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[somedaysiamspike]

As you probably already ‘know’, I stopped calling what I produce “art” as of 1978 when I publicly made the transition from “artist” to “mad scientist”.

[somedaysiamspike]

Life During Interesting Times

[somedaysiamspike]

Lying About Going to Church

People lie about going to church. I find it fascinating, but not surprising. We like to tell people what they want to hear. We exaggerate how often we exercise when we speak to the doctor, how often we floss when we talk to the dentist, and how often we go to church to just about anybody.

Various studies, easily found online, have shown this to be true, but I have a simpler proof. Think about it. Some 40% of Americans, when asked in polls, will say they go to church about every week. But if that’s true -- if 40% of the population is going to church on Sunday mornings -- the highways would be bustling. It wouldn’t be too far behind the type of rush hour we see on Monday mornings. 

That’s obviously not true. As we all know, Sunday mornings is when you get the road to yourself. It’s the least trafficky time of the week. Yes, you might get some congestion around the mega-churches when they dismiss at noon, but there’s no way that 40% of the entire nation’s population is on the move around that particular time. (OK, so maybe some people go on Sunday nights, or Wednesday nights, or at other times, but even churches will tell you those services represent a small unique portion of their congregations.)

I bring this up now because I have a confession: Over the last year or so, I have joined the ranks of the very people I have chided. I have been lying about going to church.

I am not comfortable about that. I am usually a notorious truth-teller. I always feel there’s a better way to say something rather telling a lie. 

So what’s happened with me and church? Well, in my new life in the Shenandoah Valley, I occasionally get visits from people from my previous lives. Several are people who knew me when I was a church regular. Admittedly, I was a rebellious church regular who would challenge some of the norms, but at least I was there as an active participant. 

These people from my past now sit down with me for lunch at my store. We talk about our lives and our friends and such, and inevitably the question arises: “Have you found a church here?”

My answer each time has been an awful hem-and-haw. I’ll talk about the store’s partnership with one of the churches downtown, and/or how I attend concerts at one of the other churches, and/or something vague about one church or other. All of it is exaggeration, meant to leave the impression that I’m still a church-goer, a convenient way to avoid an uncomfortable answer. 

This is wrong, of course. I should answer the question honestly, if I’m going to answer it at all.

Therefore, I have resolved to give a forthright answer from now on. With apologies to the friends with whom I was evasive, I now present the answer to the question: “Have you found a church here?”

“I have not found a church here, my friend. I’ve been to maybe a half-dozen churches for a service or two over the last three years, but I’ve yet to experience anything that came remotely close to touching me, inspiring me, or truly welcoming me. I even went to one Sunday School and was an active participant, an out-of-the-blue stranger who was asking and answering questions and occasionally leading the direction of the discussion, yet not once did anyone there -- during or after class -- introduce themselves to me or ask me my name. It’s a trend I’ve seen in churches for a long time; they’re becoming more insular and protective of their own, but they’ve no clue as how to proactively seek out and welcome new people. It’s why churches are dying.

“But, my friend, there’s a bigger reason why I don’t bother anymore. The church is destroying itself by distancing itself from Christianity. It’s become, as a whole, an institution that has abandoned Christ’s principles for political principles. It’s a bastion of conservatism, and, as you’ve probably heard me say before, there’s no such thing as a Conservative Christian.

“Think about it. Jesus was one of the most radical, liberal people ever to walk the earth. He had the audacity to tell us to turn the other cheek, to reach out to foreigners and others not like us, to forgive and forgive and forgive, to give up the extras we have to help the poor, to put love above all else. 

“When George W. Bush was president, I had non-Christian friends who would see him wrap himself in the Bible while simultaneously spewing arrogance and smugness. ‘If that’s what being a Christian is all about, then I want no part of it,’ they would say. Bush set Christianity back decades -- look at the rise of agnosticism and atheism during his eight years in office -- but I thought the wounds weren’t fatal.

“But now, in the era of Trump, we see churches and so-called Christians being exposed for what they really are -- selfish conservatives who want things their way, even if it means trampling on the scriptures and everyone else. We have a president who tells multiple lies per day, who openly boasted of his sexual assaults against women, who regularly bullies and belittles people publicly, who foments and encourages racism, who embodies the notion of self-centeredness and arrogance -- and yet he is a hero of the so-called evangelical movement. 

“It just might kill the church for good. Thousands, no millions, or people are looking at the church’s view of our president and saying, ‘If that’s what the church is all about, then I want no part of it.’

“And I am now one of those people. Yes, I know there are some churches that have distanced themselves from Trump and have re-embraced Christ’s principles, but they are swimming upstream. There’s probably one or two of those churches here in my new town.

“But I have found other outlets, other people, other communities that better epitomize the Christ principles of love and inclusion. I grew spiritually when I’m around those people, and it’s made me a better person.

“So, no, my friend, I haven’t found a church. But maybe I’ve found THE church. And it feels pretty good.” 

[somedaysiamspike]

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[somedaysiamspike]

Dream, dream, dream ...

Been a while since I posted a dream, but last night’s is definitely worth documenting ...

I was traveling in Greece, having just covered the Olympics in my old job. Because the Olympics were over, I was using up some vacation time to do some solo traveling.

Note: In real life, I actually did cover the Olympics in Greece, and I did have a couple of days of free time afterward to explore Athens, but I didn’t really enjoy myself very much because the city felt so empty after the excitement of the previous three weeks. Plus, I was spent having soaked all my energies into covering one of the biggest stories of my life and felt more like chilling than exploring. I was  thinking about that Greece trip a couple of days ago, which is probably why it appears at the beginning of this dream.

In the dream, it was completely opposite of that real-life experience. The Olympics were over, the hard work was done, and I was eager to explore. I ventured east, traveling in some sort of grand, modern tunnel to get across the strait from Europe to Asia. Then I was on a train and reached some sort of border-crossing in the middle of Turkey. I had to get off the train and stick my head into some tiny compartment on a set of rails to get across the border and onto another train. Physiologically, it made no sense. The contraption should decapitate anyone who stuck their head into it, but that was the way to cross the border, and I got across in one piece.

I kept traveling east, and made it to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I remember thinking how fast it was to get there by train from Turkey. It was only a few hours! (In real life, it’s probably impossible by train.)

In my dream, Riyadh wasn’t a desert city. It was a beautiful place set next to a mountain range, like something you’d see in Arizona. I decided to climb one of the rocks way high up – being the reckless person I usually am – to take in the view and take some photos with my camera. (My real one, not the cellphone.)

I remember shaking and trying to keep my balance as I took the photos. I thought, “Gee, this trip has made me tired. I need some rest.” I climbed down, then was trying to decide where to go next. I then remembered that I should probably check the date of my plane flight from Athens back to the U.S. I’m glad I did. The flight on United was leaving at 11:10 p.m. that night, as written in pencil in the little date book I carried in my pocket.

Fortunately, it was only 2 o’clock, and I calculated I had plenty of time to travel by train back across Saudi Arabia, get to Athens, pack, and still make the flight. (Haha, if this were real life.) I did the reverse trip across the border in Turkey with my head in that weird contraption.

I must’ve made the flight OK, because the dream immediately jumped to the US. I had landed, and was making the last leg of my trip on my way home to North Carolina – on bicycle. I rode through a small community that was having a lovely festival of some sort. Croquet. Flowers. Fun. All on luscious green grass among trees. I really wanted to stay. I asked one of the people if this was a yearly event. He said it was, so I wrote it in my calendar and said I would be back next year.

When I got to North Carolina, I got a ride from Hank Farrior, a really good guy who worked with me at the radio station in Williamston a long time ago. Haven’t seen him in real life in many years. It was good to see ol’ Hank.

He drove me down a country road, and then the dream got really strange.

Hank was no longer there. I was standing in front of a house on a rural road. It seemed I was both alone, and surrounded by people. There was a woman inside the house, maybe a young girl? For some reason, we knew someone had to go inside and talk to her. A tall, handsome man volunteered. I knew he was doomed.

Once he entered the house, the building took on a grotesque shape, like it was being digested by a monster. The man was thrust from the second story window with a long burgundy noose around his neck. He hung in the misty mid-air, then dropped to his death.

Then the girl/woman emerged as a spirit through the walls of the house. She also had a rope around her neck, but it wasn’t attached to anything, so she kept going, soaring through the air while sitting on an easy chair. I felt detached from the whole thing, like I was watching a really scary horror movie.

Then I woke up.

#decapitation!

#now that’s a theme to have in a dream, huh?

[somedaysiamspike]

Confession: I actually enjoy reading atheism vs. theism debates and find such discussion intellectually stimulating and not “tired”.

[somedaysiamspike]

Overheard while in line at the bank today: “What happens when you get scared half to death for a second time?”

[somedaysiamspike]

With an assist from The Log Lady (via the wonderful talents of @aprilwitching), we watched the final episodes of the new Twin Peaks season. Irresistible French baguettes and cherry pie were on the menu.

Yes, I realize we were behind the curve on this one. My most recent ex-roommate wanted to watch the entire first two seasons, and I glad we did. It was a joy reliving the original Twin Peaks as a true joint experience, and her insight and our discussions helped me notice things I’d never noticed before. (She also has great plot perception; she could be a screenwriter for Lynch.)

As for the new season, I’m now anxious to read comments from Twin Peaks Tumblr fans such as @aprilwitching and @digging-holes-in-the-river, along with various other TV writers whom I respect. I’ve been shunning my eyes from such writings so as not to spot any spoilers. 

My one quick take on the finale (spoiler ahead): I blame Major Briggs for the screwy ending. Coop and everyone should have left well enough alone after the Guy With The SuperPower Glove punched Bob to smithereens. All was fine and good at that moment. Then Cooper, apparently having been told to do so by Major Briggs, takes the hotel key and goes through the door, leading to all the events that followed -- including the prevention of the murder of Laura Palmer and the alternative timeline that turns, among other things, the Double R Diner into a “Cafe”. Should’ve just chunked the key, Dale, and had a cup of coffee. 

[somedaysiamspike]

If You Consider The Mass Shootings To Be A "Mental Health Problem" ...

(I said the following to a friend, and she suggested I share it around. Well, OK. Would love to hear what you think.)

I have a friend who owns a gun. He's a decent, kind guy. He's not perfect; no one is. He's been very good to me over the years. He's law-abiding to the best of his ability, as far as I can tell, and there's nothing observable to me or the casual observer that would make him a candidate to do anything crazy like, say, shoot up a bunch of people. He is a older white American male exercising his good ol' God-given 2nd Amendment right to own and carry guns.

But, you know, I seen the guy lose his temper from time to time over the years. I have no idea what's going on inside his head. He also served in the military years ago, which is another red flag. White. Male. Lives alone. Served in military. Perfect profile of the next person to walk into a church/school/wherever and commit a mass shooting.

You can say the mass shootings are a "mental health problem" until you're blue in the face, but it means nothing unless you tell me how you go about solving it.

Well, I'm going to solve the problem for you. Here's how we do it: We do regular mental health checks on everyone who has a gun. They must be invasive and intrusive. We need to check on these people in person every single week, because you never know when something might happen to make someone snap. It would cost trillions, but, hey, it would be worth it to save the lives of all those kids and adults who keep getting shot.

But, wait? Only once a week? Some of these shootings are spur-of-the-moment. Something snaps that morning, and suddenly a bunch of people are dead that afternoon.

You're right. We need electrodes monitoring the brains of all gun-owners, and centralized offices staffed with thousands of people watching the monitors and watching for any unusual activity that would signal some sort of awful behavior about to happen. We'd probably need cameras in all those homes, too, so that we can see the person go to his closet and start fetching his/her guns.

This would be incredibly invasive, and against the spirits of freedom and privacy that Americans value. But it's the best solution I know to solve the "mental health problem" that has led to us averaging one mass shooting EVERY DAY in the United States during the year 2017. It's ironic that the people who say "I don't want the government to touch my guns" would be the same people who would want the government checking on everyone's brains, but, if that's what you want, then let's do it. Let's start with my friend who I mentioned above and move on to all the rest of you who own guns. I hope you don't mind when the doctors show up.

I'll add one final thought. Mental health is a serious subject, and mental illnesses are not limited to the United States of America. There are people who snap in Australia, Ireland, Britain, etc. Yet, for whatever reason, places like that just don't seem to have very many mass shootings. In fact, it's quite rare.

And, you know what? They also don't have electrodes attached to everyone's brains.

Thanks for reading all this. You made it to end!

[somedaysiamspike]

Current discussion as trick-or-treaters stream into the store: Imagine a conversation between Harry Potter and Charlie Brown.

[somedaysiamspike]

We just got some new magnets in my store. 

They’re all very attractive. 

[somedaysiamspike]

On yelling “O” and “Red” and other anthem disrepects I’ve witnessed over the years ...

I've watched tens of thousands of people disrespect the national anthem on a regular basis over the last 20 years. In my work as a journalist, I've watched and listened from the press box as fans talked, ate, sat, walked around, picked their nose, and otherwise did anything and everything but stand at attention during "The Star Spangled Banner". Some people deliberately yell. In Baltimore, they scream "O" during the anthem. In Washington, Caps fans holler "red". It's beyond the bounds of decorum and respect laid down for the anthem, and it happens seemingly everywhere. People just don't care! It's one of the reasons I've often said the anthem shouldn't be played before every single sporting event: When you do something so often that it becomes routine, it loses its meaning. Yet, a deliberate non-violent statement of protest during the anthem is something else altogether. It actually uplifts the anthem and helps return it to its place of importance. If the anthem wasn't important, no one would care who was sitting or kneeling or doing whatever. I do know this. My father served in the Army during World War II, the war that was supposed to bring an end once and for all to institutionalized racism and totalitarianism. Had that war turned out differently - had, say, the Nazis conquered America - you'd better believe you'd be standing perfectly still for the anthem because you'd have no other choice. My father served in the name of American values, which include the right to peacefully make your point and say your peace in ways that don't invoke hate or violence. My father served so that you can stand or kneel or pick your nose during the national anthem. To call such protesters "un-American" or "American haters" is un-American in itself. These football players actually care about our country and want to make it better! If only we all cared that much! And what they're doing shows more respect to the anthem and flag - and what the flag stands for - than anyone who yells "O" because it's a cute thing to do to support a team. One final note: I was only a few yards away recently when a racist killed a anti-racist protester with a car in Charlottesville. It's amazing how many people afterward tried to take what they claimed to be a "neutral" stance between the racists and anti-racists. (Hint: You're either racist or you're not. There's no neutral involved.) I'm heartbroken that so many of those same people are now taking the un-American view that there's something wrong with a peaceful protest. Sorry, Dad. I thought you helped settle this decades ago. Maybe we'll learn how to do better.

[somedaysiamspike]

Another one I hadn’t thought much about ...

[somedaysiamspike]

Ways You Can Save the Planet Without a Treaty #5: Stop using sooooooo much soap

I had an epiphany during a camping trip a few years ago. It was time to do the dishes after a meal, and my friend Doug pulled out a tiny container of something called Campsuds. He told us to be judicious with it because “there’s enough in here to clean an entire 747″. 

Wow. A small bottle of dishwashing soap is enough to clean the outside of a big airplane? That got me to thinking: Do we really need a big pile of suds in the sink when we do the dishes at home? In our quest to be clean, clean, and overclean, do we overdo soap in general?

The answer is yes. We use way too much soap.

Now don’t get me wrong. Soap is important. We don’t wash our hands enough, nor do we do it thoroughly and correctly. (Scrub the nails, make sure your non-dominant hand does an adequate on your dominant hand, etc.) If you’re getting rid of germs or grease, soap is a handy, vital tool.

But, man, do we go for the overkill! Let’s start with the dishes. I know there’s a big debate over whether it’s more eco-friendly to use a dishwasher or do them by hand, but that’s because we’re so lousy when it comes to doing them by hand. We fill up the sink with water and squirt tons of dish soap all over the dishes. 

That’s a waste. Typically, you only need one tablespoon of dish soap to do a sinkfull of dishes. The best approach: Take a small bowl of water and swirl around a tablespoon of dish soap in it. Dish your sponge into the soapy water and use it to wash the dishes, supplementing whatever water you need for soaking/rinsing from the tap. It works beautifully. 

I found that tip on the following website, which offers more links to eco-friendly dishwashing, including advice for reducing how much water you use:

http://www.thekitchn.com/quick-tip-use-less-soap-for-cl-140105

Showers and baths are another story. Our showers are too long. Seriously, three minutes is usually enough. We wash our hair way too much, which is why it’s always so greasy. If only we would spend as much time brushing our teeth as we currently do taking a shower, we’d all be much better off. 

Deodorants and antiperspirants are another source of debate. Deodorants are better, and we should all use the ones that don’t have aluminum. Yes, they cost more, but, as I often tell the customers in my store: “What’s more important than what you put in your body and on your body? Save money elsewhere -- on clothes, cars, etc. -- but take care of the health of yourself and your family.”

I’m at a little bit of a quandary over deodorants. I know people who don’t use them, and their bodies have adjusted accordingly. The same way your hair adjusts if you aren’t shampooing it all the time, your underarms adjust from not being doused with smelly stuff every day. Yet there are days when it’s hot, and I’ve been bicycling, and I’m going to a play, when I just know I need to use deodorant. It’s OK to go days without it when I’m camping because all of us smell like campers, but it’s a tougher call in mixed society. 

Finally, a full bit of disclosure: I never wash my car, unless I’ve been somewhere where the roads are salty or sandy. I know a waxed, sparkly-clean car is a status symbol for some people, but I’ve always thought it to be a waste of time and money. “So you’ve got a car,” Shania Twain once sang. “That don’t impress me much.”

Ha! Bet you weren’t expecting me to quote Shania Twain!

This is part of a series, and, yes, it’s been a while since Part 4. The events in Charlottesville took precedence for a while -- I happened to have been very close to the spot where the woman was killed -- and then came an out-of-town trip for the eclipse and the death of someone connected with my store. Now it’s a Sunday morning, and I have a stinkin’ cold that has me confined to the house, so it’s a good time to catch up. 

Here’s a recap of the series so far:

Prelude: https://somedaysiamspike.tumblr.com/post/163409793816/you-wont-always-have-paris-12-ways-you-can-save

Part 1: https://somedaysiamspike.tumblr.com/post/163409797406/you-wont-always-have-paris-12-ways-you-can-save

Part 2: https://somedaysiamspike.tumblr.com/post/163448588211/you-wont-always-have-paris-12-ways-you-can-save

Part 3: https://somedaysiamspike.tumblr.com/post/163753637501/ways-you-can-save-the-planet-without-a-treaty-3

Part 4: https://somedaysiamspike.tumblr.com/post/163987509401/ways-you-can-save-the-planet-without-a-treaty-4

[somedaysiamspike]

[somedaysiamspike]

I’ll resume my “Paris” climate series next week, but meanwhile this video says a lot more than I can say in a few hundred words. 

[somedaysiamspike]

The Pillars of Creation

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