You might not have heard yet. I don't work for InterVarsity anymore- I'm headed to law school and working at Starbucks in the meantime. The party line is an amicable split. The truth is something different.
In early April, I received the manual for the track I was to teach at Chapter Focus week this year. "Truth that Works, Truth that Heals." It fashions itself a bit philosophical, as an apologetics and "worldview" track. Included in that is, of course, one of the biggest questions facing Christian college students today: "What about gay people?"
It shouldn't surprise you (it didn't surprise me) that the manual takes a pretty traditional view of scripture and affirms that all sexual relationships between people sharing matching genitalia are always, without exception, objective sin.
I used to believe that too, but I've grown a lot since then because I've been around earnest Christians trying to do what God wants, who've found a place in God's heart for openly gay and lesbian expressions of love, and they've not experienced, from God, a shunning of their souls. At first this sent me reeling, but then it kept happening. In response I've decided that I'd rather love those around me without exception, especially when it seems there's certainly a multitude of ways to interpret scripture the Truth that Works, Truth that Heals manual wouldn't consider for a moment. I'd rather love and be wrong when I get to heaven, then be wrong for not loving. That's the land on which I've found myself standing lately.
So I raised a few concerns. I couldn't find it in myself to tacitly approve of the track's content. I sent a few e-mails and vaguely said that I couldn't affirm that position. My track got changed and I thought I'd get to ride off into the sunset with InterVarsity, toward Law School.
God is much more sovereign though, and he'd been preparing me. A bit over a week ago, I wrote a very honest monthly report, wherein I made it clear that my will and ability to do what InterVarsity requires of their staff didn't really exist anymore. I'd been faking it for a long time, and I did what I could to clarify that.
Like I said, God is sovereign.
The response I received, to my monthly report, was short, to say the least. It was terse, really, and ultimately graceless. "We're requiring you, despite all the concerns you raised about your personal well-being, to fulfill the job description til July" I thought I'd have to fight that, I thought it'd get messy.
But the response continued: (all of this is paraphrase)
"What's more important is that we get a few things clear about your stance on homosexuality. InterVarsity's official stance is:
1. Sexual attraction to a member of the same sex is a disorder and outside God's will
2. A person can't help his or her attractions, so suffering from same-sex attraction does not preclude an individual from InterVarsity chapters or staffwork.
3. Acting on a same-sex attraction is outside of God's plan and is therefore, under all circumstances, sin.
Can you say in good faith that you have a real stance on those matters? If not, we can delay our monthly supervisory meeting til next week so you can pray about it."
My reply was short. "Let's meet tomorrow" I said.
I didn't get much sleep that night. I'd had too much caffeine, certainly. But beyond that, I knew, from something deep inside, that I'd lost InterVarsity in much the same way Proust's narrator lost Albertine (figuring out what that simile means is worth the work, trust me). The next morning, I was in a bit of a haze- I'd got about 4 hours of sleep but could find no more. 7-11 a.m. were some of the longest hours in my life.
But the time came, and my monthly supervisory appointment happened. We ate first, as we always do, but that was foolish. It was just a bunch of platitudes, though we both knew what was coming. And it did.
The question from the e-mail was asked again. "Do you have a set position on the matter?" And I answered in the affirmative. I answered that it differed vastly from InterVarsity. Before that time I didn't know InterVarsity had an official stance on the matter. Turns it, it isn't completely public yet and only present in a document only certain staff can access. I got a copy though, to inform my decision. My decision existed long before, of course.
Over and over I was asked if I'd be willing to support InterVarsity's position in InterVarsity contexts. I can't, because that would be disingenuous and essentially hateful to people that I love and respect. It was for that lack of willingness that my appointment with InterVarsity was officially terminated come the first of May.
"It's unfortunate it had to end like this" my supervisor said. She is correct, but only in the definitions of the words, not in what she meant by them. Because it is unfortunate. Not that I had to be fired for being obstinate, as I'm sure she meant, but in that InterVarsity had to come down so strongly on a matter apart from the purity of the Gospel. The truth is, Christians- full fledged followers of Jesus- exist, who read the Bible differently on any number of matters from one another- and this is one of them. In the exchange, a great rift took place. When I joined InterVarsity and joined staff, part of my decision was based on how ecumenical it seemed- allowing all sorts of viewpoints and fostering constructive discussion; proclaiming the Gospel as a uniting force. But a sharp turn's been taken. Now, apparently, at least on this matter, there's only one way to look at it in order to be accepted by InterVarsity, no matter the fervor of your faith or the sincerity of your love for Christ. It's a sharp turn to a world where exclusivity and rightness are valued more than love and inclusion, and a willingness to journey alongside one another toward Christ.
I was fired for an ideal on which I wouldn't relent. Short of proclaiming a false gospel, I didn't think that was possible in InterVarsity. But then again, it seems InterVarsity today isn't what I thought it was either. I lament that fact.
InterVarsity, right now, faces stiff tests for campus access. Chapters around the country have lost their campus recognition over discrimination in leadership selection. I always thought that concept was crazy and an overstepping of bounds by campus administrators, asking a Christian group to willfully give leadership to non-Christians. At this point, though, even if all of the cases are precisely that, I can't believe InterVarsity is indeed non-discriminatory. With the publication of the Theological Response to the LGBT Community, InterVarsity organizationally declares that an interpretation of the Bible, apart from their own, is grounds for firing of staff and preclusion of members.
So much for inductive method....
-Zack
"afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength"
-Nas
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
A Name worth having
Thanks to LeBron's aided autobiography Shooting Stars, I thought he was staying in Cleveland. It's a dully written account of his AAU and high school teams and their eventual rise to a national championship, but it masquerades, in part, as a love letter to Akron. More than the comradery and friendship spurring them onto athletic heights, it's a book about the motivation to "Put Akron on the map." Cleveland isn't very far from Akron, I reasoned, and that meant he'd do all he could to stay in northeast Ohio. Obviously, that wasn't what happened because LeBron draws a line between Akron and Cleveland. As I'm finding, most Cleveland natives don't do that, but I've never heard an Akron native say they're from Cleveland. It's a similar region, sure, but I'm not from Toledo and Wooster is a far cry from Cleveland, so I know what it means, to not buy into a melting pot mentality where the biggest city in a certain region takes precedence. Looking back, the more accurate argument is that LeBron wanted to put Akron on the map precisely because it wasn't Cleveland. Without Cleveland, this part of the world would be the Akron area. They've got their own airport, they've got their own state university, they've got their own courthouse, and they're in a different county. Akron isn't Cleveland, and it was probably the fact that Cleveland is on all maps and Akron isn't that meant the most to LeBron.
It's not LeBron's motives that I want to write about- it's his sentiment and how it is manifest in Cleveland, toward Cleveland.
Nationally, isn't known for much but failure. There are valid reasons for that and I'll always argue that it's tragically unfair. The symphony, the culinary scene, the museums, the arts scene-- they're strides ahead many major U.S. cities, but the national reputation isn't there. Likewise, it's impossible to talk about Cleveland without mentioning the sports- though 3 major sports teams are here, to look at ESPN most of the time, you wouldn't know it.
When you're in Cleveland, it's easy to get lost in the great things going on in the city (or frightened by the bad). Taking a step back though, there's not a lot of publicity outside of Cleveland that would suggest its at all a place worthy of visiting, living, or investing.
My opinion is skewed by my biased intake of mostly sports media (and NPR), but across the board, Cleveland can't even get respect from Forbes magazine as a tortured sports city. It's easy to look at things nationally and view Cleveland as, at best, a footnote. Even statewide, Cleveland feels a bit separate from Ohio. We spent last weekend in Columbus and, though it's the biggest city in the state, it's got a more midwestern, less east-coast urban feel than Cleveland. In many ways, Columbus Ohio resembles Madison Wisconsin more than Cleveland. Perhaps outside of Steubenville, Youngstown, and Akron, there isn't a place that feels remotely like Cleveland in the rest of Ohio. Every place is unique, of course, so you can't take that too far, but it's, as far as I can tell, its own sort of reality. I've got my theories (perhaps the predominant of which being cultural background- Cleveland hasn't had nearly as much German American influence as essentially the rest of the state, and that changes things in surprisingly evident ways), but it all boils down to a crumbling bridge. Cleveland doesn't fit into Ohio terribly well because it's on the cusp (though less and less seemingly all the time) of being a major U.S. metropolitan area, but gets what at least appears to be none of the respect and perks that should go with that.
Statistics could derail all of this, but back to LeBron. He wanted to put Akron on the map, but Cleveland's been on the map, for a long time. Everyone here knows that. Anyone who spends a week eating out in this city realizes that there's a better restaurant scene going on here than most places otherwise. But how would you ever know that, looking at the rest of the country? The end result, as I often see it, is a mixture of ambivalence and anger. I've talked to and heard a lot of angry people, desiring a form of respect for Cleveland that just isn't there. I've also heard and talked to a lot of people that don't care and just want to live life whatever that means, regardless of the city's reputation.
I think the proper path to pursue lies somewhere between those options. It's important for the long-suffering economy of Cleveland that real respect actually come our way. We can't just be poor old Cleveland, or bad old Cleveland, or liberal old Cleveland if we're going to get what we need at the State level. Likewise, we can't just be written off on the national level if the synergy needed to see economic renewal emerge is ever going to happen. Companies aren't going to come to a place perceived as more dying than reviving- it's really that simple.
Ultimatley, the issue might lie most in Cleveland's eclecticism. If you're not New York, it seems you've got to be exceptional at one thing in order for the collective American psyche to accept and affirm what's going on. Outside of the Cleveland Clinic (which most people don't care about til they need it, unfortunately), Cleveland doesn't really lead in anything. We can argue for top 5 status in a lot of things, but there's no niche (outside of corned beef, perhaps, but I care more about that than the average person, I'll admit) that makes Clevealnd a destination for a certain experience. Unfortunately, the Rock Hall just doesn't cut it (not, especially, when you can experience the most important aspect of the inductees via Pandora from anywhere on Earth. Celebrating mostly dead recording artists isn't exactly a fruitful industry, in the digital age).
It would be wonderful, were it possible, for Cleveland to grab something and become a true leader. The better option though, would be an expansion on the part of the collective American psyche, to value true diversity and eclectic experience. That wouldn't just help Cleveland- honestly, it'd help the whole midwest, wherein cities just aren't coastal, by definition, and thus, don't boast singularly defining experiences. I don't know how to do that, but it's got to start, step by step, with inviting people to experience Cleveland and tell others about it- and the reputation has to come back.
That's why it hurt so much when LeBron left. We were there, we were "back." Cleveland mattered and it wasn't supposed to be too long before that ended in a championship-- finally being able to say we're the best at something.
LeBron wasn't going to single-handedly renew this city, and a championship, by any of the three teams won't either. Nevertheless, something has to happen, at some point, to rebuild, to some degree, Cleveland's reputation. That's why we're a sports-obsessed city, I think. Every season is a chance, in a city where few chances ever come by.
-Zack
"we had our mind's set, all things no, all things no.
You had to find it, all things go, all things go"
-Sufjan Stevens
It's not LeBron's motives that I want to write about- it's his sentiment and how it is manifest in Cleveland, toward Cleveland.
Nationally, isn't known for much but failure. There are valid reasons for that and I'll always argue that it's tragically unfair. The symphony, the culinary scene, the museums, the arts scene-- they're strides ahead many major U.S. cities, but the national reputation isn't there. Likewise, it's impossible to talk about Cleveland without mentioning the sports- though 3 major sports teams are here, to look at ESPN most of the time, you wouldn't know it.
When you're in Cleveland, it's easy to get lost in the great things going on in the city (or frightened by the bad). Taking a step back though, there's not a lot of publicity outside of Cleveland that would suggest its at all a place worthy of visiting, living, or investing.
My opinion is skewed by my biased intake of mostly sports media (and NPR), but across the board, Cleveland can't even get respect from Forbes magazine as a tortured sports city. It's easy to look at things nationally and view Cleveland as, at best, a footnote. Even statewide, Cleveland feels a bit separate from Ohio. We spent last weekend in Columbus and, though it's the biggest city in the state, it's got a more midwestern, less east-coast urban feel than Cleveland. In many ways, Columbus Ohio resembles Madison Wisconsin more than Cleveland. Perhaps outside of Steubenville, Youngstown, and Akron, there isn't a place that feels remotely like Cleveland in the rest of Ohio. Every place is unique, of course, so you can't take that too far, but it's, as far as I can tell, its own sort of reality. I've got my theories (perhaps the predominant of which being cultural background- Cleveland hasn't had nearly as much German American influence as essentially the rest of the state, and that changes things in surprisingly evident ways), but it all boils down to a crumbling bridge. Cleveland doesn't fit into Ohio terribly well because it's on the cusp (though less and less seemingly all the time) of being a major U.S. metropolitan area, but gets what at least appears to be none of the respect and perks that should go with that.
Statistics could derail all of this, but back to LeBron. He wanted to put Akron on the map, but Cleveland's been on the map, for a long time. Everyone here knows that. Anyone who spends a week eating out in this city realizes that there's a better restaurant scene going on here than most places otherwise. But how would you ever know that, looking at the rest of the country? The end result, as I often see it, is a mixture of ambivalence and anger. I've talked to and heard a lot of angry people, desiring a form of respect for Cleveland that just isn't there. I've also heard and talked to a lot of people that don't care and just want to live life whatever that means, regardless of the city's reputation.
I think the proper path to pursue lies somewhere between those options. It's important for the long-suffering economy of Cleveland that real respect actually come our way. We can't just be poor old Cleveland, or bad old Cleveland, or liberal old Cleveland if we're going to get what we need at the State level. Likewise, we can't just be written off on the national level if the synergy needed to see economic renewal emerge is ever going to happen. Companies aren't going to come to a place perceived as more dying than reviving- it's really that simple.
Ultimatley, the issue might lie most in Cleveland's eclecticism. If you're not New York, it seems you've got to be exceptional at one thing in order for the collective American psyche to accept and affirm what's going on. Outside of the Cleveland Clinic (which most people don't care about til they need it, unfortunately), Cleveland doesn't really lead in anything. We can argue for top 5 status in a lot of things, but there's no niche (outside of corned beef, perhaps, but I care more about that than the average person, I'll admit) that makes Clevealnd a destination for a certain experience. Unfortunately, the Rock Hall just doesn't cut it (not, especially, when you can experience the most important aspect of the inductees via Pandora from anywhere on Earth. Celebrating mostly dead recording artists isn't exactly a fruitful industry, in the digital age).
It would be wonderful, were it possible, for Cleveland to grab something and become a true leader. The better option though, would be an expansion on the part of the collective American psyche, to value true diversity and eclectic experience. That wouldn't just help Cleveland- honestly, it'd help the whole midwest, wherein cities just aren't coastal, by definition, and thus, don't boast singularly defining experiences. I don't know how to do that, but it's got to start, step by step, with inviting people to experience Cleveland and tell others about it- and the reputation has to come back.
That's why it hurt so much when LeBron left. We were there, we were "back." Cleveland mattered and it wasn't supposed to be too long before that ended in a championship-- finally being able to say we're the best at something.
LeBron wasn't going to single-handedly renew this city, and a championship, by any of the three teams won't either. Nevertheless, something has to happen, at some point, to rebuild, to some degree, Cleveland's reputation. That's why we're a sports-obsessed city, I think. Every season is a chance, in a city where few chances ever come by.
-Zack
"we had our mind's set, all things no, all things no.
You had to find it, all things go, all things go"
-Sufjan Stevens
Monday, February 20, 2012
A Different Throne
I should preface this post by saying it's completely uninformed, all things consider.
As you might have seen, if you've read this regularly for the past month, I dubbed Stephen King my personal "author of 2011." As honors go, that doesn't really mean much to anyone but me. Even so, there's a better chance for a "repeat" next year than there's ever been since I've started making those "personal best of the year" lists, 6 years ago. There have been a few repeat musical artists (mostly because I used to be obsessed with synth pop, when there are less than 10 really great, consistently creating, national synth pop groups)
So far, I've only read the first five "Dark Tower" books by Stephen King. As a writer, he's passable but nothing too special. He reminds me of a great American restaurant...even if it's the best American restaurant, it's still American, and for my taste, that means it's 4th best in the world, at best (because I'll always prefer Chinese, Italian, and French food). It's not King's nationality that makes him "nothing too special" (though I'd be dishonest to say that it plays something of a role in how I consider novels). It's his hearkening to Hemmingway in his simplicity without the "every-sentence-is-cathartic" sensation. He just tells a story. In a way, he's like the American J.K. Rowling for adults (though a better writer by leaps and bounds). He tells a great story, and that's his best quality. It's the story and the creativity that erases one's concern over the ever-present inelegantly simple sentences.
As an artist, I respect his ability to write the stories he writes- horror or not (and I'd argue he's more a Hitchcockian thriller writer than a purely fear-driven writer). Taking King's art as an expression of his inner being sheds light on a genius who seems to inhabit, mentally, a completely different world. King's persona-as-writer is enthralling to me- I envision him constantly holed up in a cabin by a lake in Maine, grinding out sense-of-place masterpieces on the daily. To think that an artist could stay in Maine (the place he loves) and attain his heights of accomplishment gives Cleveland artists hope, doesn't it?
As a writer, he's no Philip Pullman. Though the two have little to do with each other it's pertinent because Pullman constantly refuses to call himself a "Writer." "I tell stories" he says "When you think of yourself as anything but a storyteller, you begin to lose focus." And yet, Pullman is one of the greatest technical writers living today. He tells passable stories, but does so with structure, diction, and elegance unparalleled by most. As a writer, I'd rather read Philip Pullman's shopping list than Stephen King's non-fiction (seriously...read some of his book reviews- if it wasn't "Stephen King," I doubt they'd be published). And yet- His Dark Materials is brilliant, but did not keep me reading into the late hours (figuratively- I read primarily in the morning) nearly as often as The Dark Tower has over the past year or so.
It is a tyranny for me to write this. I'm as much a literary purist as you'll ever find. But there's something appealing, even so, about a story unfettered by human artistic artifice. For me, it's almost as if King's failings as a sentence-builder make the story that much more interesting because I'm not distracted from the plot by the beauty of the writing. It's easier for me to overlook the mundane- as it ought to be, in most things.
As time passes, it's true- I'll always consider His Dark Materials, Ulysses, and Wuthering Heights greater works of art, more ultimately meaningful to my life as a writer and student of language. But the works of the likes of King and Rowling have worth as well- as interesting, riveting stories- inaccurately told, to be sure, but full of an enjoyment I'd miss if the same story were told by a better writer.
And yet- that's not possible. Sometimes, I beat myself up for not being able to come up with ideas as creative as King or Rowling. But it's not my place to write those stories. Faulkner couldn't write The House on Pooh Corner. Though I don't have an unending tolerance for less-than-perfect writing in the face of a great story (sorry Twilight, you just don't make the cut), I'm glad to be able to say that finally, I can enjoy a story for a story despite how it's told. I'll always be more Stephen Dedalus than Leopold Bloom; an aesthete incapable of seeing sentences as nothing but functions toward pleasures- but so was James Joyce, and that's company I don't mind.
-Zack
"So come to me, come to me now, lay your arms around me"
-The Decemberists
As you might have seen, if you've read this regularly for the past month, I dubbed Stephen King my personal "author of 2011." As honors go, that doesn't really mean much to anyone but me. Even so, there's a better chance for a "repeat" next year than there's ever been since I've started making those "personal best of the year" lists, 6 years ago. There have been a few repeat musical artists (mostly because I used to be obsessed with synth pop, when there are less than 10 really great, consistently creating, national synth pop groups)
So far, I've only read the first five "Dark Tower" books by Stephen King. As a writer, he's passable but nothing too special. He reminds me of a great American restaurant...even if it's the best American restaurant, it's still American, and for my taste, that means it's 4th best in the world, at best (because I'll always prefer Chinese, Italian, and French food). It's not King's nationality that makes him "nothing too special" (though I'd be dishonest to say that it plays something of a role in how I consider novels). It's his hearkening to Hemmingway in his simplicity without the "every-sentence-is-cathartic" sensation. He just tells a story. In a way, he's like the American J.K. Rowling for adults (though a better writer by leaps and bounds). He tells a great story, and that's his best quality. It's the story and the creativity that erases one's concern over the ever-present inelegantly simple sentences.
As an artist, I respect his ability to write the stories he writes- horror or not (and I'd argue he's more a Hitchcockian thriller writer than a purely fear-driven writer). Taking King's art as an expression of his inner being sheds light on a genius who seems to inhabit, mentally, a completely different world. King's persona-as-writer is enthralling to me- I envision him constantly holed up in a cabin by a lake in Maine, grinding out sense-of-place masterpieces on the daily. To think that an artist could stay in Maine (the place he loves) and attain his heights of accomplishment gives Cleveland artists hope, doesn't it?
As a writer, he's no Philip Pullman. Though the two have little to do with each other it's pertinent because Pullman constantly refuses to call himself a "Writer." "I tell stories" he says "When you think of yourself as anything but a storyteller, you begin to lose focus." And yet, Pullman is one of the greatest technical writers living today. He tells passable stories, but does so with structure, diction, and elegance unparalleled by most. As a writer, I'd rather read Philip Pullman's shopping list than Stephen King's non-fiction (seriously...read some of his book reviews- if it wasn't "Stephen King," I doubt they'd be published). And yet- His Dark Materials is brilliant, but did not keep me reading into the late hours (figuratively- I read primarily in the morning) nearly as often as The Dark Tower has over the past year or so.
It is a tyranny for me to write this. I'm as much a literary purist as you'll ever find. But there's something appealing, even so, about a story unfettered by human artistic artifice. For me, it's almost as if King's failings as a sentence-builder make the story that much more interesting because I'm not distracted from the plot by the beauty of the writing. It's easier for me to overlook the mundane- as it ought to be, in most things.
As time passes, it's true- I'll always consider His Dark Materials, Ulysses, and Wuthering Heights greater works of art, more ultimately meaningful to my life as a writer and student of language. But the works of the likes of King and Rowling have worth as well- as interesting, riveting stories- inaccurately told, to be sure, but full of an enjoyment I'd miss if the same story were told by a better writer.
And yet- that's not possible. Sometimes, I beat myself up for not being able to come up with ideas as creative as King or Rowling. But it's not my place to write those stories. Faulkner couldn't write The House on Pooh Corner. Though I don't have an unending tolerance for less-than-perfect writing in the face of a great story (sorry Twilight, you just don't make the cut), I'm glad to be able to say that finally, I can enjoy a story for a story despite how it's told. I'll always be more Stephen Dedalus than Leopold Bloom; an aesthete incapable of seeing sentences as nothing but functions toward pleasures- but so was James Joyce, and that's company I don't mind.
-Zack
"So come to me, come to me now, lay your arms around me"
-The Decemberists
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
On every Corner
I may have found a new spot to work at night. I'm locked out of my house right now, because I left my keys in my other coat, after walking the dog. I was going to drive to Starbucks (an impressive Starbucks). That's where I normally end up, if I've got time and I've got to write. But today, as I said, I'm locked out of my house. So I walked. In Lakewood, where we live now, there's essentially a coffee house of some sort on every single corner. I ended up in what sounds like and is a hotbed of 21st century Hippy culture- the Root. It's terribly crowded in here. Because I'm reading Les Miserables right now, I'm reminded that this is the sort of place where the French Revolution started.
No one here is starting the French Revolution. I can only hope, in some way, I'll get to be a part of what I envision as something of a Cleveland revolution.
But we're here, in a nice, alternative, sort of town on the west side of Cleveland. Lakewood's the closest thing to a college town lacking a college as I've ever been. It feels more like a college town than most towns I've ever visited. But it's still Llakewood. It's still, at its core, a nice-ish sort of place.
I can't speak for anyone else in here anyway. At best, most people are just hanging out or doing homework. I like the vibe in this place, and the coffee's pretty good. If it's always this crowded, I don't think I'll ever really be able to work here. But I can hang out here- it's like George House North, but far more granola.
This afternoon, I was on the East side. I missed my exit going to a Bible study to which no one showed up. I needed gas, so I stopped at a Marathon on E. 55th. That's in the heart of Hough- very much one of Clevelands formerly organized and now de facto ghettos. In this part of town, there's a gas station on every corner. As such, I wasn't surprised when someone asked me, the moment I got out of my car, if I could help him get something to eat. I wanted to. I always want to. I'm a remarkable sucker for anyone asking for anything on the street. But I had to get going, so I told him I'd talk to him after I pumped my gas. He waited for me, didn't get too close. I didn't have much cash on me, but he let me get him a corned beef sandwich (in Cleveland, more places sell those than don't). As we waited, I talked to him a bit. His name is Bruce. He's in the homeless donut hole, so to speak. He is waiting to get his birth certificate so he can get his i.d. and move into a shelter. As he put it, he's living on the streets right now, just him and God.
I don't know if I could have done more. I don't know if he would have let me anyway. I hope and pray he found somewhere to sleep tonight, even while I noticed, myself stuck outside for a bit this evening, that it's getting colder by the minute in Cleveland tonight. I probably won't see him again. But I'll pray for him, as often as I remember, as often as I can.
I left Bruce, as he walked across the street, toward Burger King, for whatever reason, I don't know. I left knowing that I had no idea what could be done for him. I don't know anything about the process to get the birth certificate and the id. I can't do much to anything to help with that, and I don't have any strings I could pull. I'm glad he got a meal, but what else and how, will his needs be met? He's not even allowed into the shelter right now.
I missed my exit. No one came to Bible study. And yet, today, in a completely accidental, some would say coincidental sort of way, I think I was glad for what I experienced, for where God placed me, more than I've been at all since leaving Wooster. I'm probably given to hyperbole, I know I often overstate. But no matter what I've done in my IV staff career, or what I've yet to do, I know my calling is to Cleveland, to the homeless, to the disenfranchised, to those in the midst of a struggle tied to legal red tape. And that's why I have to go to law school. It doesn't take a law degree to buy someone a corned beef sandwich, but I've been thinking, all day, about how I would at least have had the opportunity to do something more for Bruce today, and could do more for people like him in the future, if I had more knowledge, more resources. I was more excited to talk to Bruce today, to buy him a corned beef sandwich, than I've ever been for coffee with even the most stellar student. InterVarsity does great work, but I'm so sure, right now, that the rest of my life has to be directly tied and devoted to whatever "the least of these" means in Cleveland. InterVarsity fights for justice and raises all sorts of awareness. But all of that only matters when it is actually spurring students, upon graduation, into fields that do the same. Art, law, business, medicine, all require the hope and love of Christ if we're actually going to see the world changed. I'm glad for InterVarsity staff. I'm hopeful more and more will come on. But I know it's not for me. It's not how I'm wired, not anymore at least.
We're all made differently. At Urbana '06, it was all about "the calling you have received." It was there that I decided I was going into law for the wrong reasons, and that's the starting point of the journey that took me onto staff. But, in its own way, that's the starting point that got me back to a law career. I couldn't admit that I was doing the right thing, had I never abandoned it then. Now, I know, deeper than almost all else, that I'm doing the wrong thing to do anything else. Bruce needs people to fight for him. Legally, I'm not even sure he exists right now. Even so, even farther than that, he's one of the realest people I've ever met in Cleveland.
I don't want to sound like there's a dichotomy between staff/law/anything else as right/wrong/anything. It's not that. But we are who we are because that's the person God made us to be. It's a great thing to be on InterVarsity staff and say yes to God, saying yes to the field of vocational ministry. It's a dangerous and foolish thing though, to say yes to vocational ministry and say no to God at the same time. I said yes to God last fall, fully and finally. Today, in the person of Bruce, God answered a resounding "Welcome to reality" right back.
Pray for Bruce. Pray for Cleveland.
-Zack
No one here is starting the French Revolution. I can only hope, in some way, I'll get to be a part of what I envision as something of a Cleveland revolution.
But we're here, in a nice, alternative, sort of town on the west side of Cleveland. Lakewood's the closest thing to a college town lacking a college as I've ever been. It feels more like a college town than most towns I've ever visited. But it's still Llakewood. It's still, at its core, a nice-ish sort of place.
I can't speak for anyone else in here anyway. At best, most people are just hanging out or doing homework. I like the vibe in this place, and the coffee's pretty good. If it's always this crowded, I don't think I'll ever really be able to work here. But I can hang out here- it's like George House North, but far more granola.
This afternoon, I was on the East side. I missed my exit going to a Bible study to which no one showed up. I needed gas, so I stopped at a Marathon on E. 55th. That's in the heart of Hough- very much one of Clevelands formerly organized and now de facto ghettos. In this part of town, there's a gas station on every corner. As such, I wasn't surprised when someone asked me, the moment I got out of my car, if I could help him get something to eat. I wanted to. I always want to. I'm a remarkable sucker for anyone asking for anything on the street. But I had to get going, so I told him I'd talk to him after I pumped my gas. He waited for me, didn't get too close. I didn't have much cash on me, but he let me get him a corned beef sandwich (in Cleveland, more places sell those than don't). As we waited, I talked to him a bit. His name is Bruce. He's in the homeless donut hole, so to speak. He is waiting to get his birth certificate so he can get his i.d. and move into a shelter. As he put it, he's living on the streets right now, just him and God.
I don't know if I could have done more. I don't know if he would have let me anyway. I hope and pray he found somewhere to sleep tonight, even while I noticed, myself stuck outside for a bit this evening, that it's getting colder by the minute in Cleveland tonight. I probably won't see him again. But I'll pray for him, as often as I remember, as often as I can.
I left Bruce, as he walked across the street, toward Burger King, for whatever reason, I don't know. I left knowing that I had no idea what could be done for him. I don't know anything about the process to get the birth certificate and the id. I can't do much to anything to help with that, and I don't have any strings I could pull. I'm glad he got a meal, but what else and how, will his needs be met? He's not even allowed into the shelter right now.
I missed my exit. No one came to Bible study. And yet, today, in a completely accidental, some would say coincidental sort of way, I think I was glad for what I experienced, for where God placed me, more than I've been at all since leaving Wooster. I'm probably given to hyperbole, I know I often overstate. But no matter what I've done in my IV staff career, or what I've yet to do, I know my calling is to Cleveland, to the homeless, to the disenfranchised, to those in the midst of a struggle tied to legal red tape. And that's why I have to go to law school. It doesn't take a law degree to buy someone a corned beef sandwich, but I've been thinking, all day, about how I would at least have had the opportunity to do something more for Bruce today, and could do more for people like him in the future, if I had more knowledge, more resources. I was more excited to talk to Bruce today, to buy him a corned beef sandwich, than I've ever been for coffee with even the most stellar student. InterVarsity does great work, but I'm so sure, right now, that the rest of my life has to be directly tied and devoted to whatever "the least of these" means in Cleveland. InterVarsity fights for justice and raises all sorts of awareness. But all of that only matters when it is actually spurring students, upon graduation, into fields that do the same. Art, law, business, medicine, all require the hope and love of Christ if we're actually going to see the world changed. I'm glad for InterVarsity staff. I'm hopeful more and more will come on. But I know it's not for me. It's not how I'm wired, not anymore at least.
We're all made differently. At Urbana '06, it was all about "the calling you have received." It was there that I decided I was going into law for the wrong reasons, and that's the starting point of the journey that took me onto staff. But, in its own way, that's the starting point that got me back to a law career. I couldn't admit that I was doing the right thing, had I never abandoned it then. Now, I know, deeper than almost all else, that I'm doing the wrong thing to do anything else. Bruce needs people to fight for him. Legally, I'm not even sure he exists right now. Even so, even farther than that, he's one of the realest people I've ever met in Cleveland.
I don't want to sound like there's a dichotomy between staff/law/anything else as right/wrong/anything. It's not that. But we are who we are because that's the person God made us to be. It's a great thing to be on InterVarsity staff and say yes to God, saying yes to the field of vocational ministry. It's a dangerous and foolish thing though, to say yes to vocational ministry and say no to God at the same time. I said yes to God last fall, fully and finally. Today, in the person of Bruce, God answered a resounding "Welcome to reality" right back.
Pray for Bruce. Pray for Cleveland.
-Zack
Monday, January 9, 2012
Recognize
This won't mean much to you if you're not from or live in Cleveland and or don't care about sports.
They say Cleveland is a football town; I can't dispute that. I'm not a Browns fan particularly (though I'd like to see them do well), but it seems nearly everyone else is in Cleveland. Not only are there few supporters of other teams, it's the Browns that get supremacy as the top-dog team among the four pro-teams(though no one actually counts the Lake Erie Monsters) in the city. If you listen to sports talk radio, even right now, the Browns get next to all of the headlines.
A few years back, at least this time of year, that wasn't the case. When LeBron was in town and the Cavs were title contenders, they were the toast of the town. That all changed, obviously, and the Browns came back on top despite their consistent inability to even be competitive.
The NFL is the most popular sport's league in the country right now. Football is the most popular sport. Last Friday, I was watching the Cavs hang with a solid Minnesota team, while in the workout room at our apartment. It went to the commercial so I was reading. During that commercial break, three other guys came in and changed it to the Orange Bowl; a completely meaningless game between a team from West Virginia and a team from South Carolina I don't know who the guys were and I had about 2 minutes left, so I didn't make a big deal about it, but to me, it was a telling experience: there are people who live in Cleveland's inner-city who prefer poorly played amateur football to a riveting game of professional basketball. Two years ago, that wouldn't have ever been the case. Had it been a Brown's regular season game, even this year when they were abysmal, that wouldn't have happened.
I could bemoan the evident lack of respect and pride in the Cavs I see around the city. I could excoriate these three people as representative for the whole city when I shouldn't. I don't know them. One was wearing a camo-style Indians hat, but other than that, I know next to nothing about them.
Whether or not Cleveland as a metro-area loves the Cavs as much as I do or as much as I believe we all ought is immaterial. I've watched at least some of every Cavs game so far this year though, and something magical is happening when they take the court to represent Cleveland. More than anything, I'm afraid the majority of the city is going to miss it.
Cleveland, as a city, has a certain character about it. There's something beneath the surface of the people here. It's certainly a blue collar town in its way, but it's not Detroit in that sense and it's not Toledo or Pittsburgh either. There's something else, something burning and delightful, but hard and tempered on the surface. There's a grit and a grime about the city and the people who live here. That sounds dirty and, in a way, it is a bit, but it's also a sort of resolve and drive that says, in the face of any amount of adversity, that we aren't going anywhere and while we probably won't live to see Cleveland become the metropolis it was once on the track toward, we aren't going to give up the hope that we can do something to propel this city forward. When I watch this year's edition of the Cavs, I see that play out on the court every night.
No matter the deficit, if these Cavaliers do anything, it's hustle. They don't give up. Last night, in the face of a 15 point deficit that turned into a 20 point loss, even more than halfway through the 4th quarter, players were running down loose balls like their entire point of being was winning the game. The style of defense, the tenacity and the hardness with which they play throbs with the spirit of Cleveland's heart. It is still true that each player is either young, lack talent, or both, but as a unit, they come together and operate like a free-wheeling machine hellbent on accomplishing nothing if not putting forth more effort than would seem humanly possible. Losses are going to happen. I'm hopeful for the playoffs, but I'm more doubtful when I'm honest. That's the way the game breaks. But, at least for 8 games, I've never seen a basketball team play that hard, for that long, relentlessly. When I think about their relationship to Cleveland, I can't help but be proud; they/we might not win every game and probably won't win a championship anytime soon, but at least I know they're trying. That is Cleveland as currently situated. The Browns might be what all of Cleveland loves best, but the Cavaliers are the epitome of Cleveland. As of now, it doesn't seem that most of Cleveland really knows or cares. I just hope the snowball rolls up and we all take notice while we still can.
Perhaps the most ironic thing about it all is the way LeBron's Cavs never quite characterized Cleveland. LeBron is hated for two things here that are really one: quitting in the playoffs and betraying the city. More than anything else, he is a quitter- not just for leaving and giving up on his goal to bring Cleveland a championship, but, more importantly and not muddled by his personal rights, he quit on the team during the Boston series his two years ago. Cleveland doesn't quit. Feeling as if he was one of our own then seeing him do the things he did drew such a vehement negative response because people who had thought they saw themselves in LeBron ended up seeing that he was never even close to one of us. He just represented us, and, when it mattered most, he did so poorly. LeBron's Cavs were always characterized by having at least one player better than anyone else on the other team. That's not Cleveland. We have very little to offer that is, on its own, better than any other singular thing in any other city in the world. But altogether, when you take the food, the lack of traffic, the symphony, the spirit, etc...it all adds up to something beautiful. LeBron's leaving cost Cleveland a legitimate title shot for years, but if these Cavs, at any point, do win a championship, it will be as a team far more representative of Cleveland as a place, as a collective. That will be many times more glorious.
-Zack
"I'm sorry but I just can't die for you but I can make 'em put their hands in the sky for you"
-Jay-Z
They say Cleveland is a football town; I can't dispute that. I'm not a Browns fan particularly (though I'd like to see them do well), but it seems nearly everyone else is in Cleveland. Not only are there few supporters of other teams, it's the Browns that get supremacy as the top-dog team among the four pro-teams(though no one actually counts the Lake Erie Monsters) in the city. If you listen to sports talk radio, even right now, the Browns get next to all of the headlines.
A few years back, at least this time of year, that wasn't the case. When LeBron was in town and the Cavs were title contenders, they were the toast of the town. That all changed, obviously, and the Browns came back on top despite their consistent inability to even be competitive.
The NFL is the most popular sport's league in the country right now. Football is the most popular sport. Last Friday, I was watching the Cavs hang with a solid Minnesota team, while in the workout room at our apartment. It went to the commercial so I was reading. During that commercial break, three other guys came in and changed it to the Orange Bowl; a completely meaningless game between a team from West Virginia and a team from South Carolina I don't know who the guys were and I had about 2 minutes left, so I didn't make a big deal about it, but to me, it was a telling experience: there are people who live in Cleveland's inner-city who prefer poorly played amateur football to a riveting game of professional basketball. Two years ago, that wouldn't have ever been the case. Had it been a Brown's regular season game, even this year when they were abysmal, that wouldn't have happened.
I could bemoan the evident lack of respect and pride in the Cavs I see around the city. I could excoriate these three people as representative for the whole city when I shouldn't. I don't know them. One was wearing a camo-style Indians hat, but other than that, I know next to nothing about them.
Whether or not Cleveland as a metro-area loves the Cavs as much as I do or as much as I believe we all ought is immaterial. I've watched at least some of every Cavs game so far this year though, and something magical is happening when they take the court to represent Cleveland. More than anything, I'm afraid the majority of the city is going to miss it.
Cleveland, as a city, has a certain character about it. There's something beneath the surface of the people here. It's certainly a blue collar town in its way, but it's not Detroit in that sense and it's not Toledo or Pittsburgh either. There's something else, something burning and delightful, but hard and tempered on the surface. There's a grit and a grime about the city and the people who live here. That sounds dirty and, in a way, it is a bit, but it's also a sort of resolve and drive that says, in the face of any amount of adversity, that we aren't going anywhere and while we probably won't live to see Cleveland become the metropolis it was once on the track toward, we aren't going to give up the hope that we can do something to propel this city forward. When I watch this year's edition of the Cavs, I see that play out on the court every night.
No matter the deficit, if these Cavaliers do anything, it's hustle. They don't give up. Last night, in the face of a 15 point deficit that turned into a 20 point loss, even more than halfway through the 4th quarter, players were running down loose balls like their entire point of being was winning the game. The style of defense, the tenacity and the hardness with which they play throbs with the spirit of Cleveland's heart. It is still true that each player is either young, lack talent, or both, but as a unit, they come together and operate like a free-wheeling machine hellbent on accomplishing nothing if not putting forth more effort than would seem humanly possible. Losses are going to happen. I'm hopeful for the playoffs, but I'm more doubtful when I'm honest. That's the way the game breaks. But, at least for 8 games, I've never seen a basketball team play that hard, for that long, relentlessly. When I think about their relationship to Cleveland, I can't help but be proud; they/we might not win every game and probably won't win a championship anytime soon, but at least I know they're trying. That is Cleveland as currently situated. The Browns might be what all of Cleveland loves best, but the Cavaliers are the epitome of Cleveland. As of now, it doesn't seem that most of Cleveland really knows or cares. I just hope the snowball rolls up and we all take notice while we still can.
Perhaps the most ironic thing about it all is the way LeBron's Cavs never quite characterized Cleveland. LeBron is hated for two things here that are really one: quitting in the playoffs and betraying the city. More than anything else, he is a quitter- not just for leaving and giving up on his goal to bring Cleveland a championship, but, more importantly and not muddled by his personal rights, he quit on the team during the Boston series his two years ago. Cleveland doesn't quit. Feeling as if he was one of our own then seeing him do the things he did drew such a vehement negative response because people who had thought they saw themselves in LeBron ended up seeing that he was never even close to one of us. He just represented us, and, when it mattered most, he did so poorly. LeBron's Cavs were always characterized by having at least one player better than anyone else on the other team. That's not Cleveland. We have very little to offer that is, on its own, better than any other singular thing in any other city in the world. But altogether, when you take the food, the lack of traffic, the symphony, the spirit, etc...it all adds up to something beautiful. LeBron's leaving cost Cleveland a legitimate title shot for years, but if these Cavs, at any point, do win a championship, it will be as a team far more representative of Cleveland as a place, as a collective. That will be many times more glorious.
-Zack
"I'm sorry but I just can't die for you but I can make 'em put their hands in the sky for you"
-Jay-Z
Thursday, January 5, 2012
My 2011 in the things which I read, saw, watched, and to which I listened
I've done this for as far back as I can remember (not totally true, but it did at least start in High School...my memory goes back before the internet was a completely public network). Previous editions can obviously be found on this blog, but also at dulacian.xanga.com, usually somewhere near the beginning of the year (obviously as well...).
Life is much more than entertainment and this list (and those like it) boil everything that happened, oftentimes, into a series of anecdotes about the things we do to spend our time. I'd argue that watching movies and reading, in the very least, are far from things I do for purely entertainment purposes. Even so, I got married, went to New York, moved to Cleveland, in 2011. None of those things will necessarily be reflected in anything I'm about to write.
...but then again, so much of life, I do believe, is in some way intimated, expressed, experienced via things like books and movies, at least in the way our, my, culture works today. So that's why I continue to do this, each and every year, despite how often I actually make a new blogpost. What I'm reading at a particular point in time influences how I experience and interpret the experiences I encounter while doing so. Likewise, the music we listen to inflects its own style upon the events taking place to it; that's why modern films have soundtracks. So with that in mind, realize, as you read this, that, more than anything, this is a list of the things that meant the most to me last year within their particular categories. It's not a necessary value judgment and most of these things didn't come out in 2011. In any event, enjoy the reading and feel free to count these as recommendations of some sort, within the context of whatever it is I say about the particular pieces.
Literature:
Book of the year: Every year, I generally say this is the "hardest decision." It's not an easy decision this year; see my list yesterday for evidence. But a short book with which I basically ended up at random, cut through the cloudy territory with its life-altering message, simple elegance, and generally entertaining style from cover to cover. For everyone everywhere, I wholeheartedly, from top to bottom, recommend and give my book-of-2011 honor(as if it matters, but whatever...) to Me, Myself, and Bob, by Phil Vischer. If you want to do anything in your life that's at all creative, out of the ordinary, or worthwhile, heed Mr. Vischer's advice. Do yourself a favor and read this book at the next available moment.
Runner-up: Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Author of the Year: One might think that the author of the year ought to go to the author of the book of the year. Though I could potentially argue that Vischer isn't exactly an author, what's more important is that this title goes more to the person as a writer than to the products he or she creates. Vischer created a life altering book, to be sure, but he's far from an author in any other means when it comes to books. He's a fine writer, but I read multiple books by other people and as storytellers go, he doesn't take the cake with his non-fiction. Anyway, I'm actually going in a direction I never thought I'd ever approach this year. Last year, I started reading the Dark Tower cycle, by Stephen King and while it's flawed, it's the most impressive series I've seen for adults, especially in the modern/post-modern era. Some books have sequels. Few of them are better than their predecessor. King created a new world (or many, depending...) and manages to make each novel better than the last. I like his style; it's entertaining and satiric; harsh and subtle; beautiful and inelegant, and so much more, all at once. So, for that reason, I can't go with anyone but Stephen King as my author of the year.
Runner-up: Marcel Proust
Motion Pictures:
Film of the Year: This isn't easy because I didn't watch nearly enough movies last year. I read more books than I saw films. I'm not even sure I liked most of them. Maybe it's just because it's the last one I saw and the first film I ever saw in blu-ray, but True Grit, by Joel and Ethan Coen is easily the best film I saw last year. I actually watched many academy award best pictures and nominees last year, but The Departed, though amazing, would have lost to True Grit were they the same year, A Serious Man though among my favorites just slightly less decentering than True Grit, and the Hurt Locker the most overrated film I've seen in years (it's good but if it weren't current-day American soldiers, it wouldn't have won. Granted, that makes it powerful and one could argue that that's the point. Even as such, True Grit just, for me, hits correctly on more aspects than The Hurt Locker and it's a more altogether impressive piece of art) Hugo, by the way, is excellent. It's odd though- people who love Melies want everyone to see it to give him his due, but if you actually love Melies, you'll also realize that it doesn't actually give him the due he deserves because, quite frankly, to make a movie praising a man for stop motion and editing technique innovation isn't going to sell. Scorsese is brilliant and he'd be my director of the year if I had that category, but, as always, he compromises for his audience at the wrong times. It's a much more impressive movie than book though, if that says anything. On the whole, it felt so conventional, which is sad, considering it's an homage to one of the most innovative men who ever lived. Sure, it's in 3D, but it's a bit gimicky (though seeing the Melies clips in 3d is brilliant) and provides an excuse for being carelessly shot most of the time. Okay, this wasn't suppose to be a review of Hugo or a simple elimination of the other films I watched from True Grit. True Grit is a masterpiece, top 4 or 5 for the Coens, and that on its own is enough for me to love it dearly for the rest of my life. (the top 3, in my exceptionally educated opinion, is: 1. No Country for Old Men, 2. The Big Lebowski, 3. Barton Fink) I'm also biased, and because this is my list, that's good enough.
Runner-Up: The Last Temptation of Christ, Martin Scorsese
Television program of the year: I watched more t.v. last year than I have perhaps ever watched. It's an easy thing to do when Alexandra gets home from work and we don't have long before bed because she has to work in the morning. For the early part of 2011, living in the cabin, I watched next to no television. After moving to Cleveland, it became a flood. Even so, for the most part, outside of sports, I don't really like most t.v. It's simple entertainment and adequate background noise to my reading. Even so, there was a show I had to see every episode of this year: The Next Food Network Star. Though the end of the show was a bit slow and disappointing, the first 5-10 episodes were the most I've ever enjoyed reality t.v.
Runner-Up: The Office
Music:
Song of the Year:
I feel like I'm compelled to pick what I'm about to pick here, but it wouldn't matter...there wasn't a moment this year that I was happier than the moment when Alexandra and I danced to What are you doing the Rest of Your Life, by Dusty Springfield at our wedding reception.
Runner-Up: I Want to be Well, Sufjan Stevens
Artist of the year
If this is a surprise to you, read a couple posts back: Kanye West. He's the greatest living artist still producing at his peak. Not just musically; I mean anyone, anywhere, in any medium. I don't know enough about classical music, architecture, or painting, but I do know Scorsese is past his peak (as are the Coens, whom I'd actually argue are the greatest living directors), and there are next to 0 up and coming directors doing anything as well as Kanye is right now. Rushdie has been past his peak for decades and Eggers, though brilliant, isn't, in my opinion, nearly as prolific or untouchable as Kanye. Kanye out-raps Jay-Z on most of Watch the Throne and he created the majority of the beats for it. He is, as far as I can tell, an auteur of auteurs when it comes to hip-hop.
Runner-Up: Sufjan Stevens
Album of the year:
This is actually harder than you may think. Of course I'm going with Watch the Throne, but Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons and Lungs by Florence and the Machine were absolutely worn out in my car's stereo this past year as well. Even so, near the end of the year, I checked something else out at the library, right before Harvest and well, it almost took first place. It's really more a fight for second place, and for that, I've got to defer to the next line.
Runner-Up: The Age of Adz, Sufjan Stevens
Sports:
Team of the Year: I've got to make up for last year. I went with the Reds for their playoff appearance and listed the Packers as the runner-up. They continued to make me look like a fool and went undefeated from that time til just three weeks ago, picking up a superbowl in the meantime. So, I've got to right the wrong, go with the Green Bay Packers, and wish them the absolute best in the playoffs- hoping for a repeat.
Runner-Up: The College of Wooster, Men's Basketball (for a first-ever national championship game appearance)
I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed reliving my year in print, screen, and sports!
-Zack
"And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make"
Life is much more than entertainment and this list (and those like it) boil everything that happened, oftentimes, into a series of anecdotes about the things we do to spend our time. I'd argue that watching movies and reading, in the very least, are far from things I do for purely entertainment purposes. Even so, I got married, went to New York, moved to Cleveland, in 2011. None of those things will necessarily be reflected in anything I'm about to write.
...but then again, so much of life, I do believe, is in some way intimated, expressed, experienced via things like books and movies, at least in the way our, my, culture works today. So that's why I continue to do this, each and every year, despite how often I actually make a new blogpost. What I'm reading at a particular point in time influences how I experience and interpret the experiences I encounter while doing so. Likewise, the music we listen to inflects its own style upon the events taking place to it; that's why modern films have soundtracks. So with that in mind, realize, as you read this, that, more than anything, this is a list of the things that meant the most to me last year within their particular categories. It's not a necessary value judgment and most of these things didn't come out in 2011. In any event, enjoy the reading and feel free to count these as recommendations of some sort, within the context of whatever it is I say about the particular pieces.
Literature:
Book of the year: Every year, I generally say this is the "hardest decision." It's not an easy decision this year; see my list yesterday for evidence. But a short book with which I basically ended up at random, cut through the cloudy territory with its life-altering message, simple elegance, and generally entertaining style from cover to cover. For everyone everywhere, I wholeheartedly, from top to bottom, recommend and give my book-of-2011 honor(as if it matters, but whatever...) to Me, Myself, and Bob, by Phil Vischer. If you want to do anything in your life that's at all creative, out of the ordinary, or worthwhile, heed Mr. Vischer's advice. Do yourself a favor and read this book at the next available moment.
Runner-up: Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Author of the Year: One might think that the author of the year ought to go to the author of the book of the year. Though I could potentially argue that Vischer isn't exactly an author, what's more important is that this title goes more to the person as a writer than to the products he or she creates. Vischer created a life altering book, to be sure, but he's far from an author in any other means when it comes to books. He's a fine writer, but I read multiple books by other people and as storytellers go, he doesn't take the cake with his non-fiction. Anyway, I'm actually going in a direction I never thought I'd ever approach this year. Last year, I started reading the Dark Tower cycle, by Stephen King and while it's flawed, it's the most impressive series I've seen for adults, especially in the modern/post-modern era. Some books have sequels. Few of them are better than their predecessor. King created a new world (or many, depending...) and manages to make each novel better than the last. I like his style; it's entertaining and satiric; harsh and subtle; beautiful and inelegant, and so much more, all at once. So, for that reason, I can't go with anyone but Stephen King as my author of the year.
Runner-up: Marcel Proust
Motion Pictures:
Film of the Year: This isn't easy because I didn't watch nearly enough movies last year. I read more books than I saw films. I'm not even sure I liked most of them. Maybe it's just because it's the last one I saw and the first film I ever saw in blu-ray, but True Grit, by Joel and Ethan Coen is easily the best film I saw last year. I actually watched many academy award best pictures and nominees last year, but The Departed, though amazing, would have lost to True Grit were they the same year, A Serious Man though among my favorites just slightly less decentering than True Grit, and the Hurt Locker the most overrated film I've seen in years (it's good but if it weren't current-day American soldiers, it wouldn't have won. Granted, that makes it powerful and one could argue that that's the point. Even as such, True Grit just, for me, hits correctly on more aspects than The Hurt Locker and it's a more altogether impressive piece of art) Hugo, by the way, is excellent. It's odd though- people who love Melies want everyone to see it to give him his due, but if you actually love Melies, you'll also realize that it doesn't actually give him the due he deserves because, quite frankly, to make a movie praising a man for stop motion and editing technique innovation isn't going to sell. Scorsese is brilliant and he'd be my director of the year if I had that category, but, as always, he compromises for his audience at the wrong times. It's a much more impressive movie than book though, if that says anything. On the whole, it felt so conventional, which is sad, considering it's an homage to one of the most innovative men who ever lived. Sure, it's in 3D, but it's a bit gimicky (though seeing the Melies clips in 3d is brilliant) and provides an excuse for being carelessly shot most of the time. Okay, this wasn't suppose to be a review of Hugo or a simple elimination of the other films I watched from True Grit. True Grit is a masterpiece, top 4 or 5 for the Coens, and that on its own is enough for me to love it dearly for the rest of my life. (the top 3, in my exceptionally educated opinion, is: 1. No Country for Old Men, 2. The Big Lebowski, 3. Barton Fink) I'm also biased, and because this is my list, that's good enough.
Runner-Up: The Last Temptation of Christ, Martin Scorsese
Television program of the year: I watched more t.v. last year than I have perhaps ever watched. It's an easy thing to do when Alexandra gets home from work and we don't have long before bed because she has to work in the morning. For the early part of 2011, living in the cabin, I watched next to no television. After moving to Cleveland, it became a flood. Even so, for the most part, outside of sports, I don't really like most t.v. It's simple entertainment and adequate background noise to my reading. Even so, there was a show I had to see every episode of this year: The Next Food Network Star. Though the end of the show was a bit slow and disappointing, the first 5-10 episodes were the most I've ever enjoyed reality t.v.
Runner-Up: The Office
Music:
Song of the Year:
I feel like I'm compelled to pick what I'm about to pick here, but it wouldn't matter...there wasn't a moment this year that I was happier than the moment when Alexandra and I danced to What are you doing the Rest of Your Life, by Dusty Springfield at our wedding reception.
Runner-Up: I Want to be Well, Sufjan Stevens
Artist of the year
If this is a surprise to you, read a couple posts back: Kanye West. He's the greatest living artist still producing at his peak. Not just musically; I mean anyone, anywhere, in any medium. I don't know enough about classical music, architecture, or painting, but I do know Scorsese is past his peak (as are the Coens, whom I'd actually argue are the greatest living directors), and there are next to 0 up and coming directors doing anything as well as Kanye is right now. Rushdie has been past his peak for decades and Eggers, though brilliant, isn't, in my opinion, nearly as prolific or untouchable as Kanye. Kanye out-raps Jay-Z on most of Watch the Throne and he created the majority of the beats for it. He is, as far as I can tell, an auteur of auteurs when it comes to hip-hop.
Runner-Up: Sufjan Stevens
Album of the year:
This is actually harder than you may think. Of course I'm going with Watch the Throne, but Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons and Lungs by Florence and the Machine were absolutely worn out in my car's stereo this past year as well. Even so, near the end of the year, I checked something else out at the library, right before Harvest and well, it almost took first place. It's really more a fight for second place, and for that, I've got to defer to the next line.
Runner-Up: The Age of Adz, Sufjan Stevens
Sports:
Team of the Year: I've got to make up for last year. I went with the Reds for their playoff appearance and listed the Packers as the runner-up. They continued to make me look like a fool and went undefeated from that time til just three weeks ago, picking up a superbowl in the meantime. So, I've got to right the wrong, go with the Green Bay Packers, and wish them the absolute best in the playoffs- hoping for a repeat.
Runner-Up: The College of Wooster, Men's Basketball (for a first-ever national championship game appearance)
I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed reliving my year in print, screen, and sports!
-Zack
"And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make"
-Dusty Springfield
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The First 52
You're probably not as obsessed with me and my reading habits as I am (I should just take probably out of that....shouldn't I?), but this past year, I achieved at least some kind of milestone.
Perhaps you've heard of, have done it yourself, or have friend's who've tried, but it's been something of a fad in some circles, in recent years, to read 52 books during a calendar year- one per week.
I fell into the challenge; I always set a goal of one more book per year each year and two years ago, I read 51 books. Last year, even a few days early, I finished 52. I've got a fairly complex system I've been honing since college and it gets the job done exceedingly well (as long as I put in the reading time each day).
Law school might derail my goals for the foreseeable future. Indeed, I may have set the high for my life this past year. That's a bit crazy to think considering all that happened last year, but it seems unlikely that I'll get to 53 this year (though I'll try), which means I will only set my goal based on what I do this year. Who knows what that really means. In the end, I'm glad to have averaged 1 book per week in 2011. It will always be among my favorite years ever- perhaps my reading achievements will just be part of that. In any event, I thought, in honor of the sort-of accomplishment, I'd post the list, for posterity's sake (whatever that actually means...I don't know how much I want my kids reading blog posts from 2012 when they're old enough to read...).
The number on the left is the pages ( I copied that straight out of my excel sheet). It adds up to 16972....also a personal best (and I read War and Peace in 2010, so that's an excellent average by my own standards).
Maybe this post is just me bragging...I don't know. If nothing else, you'll know what I'm drawing from when I do my "best of 2011" post tomorrow. You won't want to miss that...it's always my favorite post of the year (and it goes back to pre-Wooster as something I post in some blog somewhere), which I hope means it's enjoyable for my readers.
Until then,
-Zack
"Follow me now as I favor the ghost"
-Sufjan Stevens
Perhaps you've heard of, have done it yourself, or have friend's who've tried, but it's been something of a fad in some circles, in recent years, to read 52 books during a calendar year- one per week.
I fell into the challenge; I always set a goal of one more book per year each year and two years ago, I read 51 books. Last year, even a few days early, I finished 52. I've got a fairly complex system I've been honing since college and it gets the job done exceedingly well (as long as I put in the reading time each day).
Law school might derail my goals for the foreseeable future. Indeed, I may have set the high for my life this past year. That's a bit crazy to think considering all that happened last year, but it seems unlikely that I'll get to 53 this year (though I'll try), which means I will only set my goal based on what I do this year. Who knows what that really means. In the end, I'm glad to have averaged 1 book per week in 2011. It will always be among my favorite years ever- perhaps my reading achievements will just be part of that. In any event, I thought, in honor of the sort-of accomplishment, I'd post the list, for posterity's sake (whatever that actually means...I don't know how much I want my kids reading blog posts from 2012 when they're old enough to read...).
| 1. The Gunslinger | Stephen King | 216 |
| Being White | Doug Schaup | 183 |
| My Name is Asher Lev | Chaim Potok | 350 |
| The Prayer Life | Andrew Murray | 128 |
| The Drawing of Three | Stephen King | 463 |
| Velvet Elvis | Rob Bell | 177 |
| Love in the Time of Cholera | Gabriel Garcia Marquez | 348 |
| The Restaurant at the End of the Universe | Douglas Addams | 217 |
| the Yiddish Policemen's Union | Michael Chabon | 411 |
| The Two Towers | J.R.R. Tolkien | 447 |
| Life the Universe, and Everything | Douglas Addams | 232 |
| Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix | J.K. Rowling | 870 |
| The Hunger Games | Suzanne Collins | 374 |
| Swann's Way | Marcel Proust | 444 |
| So Long and Thanks for All the Fish | Douglas Addams | 152 |
| God on Campus | Trent Sheppard | 184 |
| The Ragamuffin Gospel | Brennan Manning | 224 |
| The Wastelands | Stephen King | 420 |
| Catching Fire | Suzanne Collins | 391 |
| The End of Sexual Identity | Jenell Williams-Paris | 144 |
| The Giver | Lois Lowry | 180 |
| Mostly Harmless | Douglas Addams | 180 |
| Daniel Deronda | George Eliot | 883 |
| The Return of the King | J.R.R. Tolkien | 340 |
| Mocking Jay | Suzanne Collins | 390 |
| Justification | N.T. Wright | 252 |
| Me, Myself, and Bob | Phil Vischer | 260 |
| Radical | David Platt | 217 |
| Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince | J.K. Rowling | 652 |
| Of Mice and Men | John Steinbeck | 107 |
| The Golden Compass | Philip Pullman | 399 |
| Where Wizards Stay Up Late | Katie Hafner | 265 |
| In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower | Marcel Proust | 531 |
| A Midsummer Nights's Dream | William Shakespeare | 92 |
| Heart, soul, Mind, Strength | Andrew Le Peau | 195 |
| Jurassic Park | Michael Crichton | 399 |
| Wizard and Glass | Stephen King | 694 |
| The Symposium | Plato | 114 |
| The Writing Life | Annie Dillard | 111 |
| The Subtle Knife | Philip Pullman | 326 |
| Daily Quiet Time for Couples | David and Teresa Ferguson | 365 |
| The Invention of Hugo Cabret | Brian Selznick | 525 |
| Love's Labors Lost | William Shakespeare | 146 |
| Forrest Gump | Winston Groom | 248 |
| The Sun Also Rises | Ernest Hemmingway | 247 |
| When Love Comes to Town | Paul Louis Metzger | 275 |
| Wuthering Heights | Emily Bronte | 317 |
| The Lost World | Michael Crichton | 430 |
| The Whore of Akron | Scott Raab | 300 |
| Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows | J.K. Rowling | 759 |
| A Long Way Gone | Ishmael Beah | 217 |
| 52. Jesus Wants to Save Christians | Rob Bell | 181 |
The number on the left is the pages ( I copied that straight out of my excel sheet). It adds up to 16972....also a personal best (and I read War and Peace in 2010, so that's an excellent average by my own standards).
Maybe this post is just me bragging...I don't know. If nothing else, you'll know what I'm drawing from when I do my "best of 2011" post tomorrow. You won't want to miss that...it's always my favorite post of the year (and it goes back to pre-Wooster as something I post in some blog somewhere), which I hope means it's enjoyable for my readers.
Until then,
-Zack
"Follow me now as I favor the ghost"
-Sufjan Stevens
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
This is not a review
More an ode really, and a story.
Every year, from the day after Thanksgiving through Christmas day, I strive to listen to nothing but Christmas music. This serves a couple of purposes: it gets me in the mood for Christmas (and that's a mood in which I like to be) and it justifies to enormous collection of Christmas music I let stay on my hard drives and iPods throughout the rest of the year.
I love Christmas music so much. I can't wait, each and every year, to listen to every version of "The Wexford Carol" I can find; I can't wait to listen to the Veggie Tales Christmas albums. I can't wait to listen to Bach's Christmas work. I can't even wait to hear the Aspenglow, by John Denver.
But these past two years, I've had my share of inner-struggles to keep it up. In both instances, the challenge has been staged (quite unaware, I'm sure), by my favorite celebrity: namely, Kanye West. Last year, in mid-November, I recieved "My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy." It was the best rap-album I'd ever heard, and the most artistically progressive album I've listened to since first playing Sgt. Peppers on repeat 500 times my senior year of High School.
I was able to push back the urges. As badly as I wanted to listen to the album, I successfully listened to nothing but Christmas music for the appointed time period.
This year, well, things are a bit different. I've already failed. Kanye was the culprit again, with a new album. This time round, he's joined by Jay-Z on "Watch the Throne." My christmas-listening pledge never stood a chance. I got the album a few days before the wedding (though I'd listened to it many times on Grooveshark beforehand) and listened as often as I could til our last day in New York (the day after Thanksgiving). I was doing so well listening to Christmas music. If I found myself wanting to pop Watch the Throne into my car CD player, I just switched to sports talk radio.
But I gave in, on the way to the LSAT last Saturday. Scratch that- I didn't give in at all. I made a CD with Watch the Throne and two appropriate pump-up tracks to intentionally listen to on the way to Oberlin. But the hull was breached. I've listened to non-Christmas music many times since (and not even exclusively Watch the Throne).
I don't think it's just Watch the Throne's brilliance that led me to do what I did. It is brilliant. It might be the pinnacle of hip hop. It might all be downhill for the rest of hip-hop history. It might be Led Zeppelin's last album, so to speak, if Hip-Hop is rock and roll. Kanye and Jay-Z aren't retiring (Jay-Z probably will a few more times, but that's neither here nor there) so I could be wrong, but if, in 20 years, nothing has been released that approaches "Watch the Throne" I won't be surprised.
Just five years ago, that last paragraph would have been veritably impossible for me to write. Before I went to China, I almost never listened to Hip Hop and I rarely enjoyed it when I did. I won't recount that whole story because I don't think I quite understand what happened yet.
I can, however, account for why, exactly, "Watch the Throne" was exactly what I wanted to listen to when I was going in for a day long test that will determine my life's trajectory. Something happens, something changes, for good or ill, inside the listener in the words rhymed to a beat in exemplary hip-hop. I can talk for days and days about how Kanye elevates Hip-hop to fine artistry from an aesthetic standpoint, but ultimately, there's something of a mental exchange that always happens when the words are flowing and it vibes with the listener's soul in a unique way. I've heard taking cocaine likened to making one feel invincible, like they can do anything. In a similar way, getting lost in a good verse of hip-hop does that very thing to a listener.
I've loved music for as long as I can remember. But I've never needed music the way I need the second verse of this song:
No, that's not on Watch the Throne. It is, however, perhaps the most exciting minute in the history of music. And it's one person. All of Hip-Hop, even Watch the throne, defined for it's greatness as a collab, is a series of interconnected personal projects. Every verse is a one man show- even if its a tradeoff that creates the whole. The beat, the best beats at least, are the created by one person and rapped over, by one person.
Art, great art, the greatest art, is often defined as the truest possible expression of one individuals interpretation of the world or their inner being (and often how they interact). That's why Proust is wonderful (albeit dense and challenging) and Hollywood Action movies are universally panned. Part of it is motive: why is it created. Part of it is execution: how is it created. Hip-Hop is a basic equation: personal beat plus personal verse= track. But the applications are endless.
As a post-modern aesthete, what could be better than an unadulterated expression of a human's inner self in response to the outer world expressed emotionally? It's the ultimate post-modern art-form really; there is little to no impersonal rap...not even this:
I won't talk much about the applications of Waka Flocka Flame and his ilk, but I do believe there's an important space for that type of work in the body of Hip-Hop. It's expressing a side of life for someone, and as such, it's valid, even if it's incomprehensible and abhorrent to people like my mom (and I imagine yours...even if I don't know you, I can probably bank on that, ninety times out of ninety-one)
Though I share little in common with Kanye or Jay-Z, for the past 5 years, nothing has thrilled me more than their shared tracks. Watch the Throne is an entire album of my favorite type of tracks since roughly 2007. It's existence was exhilarating and experiencing it, even at the expense of a long-held Christmasrule, has yet to get old.
As the name suggests, it's something of a celebration of the opulence both artists lives are known to hold. But it's introspective at times too; if anything, it's a critique akin to the Great Gatsby. Unlike that work, which often initiates High School children to great literature, Watch the Throne really isn't for the uninitiated. If you're not a fan of hip-hop, you're not going to suddenly get it from this album. If you're easily offended, you'll still be offended. But if you like any form of hip-hop at all, how can tracks like this not drive you to the point of joyous delirium?:
That's the first track on the album. It just builds and flows from there, and by the end, if you're not at least rethinking how you approach entertainment, then that just means you've got to listen again. Or at least, that's what it means for me.
But part of it is all irrational. For some reason, God made me so that I'd connect with tightly wound hip-hop no matter the content and for me it's a semi-spiritual experience. That can't happen to everyone, but at least for me, it's a sort of indulgence I must take, and, in doing so, transport my soul to a different place, even for a few moments. And when I emerge? I'm only more and more the person I'm meant to be.
-Zack
"I don't even know what that means; no one knows what it means, it's provocative, it gets the people going"
Every year, from the day after Thanksgiving through Christmas day, I strive to listen to nothing but Christmas music. This serves a couple of purposes: it gets me in the mood for Christmas (and that's a mood in which I like to be) and it justifies to enormous collection of Christmas music I let stay on my hard drives and iPods throughout the rest of the year.
I love Christmas music so much. I can't wait, each and every year, to listen to every version of "The Wexford Carol" I can find; I can't wait to listen to the Veggie Tales Christmas albums. I can't wait to listen to Bach's Christmas work. I can't even wait to hear the Aspenglow, by John Denver.
But these past two years, I've had my share of inner-struggles to keep it up. In both instances, the challenge has been staged (quite unaware, I'm sure), by my favorite celebrity: namely, Kanye West. Last year, in mid-November, I recieved "My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy." It was the best rap-album I'd ever heard, and the most artistically progressive album I've listened to since first playing Sgt. Peppers on repeat 500 times my senior year of High School.
I was able to push back the urges. As badly as I wanted to listen to the album, I successfully listened to nothing but Christmas music for the appointed time period.
This year, well, things are a bit different. I've already failed. Kanye was the culprit again, with a new album. This time round, he's joined by Jay-Z on "Watch the Throne." My christmas-listening pledge never stood a chance. I got the album a few days before the wedding (though I'd listened to it many times on Grooveshark beforehand) and listened as often as I could til our last day in New York (the day after Thanksgiving). I was doing so well listening to Christmas music. If I found myself wanting to pop Watch the Throne into my car CD player, I just switched to sports talk radio.
But I gave in, on the way to the LSAT last Saturday. Scratch that- I didn't give in at all. I made a CD with Watch the Throne and two appropriate pump-up tracks to intentionally listen to on the way to Oberlin. But the hull was breached. I've listened to non-Christmas music many times since (and not even exclusively Watch the Throne).
I don't think it's just Watch the Throne's brilliance that led me to do what I did. It is brilliant. It might be the pinnacle of hip hop. It might all be downhill for the rest of hip-hop history. It might be Led Zeppelin's last album, so to speak, if Hip-Hop is rock and roll. Kanye and Jay-Z aren't retiring (Jay-Z probably will a few more times, but that's neither here nor there) so I could be wrong, but if, in 20 years, nothing has been released that approaches "Watch the Throne" I won't be surprised.
Just five years ago, that last paragraph would have been veritably impossible for me to write. Before I went to China, I almost never listened to Hip Hop and I rarely enjoyed it when I did. I won't recount that whole story because I don't think I quite understand what happened yet.
I can, however, account for why, exactly, "Watch the Throne" was exactly what I wanted to listen to when I was going in for a day long test that will determine my life's trajectory. Something happens, something changes, for good or ill, inside the listener in the words rhymed to a beat in exemplary hip-hop. I can talk for days and days about how Kanye elevates Hip-hop to fine artistry from an aesthetic standpoint, but ultimately, there's something of a mental exchange that always happens when the words are flowing and it vibes with the listener's soul in a unique way. I've heard taking cocaine likened to making one feel invincible, like they can do anything. In a similar way, getting lost in a good verse of hip-hop does that very thing to a listener.
I've loved music for as long as I can remember. But I've never needed music the way I need the second verse of this song:
No, that's not on Watch the Throne. It is, however, perhaps the most exciting minute in the history of music. And it's one person. All of Hip-Hop, even Watch the throne, defined for it's greatness as a collab, is a series of interconnected personal projects. Every verse is a one man show- even if its a tradeoff that creates the whole. The beat, the best beats at least, are the created by one person and rapped over, by one person.
Art, great art, the greatest art, is often defined as the truest possible expression of one individuals interpretation of the world or their inner being (and often how they interact). That's why Proust is wonderful (albeit dense and challenging) and Hollywood Action movies are universally panned. Part of it is motive: why is it created. Part of it is execution: how is it created. Hip-Hop is a basic equation: personal beat plus personal verse= track. But the applications are endless.
As a post-modern aesthete, what could be better than an unadulterated expression of a human's inner self in response to the outer world expressed emotionally? It's the ultimate post-modern art-form really; there is little to no impersonal rap...not even this:
I won't talk much about the applications of Waka Flocka Flame and his ilk, but I do believe there's an important space for that type of work in the body of Hip-Hop. It's expressing a side of life for someone, and as such, it's valid, even if it's incomprehensible and abhorrent to people like my mom (and I imagine yours...even if I don't know you, I can probably bank on that, ninety times out of ninety-one)
Though I share little in common with Kanye or Jay-Z, for the past 5 years, nothing has thrilled me more than their shared tracks. Watch the Throne is an entire album of my favorite type of tracks since roughly 2007. It's existence was exhilarating and experiencing it, even at the expense of a long-held Christmasrule, has yet to get old.
As the name suggests, it's something of a celebration of the opulence both artists lives are known to hold. But it's introspective at times too; if anything, it's a critique akin to the Great Gatsby. Unlike that work, which often initiates High School children to great literature, Watch the Throne really isn't for the uninitiated. If you're not a fan of hip-hop, you're not going to suddenly get it from this album. If you're easily offended, you'll still be offended. But if you like any form of hip-hop at all, how can tracks like this not drive you to the point of joyous delirium?:
That's the first track on the album. It just builds and flows from there, and by the end, if you're not at least rethinking how you approach entertainment, then that just means you've got to listen again. Or at least, that's what it means for me.
But part of it is all irrational. For some reason, God made me so that I'd connect with tightly wound hip-hop no matter the content and for me it's a semi-spiritual experience. That can't happen to everyone, but at least for me, it's a sort of indulgence I must take, and, in doing so, transport my soul to a different place, even for a few moments. And when I emerge? I'm only more and more the person I'm meant to be.
-Zack
"I don't even know what that means; no one knows what it means, it's provocative, it gets the people going"
Monday, December 12, 2011
Finding Eyes
N.T. Wright, who is much more important to people who've never heard of him, I think, than he is to many who have, is famous for being the marquee voice of the "New Perspective" school of Biblical scholars.
I'm not going to write about that. I like the idea though; a new perspective.
I've read reviews, blogs, facebook posts, tweets, heard sermons, podcasts, Hillsdale-lunch-table addresses refuting recent Biblical scholarship, theological pondering, self-reconfigurement, when such things flew into the face of "tradition." Tradition, ancient dogmas, long-held beliefs, it seems, gain credence because they are such.
I may have been an English major, but I guarantee that's an indefensible defense in any lab or law room.
Other things that have long been established: forced prostitution. Slavery. Bigotry. Homophobia. War-mongering. Ethnocentrism. Toxic patriotic worship of the nation-state.
How long something has been around is a part of something's facticity, and nothing more. I've been around for 24 years. Does that mean I'm inherently more trustworthy than a 22 year old guy? How old was Benedict Arnold?
I am the biggest proponent of post-modernism as an ideology that you'll ever meet, so perhaps I'm biased.
But I didn't adopt it because it was the thing to do. As I learned and read and continue to read, I've realized that Foucault, Derrida, and Fanon weren't just flying in a face for the sake of the impact: they truly believed that their way of viewing the world improved upon the old way.
In that same vein, let me get a big arrogant for a minute: I don't choose to view the world through a post-modern lens: I do so because I believe it's the lens that best allows us to understand it (whatever there is, that is, that can be understood).
So if that's true, then I've got to ask, once more, once more forever over again, what happens when I hold to that belief while I hold to the belief that the Bible is the inspired world of God? I can't put my trained, cultivated lens on hold just because of what I'm reading. That's not possible and I've learned that, time and again.
And what does happen, what happens indeed? Things I'll never stop learning, never stop writing about for one. Today, I've been thinking about a few in particular: structures, systems, well, they're put on hold when you're looking through the post-modern lens. Face-value is the only value. So when Jesus says that the things you bind on Earth are bound in heaven and vice-versa, He meant it. What does that mean for me? It means Nietzsche and Jesus had a lot more in common than anyone would have ever guessed. This isn't an essay, and I don't feel like explaining that, but I will, for a moment: Nietzsche (about whom most Christians know little other than "he's a really bad guy who hated God!") considered morality a state of personal preference: we hold ourselves to what seems right and wrong based on our upbringing and perspective. The philosophy textbook I had called this individual perspectivism. It's not quite saying nothing is objectively right or wrong, but it comes close. Jesus doesn't say anything like that, but he does say, quite plainly, that God honors the things we establish as right and wrong on Earth.
What, wiggle room? That can't be Christian, can it? Well, why not? Even with a lenient, nearly-non-existent take on morality, who would ever say they've never done anything wrong? It's an experiential slippery slope to a tabula rasa, sure, but let's be realistic: do I have to acknowledge my sin based on someone else's rules or my own to come to confession? Be careful with your answer. If you're talking to someone who doesn't believe smoking is a sin and you do, but to humor you, they repent of it in asking Jesus into their heart, have they actually confessed anything? In my mind, smoking is a disputable matter, to use Paul's words. To use Paul's arguments, that means if I do it and think it's sin, it is....if I do it and think it's not, well, I'm in the clear. In other words, Jesus and Paul (who usually stand at odds in the traditionalist mindset; systematic theology is, far too often the study of how to be an exclusionist, racist, bigot and feel good about one's self) agree on something and it's something most American Evangelicals don't even believe.
That's just a bit...I could say more. I don't have time. I'll never have time. In any event, in any case, keep pushing forward...someday we'll find the river.
-Zack
"314 soldiers died in Iraq; 509 died in Chicago"
-Kanye West
I'm not going to write about that. I like the idea though; a new perspective.
I've read reviews, blogs, facebook posts, tweets, heard sermons, podcasts, Hillsdale-lunch-table addresses refuting recent Biblical scholarship, theological pondering, self-reconfigurement, when such things flew into the face of "tradition." Tradition, ancient dogmas, long-held beliefs, it seems, gain credence because they are such.
I may have been an English major, but I guarantee that's an indefensible defense in any lab or law room.
Other things that have long been established: forced prostitution. Slavery. Bigotry. Homophobia. War-mongering. Ethnocentrism. Toxic patriotic worship of the nation-state.
How long something has been around is a part of something's facticity, and nothing more. I've been around for 24 years. Does that mean I'm inherently more trustworthy than a 22 year old guy? How old was Benedict Arnold?
I am the biggest proponent of post-modernism as an ideology that you'll ever meet, so perhaps I'm biased.
But I didn't adopt it because it was the thing to do. As I learned and read and continue to read, I've realized that Foucault, Derrida, and Fanon weren't just flying in a face for the sake of the impact: they truly believed that their way of viewing the world improved upon the old way.
In that same vein, let me get a big arrogant for a minute: I don't choose to view the world through a post-modern lens: I do so because I believe it's the lens that best allows us to understand it (whatever there is, that is, that can be understood).
So if that's true, then I've got to ask, once more, once more forever over again, what happens when I hold to that belief while I hold to the belief that the Bible is the inspired world of God? I can't put my trained, cultivated lens on hold just because of what I'm reading. That's not possible and I've learned that, time and again.
And what does happen, what happens indeed? Things I'll never stop learning, never stop writing about for one. Today, I've been thinking about a few in particular: structures, systems, well, they're put on hold when you're looking through the post-modern lens. Face-value is the only value. So when Jesus says that the things you bind on Earth are bound in heaven and vice-versa, He meant it. What does that mean for me? It means Nietzsche and Jesus had a lot more in common than anyone would have ever guessed. This isn't an essay, and I don't feel like explaining that, but I will, for a moment: Nietzsche (about whom most Christians know little other than "he's a really bad guy who hated God!") considered morality a state of personal preference: we hold ourselves to what seems right and wrong based on our upbringing and perspective. The philosophy textbook I had called this individual perspectivism. It's not quite saying nothing is objectively right or wrong, but it comes close. Jesus doesn't say anything like that, but he does say, quite plainly, that God honors the things we establish as right and wrong on Earth.
What, wiggle room? That can't be Christian, can it? Well, why not? Even with a lenient, nearly-non-existent take on morality, who would ever say they've never done anything wrong? It's an experiential slippery slope to a tabula rasa, sure, but let's be realistic: do I have to acknowledge my sin based on someone else's rules or my own to come to confession? Be careful with your answer. If you're talking to someone who doesn't believe smoking is a sin and you do, but to humor you, they repent of it in asking Jesus into their heart, have they actually confessed anything? In my mind, smoking is a disputable matter, to use Paul's words. To use Paul's arguments, that means if I do it and think it's sin, it is....if I do it and think it's not, well, I'm in the clear. In other words, Jesus and Paul (who usually stand at odds in the traditionalist mindset; systematic theology is, far too often the study of how to be an exclusionist, racist, bigot and feel good about one's self) agree on something and it's something most American Evangelicals don't even believe.
That's just a bit...I could say more. I don't have time. I'll never have time. In any event, in any case, keep pushing forward...someday we'll find the river.
-Zack
"314 soldiers died in Iraq; 509 died in Chicago"
-Kanye West
Monday, November 28, 2011
Some things, they happened.
I got married.
I went to New York.
I came back to Cleveland and realized that I don't ever want to live in a different city, almost immediately.
The NBA is back.
Urban Meyer is Ohio State's new coach.
I returned to CSU and held Bible study again and it felt good.
I turned 24.
Thanksgiving happened and I'm back into Christmas music
Other things, more minor things, happened too. That's in no particular order, but the top one should be where it is, that's certain. It was an incredible week. To say I can't believe it's already over is an understatement. But it's a struggle, to jump back into the grind. I don't know if it's good or dangerous that next week is already the last week of classes at CSU.
It's a good thing for my reading. I've still got to finish 10 books to reach my goal for the year. I'm only close to the end of three right now, plus Wuthering Heights (which I can't wait to begin on Thursday). I've got to finish 6 other books I've got hundreds of pages left in or haven't started yet (effectively having hundreds of pages left in them). I haven't failed yet since I started this reading schedule. I might fail this year. That happens, when you get married and plant a chapter in the same year. It's been a busy year.
I feel a lot more grown up now, than I did November 18th. Its got to be artificial, because what really changed? But what really changes ever? Isn't it just a mindset anyway? It's a good thing because I'd say it's about time.
We walked by Occupy Wall Street on Friday. It was small and kind of annoying. I'm all for the occupy movement in concept; if anything, I don't think they come out as anti-capitalist enough for my own taste. But essentially, that's where I see the broken link. Our system is broken because of Corporate greed, but corporations are greedy because the system rewards them for greed and favors the non-benevolent. It's impossible for the 99% to get their fair share within this system, so protesting at Wall Street isn't going to accomplish much, because this system is set up to benefit those who have and punish those without. As long as that's the case, it's game over before it's game on. Until people are people and valued a such (and not considered a commodity), our crick widens and our paddle dwindles further to oblivion.
But like I said, I got married. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm only beginning to understand what it really means, but it excites me to the brink of frivolity just thinking about it.
-Zack
I went to New York.
I came back to Cleveland and realized that I don't ever want to live in a different city, almost immediately.
The NBA is back.
Urban Meyer is Ohio State's new coach.
I returned to CSU and held Bible study again and it felt good.
I turned 24.
Thanksgiving happened and I'm back into Christmas music
Other things, more minor things, happened too. That's in no particular order, but the top one should be where it is, that's certain. It was an incredible week. To say I can't believe it's already over is an understatement. But it's a struggle, to jump back into the grind. I don't know if it's good or dangerous that next week is already the last week of classes at CSU.
It's a good thing for my reading. I've still got to finish 10 books to reach my goal for the year. I'm only close to the end of three right now, plus Wuthering Heights (which I can't wait to begin on Thursday). I've got to finish 6 other books I've got hundreds of pages left in or haven't started yet (effectively having hundreds of pages left in them). I haven't failed yet since I started this reading schedule. I might fail this year. That happens, when you get married and plant a chapter in the same year. It's been a busy year.
I feel a lot more grown up now, than I did November 18th. Its got to be artificial, because what really changed? But what really changes ever? Isn't it just a mindset anyway? It's a good thing because I'd say it's about time.
We walked by Occupy Wall Street on Friday. It was small and kind of annoying. I'm all for the occupy movement in concept; if anything, I don't think they come out as anti-capitalist enough for my own taste. But essentially, that's where I see the broken link. Our system is broken because of Corporate greed, but corporations are greedy because the system rewards them for greed and favors the non-benevolent. It's impossible for the 99% to get their fair share within this system, so protesting at Wall Street isn't going to accomplish much, because this system is set up to benefit those who have and punish those without. As long as that's the case, it's game over before it's game on. Until people are people and valued a such (and not considered a commodity), our crick widens and our paddle dwindles further to oblivion.
But like I said, I got married. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm only beginning to understand what it really means, but it excites me to the brink of frivolity just thinking about it.
-Zack
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
RePrint
As you can see, if you've ever been here before, I've redesigned, retitled my "blog" once more. As I've developed a more regular writing schedule elsewhere and I don't use this like what the term "blog" has come to mean, with regards to a posting schedule and topic, I thought I'd leave the esoteric and grasp the pragmatic.
Nothing really changes except that I've accepted the truth about my blogging habits. I've never actually edited, at length, a blogpost before posting. I just sit down and create from the top of my head about whatever is striking me with enough force to generate a roll of thoughts. I like it. I want to keep doing it.
That's why I'm recreating this once more. Days pass and time goes on. You could say we're always learning. I like to consider learning the process of reclaiming the reality that truly is, locked deep inside of every person, everything, every experience, everywhere.
-Zack
Nothing really changes except that I've accepted the truth about my blogging habits. I've never actually edited, at length, a blogpost before posting. I just sit down and create from the top of my head about whatever is striking me with enough force to generate a roll of thoughts. I like it. I want to keep doing it.
That's why I'm recreating this once more. Days pass and time goes on. You could say we're always learning. I like to consider learning the process of reclaiming the reality that truly is, locked deep inside of every person, everything, every experience, everywhere.
-Zack
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Rough
About one week ago, while we were walking Alexandra's dog, a red, fairly new Mazda 3 pulled up in a driveway behind us. We kept walking, figuring it to be the person who lived at that house. It was but a second though, before the car's driver beckoned us back "Hey, do you live around here?" she said.
"We do, but we're not really from around here" I replied, assuming she was about to ask for directions.
"Well, you should be careful walking around here, if you don't know, it's a pretty rough neighborhood" she replied.
I didn't know what to say at the time, so I just said "it's okay, we walk around all the time, there've never been any issues"
"Okay" she said, as we started walking again.
The driver was probably in her mid-thirties, obviously from somewhere else as she sped down the road and turned right on Madison as we continued our walk.
I still have no real idea what she's talking about, primarily because I have no idea what makes one neighborhood "rougher" than any other short of calling it such.
The truth is, I've never felt in danger walking around our neighborhood, between W. 98th and W. 85th, Madison, and Lorain. There have been a few loose, biggish dogs that have had me worried from time to time, but more kids wander around than anything else. It's an inner-city neighborhood, to be certain, but how does that preclude it, by that very fact alone, from being as safe as the corner of Columbia and Wolf in Bay Village?
I'm exaggerating a bit to make a point; there are generally more sirens in our neighborhood than there are in Bay Village. But even so, it's not so markedly unsafe that a warning to two white people walking a little white dog ought to be issued by concerned, upper-middle class women from Rocky River who got lost trying to get back to 90. I can't fault people for being concerned, but I can and have to fault them for perpetuating the stereotypes.
What makes an inner-city neighborhood rough is vastly different, as far as I can tell, from what gets it to the place of being considered "rough." In my mind, rough means dangerous- like, gang activity, drive bys, muggings and drug busts on the daily.
Some of that might or maybe probably does happen in my neighborhood to some extent. But it's not brazen and it's not to the extent that groups of fairly well-behaved and joyful children don't run about playing any number of games everyday after school. I've never once heard a gunshot and I've only seen cops driving through the neighborhood with lights on twice in ~6 months.
So why did someone stop to warn us? Because people in our neighborhood make, on average, less money than people in Rocky River. No one really owns their home in our neighborhood. People do own some things- pit bulls, mostly. I imagine it is a more dangerous neighborhood than others, but the roughness is primarily a matter of perception.
Until we stop thinking of neighborhoods as rough in and of themselves as a result of perception, they won't ever improve. Not because they're not improving, but because we're basing it on a felt (though imaginary) need to be better than someone else to be well off. Why live in the suburbs when you work downtown? Because it's safer. If it's not safer than somewhere else, then why live so far away? Sure, the houses are nicer, but the innercity houses can be improved too. But they won't be; as long as people believe the people who live in those houses are likely drug addicts, greedy, lazy welfare recipients without education, then they don't have to think those people deserve nicer places to live.
It's not that my neighborhood is actually all that rough or dangerous. But it has to be thought of as such, or else a lot of work, a lot of staring yourself in the mirror and admitting issues and prejudices would have to take place. It's so much easier just to call it "rough."
Maybe I'm naive and hopeful. I don't care. I just know that until we start believing that others are worth our time and investment, we, as a society, will continue to fall apart. A lot of people love Cleveland and want to see it renewed. I like to think I'm near the front of that line of well-wishers. But we'll never see it happen, Cleveland, if we keep believing that the majority of our city is "rough" and doesn't deserve our time. This city isn't just sports teams and restaurants. It's people. Believing in Cleveland isn't believing in some ethereal sense of civic pride from Strongsville. It's believing that everyone in Cuyahoga county has inherent value- from the poorest person at the corner of Carnegie and east 45th to the richest person on Lake Road in Bay Village- and living, breathing, acting, as if that is true.
-Zack
"In our weakness help us see
That alone we'll never be
Lifting any burdens off our shoulders"
"We do, but we're not really from around here" I replied, assuming she was about to ask for directions.
"Well, you should be careful walking around here, if you don't know, it's a pretty rough neighborhood" she replied.
I didn't know what to say at the time, so I just said "it's okay, we walk around all the time, there've never been any issues"
"Okay" she said, as we started walking again.
The driver was probably in her mid-thirties, obviously from somewhere else as she sped down the road and turned right on Madison as we continued our walk.
I still have no real idea what she's talking about, primarily because I have no idea what makes one neighborhood "rougher" than any other short of calling it such.
The truth is, I've never felt in danger walking around our neighborhood, between W. 98th and W. 85th, Madison, and Lorain. There have been a few loose, biggish dogs that have had me worried from time to time, but more kids wander around than anything else. It's an inner-city neighborhood, to be certain, but how does that preclude it, by that very fact alone, from being as safe as the corner of Columbia and Wolf in Bay Village?
I'm exaggerating a bit to make a point; there are generally more sirens in our neighborhood than there are in Bay Village. But even so, it's not so markedly unsafe that a warning to two white people walking a little white dog ought to be issued by concerned, upper-middle class women from Rocky River who got lost trying to get back to 90. I can't fault people for being concerned, but I can and have to fault them for perpetuating the stereotypes.
What makes an inner-city neighborhood rough is vastly different, as far as I can tell, from what gets it to the place of being considered "rough." In my mind, rough means dangerous- like, gang activity, drive bys, muggings and drug busts on the daily.
Some of that might or maybe probably does happen in my neighborhood to some extent. But it's not brazen and it's not to the extent that groups of fairly well-behaved and joyful children don't run about playing any number of games everyday after school. I've never once heard a gunshot and I've only seen cops driving through the neighborhood with lights on twice in ~6 months.
So why did someone stop to warn us? Because people in our neighborhood make, on average, less money than people in Rocky River. No one really owns their home in our neighborhood. People do own some things- pit bulls, mostly. I imagine it is a more dangerous neighborhood than others, but the roughness is primarily a matter of perception.
Until we stop thinking of neighborhoods as rough in and of themselves as a result of perception, they won't ever improve. Not because they're not improving, but because we're basing it on a felt (though imaginary) need to be better than someone else to be well off. Why live in the suburbs when you work downtown? Because it's safer. If it's not safer than somewhere else, then why live so far away? Sure, the houses are nicer, but the innercity houses can be improved too. But they won't be; as long as people believe the people who live in those houses are likely drug addicts, greedy, lazy welfare recipients without education, then they don't have to think those people deserve nicer places to live.
It's not that my neighborhood is actually all that rough or dangerous. But it has to be thought of as such, or else a lot of work, a lot of staring yourself in the mirror and admitting issues and prejudices would have to take place. It's so much easier just to call it "rough."
Maybe I'm naive and hopeful. I don't care. I just know that until we start believing that others are worth our time and investment, we, as a society, will continue to fall apart. A lot of people love Cleveland and want to see it renewed. I like to think I'm near the front of that line of well-wishers. But we'll never see it happen, Cleveland, if we keep believing that the majority of our city is "rough" and doesn't deserve our time. This city isn't just sports teams and restaurants. It's people. Believing in Cleveland isn't believing in some ethereal sense of civic pride from Strongsville. It's believing that everyone in Cuyahoga county has inherent value- from the poorest person at the corner of Carnegie and east 45th to the richest person on Lake Road in Bay Village- and living, breathing, acting, as if that is true.
-Zack
"In our weakness help us see
That alone we'll never be
Lifting any burdens off our shoulders"
-Jars of Clay
Thursday, October 27, 2011
The amount of necessary objective truths I believe in now is significantly smaller than it was when I entered college. I think though, that Earl Grey tea is best enjoyed in the afternoon- and I believe that to be objectively true.
I realize that's a terrible first line for my first post in well over a month. I hate that it's been a month; my most recent post was, of course, on the break-up of R.E.M. It was, literally, the first month of my life that they didn't exist.
That happens though, when you're younger than all of your favorite bands. Anymore, only the Red Hot Chili Peppers still make new music. It's not what it used to be, but I'd generally rather listen to their new stuff than the majority of the other things that actually get played on the hit radio stations. I'm not even opposed to pop music the way other people can be- I actually appreciate Lady Gaga quite a bit, and I can enjoy most hip-hop. But there's a poetry to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even in The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie, that other songs tend to lack.
Once they break up, I'll probably create a new top 5 of bands that formed post 1983. That's a random year, but it's the latest year any of the five formed (in order of formation: The Beatles (1959ish), Led Zeppelin (1968ish), R.E.M. (1980), The Smiths (1982), and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (1983). In actuality though, bands just aren't what they used to be- post-modernism saw to that. I still though, trust that the world is better for it.
I need to tell you about a book I'm reading; it's short, but it is magical. I'm not quite through- I will be soon, and I relish the opportunity to get back to it, hopefully later today. I'm learning how to write. Not like this, not simply by juxtapositioning words and creating shared shades of meaning. But how to actually live it; how to create, with words, the impression of my own soul that I've been chasing for years.
The book, you may have heard of it, is The Writing Life, by Annie Dillard. She's illuminating to me things I feel I've always known. She's drilling into my soul with a narrative that isn't narrating. I've sought, for years, the perfect narrative voice, free from artifice of plot and characterisation, driven by the goal to tell a frivolous story. I may have found it in Dillard. No word is wasted; no sentence useless. I guess, when they say opposite's attract, they're not lying.
I need to read her fiction as soon as I can; you do too, I imagine.
-Zack
"We'll never be short of redemption"
-Jars of Clay
I realize that's a terrible first line for my first post in well over a month. I hate that it's been a month; my most recent post was, of course, on the break-up of R.E.M. It was, literally, the first month of my life that they didn't exist.
That happens though, when you're younger than all of your favorite bands. Anymore, only the Red Hot Chili Peppers still make new music. It's not what it used to be, but I'd generally rather listen to their new stuff than the majority of the other things that actually get played on the hit radio stations. I'm not even opposed to pop music the way other people can be- I actually appreciate Lady Gaga quite a bit, and I can enjoy most hip-hop. But there's a poetry to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even in The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie, that other songs tend to lack.
Once they break up, I'll probably create a new top 5 of bands that formed post 1983. That's a random year, but it's the latest year any of the five formed (in order of formation: The Beatles (1959ish), Led Zeppelin (1968ish), R.E.M. (1980), The Smiths (1982), and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (1983). In actuality though, bands just aren't what they used to be- post-modernism saw to that. I still though, trust that the world is better for it.
I need to tell you about a book I'm reading; it's short, but it is magical. I'm not quite through- I will be soon, and I relish the opportunity to get back to it, hopefully later today. I'm learning how to write. Not like this, not simply by juxtapositioning words and creating shared shades of meaning. But how to actually live it; how to create, with words, the impression of my own soul that I've been chasing for years.
The book, you may have heard of it, is The Writing Life, by Annie Dillard. She's illuminating to me things I feel I've always known. She's drilling into my soul with a narrative that isn't narrating. I've sought, for years, the perfect narrative voice, free from artifice of plot and characterisation, driven by the goal to tell a frivolous story. I may have found it in Dillard. No word is wasted; no sentence useless. I guess, when they say opposite's attract, they're not lying.
I need to read her fiction as soon as I can; you do too, I imagine.
-Zack
"We'll never be short of redemption"
-Jars of Clay
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Collapse into Forever
2011 has been a veritable music armageddon for me. One of my top 5 bands broke up this past week, and one of my very close outliers broke up a few months back. (the top 5, in no particular order is The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Smiths, R.E.M., and The Red Hot Chili Peppers) I posted about the White Stripes when that happened. I couldn't not post about R.E.M.
I'm a little young to be a true R.E.M. fan. They formed a few years before I was even born. But that doesn't mean I haven't listened to everything they put out over and over again, entranced with their poetry and tact alongside honest expression of human experience, while, all the while, carrying the torch for progressive change despite the political apathy most music (especially in their genre) slid into after 1975.
Their final album, which I just heard straight through for the first time a few weeks ago, isn't their best. It's not even their fifth best. R.E.M. hasn't released anything as good as Monster since Monster and they haven't released a single track as good as the worst track on Automatic For the People (Monty got a Raw Deal) since Electron Blue.
But even so, Electron Blue exists.
There was, there will always be, something inspiring, critical, dangerous and seductive about R.E.M.'s music. There is a message of despondent hope, buried deep inside their overall ouvre that will forever remain unique to their sound. I'm content with the fifteen albums they released. If they only released Everybody Hurts, Losing My Religion, End of the World, and What's the Frequency Kenneth, they'd be a top 20 band in my mind with those 4 songs. But they have so much more. The One I Love is the realest, most succinct and glorious love song ever recorded, and I don't know that that will ever change.
There is a wanderer in the R.E.M. listener. Something longing, yearning, pining for a deeper, more honest, more useful existence. There is hope and tranquility, but it is otherwordly.
It does sadden my spirit, to know that Collapse into Now, a mostly boring album will be the last thing they ever release. But on the other side of that, I am thankful for all R.E.M. was and will be in me, for me, forever.
Soak into this video, let it soak into you, and ponder when, if ever, a band like this will come again:
Someday, perhaps, we'll all find our river.
-Zack
"3 and a half minutes felt like a lifetime"
-Better than Ezra
I'm a little young to be a true R.E.M. fan. They formed a few years before I was even born. But that doesn't mean I haven't listened to everything they put out over and over again, entranced with their poetry and tact alongside honest expression of human experience, while, all the while, carrying the torch for progressive change despite the political apathy most music (especially in their genre) slid into after 1975.
Their final album, which I just heard straight through for the first time a few weeks ago, isn't their best. It's not even their fifth best. R.E.M. hasn't released anything as good as Monster since Monster and they haven't released a single track as good as the worst track on Automatic For the People (Monty got a Raw Deal) since Electron Blue.
But even so, Electron Blue exists.
There was, there will always be, something inspiring, critical, dangerous and seductive about R.E.M.'s music. There is a message of despondent hope, buried deep inside their overall ouvre that will forever remain unique to their sound. I'm content with the fifteen albums they released. If they only released Everybody Hurts, Losing My Religion, End of the World, and What's the Frequency Kenneth, they'd be a top 20 band in my mind with those 4 songs. But they have so much more. The One I Love is the realest, most succinct and glorious love song ever recorded, and I don't know that that will ever change.
There is a wanderer in the R.E.M. listener. Something longing, yearning, pining for a deeper, more honest, more useful existence. There is hope and tranquility, but it is otherwordly.
It does sadden my spirit, to know that Collapse into Now, a mostly boring album will be the last thing they ever release. But on the other side of that, I am thankful for all R.E.M. was and will be in me, for me, forever.
Soak into this video, let it soak into you, and ponder when, if ever, a band like this will come again:
Someday, perhaps, we'll all find our river.
-Zack
"3 and a half minutes felt like a lifetime"
-Better than Ezra
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