More on Deuteronomy

Deut. 6:5-9
"Love the Lord your God with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give to you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home or when you walk along the road. When you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them the doorframes of your houses and on your gates...

...In the future, when your son asks 'What is the meaning of the stipulations, decrees, and laws the Lord has given you?' Tell him..."

I wonder if CS Lewis got his idea to write about the signs in The Silver Chair from this. I read the verses this morning. I've been reading a chapter a day. At this rate, I'll be plugging away for three years in order to read the entire Bible from cover to cover. Oh well. As long as God's speaking to me, I guess...

Of course this jumped out at me first because this is the commandment Jesus later coins as the most important. This is the commandment at the center of the rest of the commandments that will follow--some of them rediculous sounding, like the ones my brother just made film about (like not touching shrimp or something? Maybe I'll let you know when I get there.) Some are more practical, like don't have sex with your family members or your neighbor's wife. These days, it's weird to read all the commandments and try to decide which ones are still good to obey, or wonder if God gives commandments still that are so specific. Do we still have stipulations and decrees from God?

We're told that Jesus made it possible for us to fulfill this great command--to love him with everything we've got. We believe there's grace now--we don't have to do anything to recieve it. But I think obedience is still important to God. Our obedience comes from what he's doing within us, sure, and it doesn't determine our salvation, sure, but something else is going on, too. Jesus is renewing our minds.

Maybe the commandments for us have changed in nature--the ones that make it possible to live out the great commandment(s). They have become more personal. In my walk with God, there seems to be something he's trying to teach me and this lesson changes over time. The specifics, anyway. At one point, the early point, I believe he was teaching me to put him first, which required that I do some fasting from things that used to distract me from Him. Later on, his message to me was to chill out and find that he's everywhere. Not to be so careful all the time or I'll miss the work he's doing.

When we read the Gospels, we see that his messages are individual. At one point he's telling a guy to hush about who healed him. He tells another person to go around and tell everyone what she's seen. He tells the Pharisees they need to stop being hypocrites and he tells another guy his faith has healed him. But I think the reality is that we are all of these people, at one point or another. All of His messages to them are relavant at different stages in our lives. Because we are changing beings. We should be, anyway. We should be growing.

I'm a firm believer in a God who speaks to me all the time, who is always teaching me something and I just have to give him my attention to learn what that thing is. This is the message that I believe Moses mentions to the Israelites in his Deuteronomy sermon. I don't think he's telling the people to write all ten (or nine?) commandments on their gates or to fill their foreheads with so much writing, but to be alert to the commandments that are pressing on them. We're not always in positions to lust, for instance, but there may come a day when we struggle with that, so that's when we remember what God has to say about it. The same with being angry at a sibling, etc.

But maybe, because our spirits are awakened by Christ in us, God's individual messages to us take on a more spiritual nature, like the string of commands Paul has to offer the addressees of his letters. Maybe God's telling us to have joy, or peace, or remember that he's alive in us. Maybe these are the lessons we tell our sons and daughters now. Because the outward stuff--the physical stuff is taken care of through Christ's ressurrection. Now we're alive in a different way and need to focus on what's going on with our thoughts.

In truth, I believe that both messages were always apparent--the physical and spiritual laws, even before Jesus came to the earth. David certainly seems to need to hear about peace at times--and I'm sure the other things too. From the psalms, it seems that the spiritual gifts were as available then as they are now. So I think the messages to hear about joy, patience, humility, and to stop grumbling have always been out there for people.

I guess it all just comes back to that idea--what is God saying right now? And how are we responding to it? Do we read a message in the morning and then forget about it? Do we write it down but never read it again? Do we write it on our hands? Talk about it with our friends? Sing about it as we walk to work?

Or maybe it's the story that we tell--that's how we remember. Just like God asked the Israelites to constantly remind each other of how he brought them out of Egypt, we must return to the story of what God did for us--what he brought us out of, what he put to death so we could be resurrected.

In God's diverse messages for us, there is always something we need to be reminded of. And they always point back to the same old thing--loving God with everything he's made us out of.

Do not be terrified, do not be afraid of them. The Lord your God is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the desert. There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place. (Deuteronomy 1:29-31)

The world behind me, the cross before me.
No turning back, no turning back.
(I Have Decided to Follow Jesus)

He brought me all the way to Bangkok. He showed me many things to delight in here, meeting my needs every day, protecting me from disaster. He will be faithful to the end. Remembering what God has done in the past should give us confidence in our future--i.e. we should have no anxiety from thinking ahead. This frees us to think about the present, what God has given us now.

This also gives me the freedom to just write because I love to write, one sentence at a time, exploring realms through words. Each project for these applications is just an opportunity to write and discover through writing. I've fooled myself into believing that each of these writing assigments for applications will determine my future, but it doesn't work like that.

One more quote:
Life is a game
and True love is the trophy
(Rufus Wainwright, Poses)

God did what he did so we could move through this world fearlessly, like a game--to engage in our surroundings knowing there are no losers, there's not even teams (if we're all on the same team, are there teams?). This is what I think it means to have the world behind us--it means we don't let it dictate how we view our lives. Instead, we let the Spirit of Jesus reveal his truths in us and build our lives from there.

Divine Track List

Feeling a little down.
Put my ipod on shuffle.
Asked God to choose some songs he wanted me to hear.

1) Hotel Arizona (Wilco)
"I feel some connection between you and me
Well I guess there's some direction maybe you can't see"

2) Playboy Mansion (U2)
"Then will there be no time for sorrow
Then will there be no time for shame
And though I can't say why
I know I've got to believe"

3) Are You the One that I've Been Waiting For? (Nick Cave)
"As you've been moving surely toward me
My soul has comforted and assured me
That in time my heart it will reward me
And that all will be revealed"

4) Mother Popcorn (James Brown)

"Yeah! Popcorn! Oh! uh!
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
Yeah! EEEE Yeah!
Do the popcorn hu!
Ooooooooh!"

(My God really knows what cheers me. )

5) Changes Come (Over the Rhine)

"There is all this untouched beauty
The light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone

Jesus come
Turn the world around
Lay my burden down
Turn this world around"

5) Anything at All (Over the Rhine)
"Sooner or later, things will all come around for good.
Sooner or later I won't need anything at all."

6) God of Wonders (From May's Crosstian folder on my computer)
"The universe declares your majesty
Precious Lord, reveal your heart to me."

7) Everything in Its Right Place (Radiohead)

The title says all there needs to be said.

Thinking through...

Warning: lots of scrambles and generalizations here...

I've been having a lot of conversations about the two nations that live in Thailand. Thailand and Muang Thai. Thailand is the place that the farangs see, the tourist farangs and the foreigners who have lived here for years and years and never learned the language (or only know a tiny bit). That's the nation full of indoor rice shops with poorly translated menus. These restaurants vary in taste but usually don't compare to the restaurants that belong to Muang Thai--the Thailand that Thai speakers belong to.

I am in the middle, maybe the middle leaning towards the Thailand side, since I only know a minimal amount of Thai. So much goes on under the farang's noses, it's almost frightening. I've been able to see more than most farangs because of the music opportunities, because of P'Nui, etc. Because of friends. I've been into a Thai home and watched a soap opera with Amata. I've tried, assisted, to watch Thai news or read Thai newspapers. And of course, I have the Polling Center job around me. But seriously, I am still kept out of much that goes on here. I get glimpses, like when my boss told me that four years ago, the gov't instilled a no-tolerance drug policy which meant if you were caught selling drugs they'd shoot you, your wife, and your kids on the spot without trial. This policy is no longer in effect, but Good Lord. I never would have guessed that the "peaceful buddhist culture" they show the farangs would allow something like that.

And then there is the food on the street. Good food, found in places many farangs wouldn't be able to order at because there is no sign of the English language anywhere. This is a conscious decision, I think.

Do I have a desire to have people appreciate my home and culture? I guess I do. I tend to give lectures about Detroit music, history, etc. But I am not so sure that Thai pride is matched in any way by any american. Sometimes I think I wouldn't be surprised if a Thai rejected the gospel because Jesus wasn't Thai. Of course, Buddha wasn't either.

And then there's the hostility from the Farangs towards Thais. The Farangs that seem to look down on the Thais as if they are incompetant. I have heared the woman described as manipulative (though I would argue that the hundred dollar bill waved in front of Thai women is a type of manipulation). I have heard a critique that they keep their poor without money and the wealth is only handled by a select few (could this be universal?).

I've come across a man frustrated because his girlfriend's family won't meet him, because he's white. (After watching what white men have done to so many Thai women, is he surprised her parents don't want to meet him?) He says he wants to marry her, she's why he's here. The same man refuses to learn Thai, as it seems too feminine for him to produce those sounds. He has been here for two years, but says he has not really been in a situation where he heard the Thai language. And that is the best example of the two nations that exist here.

Is this the case with all farang men who marry Thai women? Do they fully expect the women to give up their language in their homes? If these men refuse to learn their lover's language, aren't they in some way refusing a part of their lover? Does "I love you," ever have the same effect from a person's second language that it does coming at them in their native tongue?

laugh of the week...

Claire L. has an album on her profile that includes a picture of her mother trying to brush her hair.

She commented: "Jungle fever has it's price white woman!"

Tore me up.

"Keep me honest 'cause I'd rather lie.
Keep me young and keep me satisfied."
~Kim Taylor

Sometimes songs really describe me. This one seems to be my anthem this morning.

Why is the Winter Light (by Franz Wright)

Why is the winter light
disturbing, and who
if anyone shares this impression?
If somebody enters the room
am I going to stop being afraid?
Why am I afraid
to go grocery shopping?
I suppose there is a pill for that, but
why? Surrounded by so vast
a cloud of witnesses
why do I feel this alone
in the first place? Is heaven a place
and if so, will our poor
hairy speechless forebears--
all millions of years of them--
be there to greet us
if and when we arrive? The meek
shall inherit Auschvitz, too,
if they're not careful. Where to such obscenities
of thought originate? And are the words
we speak being mercilessly recorded, or
are we speaking the already written
premeditated words? Why
do I want to live
forever, and the next day
fervently wish I had died
when I was young? Why do I abruptly feel blessed?
And if (and it does) this city harbors
a single individual suffering
unendurably, am I
prepared to take his place?

*

Empty me of the bitterness and disappointment of being nothing but
myself
Immerse me in the mystery of reality
Fill me with love for the truly afflicted
that hopeless love, if need be
make me one of them again--
Awaken me to the reality of this place
and from the longed-for or remembered place
And more than thus, behind each face
induct, oh introduce me in-
to the halting disturbed ungrammatical soundless
words of others' thoughts
not the drivel coming out of our mouths
Blot me out, fill me with nothing but consciousness
of the holiness, the meaning
of these unseeable, all
these unvisitable worlds which surround me:
others' actual thoughts--everything
I can't percieve yet
know

know it's there.

Grief

I just don't want to live in a world without my grandmother.

(But I guess this is where ancestor worship comes from--a way to cope with losing the people who helped form us. Our thoughts go to them and turn into prayers for all the information we forgot to ask when they were around.)

Poem

Void and coincidence and blessing
at our heels; the right words at the wrong time
trip over stream rocks and cling to twigs.
Followed and hounded, we step into emptiness.
We cannot carry this heavy world
though at times it fits into the small of our backs.

Little Buddhas spread across the table top;
smoke signals from our fingertips;
find us here. Behind the ham and cobs,
we claim to know so much from this mud reflection.
We touch the tip of thank you. Gratitude won’t fit
into our mouths. The consonants and vowels we speak:
after all this time of presumed fluency, we’ve uttered
mispronunciation and misunderstanding.

Our names engraved heaven’s cemetery stones.
After we die, we reach our zombie hands—we blind creeps--
And feel for our identities in this dust where we’ve returned.
A breath of laughter encompasses all revelation. Speak to us
in days when lilies are enough.

Coupla Quotes

So, too, home for the three wise men and for us is not the manger where the light is gentle and God is a child. Peace is there, the peace that passes all understanding, but is not to be ours yet for a while. We also must depart into our country again, where peace is not found in escape from the battle but in the very heat of the battle. For outlandish creatures like us, on our way to a heart, brain, and courage, Bethlehem is not the end of our journey but only the beginning--not home but the place through which we must pass if ever we are to reach home at last.
--Frederick Buechner

I will understand
Everything has its plan
Either way.
--Wilco

Relationships

(This post is not about my wife or my mistress, although it's been a long time since I've had a decent conversation with either of them and I'm looking forward to finding some quality time with them. Someday. Some day.)

I've found that I've had to give myself pep-talks lately... here's what the latest one has been like--it comes from some talks I've had with Bose.

We don't always have control who we have connections with. Connections link and sever constantly. The healthiest way to go about these relationships is to pay close attention to the ones we're connected with now--not to think too much about the severed ones... (the ones that dropped you in the basement, alone, which happens to be a nice place to pray for them.)

Who is with you now? Dump God's love all over them. Who is fading out to the background? Distribute love (action of) according to the divine proximities that come about just from being. Simply being, moving on from one phase to the next, is bound to throw different folks your way. You'll grieve over the ones that get pushed into the background but don't spend too many of your thoughts on them. Don't break your arms off trying to touch people just out of your reach. Give your hands to the ones in your reach.

Because no one is out of the Lord's reach. Including yourself. You cannot be out of your Lord's reach.

Even if those who are supposed to be closest to you, your brothers even, even if those who are supposed to be your brothers beat you up and sell you off to be a slave in a foreign land... the Lord is with you.

Musician Challenge

Pick an artist: Wilco

Using only SONG NAMES from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions...no repeating song names...


1.) Are you a male or female?
I'm the man who loves you

2.) Describe your self.
Misunderstood

3.) Describe your day?
on and on and on

4.) Describe where you currently live:
What's the World Got in Store?

5.) If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Impossible Germany

6.) Your best friend is:
Far Far Away

7.) Your favorite color is:
Pot Kettle Black

8.) You know that:
Less than you think

9.) What's the weather like?:
Red-eyed and blue.

10.) If your life was a television show, what would it be called?:
Kicking Television

11.) What is life to you?:
Airline to Heaven

12.) What is the best advice you have to give?:
Why would you wanna live?

13.) Describe your ex?:
Outtasite (Outtamind)

14.) Your current love interest?:
Dreamer in my Dreams

15.) What's your favorite hobby?
Wishful thinking

16.) When you think of your friends you think?:
The Late Greats

17.) What do your friends think of you?:
Shot in the arm

18.) What does your current love interest think of you?:
I Got You

19.) You always travel with?:
Jesus, etc.

20.) The best way to end a long day?:
Shake it Off

...we'd all eat tonight

i wish-

-i could, just for one day, choose the music we listen to in the office

-someone would build a sabor latino on my soi

-dale's bible study met on my soi

-wilco would come to bangkok

-joel would come back to bangkok

-i could concentrate on my story long enough to pump out a draft

-i had a friday night free again

-i could go to the store alone without wondering if i'd been scammed

-every song sounded as good as bongo bong

-every movie was as delightful as little miss sunshine

-americans loved badminton like thais love badminton

-i had a photographic memory

Gap

I watch P'Amata strut to P'Jar's desk and hautily relate a story about Choc in Thai. That's all I know, that it's about Choc. I heard his name and I can tell when she's speaking about her boyfriend because she throws her head back a little and adopts a sort of cutesy rhythm in her voice. P'Jar, I know, makes a dirty joke because she sniff's a bit and gets that glazed look on her face like she did something bad and then she grins and laughs at herself. P'Neung responds quite loud; his tenor voice rips through the office through chuckles. P'Amata is arguing with him now; arguing through a grin. Her hands aren't on her hips but her chin is up a bit, which is her equivalent. P'Nok Sirin joins the game and shouts from behind her desk, whining and giggling at the same time. Her giggle sounds like my Aunt Donna's--a high trill. Amata defends herself and shoots energy into her fists pointed to the ground. P'Nok gets louder. P'George doesn't seem like he's paying attention. He's glued to his screen with a disatisfied look on his face. Then he softly mutters something poignant and unemotional through an unchanged expression. This comment breaks everyone up with laughter which bounces off the walls. The crowded laughter lasts a good fifteen seconds.

My eyes fill up with tears. I don't expect this reaction but I'm used to it. I breathe deeply until the tears seep back into their ducts. I don't feel sad; I'm not going to bust out crying or anything, but I am isolated by the idea that even if I did understand what they were saying, I wouldn't understand in full because they have decades of context to bolster their language. This is why I don't burden anyone with a translation request. Instead, I just think about the relief of the campfire and jokes crackling up through the burning wood. I think about reciting Sendak books because I can, because I was in a children's musical that used them as the text. I think about Dale's living room and listening to a story about how his friends staged a pretend rapture with clothes on the dining room chairs. I think of Grandma Henry opening her cardinal and the tears that filled Uncle Paul's eyes. I remind myself that we all have our own.

Here's an interesting article I read about the Left Behind series, from the Salon.

Negative Attitudes toward the United States in the Muslim World: Do They Matter?

The man who gave the testimony (to Congress... that is a transcript) came to Bangkok and I met him with my boss. They worked on a survey together about Thai people's opinions of the US.

I was very impressed by the article.

(Sorry if the blog's getting too political. Eh, not that sorry.)

Song of David

Green pastures of mist and misery
Take us to the mountain bare and cold.
Lambs ask for everything without words
I sit and gaze at the same pile of stones
This is the shepherd phase and sheep are idiots
I pull those sheep over cliffs and I write tunes in my head
That will never be as good as they are in my head
And the pastures turn yellow corn joy fields
Let us sing a song for every dead person no one will remember
Let us praise the repetitive flowers.

Cento

I've written a cento before and posted on this blog and you can dig through and try to find it if you're really all that interested. It was made of ee cummings, Franz Wright, and Pablo Neruda. I'm too lazy to repost it.

A cento is a a poem pieced from other poems. Other people's poems only, I believe. The book I'm pulling these forms from says that someone made a cento about the life of Jesus and pulled all the lines out of Homer. I'd like to read that.

This time I decided to piece one from bits of Biblical Psalms i jotted down in my last journal. So, all the lines are from Psalms (though not necessarily David's) and I'm not sure which numbers... I sort of rearranged the phrases a bit. I used the NIV in case you want to find one of the lines...

HAND

Your hands made me and formed me
Do not utterly forsake me.
Though I constantly take my life in my hands
do not let my hopes be dashed.

Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge.
Give me understanding—

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
My eyes are fixed on you
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there, your hand will guide me.
the eyes of all who look to you
you give them their food at the proper time
you open your hand and satisfy the desires
of every living thing.

dirty thainglish

"did you eat your fuk yet?"

(fuk is a thai vegetable and yet means fuck in thai)

some thoughts on songwriting and being a copycat

When the distant world (Metro Detroiters) started to hand me Regina Spektor examples, I stepped back a second. The first time I listened to her I was afraid of her because I knew I'd want to just copy what she does. So I listened to her for a little bit and then stepped off. About a month later I wrote a song that goes a little something like this:

"Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied with me? (x3)
Everything I do is outta love for you
Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied?

Honey honey honey honey honey why you comin home so late? (x3)
you hang your coat and then straight to the tv den
honey honey honey honey honey why you coming home?"

And so on for three more verses. The guitar for that song is repetative and simple and it's really just me playing around with my voice. Or playing a game: how many note patterns can I find with these words before I start to clash with the background picking and if I do let myself clash, then when happens?

Then I realized that I was copying Regina Spektor, even though I had barely listened to her. Then the thought crossed my mind, and this was totally liberating, "Who cares?"

I decided to just let myself be influenced. Not by the pop-whines I hear in Thai but by what I want to be influenced by and not care.

Once upon a time I played a song about the Redford theater in Lisa's garage and she said "Dan Kahn?" when I finished and I almost started crying. I thought I'd been ruined because she was right, it sounded like "Coney Island" but not as good and if he heard my Old Redford song he'd scoff at me. I didn't think about how Dan Kahn sometimes impersonates Tom Waits when he's playing. (Though it might be different when it's your friend's style you're macking off of..?)

So about three or five months ago or something, I decided not to care. I'd listen to Regina Spektor and people can compare me to her or not or whatever. They can say I sound like I'm trying to be Joan Baez and I'll live. Seriously folks, this fear has made me want to stop songwriting.

Where does this fear come from? Definitely from my place as a younger sibling. I'm not sure if my brother ever did yell at me to stop copying him, but I've never babysat for someone who had a younger sibling who didn't yell at the younger sibling to stop copying. It has always been a terrifying prospect to me, that I might copy Ian. I always told that older sibling to leave the younger one alone and to take the compliment.

I guess we'l never be able to copy someone directly. And we'll never be able to come out completely original. It's best to just listen to the tunes and while listening, absorb. Later on we might go back to our songs and say, "Sheesh, I was listening to a lot of Jolie Holland at that time," but we'll never admit that. Or maybe we will.

If we ever get big enough to have an audience and a reviewer, we'll have to expect comparisons. I think if I ever get interviewed and someone asks me who I think I sound like I'll just say a mix between my mom's voice and my dad's.

This is from a Regina Spektor Interview:

So I’m guessing when you sit down to write music, you don’t go to yourself “Ok I have to make sure I don’t sound like this”?

No, no, actually it’s almost the opposite, like “I want to sound like this.” Because I always loved learning to copy voices. Like when I listened to Ella Fitzgerald the first time I would sing for hours and hours until I would get certain intonations a certain way. Or when I did Piaf I would try to get the accent the right way or I would listen to Patsy Kline and I would try to get a certain yodeler thing in my throat. I love finding stuff that people can do and trying to find it in my own vocal chords…like within my body. But it’s not like “I’m gonna write a song in the style of…”

But you can pull little things from other people. I was just talking about this with someone last night. It’s like being little thieves…but thieves of like, putting out feelers, like every time you watch a movie or look at people have a conversation—you’re just like stealing little specimens to use later. But you are an honorable thief and that’s the world of it, and other people are doing it and you see them and have a little nod with them, and it’s good. I guess thieving is the wrong word but it’s just filling yourself up with it all—consuming it.

calligram

A poem that makes a shape

OH NO
I don’t
like Eve
I believe
I coulda
done bet
ter. yes
I belie
ve I cou
lda done
and we
‘d all be
there pa
in free
yes in
deed eat
in’ fruits
and prun
in’ trees
if I’da
seen th
at snake
I’da kn
own I’d

a give
n him the
world’s first
DEATH

Bouts-Rimes

French for “rhymed ends.” It takes two people to make. One person sits down and lists rhyming words and the other takes those words and makes rhymed lines in the same order the rhymes were given. Requires “wit and mental agility.”

I had my boyfriend supply the rhymes:

scotch notch
will pill
grit mitt
broth moth
jack mack
fun run
over clover
great mate
bravery knavery
chose prose

At the quilted tablecloth she stirred her milk and scotch.
I would have been shouting if I raised my voice a notch.
“Each decision carried out,” she moaned, “becomes an act of will;
from folding heavy laundry to taking every pill.”

Before she’d had her freedom she’d had her share of grit;
her life smacked into a pop-up before it landed in a mitt.
I slipped into her tales while I sipped her onion broth
deciding she’s a butterfly (though she’d say she’s a moth).


If at the end we find the man who gave the beans to Jack
was the same who handed the bloody knife to Mack,
she won’t be surprised. She predicted all the fun
would become the very thing that made her drop it all and run.

And that’s all she can ruminate before her life is over;
she won’t pretend her shamrock was a four-leaf clover.
But in my eyes her shamrock is as intricate and great
as luck itself. Her thorn: her deceased mate

whose memory jabs the flesh of her mind. His bravery,
which won her heart, was blotted by his knavery.
“Maybe everything ain’t go the way I know I would have chose.”
Some moments are librettos slapped into a stretch of prose.

blues poem

In case you need a label like my brother puts on his pictures, that's John Lee Hooker.

A form derived from blues music. There are two kinds of blues poems. The first has no typical form but has blues content. The second might as well be lyrics to a blues song

Stanzas are typically the same line twice and then a third line that rhymes with the other ones. There’s often some slight variation with the first two lines.

Because the blues is one of my top favorite things in the world, I've posted three blues poems/song lyrics I've written. They go from latest to oldest.

NATURE BLUES

I came home one morning and found our house was gone
I came home one morning and found our house was gone
I couldn’t hardly tell what side the street I’s on.

I’da been back there just the other day
I’da been back there just the other day
Built a little sandbox for my babies to play

I went away on business, came back to mud and sand
I went away on business, came back to mud and sand
How God could let this happen, I just don’t understand

Aunty says her babies were playin in the road
Aunty lost her babies playing in the road
The road became a river, that’s the story she told.

I came home one morning and found our house was gone
I came home one morning and found our house was gone
I can’t hardly tell what side my life is on.

MEMORY BLUES

So you say you walked the streets calling out my name
So you say you walked the streets calling out my name
If you thought I’d smile to see you, baby that’s a shame

You disappeared one sunny morning
Now you come back to my door
Expecting me to get all weepy
Well I ain’t gon’ cry no more

It’s been years now honey, won’t you let me go my way
It’s been years now honey, won’t you let me go my way
There ain’t nothing about me same as yesterday

You disappeared one foggy morning
Now you come back to my door
Expecting me to get all weepy
Well I ain’t gon’ cry no more

You say you gotta memory of me I can’t recall
You say you gotta memory I’m sure I don’t recall
You said I told you that I loved you…
…I don’t remember that at all.

PORCH BLUES
(listen)

a quote from my next president

"I like to believe that for Lincoln it was never a matter of abandoning conviction for the sake of expediency,” Obama writes. “Rather . . . that we must talk and reach for common understandings, precisely because all of us are imperfect and can never act with the certainty that God is on our side.”

That's from the New Yorker. You can read the whole (wonderful) article here:
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/05/07/070507fa_fact_macfarquhar


Thanks, Zeile!

i miss
salsa
sports on television
yelling at comerica park
the little coffee shop near joel's
hannan house
making verbal wisecracks that are fully understood
chris m. on the guitar
youtube
the way my uncle paul tilts his head when he hits a high note
good music
the dia
life without humongous bugs
smoke rising in dale's living room

i don't miss
noting gas prices
food without spice
jackets
life without public transport options
life without so many green tea options
grocery shopping
doing laundry
socks

Blank Verse

Ten syllable lines that don’t rhyme. Made famous by Marlowe; lit up and smoked by Shakespeare. People still use them. Usually they’re used to tell stories.

Above Kreunteap,* out on a balcony,
we listened to the call of mutts below
and ate Pad Thai prepared upon a plugged-in
pan. We laughed in broken language. I learned
what they’ve done to my native tongue or call
my native land: in Thai, “Uncle Sam City.”

We laughed until she asked in broken English,
“How about your native people?” Chilis
lost their kick and I looked to the hazed moon
to smile upon my mind with a response.
“The natives that are left,” I said, “live alone,
on reserved land.”
. . . . . . . . “Why?”
. . . . . . . . . . . “The settlers forced them.”
I was the first to tell them of the Trail
of Tears. They sat in silence at the thought
of so much bloodshed; our national debt.

The King, I’m told, once redesigned the roads
of Kreunteap from his hospital window.
The King could find no rest when, below,
his people were stuck in traffic. He loved them
and couldn’t leave them, not one, behind.

(*Kreunteap=what natives call Bangkok. It means, “City of Angels.” The shortened name is, “Kreunteap a ha nakorn” but the actual name is about 30 times as long…

I had to put the dots in because the blogger wouldn't publish my spaces. Argh.)

This is what I do on my downtime between teaching people English... I will take this time because later on it might be fun to read... when I'm in a different phase of life. you know...

"ology" Survey

MOUTHOLOGY

Q. What is your salad dressing of choice?
Tahini

Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Once upon a time when Fast Food other than McDonalds was available, I sure liked Taco Bell.

Q. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
My Little Indian. Actually it's called "Happy Food." It's a Burmese-run Indian food joint on someone's "porch" near my building. It's delicious and cheeeeeeap.

Q. On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
No tipping in Thailand. Once upon a time I tipped usually around 20%, never less unless the service was exceptionally terrible.

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick off of?
Graham Crackers. I'm pretty sure I know from experience?

Q. What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Ham and Mushroom. Still my favorite.

Q. What do you like to put on your toast?
Nutella

Q. What is your favorite type of gum?
Double Mint and Bazooka for the lucky numbers.

TECHNOLOGY

Q. Number of contacts in your cell phone?
Less than 20, now that I had to get a new one. None of you are in it!

Q. Number of contacts in your email address book?
Hell if I know.

Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
Joel and Nora at the Tiger's Game. The one where I'm wearing braids and he's looking a little older than usual and we look sick. But I love that picture!

Q. How many televisions are in your house?
There is a television in my abode? I nearly forgot.

Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Right handed

Q. Do you like your smile?
my teeth could be a little smaller...

Q. What's your best feature?
my wit, when it's working.

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
teeth and skin and earwax... dirt and sweat.

Q. Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
well, since I wear glasses and am partially deaf, have hard skin and bad sinuses... That leaves my sense of ESP?

Q. When was the last time you had a cavity?
I dont know... I'm not really sure if I've ever had one. I've had fillings for what the dentist said were only cavity threats. yeah, i'm confused too.

Q. What is the heaviest item you lifted last?
Okay, this is really the most random question I've ever seen on one of these atroicious things. The last heavy thing i lifted, i guess, was my guitar and case... it gets heavy when i walk it half a mile up the road to our church.

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
i don't remember. ha.

BULL[shit]OLOGY

Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
no.

Q. Is love for real?
why wouldn't it be?

Q. If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?
I think I'd keep my name, but... I am loving some of these Thai names: Siripan, Chirasak, Teerawat, Naremon, etc.

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
I like green on me. Other people seem to like pink.

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
Um. not that i can remember. Is gum a non food item? Probably ants and mosquitoes and spiders in my sleep.

Q. Have you ever saved someone's life?
not that i can remember. i've more often put lives in danger, i'm sure.

Q. Has someone ever saved yours?
when i first came here, p'nui saved me from so many cars coming at me from unexpected directions. and i think my brother might have saved me from drowning...

DAREOLOGY

Q. Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
no doubt

Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
sure

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
no way

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000?
yep, though i'm hoping it would sadden people who keep in touch with me that way, being all the way over here.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
$250,000... yeah i'd do it.

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
all at once? yes, but i would do it so slowly...

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
nope.

Q. Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
for 10 years!

DUMBOLOGY

Q: What is in your left pocket?
air

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
Yes, because of Pedro. Because of Pedro's Pinata.

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
linoleum.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?
um, does any one NOT stand? cripples?

Q: Could you live with roommates?
I'm liking the alone thing but I'm not picky.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
I live in Thailand, where they are essential. I have two pairs here and I think 1 pair in Detroit.

Q: Where were you born?
Sinai.

Q: Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
When that jerk broke Joel's mirror. I'm still mad.

Q: Who is number 1 on your top 8
P'JoEL I wish he'd change his Myspace name to that.

LASTOLOGY

Q: Last person you called?
Called... hm. Tee.

Q: Person you hugged?
The pastor's wife.

FAVORITOLOGY

Q: Number?
24--how old i was when i came to thailand, the name of my road in thailand, and in thai it's "ee'sip'see"

Q: Color?
blue

Q: Season?
autumn. sob!


CURRENTOLOGY

Q: Missing someone?
more than one someone

Q: Mood?
super excited

Q: Listening to?
Thai pop in the background of the office. It's terrible. Don't try it at home.

Q: Watching?
My coworkers crack up at something... Don't ask me what.

Q: Worrying about?
Nothing. I quit worrying.

RANDOMOLOGY

Q: First place you went this morning?
To find P'Nui's lost shirt. The laundry ladies lost it and I had to retrieve it. I borrowed her shirt because I had a meeting. 2 meetings. and I needed her suits.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
I'm pretty excited about many things. One is talking to Bose on the phone tonight. Another is cooking with the P's tonight on P'G's 21st floor... great view; great times. Maybe... sometimes the P's change their minds. But of COURSE I'm most excited about saturday!!

Q: What's the last movie you saw?
Last night I watched this Jennifer Love Hewitt Indie movie called "If Only" and I can't decide if I enjoyed it or not. I definitely don't love her but maybe the movie was decent?

Q: Do you smile often?
YES. Especially when I think of how soon it will be that I will see Joel.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
Yep.

Q: Now that the survey's done what are you going to do?
Go home and change my shoes. And then hopefully off to Big C to buy stuff to make Jambalaya!

ballade

Mostly used by the French in the 14th and 15th centuries. Complicated as hell (see picture attached to the "judgement" post for an illustration of how complicated this is). Stresses rhyme.

Form:

Three stanzas and a short one (envoi). The envoi addresses an important person or sums up the meaning of the poem.

Each stanza has eight lines. They follow the same rhyme scheme and use the same rhymes. The Rhyme Scheme is: ababbcbC ababbcbC ababbcbC bcbC. C is always the same line.

Other forms:
ababbccdcD, ababbccdcD, ababbccdcD, ccdcD
Twelve line stanzas, six line envoi
Double ballade: six stanzas of eight, ten, or twelve lines but no envoi.

(I took a shot at the standard one...)

In the darkest corner of an unborn heart
(where phantoms asleep with fantasies
stifle glimmers of a new start),
You wait. A grove of dead trees,
still in a violent breeze
reach softly to a sky
of stars. In post-disease,
let them listen to creation’s cry.

Behind the grove in a broken down cart,
painted red with a missing wheel, she lies
staring at nighttime clouds. Quiet Mozart
fills her chest with perfect harmonies.
In the pile of documentaries
this world keeps secret, she’ll try
for dreams—in broadcast pleas,
let them listen to creation’s cry.

Backstage before the play will start:
cracked mirror make-up sessions. She’s
barely memorized her bit part
and not a one to wing it. In balconies,
angels and zombies give silent cheers; the Marquis’
announcement soon to be a lie.
When these shows are forgotten entities,
let them listen to creation’s cry.

You stepped on every species.
In all forgotten forests, you hide
your solemn footprints for blinded men to see.
Let them listen to creation’s cry

is it just me, or does kim taylor sing, "it hits you like a gay brother"

and if so, what does that mean? and is it narrow to say i can't imagine a gay man hitting me? yes, that is narrow as i am narrow.

Bush Sautes Tuskugee Airmen.

Yep. That's what the MSNnbc Headline said on my hotmail.

Okay, so I am totally missing music shows. I wrote this poem for my exchange with Bethany but sort of liked it so I'm posting it here, too. Not so sure about the year for the stones...

MUSIC WORSHIP

florescent sweat, ochre heat
and the bass rhythm grabs us
by our sticky shirts and takes us
where we forget and submit
by closing our eyes. we forget
the stench and dripping bodies
smashed into us on every side

some take trips but the sound is enough
to spark images of calm. a soft voice
amplified to an echo
followed by a cheer
finished by that one who
always roars a yeeah to ignite
the snare drum count-off
and we blast off and we
shake in rhythm because we
are invisible beneath the spotlights
on someone else

at the rock and roll hall of fame
i learned there was a movement
in my parent's time
against the satanic forces
in electric guitars. acid children
climaxing on musicwas not
the way to heaven.

when my father found jesus
he gave away his 1969 stones tour tickets.
he couldn't worship them anymore.
my brother finds jesus again
and again at u2 concerts,
saw him, for the first time,
worship:
hands in the air,
eyes closed,
he flew out of the arena.

when i sing alone
to a city beyond glass
and an omnipresent god,
i am invisible under the spotlight
on someone else.

Judge

Today I woke up with some funny questions:

1) Does Jesus ever talk about our judgement apart from when we judge others? (I.E, does he ever mention that we're judged for any other reason than judging others?)
2) Is judgement talked about differently in the OT and the NT?

I hate to use the Bible in concordance fashion... I'd rather just read it through and find out for

myself what Judgement is in the Bible and if the nature of it changed with Jesus' blood. Even so, I used the concordance here to get a general idea of what judgement is in the Bible:

You might find this as interesting as I did skimming it:
JUDGE

I don't want to say too much here because it's highly likely that I have certain ideas that I used that bit of information to back up, rather than having an openess to recieve the truth. I confess, I didn't even pray before I read that. But I will pray about those questions, plus the general question of what the hell is Judgement, anyway?

Joel is bringing my big study Bible with cross-references to Thailand. I'm planning, for the first time, to get through the entire Old Testament. I have two weeks to prepare for studying that chunk I tend to avoid or give up on. In the meantime, I will try to prepare through questions and prayer.

I have had two conversations regarding judgement lately. The first left my friend and me with the unanswered question, is it our responsibility to call-out our friends when we think they need corrections? The second conversation was finished with either a question or a statement: the difference between telling someone they are going to hell and telling someone to go to hell.

Is telling someone they are going to hell a judgement? (ha, I will never tell anyone that, but still...)

Does anyone really say, "go to hell" and really believe that they have the power to send them to hello, anyway?

And am I going to get creamed for judging people for judging?

Okay... I'll leave you all with that.

Ballads

Tell exciting stories, usually about lost love. Set to eerie tunes. They are a way to express strong feelings from a tragic event. Traditional British ballads are written with four line stanzas--lines 2 and 4 have 3 beats and rhyme. Literary ballads are written to be said, not sung. Images are key in either form.

I have posted two ballads here--both set to music (however, I haven't applied music yet to the second one...)

BALLAD OF THE FAIR WEATHER LOVE

The clouds do gather here, my love,
and darken the midday sky.
The rain will come down soon, my love,
and wash away the day light

Do you remember yesterday
when happier songs were sung?
Do you remember what you said
when day had just begun?

You said you’d love me for all time;
you’d never leave my side.
Now you’re packing up your things
(your words emerge to lies).

How can I learn to breathe again
as I breathed with your ear to my chest?
Will I learn to sleep again
in our cold and empty nest?

And when I hear those songs, my love,
the ones you sang to me
how can I keep from breaking down
at their piercing melodies?

What should I now say, my love
I’ll be happy when you’re gone?
How long must I wait, my love
before I can move on?

The clouds do gather here, my love,
and darken the midday sky.
The rain will come down soon, my love,
and wash away the daylight.

Find a warmer place, my love,
go where the sun does shine.
I’ll forget my fair-weather love
who loved me for a short time.

Here's my second stab at a ballad:

THE BALLAD OF C WALKER

when she walked into the room
when she came around
good people watched the floor
and no one made a sound

she raised her hand in sharing time
we tensed up in our chairs
she spoke and spoke till someone asked
if someone else would share

when she walked into the room
when she came around
good people turned their heads
and no one made a sound


she wailed along with Joplin
on a rainy Friday night
dancing with herself
her tumbling world took flight

she spoke to us for hours
but now that she’s dead
can we recall a single word
this shaking woman said?

her aching soul departed
in January gloom
where scribbled lists of prayers
were found in every room

good people look to heaven
in memory, confess
while we were forgetting her
she was praying for us

when she walks into the room
we’ll all fall to the ground
light from every limb
a song from every sound

thefollowingposthasbeenwrittenwiththaipunctuation

idon'twanttohearaprettyvoice ifiwanttohearaprettyvoicei'llgototheopera saysomethingwithyour prettyvoice don'tjustlistentoyourselfsing actuallysaysomething writesongstoconveyamessage idon'twanttolistentomyownideaswhenisingbutexpressmyideas musichasallsortsofpurposesbutletitnotbecreatedinordertoshowoff it'sthedifferencebetweenkarenberquistandcelinedion oneofthemanyway jonimitchellhadamessageandjoanbaezlikedthesoundofherownvoice dankahnandreginaspektorarestorytellers whatarewesayingwithourmusic bonostandsoutassomeonewithagreatvoiceandagreatmessage amicontributingtothestreamoramijustapuddle

ishakelikeateacupwhenihearmyselfsing
wilco

i miss:
nachos
the great lakes
daily interraction with children
a season without mosquitos
music shows
hot chocolate
baking cookies
slippers, a coat, and a cigarette
heaps of covers
cajun spices



i don't miss:
driving
memorizing lines
local news
thinking about one language at a time
wearing boots
beer
that van
unthawing feet
fast food drive thrus
socks

ALPHABET POEMS

Uses letters as points of departure for lines or whole poems.

exercise uno

Write a poem just from the way the letter looks.

WHO ARE YOU. CROOKED Z?

Scurrying down the steps

your keys wait by the door

next in line
your wallet waits in the pocket
of another coat.

exercise dos
write a 26 letter poem with a-z as the first letters of each word.

bold catastrophes drip energy.
forget gain.
hold instances judiciously
(karma.)
like monkeys navigate
orangutan prairies.
(quite.)
red supermodels
trust underwear
(vixens.)
witchdoctor xenophobes yell zulu.

acrostics one and two

First letters in each line make a word, phrase, or sentence.

Exercise Uno:

Single Acrostic

Write a word/phrase/sentence down the side and then try to fill in the words. Best written at top speed.

BABY SITTER

Of course we don’t know much;
next to nothing, only the vaguest details,
we might say.

Across oceans of ambivalence,
roads, winding around passion,
did we stop to breathe? Did
we once take a moment, and,
earnestly, count what has been
made or what had been destroyed?
Are we made to worship this
reality? On the dining-room
chair: hardened macaroni, a golden
hair, a sticky blob of warm vanilla.

Exercise Dos

Double Acrostic

Make a phrase on both sides of the line


another girl has
negotiated with a guru:
drug dealing aphrodisiac
of a part-time patch
the man did not know
her heart, ripped into
ephemeral fleets of promise
revealed only to the greats

Abstract Poem III

Exercise tres

Take an existing poem and take out enough words so it makes no sense but the words sound cool


4th of July

(Version One)

the world's in flame
or so it seems
i hear cannons and popcorn
two neighborhoods away
i see red and blewdust and smoke crawls
over pines and maples
and oaks in bloom
surrounding my subdivision
this is not war, this is
celebration, the grand finale now
mimics the more exuberant display
over windsor, hart plaza, for fearless
crowds who've dared to cross
the city line. canada and states uniteto salute the flags that stream behind
jets above the river tonight
explosives equal freedomwe are free

mysterious creation
the sliver of pink haze moon
still glows. you can find it
somehow still more spectacular


(Version Two:)

this is not war,
this is the grand finale.

fear crowds salute:
explosives equal freedom.

(mysterious creation of pink haze moon
somehow more spectacular)

Abstract Poem II

Exercise dos
Take a poem by you or someone else and change most of the words:
Count the nouns, verbs, and adjectives. List these parts of speech in numbers equal to that in the poem. Replace the corresponding words in the poem. You can play around with the choices and modify the verbs appropriately.

(from ee )

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

--
(verbs(12): grow, find, search, greet, hate, heal, snuff, reach, teach, grasp, cut, quit
nouns (20): blanket, queen, perfume, alligator, novel, feather-duster, scythe, prayer, pain, top-hat, passageway, nation, steamboat, snowflake, ladybug, amulet, talisman, wrinkle, timepiece, swirl
adj (14): gray, withered, stooped, crunchy, stiff, lackadaisical, carefree, ephemeral, caustic, roundabout, grand, lofty, equivocal, soft)
--

i find You God for most this stiff
top-hat: for the searching crunchy passageways of scythes
and a withered soft steamboat of pain; and for everything
which is grand which is equivocal which is yes

(i who have taught and am caustic again today,
and this is the nation's talisman; this is the amulet
queen of prayer and of ladybugs and wrinkles: and of the stooped
ephemeral feather-duster carefree timepiece)

how should greeting hating grasping cutting
healing any—growing from the blanket
of perfume--alligator merely reaching
snowflake lackadaisical You?

(now the swirl of my swirls roundabout and
now the novel of my novels is gray)

Poetry Forms

(I am going through my mom's book of poetry forms. I was doing this before, in the US, but lost my disk with them on it. Woe was me... Luckily, I had posted many on this blog. Since moving halfway across the world lends itself as a nice fresh start, I decided to go through the forms again, from the beginning.

Feel free to take the forms and experiment with them. High heavenly rankings to those who post their poems in the comment section...)


1. ABSTRACT POEM

Experiments of pattern and sound
The meaning is secondary to the sound of the word
Can also be abstract based on density of images

Exercise Uno take a word and say it over and over until it loses its meaning so then the mind is focused on sound. Then write whatever comes to mind because of the sounds.

(Word choice: peanut)

The Plexiglas crack of finery
spews gross pleas into cherry tree smiles. The girls
forgot to love the sticky canvass of personality
and whisk the brisk bunny away. Many swish
across the velvet mud; the whole of happiness
stirs pudding in wooden hate, crying out to woven
pitfalls. Stopping. Cursing
the swords of saints,
generosity seeps deep into bowls of lemons.

saai can mean left, sand, or late, depending on tone * the cup i'm drinking out of says: If you want a wicked time/then Amy is the one/Because she's really funky/and flippen loads of fun! * There is a blue flower painted on the back of the cat Joel sent me from MexicoTOWN * I can still wear flip flops * I always buy the wrong drink because I don't read labels carefully enough to find that the contents are written in English somewhere on there too * Eating Thai pineapple is a sort of rebirth * P'George spelled Sinderlela like that * I have my own room * My mind is expanding * I'm eating a chocolate covered bread stick and when an officemate handed it to me she said, "pock-EE" because it's called Pockey * I have a blue ink spot right above my writer's bump because I had a leaky pen when I prayed this morning... through ink * I don't have to impress anyone * I'm not driving and don't pay for car insurance * I eat Indian food everyday for 20 baht a plate, in someone's front "yard" * P'Nui always says "closely" when she means "close," so to her, something is always "closely to" something else. * My friend May has the most mischeivous laugh I've ever heard and it is loud * Pink is not a feminine color in Thailand * Being a transvestite is perfectly acceptable here * I don't have to prepare for auditions anymore * I have three poetry braids going on at once and they are good for me * My relationship with God is not abstract * Thais believe that if your spoon hits someone elses at dinner (when you're both taking soup from the same bowl because everyone shares the same bowl) that means you will have a visitor and for some reason that's a bad thing * I have enough

Song For Joel

(guitar picking includes what sounds like a clock chime... hurray)

I wait for the clock
There are better things to do
learn the language, or sleep
write a letter to you

I wait for a prayer
confirmation song, a dream
Walk across an ocean
wake a faithless scream

I wait for the silence
when words are not required
just a sigh, from time
a whine: I'm tired

I wait for surprise
hope I'll not expect
so much I'm disappointed
and don't want what I get

I wait for a selah
a break into a twist
when nothing can be questioned
when no one can be missed.

This is for Bose. And anyone else who is cool enough to appreciate it.

INTERVIEW GAME

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better ! If I already know you well, expect the questions may be a little more intimate!
3. You WILL update your [online journal] with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

These question are from my cousin:

1. Do you find yourself gravitating towards/exploring any particular subject matter in your writing lately? Say a little about that...

I wish I was more disciplined in my writing so I could answer this better. I’ve noticed that disappointment—in others (particularly leaders and mentors), in the protagonist’s self—comes up quite a bit. I’m haunted by what the English language means to the rest of the world, but I’m struggling with a way to express my thoughts about it. In my songs, the idea that God is everywhere keeps popping up. In free writing, these ideas of what the blues means to me are brought about three or four times per session. I don’t know how to write about that because everything I could say about it, James Baldwin has already said better in Sonny’s Blues. I’m not really working on a particular piece at the moment, so this question is a bit hard to answer.

2. How do you and your brother relate differently to your parents?

He might disagree, but I always figured Ian could relate better to my mother than I can and that I relate better to my dad. I have a lot more in common with my dad and ha, know how to get what I want out of him. I’ve always been able to put the cute on so he’d run out the door to buy me a pack of skittles. My mom doesn’t operate that way. I’m being silly here… Actually, I think it’s because my personality is more similar to my dad’s. Even though I don’t talk to him as often as I’d like, I find that he pops up all the time in my actions and reactions. For instance, the other day an Indian gentleman tried to sell me something at the market--like a lottery ticket or something--by buttering me up, saying, “Hello Beautiful. Where are you from, Beautiful?” And I looked at him straight in the face and said, “India,” and walked away. That’s the kind of gruff thing my dad pulls on salespeople. Also, when I come up against something that hinders productiveness—people dallying around trying to make decisions, I tend to get overly frustrated and grumpy. Not to say that all that I get from my dad is being gruff and grumpy… we’re both quick to act, looking for ways to be wise, apt take adventures, prone to talking a lot and too loud (something that separates me from most Thais. Ha.), sociable, and uninhibited. I think we usually attack assignments in a similar way and that’s why we can communicate well. My mother is a dear, but we misunderstand and misinterpret each other a lot.

As far as how my brother and I relate to our parents as a contingent, well, I guess that is always changing. He sees them more than me now, but when I lived with my parents, Ian coming was kind of a phenomenon. I think my parents have been trying, for the past few years, to figure out how to relate to me as I am not really living with them, but they still believe I am under their authority (from a Haskell principle I was reminded of many times about a woman being under the authority of her father until she got married…) Ian never had this kind of philosophy to factor into his relationship with them. So, though I’m not sure of the specifics, I know that Ian and I relate to them quite differently.

3. How do you think other people see you; is that something you think much about?

Whoa, what a question. I have had a lot of relationships with people—blame it on years and years of theater friendships, when I’d have three weeks to try to spend enough time with someone to feel comfortable on stage with them, the performance-run time of feeling like I’d gained a new best friend, and then another two weeks of show-friend with drawl. In this context, I am quite used to the fact that people see me as quiet and mousy at first. Maybe even ditzy because I get quite nervous and stammering when I am with people I don’t know. Then, they hear me say something like, “that shit cracks me up!” and they know I am cool and have a naughty sense of humor. As a short person, I will probably always try to compensate size with volume—and I don’t just mean verbal volume.

Those are the generalizations. People who know me well probably all see me quite different. I think at the office they think I’m the loud American who never stops playing around. I’m not sure, but that’s what I think. I’ll always wonder what my Christian brothers and sisters think of me—they are the people I whose opinions I think about the most.

So I think about this stuff a lot. I will admit that people’s opinions of me don’t factor into my actions much. Ha.

4. Your experience of coming to faith seems much different than mine, but I've only heard scraps. Can you talk about that--give your "testimony," in a nutshell? What made you follow?

Coming to Faith. Right. I guess my testimony would be just an account how my faith has grown… It’s all in phases, you know, but I do believe it gets bigger every time. Some people would condemn my story as maybe an account of “roller coaster faith” but get real… resurrection requires dying and being brought back to life. Okay, I’ll try to stay nutshellish.

I can’t remember a time I didn’t pray regularly. I do remember a time when my mother and I prayed for me to receive Jesus. I’ll be damned if I was older than four. As a child, I always talked to God and God got out of all kinds of messes. When I was about seven or eight I told God that I felt pretty comfortable with him but I didn’t know who Jesus was. Around the age of 11 I heard Jesus talking to me around a campout fire and pretty much made a deal with him that if he let me do theater, I’d follow him. Two years later I got baptized and my mother started bringing me to Haskell’s Weds. Night study. I noticed that it spoke to me and that was probably where I learned how to use the Bible—as an opportunity to listen to God. After a break-up and what my HS teacher called me “hitting rock bottom” (I would later find out to be my first major fit of depression) I gave my life to Jesus again, this time no strings attached. That was on my seventeenth birthday, the day I decided to hate the world and find life in Jesus.

Then I went to college and my faith was tested, but it didn’t take me long to find out that God was a living creature and not someone that could just disappear if I decided He didn’t exist. I did decide that a few times, but it didn’t last long. It was as ridiculous as saying Erinn didn’t exist. I’ve known them both for about as long.

Then I got out of depression and had a lovely phase of “no condemnation” that some might call my Zooropa days… Ha, you know, “the greater the fall the greater the grace.” I joke about that, but it actually happened. I’m probably still in that phase but honestly, I know it is necessary and that God is in on it with me. Because of it, I have been able to be more vibrant about the gospel, fall in love (not in a romantic sense) with tons more people then when I was trying to be a careful Christian, and be all together more alive. So, the current phase of my faith is God showing me how to actually live it… you know, Living Hope type stuff. Eternity starts today, type stuff. This is the best phase yet. I have learned how to ward off depression with solid, life-giving truths. I still have a lot to learn, but the best thing about learning to follow Jesus is that there are no deadlines.


5. How have you changed during your travels?

Each travel experience has been it’s own beast and changed me in different ways. I’ve only had three major experiences. Here they are:

a) Traveling around the country basically taught me that I am a human. It’s the kind of stuff I’ve heard most learn after being married for a year or two—all of our own annoying qualities. If you sit in the car with someone (who is not involved with you, romantically) for two months and only spend about 6 hours away from them the entire time, you get the crash course self-horror… and you don’t get the make-up sex to help you deal with it. Ha, I mean, the romantic euphoria.

b) Going to South Africa felt like a major failure. I learned that the world is full of terrible people and most of them are Anglos. You’d think that 13 years in Detroit Public Schools would have taught me that, but visiting Post-Apartheid South Africa was like the icing on that white-guilt cake. That said, I look back at South Africa as being the most beautiful country in the world—the astounding landscape, the misery, and the beauty that has come out of the misery. I’d go back there in a heartbeat. Plus, not a week goes by when I don't think of the wonderful friends I made there.

c) Moving to Thailand has given me a lot of confidence; I have better sense that God is leading me. I feel that everything in my life was necessary so that I might have ended up here … it’s a really solid feeling—all the bad things that led up to me wanting to leave the states, like that horrible van with no heat in the winter, being in debt when it was time to pay taxes, getting bombed with huge medical bills for a misdiagnosed eye--all of that bullshit has just paved my way for this fabulous experience. On the material end of things... From Thailand I've learned so much about globalization, about asian culture, about how to tolerate chili peppers (and how once you start eating them you must apply them to your food, lest you eat a tasteless meal...)

Overall, I've learned how to travel. It's a skill, ya know. You only learn it by doing it. Like Tai Chi.

Kid's Cartoons - Dave Chappelle

something Ben might call hiLARious

Barack Obama

Okay, so most of you know that I have adopted a new form of entertainment: Keeping track of Obama. His words of uniting the American government has helped ease my cynicism that our government is just two sides trying to win some terrible game. I have been informed of a critique that "for all his talk, he comes down liberal on every issue." Though it took me a little while to work through that, I have come to terms with it: Of course he comes down liberal on every issue. The man is a liberal. But that is not his point. He's not asking the American liberals to be more conservative or conservatives to be more liberal; he's asking us to listen to each other, even though we are conservative or liberal.

Okay, so after reasoning that out, I asked myself, "Yeah, but is the man listening to the other side or is he only saying that he's listening?"

I put the question aside and then got my answer in this article:

No Music to Their Ears
By: David Yepsen February 13, 2007 07:58 AM EST
U.S. Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., smiles with his wife Michelle at a rally on the University of Illinois-Chicago campus. (AP Photo/Charles Rex Arbogast)
url:

Barack Obama is a different sort of presidential candidate.
Yes, we all know he's the first African American with a realistic chance of winning the presidency. But he is also downsizing the pandering.
In appearances, he often tells Democrats things many don't care to hear.
For example, at his rally in Cedar Rapids on Saturday, he was asked about cutting military spending to free up money for other priorities, something liberal Democrats have been after for decades.
But Obama said "in terms of the overall military budget, I will tell you that we are going to have problems making immediate cuts, because one of the untold stories about this war is the way it has depleted our military.
"The fact of the matter is, we are going to need more troops than we currently possess" because of the pressures Iraq has placed on the National Guard and reserves, he said. "We're going to have to build up the size of our active regular forces. We're going to have to replace the equipment that has been depleted ... There's probably going to be a bump in initial military spending just to get back to where we were."
After that, the United States can reprioritize some military spending. "If we do those things, potentially, over time, we can see some savings. That doesn't mean, by the way, that we're still not going to have to have some of the conventional military forces that we need to protect ourselves from more potential attacks or threats." He cited North Korea as an example.
Obama got virtually no applause to that answer.
Later, he took a question from a teacher about the No Child Left Behind Act. That law is hugely unpopular with many teachers and their unions. Bashing it is popular with Democratic politicians. (No applause line is left behind in attacking it.)
Obama didn't disappoint: "No Child Left Behind left the money behind," he pandered.
But then he talked about "the things that were good about No Child Left Behind," like high standards for students because American children will have to compete for jobs with students from countries with more rigorous schools. The act also identified groups of students who need extra help in school, such as minority students, he said.
Obama told one teacher questioner that teachers deserve more pay to attract people to the profession, a line that drew whoops and applause. "I have to say though, there's got to be a bargain with teachers in terms of more pay," he said.
"They've got to get more pay, but there's also going to be more accountability." (There was audible rustling and mumbling in the seats at that.)
"Now, the accountability can't just be based on standardized test performance only, but that has to be part of the mix, and there has to be assessment tools that are developed in concert with teachers," Obama said.
"If teachers are underperforming, we're going to get them the help they need. But we're not going to pretend they are not underperforming, and that is something we're going to have to make happen," the senator said.
Such candor is refreshing, and it may contribute to his initial success in attracting voters looking for something new in a politician. He said in an interview later it's one way to end voter cynicism about politicians.
But can a candidate win if he tells Democratic constituency groups things they don't want to hear?
"We'll find out," he said. "If you go down that path of trying to tell everybody exactly what they want to hear, you can't actually build a consensus to govern. And I'm not just trying to win an office. I'm trying to figure out: Can we build a consensus to actually solve these problems that are complicated? I've got to make sure that I'm taking the voters through a process whereby when they vote for me, they know, 'Here's how he thinks.' "

David Yepsen is a columnist for the Des Moines Register. The Register and politico.com are sharing content for the 2008 presidential campaign.
---

Some final words about this and then I'll give it a rest. I have really been blessed by his mentioning that teachers will be held accountable. I am discovering that my politics are really based on the education system. I am not a one issue voter, but as some people are drawn to abortion politics and some others are drawn to the environment politics, I find that it's education stuff that really hits me the most. This is based on my upbringing, no doubt, and the anger instilled in me about DPS. I joke about how little funding we got at DSA, or how awful some of the teachers were, but seriously, Obama is the first person(I've noticed) to really hone that problem down into productive and reasonable ideas.

Tom Waits- Letterman interview 2002

another great combo

Latest song

I wrote this when I couldn't sleep the other night because of my backpain. It might go on the gospel album, if the others like it:

No title yet, but if I was held at gunpoint about it, I'd probably say it was called "You Are Alive."--it has a slow, traditionalish gospel tune.

If every moment is a renewed blessing
If every choice is a chance to progress
Then Lord, take this day, this very hour
Teach us to live out your righteousness

You are alive. Our hands are open wide
You are alive-- and faithfully dwelling inside
You are alive. Our hands our open wide
You are alive. You are alive.

We give you our plans. Our every idea
We think that we have as direction from you.
We give you our longings, our lacks and our fears.
All the lies that we cling to, we exchange them for truth.

And we believe-- our hands are open wide.
We believe-- you are faithfully dwelling inside
We believe-- our hands are open wide
We believe. We believe.

There is nothing we could do
To be worthy of this gift from you
Beautiful giver of life
You desire mercy, not sacrifice.

If every instant is a renewed blessing
If every choice is a chance to progress
Then Lord take this day, this very hour
Teach us to live out your righteousness.

We believe. Our hands are open wide.
We believe you are faithfully dwelling inside.
You are alive. Our hands are open wide.
You are alive. You are alive.

Most shocking statement I've made in a long time:

"I spent a week with a Mormon family.

It was the closest to God I've ever been."

Pandora Observation II

Ani DiFranco: No, thank you.

Talib Kweli: More, please.

This Pandora.com thing has really blessed me at work. But today I "discovered" for myself a genre that I hadn't realized I loved so much. I put in Lauryn Hill. As a result, they made a radio station of acoustic guitar R&B. THAT, I decided, is where music is at. It's what the Blues has become.

One of the delights of living in the days of miracle and wonder, is that we have exposure to so much music and we will never get to the bottom of it. Good music (bad, too, but let's focus on the good, right?) is being put out every day. Yep. Another reason to smile.

Johnny Cash on Sesame Street

Vocabulary List

shit
Thai people use the word "shit" alot. It sounds like "sheet" when they say it. I am starting to believe they don't know that it's a curseword. It has made me start to wonder, myself, if it is a curseword.

curseword
I just invented (perhaps) this word, "curseword." I think before this post, it was two words?

invention
The definition of "invention" should be explored. If someone has a thought that came to them on their own, is it still original? Or does the rank of "original" thought go only to those thoughts the first time they were thought of, by the first person who thought of them?

farang
Thai for foreigner. Perhaps it is only Thai for "westerner." It was invented when the french came to Thailand, then Siam, during the Ayutthaya period. Thai people couldn't say "French." They said "Farang" instead. Farang is not just Thai for "westerner," it is Thai for everything westerners do and everything westerners are about. Blue eyes are farang eyes. Low tolerance for prik (chili peppers) is farang. I have to investigate this, but farang might never be Asian. In the world there are Indians, Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Malaysians, Thais, and Farang.

emergence
That's the name for a religious movement. The ideas behind this movement (perhaps outlined in The Velvet Elvis?) came to me one year and a half before I read that book. Reading it made me think "Oh good, I'm not the only one who thinks about this stuff this way." I read some stuff the other day on this webpage that is called something like "apprised truth" or something? Something apprised. Anyway, the guy is vehement against the ideas outlined in this emergence thing. But reading through that webpage made me appreciate the ideas outlined in the book even more. If I had to choose between seeing beauty in the world in all things or living at the dead end in a tunnel of exclusiveness, it doesn't seem like I've been given much of a choice.

pridesource
It's the webage for the gay pride magazine from Detroit (or probably really from Ferndale) and I have been reading it quite regularly since I've arrived in Bangkok for Donald Calamia's theater reviews. From it, I learned about a tremendously interesting show going down at the UDM theater... Starring Arthur Beer and James Bowen. I wish I was in the D to go see it: The Sweet Trials Apparently, it's about a trial that happened in 1920's Detroit that dealt with a black man and his family who moved into a white neighborhood.

ex-patriotism
It's a heart condition.

John 4:1-47 "Jesus and the Bad Samaritan"

1-3) Jesus has celebrity status--people are talking about Him. He’s ticking Pharisees off because a carpenter is drawing more attention then their theological degrees and qualifications. Jesus is constantly on the run. Jesus is probably pretty tired.

4) “He had to go through Samaria.”
There’s enough in those six words to keep me fed for a long time. Because, actually, Jesus did not have to, geographically, go through Samaria. (According to a British theological scholar named Arthur Pink who died in 1952 haha) Jesus could have crossed the river and went through another land (Perea). So He took a route that was longer and out of his way. But still, John writes, “Jesus had to go through Samaria.” This shows us something about God’s ways… he doesn’t take the easy route always. I’d say he seldom takes the easy route. Jesus does a lot of things that seem unnecessary but in His eyes they are required. There is no other way.
We also know from those words that Jesus doesn’t act in response to what the Pharisees have outlined for him. Sometimes it seems like Jesus is a fugitive, but Jesus never bowed down to them—held them in reverence in the way that he would let them determine, through fear, what to do next. Jesus had one god, Jehovah…
To sum up: Jesus, hot and tired, goes out of his way… he must be up to something.

6) “It was the sixth hour.” Noon. Jesus walked an extra stretch in this hot land and the sun is high. Our Jesus could be exhausted, too. We think we have busy schedules. Imagine what was on Jesus’ plate.

7) Taboo. Jews weren’t really supposed to speak with Samaritans-- especially not Samaritan women.

(8-9) Also, his disciples had left him so he was alone with the Samaritan woman. What a trouble maker. The woman is quick to point that out to him. “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan and I’m a woman…” Our Lord doesn’t let that stop him. He knows this woman needs His life… Jesus never lets cultural differences stop him from doing what he’s got to do.

10) “If you knew…” Jesus has got something so incredibly wonderful for this woman. Something that cultural boundaries, the walls this world his put up around this woman (and as we will see, she put up for herself) cannot stop from reaching her.

11) Jesus mentioned living water and this woman still has her mind on the boundaries of this world. “You don’t have anything to get water with.” She’s thinking about one part hydrogen, two parts oxygen.

14-15) Jesus is obviously (to us) speaking in spiritual terms but he woman is still interpreting this as H2O water—she’s thinking he is talking literally (and why should she not?)… She’s seeing this water as something convenient. But there is more to it than just that. Maybe she thinks Jesus is going to whip out a magic potion from the fountain of youth.

16-18) Jesus then broadens the discussion to another level. “Go call your husband.” She says “I have no husband.” This might actually be true. She might not, technically at this point have a husband. But Jesus isn’t looking at her with the “technical eyes of this world.” He sees her for what she truly is (if he were looking through the world’s lens, he probably wouldn’t be talking to her, as we already established.)

So, she says she’s got no husband and then Jesus tells her something about herself that she may or may not know: “You’ve had five husbands.” Whoops. So then this interaction is really going into the dangerous waters… Not only is she 1) a Samaritan (taboo) 2) a woman (bigger taboo) but now we know she’s a slut (run, Jesus, run!!). So Jesus went out of his way for a woman that was, culturally (to a Jew) at the bottom. This is our Jesus. “While we were still sinners, He died for us.” That statement permeates all that he does.

19-22) Okay, so now the woman is starting to understand that there’s more to this conversation than H2O… She first recognizes Jesus as a Prophet. He is clearly from God. But she’s still blind in the area of what Jesus is truly offering here. She brings up “Well… you worship over there and we worship over here…” Jesus says he’s from God and the first thing she thinks of is “church.” This happens to us, right, when we share the gospel? At least in America. Someone finds out I’m a Christian and they say, “Oh, are you catholic or protestant?”
Jesus is not offering the woman a nice church. He’s offering her something that goes way beyond “church.”

23) He tells her, “The time is coming and has now come when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kinds of worshippers the Father seeks. God is the spirit, and his worshippers must worship in spirit and in truth.”
This is a message for a Samaritan prostitute. To God, there is no Jew or Gentile anymore… that is huge. It’s as huge today as it was then. God doesn’t care what our background. I look around our “congregation”—a Kenyan fellowshipping with little white American women, a couple Indians, a Philippino, and a bunch of Thais. We can do that because we worship in God’s spirit. If we get away from God’s spirit, if we start to look at our “church” circumstances, we are lost. We are as lost as this Samaritan prostitute, who says, “well… you all worship over there and we worship over here…”

24-26) Praise God, because this woman starts to get it: “I heard there’s supposed to be a Messiah coming… He’s going to explain all of that to us.” Jesus says, “You’re looking at him.”
The world is waiting for a Messiah and this woman, this bad Samaritan woman is looking straight at him. The impact of that moment was incredible… especially when we see what follows

27) The disciples come back and boy are they confused… “Why are you talking to her!?” Are you trying to get us creamed? They are exhausted and tired too… and Jesus just made them go out of their way so he could talk to a bad Samaritan? When the Lord is leading our lives, we can expect moments like these. “What, you called me all the way to Thailand so I could have one three minute conversation with a Burmese girl at a bus stop and now you’re sending me home?!” Jesus works like this. Be prepared.

28-29) Jesus works this way because he sees the bigger picture. We see one Burmese girl but he sees nations of people through the seeds we plant. He tries to get his disciples to think that way. We see it in this account—the woman leaves her water jar behind and goes and tells people about Jesus. “Could this be the Christ? Check him out!” And now the Samaritans are all running to Jesus wanting to see who he is. Praise to God, because he does things that seem like a waste of time but he never wastes our time. God doesn’t work according to what the world thinks is practical or timely. We do, and that’s usually good… but God doesn’t. If God is going to be the one who leads us, we know that he will through us for some loops of confusion, but he’s He knows what He’s doing… We can trust him, like May trusts Him. “I can’t WAIT to see what God will do!” I pray I will never forget those words from her.

39) “Many Samaritans believed because of this woman’s testimony.” John acknowledges that in his gospel, that Jesus had the best plan. And that he chose a bad Samaritan woman to reach multitudes of people. And Jesus loves these people… They ask him to stick around and he does. He takes his time with them.

42)The real miracle of this story: The people hear about Jesus and then go see for themselves that His is, truly, “The savior of the world.”