Raised by Wolves

“Blood in the house, blood in the street
The worst things in the world are justified by belief.”
U2

A 13 year old boy blows his ass up in a street full of wedding partiers in Turkey and 50 people are killed. 5-0. What. The. Fuck. It’s no longer news within 24 hours.

A major party presidential candidate wants to deport 11,000,000 people. How exactly he doesn’t say, presumably because saying he will herd them into boxcars and dump them South of the Border wouldn’t make for good headlines. Like Germany in the 1930’s, we don’t care about the details. We just want a strong leader.

A self proclaimed Christian Leader calls the candidate “Churchillian”. What. The. Fuck.

We really have been raised by wolves.

If someone asked me why I am a Christian I would have to answer truthfully: because it’s the best bad option. I would have to agree with Ghandi. “I like your Christ, but I don’t think much of your Christians.” Some folks have said that Jesus of Nazareth was not the first Christian. Looking at much of what we do now in his name, I think to myself, “Lord Jesus, I hope they are right. ”

Now, you may say, not without justification, that many of His followers do any number of great things. I stipulate that is correct. Hospitals. Orphanages. Peacemaking. Leper colonies. Countless acts of selflessness and love that don’t make headlines. None of which justifies the bad things, the evil things, also done.

An old preacher of my youth said once – and I paraphrase a little – walking into a church don’t make you a follower of Jesus anymore than walking into a barn makes you a mule.”

Maybe it’s time we stop building religious businesses and start investing in lives. Maybe the lives of children already born are worth protecting as much as those yet to leave the womb.

I am struck and humbled by the fact that the only people Jesus fought with were the religious leaders of his day. They called him a drunkard and friend of sinners. He hung out with people the respectable folks wouldn’t be caught dead with. They tried to trap him with religious proof texts and laws. Jesus would have none of it.

If anyone is serious about following Jesus then maybe it’s time to stop using the rest of the bible to explain away the things he said. That would be truly revolutionary.

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Live the Dash

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I heard something profound in church today; a rarity. It’s not that profound things don’t get said or happen in church. It’s just that more often the profundity is right up there with a Donald Trump tweet. Ok?

Here’s the profound statement. Ready?
“Live the dash.”

That’s it.
“Live the dash.”

Ever read a tombstone? On each there’s birth dates and death dates with, wait for it… a dash in between. That dash encompasses our whole life. Everything we do, everything we are, all our successes and all our failures. That dash is our life.

We can’t control our date of birth and we can do precious little to control our date of death but we can control how we “live the dash”.

Too many people are obsessed with the second date. Some fear death, others don’t because they uttered a magic incantation to a God who loves us sooooo much that if we don’t say that incantation he will torture us forever for sins committed here on earth. Like ISIS on steroids.

Others don’t give a rodent’s rear (get it?) about the second date because they are too busy going through life in search of their next orgasm.

The fact is, the only thing we can influence – even control – with any degree of certainty is how we live our lives. The dash. We can’t control events but we can our behavior. We can’t control who loves us but we can whom we love and how we love. We can’t change the world, but we can work to be a blessing to others. We can, in short, show up.

The dash. How long it is isn’t up to us. How we live it is.

Live the dash.

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It’s all about politics

This article is damning, but spot on.

http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2016/08/evangelical-christians-trump-bill-clinton-apology/495224/

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Happy places

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This was my dad’s happy place. A pond behind his house. He’d promised his Connie a house on the water and they lived here for more than a decade. She still does and here I sit. From the back deck overlooking the water I hear thunder in the distance, of the type upon which dad and I would have cast a wary eye if we were in a boat. We would always fish until the last moment.

His remaining rods and reels sit idly in the shed. I am bringing three of the reels home with me. When you die I guess people figure out what to do with your stuff. As his only child I will cherish the use of his tools, especially his leather tool belt and his router bits; his guns, and those reels. I’ll hold the memories of giving him the best day he ever had fishing. We were in my 17′ Lund out of Rye, NH casting for strippers along the rocks. He must have caught 40-50 that day. I caught plenty but mostly I was content seeing him having so much fun and steering the boat by the trolling motor so to give him the best casts.

Paradoxically, I think love for the water is why I am drawn to Arizona. Both are open and wild, even dangerous if you are unprepared or foolish. You can be alone and find solitude or party with your friends. You can make love in the desert or floating on the breeze.

My dad would have been 75 this October. I plan on celebrating it by going fishing for stripped bass up on Lake Powell. I still have the same boat. I will camp on the shore. I will try to master the baitcasting reel, a skill that has continually eluded me. Usually I give up and return to my spinning reel, a Shimano on a 5’6″ medium action Diawa rod. I’ll miss my dad, but enjoy his birthday in the way I know he would appreciate. And I hope I can fry up a fresh fish or two. But, I’ll bring along a steak just in case.

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Religion in America: Numero deux; the unholy alliance

April 29, 1980 was clear and chilly. A high school friend, Scott, and I were on the Metro Red Line to attend “Washington for Jesus”. W4J was a gathering of the newly empowered “religious right” movement that aimed to “take America back” from the evil forces of secular humanism; you know, the Democrats.

The religion was supplied by TV preachers Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell; both Virginians who also started their own universities. Pat, a Pentecostal from Virginia Beach had a TV show called The 700 Club, which sounds like a good name for a titty bar: “Appearing tonight at The 700 Club, Haley Storm! Remember, friends, two-for-one lap dances every week day from 3 – 6.” Jerry, on the other hand, was a dyed in the wool good ol’ boy hell fire and brimstone Baptist preacher from Lynchburg, pastor of Thomas Road Baptist Church and host of the Old Time Gospel Hour. Both reverends used their TV ministries to rake in millions of tax free donations and espoused a brand of theology that at least vaguely resembled the teachings of Jesus; if Jesus of Nazareth wore makeup, Armani suits, and asked people to send money to God but at his address.

The “Right” in religious right came in the form of socially conservative politics. Pat and Jerry, et al., fused the religion and the politics into a movement largely composed of white fundamentalists and evangelicals who were ready to make America great again by electing politicians who agreed with them on exactly how to do it. Never mind that they already had a Southern Baptist Sunday school teacher as president. They wanted a divorced movie actor who rarely went to church…. Ronald Reagan.

I wanted Reagan, too, and still revere him as a leader, but I have always seen the deep irony in how so many Christians turned on Carter. That irony has only recently been eclipsed by how many have turned to support Donald Trump. Carter was perhaps one of the godliest men ever to live in the White House. He was aloof in person and in over his head as president, but a truly decent man and one would have thought others who shared his faith would have been a little more supportive. Carter famously gave Playboy magazine an interview. Now religious conservatives have thrown their heft behind one who has been on its cover.

Falwell, in particular, was rabidly Right in his political proclivities; founding the Moral Majority, an oxymoron if there ever was one. His school, Liberty University, is now lead by his son Jerry Falwell, Jr. and is a bastion of conservative ideology protecting young minds from the liberal agenda. I will give them credit for inviting Bernie Sanders to speak there this past spring, as well as to Sanders for giving an excellent address with which he knew most in his audience would disagree. In truth, I think they found him a rather harmless sort of character, more Colonel Sanders than Senator Sanders, and giving him a chance to speak would make them at least appear open minded. I rather suspect there will be no such invitations for Hillary.

I don’t remember much about the speakers that day in 1980. Organizers claimed a half million people filled the Washington Mall. National Park Service estimates were somewhat lower, closer to 125,000.

The event was lily White, as Black Christians were generally dubious about the religious right, whose leaders, particularly Falwell, came from a faith stream whose source went back to those fighting the War Against Northern Aggression and, more recently, had opposed the civil rights movement. In retrospect, it was really WASPs for Jesus and Jesus was defined and pigeonholed as a blue eyed republican. Max von Sydow with a slight southern drawl.

Religious and political leadership require many of the same qualities; such as industry, communication skills, and a clear message. It’s no wonder the lines between the two are so blurred. At its best, politics channels the best moral teachings in religious thought into policies that uplift society as a whole. Care for the poor is an obvious example, but so too is the Judeo-Christian emphasis on personal responsibility as a basis for free enterprise and ownership of personal property. At its worst, religious influence can drive politics to an evangelical frenzy that insists there is only one way and it’s theirs. Politics requires the art of the compromise and the deal. Religion generally frowns on both, even if both are inevitable.

For better or worse, Christian conservatives became a powerful and (so it was thought) indispensable force in 1980. White Christians could identify with wanting America back to what it was like in the 50’s. Opposition to abortion and “the homosexual agenda” became the clarion calls for the movement. Social conservatism found its voice in Francis Schafer and C. Everett Koop. Schafer was a philosopher and Koop a pediatric surgeon at Philadelphia’s Children’s Hospital and the two collaborated on the film Whatever Happened to the Human Race? The movie was shown in conservative churches across the country and is celebrated from the imagery of dolls strewn across a beach to represent aborted babies. The culture war was on.

We know Reagan won the election and if you want to know how politics used to work, read Chris Matthews’ excellent book Tip and the Gipper, which is an inside look at the two men’s political rivalry and personal friendship. Reagan and O’Neal had a policy: no politics after 6 and both men knew how to use their charm on the other. Both could be hardnosed and ruthless, but also knew it was not personal. When they knew they didn’t have the votes to win, they compromised and got as much as they could.

Reagan didn’t consider social issues to be at the top of his agenda, but he also knew he owed the religious right something so he nominated C. Everett Koop to be Surgeon General.  Heretofore, the position was simply bureaucratic and somewhat ceremonial. Whereas most Americans only knew of the surgeon general as the nameless and faceless originator of those warnings on cigarette packages, Dr. Koop was already well known and all hell broke loose with the nomination. The patrician pediatrician was vilified but Reagan stuck to his guns and ultimately Koop was confirmed.

Koop was a bit of a larger than life character. He liked to wear his uniform as head of the Public Health Service and looked a bit like Captain Obvious. He was mocked and ridiculed. Then AIDS happened. Actually AIDS had been happening. And few cared, none of them, of course, republicans. At that time, it was a gay disease. Many Americans and a plurality, maybe a majority, of self-proclaimed Christians saw it as “God’s judgment on homosexuality.” I heard that repeated many times in the circles in which I moved in those days. I didn’t buy it, because even then there were other groups of people who got AIDS. I wondered what God had against hemophiliacs. Or gay people, for that matter, even if back then I still considered gayness a choice and a sin. Followers of Jesus, whose only enemies were Satan and hypocritical religious leaders, seem to hate rather well and better than many.

Dr. Koop surprised everyone, none more so than his biggest supporters and detractors, by speaking out on this issue. A lot. And in downright plain language. Long before the nation at large had ever even heard of Bill Clinton, Koop was testifying before congress, with his Mennonite looking beard, his dress white sharply pressed uniform, and thick glasses, he used words like “condom” and “anal sex” over and over. In a Yankee accent, he cajoled squirmy members of congress, suddenly turned into prepubescent children, into funding AIDS research and spoke bluntly about safe sex. He did everything but use a banana as a prop during the hearing. Most republicans were aghast, as none had ever used the word “condom” outside the locker room. Democrats were perplexed. Who was this guy? Eventually, even solidly leftist democrats like Henry Waxman had to admit Koop had not only surprised them, but won the day and probably was the only who could get the Reagan administration to support the funding. Like him or not, Koop was principled. He was surgeon general of the United States. Not just for people of whom he personally approved.

On the other hand, Reagan also nominated James Watt to be Secretary of the Interior. With his bald head and bespectacled gaze, Watt was a cartoonist’s dream, who, in an orgasmic frenzy, attempted to sell off as much public land as possible to oil and gas interests. This is literally decades before Halliburton made billions in Iraq.

Fast forward 30+ years. We still have abortion and Roe is largely intact. Republicans steadfastly remain prolife, so long as that requires only allegiance from the moment of conception to when the baby is born. Then not so much. Pro-life in the womb doesn’t cost anything and the baby is someone else’s problem. Black babies in utero are not a threat until they grow up to be Black men in hoodies.

Where are all our principled leaders? Especially Christians? If one is truly pro-life then doesn’t that life matter after it is born? If, as Tony Compolo has written, most abortions are out of economic necessity then should not pro-life Christians support funding so no woman has to choose abortion? Dr. Koop, always a steadfast opponent to abortion, came to believe that the only way to prevent abortion was to prevent unplanned and unwanted pregnancies. And should not Christians be the ones speaking out on immigration reform, rather than blindly signing onto an amorphous idea (certainly not a plan) to deport 11,000,000 people?

The Moral Majority is now defunct. Pat is still selling indulgences on The 700 Club, but the religious right seems to have lost some “oomph”. Maybe it’s just tired, or maybe it’s been replaced by the tea party, a loose confederacy that may include religious groups and adhere to some socially conservative views, but is not at all driven by anything like the Moral Majority’s religious fervor.

What’s more, White Christian progressives have now begun to join their African American counterparts in a more politically liberal movement that encompasses evangelical, mainline protestant and Catholic traditions. While the “Christian Left” has nowhere near the influence the Right still does, its influence is growing. Even Evangelicals – itself a group of somewhat amorphous definition – now may embrace a fairly conservative theology and a progressive politics. This is still the exception rather than the rule and I observe that most Christians tend to have political and theological views very much in alignment. I often wonder which influences which more.

 

Religion continues to have a salutary effect on American life, but I do fear the unholy alliances sometimes bred. Not much has changed in 36 years. The nation’s founders were not fearful about too much religion, but rather of the cooptation of religion by the State. We don’t need to worry about that formally happening, but we most certainly do in an informal sense. This election cycle especially seems to be driven by a fear that has bred hatred and a thirst for power supposedly justified by the vilification of opponents. Followers of Jesus have allowed themselves to be duped by a political system that always over promises and under delivers. This is really true on both the left and right. All Christians need to vote and be engaged while remembering that no matter what government may do, Christ’s followers are never absolved from doing the work he gave us. And hatred is not a Judeo-Christian virtue.

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Safe Sex and the Olympian

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/early-lead/wp/2016/07/19/rio-olympics-providing-a-record-number-of-condoms-to-athletes/

Times have changed. Used to be, back when I was a high school athlete, coaches told their charges to “keep it in your pants tonight! We have a game tomorrow!” He wouldn’t want you to over exert yourself and have a bad game and he’d say it in terms like he really meant it.

Of course, it wasn’t like we were taking “it” out of our pants for much more than taking a leak, although I imagine everyone’s “it” got cleaned on a regular basis. Like a firearm, no “it” should be cleaned while loaded, if you catch my drift. The whole thing also seemed rather unfair to me at the time. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to tell my coach, “Uh, coach, keep your Johnson at home tonight or you might really suck on the sideline tomorrow!”

Now, ahem, comes a Washington Post article on condoms being provided to Olympic athletes at next month’s Rio Games. You can’t swim or even row safely in the water and heaven help you if you get a mosquito bite, but Rio wants you to be safe if you get laid. They’re handing out enough latex for each athlete to, wait for it… git r done more than FORTY times! The Olympics last two weeks! How the hell does one have the time, much less the energy, to compete?

For the record, the International Olympic Committee is distributing 450,000 condoms to the athletes. 350,000 are of the male variety, whilst 100,000 are female condoms. That is blatant discrimination if I ever saw it! One would think they would have distributed an equal number. You can never be too careful. Rio authorities are also providing more than 50,000 jars of Vaseline, 10,000 French ticklers and 8,000 bottles of Anal Eaze.

No mention is made about the size of the condoms being distributed. I mean we have to consider gymnasts versus, say, weightlifters. Sorry, most of those female gymnasts aren’t even to the age of consent in West By God Virginia. Back when my daughter was training 32 hours a week she aspired to make it to these Games. (A local gymnast her age did, as an alternate). The thought of Livia getting a goodie bag with “water bottle, check… sun screen, check… backpack, check… Trojans, check…” is a little unnerving to this old man.  I’m glad she left the sport.

Apparently the first Games where condoms were provided were in Seoul. They provided less than one per person. Why the big change? Have they just figured out that athletes like to do the wild thing like the rest of us? Were there late night runs on local convenience stores, which were invariably sold out? Who knows.

In the interest of being on the foreskin of science, I hope the World Health Organization is conducting penetrating research on who uses these prophylactics and how. You gotta figure that a highly religious country like Saudi Arabia or Iran would not use any. (Right….) On the other hand, the good old US of A should be pretty close to getting a gold medal in this event. I’m also guessing Australia may be sexual powerhouse. I’ve heard of their beaches. The home team there in Brazil might do all right too.

Either way, I am glad to see that IOC is taking time from their doping investigation of Russia to make sure that the only things Olympic athletes take home from Rio are memories, medals, and maybe Zika virus.

 

 

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Another damn blog post

The urge to roam and explore is only tempered by the need to belong. Maybe that’s what makes Americans different. And Australians. We are all from somewhere else. Even so called Native Americans came from someplace, although from where exactly is a source of seemingly endless scientific debate. High school texts are the last to change and the idea that what the Canadians call First Peoples came across the Bering land bridge is, while still the most likely explanation, no longer a slam dunk. When exactly is even less certain, but they were undoubtedly searching for a better life. Room to spread out. What Lucy wanted for Christmas. Real estate.

For all our orgasmic admiration of all things European – “free” health care, late night dining, brothels- Europeans envy one thing they don’t have: room. With space comes opportunity to grow. Like a root bound potted plant, transplant a young European into fertile American soil and he will suddenly sprout new shoots. I’ve seen it. They may not become gun toting cowboys and they will mercilessly criticize the culture and the food (unless they’re from the UK then they’ll only criticize the culture); they will still purchase SUVs and Levi’s at prices not accessible to many of the folks back home.

Millions of immigrants over the past four centuries risked their lives, which were let’s face it pretty shitty, to get here. Others were brought over as African slaves; the first workers who took jobs white people wouldn’t do. All else being equal the slaves were the only ones who would have chosen to stay home but no one asked Kunte Kintae (played by Lt Commander Jordy LaForge) his opinion. The fact that LaVar Burton started out as a slave and became the chief engineer on a starship THEN host of Reading Rainbow, is just one of the many things that make America great.

The theme of venturing out in order to find a home where one belongs is oft repeated in our history. Italians, Irish, Pols, Germans, Chinese, Jews all tended to settle into communities where they were surrounded by like minded and languaged people at least until they realized that wasn’t much better than what they had before. So they decided to venture out and Merica became what the great historian Dave Barry calls a “fondue pot”.

In our history Americans have always had that one scapegoat. The one group upon whom the derision of the rest of us was heaped. Chinese. Negroes. The Irish. Now it’s Mexicans, or perhaps Hispanics in general.

Truth is we seem to be wired for suspicion. It goes back to the first Homo sapiens and the Neanderthal next door (call him Andy. He only went by one name. Like Bono). Andy would invite you and the missus over for bbq mastodon. The superior reasoning ability of the young male Homo sapiens made him wonder about the Neanderthal’s true intentions. Mrs. Homo sapiens just noticed Andy’s hands. Very Trump-like apparently. Andy was really plotting to hit the prehistoric Ward Cleaver over the head with a club and start banging the missus. Evolution at its finest.

Even thousands of years ago society was a smelting pot; so called because everyone smelled like fish. They didn’t bathe much in those days. Scientists say that Neanderthals and modern humans interbred regularly, so they apparently didn’t mind the odor. This means the millions of modern humans carry Neanderthal DNA, although contrary to popular belief they aren’t all republicans.
Even then we were trying to figure out how to live together. Here we are, so we must have had some modicum of success, even if we have to use the term “civilization” rather broadly.

Rodney King famously asked “can’t we all just get along?” It certainly doesn’t seem that we can; for any period of time anyway.
Maybe we will blow ourselves up in a nuclear Armageddon. If we do it won’t be from some republican or democrat Neanderthal but a modern human with a medieval mindset who thinks he is cleansing the earth from evil.

Curtis LeMay wanted to bomb Vietnam back to the Stone Age. I’m no longer convinced we ever left.

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Religion in America Part 1: The Phoenix Goddess Temple

 

In 2011 Phoenix police raided a “house of worship”, the Phoenix Goddess Temple: (Bingo every Wednesday, two-for-one lap dances every Thursday from 4-6). Tracy Elise, the leader of the group, was sentenced in May 2016 to 4.5 years in prison after being convicted on 22 counts associated with the primary allegation of running a house of prostitution.

The Temple had a website that explained the Temple offered “tantric sex” as a way to “spiritual oneness”. For those who are unaware, “Tantric” is a Hindi word meaning “mind blowing”. I know more than a few men who would gladly tithe for “tantric sex” once a week.

According to Tracy Elise’s LinkedIn page, “[Her] objective is to allow the ancient and powerful sacred sexuality teachings to emerge from all wisdom streams: Egyptian, Hindu, Buddhist, Goddess Worship, Druid/Pagan, Mystic Islam and Judeo-Christianity. I teach women how to embody the Sacred Feminine and ordain women who desire to serve the Goddess aspect of the Creator; I inspire men to wholesome and soul-full use of their own ‘root’ power (sacred sexual enlightenment).” For $200 they’d rub your root power until you were sufficiently enlightened. For an offering of $600 they’d allow you to plant your root power in their tantric garden, until you were both enlightened as hell, but they’d throw in a bottle of holy water and a bindi.

At her sentencing hearing, even prosecutors, while asking for a prison term, did not doubt her sincerity. According to a May 19, 2016 story in the Arizona Republic, “Christopher Sammons, a deputy Maricopa County attorney, identified Elise as a sincere person who simply did not understand the laws surrounding prostitution. ‘She still believes this is some giant conspiracy to go after her religion, and there’s no truth to that,’ Sammons said…. ‘We believe a mitigated term is appropriate, given who she is and what Phoenix Goddess Temple was,’ Sammons said.”

There’s an obvious comedic aspect to this that I am powerless to overlook. I envision worship services punctuated by alter calls: “Please turn to hymn number 69, Titties and Beer.”  I imagine Christmas Eve services featuring carols we have all known and loved since childhood, such as O Cum, All Ye Faithful.

And of course it’s a fact that poll dancing is responsible for the rise of paper currency. Ever tried to tip a stripper with a silver dollar? Where would you put it?

Yet there’s also an aspect here that bothers me and it’s not the sex. It’s the hypocrisy. The late Oral Roberts[1] can tell his followers that God is going to “take me home”, if he doesn’t raise enough funds to keep his ministry going. Joel Osteen can hold his church services in a sports arena and rake in millions from self-help, feel good books. Creflo Dollar, the single best TV preacher name of all time, asks his largely African American followers to help him raise $60 million dollars for a new jet. And who can forget the great Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker of Charlotte, NC “home of the world’s first known Christian waterslide”[2]. All of these folks are religious leaders who certainly have screwed more people than the Sacred Mother Tracy Elise ever dreamt.

Sex and religion have been intertwined since long before Jimmy Swaggert tearfully apologized on TV. It used to be considered a sacred act of worship and in the first century pagan temple prostitution was commonplace. In fact, it often involved young boys and it is this specific practice that is condemned in the New Testament passages to which we apply homosexuality in general[3]. So far as I am concerned, if the good ladies of the Goddess Temple want to practice their religion or prostitution or whatever it is then fine with me. Just don’t engage in underage prostitution, human trafficking, or any coercive acts.

Religion, especially in America, has always been consumer driven. What sells? How do we get people in the door? How do we make them come back, get them involved, get them to sign up? Principles of business are applied to church growth like it’s a corporation. Because it is. Jesus will make us feel better about ourselves – often by making us feel worse about others. Jesus will protect us from a fate worse than death by ISIS. Jesus will make me better looking, guide my life and find me the right mate, unless of course that mate happens to be of the same gender, in which case I am hosed. At least Mother Tracy cut out the horse shit. Her religion will get you laid.

Sex is as good a motivation as any, but some who look for God are true spiritual seekers. In fact, I think we live in an age of more honest spiritual searching than at any time in recent memory. I’m not sure how much finding there is, but a good orgasm along the way can’t hurt. The problem is many seekers look in places with little to offer. Trite answers are dispensed with a catchy beat and a repetitive chorus, complete with lights, multi-media, and a three-point message; a spiritual orgasm and just as transiently satisfying.

On the other extreme we have those who wish to recapture the glorious past of America’s days as a Christian Nation. By that they mean a White Christian Nation of a particular political bent that – conveniently – dovetails nicely with a companion theological study guide. It is all right there in the Bible. Who knew that sacred Scripture tells us how to vote?

Coming next: 1980 the year it all changed.

[1] If I ever get two puppies, I think I might name them Oral and Anal.

[2] Dave Barry used that line to describe Heritage USA a thankfully defunct “Christian” amusement park.

[3] That’s a complicated topic getting into ancient Greek meanings. Suffice it to say that I’ve become convinced that there’s no way those few passages that even discuss the topic could have referred to ideas such as our modern understanding of same sex attraction, as that understanding didn’t even arise until the 19th Century.

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Noodling

As a sometime – if mostly unsuccessful – fisherman, I have spent hours in my boat casting and reeling in lures of all shapes and sizes. I have caught more branches and weeds than fish and have probably caused enough dermal cells to mutate their DNA to give me skin cancer of all types. But recently, while watching River Monsters on Animal Planet, I learned what I have been doing all wrong when it comes to my fishing. I’ve been using the wrong bait.

I’ll get back to bait in a minute, but for those who don’t know, River Monsters features  “biologist and extreme angler” Jeremy Wade, who travels the world looking for the most aggressive and dangerous man-eating fish in the world’s rivers. He does this invariably from a canoe the approximate size and shape of a #2 pencil, only not as seaworthy. He goes places like The Congo, Brazil, India, and Oklahoma to investigate tales of gore, always to finally land the big one just after the last commercial.

After watching my first episode of this show, I said to myself, my wife, my kids, and anyone in my zip code, “OH MY GOD! I’m never going swimming in anything but my cement pond ever again!” Don’t watch this show before bed. One of the grossest shows was when our intrepid angler, Jeremy – a 50-something Brit from Southeast England – traveled to New Zealand to catch lampreys, disgusting snake-like fish. This episode would have sent Indiana Jones running to the comparatively safe embrace of the Nazis.

In another episode Jeremy was in Indonesia hunting a fish the locals call – I swear I am not making this up – the “ball breaker”. Apparently, this diminutive fish likes to swim up someone’s drawers and bite the unsuspecting man’s testicles, which by all reliable accounts at least, are just sort of hanging there minding their own business when the attacks occur. Jeremy researched this phenomenon and found that the testicles in question were pretty average, as gonads go, and not behaving threateningly in any way. The perps, it turned out, were non-native and heretofore vegetarian pacu fish from South America. Seems that someone in Indonesia had the marvelous idea it would be perfect habitat for the pacu, which could then serve as an important food source for the villages. Turns out that the rivers there aren’t as fertile as those in the Amazon basin and the pacu needed to turn to eating mountain oysters to survive. As the pacu’s normal diet consists of nuts, their jaws are very adapted to crushing tree nuts when they fall into the water. Since the human variety lack the hard shell of those found in trees, apparently the pacu have decided amongst themselves that the new diet plan not only tastes great, it’s a great source of protein, and also saves on expensive piscine dental work. Evolution in action.

Jeremy Wade is my hero. Not only does he always catch his fish, he’s just cool. Always has a 2 day growth of beard. Grey hair makes him look distinguished, not old. He camps out in awesome places risking attack from mosquitoes the size of Ping drivers and crocodiles that eat whole wildebeest as hors d’oeuvres. He’s got a British accent. He’s kind of a cross between James Bond and Tarzan. He is the real Most Interesting Man in the World. I bet he doesn’t always drink beer, but when he does it’s Dos Equis. The only thing that would make him cooler is if he was surrounded by River Monster Groupies, nubile 25 year olds (of every creed, race and colour) who pole dance for him every night by the campfire.

Anyway, back to bait. I was watching River Monsters the other day and Jeremy was in, brace yourself, Oklahoma. I shiver at the thought of him there. He’s been in some tough locales before, but Oklahoma? In the US of A; land of the free and home of the all night Wendy’s? I’m not sure the world is ready for what Jeremy might reel in from rivers full of rusted Buicks and Baptist preachers. (Note: never cast downstream to a group of folks getting’ baptized in a river. You never know what sins you might catch and you can never be too careful. Make sure your shots are current.)

Jeremy was in Oklahoma to catch flathead catfish. Flathead cats can grow to huge sizes with mouths vaguely reminiscent of Jimmy Carter, minus the teeth. I’ve caught lots of catfish over the years and it’s a form of fishing at which I have actually been rather successful, mostly because copious quantities of beer are involved.

But fishing with rod and reel were not how Jeremy Wade was going to catch these giant cats. He was goin’ “noodling”. Noodling involves catching fish with your hands. What you do is – and again, I SWEAR I am not making any of this up, is you go into the water – typically very muddy water with the visibility of chocolate milk – and reach your hands into a hole wherein a catfish may be residing. These holes are, get this, under actual water; sometimes deep enough to require you to take a breath and submerge your head in order to reach the cat’s lair. Then you try to get the fish pissed off enough to bite you, whereupon you grab it by the jaw and retrieve it from the hole. Very simple.

So let’s recap for a second: you wade into water that might be chest deep. You can’t see 6” into said water. For all you know, Jimmy Hoffa may be under there. You take a breath, hold it, and submerge your whole body into this swirling brown liquid. Then you stick your arm into a cavity, in order to provoke an attack by a fish that might weigh as much as your wife. When the fish bites your hand (these fish have been known to grab as far up as the elbow) you close your hand on whatever you can and pull the fish out.

Now, there are several important details to this technique. First, most of the people who practice it do (contrary to the obvious stereotypes) have actual day jobs. They’re Professional Tornado Witnesses for cable news networks. Second, since these flatheads can get over 100 lbs, you have to be very physically fit. Your champion noodlers field dress at no less than 250. They make offensive linemen look svelte. Third, no one has informed the catfish that you’re coming and to make sure other – non-target – species aren’t also home; such as water moccasins, muskrats, etc.

This whole idea begs one important question: “Are these people freaking crazy?!” I’ve spent countless hours fishing, but it has never once occurred to me to use myself as bait. Sticking your arm into a hole to catch a fish is like sticking your wiener into a light socket to test the voltage. Why Jeremy Wade even went into one large cavity head first!

After Jeremy and his partners had caught their fish, they placed them in plastic tanks of the variety used for watering cattle and drove them to – again, every word of this is true – the Last Chance Baptist church for a weigh in. I’m not sure what it is about Baptists that inspire this sort of behavior. I supposed the weigh in could have occurred at the local Presbyterian church, but this being Oklahoma, there weren’t any. Jeremy, of course, being a big TV star and all, was immediately recognized and caused a bit of commotion, as the town hadn’t had that big a celebrity appearance since Orel Roberts saw his 300’ Jesus. Maybe it was the ringer they brought in, but Jeremy and his partners won! You just can’t beat this kind of television.

Seriously? Has our country sunk so low? Are we so poor we can’t afford bait? There was a time when honest working-class American Red Necks would fish from actual boats; boats that cost more than the typical American home and (at full throttle) went faster than your typical NASCAR ride and were just as loud. And, by God, we used chicken livers for the purpose He intended them!

I don’t know about you, but the fact that giant man-eating fish live in God-fearing, Republican states such as Oklahoma worries me mightily. Fish like that need to live in places such as South Africa, Pakistan, and New York. And whatever you do, if you go, please don’t try to catch them by hand. Fish in those parts are undoubtedly armed.

 

 

 

 

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The Pink Pistols… It’s a real thing

LGBT gun rights group sees membership skyrocket after Orlando shooting

 http://usat.ly/28MeQUO

http://www.pinkpistols.org/

Think the LGBT community is monolithic? 

 We often make assumptions about how minority groups are “supposed” to behave. Remember 2008 when pundits, mostly white, wondered whether Barack Obama; then a long-shot freshman senator, was “black enough” to gain significant African American support? 

 Intellectual laziness is easy. Take the recent senate votes on so-called assault weapons. Yes, four were defeated. If you looked at only the headlines and quotes you would think that republicans blocked all four. In truth it’s a mixed bag. Republicans blocked some and democrats blocked some. The devil is in the details, but both parties are looking to score points before a compromise is hammered out.  The perfect must never become the enemy of the good. 

 I’m becoming more Libertarian in my old age. America is exceptional not because we are special is any way but one: we have always placed a premium on individual freedom above social cohesion. That creates conflict and, indeed, winners and losers. But it also creates a vibrant multi ethic society in which personal ability, drive, and achievement are rewarded like no other. 

 And it means this: name me another industrialized or developed nation, hell ANY nation,  that has elected a minority citizen of African decent as its head of state. None come to mind. The closest would be Alburto Fujimori, a  Peruvian of Japanese descent.

 Verily, “only in America”.   

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