this is the fun we teach:
November 20, 2008
This and That – More Shit than Anticipated
October 28, 2008
Why is the far right the keepers of who is “American” and who is
not? I would leave that to the Native Americans.
To my Roman Catholic brothers and sisters: Go ahead and vote on one
issue. But remember, your votes put George W. Bush in office. Therefore, you share in the responsibility for making this world a geometrically nastier and more impoverished place in which to birth a child. (Thereby, ironically, increasing the probability of an already overwhelmed pregnant mother choosing abortion) You are so preoccupied with the unborn that you have allowed the born to be doomed to the cesspools of the ever expanding slums of this earth.
Always remember, it was the Bush administration who dismissed the warnings about bin Laden from the Clinton people. Bush was such a myopic fool.
I believe the neo-cons half wanted something to happen. They wanted an excuse to invade Iraq; a Gulf of Tonkin, a “remember the Maine”. They got more shit than they ever anticipated on September 11. Just as they got more shit than anticipated when they invaded Iraq. Did they suppose their “enemies” were like those in a Bond movie: diabolical but relatively impotent and easily defeated? I can see Bush, Chaney and Rove consulting the library (a bible and 3,000 DVDs) to review how James Bond escaped the bad guys by sledding down a ski slope in a cello case. They surely drooled on their ties.
Is the bloody saga of the white man’s displacement, erasure, and
marginalization of Native Americans a model for Christian relations with Muslims? Or Muslim’s with Christians? Convert or hurt! Only madmen would think that, you say.
About – uncool adventure!
June 5, 2008
As a young boy, I did not know what was going on in the classroom. There was no such thing as ADHD or LD back then. It was dismissed as laziness or stupidity. Participles, logarithms, declension, reading, speed, memorization, and athletic coordination – I was always on shaky ground.
My handwriting was neanderthal and my study habits avoidant. I spent my school days furtively staring out big windows. Birds were my envy as they flew across the ever changing sky. On dreary wet days I turned to my pencil (missile) and pen (rocket ship).
I was the oldest of two, then three, then four, then five, then six, and later seven. It became progressively easier to underachieve in this burgeoning post war blue collar Catholic family.
My dad worked three jobs. Mom cooked, sewed, scrubbed, ironed, washed, mopped, and all the while monitored an ever expanding gaggle of robust strong willed children . We eventually overwhelmed her resources. We were like big fleshy ants.
Play and television were my refuge. The tube allowed me to escape instantly. Far away places, adventure, and fame were my fantasies. I would spend hours in bed before sleep concocting gallant stories in my mind with me as the intrepid hero.
My favorite thing of all was Boy Scouts. It allowed me to go camping and play with fire – to go away and have adventure – to take on whatever nature could dish out. It taught me I could do things well. I learned stuff like Morse code and survival skills. I became Order of the Arrow and attended National Leadership Camp. Too bad I let my buddies talk me into quitting. They thought boy scouts was uncool.
I traded confidence and growth for “cool”. It was like trading hiking boots for hair gel.
the Choose Me God! Polka
May 13, 2008
Farmer prays for rain.
Builder prays for none.
Each one asks the Lord
to be His chosen one.
Iraqathon – an unhappy anniversary
March 19, 2008
Five years ago today the United States President and Congress invaded Iraq using Our military. Several months after the invasion I took part in a small demonstration against the war at the main intersection of our small town. There were five of us: my wife, my son (13), our friend Karen, our friend Leann, and myself. Leann, a Catholic activist from our nearby college, had organized the bootless foray.
Our small rally was peaceful and non confrontational. That did not stop many driving by from blowing their horns, giving us the finger, and yelling out “fuck you”. I wonder if they still feel the same today.
Peace Is Free
January 27, 2008
You don’t have to get cleansed
cleared or confirmed
You don’t have to pay tribute
Peace is as free as your next breath
your next smile
qazse 