mysonabsalom's Xanga

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 12:29:50 GMT

Well, well, well.

A new start .

Everyone has a complaint about something

Tue, 29 Aug 2006 07:28:33 GMT

Well, I'm back on the pony, harrassing people from the internet.

Mr. Carlos:

I got to your website through the Scott Hodge site when you were having your Scott Hodge thing. I actually got to the Scott Hodge website when I was having a David Crowder thing: I had written him a kind of angry letter about the tepidity of Christian music and somehow found Hodge's website while I was looking for information about Crowder. Anyway, none of that is important. I subscribed to your podcast and because my i-pod keeps downloading it and I like to have something to listen to on the treadmill, well, I guess I'm sort of a listener now.

I'm an English teacher in Niigata City Japan, who is also studying linguistics through a the University of Birmingham in the UK. I originally came to Japan as a missionary, actually, but after about a year, sort of felt like I had a lot less to say then I thought I did. I don't really like when people ask me about my religious beliefs as I guess I'm not really that sure anymore myself and always avoid the question by asking the questioner a question. This usually works and allows me to listen more, which I like much more than talking, when it comes to things like the Buddha or Jesus.

Also, I saw that you were adopting a baby from Korea, and I wanted to give you and your family a high-five for that. Korea is a really fabulous place that I really love a lot and am happy to hear that you too have a kind of heart for the Korean people.

Okay, so this is why I called. I'm really interested in words (being an aspiring linguist), and especially interested in words that Evangelical Christians use. My letter to Crowder was actually about words, how Christians use words that we don't have an experiential or intellectual attachment to, but rather understand emotionally. Words like *holy* and *king* are good examples. A worship leader can shout out *Jesus is holy, amen?!* at the crowd at most large Evangelical churches, and most everyone will shout back *Amen!* But really, when we think about the words, *Jesus is holy, amen?!* none of these words are words we intellectually engage or experience. Holy means what exactly. We can define it, maybe, but we can't really wrap our minds around it. If you dig into it, for most people, it isn't so much a intellectual concept, but a word that gets them to feel a certain way. That deserves a paragraph break and re-stating.

Words in worship experiences are triggers for *worshipful* feelings, I think. *Jesus is the King* doesn't mean anything, but it does get me to feel a certain, *worshipful* way.

Basically, I think this is really weird, and if I was more religious, I would say that it's dangerous. Because all these super-convicted Christians are in these darkened churches all over the country (or world) saying things that they make them feel good without thinking about why they are saying them. This has a way of being used in all sorts of evil ways, and could be argued (although I don't want to argue it) to be playing a strong role in our current conflict with Saddam and the Iraqis or the whole Middle East in general.

I was thinking about this when you were talking about Amena Brown. Why, I wondered, is this good? It's basically everything I have heard from Christian artists, only spoken, so it gets some attention. But really, it's fundamentally the same tired, over-used symbols that people don't engage so much as feel. The key to this is that it can't cross-over, right? If a non-Christian can't engage it or can't value it artistically, then it can't be good, can it?

Now, let me say, I don't think just feeling music is bad. Of course, sometimes we just feel music. But in my opinion, good music is when you can feel it and experience something intellectually fulfilling from it. I just saw the Bob Dylan documentary that came out a couple of years ago and was really caught by that in Dylan's music. Everybody in that generation could feel it, but when people went into the lyrics and started thinking about it, it was even richer. And you weren't required to hold a very narrow spiritual or political view to enjoy it. It appealed broadly.

Okay, what does this have to do with you? I'm not really sure, actually. But I thought today as I was running and thinking, that maybe you might have some thoughts on all this.

Thanks for your time. This letter is too long. I apologize for that. Thanks for the podcasting. As long as my ipod keeps downloading, I will keep listening.

Stephen

Did I say enough?

Mon, 21 Aug 2006 07:58:46 GMT

I think I've decided to restart for real this time, but I need to make a couple of observations first, set out some ground rules.

One of the things that I think is most reprehensible about the internet is my ability to say something and not be held accountable for it. This happened earlier this year when I made a comment about Scott Hodge that was really groundless and silly, but I made it because I thought there would be no consequence and let's face it, without consequences, I'm an asshole. His reply to my comment (or simply his awareness of it) really got me thinking. When I started up again in July, I thought I had gotten over that, when a similar kind of silly, critical comment on my entry appeared and reminded me again why I stopped in the first place.

See here's the problem, we can all say anything we like here and never really address each other. Even if you leave a comment here, on my site, it's really not a comment to me as it's visible for everyone. What we really do when we comment on someone's blog is make a public statement, using someone else's platform. And really, to be honest, that really chaffed my balls last month. Because it's not real. You aren't really talking with anyone. Suddenly, you can say something to me without saying actually saying it. Which really, is unfortunate.

So here I am, back, but you'll have noticed that I have disabled the comments on my site. Stephe-o, you're saying, you're a coward, you can't take any criticism? Well, perhaps, but I guess more importantly, I want you to say something to me if you have something to say to me. I realize that in writing here, I make public statements that people may or may not agree with, and people will think one way or another about me. I realize that there is a lot of exhibitionism involved in blogging, and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with you knowing more about me than me knowing about you. But really, if you disagree with something I've said and you really think you need to talk to me about it, let's use the e-mail.

I think that's all.

This from here has been with me all of today. Interesting how mournful this song is at its heart. Or how mournful it can be made. Whoever did the YouTube, you know, good work.

I was in Seoul this last, last week. Stephe-O trivia trackers will note this was my third time in Korea. This time, I actually had a purpose as I was attending a seminar for my MA studies. A couple of professors came down from Birmingham and lectured for a week. It was really a fabulous time. I don't think I learned a lot so much as got some of the motivation I've been lacking. I felt like a student again and got a good vision of what I need to be doing to finish well in the course and continue in my studies. A Ph.D. in the cards for the dude? Well, time can only tell.

Korea (see in the album "Speak to me/ Breathe II" at my pictures site), and especially Seoul, is such an interesting contrast to Japan. So much more... well, real I guess. In Korea people shout at each other, hold hands in public, kiss, laugh, fight: all these things that humans do, they do them. The Japanese rarely shout at each other, they rarely fight. They kiss when they have sex and hold hands when they're teenagers. Adulthood here requires a kind of sterilization. There is no conclusion to this paragraph.

The wife and I have finalized plans for the honeymoon, bringing us to Rome and Malta in October. I'm really looking forward to the food and coffee in Rome, in the autumn. I imagine we will come back with all sorts of secrets.

Also, in the earlier linked photo site, if you view the album "Wedding," you're certain to see pictures of the wedding.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 04:33:10 GMT

That was fun. I'm done again. See you in three months.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 07:52:04 GMT

Am I back?

I am married now. Maybe you are interested in my married life, and maybe I am eager to tell you about it. I had always noticed that men who used to be rather open and crass suddenly became very quiet about things like sex when they actually got married. Maybe I will be the same way... Maybe you want to hear this story, meditate on this image: Stephen, naked, standing on the bed with a rolled up church bulletin in hand shouting at a beetle, You have chosen the wrong higher life form to fuck with, friend.

Yoko got me a nice watch for my birthday so after years of not wearing an jewelry, I am wearing a ring and a watch. It's like when I got my long winter coat, the one I call the *legitimizer.* This watch is a legitimizer too.

Married is pretty much exactly like unmarried life, except that I have one less closet.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 13:02:35 GMT

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 07:42:31 GMT

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 13:28:43 GMT

Well, I can't believe it, but I think I'm hanging up my boots. It's been a nice ride, a really nice one, but I think this blog has run its course. I'm happy with how it's gone, I'm happy with all you kind people, but I'm beginning to think it's time for me to live a less public life and keep all my little secrets about Yoko and the cherry blossoms to myself from now on. I hope this will lead to a kind of productivity in my writing, maybe I will finally finish something I've started. We'll see, right? Who knows if this will stick. I sort of hope it doesn't. And I sort of hope it does. But for now, goodbye everyone. We'll talk soon, I'm sure.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Wed, 19 Apr 2006 02:48:05 GMT

I'm going on my first biking trip in May. Check out my brothers here. The first map shows the dude's planned course, 250 km in 2 days. I met a really nice pastor from the island who said I could hang out at his house for a night so I think I'll do that. Should be an effing good time and also a good time for me to collect my thoughts about the impending marriage.

Impending sounds negative. I wonder why...

This is a fun toy. I mean, if you like words and collocation and that kind of thing. I personally think collocation is sexy, but that might just be me. A search of "Impending" gives us:

A9F 347 `;The number of members has, over the last few days and weeks, dropped more dramatically than a barometer before an impending typhoon.';

ABD 1329 They have lost no time in sounding the alarm about an impending famine, which they say threatens 1.9m people.

AJ8 511 Molly Picon was born on June 1, 1898, in New York, where her parents had
fled from an impending pogrom.

A6D 776 The situation was further complicated by those like Stubbes and Perkins who saw dress contusion as symptomatic of impending social collapse, and those like James I whose hatred of female cross-dressing introduced a misogynistic factor which antedated current social anxiety yet found a powerful focus in it.

Okay, not an impending marriage. But don't tell Yoko that I have a crush on Jane Sunderland. It's like, I'm doing my research and I'm wondering if anyone has thought of X and it's like, yes, Jane Sunderland has and she's written a effing book about it. I even e-mailed her.

One of my friends tried to off herself this weekend with sleeping pills. Well, not really off herself. She didn't take nearly enough to do any damage and it became terribly clear that she just wanted everyone to come to the hospital and feel sorry for her. They didn't even have to pump her stomache. It was odd because Yoko and I went to the hospital, and when Yoko went out to the waiting room to talk to her family, I was left there, at the side of her bed trying to think of what to say. I realized that this whole world around us is a novel that is unfolding, every minute, story upon story, and if I had a kind of net, I could catch all of them and condense them and make everyone feel what I felt sitting there. The clock, the doctor, her mother finally coming in to check on her. The stories she tells are always only 5% of the truth. There is 95% of the story she doesn't tell. So you have to fill it in. What was really said. Did the glass really break. When you are with her, you are always trying to recover the truth and if she wasn't a real person with a real IV in her arm, it would be fascinating. I want to disappear, become the wall and just watch, but for now, that doesn't seem like an option and the stress is wearing on Yoko. Not on me. I'm an asshole, I could care less. But Yoko reaally cares and its hard to see her care more about someone's life than they care about their own life.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 13:11:32 GMT

This poem tells you everything you need to know about everything:

from Sarah Manguso's Siste Viator published in 2006 by Four Way Books.

Jupiter Has Sixty-One Moons

There's no difference between writing down what you hear and

writing down what you wish you heard.

On Jupiter there are sixty-one colors, one for each moon. Painting

students make moon-studies in their first color lessons.

It's hard to see in the dark, as it is for hours each day. Painters are

taught to paint blindfolded. Talented colorists show themselves

during this exercise.

When they do, they are taken away, as they suffer from a disease

that only light can cure.