward notwithstanding.
For example of what I mean by this unique “concreteness”, I believe when Moses would tell the Genesis account, he would sweep his arm over his head, from horizon to horizon, as he said, “In the beginning God created the heavens” and then sweep his arm under his feet, from horizon to horizon, as he concluded, “and the earth.” Get it? In other words, I believe that he pointed at the night sky (in my mind I can never shake that all the Old Testament stories were told only after darkness near a pleasant campfire) as he said “heavens” and then the ground as he said “earth”. In short, I believe that Moses did not try to trick anyone or talk about anything unseen in order to talk about the unseen Yahweh. Put one other way, I don’t believe there are two steps of belief. It’s not “Let me explain one unseen. Got it? And then, stick with me, you’ll get God!”
No. For me, my theology—based on content of Bible, to include when it was written—all that the Bible authors ever did was use material world to explain spiritual world.
That backstory complete, let’s get to the heart of the post.
Augustine has a book (chapter) which translators subtitle, “Augustine proceeds to comment on Genesis 1:1, and explains the “heaven” to mean that spiritual and incorporeal creation which cleaves to God unintermittingly, always beholding his countenance; “earth,” the formless matter whereof the corporeal creation was afterwards formed…”
Like you’re undoubtedly thinking, I also thought, “That is an intense sentence. I had to read and re-read it too much to want more.” But I pressed on.
And as I read, with my gesturing Moses in mind, I couldn’t help but notice something. Augustine was spending a lot of time defining formlessness or describing how he couldn’t wrap his mind around it—despite wanting to understand it and then explain it to others.
Then it hit me.
My gesture theory is flawed, in one sense. At the stage of creation in verse 1 of Genesis, a careful reading reveals that this “earth” that Moses points to CANNOT be Planet Earth (however little Moses and mankind knew of it at the time) because the next part of the story is, “formless and void”. Planet Earth is not, formless and void, so something else MUST BE meant. But what?
I still say Moses gestured (and meant it) while he spoke. But I am now forced to clarify that he definitely added a clarification that means he does not believe he is talking about Planet Earth and the rest of the material universe when he gestures.
The new question on this Sunday of Sundays: According to the text, what did God create, by creating “the heavens and the earth”, because it certainly can’t mean material/corporeal/measurable bodies beloved by physicists?
Augustine wrote down his ideas. I have some reactions to those. Others have recorded their ideas. The idea here is not to suggest we can know what Moses meant. The idea is that we can live richer lives knowing that we don’t know what he meant.
“Learning is a change in behavior based on experience.”
In short: the reward for my reading from the Great Books of the Western World is that I learned, that despite my previous intentions and best efforts, that I was wrong. And the “right”, oddly enough, was plainly written and right in front of me for all this time, too. Fascinating.
The Image of a Microscope which Accompanied the Science Article—That’s What Bothered Me Today
The Sunday paper had an interesting article about the current war with China. Interesting as it was, there was no call to action. Or at least not a memorable one. There certainly was nothing for citizens to do. I think what I’m suggesting about the op/ed was that the scale wasn’t appropriate.
On the other hand, there was an article suggesting two “Life Science” bills be voted down. One of the two stock “science-y” images the paper used was of a microscope. Of all the articles and opinions in today’s paper, this irked me the most. Why? Because unlike the other author’s claim that China is an existential threat to America (the sky is a-falling!), this image is one which an individual—likely an editor—can do something about.
“Science” is not merely tool use. If anything, science is to tool (science:tool) as man is to wheel (science:tool::man:wheel). Science invents tools; science is never the process of using tools.
And an editor should know this—could know this. And that editor would be doing a service to truth, and his bottom line, if they put a bit more reason into their product.
What image should the editor use to capture science?
There are many that would work. But an easy one would be of someone writing an excellently organized paper, with a title which sufficiently describes the paper’s purpose.
Much Ado About Guns, Much Ado About Safety, Much Ado About First Responders
“As a veteran military interrogator…”
“From an ER nurse married to an LEO…”
“As a retired sheriff’s deputy…”
“As a physician…”
“As a retired federal agent…”
Dear Reader, care to make a guess as to the title or content of the YouTube video which had such opening lines to the comments?
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Last week was a busy week for me.
For a myriad of reasons, we just don’t fly as much at night, so most of my night hitches grow long and I run out of things to do. Sure, I read diligently. You remember I dabble in learning ASL. I exercise. But if you are able to rest all night and then have 12hrs before work, that is a lot of time to fill.
With that in mind, I had resolved a while ago to get my concealed carry permit again (I had one while active duty, but never kept it when I moved). Rather than take up time when home with the kids, I figured, “Why not find some training while away at work?” So I did.
I had the training scheduled for last Fri/Sat. It made for a bit of stress, because Thursday night and Friday night now became “I hope we don’t fly” instead of “Let’s see what the shift brings.” But it was a good plan.
Then the school shooting happened. This go-around, the unique part was that the kid was already known to be uncommon, to put it mildly. For all the talk about guns, this fact was the most depressing to me because it makes one feel the most helpless. We simply are not safe.
Then I had some time at the beginning of a shift to catch up on any company mandated CBT and saw that I had to do the annual “workplace violence” one before October. So I did it.
To summarize the week thus far, I knew I had concealed carry training (implies self-defense on the brain), there was a school shooting (I have two high schoolers), the shooter was known beforehand to law enforcement (we are not safe), and even at work I had to contemplate how to survive, as a first responder, to any violence while responding to a scene of violence.
That was all before Friday and the first part of the concealed carry training.
Sidebar: There is an actual shooting/accuracy test to the training, and I hadn’t shot in over a decade, so I was a bit nervous. I reviewed some videos which seemed to have good authority and called to mind what the Air Force had taught me. Suffice it to say, I will never watch another. Nor will I ever “train” or consider “training” as anything other than live fire. The recoil and overall physicality endured while firing a weapon cannot be replicated by any amount of anything. This is different from flying, for example, and many other activities in which simulation is highly beneficial. I’m writing this more for me than you, but if you don’t shoot much and have fallen prey to YouTube charisma, then feel free to use this confession to motivate you to get off your duff and go to the range.
Back to the main point of this post.
While in the training, we learned about a concept that I had never considered before (or heard of): insurance for the legal aftermath of “self-defense” shootings. It seemed like a reasonable concept/product and I was about to purchase it.
Then today I was introduced to the fine print and dissuaded from ever purchasing such insurance, in favor of hiring an attorney on retainer. (I am not sure if that is the proper language, but you get my point.)
Then while down that rabbit hole, I discovered the rather unique video which garnered the comments above. Without further ado, the video was a recommendation (which I have taken to heart) to always have the police take you to the hospital after a shooting. Reasons given ranged from strategic, to physical, to financial. But what struck me was the overkill of “appeal to expertise” or “ethos” (recall from Aristotle “logos, pathos, ethos”) in the supportive YT comments. First responders and others in similar positions at hospitals etc certainly have a thankless job. What else can be the reason they so nakedly want respect?
In the end, I am a dad, not a warrior, not a gunslinger. America is a safe place to live and work. First responders are as guilty for their attitudes as the thankless public. And I will be happy for a nice break, and some camping in the mountains with the kids in two days.
****
So did you guess correctly? Let me know in the comments.
The Gays Will Save Us?
I discovered Douglas Murray by accident. He was openly and authoritatively denouncing Islam—and still breathing.
On the other hand, a friend shared a Bari Weiss piece with me. I assumed Bari was a man. Funny. She just started a new university—who does that?
Neither of them utter nonsense. They both seem to pick the most relevant fights. But they’re gay.
They’re not dead, so it’s possible that they see the light before too long. I don’t want to discourage anyone who fights for truth from fighting. So keep it up! Keep writing and podcasting. Please do.
But I have been thinking about these two figures for some time now and I just cannot conclude that being gay doesn’t matter. Sure it does. Of course it matters. All sorts of historical figures, so we’re told, were gay, and they may have even done good for Western civilization. But being gay isn’t a binder for us.
Something is amiss. The being gay is not going to work for the same reason that there eventually is just one straw that breaks the camel’s back. One cannot rebel in every instance, at every turn.
Put another way, why can’t we (sober, reasoning mankind) just have one celebrity level, A-lister who is married with kids and boring. Why is that so repulsive and stigmatized as inherently uncool and unintelligent?
In the end, my point is simply that the fact that that last question resonates tells me that no, no the gays (Murray and Weiss) will not save us. Whether this is because 1. We don’t need saving, or 2. They are not fit for the work of saving, I do not yet know. (I’m leaning towards option 1.)
A Rooster Crowed
And as Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant-girls of the high priest came, and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked at him and said, “You also were with the Nazarene, Jesus.”
But he denied it, saying, “I neither know nor understand what you are talking about.” And he went out into the entryway.
And when the servant-girl saw him, she began once more to say to the bystanders, “This is one of them!” But again he was denying it.
And after a little while the bystanders were again saying to Peter, “Surely you are one of them, for you are also a Galilean.”
But he began to curse and swear, “I do not know this man you are talking about!” And immediately a rooster crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had said the statement to him, “Before a rooster crows twice, you will deny Me three times.”
And throwing himself down, he began to cry.
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On this day, congregation, I ask you, “Did you hear it?”
What I Would’ve Told Myself About Getting Married a Second Time Had I Known Then What I Know Now
Besides the Vindictive Little Hussy Tamar from Genesis story, during our last spat, my wife also asked if I knew what a “Phrase” was and recommended that I read about “the prostitute women bring her to Jesus.”
Again, you have to really want to understand the speaker—it’s my wife; I do—in order to figure out what the hell they are saying in moments like these, but if you work within the given context, “Phrase” can be a heavily accented “Pharisee”.
Unlike the account of VLH Tamar (which is on the whole depressing and kinda embarrassing to the patriarchs of our faith—let alone Scripture itself), I could imagine why my wife would think the LORD in heaven would use the infamous “cast the first stone” story to convict a wretched sinner like me (America’s Husband) and hope that, in so doing, she will create marital bliss in the form of an unquestioned matriarchy.
My wife states plainly that “I accuse her” all the time. (I would say that I speak with truth. Can I get a witness?!)
Naturally, then, she reads about the “Phrases’s” bringing a woman caught in adultery to Jesus (keep in mind, I am not 100% that this is the correct passage. But I think it is. Also informing my guess is the international megachurch’s absolute love and reliance and incessant preaching of this account) and sees the action of accusation and puts two and two together and here we are.
A careful, objective reading of the story, however, does not persuade me (and does not include) that it has anything to offer humanity as regards interpersonal communication or family dynamics or nation building.
After the accusation (apparently uncontested), the text has:
They were saying this, testing Him, so that they might have evidence to accuse Him.
If there is one aspect of the Gospel that preachers and teachers looking to cherry-pick “scriptural applications” from the text miss whole-heartedly all the day long, it is that the Pharisees wanted Jesus dead!
How these men (and now women, #metoo) always miss this, considering the Pharisees did get their way and have him killed, is incredible, but miss it they do! And when you don’t teach what the Bible says, when you don’t do your job and help people to focus on the text, you end up screwing up a whole lot more than just one little pericope (that’s “purr-i-co-pee”, long o). You end up messing with my marriage! Marriage supposedly based in the Judeo-Christian worldview, no less.
Yes, yes. I am currently accusing. I am doing the very thing I am defending myself against.
But I am right.
How can I be sure? Because I have some special power? Not special in extraterrestrial or mutation, but yes, I have a special as in precious or rare power. I can read!
And literacy leads to other things, like answering relevant questions like,
Does Jesus, Lord of Lords and King of Kings, want humans to stop “accusing” each other of mistakes and wrongdoings?
My answer is, “How would we determine such a thing? I mean, for example, I can imagine that we could read up and discover whether he ever forbids the making of accusations. (He does not.) Then we could, if we cared to, read with an eye out for whether biblical authors themselves accuse or offer stories where the protagonist accuses—and are lauded for it. (Text doesn’t have much to offer on either side of this perspective, but Titus 1:6 hardly makes sense if all accusing is to cease.)”
Over and above my literacy power, though, is something simpler. We could simply ask, “What are your intentions, my wife? Because mine are to be head of the best family I possibly can. And yours do not seem to align with mine.”
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But this post is truly about warning myself regarding a second marriage and especially a second marriage that makes new babies.
The warning is this: Pete. You have had the worst divorce in human history—your ex steals your money daily and has kidnapped your daughter. I’m not telling you “don’t do it”. But please consider that this “felt experience” is going to feed into a heavy dread of the same thing happening again. And this means that there will be informed and resultant overreactions to the normal(?) downs of associating with the weaker sex. In short, you are entering into what may, at times, feel like a hostage situation, your kids as the leverage. A veritable, “Want to keep seeing your children? Then do as I say!” Only this time, you know all too well that everyone, including the guys (and gals, #metoo) with guns, will take her side against you.
Consider yourself warned.
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And had I known this, I would’ve proceeded as I have, optimistically, perhaps blindly, because, as the story goes, Jesus did not come to condemn people. If my wife has the Holy Spirit inside her, as she professes and I believe to be the case, then Jesus isn’t coming for me.
Want to take my kids (#metoo)? Good luck! You won’t find any fight from me. Instead, you’ll find yourself fighting the living god.
Wait, what? It’s not about the kids? What’s this? You merely want me to change my thinking? Good luck! All you have to do is remove my ability to read (or burn all Bibles—better make it all books), wipe my memory of scripture, and drop me off anytime after, say, 1900 AD when women have decided they are head of the family. I think if you pray real hard for that, the LORD will give you that good gift. (And you’ll also get that book deal and your “healing” and “blessing” along with the thousand other attendees at your “church”.)
Lord, if you’re listening (I know, I know), do not tarry.
Captain’s Log 