I am starting to worry about my constant carping on the subject of religion. It reminds me of a New Yorker cartoon; two men breaking rocks in a prison yard, one is saying to the other "it all started doing Jimmy Cagney impressions"
So how did it all start for me?
Exposed to "Christian" beliefs in my childhood. Some sound like good ideas, some sound a little sick. I am not a sheep and I need no bloody shepherd. Strange sexual rituals (marriage)
Most of the "leaders" don't seem to have read as much of the bible, as I have, and thier interpretations tend to the fantastic.
I try to think of the people involved as basically rational beings who merely express themselves differently, and that it's my job to try to understand.
As far as social implications are concerned, people believe in things, manipulating these people for political power is sick but inevitable.
The religious sites I monitor seem to consist of church insiders talking to themselves.
I see no dialog, no controversy. I even challenge them from time to time with provocative remarks, but, unless you're on the team and agree to agree, you have no voice. Neurotic escapeism.
Ah yes, churches have performance spaces. Weaseling my way into a church might be a way to find musical friends and promote my music. I guess I forgot the lessons I learned in public schools here in Seattle, that the "community" doesn't want a nigger like me. The Seatttle Symphony has refreshed my memory on that one.
I don't begrudge anyone thier beliefs, it's just that too few of them contain a concept of civility.
Oh.....definitions.
belief = expect
I don't actually expect anything out of the future, but the green shoots I see out my window call up a memory of flowers.
I used to "believe" that a kind word, even in an unpleasant situation was at least not a bad idea.
I used to believe that..something....but now I dont't expect.....whatever.
Actually, I believe I will go cook up another cup of coffee, be right back....
Hopefully this coffee will wake me up and I will figure out whatever it is that I am trying to say. Hmmm Maybe it's what I'm trying to do rather than what I'm trying to say. Maybe I'm just trying to write a post that is longer than some of the comments I get.
Yesterday was schoolday for me. I take the #7 bus because it runs virtually by my house. I get off on 3rd near Benaroya hall, I go to Caffe Ladro for a caffeine and carbs before I walk up the hill to Seattle Central Community College (voted best in the solar system a couple years ago). The walking is good, it will probably be made illegal soon. (special law just for me anyway).
Anyway as I walked by B'hall I saw a big bear get off another bus right beside me.
This bear was one whose habitat is in the far northern regions, and yet the bus she was on was heading north as if the bear came from the south. Came with in 8 feet of me. This is a frightening developement. The hairs on my neck stood up (knocked my hat off, it did) I walked on a little faster but had to stop for a crosswalk. As I waited for the light, I looked over my shoulder to see if I was safe. The bear seemed to be clawing at a rotten stump for bugs (or whatever they claw stumps for) Still quivering in fear, I was almost tempted to not wait for the green light, but I've had arctic training and know how to control my fear. I maintained sphincter control too. Besides, showing fear is the last thing you want to do in these situations. They can smell it and it makes them crazy. They can't help it, I understand that. It's just nature, and I've had enough. Not interested in any more claw scars, got enough of that in my working for a living years.
Anyway, the bear didn't attack and disappeared into a nearby cave.
Irony; it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been evicted from the other side of the street by weasels.
It must be due to global warming that her hibernation ended early.
Caffe Ladro uses only environmentally friendly free range beans.
They have nice peanut butter cookies.
Next monday, I'll wear my bearproof vest.
I don't actually expect anything out of the future, but the green shoots I see out my window call up a memory of flowers.
So, after class, where I'm developing a hopefully readable score to submit to a Minnesota orchestra who select scores for reading every year (never mine, I buy lottery tickets too) I walked back downtown to have lunch at Wild Ginger (excellent food and Jasmine tea)
Went to the library, went home, went to Southcenter, bought a joke book (pretty bad)
had dinner at a pub (pretty good) Went home, fell asleep reading the joke book.
How many mystery writers does it take to change a light bulb? Two, one to screw it in most of the way, and one to give it a suprising twist at the end. Went to bed, woke up, read the rest of the joke book, fell asleep, woke up, read the rest of a adventure novel, "Death on the Nevskii Prospect" fell asleep, woke up, tossed and turned, fell asleep, woke up, wrote something secret in my journal, fell asleep, dreampt, woke up again.
Hello, Goodbye
Wait a minnit! That "surprizing twist at the end" bit makes me wonder if the basic architecture of mystery stories and jokes are not the same. Something odd is going on here. Has anyone ever seen the two of them together?
Is that why crime is so funny?
Labels: Bearclaws, Ho, Hum, Surprizing twist