a night worth staying up for.

i’m on the computer and I shouldn’t be. Oddly enough… doug and molly just started into a diatribe about having landed and just set foot into a world where everyone is determined to be attached to an electronic device. But I can’t help but write.

Tonight blake and I drove to the airport to pick up the whartons. Sitting in the car on the drive home was odd. But when I say that is was odd for me… I’m sure it was unimaginably more odd for doug and molly to be here with us. Molly says “This is so weird to be in this car with you guys. The roads are so smooth.” The last time the four of us were in a car together… well… the last memorable time we were in a car together was a night where we were all driving from the valley of the angels to the mountain of light. Doug decided to turn on the radio (normally a horrible idea in honduras) and u2 sang sunday bloody sunday. Naturally, we hung out the sides of the truck driving over the relatively dangerous mountains singing at the top of our lungs. I really got into the “O” parts.

Tonight we rode in silence from the airport.

We are sitting in the living room… and it is a reminder to me of what it is like to come back here. It is surprisingly easy to forget the rest of the world in a short amount of time. As the whartons sit here with us… i am remembering the majority of the world by looking at it through their eyes. Doug just said: “We are surrounded by luxuries right now. We are sitting on carpet”. I forget that that too has at points in my life struck me abnormal.

Damien Jurado is playing.. before him was gillian welch. It is fitting. I need to stop writing and get back to it. To living. To engage in the conversations that remind you of what living actually is.

peace

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a day of yick

– bad news
– bad stomach something or other. love being sick in summer.

yick resolved:
bad news: results in a probable trip to p-town
bad stomach: i think it all came up

doug and molly get home tonight. that will be pretty great too. as long as i don’t hurl on them.

oh.. and honduras could be a reality again in december. hot dog.

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sleepy, no sleep.

report: comfest 2007 = lame

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simple way

www.thesimpleway.org

help out if you can

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the neighbor – rilke

Strange violin, are you following me?
In how many distant cities has your
lonely night already spoken to mine?
Are a hundred playing you? Or just one?

Are there in all the great cities of the world
those, who without you, would have
already lost themselves in the great river?
And why does it always have to concern me?

Why am I always the neighbor of those
who in fear force you to sing
and to say: The heaviness of life
is heavier than the heaviness of all things.

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.

i am at a complete loss for words.

1981-2007

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an afternoon ride on my bike anticpating the arrival of a gem.

Today, as I have done many times over the past two years, I rode north down neil avenue. Before which I spent most of my morning in anticipation for the ride. I parked in the usual spot among the other socially conscious and/or poor folks who have no use for a car, car payment, insurance etc. I locked the bike using the same lock I have been using over the past four years. Then took a dunhill and zippo out of my pocket and started a slow walk towards the James. It wasn’t until I neared the door that I began to curse whatever plan it was that upon closing the main entrance of the hospital would force the pedestrian to enter the maternity ward through the James cancer center. It may not have been the entrance of the hospital itself that set off my mixed emotions, I’m sure that whatever spirit it is that guides the randomness of ipods and decided that transatalticism was the appropriate song for the occasion had something to do with my emotional confusion.

I wish that I didn’t know my way around that hospital so well.

It didn’t take long to find the family waiting with anticipation. After about a half an hour with both Mike’s Mother and Lianne’s parents the nurse arrived and announced that Ruby had been born at 3:51p.m. The moment everyone in the room had been waiting to hear… I was so excited to hear that, mike was a father, lianne was a mother, that the news began to overshadow the odd feeling that had overcome me in being in that place.

Since that time I have had thoughts of the beginning and the ending of life, joy and sorrow, despair and hope. With each new collision of thought there is no resolution. There is only the face of that beautiful crying baby, the worn out mother, and a new father.

It truly is a beautiful, hopeful, and delicate world. Welcome to it Ruby Dylan Redcay.

..

transatlanticism

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please include a photo with your application to the school of theology at UD

..
..

hmm.. now to decide which photo to send.

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i mean.. i listen to the new wilco during this.. but you are your own person

here it is

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been awhile

i haven’t really felt the need to post in awhile..

enough life going on to not really need to use the internet as a crutch.

updates:

back from Honduras. not entirely.
vintage motorcycles. honda 1976 cb360. i need leather fringe.
listening to lots of tom petty, dylan, & zeppelin. feels good to drop the pretentious indie world for a little while. don’t worry, I’ll be back indie world.
reading: wittgentstein, berry, & more berry
considering the next time and place to drop off the face of the world. how about nationwide?zaaaaaaaaaaa

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oh here I am..

at some point i neglected to mention that I have arrived and am not only alive but living.

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pictures

..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..

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next

back in town today and tomorrow.. will be leaving early sunday morning for honduras.

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a thought…

“… perhaps you are like me, so emeshed in this reality that another way is nearly unthinkable…. the dominent history of our own time, consists in briefcases and limousines, and press conferances and quotas and new weapondry systems. And that is not a place where much dancing happens…”

-w.b.

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pictures

I haven’t really taken many photos.. which I’m sure I will regret later… but here are a few:

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hi

this is to let you know that I’m alive.

I don’t want to waste more time than necessary on the internet.

it’s raining right now. a fantastic kind of rain.

visited an in-progress orphanage in the mountains yesterday in a little valley called “constanza”. We met a few hatian aid workers today. spent a lot of time reading. eating our share of rice and beans. We have found one cup of beans and one cup of rice is a perfectly sized meal for the two of us.

It seems like everything casey and I set out to do turns into gold. we walk out the door with no agenda and end up having the time of our lives. or if we do set out to do something specific we end up finding exactly what we were looking for without any idea of where we are going not to mention a sad lack of language skills.

I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about vocation and imagination… I’ll try to type them out as I have time.

peace

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bskidz

Good to see him again.

dude played open mic last night at ruby tuesdays… played one of his newer songs “revolution”… pretty fantastic.. the sooner he starts recording again. the better.

listen:
http://www.myspace.com/blakeskidmore

oh and there is a full-on show with he and hal hixon happening on tuesday evening. I’ll get you the details asap.

yeah.. and I leave for central america the next day.. so come to the show if you want to see me.

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getting ready

emails
phone calls
bills
doctors
mixed feelings
loose ends
loose grip on the future
anticipation
dylan

…take me disappearin’ through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow…

oh.. and wendell berry(again) on effectiveness:

Much protest is naive; it expects quick, visible improvement and despairs and gives up when such improvement does not come. Protesters who hold out for longer have perhaps understood that success is not the proper goal. If protest depended on success, there would be little protest of any durability or significance. History simply affords too little evidence that anyone’s individual protest is of any use. Protest that endures, I think, is moved by a hope far more modest than that of public success: namely, the hope of preserving qualities in one’s own heart and spirit that would be destroyed by acquiescence.

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a little more detail

that last entry was a little vague..

that was more for the people who knew that I was in the middle of the decision making process.

the story..

my friends matt and elisa leahy are traveling to honduras to begin their journey to: “give voice to those who would otherwise not be heard through the use of documentary film making”. They have asked me to join their latest project which they defined as

“to tell the story of the HIV/AIDS
epidemic (in honduras) told through the context of Montana de Luz, an orphanage
for children with AIDS,,. We aim to find threads of life that exist
despite the death that is supremely evident.”

I will be joining the noonday film team for their final week in honduras shortly after my trip to the domican republic. From there, I will be traveling to the island of Utila for one month of immersion language training. After that month I will spend a week at Montana de Luz. my plane ticket says that I will return on June 9th.

I’m too tired at the moment to spend much time writing about this… but i’d love to chat. Feel free to catch up with me in the next 9 days and I’ll tell you all about it.

Noonday films could use your support on this ambitious project.. you can donate here: http://noondayfilms.com/
MDL could use your support too: http://www.montanadeluz.org

and if you have some time on your hands:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/aids/view/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honduras

here are a few photos of utila:
http://www.aboututila.com/Photos/AdamLaverty/Sunset-Cays-04.JPG
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Road_Near_Munchies.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Road.jpg

dosn’t seem too bad.

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“..much protest is naive..”

I’ve decided to go. In 10 days I’ll be leaving. I’ll be back mid June.

I will post the details soon.

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would you do it?

If you could blow up the world with the flick of a switch
Would you do it?
If you could make everyobody poor just so you could be rich
Would you do it?
If you could watch everybody work while you just lay on your back
Would you do it?
If you could take all the love without giving any back
Would you do it?
And so we cannot know ourselves or what we’d really do…

With all your power
What would you do?

—
“…what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

not for sale.

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how to be a poet

(to remind myself)

“…

breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air
shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from anything
that obscures that place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and descecrated places.

Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.”

-W.B.

—————-

A few of you may have heard stories about the day we buried mark last year. And the bird that sang through the entire service.

on friday, amy and I went back to the grave site. a beautiful day, very much the same as the day one year previous. I didn’t expect it to be an emotional time for me. I just didn’t think I was going to feel it.

I was wrong.

I went there and couldn’t stop thinking about this whole thing on belief and hope and certainty and…

I sat there thinking about belief and how faith has become something that looks much more like wishful thinking… I want so badly to be certain about the christian doctrine of the resurrection of the dead… I want to know that everything will be made right.

So what do I do with doubt? I began to pray there… “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief” and as I prayed this same prayer over and over again, I began to think about what it would look like for my unbelief to be helped. Would it mean more confidence that I am “right”? Or is it possible that if faith looks more like hope than it does correctness, could more faith simply mean more desire.. more yearning for the world to be put to rights… more sight of where creation has been broken and more glimpses of creation being renewed.

Just as I was having that thought, a cardinal landed in the tree. The same tree he landed on one year ago. I nudged amy and pointed. We laughed a little to ourselves. And then he began to sing. He sang the kind of song that screams of life.

I tend to shun most instances of “answers to prayer”. I have too much trouble seperating providence and coincidence. I think maybe prayer just opens your eyes to the mundane things that are already around you and that you would have missed the glory of otherwise.

anyway..

When he sang, I was not given more confidence the rightness of what i believe.. but I was able to more fully pray: “God.. i hope so.”

I’ve renewed my subscription. I’m in for a little while longer.. I’m committed to seeing where this thing takes me.

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more today

breakfast with caldwell
nap
lunch with vicki
phone call with MI
bake beer bread for patience 21st
walk with casey
8:30 – sleep

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yesterday/today

invisible children
magic lamp
rock show
drool

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poems

on finding new poets ed suggest to go to the library and browse. ok.. on my way.

oh.. and after a few clicks i happened onto this guy:

“…At night I watch the moon and imagine exciting places
over the horizon. Only a fool does not see that the vast
industrial economies are temporary. I say too much. My
throat is infected with words. At the country hospital, I am
treated by a beautiful doctor. That evening we drink wine
from the valley on the balcony of the hotel. Look, she says,
the moon is moving into the distance, three centimetres
each year, which is the speed at which fingernails grow!
We sing revolutionary songs until all hours, drinking to
friendship between our two countries. In her language, the
word for ‘Sunday’ is ‘resurrection’. I leave the following
morning…”

read the rest of it here:

http://www.vuw.ac.nz/modernletters/bnzp/2001/brunton.html

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just when you thought…

so.. by saturday night it had been a pretty good weekend… and then came sunday. 70 to 75.. sunny… occasional breeze, park full of people to watch, blanket to lay on, book to ignore, weezer, ben harper, and good company. very good company.

my nose is sunburnt.

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i’ve had a better weekend than you.

..

oh.. and internet stalkers aren’t all bad.

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a battle in the war between good and evil

..

support your friends and artists:
http://www.sharonhbell.com/

i just thought about combining friends and artists by saying “fartists”. how mature. I’m sure you appreciate that… right sharon?

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thanks

whoever it is that is mailing me books. you are awesome.

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cinci

the weekend ended up being heavier than i expected.

the whole party was spent in this delapadated old cathedrel… at least they have heat there this year.

..

there were highlights… like playing chess in here with mcaughy..

..

that t.v. was a fish tank. I think all t.v.’s should be fish tanks.

oh.. and then this…

“There are some things in life, and they may be the most important things, that we cannot know by research or reflection, but only by committing ourselves. We must dare in order to know. Life is full of situations to which I can respond not with part of myself but only with commitment of my whole being.”

cincinati weekend

live music. missed one show so far.

recorded music. bought the latest american analogue set.

celebrated the feast of st. francis with beer, humus, veggies, beer…

last night marshall asked me to come and tell 200 folks at st. elizabeths about mark’s life and passing. i had thought about spending the morning at the speckled bird, and instead i stood in front of these people and told them that mark was my friend. I wasn’t really prepared.. so I hope I at least said that. but.. I think it took me about 15 minutes.. so who knows what it was that came out.

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oh.. and..

a sunny porch with Coronas and Polaroids look like this:

..

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yesterday

brothers karamzov
corona on sunny porch. no shoes. poloroids
big salad
kentucky for appleseed cast

weekend:
thinspace
back to kentucky for mewithoutyou

apple seed cast looks like this:

..

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Tears of Mourning and Birthing of Hope

..
March 15
Time: 5:30 to 6:30
Location: Capitol Square
This contemplative prayer service will include praying for our enemies (whether they be around the world or in your own household)
If you need a ride, be at 64 king at 5:00 p.m.

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sitting beneath the big tree

..

if you squint, you can see nicaragua.. neat.

at some point while sitting here, i told molly that this very spot was in my top 5 list of places in the world. she asked where the other 4 were and i said they were all in the adirondak mountains… moon ledge, split rock, angel falls, schroon manor… and then we laughed that she knew of the places I was talking about.

life is weird.

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another story

I was in a pretty dark place a year ago…

I remember talking to doug about Molly’s decision to leave everything to be with those children in honduras. and in the middle of the conversation doug looks at my arm and asked what it meant to me… he asked: “Is that really hope or just some ink on your arm? Because…” he said “If it is just some ink on your arm, than Molly and I quit. We are not going down there just to be marytrs, this isn’t downward mobility for mobility’s sake. We are going down there to create a new reality that we believe is possible precisely because of what is happening here. If you are telling me that thing is just ink, than we are coming home.”

I’ve thought about that conversation a lot. Hell, I quit my job and went to work with them not long after. During my last trip we were hauling bricks to build a new school in the town of Neueva Esperanza (please keep reading into what that translates to) when the edge of one of the bricks scraped across my forearm leaving my tattoo to bleed toward my fingers. It was profound, to say the least, to see this healing tree suffer as it worked toward a better world. The scabs from the scrape lasted the rest of the week.

It was the first time I have felt comfortable with this on my arm. It was the first time that this was more than just ink.

These next two weeks are going to be tough. I sure do miss him.

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battered and torn / still I can see the light / Tattered and worn / But I must kneel to fight

“…If I say, I will not mention Him,
Or speak any more in His name,
There is my heart as it were a burning fire
Shut up in my bones,
And I am weary with holding it in,
And I cannot…”

– The Prophet Who Wept

“…I don’t know how a man decides
What’s right for his own life
It’s all a mystery

I’m a man, not a boy
And there are things you can’t avoid
You have to face them
When you’re not prepared to face them…”

-The Flaming Lips

Family, Friends, Enemies, Lurkers:


Announcement:

March 15th will be my last official day at Montana de Luz. I am leaving disappointed. I am leaving excited.

I’m disappointed because Montana is revealing the inevitable future of the world. It is healing to be in the middle of that hope. God knows we all need healing. I made friends there. I will miss them. I will miss the gift of being with Marlon, Wendy Uno, Celestina, Tato, Jamie, Leyla, Kevin, Kevin Omar, Dilma… you get the idea.

I’m excited because I was given the opportunity to taste hope. I was given the gift of healing. I have seen the future of the world. I will not look away. Everything from here on out will be more, not less.

The director of MDL recently asked what it is that I took away from my time at Montana. This is what I told her:

It is easy to despair. Life gives us an excuse to define the world as a tragedy. It does not take much effort to see the strangle hold that war, death, disease, deceit, abandonment, fear… have on our world. Even people themselves reinforce our despair.

At Montana, there are 30 Honduran staff members and 5 U.S. citizens who are all using their lives to create a better world for 22 children. Without the efforts of these folks these children would be abandoned to the death sentence that they been given. People who give their lives for these children are real. They are truth. They are beauty. And in light of such beauty we are given the opportunity to define our world as a place that has love at its very core. We are given hope that another world is possible.

To see tragedy but embrace hope in place of despair is healing.

I hope that I am leaving the project with as much as I took from it.

Details on My Departure:

I’m not an accountant. I wouldn’t know a detail if it punched me the face. That much is obvious, now. I am not a bean counter.

Leaving Montana will give me the chance to search for what it is that I am made to do.

Leaving Montana will give them the chance to have an accountant. A real one.

This in and of itself would not be enough reason for us to part ways. It was simply the piece of the puzzle that made it most clear that my departure would be better for both me and the project.

I’m leaving on good terms. I will continue to support their work. You should too.

What is Next:

Gardening
The Dominican Republic (I hope to leave in 8 days)
Couch Surfing (www.globalfreeloaders.com)
Beard Growing
Hiking
Bread Baking
Reading (I have a list)
Living Simply
Screaming
Looking for the kingdom with the landingplace community

I hope to see you there.

Grace and Peace,

Philip Storer
Insurgo Pacificus

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road trip…

..

yeah.. camera phones are stupid.

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what’s next?

whatever comes next.. i hope it tastes something like this:

..

upon taking a sip of my blended watermelon, i decided to take this picture. I showed doug how happy he was after taking a sip of his and he says: “And i don’t even have a 401k”

brilliant!

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more from honduras

this is someone’s house in the capitol of Honduras. they dug out the side of a hill and put a door on it.

..

this is the big tree. they call it: “the big tree”. this picture dosen’t really do it any justice. to give you an idea.. the trees to the right of the “the big tree” are full size trees. if that dosn’t help.. the little specs just below the tree, are horses. its big

..

this is from the the porch. I call it: “the porch”

..

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it’s not a cry that you hear at night. It’s not somebody who’s seen the light.

Love is not a victory march….
..

…It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.
..

this girl waits for me in the morning with open arms. of course.. when i said i wanted to keep `her, blake says “dude, i can find you a smarter one”

..

this is our family photo

..

revolution? not on my watch.
..

you shouldn´t have favorites.
..

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uh

209 views today. I don’t even know 209 people. that means some of you are really bored.

see you in a week.

oh yeah.. i almost forgot. it has been pointed out to me that there is a pretty sweet kid chillin in the background of the picture of me and patience. check him out.

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honduras photos

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rumors – details

So.. we are fine. I’ve got a pretty sore back, and Patience has a raging headache.. but yeah.. we’re fine.

For those of you who missed the details…

It turns out that I’m in the states for 3 days.. thursday, friday saturday.. it was somewhat unplanned.. but I’m here. I had planned on just laying low and taking it real easy until I flew out again.. I wasn’t really going to be here, in the states, long enough to really do anything, or see everyone, and what time I would be here I figured I would be working in the office.

Then.. on the way back from the clintonville cup of joe I hear patience yell “Look out!” I turn just in time hit the breaks, smack the car in front of me… airbags deploy.. I see a big dent in the windshield and patience holding her head…

the details are a little fuzzy from there. but at least we got to spend an ungodly amount of time in the hospital.

..>..>

so much for laying low

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tristeza y una nueva esperanza

Vasantrao:

“I often felt like weeping at what I read- stories of misery, caste violence, government callousness, official arrogance, police brutality. I’m certain many of us felt that way and an emotional outburst would be quite normal. ‘But too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart’… I think that sometimes normal behavior has to be suppressed, in order to carry on.”

Maneck:

“I’m not sure, said Maneck. ‘wouldn’t it be better to respond honestly instead of hiding it? Maybe if everyone in the country was angry or upset, it might change things’”

Vasantrao:

“Just try to imagine six hundred million ragging, howling sobering humans. Everyone in the country… all losing control of themselves. What a catastrophe… Chaos. Complete chaos… Scientists haven’t done any research on the effects of mass hysteria and mass suicide upon the environment… If a butterfly’s wings can create atmospheric disturbances halfway round the world, who knows what might happen in our case. Storms? Cyclones? Tidal waves? What about the land mass, would it quake in empathy? Would the mountains explode? What about rivers, would the tears from twelve hundred million eyes cause them to rise and flood?… No, it’s too dangerous. Better to carry on in the usual way.“

Maneck:

“… you speak so differently. Almost like a poet.”

Vasantrao:

“… You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair…. By the way, my name is Vasantrao Valmik, and he held out his hand.”

-a fine balance

In this internal place of speed, movement and travel created by the external, physical and tangible realities of the present, I am reminded of the conversation between doug and I beneath “the big tree” of Yuesceran. We lamented the tension of such a beautiful world filled with such intense brokenness and apathy… and now as I sit in this wintery place of caffeine-scented familiarity, I maintain a fine balance between hope and despair.

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promise

..

if i look up and the sky’s not there,
is there any reason i should be scared
but a promise, is a promise…

i know.

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otra ves…

¨every child brings in to the world a new beginning of life, and grows into the dawning fullness of life to come… A society which presses its children into the existing patterns of the adult world is robbing itself of its own future. With every child something new comes into the world, and from these renewals of life we can expect something for the hoped-for kingdom of peace and fullfilled life… the child is the eternal messiah who returns again and again among fallen men and women, in order to lead us into the kingdom of heaven¨

-jurgen moltmann
in the end – the beginning

another quick post from honduras.

after yesterdays post, lauren doug and I spent some time at the mythical ¨big tree¨ in yusceran and went to an incredible little resteraunt overlooking the mountains. we talked about hope and despair in such a time and place… discouraging and beautiful, they were the conversations that make life worth living.

the next morning, an older gentleman on our team talked about an arrogant young man (obviously speaking of himself) Who thought he could overcome anything. He consequently joined the marines and went to Vietam… He told us how he could push through everything that he saw.. but the one thing that he couldn´t live with was the faces of the children. he talked about trying to close his eyes to what he had done, but he inadvertantly had closed his heart. Then he spoke of this trip to Montana de luz as a time of healing, a time of active repentance, as he spent time loving our children 35 years later. He is now speaking of peace.

they will lead us to the kingdom of heaven…

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yuscaron..

there are few things more healing in all of the world than getting out of a pickup truck and being greated with a chorus of “felipe!” by a mob of excited children… kevin hobbeling over and greeting me with a hug whispering.. “mi amigo..”

and of course, marlon. As happy as he was to see me.. I´m pretty sure that my excitement had him beat.

Im back in yuscaron.. the last time I was here I was pretty sure that I would live here. Oddly enough, when lauren and I were wandering around asking for the internet… we were mistakenly taken for a married couple looking for a place to live that HAD internet access. So… we just went with it..

We were given a tour and found a place that I would LOVE to live in.. high ceilings, spacious rooms, wood fired stove in the backyard.. and a garden that adam and eve would have envied.

hmmmmmm… oh so tempting.

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outie

To the folks i haven’t seen, and the conversations I haven’t had, and the loose ends left undone, I appologize. I’ve been a little blindsided by the past week and on top of that I have a trip to honduras that I hadn’t exactly planned on and have been rushing around trying to prepare for.

Please send me a note, if I haven’t replied to your email, call, myspace message, voicemail, etc. I’ll get back to you sometime after Febuary 12th.

I’ll be keeping myself busy down there with classic russian literature (following dougs lead), more berry poetry, and ‘a fine balance’ (purchased for me by vicki) and of course listening to plenty of woody guthry and amos lee..

I hope to see you soon.

“…Heaven is calling
The new world is falling
and i can sympothize…”

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beauty

Beauty is a fearful and terrible thing. Fearful because it’s undefineable, and it cannot be defined, because God gave us only riddles. Here the shores converge, here all contradictions live together. So terribly many mysteries! Too many riddles oppress man on earth. Solve them if you can without getting your feet wet. Beauty! … The terrible thing is that beauty is not only fearful but also mysterious. Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart.

– Mitya, the brothers karamazov
Fyodor Dostoevsky

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they laid Jesus Christ in His grave

an unplanned trip to honduras… I’ll be leaving wen. early in the a.m.

So i’m a little stuck in Ironton.. not such a bad thing. In a newly cleaned basement, Kyle and I put on some tunes, cracked open the most oily lookin’, thickly drippin’, jon arbuckle(garfield) style thick coffee oozing, bottle of stout, smoked honduran cigars and played chess. Kyle says “I’m going to open a cigar and chess bar down here and call it church”. I laughed. We shared our pains.. had honest conversation.. laughed a little.. and had a damn good time. The evening hit a climax when woody guthrie snuck up on me and hit me the face with the gospel.

I also got a chance to watch the meyers struggle through what it means to love the loveless.. to talk openly about fear.. to attempt to give hope to folks without it. The hints of conversation that pointed to the possibilty of being with them and working with them, gave me hope.. I am imagining futures worth looking forward to.

so in a few days I will join doug, molly, blake and lauren and hope for more of the same inbreaking visions of the kingdom of God. I will attempt to sort through, and not run from a life of fear, doubt, and dishonesty and go deeper into love, trust, and truth.

—

p.s. I’m not gay.. i only changd it to that to lighten the shock of those who suddenly see my status as single. It was meant to make you laugh. Oh.. and as a tip.. if you change it to gay, you loose all of those “True” advertisements containing pictures of all of those ladies who are anything but.

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praying drunk

man.. talk about a rough day. but this made it better:

My friend posted this poem as a “poem for people who don’t like poetry”

Praying Drunk

by Andrew Hudgins

Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk.
Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks.
I ought to start with praise, but praise
comes hard to me. I stutter. Did I tell you
about the woman, whom I taught, in bed,
this prayer? It starts with praise; the simple form
keeps things in order. I hear from her sometimes.
Do you? And after love, when I was hungry,
I said, Make me something to eat. She yelled,
Poof! You’re a casserole! – and laughed so hard
she fell out of bed. Take care of her.

Next, confession – the dreary part. At night
deer drift from the dark woods and eat my garden.
They’re like enormous rats on stilts except,
of course, they’re beautiful. But why? What makes
them beautiful? I haven’t shot one yet.
I might. When I was twelve I’d ride my bike
out to the dump and shoot the rats. It’s hard
to kill your rats, our Father. You have to use
a hollow point and hit them solidly.
A leg is not enough. The rat won’t pause.
Yeep! Yeep! it screams, and scrabbles, three-legged, back
into the trash, and I would feel a little bad
to kill something that wants to live
more savagely than I do, even if
it’s just a rat. My garden’s vanishing.
Perhaps I’ll plant more beans, though that
might mean more beautiful and hungry deer.
Who knows?
I’m sorry for the times I’ve driven
home past a black, enormous, twilight ridge.
Crested with mist it looked like a giant wave
about to break and sweep across the valley,
and in my loneliness and fear I’ve thought,
O let it come and wash the whole world clean.
Forgive me. This is my favorite sin: despair-
whose love I celebrate with wine and prayer.

Our Father, thank you for all the birds and trees,
that nature stuff. I’m grateful for good health,
food, air, some laughs, and all the other things I’ve never had to do
without. I have confused myself. I’m glad
there’s not a rattrap large enough for deer.
While at the zoo last week, I sat and wept
when I saw one elephant insert his trunk
into another’s ass, pull out a lump,
and whip it back and forth impatiently
to free the goodies hidden in the lump.
I could have let it mean most anything,
but I was stunned again at just how little
we ask for in our lives. Don’t look! Don’t look!
Two young nuns tried to herd their giggling
schoolkids away. Line up, they called, Let’s go
and watch the monkeys in the monkey house.
I laughed and got a dirty look. Dear Lord,
we lurch from metaphor to metaphor,
which is -let it be so- a form of praying.

I’m usually asleep by now -the time
for supplication. Requests. As if I’d stayed
up late and called the radio and asked
they play a sentimental song. Embarrassed.
I want a lot of money and a woman.
And, also, I want vanishing cream. You know-
a character like Popeye rubs it on
and disappears. Although you see right through him,
he’s there. He chuckles, stumbles into things,
and smoke that’s clearly visible escapes
from his invisible pipe. It make me think,
sometimes, of you. What makes me think of me
is the poor jerk who wanders out on air
and then looks down. Below his feet, he sees
eternity, and suddenly his shoes
no longer work on nothingness, and down
he goes. As I fall past, remember me.

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i thought he wanted to kill me.

It is creepy as hell for me to read those posts from earlier today. That was aweful..(read: awe-filled)

It is so hard to deal with the fact that I had no idea what to do even when it turned out exactly as I had expected.

I was completely powerless. Unskilled. Ignorant.

Tonight I have lost all innocent and sentimental notions that the cross will ever be simple. Sometimes I wish I could have those notions back. I wish I could close my eyes, be blind, dumb.. and happy.

addiction.. death.. rage… in the face of these things.. can we truly ask:
How could I have loved more completely? More honestly? More openly? More sacrificially? Certainly it is the truthful persuit of these questions that will constitute nights like this as peace-making. because.. in reality.. i’m so tempted by my ability to speak anger.. frustration.. accusation.

Is it possible to overcome the feeling of self-preservation that seems to overwhelm you when you are in danger. Is it truly possible to love and not fear?

I feel like I have tried. And I think that I have failed.

It will be very interesting to try again.

Excuse me while I let the older gentleman at the bottom of the page sing to me over and over again until I fall asleep.

Peace on my friends and enemies this night, and everynight.

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conversation with jeremy

[12:04] jerpifer: What about the catholic worker house?
[12:04] fillstorer: I’ve emailed..
[12:04] fillstorer: no response as of yet
[12:05] jerpifer: I’ll keep thinking
[12:05] fillstorer: cool
[12:05] jerpifer: if you need me there at 10:30 i’ll be there
[12:05] fillstorer: cool. good to know.
[12:09] fillstorer: i hope thats a backup plan.. I’m really hoping we can come up with a good solution of finding him a place for the evening.. and then looking into how to find permenant residences for these guys
[12:11] jerpifer: I agree but it the guy is dangerous we aren’t exactly well equipped to handle it
[12:11] fillstorer: no.. were not. but he has only lashed out verbally when provoked..
[12:12] fillstorer: so i dunno.. i think we are and we aren’t… sustained training around the table, should be letting us know we are joining christ in his death as well as resurrection which in turn should tell us we’re equiped to handle just about anything..
[12:12] fillstorer: its kind of a rubber meets the road kind of thing.. i just hope that if i go down.. i’m not going down alone
[12:12] jerpifer: provoked? Sounded more like he lashed out when you were being honest… dont get me wrong, I’d be pissed about sleeping in the cold too
[12:13] jerpifer: your not going down alone that for sure, I hope we can help him
[12:13] fillstorer: although if i have to go down ( and i do ) i hope this is what it looks like
[12:14] jerpifer: HA! Amen
[12:14] fillstorer: you said amen.
[12:14] fillstorer: dork.
[12:14] fillstorer:
[12:14] jerpifer: shut up
[12:15] fillstorer: I’m posting this whole conversation on my blog
[12:15] jerpifer: what is your blog… I thought you shut it down?
[12:15] fillstorer: ha!
[12:15] fillstorer: myspace bitches
[12:15] jerpifer: oh and you’re caling me a dork

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frustated

again.. beyond the obvious..

last night.. tim got a little obstinate. this morning he his language got pretty violent. its making me nervous.. but more than nervous.. its frustrating. i think this would be a lot less difficult if i was living in community with folks.. i definitely can’t do this alone.

i guess i have a pretty good intellectual understanding of how love and fear are opposites.. and how the hope of bodily resurrection allows us to truly love (i.e. self sacrafice) in the sense that we live without fear of loosing our own lives. but fleshing that out is pretty freakin scary.

so.. all that to say.. if there are any dudes out there in the c-bus area who are reading this and look real tough but would be willing to do nothing more than pray with me while we got the shit kicked out of us… I’d be interested in having you stay the night tonight.

odly enough, i think that video i posted yesterday is a pretty big deal in all of this… it has a johny cash “hurt” feeling to it.. I have a pretty big fear of growing old.. i also can’t wait for it. I guess it all hangs on how well I’ve loved in the life I’ve lived.. I know I’m going to look back at life and realize how short it was no matter if I’m killed in my 20s or I decay in my 70s. That video just makes you stare at the fragility of life.. makes me ask the bigger quesitons.. makes me deal with what is important. I guess thats the definition of good art in my mind.

“if i can love just one, it won’t be for nothing”

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When you try your best, but you don’t succeed…

what a weird couple of days…
beyond the obvious.. I’ll tell you about it.

so my apartment has become the only homeless shelter in the short north. Last night, Tim, a new guy, came over.. and since opening my house to people without homes.. this was the first time I really wanted to say.. “look pal, i know its cold, but im having a bad night.. this is the first time i’ve met you.. come back some other time.” But I didn’t. But there was a time today that I wished I would have.

More of the story…

The landlord of my building (real crazy that we still use the word “landlord” isn’t it?) pulls me out of the office. (my office is in the same building as my apartment) The landlord says that they noticed an african american man come into my apartment and they wanted to inform me that if someone was living there that it would be a violation of my lease. I politely told them that no one was living there, but a friend does stay with me, somewhat sporadically, a few nights a week. They asked me how I knew him.. and it went downhill from there.

Long story short, I ended up giving them a lecture (I never know when to shutup) on hospitality, inequality, open/unlocked doors, etc.. They in turn gave me a lecture on the reason we pay taxes, and wanted to give me a few names of churches that could possibly help. I wanted to tell them that I’d be willing to give them my name as a church. But this time I realized it was time to be quiet.

They told me they were going to require me to lock my doors until I reminded them that that wasn’t part of my lease.

Again, lonnnnngg conversation.. but long story short..

We came to a compromise.. They told me that they own apartments that folks can live in for free who are low income, elderly, or disabled. It just so happens that Raymond (the fella living with me) would most likely qualify. I told them that if they work on subleasing my apartment in order to get me out of their hair and allow raymond to apply for residence, I will lock my door.

So its a bummer that my door is locked until they find me a new place, but it may just end up getting raymond a place of his own.

So.. while the hard work of peace, reconciliation, and justice is a constant struggle.. and a continual game of discerning the Spririt of when to speak and when to be silent..

and when it seems to be a losing battle, continue, despite all appearances to the contrary, to proclaim that that kingdom of God is alive and well.

It’s coming.. hold onto your butts.

if that isn’t enough to convince you.. maybe this will.

i think if my life had a soundtrack right now.. this is what would be playing.

…

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good reading…

http://www.catholicanarchy.org/cavanaugh/

including, but limited to:

“When Enough is Enough: Why God’s abundant life won’t fit in a shopping cart, and other mysteries of consumerism “

“Dying for the eucharist or being killed by it? Romero’s challenge to first-world Christians”

“Killing for the Telephone Company: Why the Nation-State is Not the Keeper of the Common Good”

if that is too heavy.. you should read this:

Suggestions
for a Proposed
National Code of
Health Emoticons
and Abbreviations for
Instant Messenger.

- – - -

?AB? alcoholic blackout

SHOT shot

AR allergic reaction

IJOD I just overdosed

STD STD

B3D burn, third degree

HA heart attack

ROTFC rolling on the floor choking

RFLOTL renal failure likely owing to lifestyle

====> stabbed or hit by an arrow

BOBHCS being overcome by hazardous chemical spill

PSND poisoned

SBKBPWMS slowly being killed by parent with Munchausen syndrome

MPOS Munchausen parent over shoulder

X
O dead
X

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a sad, cold, and rainy morning

yesteday i was in a funk and I thought maybe a morning off with some coffee and a book would cheer me up. i walked to the coffee shop and on the way, i found this.

misc

I’m sorry. We’ll miss you zetas.

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readings on raising children, politics, and peace

on raising children
…Never let someone say, “we don’t want our education to be indoctrination.” Of course Christians want their education to be indoctrination, and of course it’s going to make the students unhappy. How can one be happy in a world of such violence? Christians are going to make people feel guilty, but let’s hope it’s about the right things. We live in a hard, harsh world. We’ve just finished killing a lot of poeple in the Persian Gulf. That’s real. That’s not joking…

…What we do when we educate kids to be happy and self-fulfilled is to absolutely ruin them. Parents should say to their kids, “what you want out of life is not happiness but to be part of a worthy adventure. You want to have something worth dying for.” It’s awful when all we have to live for is ourselves; that’s what the Gospel reveals to us. The good News tells of the adventure that humans have been made part of through God’s grace, through Christ and through the church…

on peace making:
“… If we believe one of our brothers or sisters has wronged us, we are to confront him or her. People think that pacifists believe in avoiding conflict, but actually pacifists attempt to enhance conflict because they really believe in something, namely, peace.

Christians need to speak the truth about what is right and wrong and good and evil in our society. They need to establish a context where they can have real disputes with others. The conflicts will hurt and not everyone will always be happy with the results; but at least people will be talking about things that really matter.”

“non-violent Christians are not a minority if you recognize that most Christians, because they were women, were not allowed to fight. That this was perhaps “nonvoluntary” makes it no less significant.”

On politics:

…Jesus’s death was a political death. If you ask one of the crucial theological questions – Why was Jesus killed? – the answer isn’t “because God wants us to love one another.” Why in the hell would anyone kill Jesus for that? That’s stupid. It’s not even interesting. Why did Jesus get killed? Because he challenged the powers that be.

all quotes by stanley hauerwas.

now.. if you’ll excuse me.. I’ll be spending some time with the newly released martin luther king documents.. you can too.. here:

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/01/09/mlk.papers/index.html

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angry and efficient.

Well.. i have obviously failed miserably in attempting to avoid the blog world.. so if you’re going to do it.. you may as well do it right.

if you think that you MUST read blogs. at least don’t be an idiot about it. go to: http://www.bloglines.com

enter in your favorite blogs as “feeds” and let bloglines keep track of what blogs have been updated. You will then spend less time in front of your computer and more time cooking for me. i mean.. talking to me.

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a beard

I have come to the sad realization that there are some people who will never know what it feels like to have a beard.. i mean.. not just how it feels on your face and how it keeps you warm in blustery winter months.. but how it makes you feel on the inside.. the kind of manliness it provides.. so.. I’ve decided to try and help give you an idea.

Having a beard makes you feel like you are wearing one of these:
..

while riding one of these:

..

with these strapped to your back:

..
..

yeah.. no kidding.

oh.. and as a contest.. if you can take this shiznit into photoshop.. and somehow place me on that motorcycle, with that helmet on my head.. and those axes on my back.. You will definitly win my respect.

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forgot one

..

if i lived in boston, you could probably take this picture of me on any day of a given week. but i don’t, so this is all you get.

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i went to boston and it looked like this

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todo list

..

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so be it

“May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths,
and superficial relationships,
so that we may live deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and
exploitation of people,
so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from
pain, rejection, starvation and war,
so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn
their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that
we can make a difference in this world,
so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.”

..

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christmas stuff

christmas eve I had dinner with brandon and missy and went hiking with brandon..
..

..

christmas day I woke up sick.. but i spent the morning with grandma and the evening with kelly and family.

oh.. and..
lipring… merry christmas to me.

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happy birthday..

No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient, the proud, those who, because they have
everything, look down on others, those who have no need
even of God – for them there will be no Christmas.
Only the poor, the hungry, those who need someone
to come on their behalf, will have that someone.
That someone is God. Emmanuel. God-with-us.
Without poverty of spirit there can be no abundance of God.

– Oscar Romero

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culture shock

sometime near the end of my trip i began to realize how hard it would be to come home…

I knew that the facing the poor and the sick would be encountering the face of God.. and how the prophets would talk about how encountering God would cause holy fear. And had I had begun to get a taste of that previously by encountering the homeless in columbus… but i don’t think anything could have prepared me for the onslaught of pure exposure that I would encounter down there. I think I’m in hell. There is something that torments me about being impure… being exposed to my own level of bullshit… of being implicated and dare I say judged. There is something awful about it… but at the same time, I crave it.. I need it to continue to change me.. to push me deeper.

prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror;for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was.
But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having become a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man will be blessed in what he does.

I’ve reengaged with scripture for the first time in awhile.. that ^ is from james…
it is reading completely differently these days.. it seems to say all this stuff that I didn’t realize that it said. Part of me was really nervous about reengaging with the bible.. because if it really said all the stuff that I had been taught that it said… i was nervous about having to loose my faith… again.

Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world.

thats from james too.

its crazy how this text has been doing the same thing that those villages did. I kinda hoped it would give me words.. or language to begin to process all of it.. but instead its just kicking my ass even harder. and that is only the tip of the iceburg.. wait till it starts talking about your savings accounts being the fodder for the flames that will eat your flesh.

yeah.. that’s in there. sounds crazy right? but any crazier than having extra room in your house while people sleep in the streets? any crazier than having 5 meals worth of calories in our chinese take out while millions of people starve..

i really should stop. james also says..

If anyone thinks himself to be religious, and yet does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this man’s religion is worthless.

oh.. and..

everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger; for the anger of man does not achieve the righteousness of God.

I’ll need patience and prayer from those who care.. because I’m not just angry.. I’m raging pissed.

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surprise…

attention curiosity seekers and myspace junkies:

..
yeah.. i know.. you’re not surprised

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When we were young…

We were dreamers

When dreamt of love and peaceful things

When we were young we saw with hopeful eyes

When we were young we were free

…the kingdom now you used to promise

..
we’ll find a way you swore to me…

lets save the world you gently whispered

let’s save them all we used to dream

if you’ll seek the dream is living

tonight… the dream it is living

a whisper.. rising like the tides

Hallelujah.

nueva esperanza… how fitting.

The backdrop of mountains cuts into the sky
They’re there to protect or entrap the ones inside
A quiet village is full of tired brows
Thin strips of farm land fight it out with the farmers

In the night the roosters crow with hunger
The wind brings dust instead of rain brought with thunder

And as I hold your dirty hand all that I can say to you
Is in the awkward smile I make
I can’t explain why I came to this distant land
Your simple smiles refresh my soul and
I can’t help but love you and know
That you have all you need

When I would get lonely and feel like a foreigner
I’d look up to the sky and see it’s just the same but brighter
Two eagles fly free but their patterns are not the same
One is weaker, but it’s spirit soars higher
What one yearns for it never seems to reach
The other has learned to separate its wants from needs

As I look into your face I see hope and not disgrace
And strength that carries you along the rugged road you travel on
And as we go our separate ways you can be sure that I have changed
Because I’ve seen the way you live

—————–

oh.. and then you get back to the states and you find out that donald rumsfeld and jesus seem to agree on something:

“Today, it should be clear that not only is weakness provocative, but the perception of weakness on our part can be provocative as well”

oh wait…

(quote taken from http://www.cnn.com/2006/POLITICS/12/15/bush.rumsfeld.ap/index.html)

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back

and processing.

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a few words from the valley of angels.

last night i sat below st. francis and planned an advent gathering in honduras.

i have about thirty bites on my leg from an unidentified insect.

marlon dances like a champ. i cant wait to get home. i wish i could stay here.

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el esperar en el aeropuerto para el groupo numero dos

doug gave me a book this morning… Ill probably finish tonight..

on inclusivity:

we would like to include people like the rich ruler and ananias and sapphira, but we would end up with the sort of christianity that arose after constantine, in which everyone can be a christian but no one knows what a christian is anymore.

a child who runs / to greet you, this is the thinnest / of thin places.

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oho has internet

and i have a really terrible looking beard. they shouldn´t let people that look like me into a place like MDL.

if you can believe it… evangelicals are scarrier here than at home.

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No Lie

Malaria Preventative: ¨Warning may cause vivid dreams¨
Nicotine Patch: ¨Warning may cause vivid dreams¨

Let´s just say that sleeping is an adventure… and I´m wide awake in Honduras.

11:56 AM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

oh here i am.

i´m not good enough with words to try to pull this off.

so.. we´ll just say that I am very happy to be at this place, with these people.

i just realized today I will be here for 5 1/2 of the next 9 weeks.. holy crap. get off the internet phil.. you idiot. ok. bye.

1:37 PM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

well watered garden

A Well-watered Garden

Description: The film at the centre of this film is part of a faith community called Jacob..s well in Vancouver, Canada..s downtown east side. This neighbourhood has complex difficulties including extreme poverty (the poorest postal code in Canada), drug addiction (more than five thousand needle users), widespread disease (highest HIV & AIDS infection in the western world), and prevalent mental illness (estimated more then 50% of area resident). The Jacob..s Well community has a unique, relational approach to sharing life with residents of the neighbourhood through visiting people, gardening, gathering around the table, worshiping, praying and serving.

If you’re having trouble watching the video, try copying the following URL into your browser:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6453728250840339146&pr=goog-sl&hl=en-CA

11:19 AM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

photos from a phone

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8:40 AM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

funny how these things turn out to form prayers.

“Hobbits have been living and farming in the four Farthings of the Shire for many hundreds of years, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the world of the Big Folk. Middle-earth being, after all, full of strange creatures beyond count, Hobbits must seem of little importance, being neither renowned as great warriors nor counted among the very wise… In fact, it has been remarked by some that Hobbits’ only real passion is for food. A rather unfair observation, as we have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good, tilled earth. For all hobbits share a love for things that grow. And, yes, no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint. But today of all days, it is brought home to me: It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.”

-bilbo baggins

6:24 AM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

turkey bowl IV

im beginning to measure the amount of time that i have spent in ohio by which turkey bowl we are on..

I don’t mean to brag.. but i was on fire at the 4th annual turkey bowl. i was no fullen brother mind you.. but i was definitely at the top of my game.

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ok.. so this isn’t a picture of me.. but its pretty close to what happened.. don’t believe it? ask one of the other 16 people there.. or ask the big rug burn on my knee.. definitely worth it.

6:48 AM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

currently listening to:

sufjan stevens – illinois
deathcab – forbidden love ep
bright eyes – i’m wide awake…
amos lee – supply and demand
dan bern – breathe

12:39 PM – 3 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

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12:35 PM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

do justice. love mercy.

how i see the current state of the LP’s visible peace actions:

in praying for our enemies and establishing friendships with the least of these we are attempting to expose a hidden world in which there are alternatives to hierarchy, dominance, and violence.

interesting that last night i found out that veterans make up a large portion of the Columbus homeless population.

and with that.. wendell berry:

“What could be more absurd, to begin with, than our attitude of high moral outrage against other nations for manufacturing the selfsame weapons that we manufacture? The difference, as our leaders say, is that we will use these weapons virtuously, whereas our enemies will use them maliciously..a proposition that too readily conforms to a proposition of much less dignity: we will use them in our interest, whereas our enemies will use them in theirs…

…by now all of us must at least have suspected that our right to live, to be free, and to be at peace is not guaranteed by any act of violence. It can be guaranteed only by our willingness that all other persons should live, be free, and be at peace..and by our willingness to use or give our own lives to make that possible. To be incapable of such willingness is merely to resign ourselves to the absurdity we are in; and yet, if you are like me, you are unsure to what extent you are capable of it.

…you must know that we have not come to rest, far from it. For surely we must feel ourselves swarmed about with more questions that are urgent, personal, and intimidating. But perhaps also we feel ourselves beginning to be free, facing at last in our own selves the greatest challenge ever laid before us, the most comprehensive vision of human progress, the best advice, and the least obeyed:

..Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust…”

is there a bottom to this rabbit hole?

oh.. and if you are bored.. this crazy old truth telling cat is giving a talk at osu tonight at 6 p.m.on the global aids crises
..

4:02 AM – 3 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

there is so much less to this than you think

that’s the title of an essay i’ve been writing about the church that i really wanted to finish. today made me think of how little it is that i even need to write.

what an absolutely out of control day… ‘hey man.. now you’re really living!’

7:34 PM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

peace

my world just blew up… it keeps doing that on a regular basis. there are destroyed people in our city… find and love them.

tonight we’ll keep trying.

12:17 PM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

phenomenology in continental philosophy.

fuck michigan.

3:24 PM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

“oh.. two weeks”

while outside my window, our city melts down..

“…Your gonna take my bottle, my bible, my mess
Your gonna take all of my empty and my loneliness
Gonna take all of that sadness inside of me
Gonna take it all and set me free

Oh, Black River
Gonna take my cares away…”

– Amos Lee

11:18 PM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

surprise!

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4:29 AM – 1 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove

meh

still feeling sick. going back to bed. gross.

8:38 AM – 0 Comments – 0 Kudos – Add Comment – Edit – Remove