There's gotta be some way.

Are we afraid of the term "meditation?" We call it quiet time, even though it's truly meditation... It's not as imperative as in the Eastern religion, but it seems that it's just as important for our understanding of the nature of God and all his crazy antics.

Meditation and the clarity and the fishing down deep is all pivotal. But why can't we call it meditation? Euphemisms will destroy our world.

Black on both sides

I have a problem with authority. Especially when I disagree with the ideology of the company that I work for. Even when I do agree with them, I still have a problem with others telling me what to do. No matter how much they're paying me. No matter what the consequence.

Some would say that a man would suck it up and deal with it, but I was raised that a real man rises up for what he believes. Even Jesus did it.

And Best Buy, you've turned my heart into a den of thieves.

We are hip hop. You, me, everybody. It's goin' where we goin'.

Reach Out. Time. Requiem.

Perchance,
it is requiem.

Or, perchance,
it is time.

Time to reunite old love,
with new divine,

to take the word
and leave it bare-boned
and aleatoric.

Back unto its own basics.

Time to knock the whole pretentious lot
out on its whore-ass.
The whole convention and all its bullshit.

And to push forward, against.
For without a push to begin,
how can there be a push to

end.?

--

Believe in God.

We'll call it Christmas when the adverts start

Does the world actually exist? What actually exist? What is it existence?

If Paul calls us to not be of the world, what does that mean? It has often been interpreted to mean the things that go against our beliefs, and, yes, that does make sense. But what of our beliefs but love and faith in Christ as God? Is the world, then, simply the things that are not in love and contradict our faith in Christ as God? Is then premarital sex of this world? It's an act done in love, surely, but, at the same time it sometimes drafts consequences of regret. And regret leads to despondent acts.

And if the world is only the cause of a chain of events, what do we make of the paternal acts? What of the creation? Even that was a chain of events for God to say, "It is done, I can rest. My God was that a long six days." That first day. Our first day, our first act.

Then is the only thing of this world our final breath and our final repercussion for all things are linked? Then is being not of this world simply being?

But, oh, how it deepens, when you consider that we start dying the moment we are born.

What is it to be of the world? What is the world? Do either exist? Are we as Christians focusing too much on our physical actions, those that are often called worldly, when it's really the ontological actions, our acts that effect our state of being?

Oh how shallow Christianity is!

Crimson Clover and Bastard Synergy. And, you, yourself? How are you?

I'm cutting my hair, I'm getting the fuck out of Dodge.

With love and regards, but never contempt or approval, I've cynically lived my life. God's not dead, he's just in my own soul's coma.

Fuck love in the INLAND EMPIRE.

All, All we'll ever have.

It is.

My problem with Mormonism does not stem from their beliefs, their stigma, their theosophy, no. What it stems from is the fact that they believe "The same priesthood authority that existed in the original Church established by Jesus Christ exists in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints today." (Divine Priesthood Authority) What Church did Christ set up? Wasn't it Peter who was the first Pope? All Jesus did was teach and lead, not organize. He organized no one, they followed him of their own will. The church was setup by the Apostles.

The more I read about the religion, the more it disgusts me. I don't understand--their beliefs are, at their core, the same, and yet it all has a false sense about it. But then doesn't every church?

Maybe it's that it has no true history, that it's a new religion. Most religions have a culture. And the culture of Mormonism seems to be, despite their President's open statement otherwise, of the white upper-middle to upper-class American. They are anti-gay marriage and think that it is simply an inclination that can be fought against. And we thusly disagree about that. But, hell, this is some of the smartest thinking about marriage I've heard:

"The Apostle Paul taught that “neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 11:11).

In marriage, as before God, men and women are equally important.

Marriage gives neither partner the right to dominate or abuse the other. Rather, husband and wife should help each other as equal partners." (link)

They believe in a Purpose Driven Life like Rick Warren, but they're more bureaucratic and step-driven about it. Repentance, Forgiveness, Priesthood, Saving Yourself all have steps to do.

There seems to be no room for individuality in the church, despite my meeting completely different mormons. They have rules for everything, like their own Torah. They have brought back the legalism of the Sadducees, it seems. Maybe they will bring about the second coming because God's so pissed off about the fact that they're doing exactly what he preached against.

Loving one another, Faith in Christ as your Lord and Savior, and Self Sacrifice. Everything else will come thusly. That's what I believe. Those are my believes. Sit on it.

Oh, and I also believe that Capitalism is organized crime. But that's another topic.

Syncopation

Is it immature to fuss about the immature? What is immature? People have made a lot of money off of immature things, you know (cf. Jackass and the entire MTV generation).

And what if sin is relative? As in, what is sin to me is not to you. Ignoring the obvious agreeables like murder and theft, etc., where does the line get drawn? Is there a line? Or are the minor sins and minor issues always to be debated? That seems more like it. The ambiguous is always what gets argued most. That's why baseball is popular. It's ambiguous--no time and enough flexibility to have a game go for as long as 5 hours and as short as 1 hour.

I just realized I've been wearin two different types of socks all day.

"Do you still want to hang out today?" I asked

"No, Evan, it's too late." she replied

"I will find out, one day."

Go see INLAND EMPIRE. It's not about the Inland Empire.

--

Currently, I think what's the biggest thing on my list is to "get the fuck outta Dodge." Usually it's find love and all that metaphysical bullshit, but, really, what do I have here in Rancho Cucamonga? My social network was slashed and thus collapsed after graduation, and the one part is moving away, so fuck you, I'm moving away too.

There is nothing for me here.
I will find out one day.

We are truly blind to what our conscience doesn't want to see.

Water runs from the snow.

Fear of nihilism and cynicism and disenfranchisement in a city of franchises.

I am going to be visiting Humboldt University this next week, hopefully. I am thinking of transferring there, all 760 miles north of it.

I want to be transformed. I want to free my mind. I want to laugh. I want to experience the Redwood Coast.

I want metaphysical enlightenment. And I can't achieve that here. I want to experience, I want to live.

And I can't achieve that here where opportunities to be the over-man (cf. Thus Spoke Zarathustra) are far too prominent. Not to say you're dumb, but I always feel apopletic, bursting onto others. I've taught you all I know, and I must move on. See? Nihilism.

Although, I probably will be back to live in SoCal again because I plan on going to Fuller Seminary in Pasadena for my Masters or Doctorate in Theology.

With JP moving, my whole social network moves north. And what do I have for me here if all I was staying around for was friends? Most damn near abandoned me, became their own over-man. Yea, well, fuck you. I'm leaving.

--

Go see David Lynch's INLAND EMPIRE. It's not about what you think it is.

"A Woman in Trouble."

Lapping Currents

I am a hypocrite. I suffer from the nihilism I preach against. This has reared its ugly head, and now I feel like I'm in need of some sort of cleansing.

I do think I am better than you, a lot of the time, because I've come to these "great revelations." But in all reality, it's just a bunch of bullshit. And who am I to judge?

--

JP's going to San Luis Obisbo. I am happy for him and sad for myself. I am such shit at meeting new people too, at getting some sort of sweeping confidence. I guess that's what defeat does to you. And I'm shy and paranoid.

And love. Love will ultimately be your defeat as well as mine. Probably mine first since I'm so insanely in love with the idea of being in love. How gay is that.

The LandLord's daughter

I think the problem with my social awkwardness, and oft disdain, lies within the esoteric. Not so much things that are esoteric, but things within common things that are esoteric. Like, "I'm gonna kill you, mothafucka!" which I said to my dad tonight. That's from a Dr. Dre song. But who would honestly know that? Or "That's just how it goes I guess," how would anyone know that that's from a mewithoutyou video on YouTube from Cornerstone 2006? "You shot Marvin in the face!?" is another good example (Pulp Fiction). Or, during Apocalypto (absolute shit. Don't see it.), I shouted, "BEES!" during a scene where the pursuers get attacked by bees. Funny out of context, sure. But funnier in the context of my dad's story about a co-worker shouting it in a high-pitched voice over the radio on the train.

I try not to worry about what others think of me, but when all I have to call on a Thursday afternoon is a friend, an ex-girlfriend, and someone who I really doubt wants to hang out with me, as apologetic as she is and can be, I begin to wonder if I should care so that I have some sort of network to get me off my ass.

I've had a very existential week. nothing to be done, nothing to do but wait for 3 o'clock Friday when I work. Godot is coming, and I will probably get called off. "Godot will not be able to come today, but if you come back tomorrow..." I've gotten really depressed and have begun to sleep a lot. It's the closest to time-travel that I can get. It's the nicest thing. It's the hardest way to make an easy living. See? There's another one. That's the title of the Streets' ablum, "The Hardest Way to make an easy living."

I let the Beast in too Soon

I received this comment from Anonymous. Don't be anonymous anymore, it pisses me off. I digress. Anyway, This is it, regarding my previous post:

"...but I want you to be wise about what is good, and innocent about what it evil." Rom. 16:8

I like to think that anything that is NOT of God is of the world. It doesn't always have to be a complicated thing to interpret.

"For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin." Rom. 6:6

so, since we have his blood, we aren't slaves to sin anymore, and so shouldnt let it be a part of us. I love this verse. Pull it apart and really think about it! It's magnificent!"

What is not of God, if he created everything--from the land to the sea to the birds to the people? Sure, the body of sin has been done away with, but what about our intrinsic desires and our intrinsic soul? Isn't that the most inherently evil thing known? All those animal urges are considered evil, and they are the foundation of which we are built. If, then, those instincts are of this world and are inherently evil, then does make a creature of pure instinct, like a dog, completely evil and thus to be destroyed?

Even language, all language is from God--it is the one thing that discerns us from the animals.

I do not conform to our government completely because I believe it is evil, yet necessary. I do not conform to our corporations because I believe they are worldly and greedy and the most innately evil thing we know of. But, once again, how do we escape these things except for being Amish? Except by becoming a recluse in a forest, writing our manifestos like the UniBomber? Everything is evil, it seems, and the only thing that seperates us from this world is our faith. Our faith is not of this world. That's the one thing that is completely detached. The metaphysical, that which does not take up matter. Those are the things that are not of this world. The rest falls beneath. Faith, love, liberty, the metaphysical.

Then, then, we could go to the extreme and say that, "Since we, according to Romans 6, are dead to sin, we can no longer sin, and thus everything we do is sacrosanct." But that's just bullshit. Maybe.

I can agree with this person, but it just brings up more questions. That's all.

And, again, I have to ask the question of: Why is cursing and swearing considered evil? That's one thing that I just don't get. So I ask again.

Two other things:

Romans 16:8 is actually, "Greet Ampliatus, whom I love in the Lord." Not quite the same effect. I think he\she meant 16:18, but, even then, I have a different translation, including 17 "I urge you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and put obstacles in your way that are contrary to the teaching you have learned. Keep away from them. For such people are not serving our Lord Christ, but their own appetites. By smooth talk and flattery they deceive the minds of naive people." The Naive people can be deceived. There's a difference between innocence and naivete. I am innocent because I am a virgin and "straight-edge." I am not naive because I know the inner workings of this good earth.

--

Danielle Cobb sent me a message and told me to stop being so negative. So here it is: Ten Nice Things about Life

1) Music
a) Fiona Apple, Joanna Newsom, mewithoutYou, Devendra Banhart, the Decemberists (O Valencia!)
2) Film
b) Directors: David Lynch, Quentin Tarantino, Darren Aronofsky; Actors: Elijah Wood, Shia Labeouf; Actresses: Naomi Watts, Laura Dern, Isabella Rossallinni.
3) The Philanthropic.
c)That Guy who invented the segue, specifically. He's fricken amazing.
4) Laughter.
d) needs no explanation. Smiling is excellent. I love to smile, I love to laugh. Especially at my own or others' expenses.
5)Love
e) True love.
6) Philosophy
f) Existentialism and Nihilism and Objectivism and Christianity and Catholicism and my own.
7)God
g) To know God is to know life.
8)Family
h) the greatest friends you will ever have or will not have. I have two sisters and parents. They love me. And support me.
9)Friends
i) They often offer the greatness of the previous 8.
10) Socialism
h) It's the knowledge that there is something better. Hilary 2008. Or Obama. :)

One love.

Life is beautiful, but I often see the bleakness because that's what I've been taught by my parents. To never take anything at face value. To think critically about everything. And, although that has bogged me down in some areas, I believe it is the best thing they could've taught me. I have a job, I have my friends, I have my doubts! Amontillado!

Grapefruit from a Bramble Bush

But he continued, "You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world..." John 8:23


Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2


You have to ask yourself: How does one conform to the pattern of this world? Is it by cursing and sexual frankness? Is it by conforming to the will of a despotic government? Is it by being passive about an indecent war?

Or is it about seeking God which is not the pattern of this world. The pattern of this world that Paul was talking about, I believe, is merely the ideas that are put forth and the ones that we passively accept. Am I of this world because I am sexually frank and I curse like a sailor? No. I am not. Because I seek God with all my heart, and have him as my undercurrent in everything that I do. From women to whitewashing. I praise God for all he giveth and taketh. Ergo, I am not of this world, despite however much I sodomize your moral high-horse. We are one and the same with different tactics.

And does that really surprise you? That a socialist Christian has a different tact than a Republican one who thinks the line of morality to draw in the sand is far before what it should be?

Jesus said we are of this world, we are from below, and there is no changing that. The problem is that people think that not conforming to the patterns of this world means not cursing and being naive whereas I come from the disposition that it is not that, but rather the idea that the patterns of this world are greed and lust and rage and malice and deceit. To not conform to the world is to not conform to those ideals. We are all a slave to our sin, but is swearing a sin? No. Is talking about cunnilingus a sin? No.

Perhaps all the morality is to veil a paper thin faith, making it easier to proclaim to the world that you are a Christian. It's a lot easier to be passive and quiet and naive (as most of the non-cursors are) rather than to dissent. I will fucking dissent. I will sodomize your moral high-horse and come away still a Christian, still as "non-conformed" as any of you. But I am free. And I am honest. And I believe in God the father and Jesus as his son. And I will proclaim this until the day I die.

Maybe I'm not supposed to be a fiction writer. Maybe I'm supposed to focus on non-fiction... But the problem is that where do I publish non-fiction?

Anyway, It's the Christmas season and there's no baseball on. I hate it.

Refused Party Program

I trust God more than I trust people. But, then I have about zero trust in people, and anything times zero is zero.

Does that mean I do not trust God? in that I don't trust his pan-ultimate creation?

I think this world is bullshit anyway. I think Christians are far too often naive and full of themselves (Except Keagy. She's just nice.). But, like I said before, I just hate their whole ontological and theosophical nihilism. And their overman. Wasn't Christ of the people?

And why is "fuck" such a bad word? I can see the degradating effects of "cunt" in certain circumstances. But fuck? So the fuck what? it's a passing four letter. And shit is angry. No divinely negative connotation. Spic, gook, Nigger, etc, I can see the beef with, along with cunt. But why fuck?

"In the wake of our existence. In our parades, and in our dances. Touch, see, and behold: the wisdom of the Party Programme. Essential in our lifetime and irresistable in our touch, the great spirits proclaiming that, 'Capitalism is indeed organized crime. And we are all the victims." -Refused.

Abraham Lincoln was the Great Emancipator.

An Empty Garlic by Rumi (Translated by Coleman Barks)

"You miss the garden,
because you want a small fig from a random tree,
You don't meet the beautiful woman.
You're joking with an old crone.
It makes me want to cry how she detains you,
stinking mouthed, with a hundred talons,
putting her head over the roof edge to call down,
tasteless fig, fold over fold, empty
as dry-rotten garlic.

"She has you tight by the belt,
even though there's no flower and no milk
inside her body.
Death will open your eyes
to what her face is: leather spine
of a black lizard. No more advice.

"Let yourself be silently drawn
by the stronger pull of what you really love."

What I thought was interesting was that final stanza. "What you really love." not "Who you really love." I began to dwell on who I love, if it's anyone that I know. If it's she, then she has no nourishment and she's deflowered. It is not she. Then I began to think about what I love. And how I love it. I neglect my writing for the fey pressures of life and boredom. I struggle a lot from boredom. And mixing that with a big, empty house, I have nothing to be done. 11 hours a week at my job and I do not love it.

Is the what that I love actually she? Or is the what that ufailing, easy answer. The what is God. But that is too obvious. Writing? Obvious. Film, baseball, theology, rational argument, thinking.

You don't meet the beautiful woman. Not women. Singularly beautiful woman. Not women. And who is she if not she whom I know? Am I too young to know? I mean, the triumverate of potentials that I know don't seem to want me back, and then, if that is the case, is that singly beautiful woman going to never walk into my life because I am too shy?

but what do I love? Silently, quietly, what do I love? Spooning. Oh, it's that easy.

No, no. beyond the jokes, the humor--laughter. I love laughter. I love to laugh. I love music.

Is that what itself my damn-near-hostile obsession with love? Is it all those hopeless romantic thoughts that often decay my mood unto loneliness and bare-boned anonymity?

The what's, the loves, the singulars, and Oh I feel so old.

File under: Worry; Easy Listening.

My finals start tomorrow. And I'm worried. I don't know why I'm worrying, but I am. I've been acing all the motherfuckers this season, so I have nothing to worry about. But, still, I suffer from Liberal Jewish Paranoia, even though I'm a negligible 1\64th Jewish. I guess my Jewish qualities still shine through though. With pride, of course.

I want to go to the Bay Area--Frisco, Berkeley, Santa Cruz. But I don't know why. There's a certain allure about the cities, I guess. I want ot get published, but I don't write enough short fiction. Or long fiction. I've written maybe one or two stories a YEAR. Maybe I should batton down the hatches? But non-fiction is a lot easier, I've realized. Maybe I'm supposed to be a journalist? Or a social Critic? Because my older stories seem to be stale and shit-riddled. I was a cocky, egotistic, motherfucker with no self-esteem, and that shows through by the protagonists. And the protagonists all die. I think that was my way of saying, "I am not ego." It was my own self-denial, my killing off myself. And it's probably also directly connected to my often-feeling of not wanting to live anymore. That's pretty typical, especially when the worry gets to be too much. I even bought a knife today, for work. And I began to think, "it's gonna get easier to bleed this way, you know."

But I'm tangled in the reins and lost in the love of God. My purpose hasn't been fulfilled, I haven't been actualized yet. It's all fucking coming.

And I want it now.

I want love, especially. I want to go on dates, I want to take girls out, I want to find love. But I'm so caught up in my own idealism and shyness and fear that no one will ever love me in "that way" that I can't say anything to any girl about that. As art fades, form appears. I want a lover, an editor, a critic, a friend, a supporter, a lean-to, a house, a home. I want too much of girls my age. I want too much of myself at this age. I want everything now, and I have no patience.

We've discussed this before, you and I. The whole idea of my impatience. I'm only 18 for Christ's sake. But, at the same time, I want to cry because I know in my heart of hearts that I won't hold another girl with love and affection for another few years.

Hopeless romantic idealism. And Liberal Jewish Paranoia. They obviously don't mix. But when they do, you get a mess like myself.

"How're you?"

"I'm decent."

"Well, that's a change."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Traditional Chinese Medicine in Omaha

The paradox of buying a packaged knife is that you need a knife to open the knife. But if you buy yet another packaged knife to open the first, you need a third to then open the two. The moral? Use your fucking teeth.

I guess the reason why I haven't killed myself yet is directly tied to the fact that I've killed myself multiple times in many of my stories. All the early ones result in my death, me as the narrator, or me as the protagonist. And, to quote various zombie movies, "How do you kill something that's already dead?"

It's a less harmful form of self-flaggelation.

So, nobody purchased The Fall issue of We are all Serial Killers. So what am I doing? I'm making a 2nd volume, goddammit. And I'll tell you why. because I might make this one at Kinko's. And it'll be cheaper that way, I think. Hopefully, we'll see.

And it'll be a lot more magazine-esque. I'm willing to take SERIOUS submissions--art scans in B&W (B&W printing is way cheaper), B&W photography, essays.

And it can be of anything, you know me. Open to anything. Except pornographic. If there's nudity, at least make it classy. :)

That is that. Follow the link to Volume one to see what's in it, and buy it for God's sake. It's only 45 cents for the PDF. And having a Lulu account doesn't hurt anyone. Make your own books.

Buy Volume 1 and get excited for Volume 2.

S-S-S-Sabotage!

Christians caught up in their own ontological and theosophical nihilism. We've all seen it. They're the ones with the stories about accidental swear words. And me in the backseat can only say, "I have no story for my disposition is to swear like a sailor." They're the ones holed up in a niche of--more like a small crack--of culture that is poorly written and poorly composed. All the Christian music I hear, save a few exceptions, and all Christian literature I've read, save very few exceptions, has been shit. There's no way around that word. "Crap" is too white-washed and euphemistically silly. "Crud" is all the worse. "Poop?" "Terrible?" No. I want a word that is associated with that which comes out of my anus. Shit shit shit. Now, admittedly, I hate 90-97% of all existence anyway, so maybe my stance has no validity. But the fact that they're willing to sacrifice something's validity because it's "vulgar?"! Oh dear sweet Christ how shelled you are. What is life without vulgarity? What is honesty and integrity with that veil protecting you from things people should be honest about.

They are caught up in a naive being. Maybe they don't prioritize or necessitate seeing or knowing what 90-97% of this world consists of. Maybe they don't see the need to know their fellow brethren?

That's naive, pious, shit. Shit I will not stand for.

I can't tell my Christian friends that I masturbate, I can't tell them about my struggles. Because it's taboo and it's "icky." Icky? Are you fucking children? Or just... fucking children. It's frustrating that I can't be honest around Christians, because my life is icky.

But show me someone more devout than I am? Consider everything I've been through, all the things that should have caused me to fall away and onto that broad path. Come back and tell me that I am no Christian because I swear. Come back and tell me I am no Christian because I am constantly attempting to humble myself in the face of honesty, integrity, and, often, embarassment.

Be not afraid for the World is yours, oh Children of God!

Something to Chew on

So Buddhism and a few a others believe in reincarnation and enlightenment, right? The whole idea of cyclical thought, where everything comes back around until your soul is finally enlightened.

Christianity, however, believes in the one-life-to-live, get rich or die tryin', straight and narrow path of life. Hm.

I state this because I had to write a paper on self-realization and how enlightenment cuts that cycle short, like a slingshot, catapulting you into heaven. A cycle cut open is a straight and narrow line. See what I'm getting at?

Maybe Christianity is the enlightenment all Buddhists are seeking: that path straight to heaven, that one life, not restarting, and being on a one way to Heaven. The only rebirth a Christian ever faces is when he turns around and says, "I and the Father are one," and accepts Christ into their heart. That's all the rebirth we need. That's it. And then we have cut short the cycle--say, we didn't hit the home run, but we got the hit, the double, the triple--and are catapulted at our eternal father in love, faith, and humility.

Christianity is enlightenment for all.

You can't yet appreciate harmony.

Evan Pugh

Schuh, English 101-15

December 1^st, 2006

Gods of Realization and Actualization

Although it may seem, as in Waiting for Godot, that we as people are generally sifting through the madness of everyday life and seeking our self in its cyclical repetition, the truth is that, unlike Waiting for Godot, our self often comes. And often with great force.

Using my previous essay as a catalyst, I will further synthesize the idea that Adrienne Rich put forth in her essay “Split at the Root,” and the media’s influence on these ideas as presented by Howard Zinn in his essay, “Stories Hollywood Never Tells.” Between the two, we get the sense that self-realization is a road often hindered by life whereas our existence is constantly pushing us forward, constantly trying to get us by these road blocks and into the greater depth of ourselves.

The stories that Hollywood never tells are those tales of dissent and of passion against the grain, tales of what the enemy was thinking. Zinn states there have been few exceptions, mentioning All Quiet on the Western Front and The Slaughterhouse Five, but how appropriate is it that they were both adaptations of novels because most, if not all, revolutions were started by one man’s writing. From John Locke to Upton Sinclair. The trend has been, throughout the ages, to have great ideas start out in words.

The story that Hollywood would tell is that of Adrienne Rich: Half-Jewish and confused, going to Radcliffe with the Jewish intellectuals, becoming a lesbian, having her husband die. It would make for a good movie, even using the biographical cinema tool known as “rosebud,” which is where there is one central theme running through the movie. That central theme would be her Judaic roots, and her searching and spelunking to figure out how she fits together.

In that vein, though, it would be a long movie, and one without an ending, because that’s what this road is: unending, save for those few who, according to Buddhist faith, become one with God. According to that same article, “Becoming one with the father is the experience of Self-Realization, which cuts the chain of death and rebirth once for all.” Zinn cut the chain of death with his activism and his publications, becoming immortal in the literary canon. Rich performed the same. Self-Realization comes when you realize that you can live forever in your own way through the remembrance of others.

However, that is only one view, and one that I tend to disagree with, because the article goes on to state that Self-Realization comes when someone states that they are God, much like Jesus proclaiming, “I and the Father are one.” But, then again, on my own road of self-realization, I have also hit this road block, the questioning of my relationship between my Father and I. This has lead me to question that, if all things are of God, created by God, God breathed, God inspired, and loved by God, then are we not a mere extension of he whom we are imaged after?

In that vein, then, Bob Dylan, in his song, “Blowin’ in the Wind,” asks the question of “How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?” How many roads must a man walk down before he can proclaim he’s man of God? That he is God? The political aspect of this song ties into what Howard Zinn talked about in essay, in the sense of, “When will these people who are enslaved and hated and segregated have the chance to have their side of the story heard? When will their collective image and their collective struggle be heard and break free of the chain of death, and into the chain of remembrance?”

Therefore, the unending waiting and waiting and Waiting for Godot has been actualized and realized because it is eternal, it is unending, and Godot will never come but their acts and their nonsense will long be remembered.

Suddenly, it becomes the idea of, “If I do not become a self-realized human being, if I don’t become immortal in some way, will I then become reborn and reborn until I then am remembered enough to the point beyond Déjà vu and, ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ and into the canon of those that are the most important figures of our gilded age of internet and rock ‘n’ roll?” The questioning that began because of one woman admitting that she was Split at the Root, has extended beyond her own questions and into my own, as any and all and only great literature can do. Great literature and great writers assert their ideas into your life and pray upon your soul for only in depravity can true knowledge and true realization and true need be realized. And the true need will become your self-actualization and your own remembrance until Kingdom Come.

So, yes, in a sense, we are all gods in the making. But not in the sense of, “I am God,” but, instead, “I cannot come back for my soul has already fulfilled its purpose.” But the souls of those not actualized and realized just may come back and be reborn and start again until they have made their mark. For every great generation needs great leaders and ideas and revolutionaries.

If someone always remembers you and your essence, how can you and your ideas be reborn? And then when that soul feels dejected because every one of their ideas has been taken up by some guy named John Locke, whom they actually were in a past life, they commit suicide and thusly cut the chain of death again. That’s another possibility.

I will admit that this train of thought is completely against my own WASP ideals, my ideals of one life and eternal life. But if I do not change the world, and I do not change all things and all thought beyond comprehension, then what has this life been but a sad and destitute prelude to a long summer?

Our Christian media tells us and tells us of one side of the story, the American side, the Protestant side of things, but not the circular, back and forth of the Eastern thought, and how everything comes back again until actualization and realization and only then can you and the Father be one.

I am God.

----

The essay that I used is only available to CSUSB students. However, if you want a copy of it, just go ahead and ask.

Wolf, Shadow, Sheep, and Black Socks. Still Life.

Things that get so down sometimes; you know you need a girlfriend when your best friend tells you that you need one.

Oh this the lonesomeness!

So okay, here it goes: JP is leaving. He's moving to San Luis Obisbo, almost positively, in August of next year. And then where am I? I am again lonely, again sad, again gone into myself and at home on friday saturday thursday nights. And then where am I? How selfish is this that I want him here and around so that I don't have to seek out again, to find out again just how lonely I can get. Because lonely is a little less worse when you have a best friend like him. But when he moves up and out and ceases to exist save for on holidays...What will I become but what I was once already before: lonely and seeking.

Why is life so goddamned cycical!? I feel like College is nothing but another beginning. I feel like JP's leaving is nothing but another beginning. When will things stop replaying? When will I get to finally say, "Okay, it's not going to start over?" When is this Mobius Strip going to straighten out and lace up and oh my God I'm so afraid. I put my faith in him, for I know nothing else to do. He's the one that's caused all of this, he'll make that which is loop'd, straight. He'll fix it. Eventually. But do I want eventually? No, goddammit. Because eventually has been his fucking response for the past 2, going on 3, years. I've been patient long enough, you've given me JP, and now you're going to take him away again. If I'm hitting for the cycle, I may as well bow out now. End it. End life. Not necessarily existence, but bow out of life. Fuck it. Quit school, quit my job, and sleep all day. That way, I can't have friends move away, I can't get rejected, I can't fail tests. Nothing bad can happen because nothing good can happen.

But what is good when it moves away or stays away or strays away?!

What is good in all this bullshit? What is good in all this bad?!

I'll crawl back into baseball season, I'll alienate myself. For nothing bad can happen if nothing good happens. And the cycle the cycle the cycle returns around and spits in my goddamned face. Because I really do feel damned.

And you assholes wonder what I do for fun!?

Allocate the harvest and Sacrifice the Living.

The sun hates the moon. It takes its time off and turns it into splendor.

I hit a curb today... Again. In my nice car, this time, too. I have to get it realigned, and I hopefully didn't crack the axle like I did the first time. In my Buick.

Whatever. I'll pay for it and suffer for it, like usual. That's what mistakes are made for. They're made for lessons. Anyway, I digress.

Digress unto what though? Was there really a central theme? No, Not really. I would like to think there was. But is there really a central theme to any of life? Or undercurrents, like religion. And subplots, like relationships and jobs and everything we think is central.

Well, yea, I guess there is. It's morbid though. It's death. That's the central theme. That's what we're living for: death. All religions, all actualizations, revolve around the theme of making whatever is after our death all the better--make the world better so that all your shit's in heaven or in the next life for the next person to inhabit your soul, to wear your pants, etcetera etcetera. Death is our ultimate goal, and y'know why? Because it's scary and it's unavoidable. So we try and make it as nice as we possibly can.

But what if we could live forever? Not like the Highlander, where they can die by another Highlander, or Elves in the Lord of the Rings, that can get killed, but rather, unable to die by any means. As in, indestructible. As in, you're here and you always will be. What great burden would that be? 1000 years with a beard, then 2000 clean-shaven. That's a lot of razors. That's a lot of time. A lot of technology. A lot of baseball. I'd get all the supposed-to-kill-you things out of the way.

I'd drop a toaster in the tub. Then jump out of an airplane and not deploy my parachute. Then put my head in a railroad track. Would the train derail? Probably.

But then what purpose would I serve?

My purpose is to die. And to help those that are afraid, less afraid. To make life a little better for others, even if it means making it a little worse for myself. I don't exist.

So praise God the father for he is reality. And he controls death! Controlling Purpose! LA ILLAHA IL ALLAHU!

Earth is Distant.

The waether is getting colder, and that only means one thing: downturn in my emotions. It gets darker and all I want to do is stay in bed all day. My production and my mood slide downhill. I'll live though.

Blue Velvet.

"Penthouse. One year, $4.75."

"Whaaaaht?"

"Yea, who said it wasn't worth it."

I'm tired, but I feel like such a sissy lala when I go to bed early on a Saturday. Cunundrum. I mean, in the last two hours, I've had three and a half cups of coffee, too, so I shouldn't be tired. But all I want to do is crawl in and read The Adventures of Augie March, and think of someone special that doesn't think the same about me, because that's how it goes I guess.

And then fall asleep writing about her because I can't fall asleep with her.

Hopeless romantic and rise up!

Alfaro Vive Carajo!

¿Conejo?

Blue Velvet

There is no such thing as a concept album. All albums have a running theme, that which was the basis of life at the time of writing one`s album.

Also, I should probably be in bed.

Smokin' Cigarettes and Watchin' Captain Kangaroo.

I often struggle with the idea of existence... If we are all of carbon, then are we not all the same? And if we are all in God's image, of God's created dust, are we not, then, God--especially if we are but mere facsimiles oh so so so distorted of the true and most beautiful Christ?

I will be the first to admit that existence would be much easier without life.

And I will be the first to state, here, that the Mountains will move come time soon, and that the Rocks with speak praises and hymns. I will say here that LOVE means more than BELIEFS. I will say that our actions in love speak louder than our words in vernacular--as in, a hug often outweighs the weight of the passive use of the verb "fuck."

It is absurd to think that Jesus\Christ came to the Earth to destroy the legalism that we have returned to. Jesus made reversals and corrolaries, not new laws entirely. Paul made suggestions, not reprieves and judgments and "musts." How holistically distorted is our perception of the Great and Wonderful Father who I often hate so much for making me me!

I will be the first to admit that I blame everything on God, yet I also praise God for everything. For he is all good and all evil and all things beyond all things. Christ and Jesus and Man of God of Man beyond all perceived reality.

I am bipolar, I am man, I am one of God's chosen.

I am weak, I cry, I suffer from too much pathos. Beware.

Kvetching towards Nirvana.

Catacomb spread out across Summer's Eve... (Not this one: )

So, okay, have you seen the commercial with Abe Lincoln playing chess with a beaver? Well, as the avid dodger fan that I am, I saw it and instantly thought, "My goodness, that's what Mark Hendrickson does in the offseason! Makes commercials!) Just check out this comparison:

Mark Hendrickson:


And the commercial (I know that by posting it I'm adhering to the ultimate marketing philosophy of "Make it good and the internet will create buzz about your product." Even worse is that it's a freakin' medication... Anyway,):



And, since we're on the topic of Mark Hendrickson, and dabbling in YouTube, here's the video of him falling off the mound earlier this season. Vin Scully said he went down like a giant Redwood tree:




That never gets old... A lot of people dislike him because he's not necessarily a great pitcher... But I've talked about this before with my friend and he think it's because he's trying to be a fastball pitcher when he should be throwing a bunch of offspeed stuff and then surprise the batter with his whopping 88MPH fastball, because, after a 75MPH curve\slider\breaking ball, it looks like a fuckin' 100MPH fireball that came from Zumaya.
(Pay close attention to the pitch-speed in the corner. Goddayum! But then again, he can't field worth a damn... So, take it with a grain of salt.)





--

If you couldn't tell, I'm bored. It's 1:25 AM, and I have no intention or need of going to bed... I could read the book I'm reading, which has been called the great American novel before, by some dude on the back cover. I just finished reading his Seize the Day, so I'm excited...

I collect books, by the way. I'm that nerdy.

Check out my Last.fm profile, see what I'm listening to, or have been listening to! Ye, ungh, word. Ethnic. World Music.

I need companionship, I am a needy, dependent soul. Will you come home to me one day?

I think Schmuck is a word that isn't used enough these days... As Safran-Foer wrote in his book, Everything is Illuminated:

"Shtetls. A shtetl is like a village." "Why don't you merely dub it a village?" "It's a Jewish word." "A Jewish word?" "Yiddish, like schmuck." "What does it mean schmuck?" "Someone who does something that you don't agree with is a schmuck." "Teach me another." "Putz." "What does that mean?" "It's like schmuck." "Teach me another." ""Schmendrik." "What does that mean?" "It's also like schmuck." "Do you know any words that are not like schmuck?" He pondered for a moment. "Shalom," he said, "which is actually three words, but that's Hebrew, not Yiddish. Everything I can think of is basically schmuck. The Eskimos have 400 words for snow, and the Jews have 400 words for Schmuck." I wondered, what is an Eskimo? (p. 60 of Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer.)

Yea, severely under-rated word... As well as author. Other underrated authors: Bukowski, Rand, AC Grayling, Bellow (why haven't I heard of him until now?!).

I think it's time to seize the motherfuckin' day.

MySpace, to link you back, those who came from there.

It's official: I've acknowledged a problem and solved it. There are parental filters on my computers now that I installed using email addresses I don't know the passwords to so that I can't get temporary passwords... Damn you Geek Squad for showing me all those ways around it!

Run like a Race Horse Sodomized

or

Synecdoche!

Is there anything worth living for anymore? Oh the love of God but it is not as strong as the love of a woman or the scent of a woman or the "I care" of a friend--all of which I feel i don't have. There seems to be no purpose, even in these the last days of my life. It feels so pointless and terrible and I hate it all. You're all a bunch of cunts but only because I have a distorted view of reality.

I can't sleep because I'm feeling like dying. I can't sleep because I am so discontent.

Maybe this is goodbye, maybe I'll finally gain the fucking balls to do it this time...

Or maybe there will be another post for another day...

Damn you, God, i just want love. I just want friendship, I just want camaraderie. Why can't you just give it to me?!

As if this will change your life.

Use life as a catalyst, not as a purgatory.

Don't be an asshole, unless someone really deserves it.

Be honest, man up when you're not.

You are perfect.

Be as pure as you can be, however you can be, whatever that may be.

Do not sit when you can stand; do not sing when you can shout.

Fear to be alone is one of the most hindering things a person can contain. Strike out on your own.

Be syllogistic and have sound reasoning.

Try not to be didactic.

Laugh more than you cry; keep the ratio as high as possible: for in laughter there are only tears of joy. Tears of sorrow will bring you more sorrow. However, everyone needs a good cry now and again. Tears of joy should roll more than tears of sorrow.

Believe.

Seek out love but do not be disheartened when it does not come in the form you preferred. The form of love God has for you is shapeless, and he will give you a love--as well as his love--that will be shapeless also.

Stretch your soul out to meet the needs of others.

Smile often, hug often--touch heals.

Eat well, be well.

Never be narrowminded or shut up inside of yourself. Always be honest.

Never be afraid.

Dick Laurent is Dead.

By the by, we extradite more often than we contain. We spill what we cannot contain, for it overflows.

We all seek love so that our cup can reach that point where nothing else can enter, because we are so full of life... We seek love because it's supposed to epitomize and, itself, contain all emotions, as if love itself is a life itself. And so, thus, vicariously, we seek our life through our seeking for love. We want affirmation and confirmation that we human and that we are alive and that we are indeed worth living another day for--love confirms that someone else thinks we're good enough to live another day. God gives us love, but a partner gives us physical love, gives us a hug when a prayer just won't do.

I can see a lot of life in you.

I want love and want life, as well, but my glass if half empty and I am 1\4ths bullshit.

You look beautiful.

Bird Stealing Bread.

150 days until baseball season starts.

Go Clippers.

I almost got 34 hours of work next week, but the GM had a bitch fit. Ugh, I want money to buy me hoes.

In in one of those moods where everything comes out a curse word. I could say "comma x" and it'd sound like "cunty cunt mcFucks a lot."

I don't know why I swear so much, I guess it's purely indoctrination of what my family thinks is okay, and to them, swearing is okay. Swearing, to them, is part and parcel--comes with the territory. It's like that twisted oak down by the river on your fifty acres of farm in the Salinas Valley: it just comes with the territory (and would be a great place to commit suicide.)

Charles worked hard, had calloused hands, and died a lonely cook.

If I drive to school at the right time, I pass bus #7, which has some Spanish radio talent named "El Cucuy." I'm glad Mancow's Morning Madhouse got cancelled, because of El Cucuy.

It's nearing 1AM, I have school tomorrow, I can't sleep. I should get drunk and pass out. But I want to be a church patron, church leader, and not drinking now is definitely a good place to start.

Both defiance and submission will wind you up in Hell. In room 101.

All those bullshit cunts were faking tenacity.

Intransigence.

Nights for all those insomniacs and you. Notes to the dawn and letters to the sea, a marriage of glass-bottle and sea-salt proportions. Grow up and walk out and drown out all fears.

Tessla's mortal coil.

And I'm still waiting for Godot.

Shake and Shake and Shake you...

With a soul so blue, it's indigo, and on a night like tonight, where festivities run hot, I've been given a great chance to see just what life could be...

With breasts spilling out and beer flowing and passing around, I decide to venture into typical fun as per my co-workers. The girls were dressed in corset excuses for costumes, the guys dressed as everything, most with twice to three times more clothes on than the girls. The scent of mild cigarettes hung in the air. Music playing so loud that it denoted urgency.

And I feel worse now than I did before, with any form of happiness seduced into the air like all those carcinogens. There was no fun at that party, there's no fun at any party: just bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Just a bunch of cunts, standing around and drinking their clothes off.

When people ask me what I do and I say, "nothing really...I mean, I live a very mundane life..." I know I'm better off as I am than as they are because as they are just isn't who I am.

But, then again, who am I?

Evan

It seems that I've come into my awkward phase, only this time it's social. Sure, I was once awkward-looking, in Jr. High, as I grew into my skin and grew taller, etc, but now it seems like I have no skin or new skin...socially...

I used to get along splendidly with everyone, until things like alcohol and sex came into the mix. Then, I realized that I didn't want to be an idiot and do those types of things. They make people stupid and it bothers me. Alot. Especially when most girls my age are into that kind of thing and that leaves me out to dry, because I am, of course, on the finite hunt for love. It will come, but I don't her to be a drunkard.

But then the coin flips. And on that side are the Christians. Those that are so conservative that I have to shackle myself up so as not offend them, because I want a good image. It's frustrating because I'm awkward everyone now.

But that's just how it goes, I guess... It'll one day end, I know, but at the same time, I'm young and I'm supposed to be living it up. How, when "living it up" seems to be a decision between locking myself up tight and opening myself all the way open. I want drinkers who don't drink, Christians who aren't christian. As in, I want people who are moral yet aren't completely and utterly offended by the word "fuck." I want people who are sober thinkers, not drunk contortionists or pious closemindedness.

And that type of medium doesn't seem to exist. I feel like a cunt when I don't accept someone's offer for a beer, and I feel like a cunt when I go to a good party. How does it then want to be?

That light is God.

She was caught up in the Christ of my past. And why would I want to regress?

--
Jeremy Enigk and Aaron Weiss, together, on O Porcupine, is bliss. When Enigk goes all crazy screaming and Weiss calmly states, "I never gathered figs from a thorny branch, I never picked a grapefruit from the bramble bush and for the past five, almost six years now, you know you haven't once looked at me with kindness in your eyes. And you say Judas is a brother of mine? But sister in our darkness a light shines! And all i ever want to say for the rest of my life is how that light is God, and though I've been mistan on this or that point, that light is nevertheless God."

It's like a euphoria that comes near the end of a steam train of an album, as weak as it is. Brother Sister is definitely not as good or as engaging or as rocking as Catch for us the Foxes, but it does get the point across: mewithoutYou is happy. I dunno, though, having only one, maybe two songs, that equate to the slam-dance-fest of Foxes is a little disappointing. And the guitar part repetition gets annoying. It's a weak album, as if they're creating a facsimile or copy or something of a mewithoutYou album, like they're just getting their feet wet, like this is only the prelude to their next album that will be full blown ape-shit insane.

But having Enigk and Weiss on one track makes all the bunk. Because they're my favorites. And they're together.

--

Evangelism ain't my thang. Discipleship and connection is.

The Calling of Ezekiel.

All the science, all the biology, is well and fine, dear. Yes. It's all nice.

But does it explain the soul? That epitome, that apex so far down and so far up that its existence is as crucial as the heart's?

The soul is, definitely, different. The Heart, it is real, tangible, on all those charts--and then it is transformed into a metaphor for valor and bravery, etc. The mind, too, is that pudding inside our head that controls everything we do--and then is transformed into a metaphor for our thoughts and our will-to-do.

But the soul! Oh! It is metaphor through and through for it cannot be caught and biopsied. It cannot be seen in any of its forms for they are all metaphysical, they are all beyond science. The soul's of man are what make God exist.

For God is beyond science.

The Souls of man are what prove God exists.

God exists because he is my soul.

If I had no God, if I had no soul, if at the bottom of me, deep down and at the bottom of my wishing well of emotions, down past the mind and heart, if there was merely a great divide, merely air, merely soveirgnty, I would be nothing.

But there is something there--a great love. A great cloud. A great foundation to hold the great weight of all my heart's desires and my mind's worry. It is the resting place of all things that man takes upon itself, it is here that solitude is gained.

God is in my well, and, that far down, we are all the same. We are all connected. The catacombs of my soul stretch out from my barrel of a chest and into you and yours and through and through and through all life still and reviving and working and plowing.

We are all connected. We are all the same. We are all proof that God truly exists.

For if we all love ourselves, and we are all connected, then we are all one, and we all love ourselves so, so well.

Faith and humility.

Death from Above 1979, they're okay..

Christ is the basis of Christianity. The foundational beliefs are: Love God, and loves others. The different denominations of the church take all the minor things like money and science and variable societal things and adhere to them as they see the bible sees fit. That's why we have different Christian churches.

Because every body needs arms and legs and Episcopalians. Hair to pull out, branches to ingraft.

What if the body of Christ has a weave?

Sun and the Moon

Not knowing what to think, I set out on this haberdasher of an essay, contrite and filled with love for all things I've lost.

Who's to say, though, really?

Isn't sleep deprivation a decent type of amphetamine to the writing cortex?

Settle in, think, listen to the music, maybe not the lyrics. The lyrics will deprave your creativity because you will use their words.

Horse piss.

Oh Evan, all these thoughts.

I've figured out that I have a problem with being employed at a place like Best Buy. My problem is that I have to adhere to someone elses method and ideology for eight hours during the day, adhere to someone else's way of thinking, I have to conform and cannot break free whatsoever or else I will get fired. I hate that. I hate capitalism. I hate the fact that the Geek Squad passes off their services as absolutely philanthropic, yet, at the same time, our hands are often tied without cash involved.

Best Buy is run like a casino. There are no clocks. The more money you spend, the faster and easier service will be for you. We had two $300 orders that we hurriedly finished before everyone else because we need to make revenue. Even then, they didn't pick it up that night. Those willing to put down the money will get the service best. Those that are high-rollers will get the free suites and drinks.

And I hate it.

Because I know that this is how all retail is run--with the intent to kill. Kill their pocketbooks. Kill their morality. Blur that line between need and want. Make them think that they need that badass HDTV. Make them think we know what we're doing. It's all bullshit.

And I hate it.

But, then again, it's a job. And they pay me. And we do our services very well when we do them since nobody likes having angry customers. I'd recommend it if you absolutely need it. We'll take care of you.

Horse Piss.

What the hell is with that?

he took my shoulders and he shook my face

Here it is: 12:30 AM, Friday morning. I've got a solid five and a half hours to sleep before another Friday of School til 230 and then work from 3:30 to 10:30. Another 20 hour day away from my home.

And yet I am awake.

And not only awake, but fully clothed and sitting at a computer.

Why, Evan, why?

Because you're worrying your petty little head about pretty significant things that need no worrying (wives and college credits and cash and jobs and my future in general) because God and only God has control and full knowledge of this stuff? Why are you worrying?

Why now when you should be resting yourself for the day to come!

Because rest only comes to those who are content. I am not content. I am not content with solid wages and a solid job. With college. With a life that should be content-worthy. I should be able to, with my current situation, be able to look at my life and say, "That's very good. I am pleased." But, no.

Because, as usual, you are only going to point out and dwell upon the bad and\or the intangible. That's just what you do, Evan. When things are going right, when things are content, things are at their worst because you have more time to thing about everything in the future that can worry you (college credits and getting a wife) when in all reality you have a solid 6 years before these worries should actually set in. If you're 24 and still have no bachelors, then, okay. Worry yourself to death. If you're 24 and without a spouse, worry yourself shitless. I don't care! But, right now, when you can barely grow chest hair? When you're just now newly fascinated with your facial hair? Why the hell are you worrying about this bullshit?

I'll tell you why. I'm worrying about this now because I want it as soon as possible. I want to be seriously involved with someone by 19, and engaged to them by 22. I want to be in seminary by 22 and out by 24. Because by 24, in six years, I want to be complete with all this shit. Because in six years I want life to start. I want to be able to look back on and satirize all this hard work I've pushed through. If I am 24 and single and still working at Best Buy, I will be even more worried. And probably even more suicidal. I want life. I want authorship. I want ownership. I want a condo in Pasadena with a woman whom I am wedded to and who wakes up with me every morning. I'm so tired of starting over and simply wetting my feet with life. By 24, I want to not be wet at the ankles, but drowning at the head! "If I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down parched!"

The Trees of the Field will Clap their Hands

Bureaucracy. Literally "drawer-cracy." All these drawers, all these litigations and forms and legal proceedings just to get to Jesus.

I thought Christian meant "christ-like?" I thought that to be Christ-like was to act like Christ, going to those exiled by society and showing love and self-sacrifice? When did Christian become pious cliques of white kids in suburbia not reaching out, not getting out of their shell but once a year?

You can't show true love to those you've known. It comes in its form to strangers.

Bureaucracy created churches that I just don't feel comfortable at. Bureaucracy created churches with Jesus as an asterisked footnote. Hype for Jesus. "Who the hell is Jesus? I'm here for the free pizza!"

It's so complex, but I know that I'll figure out how I stand on ministry by the time I get into ministry full time.

I'm scared as a Dog but I've got a new song, and I want y'all to sing along....

Between watching David Lynch's Lost Highway, and having a cold, I've hallucinated into clarity all my lust and adulterous feelings. It's emptiness--it's all sadness balled up into a few quick glances and dreams of arreolas and waking up next to one another in the hope of feeling not-so-lonely anymore...

Lust is a loneliness vessel, carrying through the deep and dark all the loneliness we only want to admit subconsciously with glances and thoughts and plans of love and hard-ons and cervices. It is inner-and-outer loneliness contained within our eyes and minds.

But when the story's over, you're still lonely. When the story's completed, you've come back around to tell yourself that you're still alone, you've circled out in front of your face, and back in through the left-ear, with the same old story: you're lonely and adulterous until you've found her.

Her is the one that will finally see that apparition that circles out of your right ear, and she will grab it and consume it, and drag you into her, and you will grab hers and consume it with all your life. And your two adulterous and longing and lonely souls will be one forever.

That's why I'm still a virgin. Why I'm holding off until I marry. I'm only going to go the distance with Her that has my soul within her belly. And when I have hers within my belly. And we are content like wolves...

Comedians

This was the obvious choice to do a mere 5 minutes after my singer choices... Notes on my favorite comedians...

Dave Attell - The grossest and most comedically bigoted person you ever hear grace the stage. His style of shock-humor never ceases to make people laugh in spite of their predispositions of "This is against everything I'm supposed to laugh at, that I believe in..." He will offend you, and then he will make you laugh.

Mitch Hedberg - The King of Wry. His delivery was very deadpan and his jokes about the microbial workings of life were often so true and grounded in common sense that they couldn't help but be funny because you realize the truth that was hidden underneath the whole time. But the bastard had to die. Hooray drugs!

Stephen Colbert - His satire of the hated-Right-Wing of politics is so dead-on that, even though he doesn't do much standup, he deserves to be on this list. His speech at the White House Correspondents' dinner was done Standing Up, so he counts.

Demetri Martin - A new favorite that, like Mitch Hedberg, points out the microbial truths in life, but does it sometimes to guitar and glockenspiel or accompanied by a sketch pad. Very creative and very funny.

People that didn't make the list for going mainstream and suddenly turning to crap: Dane Cook; People that didn't make the list for being far too esoteric: George Lopez.

Singers

A few thoughts on some of my favorite singers...

Bob Dylan - He's versatile, first off. Between Highway 61, Nashville Skyline and Modern Times, his voice has drastically changed. That's pretty cool that he can go with the flow of his life and accomodate his music.

Jeremy Enigk (Sunny Day Real Estate & The Fire Theft) - It's weird, his voice is very intoxicating. It's hypnotic and beckoning. I've had times where I HAVE to listen to SDRE or The Fire Theft because I heard something similar to him or his guest appearance on the new mewithoutYou CD, and suddenly, my soul beckons to hear his flowing emotion...

Sufjan Stevens - He sings and he plays the freakin' oboe. That's all you need to know. He's a very talented musician who can write a song about anything and make it sound interesting.

Aaron Weiss (mewithoutYou) - Between [A-->B] Life and Brother, Sister, his voice has softened and become more emotional to reveal his soul. As Bob Dylan's voice accomodates music, the music accomodates Weiss' voice. He can't sing well, but he can convey emotion and write very very poetic songs, so he's up there.

Cedric Bixler-Zavala - So, okay. Amputechture absolutely sucks. Now that that's clear, he's a decent singer who tries too hard sometimes, both musically and ideologically, and who can enlighten you if you try and find out the meanings of some of his songs.

--

So there's only four. Honorable mentions that were knocked off because of their lacking song-writing abilities: Claudio Sanchez (Coheed and Cambria), Davey Havoc (AFI); artists left off for trying to swim in the Mississippi River with clothes on: Jeff Buckley.

A little while back I wrote an essay entitled "The Difference," that highlighted the difference between being Christ-like and being a Christian.

I'll admit, that essay failed you the reader.

It didn't offer the solution, it only implied it.

Here's the solution: We must bridge the gap between the pious and the profane, to accept and realize we are all one, that we are all the same. We are one body (Romans 12), and we are all Saints (Ephesians 1). Love one another. And bridge the gap between striving to be Christ-like and being a Christian. Too many Christians take it lightly.

So Stop Taking it Lightly. Seek God with all your heart. That's the only solution. Then there will be no need for sections of the Church when we are all one body (1 Cor. 12), for we all do our part.

I am your mouth, you are my ear.

Plowing

Existence is based solely on your state of mind.

I do not exist for I am merely a facsimile, a mere bastard copy of God in a human body, caught up within my stupid, idiot sin.

How it is and how it will be

In talking recently with an ex-girlfriend who exuded most of the qualities of a woman I would want to marry (that's all I'm in it for now), I realized something: I've narrowed the pool to damn near puddle. Consider this: I want a girl who's a virgin, who doesn't drink doesn't smoke, is a Christian, takes God seriously. And I'm 18. That's two things: How am I going to find a virgin, even now, unless she's a conservative, pious, bitch. That's what I'm going to end up marrying, what I think is now a pious and conservative bitch.

I'm as liberal and extremist as they come, and I'm going to seemingly be chained to the right in some sort of circular haze.

But wait, Evan, if you exist, then she must exist!

Oh hell, I'm fucked.

I was once the wine.

In my Eng. 101 class we had to read Azar Nafisi's "Reading Lolita in Tehran," which discussed a group of female students who met in a secret classroom to discuss literature in a setting where the can shed their head-coverings and their inhibitions.

In the class, we started to discuss all the freedoms of Americans, and that got me wondering: What is worse, the blatant atrocities of the then Islamic Republic of Iran, or the subversive prejudice hate-and-fear tactics of the American government?

I mean, sure, they're openly persecuted, by the police state and the Islamic Legalism, but not by the people. In America the hate is drilled into the people by the media and suddenly it's no longer the government but the people that are the assholes, the prejudiced. The government plants the seed and it germinates into 1940's German lynchings and Japanese internment camps to perhaps protect them from the hatred of the average American. I can imagine that the average American woman, since "That Fateful Day," has had their level of hatred to both Middle-Easterns and Muslims. But an average Iranian woman hates the government, and they just force it upon their people.

Well? What would you rather have?

Just to pass the time....

I recommend you go out and get the new mewithoutYou CD, if not for the lyrics, than for the music...

It's amazing.

"I'm still waiting to meet a girl like my Mom but who's closer to my age."

Vicarious Atonement

I pray that all things I've said and will say are of You, oh God, oh Father. Keep me whole, keep me as your saint, keep me from blasphemy. I want to teach your message of unity and love, not a worldly partisan view--of vicarious atonement through our prayers and through Christ. As Paul said, all things are from You and through You and to You--and, thus, unity it is. Religion means nothing, You means everything.

May yours be the glory forever, Amen.

Being Christ-like doesn't ordane you Christian, it ordanes you as a better person, seeking better life. Anyone of any religion can attain enlightenment, and, since all things are through God, a man can attain enlightened saint-hood via any religion, any road.

Why does only one religion have to be right?

Will you carry me across the sea....?

John 14:6 was God, whom Jesus is part and parcel of. It was God saying, "No one gets to God but through God." If we ca believe in a trinity, why can't we believe in a polynity? Jesus's death was the final atonement, the final sacrifice, the final need for any sort of enlightenment. Prophesy will still remain, but new religions will pass away. I need to find biblical evidence for that one.

Religious boundaries make sense in the context of human life. We cannot fathom something without boudnaries. We write in paragraphs, end our sentences with periods. We live in countries and are afraid of supposed aliens.

Thus, closed religious thought follows suit to all we live.

But doesn't God transcend all we live...?

I hate to come back to inclusionistic thinking, but that's how it goes, I guess...

Volume 1 a huge success! Gearing up for Winter!

By popular demand, work has started on Winter and All, 2006! That's the new issue to come out in the Winter of We are all Serial Killers!

We've had great feedback! It's a hit! They love us!

Air1's Response

Dear Friend,

We appreciate the time you took to share your perspective with us. I'll
pass on your message to Programming.

May God bless you in a special way today.

Laurie Davidson
Correspondence Assistant to Programming

--

I wonder if programming will send me something...?

Message sent to Air1, regarding my previous essay.

In 2004, I was an avid listener to Air1, absorbing all its messages, all its factions, all of its often-conservative push and lean and pull.

The drug-related testimonies really dug into me like a dull blade, creating a gash that was tattered around the edges and orange with contempt--Can we not have God without the drugs? Are we allowed a Christ which we are led to without the negative influence shoving us into his loving arms? Why didn't I ever hear that?

I stopped listening, though, around December, 2004. The station has become a joke since then--turn it on to hear the same old songs from 2004, with a marginal chance of hearing something new.

Your music's message has grown stagnant: A homogenous faith that is naught but what one person believes it to be. One view, one mind, one God. But the one God can be interpreted an infinite amount of ways. He is God, we are human. And my faith has grown away from Air1, from your message--not because it's blasphemy, but because it's stale.

You may choose to retort with the fact that bands have yet to release a new album in a few years (Like Barlow Girl). But then I also bring up FM Static's song "Crazy Mary" which was just recently played this morning [9\26\06 2:00 AM], according to your recent plays list. It was played despite the fact that there are 12 new songs from their Album "Critically Ashamed" to be played.

Sure, other radio stations have repetition, but at least it's indicative of what's current, what's new. There's an ebb and flow to Christianity, there's an ebb and flow to music, there's relativity to everything...

Except, seemingly, Air1, who stubbornly stays put with their old songs and their same-old message. Yes, Jesus died on the cross. Yes, I want a faith like that, to see the dead rise, etcetera. But what about the effects of faith on life? What about the struggles, the doubts of the infallibility, what about the trite, collective, "I'm sorrys" that often come with lulls in Christians as they all, in conjunction, realize their faults, and have their doubts.

Where are your doubts, Air1?

--

They apparently get 5000 emails a month, so I may have to wait awhile for a response. But I'll definitely post their response once I receive it. And I will get one... Unlike the emails I sent to Ray Comfort, the renowned Christian Evangelist. I had so many questions, that only he could answer, because those were his beliefs, and yet he never responded to me. But if I do get a response, I'll make damn sure to post that one too.

No response, no feedback, no discussion--just one person, on his soap box, speechifying, expecting everyone in the arena to be in agreeance... When most are in grievance.

No big Church.

The Truth Belongs to God, the mistakes were Mine

It's been said that there are often moments in our life where all our thought, all our energy is suddenly transmuted down the channel towards our soul. All the thickets of education pushed away, and drifting down and into ourselves we go...

On Broadway and 19th, SSE of Dodger Stadium.

Los Angeles. 2006.

A small Mexican Restaurant, hailed by my father and escalated to greatness. With a yellow and red patio, and a small kitchen, we were contextually misplaced--far too white.
We order, we wait. We take pictures, we feel like tourists. The small parking lot is splayed with farm-animal murals. Cows, chickens, pigs.

Carnitas Burrito.

The horse is fast. 17 to one.

In this dinginess, in this bum-sorrow of half-way poverty, I see it: my soul. Sifting down the cement LA River, I see myself, within myself... I see the empty beds: drought and sorrow. I see the small weeds, shooting through the walls, I see the movies filming with lights and smoke and tenacity just about the Ten Freeway.

Dingy, and dank, and the burrito is delicious.

Out of the gate, the trumpet is sounding the Charge.
I bite in and see all this for seconds, and it disappears--everything disappears into meat and beans and rice and rivers of dreams deferred and controlled and winding South through the city's organic landscape on trial for depravity.

So trivial, so lost!

Drifting down, drifting down, I am caught up in the current--going down Moses towards the bathing woman who will adopt and love me. A wife, a lover, a home, a finale.

Oh Caveat of Gambling against all those odds to see within!

1\5th to the Commonwealth, and the Rest to the Track!

In Southern California, and across the nation, there is a Christian radio station poignantly called "Air1 Radio." They are a radio-station run by the donations of customers (who probably feel that they can tithe to this corporation instead of their local church), and one that has brought up a point to me concerning Christian culture.
In 2004, I listened to this radio station with vigor, trying to be a good Christian boy. Sure, some of the songs got old, but I figured it would change, and it was not like it was the only radio station. However, by the end of that year, when I had realized that all the music was not very good, and that it all had the same homogenous faith in Jesus message (but faith is relative to the person, ye naysayers!), I stopped listening to this station. It got old, plain and simple. It got to be overbearing, bland, and downright silly. I took them out of my programmed radio stations, and have not listened to them much since.
What has happened though, is that, now, two years later, I can change to that station at any given time and, 9 times out of 10, hear one of the same songs I heard in 2004, as if there need not be new music since there is not a new bible, not a new message, not a new struggle--one faith under God. With songs that have been playing out their welcome for two years, with the same ideals being passed around, with the same voices being heard and new ideas not being acknowledged, the problem has pronounced itself:
There is stagnancy in the Christian church. The waves have stopped crashing against the sand, the undercurrent of thought has slowed to breaking.
Our faith is supposed to be living, it is supposed to be growing as we ask and seek and knock. The only reason Paul thanks God for the Thessalonians is because their faith was growing, not because their faith had grown and plateaued. It is true, yes, that faith does often plateau, but it is still supposed to be that we are to escape this mesa, and turn it back into a mountain.
But how are we to turn flat into angled when all life reflects society?
I guess it's time to call them out on this type of bullshit. No movement, no current, no waves, no truth.

Lost in the Rain in Juarez, and it's Eastertime, too.

There should be no need for bumperstickers of WWJD, no bracelets, nothing to pronounce your faith. No ticket stubs from new FoxFaith movies soon to be debuting. Christian faith is supposed to be the inside glowing out from every pore of your body, not an adornment on your body or on your car...

All those crosses, all those shirts, all those John 3:16 posters, all those amusements that loudly proclaim that "I have Jesus, and, if you did too, you could legitimately wear this kind-of-badass T-Shirt," all those things are just a ploy for the piety that the Bible calls us against. We're supposed to be humble like Jesus Christ, as Christians who are supposed to be Christ-like--humble even in the way we represent our faith. What starts as a whisper, often gains steam and becomes movement, but a shout often echoes off the canyons and dies away, much like a fad, much like The Passion of the Christ.

Syllogistic Reasoning for the Existence of God

If love is real, and if God is love*, then God is real.

*1 John 4:8

Success!

The first issue (of hopefully many) of We are all Serial Killers has been released for $5.99. Available through Lulu.com, the topics covered in this issue include politics and leftist theosophy (as well as premature ejaculation for all you lovers out there!)

The cover image is below!

I know the title is bleak, but it's true. If all sins are equal, then we have all committed murder: murder of people's dreams, murder of people's hearts, etc. We all kill though we are all called to love. We all are running from something (serial killers from the police, from our "dreams deferred"), and now you can no longer run from BUYING THE FIRST ISSUE!

A Certain Type of Madness

On the day that I write this essay, August 24, 2006, the United States of America is currently involved in a non-war: Operation Iraqi Freedom. We have been involved in this war for three and a half years and suddenly all the proponents are tiring. They were expecting a short war--since that is what operation insinuates: that whatever we doing under that euphemism will be quick, to the point, and we will have ejaculated, far removed and asleep by 2006.
But that has not been the case.

The case is that we are stuck in the mire, fighting for our own American freedom. Or at least that's what many supporters of the war--ahem, operation--have stated. We are fighting for all our liberties because these terrorists can take them away, we are fighting for Nationalist convictions.

A conviction that is often perceived as a religion.

It takes a nation, makes it sovereign, as a god, as an idol and compels its citizens to believe in its cause, be it strong as in the 1940's or weak as in our times. Nationalism is the true religion of a nation, making it to be supreme over all people, all laws, all decisions, all wills, all life.

The moment in our history when this type of National Sovereignty was the most evident was when, in 2001, the Patriot Act was passed which was, admittedly, a good move for the nation during a time of crisis, to keep the terrorists down via terrorism, but not a good move for the individual citizen since it collapsed many aspects of our rights for a period of time. At this point, Congress and the Senate had a lapse and forgot that each person matters just as much as national security--this was the reason why the Bill of Rights was created: to protect the individual rights before the state's protection, before the state’s rights.

When the Constitution was created, the emphasis because our Founding Fathers had come from backgrounds of monarchal oppression and saw how it destroyed the citizens and the individuals.

Nationalism does this same thing: it creates a godhead for everyone to worship, much like a metaphysical emperor. In that manner, then, nationalism is nothing but regressing back to the tyrannical days of the dictator and forgetting all we know about democracy.

In that vain, we come to religion. In Christianity, one of the underlying principles is the inerrancy of both the Bible and God--that both are without errors and holistically perfect--and nationalism and patriotism hold this same philosophy: that the government can do no wrong, that the nation can do no wrong, that everything done in Washington D.C. is completely God-bred and God-given.

What this point of view fails to realize is that the nation is nothing but a group of individuals comprised to think of the best for the soil and for its people, two different subjects. And since it is individuals coming together, there is always room for the human element, the human error, the accident.

Everything is for a reason, but an accident must create the purpose first.

Nationalists believe that the Nation, as in this group in Washington D.C., is without any sort of human error, any sort of fault--inerrant. As a result, religion must be removed from politics.

Now, it is obvious that secularity is an aspect of communism, but it is also one aspect that worked; without religion, there is no bias, no prejudice, no guilt about WWJD. Without religion in the government, there would be a furthering of stem-cell research and we would not begin to be surpassed by Singapore and China in this now-vital aspect of science.

There would be abortion, the allowance for the woman to say, "It's my vagina, let me make the decision."

But, even without religion, we would have ethics, and, apparently, ethics tells us that this is murder, that killing a second-trimester child is murder, that the child has no decision and therefore should not be allowed when in all reality, to flip the tables, a parent has no choice concerning whether or not their child will commit suicide. So should suicide be outlawed?

What if a woman wants to abort her baby at home with a wire coat-hangar and claim still-birth, Is that illegal? It's her vagina, her choice.

With a secular government, we would more and more be furthering the individual's rights because we would not be conscious of any sort of command by God in the Congress, which in and of itself, is absurd. God has no part in politics. He was on both sides of World War II, remember?

And if God is all about the individual, the personal relationships, should not politics be the same way, especially if it is constantly emulating God himself and sovereignty...? If God is all about the individual, why have we killed between 40 and 45,000 civilian Militiamen in Iraq?
In perspective, the only thing any sort of Middle Eastern terrorist has done recently (failed attacks and deserved shootings aside) is kill 3,000 in New York on September 11 of 2001, the most in any recent terrorist attack. 3,000 people and two collapsed buildings reminiscent of Henry Cameron's Dana Tower are the reason for the United States and its Affiliate companies killing in Iraq while only a meager 2,692 Americans have been killed. Therefore, taking the minimum of 40,000 Iraqis, we have a 37,000 death deficit. We have killed 37,000 more than anyone has in that region, 40,000 more than any Iraqi killed on "that fateful day." And, on top of that, almost 3,000 volunteers have died serving the country. The death tolls do not match up, and neither does the reason for being there:

No WMD's;

No act of God;

No Holy War;

No loss of freedom because of them.

All this nationalism has created an American Government’s pet project to spread its influence into that region of the world so that they can wear Tommy Hilfiger jeans and eat McDonald's hamburgers.

Just a capitalistic need hindered by a heavily unbalanced death count. Death for profit! Death to Capitalism!

(But if not capitalism, then what? If not greed and business and white-collar crime and scandal, then what? Communism failed. Fascism failed. Dictatorial systems failed. All other systems have failed. We cannot completely revamp John Locke. Perhaps we could tone it down, and vamp up another New Deal with Socialistic Programs to help the poor since when the poor get money they have to spend it somewhere. And then, in turn, we will continue the capitalistic attack on this Earth but with better intentions. But I digress.)

So, then, it must be the American Government that has removed our liberties that we are fighting to keep. Ahhh, yes—you knew we would reach this point: The Patriot Act: the most controversial legislation passed since Roe v. Wade was gaveled. Free-range, warrant-free wiretaps and record searches all done in secrecy.

Searching and wiretapping and stalking because of the fear of subversion.

Removing our liberties because it is war time, which is nothing new... But removing our liberties during an Operation that is built around protecting our liberties?

Oh my how paradoxical it all becomes!

...But not paradoxical all at the same time since it wouldn’t be paradoxical if we acknowledged, openly, that we were fighting for entrepreneurial gain in the region. If we finally admitted that it were for OPEC or for Coca-Cola or for Burger King, I would finally be okay with this war.

But, like the beginning of the Civil War, our president has to hide behind false idioms and reasons because not every Northerner wanted to free the slaves. Not every American wants the country at war.

Why can't the President just state Operation Iraqi Freedom is for the abolition of slavery?
Oh, wait. That is why we brought down Saddam Hussein...or was it paternal vindication...or was it oil...or was it corporate...or was it terrorists...or was it...

These Next Few Years

Currently pursuing this life plan:

Bachelor's Degree in Philosophy with the emphasis in Religious Studies

MA in Theology

Make Children\Procreate

Doctorate in Theology.

Make Money.


The Christian Existentialist's dream is quickly becoming a reality.

Kierkegaard, you're gonna have a run for your money.

What new mystery is this?

First in a month

Here I sit,

at a computer that is brand new,

one which I barely know...

Off to college!

Had to get one!

Oh bullshit,

it's a computer I don't really need,

and I know that... paper would have

and always has

sufficed.

But then again,

I'm a horrible

or

ga

ni

zer

and so maybe this can help me

make that

grade

that everyone

has their butt-cheeks squeezed taut over.

I'm not sure, though,

maybe I should have waited a week to determine the workload,

taken a day off?

no, not this early in the semester,

although this is when it’d be the simplest.

Get a syllabus,

do the work,

fuck'em.

Use Mordecai

(Maybe he shoulda been named ICHIRO!!! since it's branded Japanese.)

and live.

Get to seminary,

make some cash money

anally raping people out of theirs

at a consumer electronics store...

And finally reading the Fucking Sound and the Fury

Oh Faulkner.

Faulkner it all indeed.

...and I shake the Dirt from my Sandals...

Here's an interesting article my friend sent me-- I didn't write it. The guy who did (and credit is definitely due) is at the bottom--Robert Jensen.

There's a link at the end of one of the paragraphs (this one:http://www.gregpalast.com/detail.cfm?artid=217&row=2). Don't overlook it. It will shock you as well.

There is no freedom in war.


***

ZNet Commentary
Constraining history/controlling knowledge August 14, 2006
By Robert Jensen

One way to measure the fears of people in power is by the intensity of their quest for certainty and control over knowledge.

By that standard, the members of the Florida Legislature marked themselves as the folks most terrified of history in the United States when last month they took bold action to become the first state to outlaw historical interpretation in public schools. In other words, Florida has officially replaced the study of history with the imposition of dogma and effectively outlawed critical thinking.

Although U.S. students are typically taught a sanitized version of history in which the inherent superiority and benevolence of the United States is rarely challenged, the social and political changes unleashed in the 1960s have opened up some space for a more honest accounting of our past. But even these few small steps taken by some teachers toward collective critical self-reflection are too much for many Americans to bear.

So, as part of an education bill signed into law by Gov. Jeb Bush, Florida has declared that "American history shall be viewed as factual, not as constructed." That factual history, the law states, shall be viewed as "knowable, teachable and testable."

Florida's lawmakers are not only prescribing a specific view of U.S. history that must be taught (my favorite among the specific commands in the law is the one about instructing students on "the nature and importance of free enterprise to the United States economy"), but are trying to legislate out of existence any ideas to the contrary. They are not just saying that their history is the best history, but that it is beyond interpretation. In fact, the law attempts to suppress discussion of the very idea that history is interpretation.

The fundamental fallacy of the law is in the underlying assumption that "factual" and "constructed" are mutually exclusive in the study of history. There certainly are many facts about history that are widely, and sometimes even unanimously, agreed upon. But how we arrange those facts into a narrative to describe and explain history is clearly a construction, an interpretation. That's the task of historians -- to assess factual assertions about the past, weave them together in a coherent narrative, and construct an explanation of how and why things happened.

For example, it's a fact that Europeans began coming in significant numbers to North America in the 17th century. Were they peaceful settlers or aggressive invaders? That's interpretation, a construction of the facts into a narrative with an argument for one particular way to understand those facts.

It's also a fact that once those Europeans came, the indigenous people died in large numbers. Was that an act of genocide? Whatever one's answer, it will be an interpretation, a construction of the facts to support or reject that conclusion.

In contemporary history, has U.S. intervention in the Middle East been aimed at supporting democracy or controlling the region's crucial energy resources? Would anyone in a free society want students to be taught that there is only one way to construct an answer to that question?

Speaking of contemporary history, what about the fact that before the 2000 presidential election, Florida's Republican secretary of state removed 57,700 names from the voter rolls, supposedly because they were convicted felons and not eligible to vote. It's a fact that at least 90 percent were not criminals -- but were African American. It's a fact that black people vote overwhelmingly Democratic. What conclusion will historians construct from those facts about how and why that happened?http://www.gregpalast.com/detail.cfm?artid=217&row=2

In other words, history is always constructed, no matter how much Florida's elected representatives might resist the notion. The real question is: How effectively can one defend one's construction? If Florida legislators felt the need to write a law to eliminate the possibility of that question even being asked, perhaps it says something about their faith in their own view and ability to defend it.

One of the bedrock claims of the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment -- two movements that, to date, have not been repealed by the Florida Legislature -- is that no interpretation or theory is beyond challenge. The evidence and logic on which all knowledge claims are based must be transparent, open to examination. We must be able to understand and critique the basis for any particular construction of knowledge, which requires that we understand how knowledge is constructed.

Except in Florida.

But as tempting as it is to ridicule, we should not spend too much time poking fun at this one state, because the law represents a yearning one can find across the United States. Americans look out at a wider world in which more and more people reject the idea of the United States as always right, always better, always moral. As the gap between how Americans see themselves and how the world sees us grows, the instinct for many is to eliminate intellectual challenges at home: "We can't control what the rest of the world thinks, but we can make sure our kids aren't exposed to such nonsense."

The irony is that such a law is precisely what one would expect in a totalitarian society, where governments claim the right to declare certain things to be true, no matter what the debates over evidence and interpretation. The preferred adjective in the United States for this is "Stalinist," a system to which U.S. policymakers were opposed during the Cold War. At least, that's what I learned in history class.

People assume that these kinds of buffoonish actions are rooted in the arrogance and ignorance of Americans, and there certainly are excesses of both in the United States.

But the Florida law -- and the more widespread political mindset it reflects -- also has its roots in fear. A track record of relatively successful domination around the world seems to have produced in Americans a fear of any lessening of that dominance. Although U.S. military power is unparalleled in world history, we can't completely dictate the shape of the world or the course of events. Rather than examining the complexity of the world and expanding the scope of one's inquiry, the instinct of some is to narrow the inquiry and assert as much control as possible to avoid difficult and potentially painful challenges to orthodoxy.

Is history "knowable, teachable and testable"? Certainly people can work hard to know -- to develop interpretations of processes and events in history and to understand competing interpretations. We can teach about those views. And students can be tested on their understanding of conflicting constructions of history.

But the real test is whether Americans can come to terms with not only the grand triumphs but also the profound failures of our history. At stake in that test is not just a grade in a class, but our collective future.

Robert Jensen is a journalism professor at the University of Texas at Austin and board member of the Third Coast Activist Resource Center http://thirdcoastactivist.org/. He is the author of The Heart of Whiteness: Race, Racism, and White Privilege and Citizens of the Empire: The Struggle to Claim Our Humanity (both from City Lights Books). He can be reached at rjensen@uts.cc.utexas.edu .