governance, the two party system, and lawbreaking in the State of Offense

what is the anatomy of pride?  what beat-down loser flush with learned helplessness came up with the idea that sticks and stones harm more than words?

if i call someone, especially a black someone, a nigger, i’m liable to be assaulted, physically and in the media, for insensitivity and hate and ignorance.

a black person calls another black person nigga with any number of derogatory adjectives with no repercussion. in the words of bounty hunter Jubal Early, does that seem right to you?

a black person calls a white person a cracker or any number of things and most people laugh or shrug it off.

i call a person a fag and it must be because i’m secretly harboring repressed homosexual desires or because i’m a Christian or i’m ignorant or i’m homophobic (actually scared of gays? really?).

according to various murmurings, the gay community is attempting to salvage  (redeem?) the term by liberally calling each other fags. you know, desensitization and all. it doesn’t cause as much anxiety after so many applications of mean words.

my blonde sister-in-law tells blonde jokes. i laugh. as i returned pillows at Macys yesterday, the black sales associate with black hair had a self-proclaimed blonde moment. i thought it odd, but my blonde wife didn’t even bat an eyelash. and she’s an actual blonde.

i’m half Korean. my mom is fully Korean (the good kind). i’m proud of the exotic half of my ethnicity. it’s a good conversation piece. i haven’t worn the clothes much. i’m not sure who the president of South Korea is. there’s definitely a good portion of SoKo (what hipsters call it. just kidding. i’m totally full of $h!+) history where they got pushed around, i believe by Japan, and i know there’s some lingering resentment there. but not on my part. not on my mom’s part, either. i know that Seoul’s the capital city. i know my dad was in Pyongyang, near Panmunjom. but i had to look up how to spell those cities. but is that enough? can i be accused of being not proud enough?

i’m not sure if i’m proud of the white part of me. i’m not at all ashamed. don’t get me wrong but pride in one’s whiteness conjures images of pointy pillow case hoods and burning  crosses.

when i was in fourth grade, George, a lanky and popular Mexican classmate, called me a “dirty Korean” during a soccer game. it didn’t roll off his tongue at all and everyone just kinda wrinkled their noses at his less than funny attempt at an insult. it wasn’t that they were horrified at his cultural insensitivity. it was simply less than laugh-worthy.

i wasn’t embarrassed or sad. i think i was just as confused as everyone else, because a minute ago George had asked me if i was Chinese. i wasn’t.  i was Korean, though.

i don’t know what reputation Korea (the good one) has in the world. i know the food rules. i know the folks i’ve met at Korean churches are generous and kind and welcoming. but that might be just because it was a church.

once, i was mocked for being a virgin. but i didn’t blush. i was a little jealous that the insulter had already made it with a girl, but it didn’t hurt my feelings, nor did i feel the need to defend the honor of virgins worldwide. i was born a virgin. but i’m not one any more.

Paul said that in Christ, there is neither virgin nor veteran sex-haver, blonde nor bald, North or South Korean, proud or embarrassed American.

or something like that.

i wonder how far to take that. Chad says inflammatory things like you lose your rights once you sign on with Jesus. you submit yourself to the kingship of God to be a part of the Kingdom of Heaven. you lose the right to respond to a slight with anything but a turned cheek. you lose the basis for demanding an apology. you lose the right to expect sympathy. and this isn’t just in terms of your faith—because even if in modern society, life can be compartmentalized, i submit to you that modern society is not always correct. and a holistic, even more truthy view of life demands that faith not be set against work or family or friends or personal life.

even if you reject this premise or observation of reality, people are far too sensitive. people are mean. but people also leave things open-ended, frequently in art and in writing. of course being in the public eye widens the ripple any dropped stone might make in life. a private letter usually only reaches the recipient. the post-game press conference for the Super Bowl reaches a far wider audience. and a player’s slightly vague response to an innocuous question might be speculated about for weeks on sports radio and television.

so when someone writes a book that talks about character and the many traps and enemies of integrity but uses a thread in the title, content, marketing, and appearance of ninjas, among other things, people can see what they want. one of the bigger complaints about the Deadly Viper Character Assassins is that Asian people are displayed in a menacing manner. i’m literally dumbfounded. they are NINJAS. and by nature, as assassins, are scary. you wake up in the middle of the night and see a ninja in your room, you’re about to die (or be rescued in a totally awesome fashion).

other points of conflict are: confusion of Japanese and Chinese letters/characters, usage of Asian objects and symbols in a manner that is not honoring to the cultures they represent (kimonos, samurai, etc.), a line in the book that compares a made-up Chinese sounding name to a communicable disease.

Asians sound off here, here, and here.

there’s a little back and forth here at Church Marketing Sucks, which initially gave a good review to the book, then once the offended parties raised their collective voices, backed off and opened a forum for discussion.

ultimately, i’m having a tough time wading through the crap on both sides and figuring out why people are offended. some of the most eloquent responses fall along the lines of “we just are. why can’t you see that?” some of the more prominent responders are having a great day increasing their site hits by trolling various sites and linking back to their blogs while deleting opposing viewpoints from their own blog comments.

i don’t believe the authors intended to be hurtful or malicious or demeaning. most of the voices seem to agree, but feel that apologies are owed (they’ve since been given to some extent) and that more reconciliation is needed.

and so i’m examining myself to see where i’m hurtful and racist and unintentionally damaging to the kingdom i profess to be a part of, and from what i currently see, being offended and being offense don’t even necessarily go hand in hand. i’m not a journalist or a constitutional defender, but it seems that saying “x” might get you into trouble simply because someone heard you say that particular letter and felt “z” about it. freedom of speech is one of the stakes in this conversation.

we’re taught early on that words can’t harm. and then we’re taught that words can hurt more than broken bones. but looking back on the schoolyard rhyme, i think there’s a line missing about the thickness of our collective and individual skin.

only 49 days left in this year. good riddance.

i was taking a shower when my cook called. 3 times. at 5.57 am, and my wife is sick and had trouble falling asleep. the voicemail went something like this: hey, it’s Juan. i won’t be able to open the kitchen today… i had some trouble with the police.” so i scurry in to the hotel and start doing the stuff i know how, like baking scones, starting oatmeal, frying some potatoes.

Juan finally scurries in and tells me about how he’s napping yesterday and hears a banging on the door, and a loud voice demanding that Juan Ayala open the door because it’s the police, scumbag. ok, i just added scumbag because that’s what the tellie always portrays. anyhoo, it turns out that after a long night in jail for a car break-in, then getting transferred to Mansfield, that there is, omg, more than one Juan Ayala in texas. whoops.

a new cook starts training friday, which means that at long last, 4 months after being opened, after psychopaths and meddling owners, i am fully staffed with a staff that i (mostly) hand-picked. and that means no more unrequested 5.30 AM wake up calls. and hopefully, no more split shifts. and hopefully some time off over one of the next 3 holidays. and maybe, just maybe, 2 days off a week.

in other news, Just Bekah has yet another thought that you must share with her. i can’t believe she’s doing this as a college frosh. apparently the way of Jesus just might be to take what you need in life and give what you don’t away. it just might change the world. or at least feed it for a day.

i wrote a letter to my grandma in june and didn’t get to send it from north carolina like i’d wanted because it’s hard to find a post office in Asheboro. i need to write a new one. i haven’t written a prayer email to my prayer ninjas in many many months. but i did meet with my mentor last month at Joe’s on Hulen and had devoured some delicious ravioli whilst chatting about being married, engaged, and a follower of Jesus Christ.

my work email addy might be compromised. and it might be my fault for following a link from “business continuity team,” whatever that means. is it bad if you trust marriott enough to enter your address and passcode into a non-marriott site at the behest of marriott?

i need to blog more. i need to be more productive with my time. i need to go see Christmas lights more than once this year. i need to read faster. i still don’t want kids. i’m praying that Russ gets his job offer from Bank of America. and that they finally cut him his commission check from 2 months ago. i need to understand how to treat people well because i respect them. i need to fight through my cynicism and arrogance and respect people. at least a little bit more. and i have a doozy of a blog coming soon. i’m proud of being Korean, but not really THAT proud. more to come.

plaid is in, flannelgrams: out.

Target advertises its self-proclaimed appeal to frugalistas by showing models who would never wear clothes from Target without being paid to do so. michelle says that you can almost never find the clothes being worn in ads in the stores.

i just got an amazon.com giftcard from my in-laws last month. combined with a card from Charter (something for nothing? go figure), i got a bunch of new cds and a dvd. among them is Emiliana Torrini’s “Love in the Time of Science.” i’m having a heckuva time remembering how i found out about her, but the record is blowing my mind. inside and out. especially the last seventy-five seconds. same country as Bjork, this girl. hmmm. something to that.

Pepsi’s local bottler stopped delivering Ethos water to my hotel. now they’re trying to push Aquafina on me. ugh.

i saw this trailer a while back, and my mentor has already been to see it for free at the Modern (which has a deal with Magnolia Pictures, apparently???). while i’ve been a radio fan of the White Stripes since “fell in love with a girl”, i’m beginning my education in rock and roll with my first White Stripes cd, aptly titled “the White Stripes.” so help you God, all you who find yourselves with me and a guitar in the same room.

the books i’m currently reading: Sophie’s World (which i first killed in humanities my senior year of high school), Speed of Trust by 7 Habits author Stephen Covey’s son Stephen Covey (isn’t that the height of arrogance-or hope-to name your kid after yourself?), and Branding Faith by Phil Cooke.

i saw geese, hundreds of them, flying south as i was driving home from work today. it made me simultaneously feel triumphant and sad enough to cry. the V’s weren’t perfect, but they were long and they were many and the V’s intersected. maybe my eyes were tricking me, but i swear some of the geese towards the back were simply floating, not even flapping their wings, just resting and riding the air that their precursors and leaders had put in motion.  it made me think about the Church.

did you know that a V formation is an aerodynamic way to fly? did you know that geese, when tired, fall towards the back of the V because it requires less effort than to be at the forefront? did you know there was a contest recently that took submissions to improve air transportation and that one of the more intriguing ideas was having passenger aircraft fly in a similar formation to save fuel if their destinations were relatively nearby? it made me think about the Church.

after hearing artist Susan Rothenberg talk for an hour about horses and how she was never a horse girl but drew and painted them for years, adding and subtracting, hiding and exposing, i’m wondering if artists simply start off thinking way too much about life as children but actually do something about it to share with the world, unlike philosophers. it made me think about the Church.

see one of Susan’s horses. run, run, run.

See Susan paint. Paint. Paint. Paint.

my choice, for better or worse

i have often thought to myself that God is powerful. somewhere along the line in a theology class, the traditional notion of omnipotence was challenged (and soundly defeated). the word omnipotence is nowhere to be found in scripture and although “almighty” is, the understanding of God’s power has at least 2 contrasting views: a Hellenistic and an earlier Hebrew point of view. culturally, people like to think of their deities as limitless and powerful. who wants a wimpy god? and so the Greeks told tales of gods who controlled life and death, the afterlife, thunder, rain, and other larger-than-human-life things. a display of power was the same as flexing infinite biceps or pecs. on the other hand, rabbis told a different story.

consider a brief story: two men and their daughters are camping alone through the countryside when they are attacked. their children are kidnapped in the chaos and the fathers are left near death. it just happens that the men have a particular set of skills and experience that make them very dangerous to bad people such as the ones who took the daughters. so they recover and set out to find the basterds who did this. invariably, their search is successful and they free their children, and end up with the criminals at gun point. the first father pulls the trigger without hesitation. the second puts his gun down and pulls the other dad away preventing further bloodshed.

who is more “powerful” in that scenario? the one who carries out the extent of possibility, ending a life? or the one who has the same chance but restrains, regardless of how badly he wanted to exact retribution?

the Hebrew view was that restraint was exhibition of power beyond anything a display of power could ever show.

it’s far more important for me to be on the side of the “most” powerful than to grapple with the impossibility and circles of logic when people stomp their foot and frown and insist that God is “all” powerful.

there’s a guitar player who once remade a hymn and added this chorus that blew my mind:

“There is an eye that never sleeps
Beneath the wing of night,
There is an ear that never shuts
When sink the beams of light.
There is an arm that never tires
When human strength gives way,
There is a love that never fails
When earthly loves decay.
But there’s a power which man can wield
When mortal aid is vain.

That eye, that arm, that loves to reach
The listening ear to gain.
That power is prayer which soars on high,
Through Jesus to the throne,
Which moves the Hand which moves the world
To bring salvation down, bring salvation down.”

besides the creepy Eye of Providence reference and some slightly gray theological statements, the idea that words uttered from my dry and cracked lips can set in motion the hand of God, or stay it, as Moses did, blows my mind.

which brings us to this. knowledge is a power of sorts, and we often lack power ourselves simply because we have a distorted view or incomplete picture of ourselves as individuals. there are things that you, dear reader, see about me that i have missed or choose to overlook. and in your hand, you hold the power to transform a part of me. and when you restrain those mighty and astonishing words, you dam up the change that is within my grasp, but out of my reach for whatever reason.

i do the same thing. i don’t delude myself into thinking i’m deeply intuitive or discerning. but i see things that you may not see, i recognize symptoms and toxic patterns that you unwittingly live out time and again, and i silently allow you to cut yourself or purge or self destruct or bow to your self-imposed slave driver or allow yourself to wallow and waste away.

for some, i don’t have the voice to intervene. you haven’t granted me access to that VIP area of your life… and unwanted, uninvited over-intimacy is a shining definition for rape.

for others, i simply watch. there’s no good or redeeming reason. i may have said something to you in the past that you ignored and i have this crazy mellow-dramatic idea that my words are valuable because they are not common. a wedding ring with a semi-pave corn kernel setting will simply not fly. no store accepts pesos for dollars at a one to one exchange.

for whatever reason, i observe. quietly. watching. knowing and understanding now and then. but my silence is consent, and this is my first attempt to break it. and to brake it.

so, for you, the friend that defines yourself by what’s wrong with you and by what you lack, look up. and to you, the friend that shoe-gazes when the world is your oyster, reach out. and you, too, the friend that discounts your own worth by knocking zero’s off your price tag and calling the clearance sale price fair, look in. and to you, the “out of control” one, you who throw yourself at undeserving manipulating nobodies and calling it destiny, look again. to the friend who dares not to light a fire again because of how badly you were once burned, pick the lighter up again. not for a cigarette, but for your heart.

lift your eyes up.

where does your help come from?

a peculiar societal norm

ever since i started at my new hotel, i’ve had multiple conversations with people about whether or not i have kids and when i’ll have them and then when it’s discovered that i don’t want any (oh the horror!), i start having all sorts of interesting conversations. a few days ago, i came up against my toughest questioning, a nice girl who’s my age and has 2 kids of her own. now, we come from vastly different backgrounds, but she used adjectives like ’sad’ and ‘lonely’ to describe childless adults such as myself. and so, i’m renewing my self-exploration as to what it is that makes me not want kids, especially when so many people can’t wait to pop the buggers out.

it’s very important that anyone who reads this should understand that i’m not making judgements and that i don’t apply the standards to which i hold myself to anyone else. people who want kids should have kids.

 however, i’ll go ahead and throw some kindling on whatever fires of controversy burn on whatiseikon: if you have 6+ kids, you have too many. you know it, your kids wearing the 12 year old Lee hand-me-down jeans know it, the people who are around you know it and they talk about you with a mixture of fear, disbelief, and disdain. nobody cares about Jon or Kate. everybody wishes Nadya would just go away. (6 is an almost arbitrary number: the Sanborns have 5 kids and Gilbert and Cherie are just about the greatest parents i’ve ever seen. so i’m going to guess that any more and their heads would melt into a ball of mush. anyway, on to my list.)

-first and foremost, there are too many people in the world. there are 6.7 billion people estimated to be running around this great planet. Chad thinks that i’m wrong when i say that the world isn’t designed to support a population of this sheer size. that’s because he’s silly. feasibly, a finite number of resources could be shared to support an almost infinitely increasing population assuming that everyone played nice and shared and took what they needed. look around and ask yourself, “do people play nice?” i’d like to contribute my life to the benefit of the world, not the overpopulation of it.

-google and read about the sixth extinction. nuff said.

-the US consumes about 25% of the world’s energy yearly. we have about 5% of the world’s population. China, on the other hand has 20% of the world’s population (and is growing 5.5% per year). so if they decide we’re using too much energy (bear with me here), they could make a compelling case at chopstick-point that we need to hand over our incandescent bulbs and SUVs. plus, Jet Li > Chuck Norris (at his current age).

- [insert here] any number of “the world is a crazy place to bring a child into.” think of Baghdad, Mogadishu, Hugo Chavez, USC, pedophiles, smog, Osama’s facial hair, the weakening of the US dollar, ozone depletion, mad bird swine cow flu disease, toy recalls, evil pharmaceutical companies, frivolous lawsuits, child trafficking, DRM, and the like.

-buying a new wardrobe for a pregnant wife. buying pickles and ice cream during the fourth quarter of a Bears game for a pregnant wife. water that breaks.

-to epidural or not to epidural… that is the question.

-diapers. mountains and mountains of diapers. no sleep for a full night. for a very long time. sore backs and arms.

-screening babysitters. paying babysitters. going back home early to let the babysitter go.

-paying about $240,000 over 18 years to raise a child. that’s right, a quarter million dollars.

-unless Nordstrom’s legendary customer service is a reality, you can’t return the kid if you’re not completely satisfied.

-i would hate to spend my child’s life wishing she was grown up.

-i left the gate open today and Wash ran away. will i really do better with mini humans under my care? we bought 9 squash plants this past spring. none of them survived the summer, and we read the articles and followed the directions. how there no parenting license in the billions of governmental regulations?

-all the “what-if’s”… what if the baby has Downs’ syndrome? what if the baby grows up to be a mass murderer? what if i’m a bad parent? what if it looks less like its beautiful momma and more like its wonky daddy?

 

a few choice morsels that other folks came up with:

-in the 12 months after a child is born, sexual activity among average couples drops by more than 40%, with 25% of couples partaking only once a month. that is NOT acceptable.

-parents wishing to offset the C02 emissions resulting from bringing one child into the world would need to plant 1,073 trees.

-60% of mothers say having children caused friendships to be lost.

-childless people save on average 37% by being able to travel and take holidays outside school holidays. and we like to travel.

-women without children earn on average 95% of what men do, whereas women with children earn 75%.

 

Kate is horrified not only at her flabby belly, but the disaster her family has become.

i’m open to any scraps of wisdom anyone may have to toss this dog’s way. comments, please.

proud enough to burst

a student, who i wish i had gotten to know better, but spent some time with at a previous church, just said this and my brain exploded a little bit.

“I think it is interesting that Judaism is a specific following created by God, but Christianity isn’t. We created Christianity, and it is not the only way to Heaven. Jesus is.”

read her thoughts for yourself here.

so good!

great minds

well, someone beat us to it. kinda. our secret plot (no bombings involved, i promise) is a bit more controversial and will likely offend both sides of the abortion debate. we’ll see if it ever gets off the ground. cheers to Peachtree Presbyterian Church.

moron hell/more on hell

bullet points from notes on hell and some beautiful artwork, too…

–psychoanalytical thought says that guilt inevitably leads to some sort punishment, and if it’s not a literal hell, then persons usually find/create their own hell.

–different names for the being who rules hell: the beast, the deceiver, the father of lies.

–ancient hell: Egyptians were obsessed with immortality, as is evidenced by all the effort they went through simply to protect the physical body. in their art, especially in burial scenes, they painted deserts, crocs, lakes of flame. Egyptian mythology had 7 gates a person had to go through just to get to the entrance of the “afterlife.”  the book of the dead held the rituals and secrets to make it through these gates. Egyptians were the first culture known to believe that there was a soul that lived on after death. the god Osiris gave final judgment. unworthy souls were devoured by Amut (literally “hell mouth.” hmmm.) 

– <– Amut, the sexy beast that was part hippo, croc, and leopard. please note that while being devoured is generally an unpleasant experience, ancient Egyptians preferred to wander the underworld forever than to get eaten and simply cease existing.

–generally in ancient cultures, a person didn’t “go to hell” as much as hell consumed souls. the vast majority of art depicts beasts that consume souls across cultures. 

–Zoroaster, 6th century: Shinva bridge is where judgment takes place. it’s a razor thin bridge. you would start across bridge and only a good person would have a light soul, whilst the evil have heavy souls, and thus fall off the bridge.

 –the Bible: Old Testament only has brief references to hell: Sheol (the grave, the pit, abode of the dead, a gloomy place). it’s the destination of both the righteous and evil. it’s synonymous with separation from God. Isaiah 38:18-19

 –Sheol is not in NT. Hades is NT. Hades (from Greek mythology) is the ruler of the netherworld, as well as the domain itself. scholars assign the same meaning to both, not a place of torment, but just the realm of the dead. the first time hell is mentioned in reference to punishment is in Daniel 12:2.

 –visual depiction: Gehenna: trash heap where refuse was constantly burned. Matt 13:42, 25:41. 2 The: 1:8-9. question: where do theologians get the idea of the absence of the presence of God as the best depiction of hell? why? ancient notions of hell compare it to a lake; changing, undulating. it fits with the idea of anti-God, which is chaotic.

–Augustine felt that in order to appreciate grace, you had to know that the majority of people you knew were going to be damned. (fail, Augustine, fail.) in his Confessions: unbaptized infants could not go to heaven, because of original sin (until baptism). sexual sins were the worst in his book (look at City of God). and even worse than sex was something so vile it hardly bears mentioning: women. (fail again. i loves the ladies. i mean lady. too bad Augustine didn’t.) holy men latched onto his teachings to further their own agendas. especially within the past 300 years, preachers went on and on about the smell, visuals, the carnage, and scared people into the pews. as time went on, churches realized that the spectacle was attracting people, and as so many continue to do till this day, they did what they thought would bring the numbers.

–many early Christian pictures show the “abominable fancy”: the righteous observing the torment of the damned, almost gleefully, as if in the balcony of a theater. hmmm. sounds terrifyingly familiar.

 –Seth, crimson Egyptian God, and Pan, Greek god, half man, half beast with cloven hoofs who ruled sexual desire.

 –the serpent in Genesis was literally just a serpent. that changed once early Christians god their grubby little hands on the text, searching desperately for Satan where he had not previously been. if they’re one and the same, why does God grant Satan dominion over hell? over earth? really? he just cursed him above all wild animals…

 –in the 6th century, Pope Gregory comes up with the 7 deadly sins, calling this the work of the devil now. horns, tail, and much of the medieval Christian notions of Satan spring from imagery rather than scripture. (Alan Segal, Barnard College).

 –by the 10th century, Satan dominates religious art, having many forms, usually large, dark, or black. soon, in Renaissance thought, being far from God is far from light, far from warmth, and then, Satan becomes blue (read: cold). (sometimes portrayed as half human/half animal, or all animal, but blue). anyone who opposes the Catholic church becomes a friend of Satan and is thus depicted in art. it’s easy to find old paintings of Jews, with long hooked noses. Jews doubted the empty tomb, and thus those who doubt the Church become synonymous with Jews. plagues become blamed on those who trade with Jews. in 1236, Pope Gregory 9 condemns the Talmud as a Satanic text. Christians, puzzled by Muslim traditions of bathing frequently (ouch) dub Islamic bath houses temples to the Devil.

–2 poets who formed new perceptions of Hell: Dante Algheri, writer of the Divine Comedy. it’s inspired by events in the author’s life. the Vatican wanted control of all of Tuscany. Dante believed that the Pope should share power with civic authority, so he was arrested and exiled.

 –the Divine Comedy has 9 circles of hell to punish specific sins. punishment goes with the severity of sin. perhaps this is the first time this notion is suggested? the unforgiveable act is betrayal of trust. the 9th circle is occupied by the great traitors. Celestine V is near the gate here (you can wiki why this might be) and Boniface VIII are both at this level. suddenly, Italian artists leave the traditional narratives of the Christian faith and switch to Dante’s version. the DC is translated quickly into every European language.

 –John Milton revolutionized the Devil, portraying him as a warlord with a huge ego. in real life, Milton lost 2 wives, 2 children, and his sight. “Paradise Lost” retells the story of Lucifer’s fall. “better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven” comes straight from the book. generally speaking, it’s hard to identify with God, but this version of Satan has a humanity that is relatable.

 –the problem of Job: Satan is listed here as an angel who tests humans. there’s no indication of timeline here, that the fall has already taken place. (we know how this goes). from Michael Sugrue, Ave Maria University: “Satan makes a wager with God. now this is profoundly diabolical. what could be more futile than betting against God? what are your chances of winning? zero. so why would anyone take such a bet? only to do evil for evil’s sake.”

 –something i personally like about the idea of hell/satan: if Satan has dominion over the earth and hell, i like the idea of revolution and insurrection against the ruling powers. perhaps the song as a whole is a bit cheesy, but the old hymn “this is my father’s world” flies in the face of the one who currently has the reigns… for now.

 –the Apostle’s Creed is written somewhere between the 2nd and 9th centuries. most theologians interpret the phrase “He descended into hell. the third day He arose again from the dead” to indicate not that Jesus had gone to hell for the damned or to battle Satan, but that Jesus had descended to Sheol to free the souls of the righteous who had been waiting there.

 –see Catholic tradition “ the harrowing of hell.” guess which one of Chad’s fave theologians wrote about this odd little doctrine? hint: it rhymes with vermillion.

 special thanks to the history channel for all their research that i’m now relaying.

my midyear’s resolution and it’s first fruit

i decided a month or so ago to try and finish 1 book a month for the remainder of the year. i’m on my way, with my first completed book in a while being written by a local writer, Rebecca Turner. as far as i know, she hasn’t written anything else, which is probably just as good, unless she gets a new editor. i think i could write a 200 page book in one sitting and make fewer grammatical errors. i don’t blame her, i blame her manuscript people, and the people who skimmed the drafts and ok’d them without correcting the numerous errors. but once one gets over that, she has a number of good things to say. the book, Tattoo, features a buff arm with tattoo of the word “tattoo” photoshopped across a buff bicep, which is later identified as belonging to Ken Stone, who i believe is the owner of Fit for Life, which is a local health club. the bottom line question posed is what would possess a person to love a brand or company enough to get their logo tattooed prominently across an easily exposed body part, such as a shoulder or neck? if you had to guess what company it was, i’ll bet you’d decide that it was Harley Davidson–and you’d be correct.

Turner is a financial adviser at a firm i’d never heard of (which is meaningless, coincidentally). she’s obviously a female. her black and white picture on the sleeve shows a middle aged lady in a conservative business suit, more grimacing than smiling alongside the people she works with, none of whom are unfortunate looking, but all are gritting their teeth also. Turner has owned 2 Harleys. hardly predictable, huh?

she has had excellent experiences with a few companies, large and small, local and international, and points out their similarities with ease. the main characteristic is that they have created (willingly or not) what is termed “consumer advocates,” or people who do the advertising and marketing that really sticks and do so completely unsolicited. rare, indeed. there are the usual vaguely inspirational quotes at the beginning of each chapter from quasi-famous people who are known for things other than famous quotes. but the meat of the book is so time specific that it almost is obsolete only 3 years after the first publishing. predictably, she points at Starbucks and their numerous options and the warmth of their staff that leads to massive growth and profitability. of course, any follower of current business events knows that Starbucks is closing stores by the hundreds and cutting back on their business ventures like music production.

all that said, for a rookie author, Ms. Turner has seen some unique things and does a good job describing what it is that can push an average customer over the edge to the point of raving about a company and being that consumer advocate that any company or business would dream of having.

Tattoo isn’t a must read, but is a good opening effort into marketing fare with a local flair for Funkytown aficionados.

*** of *****

in other current news, Chad and i went to his Brite Seminary field year supervisor orientation where i substituted for Krin from Ridglea and was introduced as “Pastor joseph brandley” for the first (and last?) time. truly amusing, especially when Chad leaned over a moment later and asked if i was ordained or not. i’m not. but a while ago back in soCal, we chatted about it and while Chad seemed ready to move forward, i suggested that he give me a set of tasks to prove my worth. or at least ask me 3 questions like in that Monty Python movie. i think i’ll stick to that Herculean task list idea. much more interesting to talk about. one can imagine the conversations later in life…. “when were you ordained?”

“gosh, i don’t remember, it was so long ago and it didn’t really mean much to me other than interesting tax loopholes.”

“oh, i remember the day clearly. it was because i had just smuggled sex slaves out of their Ukranian mafia brothel, dug a well to provide clean water for a bushman tribe in Zambia, swam across the Gulf of Aqaba to evangelize to opium drug lords wearing an Old Navy american flag tee shirt, and then spent 24 hours praying in a kneeling position without standing up or falling asleep. so what did you have to do to get ordained?”

“uhh, i preached a few times and then some old folks wearing plaid and pastel voted in a room while i wasn’t there to give me the papers.”

i win.