On being an anarchist

Below is my line by line refutation of some annoying comments sent to me in a chain letter.

I'm a stranger, I am no American.

I recognize that my feelings are something outside of myself that I'll never truly understand.

I will not own a firearm. It's good for nothing but killing and I'll have nothing to do with it.

Minorities are traditionally victimized in this world and their rights must be defended or no one has any.

I believe the world is one of plurality, not some immaculate monoculture. Speak to me in whatever toungue you have and we'll learn from each other.

God is personal and it's important not to foist our beliefs on others or idoloze our beliefs in thinking that they are perfect and the only way. It's when we do this that we are the most wrong.

I'm trying to give up on the idea of heroes and look for the good in all.

I recognize that the rich are so at the expense of the poor.

There is no America. Only a collective delusion. No nations, no borders, no flags.. I refute their legitimacy, their necessity and their existance. One world, one people.

I think you should worry about your own house, not Jackson's.

I think the cops have no right to shoot anyone. Which part of "thou shalt not kill" is misunderstood?

I believe we should all give up our cars. Then there will be no more traffic stops. And I'll be damned if some Nazi is going to demand my papers when I'm on foot.

I want to be recognized through my relationships, not a picture. God has nothing to do with money and the voting process is flawed, not the voters.

Illegal is a matter of perception. Flags are symbols of a society I don't recognize. I won't worship cloth.

I guess that makes me an anarchist. Maybe you're one, too.

Abu Ghraib images

Here is, in case we've forgotten, some images of our atrocities in Iraq.

Journalist Russ Kick hosts these and many other examples of suppressed and hard-to-find data at his site, The Memory Hole.

Is the US Military targeting civilians?

Have you read about this?

http://www.freep.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060603/NEWS07/606030335/1009

If they are, there really is no difference between what we're doing and 911.

I'm really troubled by two things in particular:
Where is this video of the slain children?
Why is there not more independent investigation?

I'll echo what Hannah over at the Citybeat blog has to say on the matter:

I happened to catch a piece of morning deejay commentary on my way to work. Granted, it was 97.3 - not exactly high-brow political discussion, but I literally trembled at their dangerously one-sided take on this issue. They thought it in poor taste to so much as investigate soldiers' misuse of power in wartime (I personally don't want dust-settled mentality to rob offenders of the punishment they deserve - I say what better time than the present?). The radio personalities are also afraid that "these types of witch hunts" cause soldiers to hesitate before they shoot. Imagine that - a given choice to kill or not to kill. That's a luxury not afforded to unarmed civilians. I'm at a loss.

2:22 PM

Another story in the can; new laptop

So I just finished my story on gay families - or non-traditional families or families with same-sex couples at head of household.

Whatever you call them, they - the lesbian couple I interviewed - they're parents to a little boy named Josh a just want to be moms and, god bless them, to be left alone.

I'll link to it when it's up at Citybeat.

Also I've got a new computer (new to me, anyway)

It's a Sony Vaio sub notebook that I picked up on Craigslist It's only 3 lbs and has a 600mhz Celeron and a 10gig hard drive on board. Perfect for on the go Net and word processing and it was only $150! awesome!

Steve

What are you reading?

I devour books. I dive in through their shimmering surface and stay under as long as I can.

In the past couple of weeks I've completed:

John Christopher's Tripods Books 1-4


I've read and reread this series since I was very young - maybe 20 times. I just picked up a full set to share with our kid on the way.

I've read parts of Einstein's Dreams - this was the book that Becky and I read together in the dawn of our life together and of the day, on my old rooftop.

and Prisoners of Age

We found this book at an Alcatraz Prison photo exhibit.

So what are you reading these days?

Hung with Mom tonight

Becky and I hung out with my Mom this evening. No TV - just talking and that was really nice.

As some of you may know, we gave up our television set about four years ago and have no regrets. We often watch it at Mom's, so this was a nice change.

My Mom had her DNA sampled and is getting it tested for geneology research. It was interesting to speak with her about it.

Beck and I spoke about the possibilities of giving up our car and going all bike and bus. Maybe next April. We'll see. It'd be nice to have one for occaisional use, but I suspect, like a TV, that the only way to sharply curb our dependence is to eliminate it completely from our lives.

I don't want to be a slave to some damn car. I want to be off the oil habit.

Paint on my hands = Instant Gratification

Today we followed through with a neighborhood service project, painting over graffiti and picking up litter.

I worked with Jeremiah Griswold, a Norwood native, and we painted over three graffiti tags here on Norwood. Aaron Klinefelter came along, too, removing a tag from marble with acetone.

On the whole, it was a pretty rewarding experience. Painting over blight is an instant gratification as service work goes. I felt good about it and it was short and sweet.

I enjoyed getting to know Jeremiah, too. He's a youth pastor from Mason (I think) and wants to do an outreach to the kids in Norwood. He's married and has three kids. Former sk8r, btw.

Friday night at the Brown House

What a fun day this has been!

I started off with a bit of desk work at home - honestly I slacked on most of it, but I was off to a meeting with Tim Swallow of Cincy World Cinema. We had lunch at Andy's Mediterannean Grill and a great conversation to boot.

I rode my bike from Norwood down to Eden park and then jetted down to Citybeat after lunch. There really are few things better than racing down a long hill in the Spring, sun beaming, bike moving so fast that the frame shakes.

Citybeat was all about developing the Summer Hot Guide listings - events for the hundred hot days of summer, which I took home to develop this weekend.

Tonight was dinner at the Brown House with the Rains, Bill, Angela and her sister Phyllis. And now Beck and I are watching School of Rock with Bill, Kevin and Izaac.

Steve

It seeks to destroy

The disease seeks to make monsters of us, too

It seeks to make complicit those it cannot make monsters

It seeks to alienate all the rest

And I don't know if the last step may be inevitable

serendipity is the opposite of control

Ok, so I was planning on writing about how I bought professional grade paintbrushes for once in my life and, as a result of having the right tools, I've learned the art of ninja-painting. Working without a net -- I painted - no, I cut in, at the edge of the molding, over a carpet - without a dropcloth or paint guide. And it looks really good...

But, that's not where today's rabbit trail led me. Bread crumbs and all to that actor goofin' on Morpheus as in, "What is the (problem)? Control." And, yeah, that's just what it is.

You see Cameron called me today. Cameron, whose name has never graced this page before, is a friend of sorts of Molly. Quick update in case I didn't blog on this before -- Molly used again about a month ago, was discovered or admitted to it(depending on the version you believe) and was booted from the program. Unofficially.

They called the cops.

So she ran. Or rode, rather, away on her bike and ended up here and there for a couple of weeks before, thanks be to God, she was finally arrested. And she'd been using H twice a day. And she has a heart problem. And her disease led her to try and drag Rich down too...

Anyway, Cameron is this guy. They dated or something, years ago and he has a thing for her and he sent her a cell phone when she was in the program that she later was booted from -- you follow so far? Cell phones aren't allowed, but, "I have to have it," she says - it's a phone from this guy and she needs it to call her fiance, Rich, to feel sane and so on. Of course this thing isn't about her many layers of poison, it's about the onion that belongs to me, so I'll jet through the backdrop and get to the drama part of our show.

Ok, so Cameron gives her the phone. He sends her money when she's on the streets. He asks her to come on down to New Orleans to be with him and Beck and I tell her - or told her, I should say - just how fucking awful a set of choices this really is - and yet she does it anyway and now she's been locked up a week and Cameron calls here. He's asking if we're holding some money for her and I tell him no and he asks if we ever did and I say yes. (I'm not very forthcoming with him)

And I told him in the very shortest way I could spin on the fly, about how she was here, stopped by, I mean, on Election Day - May 2 and how I asked her how much she had on her - we didn't know, mind you, that she'd been tapping her rig again (as they say in the parlance of the streets - or at least my reasonable fascimile) and she tells us, "$70" and I tell her she should leave $60 here and she agrees, admitting that she feels safer without it. And she does this, but comes back two days later saying she wants it all and I told her no and she cursed and got angry and said she couldn't trust me and Becky any more. She later apologized for this. And I was proud that we had stood our ground, and hadn't enabled her.

Back to the call. Cameron asks what we did with the cash and that it was his and I'm like, all of a sudden,just jumping him with how cruddy an idea it is to give a junkie a cell that she used to call her dealer and cash to buy dope and he says to me, "No offense, but I didn't call here to get a lecture," and I'm patting myself on the back for not begining with, "Look, Motherf..." because that's just how white I am and I tell him, "I'm not saying you caused her relapse! I'm telling you what you need to know if you don't want to enable" and he's like, "Look, she was going to get the money one way or another" and I peg him as defensive when it's really me and I can hear the Julius, later, in my head as I replay this conversation asking me, "Does he look like a bitch? Then why are you tryin' to f him like one? Say what one more time!"

Yeah.

I tell him how I'm damn near a pro at rehab and how we may never talk again and...We conclude the call and said little else. And I pat myself on the back for not saying MF! Because, of course, Cameron was right. Yeah, he's limerant obsessive and codependent as all get out and probably sick a few dozen other ways, but I didn't fool him. Of course I was saying that she's in jail now because he fed the addiction's fire. And I'm mad, not for Molly's sake or for his, but for my own selfish motives. I wanted to fix that addiction because then it would prove that I'm smarter than that deamon and I wanted to be that arnarchist/sub pro rehab tech who can fix it all and shit. You down with what I mean? Because to fix it is to thumb my nose at death and remain in control. Control is what it's about and, at least in this case, I was the one who was sick and it's there for me to see. That's why I was rash and didn't handle it better.

And, no, I'm not beating up on myself, it's just that I recognized this and needed to write it down. It was the same control/rashness I had the other day, when things didn't go the way I wanted to on a personal/business call and I say,"We'll have to talk about this later," bitterly, to punt the ball I can't seem to kick. And then, I had hang time and made a choice to get angry - and after this infinite pause I slammed my fist down in anger...because I couldn't control that situation.

Before I finished writing this, Mary Faith calls and after grinning (I can hear this through the phone) about Becky and the baby (an I am, too, at this point) she tells me...about Haloween some years ago...and Stella was born and Stellas father left the hospital to go to his friends house and announce the birth of his daughter and a man opens the door and is wearing a pumpkin on his head (a real one, she says) and Stella's father blurts out the good news to this, the first person he sees and the man removes the pumpkin and it's Stella's uncle who dad hasn't seen in some time, And it's wonderful. And so, you can see that serendipity is the opposite of control. ;)

Sappy Cards

Sappy Cards are just too cool. We found them at the Allied Media Conference?

Anyone want to go to the AMC in June?

Lazy Saturday

Becky and I took today off.

We spent much of the morning with Aaron Klinefelter, hangnig and talking (Aaron and Beck did this) and playing Grand Theft Auto Vice City. (me)

Klinefelter came over and had Saag Paneer with us - Indian spinich/cream sauce and rice with cheese. This time we made it fast with milk and cheddar cheese and the texture was thick and the taste mild. (Those of you who have eaten at our house know it's normally very spicy, though not at at Ken Oster level.)

We slept during the afternoon and I read The City of Gold and Lead.

Carolee's here now and we're hanging out again, drinking Mango Lassi which Beck and I made this evening.

The fruits of my labor

I'm working on my assignmnt for Citybeat today on my frony porch, on my laptop, in bare feet. That's what keeps me freelancing, right there.

I had a dream last night that there were high chain link fences all around the city and I was outside and had to present an ID to get back in. Not much more to that. Just kind of 1984ish.

I just called and complained about the driving of a company truck down my street. The speed limit is 25 and it's not at all uncommon to see trucks plowing down the street at up to 40mph! Today a guy in a company truck, from the company down the street, decides to drive backwards, fast, for like a quarter block. Simply unacceptable. I called. The boss thanked me. We'll see what good it does.

Meditations on loss

My thoughts are also turning to some of those hurting.

Nate Livingston's blog is the scene of a lot of dialogue on the Kabaka Oba shooting. There were some commentors who don't care about Oba or the violence in OTR and have a "let it burn" philosophy. I responded over at his site, "To the last Anon, advising people to stay out of OTR and leave it to the "miscreants and the morally destitute"

Wow, you're a fool. Do you really believe you are disconnected from the lives of the poor and the broken? Where do you think your suburban neighbors go to buy drugs and rent flesh? Do you really think the suburban shell can thrive if the city's heart decays?

The drug supply is only there to meet the demand of a suburban market. The guns are only there because of the culture of violence that our nation has embraced.

Take some responsibility. As you're firing up the grill behind your white picket fence you're ignoring your role in healing the city's collective illness."

The Palmers

Amy Palmer's entries are also ones to meditate on. She's posting on her grief and the recent loss of her husband, Mark. I don't really know the Palmer family, but I know a lot of people who love them. I have to say that even as someone who is a stranger in many ways to her, I really feel for what she's going through.

The birds are up and so am I

It's just past five in the morning (or two am San Francisco time) and I just got out of the shower and am dressed. I forgot my towel, but it wasn't as much of a pain since it's pretty warm right now. (our days are almost hitting 80 degrees)

I mentioned SF because last night I dreamed of our new friends there and I suppose they're dreaming now. I don't recall the content, but I think I'll call a couple of them today and make contact.

I finished my 2005 financials and I have to get 2004, 2003 and 2002 done now and the taxes. This is a hole I'll not soon dig for myself again.

Steve

The disease of addiction

Beck and I attended family night tonight at the WRAP House - the residential treatment program that Molly's in - and that was a major theme. A lady spoke about her son Casey, who died because of his Heroine addiction. She said that it's just not treated as a serious disease and implied that this contributed to his death. I agree.

I wonder if the family member I mentioned with the aloholism regards it as an illness. I bet he thinks of himself as a failure because of it. Maybe I'll call him tomorrow.

Left of Eden

This is my article on the religious left in Cincinnati. I'd welcome any feedback.

Here it is, at Citybeat.

House Church installment

It's Tuesday and House Church is here (or at least I am here at HC). I'm live blogging again which helps me focus on what's happening.

"My goal is to raise the bar every time we do it," says Klinefelter, of his Via Crucis project. This is Aaron's experiential way of the cross exhibition where the stations of the cross are done by 14 different artists. There were like 7 churches and many individuals involved in this, by the way, so I'm sure Aaron will cringe as I label it "Aaron's project."

We had a lot of food here tonight, including White Castles. Eric is singing some weird song about eating a lot tonight.

Where did you see god this week?

Leslie: Called some company and was put on hold for awhile and got a very frustrated operator. "I said, god's in control and she said yes he is." (after almost getting nasty with the operator) "I came that close," she said.

Klinefelter: "I certainly noticed god on Sunday night...It was just cool to see so many diff't people come together and, in some shape or form, experiencing Christ's presence." Klinefelter related that the last person there, a fellow named Matthew, heard about the event from a friend who got an email about Via Crucis and he was going to go to a BarBQ and then he found that the people at the BarBQ were going to go to. "...these random connections...just neat...people converging. That was really cool, a god thing."

Eric said it was magic.

Patricia, a neighbor, said that her dad passed away several years ago. He taught philosophy of education, existentialism and was a deacon at his church. After he died she wondered if god really existed. Patricia saw a van hit a little girl and her dad appeared all of a sudden asking her why she was crying. He had two lawn chairs. He said, "Don't cry. She's with us." She tells us that her father said that there was nothing to fear in the Lord's hands. "He was telling me he was still alive, with god...this was strange..." She said on another evening she was laying in bed and a beam of light came in her window and Jesus Christ appeared with her dad - they passed their hands over her body. "All of a sudden I opened my eyes and I saw Christ there beside me...I could feel him taking his hand...I could feel them touching my life."

"He will embrace you if you ask him to," she said.

A new person, Maria just joined us. She was curating during Via Crucis.

Liz: Really bad about waking in the morning. "It's on the border between laughable and ridiculous." This week, she's gotten up on time every day (two days).

Picturing God's Kingdom
That's the discussion theme this week. I didn't read this time. I don't very often, so I'm seldom well prepared and make up for my lack of knowledge with my wits.

So what are the meanings behind parables and myths in the bible? Leslie said that there were some references – like salt losing its saltiness – that confused her. This made her want to read more.

Angela mentions that some biblical stories seem hard to understand because we have become so separated from the earth.

How do we pass on stories to people (children) whose lives are divorced from nature.

“The kingdom of god is like a microchip,” Angela jokes.

What are the times when you were able to convey some small part of what god is?

Angela says that she's communicated god by not mentioning god or Jesus, loaded words, she says. In stories.

Maybe (this is me speaking now) there are just a few roads to failure – that it won't work – but a multitude of ways that it can work – when it's supposed to. The “it” I'm talking about is a relationship or a project or a journey – anything that leads us to crisis.

Aaron described hermeneutics - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hermeneutics -as the way to understand this stuff.

Russ says people often get caught up in the Christian affectations and need to focus on their attitude and behavior. “The congregation is very important, but when those individuals walk away they had better act as they've been taught...”

-30-

Exquisite pain, minor resolution and the bag 'o' religious gear

I just got over a three day headache today. In and out it crashed like waves, exposing jagged rocks, like they talked about in the book, Misery. I woke up at three AM this morning, it was sharp then and inescapable through sleep and I wrote a bit and surfed the Net. I was able to tone down the pain around six and as I was going to sleep I wondered if I could reimagine the pain and choose the way my brain interpreted the signals from my straining blood vessels. Could I choose to believe it was pleasure? If I did, would it become that? Like a cool breeze passing over my face instead of a slow electric draw, clenching my skull? I described it, at another time as being exquisite pain. I'll let you read that if you ask.

Minor resolution
An important phone call came today from the person I conflicted with last week. I wrote about it and they responded on this blog a couple of days ago. This person said they wanted, as I do, to have space but retain civility so this doesn't affect our mutual friends. I respect this person for that. We agreed to disagree.

Religious gear
I've gathered all my churchy stuff into my zipper bag - The bible, the qoran and a couple of analytical texts are all together for tonight at house church and elsewhere.

- Steve

Bush is a shameful, terrible president

and I hope he is impeached. He deserves prison.

I heard him on the radio and it makes me sick to listen to his voice.

I just don't think this can be said too often. I just hope the movement reaches a critical mass.