03.21.05
Posted in faith, politics at 12:59 pm by
Taking a few minutes to clarify my frustration about the responses I received from Senator Stabenow seems to be in order. You see, I really don’t care that the Senator sent me form replies. Doesn’t madden me in the least, actually. I wouldn’t really expect more than that reply from them.
It’s actually a little encouraging as the getting of a form letter (aka canned response) actually implies that enough folks take their civic responsibility to communicate with their elected governmental officials seriously enough to take the time to share their opinions with their aforementioned official.
My concerns with the response I received from Senator Stabenow are two-fold. First, I am frustrated that the Senator has the gaul to send out emails that claim her support of two directly oppositional viewpoints. On one hand, she claims to support ‘cutting wasteful spending.’ On the other, she opposes the current budget. I understand that her position is legitimate, but her articulation of that position belies her primary concern: People pandering. And, to employ some alliteration, people pandering positively pisses me off.
My second concern with the Senator’s response to my email is probably more troubling. First, it is clear to me that whomever read my communique with the Senator got as far as the words ‘proposed budget’ and ‘I am unapologetically Christian.’ From those two phrases, it would seem that the Senator–or her aides, but the letter did go out under her name and as such, I’ll be referring to it as hers–made a grievous assumption about me. Namely, ‘You are Christian, you must be conservative.’
Ironically, the point of my initial correspondence used the currently proposed federal budget as an exemplar of how Democratic officials could begin to speak out their vision for the US as a vision that corresponds, although not exclusively, with a faith-based vision for the US. The bitter irony of the situation lies in the fact that the Senator thus sent me a response belying her belief that “faithful” or “Christian” means exclusively conservative.
Perhaps, this is an isolated instance of jumping to conclusions. I don’t know for sure. Perhaps, Senator Stabenow truly espouses a marvelous comprehension of how a progressive vision of politics in the US corresponds to a faithful vision of US politics. Perhaps, someone just had a lapse in judgement, someone just used heuristic knowlege THIS ONE TIME to process my letter about faith and the democratic party. Perhaps.
I’d love to be proven wrong. But, I doubt it’s going to happen.
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03.19.05
Posted in faith, politics at 12:02 pm by
So, I get two emails from Debbie Stabenow today. One from the mass email petition organized by Sojourners, and one from the email that I sent to her earlier this week.
I’m VERY disappointed in the lack of thought, and people pandering present in her replies. I’ve pasted them below so you can have a look. In the email response to the Sojourners email Senator Stabenow’s aids clearly figured out that I was, in fact, a liberal. This was her response:
Thank you . . .
. . for contacting me regarding our budget priorities. I share your
belief that the budget should provide funding for important social
programs.
As a member of the Senate Budget Committee, I believe that the
budget must reflect the values and priorities of the American
people. We must have a balanced approach to our budget, one that
pays down the national debt and makes key investments in
education, health care, and tax relief for middle-income families.
As this year’s budget cycle moves forward, I will be fighting for
these priorities.
Thank you again for contacting my office. Please feel free to do so
again in the future whenever I can be of assistance to you and your
family.
Sincerely,
Debbie Stabenow
United States Senator
Then, I get this (form) letter in response to my carefully crafted personal email–a letter that didn’t really address the central concern of my correspondence at all. It seems that someone in the senator’s office read the word, “Christian” in my email and decided that I deserved this reply:
Thank you . . .
. . for contacting my office regarding wasteful government
spending. I share your views that we should strike unnecessary
projects and programs from the budget.
Like you, I am committed to setting the right priorities in our
nation’s budget. As a member of the Senate Budget Committee, I
will work for a budget that includes provisions for national defense
and domestic security, while at the same time preserving Social
Security and Medicare for the future. In this time of economic
uncertainty, it is more important that ever for the U.S. government
to exercise fiscal responsibility, and that means cutting
unnecessary and wasteful spending. Please rest assured that I will
keep your thoughts in mind as the budget process gets underway.
Thank you again for contacting my office. Please feel free to
contact me in the future whenever I can be of assistance to you and
your family.
Sincerely,
Debbie Stabenow
United States Senator
What a poignant support for my first email. Senator Stabenow’s staff read the word ‘Christian’ and saw nothing beyond that. They infered that because I, without apology, am a Christian, that I must also oppose ‘wasteful government spending.’ I can think of no other reason that whoever read my letter would have responded with such a message. They clearly cannot have read the part of my letter that said:
My desire to see social justice done, though, supersedes my desire to not have to spend the time required to draft a letter to my Senator. I am deeply and gravely concerned with the proposed budget for the next fiscal year.
The current President talks about moral values, and frankly, that sickens me as he’s recently proposed a budget that cuts benefits to the poor, pours even more money into the military, and offers tax cuts to the wealthiest of Americans–of these facts you are indubitably aware. Honestly, Ms. Stabenow, as a Christian I am deeply dismayed at the President’s manipulation of the tenets of my faith in order to win re-election. Now these questionable morals are being used to foist a neo-conservative agenda onto the American people.
Jim Wallis was right. The left really doesn’t get it.
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03.17.05
Posted in fun at 11:39 am by
CAT HAIKU
The food in my bowl
Is old, and more to the point
Contains no tuna.
So you want to play.
Will I claw at dancing string?
Your ankle’s closer.
There’s no dignity
In being sick - which is why
I don’t tell you where.
Seeking solitude
I am locked in the closet.
For once I need you.
Tiny can, dumped in
Plastic bowl. Presentation
One star; service: none.
Am I in your way?
You seem to have it backwards:
This pillow’s taken.
Your mouth is moving;
Up and down, emitting noise.
I’ve lost interest.
The dog wags his tail,
Seeking approval. See mine?
Different message.
My brain: walnut-sized.
Yours: largest among primates.
Yet, who leaves for work?
Most problems can be
Ignored. The more difficult
Ones can be slept through.
My affection is conditional.
Don’t stand up,
It’s your lap I love
Cats can’t steal the breath
Of children. But if my tail’s
Pulled again, I’ll learn.
I don’t mind being
Teased, any more than you mind
A skin graft or two.
So you call this thing
Your “cat carrier.” I call
These my “blades of death.”
Toy mice, dancing yarn
Meowing sounds. I’m convinced:
You’re an idiot.
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03.16.05
Posted in fun at 3:36 pm by
NOTE: This is a long entry, but I encourage you to stick it out, it’s worth the price of admission. It’s a bit on the gross side of things, but it’s a true story.
As it turns out, my ‘airing my dirty laundry’ post from yesterday will prove to be a bit of wicked foreshadowing about the story I’d like to tell you today. If you know me, you’ve likely already heard this story. I’m going to tell it anyway. Partially, I’ll tell it because I tell stories to people and then forget I’ve told them, until after I’ve told the story the second or third time (I may have even written about it on this blog, I can’t remember.) You’ll have to deal with that trait if you want to stick around here, I’ve tried to change it from my end but cannot. Mostly, though, I tell this story because I think it’s pretty damn funny and I laugh every time I picture it.
I was reminded of this story by a post my blog-friend Benjamin, over at Romanes Eunt Domus, told about a recent visit to the bathroom at work. You’ll have to read that post (follow the link) yourself. It’s worth the price of admission. Paranthetically, if you’re interested in why Benjamin and I should not be legally permitted to meet in person (especially within a 10 mile radius of any alcohol) read the comments of the post at his place that I linked to–after reading the comments there, the reasoning behind my statement that ‘there should be a law against he and I being friends’ should become crystal clear.
Okay. On to the story. I once had a job that took me to the east side of the state of Michigan. Specifically, the Detroit metropolitian area. Detroit sucks ass, for a number of reasons, which I would be happy to elaborate on at a later date. For now, all you need to know is that I was in the north suburbs of Detroit. Actually, I was in the most pretentious and ritzy suburb of Detroit. (That last statement isn’t exactly true, but I’m going to run with it for effect.)
When you travel for work and are essentially a salesperson, you eat out on your works’ buck often. By the time I made this trip, I had learned some valuable lessons about eating out. One was that you should always have reading material to avoid looking like a serial killer–everybody knows serial killers eat alone. Another rule is that you should drink a glass of water before ordering–damned flawed hunger reflex. And then, there were the ‘Brandon specific rules.’ These were rules that I had figured out so that I didn’t get sick, one of these rules was to NEVER, not under threat of torture, or even death, to EVER eat salad from a salad bar.
Why no salad? Good question. In dining establishments it is often the practice to drench lettuce and other vegetables with a preservative to keep them from turning all shitty looking. This preservative and I, well, we’re not friends.
Anyhow, one day, I see a place called Montana’s restaurant. After having lived in Montana for a while, I thought that it would bring back some great memories–and would probably have large pieces of red meat for the consuming. (This was a time saving technique I picked up–rather than to order off the menu, it was quicker to just have the waitstaff bring me, “The biggest piece of red meat that you offer, rare.”)
I didn’t have anywhere to be right after lunch, so I thought I would be okay eating a salad. I assumed, after all, that if any digestive pyrotechnics of the anal variety should ensue, well, I was close to a men’s room. Thus, I partook.
Well, friends, anal digestive pyrotechnics ensued, shortly after said salad was partooken of. Fortunately, I was near the men’s room. And, all was well in Brandon-ville. Unfortunately, that’s not where this story ends.
I left the restaurant at about 12:00 noon after my early lunch. I had about a 20 minute drive to my next appointment and it wasn’t until 2:45. I decided I’d take the long way (surface streets rather than the freeway) on over to my appointment at Troy High School. It was a beautiful drive. It was autumn and the trees were turning bright shades of orange and red. Gorgeous.
At some point during the trip from point A to point B, I started feeling a farmiliar sensation. You probably know the feeling, I imagine. It’s that bubbly feeling. Kind of like whatever is sloshing around in your descending colon is building up both gas pressure and loose sloshy shit pressure all at once. You have to fart, but you know that if you do, you’ll shart. (For those of you unfarmiliar with the term ’shart’ check this link.)
No matter; I thought. I assumed I should be able to find a restroom soon, after all, I was in a major metropolitan area. I kept one eye peeled for an establishment that offered a restroom. As I drove, though, my need to relieve myself grew exponentially. Finally, I spied an oasis. Somerset Collection.
Somerset Collection is the trendiest, swankiest, and yuppiest mall in Michigan. By the time I made it to a parking spot in the garage, I was no longer in need of a men’s room. I was in DIRE NEED of a men’s room. The bubbling from deep within me had escalated from a the gentle slosh reminiscent of waves lapping peacefully against the shore, to an all out perfect shit-storm with full blown 20 foot swells. My colon was pressurized, the only thing keeping its contents in check a rapidly tiring sphincter muscle.
Anyway, I walk into Somerset Collection on the second, of three floors. I walk around for a while–looking desperate I’m sure–on the second floor. It turns out that there are no restrooms on the whole damn second floor of the Somerset Collection. I found a map. Restrooms third floor. Perfect.
I walk to the escalator. Okay, that was a lie. Calling what I was doing at that point ‘walking’ is a just about as much a strech as George W. Bush calling himself compassionate. What I was doing was more of a waddle crossed with a sprint. I had to go so badly that I actually considered plugging the trap with a finger, and I would have done so had I not been nervous that all the commotion could have served as the last straw causing a premature blow-out.
To this day, I feel a little bad for knocking over that lady in the walker and shoving the mother pushing her stroller out of my way, but you really don’t know how you’ll react until you’re in the heat of battle. By the time I crested the top of the escalator I had broken into a cold sweat. My sphincter was about to go on strike from being overworked for the past 15 minutes. I was doing all I could to help matters down there by clinching my cheeks together…with my hand.
And then, like in a holy vision, there on the horizon, just through the food court was the men’s restroom. I could see it now. I would make it. I strode confidently–if one can, in fact, stride confidently after having made a mad dash through a food court whilst clenching one’s ass cheeks with one’s hand–toward the men’s room. I reached out my unoccupied hand and pushed the door open.
Friends, I know what it’s like when a sphincter fails. One might imagine that you have a little time, and with that little time you may imagine that you can pull some manual override switch to stop said sphincter failure until a containment barrier can be put in place. This is, rather unfortunatley, not the case–or at least it wasn’t the case for me. For just as I strode through the door to the men’s room, at that very moment, my sphincter released.
I grabbed the first open stall to survey the damage. The damage was extensive. There was crap everywhere. Now, you may think that by everywhere, I’m using the literary device of hyperbole. I am not. There was shit all over my boxer-shorts, and my khakis. These you would’ve expected. However, you may be surprised to find that in addition to my boxers and khakis my socks were ruined. I even managed to shoot some splatter up onto my undershirt and dress shirt. The only unsoiled items I owned were my shoes (God only knows how they were spared,) and my sportcoat.
I sat down on the toilet (also covered with diarrhea) and surveyed all I had done and for what seemed like a good three or four minutes was in shock. They don’t cover this in training, I thought. I mean, there’s no place that trains you what to do in such a situation. I couldn’t go out into the mall like I was now, but I couldn’t get new clothes to go out into the mall without any clothes on.
The only thing I knew I needed to do was to clean up, somehow. So, I disrobed. Top to bottom. Completely, totally, bare ass naked. There in the stall in the men’s restroom. First order of business was to clean a place to stand (I got shit all over the floor when I dropped trow to finish up business.) So there I was, a completely naked 25 year old man using toilet water and one-ply sanitary paper to clean the floor of the stall.
Once the floor and the stool were clean I sat down again (still naked) and tried to figure out how to clean myself up. First order of business, give the undercarriage a splash. (Yes, using toilet water. Trust me, at this point the last thing I cared about was sticking my hand into the toilet water.) Once I’d given myself a bit of a toilet-water bath, it was time to see if I couldn’t get back into some clothes. I’d already thrown my underware out (it was a lost cause), so I began work on the khakis. I adopted the ‘dunk and flush’ method for clothes cleaning. While I wasn’t able to entirely remove all traces of the events of the past 15 or so minutes, I was able to remove the big chunks. Eventually, I was able to dress myself, at least to a degree. I had on my shit-stained khakis, my t-shirt, my sportcoat, and shoes with no socks.
Now, some of you may think you know what it’s like to take a walk of shame. I would dare to wager a reasonably good sized wager, though, that my walk of shame trumps yours. The slow stroll through Somerset Collection to Marshall Fields, with the ‘dripping wet from toilet water’ shit-stained khakis, was probably one of the most humiliating I can imagine.
When I got to Marshall Field’s men’s department, I walked directly to the counter and requested a piece of paper. On that paper, I wrote down a list of things I needed. It went something like this:
Boxer shorts - Large
Khaki’s flat front - 38Wx34L
Dress shirt that matches khakis
Undershirt
Socks that match khakis
Tie that matches shirt
The man who helped me, his name was Juan. I, to this day, love Juan. Here’s how Juan and my conversation went:
Me: Juan, I need you to do me a favor.
Juan: What do you need?
Me: I need you to give me a plastic bag, a big one. Then I’m going to go into that dressing room.
Juan: Okay.
Me: Great. Now, what I need you to do, is take this credit card and ring up everything on this list. I don’t care what colors you pick. Then, when you’ve got everything, bring it over to that dressing room that I’m in, and slide it under the door.
Juan: Okay.
Me: And if you wouldn’t mind not asking any questions, I’d really appreciate it.
Juan: Okay.
Juan came through, and in the end (after an Italian bath of cologne from the tester tray at Marshal Fields) I came out alright, too. In the end, this is what I take away from the situation: It’s probably never going to get worse for me, everything’s probably downhill from here.
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03.15.05
Posted in life at 11:01 pm by
Sometimes I get to wondering if I really have anymore blog entries left in me. Yes, I’m sure I could dig up the next big fundamentalist movement and write about how dumb they are, and why they’re wrong. But, to tell the truth–and I don’t want to sound too arrogant here–it’s just not that hard to rip these idiots a new asshole. This kind of blog posting is kind of like fishing in a stocked trout pond. You’re really fishing, but the truth of the matter is that the excitement, the thrill of the hunt (so to speak) is a bit lacking.
It’s a bit hard as a writer to spend time on more in depth targets. I mean, the narcissist in me can count on getting hits from all over the internet if I properly use cues that will get picked up in the search engine. (Not that search engine placement is a less noble goal by any means.) Yes, my ego gets stroked when I post those kind of things.
I also rather enjoy getting a person riled up–for example, our friend Kent on the most recent abortion post. As long as I’m being honest, I just loved pissing him off and making him look stupid. Nice? No, not really, but it was enjoyable for me. (Yes. That’s hard to admit.)
Sometimes I feel like the quality of an entry can be judged by the quantity of comments and trackbacks it attracts. On the surface, that seems like a logical notion. However, if I pry a little deeper into my heart, I think that there’s more to it than that. I simply cannot believe that the only intrinsic value of a piece of writing is that meaning which the reader garners from a work.
The value to which I refer is that intrinsic value that is the benefit I receive from actually putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys as the case may be.) I know that there are bloggers out there who really are able to write for an audience–and what that audience thinks is the purpose of the writing. However, for a relatively small-time blogger like myself, there needs to be more than the quantitative popularity of anything I post.
I guess what I’m saying is that I think I need to get a little more selfish again. I write better when I do. When I write for others to read, I usually end up with something that others like–but I’m dissatisfied with the content. On the other hand, when I write for myself, when I’m very emotionally tied to my entries, it’s hard to bear when others don’t find them as enthralling as I. It’s like I’ve aired my dirty laundry for everyone to see, and then I’m not quite sure what everybody thinks of that laundry. To extend the analogy, you’re probably taken aback by the streaks in my boxers…okay…that analogy was officially extended too far.
It’s a catch 22. Either way, I’m so hopelessly addicted to the practice of writing often, I doubt I’ll quit anytime soon. I think, though, I’ll try to do a better job of keeping my laundry on the line…for some reason, I think what I write just ends up a little ‘truer’ that way.
Does that make sense?
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Posted in faith, politics at 12:01 pm by
I just thought I’d share a personal email I wrote to my senator this morning.
Dear Senator Stabenow,
Greetings from Grand Rapids! I should briefly take the time to introduce
myself. My name is Brandon and I’m currently a student studying
Communication at Michigan State University. I wanted to take the time to
write a more personal letter to you about some of my concerns. I’ve
written to you before, but those communications have largely been in the
form of large social action form letters–I even sent one off about the
proposed budget just this morning. I realize that you’ve probably read
some of these form letters, but, frankly, they’re form letters, they were
pretty easy to send.
My desire to see social justice done, though, supersedes my desire to not
have to spend the time required to draft a letter to my Senator. I am
deeply and gravely concerned with the proposed budget for the next fiscal
year.
The current President talks about moral values, and frankly, that sickens
me as he’s recently proposed a budget that cuts benefits to the poor, pours
even more money into the military, and offers tax cuts to the wealthiest of
Americans–of these facts you are indubitably aware. Honestly, Ms.
Stabenow, as a Christian I am deeply dismayed at the President’s
manipulation of the tenets of my faith in order to win re-election. Now
these questionable morals are being used to foist a neo-conservative agenda
onto the American people.
Ms. Stabenow, I am not alone. Many other deeply devout people have a
concern for the poor. Democrats have a responsibility to their
constituents to re-embrace and re-communicate their values in the context
of faith to people of faith. Many individuals, like myself, yearn for you
to reach out to us. We deeply desire that our faithful convictions–more
progressive in nature–receive resonation on the national level.
Re-communicating things of faith, though, Ms. Stabenow, does not mean a
watering down of who you are. More progressive Christians do not desire
that all politicians ‘convert to Christianity,’ ‘Christianize’ their
rhetoric, or espouse some proper degree of religiosity in order to quell
their constituency. We simply want you to be honest about who you are and
where you come from. We simply want you to talk about progressive values
in a context that expresses their congruence with issues of faith–whether
that faith is Christian or not.
People everywhere, regardless of their religious heritage, have grave
concerns over this proposed budget. It is woefully incongruent with the
historic tenets of Christianity or most other world religions. Please
speak out on my behalf, and on the behalf of countless other faithful
Americans.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Brandon
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03.14.05
Posted in blogvention at 8:54 pm by
In case you thought I forgot about blogvention, I haven’t. In case you’re new here and you have no idea what blogvention is, click here for a description of blogvention. However, in truth, there’s not much description yet as to what EXACTLY blogvention will be. That’s because nobody knows, at least not yet.
I have a plan to remedy this situation–as well as quell the upsurge of some of the recent requests that us Grand Rapids bloggers need a get together day. Being that blogvention is a mere 1 year and 1 month (give or take a day or two) away, it may be time that some plans–i.e. what the hell we’ll be doing for our one day gala–begin to firm up a bit.
As many of you already know blogvention will be happening in conjunction of another related event that may be of interest to many, if not all, of you. That event is a slightly more publicized festival known as the Festival of Faith and Writing–the previous link offers more information as well as a growing list of authors that will be speaking at the festival.
At any rate, we need to have a beer…oops…I mean meeting together to firm up the plans of blogvention. I have no problem with there being a few different expressions of the planning team because of our locational inability to meet simultaneously in a geographically convenient location (that is unless we all take a road trip to a Hooters in Nebraska, but I’m guessing that that’s probably not going to happen.)
So, as a first step and as Chair of the first annual or bi-annual blogvention, I’d like to begin taking requests to be a part of the planning process for blogvention. I’d like for anyone interested in being involved with the planning committee for blogvention to email me at this special address: blogvention [at] badchristian [dot] com . Please put the words ‘planning committee’ in the subject line.
From there I’ll figure out when and where our blogvention planning committee meetings should be held. For those of you not local to Grand Rapids, Michigan, please feel free to become a member of the ‘planning committee;’ however, expect to be delegated responsibility as a sub-committee member and to attend ‘virtual blogvention planning committee meetings’ on the internet.
For now, my friends that is all, but stay tuned for exciting blogvention news, events, and updates!
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03.09.05
Posted in life at 11:39 am by
Well friends, after a torrid day of posting yesterday, today I’ll have to leave you with those freshly minted posts. Hopefully, the two or three of you who show up here and read regularly will be sufficiently ‘tided over’ with those entries.
I am off to sunny (and hopefully warm) Florida for the weekend this afternoon. (Yes, it’s quite a long weekend.) Thus, I probably won’t be posting for a bit. Visit some links on the sidebar, and I’ll be back in action soon–hopefully by Monday.
Adios,
Brandon
A long Addendum:
It occurs to me that I should probably help to set the record straight about one of the topics of the ccm post below. Namely, in the past I and others have given a wrong impression about Christian Music Makeover. Allow me to briefly set the record a bit straighter.
1. If I ever gave the impression that Christian Music Makeover was anything other than a website, I was wrong. It’s a website about a band, that’s it.
2. The name of the site is, in fact Christian Music Makeover, not Making of the Christian Band, or anything else.
3. In fairness, I’m not entirely sure that the intent of the page I critiqued about the spiritual makeover of the band is intended to serve as a spiritual makeover for anyone other than the band. (Of course, neither is the page with the disclaimer about exercizing too much.)
4. Brian never sent a cease and desist ORDER to anyone, per se. He did send a request to a friend of mine that requested that he cease and desist from spreading inaccuracies and participating in what Brian perceived as personal attacks.
5. The creator of the site, Brian Mayes, has, in fact, been open to dialogue. My post was created in response to that openness to dialogue. I also welcome the dialogue of others particularly of differing opinions on the issues I’ve presented. What Brian has gone on the record (via CCM Buzz) about not being open to, is personal attacks. I expect that if a dialogue ensues on this site, that no personal attacks will be a part of said dialogue.
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03.08.05
Posted in faith at 10:55 pm by
Okay, yes. Three posts in one day is a bit on the ‘neurotic’ side of things, even for me. What can I say, I’m going away this weekend (sunny Florida here I come) and I have a lot of pent up blogging to get out of my system. This entry has been rattling around in my brain for some time. The truth is, I don’t want to write it.
Why not? I don’t know. I hate to be just one more voice singing the ‘CCM sucks’ hymn. It doesn’t sound much like a positive message, nor is it a very popular one in many circles. The statement, “CCM sucks,” brings with it almost immediate and vehement approval, or immediate and vehement disapproval from the hearers of said statement. When you criticize CCM, you don’t change very many minds. What you get is a bunch of people in the choir nodding their heads dogmatically, and a bunch of people who respond dogmatically, thoughtlessly, quickly, and often with a complete disregard for tact. The choir, of course, looks forward to swooping down upon these folks.
I’m really not looking for either response. I’m writing this post because I’m seeing some things out there in CCM land that just make me long for a big bonfire wherefore to throw all the Fender Stratocasters (or perhaps I should say Daisy Rock Guitars ™) in the world onto said fire so that I could dance naked around the flames hooting and hollering all the while. A touch fanciful? Yes. How I feel? Also, yes.
So, I’m not going to try to format a big decalogue/diatribe about CCM and EVERYTHING that’s wrong with it. I merely want to share with you some of the issues that have arisen in my heart that deeply concern me. So, with no drum roll, and no particular order here’s what I’m thinking:
On the issue of the Christian Music Makeover site:
Well, let me put it to you this way. I have a hard time reading the site while simultaneously suppressing the extreme urge to vomit. Why? Good question, I’m glad I asked.
These folks see fit to offer some guidelines for folks who would visit their ‘physical makeover’ portion of the site. Here’s an excerpt of the disclaimer:
The information in this site is meant to supplement, not replace, proper exercise training. All forms of exercise pose some inherent risks. ChristianMusicMakeover.com advises readers to take full responsibility for their safety and know their limits. Do not exercise or take risks beyond your level of experience, aptitude, training, and fitness. The exercise and dietary information in this site is not intended as a substitute for any exercise routine or treatment or dietary regimen that may have been prescribed by your doctor. As with all dietary and exercise programs, you should get your doctor’s approval before beginning.
Now, all gratitude due to the Christian Music Makeover folks. It’s probably good that they have this disclaimer on their ‘physical makeover’ section of the site. It gives the impression that a physical makeover is hard work, and they’re right. It is hard work to have a physical makeover (sans the surgical proceedures, that is.)
What gives me a bit more pause is that these folks also offer a portion of their website to the Spiritual Makeover. Now, if the devotionals offered on this page–there’ve been 4 to date from January 13 till now–are intended to be any type of exhaustive or rigorous spiritual excercize, I think the readers of Christian Music Makeover deserve a bit of disclaimer. The site offers none.
Here’s my version of what an appropriate disclaimer would look like:
The information in this site is meant to supplement, not replace, proper pursuit of spiritual things. All forms of spiritual exercise pose some inherent risks. ChristianMusicMakeover.com advises readers to take full responsibility for their safety and know their limits. Do not pursue Christ or take risks beyond your level of experience, aptitude, training, and fitness. The scriptural or devotional information in this site is not intended as a substitute for any Biblical study that may have been prescribed by your pastor. As with all devotional programs, you should get your pastor’s approval before beginning.
Frankly, though, you shouldn’t really expect much at all in the lines of spiritual growth from the devotionals offered on this site. Honestly, they really aren’t likely to be that spiritually challenging. Please strongly consider consulting an outside source for your spiritual growth.
On the issue of the general crappiness of lyrics:
Dear CCM listeners, for years your love of 3 chord songs has superceeded your desire and quest for meaningful lyrics. I plead with you, please friends, please demand more from the industry. You’ve heard all the ‘God is all I need’, ‘I’m so happy cuz’ I’m with Jesus,’ ‘I’m a Jesus Freak,’ ‘God kicks ass and takes names,’ etc. (ad infinitum) that you need. Pack up the dreams. It’s time to move on.
In being satisfied with and listening to the crap CCM passes off as a message you’ve aided and abedded these folks in propogating the disease of idiocy and anti-intellectualism that is quickly ruining the Church. When these folks spin this ‘everything goes better with God’ line of bullshit, and not a true message of how bad life can suck (i.e. drugs, death, divorce, suicide, hate, racism, alcoholism, addiction, and all other categories of lousy) sometimes and that God’s love supercedes all suckiness, they are lying to you. Wait. Hang on. Yes…let me repeat, they are lying to you. LYING. Stop being a vehicle for this smut.
Conclusion
Friends, it may be best if I let this essay draw to a close. I’m two beers in and I fear that if I don’t quit now, I may get venomous. I’d best stop writing–God knows, I’m not going to stop drinking.
A final note, though, to CCM producers everywhere. In the words of John Stewart, “Just…stop. It’s not so much that you’re bad–although you are bad, it’s that you’re hurting America.”
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Posted in faith at 8:46 pm by
Okay kiddies. It’s just about damn time we defined just what the hell we mean by ‘the emerging church.’ Frankly, I’m tired of feeling cautious about supporting the concept. I’m also tired of tenatively supporting a concept that I’m starting to wonder if I can’t get behind.
I know, I know, this is the ’social security’ (read: third rail) of the post-modern/modern church. We’re not supposed to define what we mean by ‘emergent.’ We’re just supposed to waffle and bicker over it’s meaning and what, if any, churches should belong to this nebulous club. After all, that kind of adds to the whole post-modern nature of the thing right, not having a definition makes it hip, right?
Look see, here’s the problem with not having a definition, or a more rigid concept of what something is. Quite simply, anybody with a guitar effects pedal, and a head pastor who wears torn jeans to church can now claim to be ‘emergent.’ And many of churches do just that, they call themselves emergent, but really that just means hip, cool, and/or edgy.
At the beginning of the movement (is it a movement, I don’t know…because it doesn’t have a definition) there may have been some value in NOT defining just exactly what emergent was. I don’t really know for sure. I think, though, that nowadays it’s become a sort of misnomer for the church with cool clothes on.
Particularly, the modern church with cool clothes on. The modern church with cool clothes on, to me isn’t really emerging from anything. However, lots of places like this love to wave the ‘emergent’ flag around. Emergent has become a sort of namebrand that a church can put on their sign, it comes with prepackaged worshippers. Emergent has so emerged with the younger church community that going to church at an ‘emerging church’ is kind of like wearing those ‘LA Gear’ shoes that came out in elementary and junior high (you know, the ones with the fake air pockets in them,) everybody who’s cool just does it. (Readers note: I was NOT cool, as I had some cheap knockoff brand tennis shoes in late elementary early junior high.)
Is emergent really just a trendier version of church? I’m afraid that it could become that. Without a definition that bounds what it means to be emerging/emergent, it’s really hard to say. As it stands, pretty much any church whose pastor has a soul patch and retro horn rimmed glasses can be an emerging church.
Now, this is not to say that all emerging churches need to be the same. I think that there’s room for a definition that accounts for diversity…even wide ranging diversity. However, without a definition, I don’t know that I’ll ever know if I feel comfortable with the idea of emergent or not.
I’m certainly intrigued by the concept of emergent. All I want is for someone to define the concept. That’s it. I’ll even accept a definition using a series of paradigm cases (that is a definition by use of examples of what would and would not be emergent.)
So, I suppose my proposal is this: It may be time to emerge from emergent.
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