"Rebellion without truth is like spring
in a bleak, arid desert."
-Kahlil Gibran

I just came back from a quick surf over to the USS Clueless, where Mr. Den Beste has hashed out a few decent observations on truth and independent thought, as well as behaviors that are often confused for these two things. He asserts that automatic opposition to a particular person or ideology doesn't make you independent of them. It's a useful point that a lot of people miss, especially in these times, when people, tied to one philosophy or another, dogmatically embrace or reject specific notions based not on merit, but rather based on who issues the ideas.

The Bible has a related story about a man having to be told the proper course of action by his donkey (Numbers Chapter 21), something which always illustrated to me that we ought to be attentive to the truth whenever it is spoken, regardless of the speaker. Anyway, I suggest the Den Beste piece for anyone wanting to get the full idea of what I'm trying to say.

"This Is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams

-that should occupy your attention for a good 10-12 seconds.

As an aside, I made the executive decision to incorporate a link to poetry in my Friday posts, thereby substantiating the title "Poetry Friday." This first offering, though not my absolute favorite, is one of the all-timers from one of America's great poets. In truth, I wanted to cheat and copy the poem right onto this page, but I do know better, so hopefully you'll visit the link. All I'm trying to do is push poetry on the rest of you, and not just the stuff on my site, but real poems too. Enjoy...

P.S. > Okay, apparently someone else in the blog community came up with the idea to post poetry on this particular day, but I swear I wasn't in on it. I originally wanted to do the poetry thing on Thursday, but I got lazy and didn't quite get around to it, so it only looks like I was following the pack in this instance.

In my haze last weekend, I completely to forgot to relate a brief account from a meeting I attended.

As part of my livelihood, I am a member of a labor union. As such, I attend periodic membership meetings (usually once a month), where I and several dozen other union members discuss how our local union is conducting business. Anyone who has ever attended such meetings has a clear notion of what I'm referring to. For the uninitiated, the experience is a little harder to describe, so I apologize in advance.

In our regular monthly union meeting this past weekend, a woman in attendance raised this issue, regarding organized labor's support of John Kerry in the upcoming Presidential election: Is it really a good thing to support the removal of our President in a time of war?

My initial reaction included a handful of incredulous thoughts. For instance, why even bother having elections in times of national conflict or crisis? If only the citizens had understood this concept when the electorate booted out Jimmy Carter in 1980; didn't they understand the harm to our nation's welfare that we were doing by showing any sort of disapproval of our leader while those hostages were in play? Don't those pesky Democrats and independents understand that the machinery of democracy is only meant as window dressing in times like this? Won't votes against a sitting President only strengthen the cause of terror?

Come to think of it, I don't really know, but in a time when our President (the one whose removal would signal victory for terrorists) has embraced the cause of democracy as though it were the only value worth having, shouldn't we take heed of his message and let our votes indicate that we are more than mere sheep? I don't mean to unfairly castigate anyone who happens to think the way this woman at our union meeting does, but whoever you support, that should be the person for whom you vote. The last thing our country needs is a false showing in a time of crisis -- something like the "elections" that were taking place in Iraq, the ones in which Saddam Hussein received 100% approval.

I guess the fact that someone had the conviction to display such a notion in the midst of people who are (quite reasonably) thought of as fierce Democrats, that impressed me a little. But I'm still not buying the theory that we should somehow "throw" the election just to show those terrorists and insurgents a thing or two.

(I'm trying to set a personal record for title length...)

My brother-in-law has been writing music for some lyrics lately. He's told me that he even took some of the poems off the site to put music to them, along with one lyric I wrote specifically for the purpose of being set to music. I should be receiving a tape of said music in the next day or so. I'm anxious to hear what can be done with some of the words I've written when placed in the hands of someone with actual musical talent. I guess I'll have more on that in a couple days?

Speaking of my bro-in-law, I just came across an entry in Cziltang's journal about a small handful of semi-independent topics, among them are the V-chip and one of my favorite songs ever since I saw Oh Brother Where Art Thou. It was a delightful little post that I recommend to everyone -- it kind of carries on the line of thought pertaining to the need for FCC salvation. Cziltang uses a line in his post that I should have probably used by now when he writes "Yes, I know I'm speculating here, but if you wanted research, you would be at a different web page..."

And in other, more self-involved news, I received a healthy dose of email response from the past two entries (as I expect when dealing with such an, um, inspirational topic), but not a single person has yet used my new commenting system. Just an observation; I'm not sure how I feel about that, as I'm perfectly happy to receive and respond to the limited email I receive. I just thought it would be easier for folks to comment (it just seems quicker).

Well, that's all for this morning. Carry on...

"I have trouble with the persons with the signs,
but I feel the need to make my own."
-King's X

I've been literarily tongue-tied over the past couple days -- mostly because I've been wanting to expand on a previous topic, but I've been desperate to do so in a respectful and non-condescending manner. But I suppose there will be those who are bound to take offense on certain subjects, no matter which side I stake claim to.

People who know me will not confuse me for a George W. Bush supporter, at least not in this lifetime; nor will I be mistaken for a neo-conservative. But there are issues I see differently from the way other people see them -- I tend to make up my own mind, albeit with vast environmental input, so I end up crossing lines and defying labels depending on which topics are up for discussion. I guess it's that I tend to see a slightly different version, or picture, of things than some people do, and I base my philosophy on these perceptions.

The subject that has troubled me over the past few days has been the abortion-related festivities in our nation's capital this past weekend. I support the right to life, but this may not mean what some people assume about folks who call themselves pro-life. I oppose the death penalty. And I oppose the casual use of abortion as a method of birth control. I don't stop my belief in promoting life at that simple juncture. I also believe in the Christian philosophy that we need to care for each other, and care how we treat each other. In other words, promoting the sanctity of life doesn't mean just making sure the baby makes it out of the womb intact; it also implies that we should care about the quality of life, passionately (that's the part that keeps me comfortably out of the Republican party).

In reading the thoughts expressed over on Glutter this morning, I was intrigued by something she said about the Washington women's rights rally not just being about abortion. While this is true, the simple fact is that women's rights rallies often revolve around abortion rights, as did this one. The thing that sticks with me is that people rally around the cause of abortion, which is no doubt why it tends to anchor most of these rallies. Our American ideal of freedom has always been predicated on the freedom to do, so long as our actions don't infringe on anyone else -- though admittedly, there have been some inconsistencies in the application of such an ideal; the legal right to an abortion is one glaring example.

The argument would be so much more abstract if it weren't for groups like NOW and NARAL staking such staunch opposition to legislation on partial birth abortion. It would be so much easier to sway the ambivalent throng (those who refuse to take a stand of any sort on this issue) if we were just dealing with nearly microscopic embryos in their first few weeks, but when a fetus has become fully distinguishable, and practically viable, uninvested observers tend to have much less sympathy for the cause of putting down what they can easily tell is a human baby.

On the other issues, ones related to actual health, safety and overall humane treatment of any group of human beings, including women, I am completely on board. However, when we get into legal measures that go against every bit of medical common sense, such as attempts to strike down parental consent for minors, or opposition to measures that would ask doctors to go to the same trouble they would for any other invasive medical procedure, I don't understand why any so-called women's rights group would want women making hasty or uninformed decisions about a procedure that has historically had lifelong complications, even in "safe and legal" settings.

I bring up this particular issue because I know a specific story that relates to it. Back about ten years, I knew a girl in college whose younger sister became pregnant at 16. She wasn't half as scared of having a baby as she was of the shame of her parents finding out, but being a resident of Pennsylvania, she knew she couldn't get an abortion instate without having one of her parents' consent. She had a friend take her across the river to New Jersey (an extremely short drive), where a minor could get an abortion with no wait, and no parental consent.

The procedure was legal, and it was performed by a qualified, experienced doctor. She told us she only had to make one visit, and it was an in and out experience. But a few days later, she starting having some problems. She ended up being taken to the local ER by her mother, and from there she was admitted. She came out of the hospital, having learned a couple things. One of them was that her parents were probably more understanding than she expected them to be. The other thing was that she wished she had been better educated about the risks of any surgical procedure, let alone an abortion, because as a result of her safe and legal abortion, she was left without the capability to bear children, ever.

People reading this may say that's just one instance, and that most abortions don't have such lasting medical complications. Probably true, but it's probably also a comparable number to the amount of abortions that are sought due to rape, incest, or medical threats to the life of an expectant mother. Anyone who can live with even that small number and talk glowingly about "safe and legal" abortions, probably isn't looking at the same picture as I am.

Well, it took me long enough, but I finally got around to figuring out how to allow direct comments on my entries. I'm using the services available from backBlog (link in sidebar). It's probably unnecessary, as I've received most of my feedback through the email link on the Smedley Drafts home page, but a few of those email comments have included suggestions to add commenting, so here it is. Visitors can even leave private comments.

We'll see if this actually takes the place of email commenting or not.

"We have a moral obligation to the women of America"
-Gloria Feldt
(president, Planned Parenthood Action Fund)

I'm not sure why I chose that exact line, except to draw attention to what I believe has become an increasingly absurd debate in American politics. The above quote appears in this CNN article, referring to John Kerry's affirmation of his commitment to what is usually called the issue of "choice."

In another CNN article, dealing more with the Vatican's position on pro-choice politicians receiving communion, there's an even better set of quotes. In one reference, Frances Kissling, president of Catholics for a Free Choice, called efforts to forbid John Kerry from receiving communion the politicization of the sacraments. She went on to say that "the Vatican has consistently shown itself to misunderstand the American principle of separation of church and state." Such a statement exemplifies one of the most common misconceptions associated with our so-called "separation of church and state." The founders were not attempting to muzzle religious expression, but rather to keep government from exerting influence over religious issues. In this instance, there seem to be a number of secular entities trying to exert influence over matters in which the church has a right to sovereignty.

But more to the point, I think the issue isn't separation of church and state; it's whether or not people who have selected their church are going to buy into what comes part and parcel with that spiritual choice: In other words, "if you don't like the rules, why join the club?"

But perhaps the best line in the article on the Vatican position comes from candidate Kerry himself:

"I fully intend to practice my religion as separate from what I do with respect to my public life."

I'm not sure about John Kerry, but I always thought this was the whole point about having religious beliefs: that we live by them, in public and private. There is no risk, no commitment, involved, if we only espouse our "beliefs" when we feel like it, or when it's politically expedient. The idea that religious beliefs have no place in your day-to-day life may make sense, if your personal belief system dictates that you not let your beliefs interfere with how you live your life -- but then why bother having a belief structure, or principles of any kind, if they can just be suspended on a whim?

Unfortunately for John Kerry, Catholicism really doesn't beg to be left behind when you leave the church doors. Frances Kissling spoke about not wanting to "politicize sacraments," yet she doesn't appear to take any issue with a politician politicizing his faith, so to speak, which is what Kerry may or may not be doing by clinging to his "Catholicism," even if only nominally. Let's face it, calling yourself a Catholic (when you can get a way with it) can carry a measure of political clout -- should a candidate be allowed to play the Catholic card if he doesn't really buy into the teachings of the church?

P.S. - Even though I'm not Catholic, I find these sorts of stories disturbing, in that people espousing the idea that the secular and religious worlds stay separate are, in effect, trying to pressure the religious sector regarding an internal church matter, which communion clearly is. Just for the record, I personally think the church is being a little inconsistent in not issuing the same type of moratorium on giving communion to Catholic candidates who support our imperfect version of capital punishment, but that would only be another strike against John Kerry.

"In sports we have a tendency to overuse terms like courage and bravery and heroes..."
-Michael Bidwill
(Arizona Cardinals vice-president)

I remember the inspirational story of Pat Tillman from a couple years ago. Pat Tillman was the NFL starting safety who walked away from a 3.6 million dollar contract to join the army. He was killed in action in Afghanistan Thursday evening.

He left behind more than just the fame and fortune that comes with being a star NFL player in his prime; he also left behind a new bride. He felt a conviction to join the struggle against terror, and he followed that conviction with action. We do have a tendency to overuse terms like courage, bravery and hero, but Pat Tillman exemplified those words in a way that few modern athletes ever will.

"You could live in the shadows.
You could call them your friends,
but then all they'll allow you
are some scantily-clad skeletons."
-Vigilantes of Love

Cziltang has some thoughts on mental illness in the world of corrections. I found them useful and thought I'd pass the suggestion to read them, as I think many of his observations have broader applications than just in the world of corrections, and I don't think many of us take issues of mental illness seriously enough.

And here's where my continuation of the band-aid syndrome comes into play. It's not just about mental illness, though that issue alone can provide startling examples of how dangerous it can be to focus on treating symptoms, as opposed to treating actual causes.

A co-worker of mine once mused that the management in our company had a bad habit of applying band-aids to situations that entailed much more damage than a mere band-aid could fix. It's occurred to me many times since that this superficial approach to problem-solving is unfortunately too prevalent in our great American society.
I notice many situations where our politicians embrace incredibly temporary fixes to some of our most enduring human plights. One common (and, in some circles, controversial) observation I've begun making in the past year or so is that as unpalatable as most Americans find the prospect of doing away with Social Security as we know it, that is probably the only real path to solving the steadily creeping crisis of funding it. Yet no politician I've seen seems to be brave enough to endorse the cold reality. Never mind that a slow phase out (over say, the next 30 to 40 years) would allow a lot of the younger workers entering the workforce to prepare more responsibly and capably for their own futures, while weaning us slowly off the ever-drying nipple of this huge entitlement program. The reality, as the boomers hit retirement, is that the younger workers now paying the bulk of Social Security and Medicare's income will never see a red cent of the funds they're paying in. It's a financially unsound strategy, but precious few leaders are strong enough to admit it in public.

Retirement funding is just one example. There are so many other areas where elected officials are simply afraid to address realistic, lasting solutions to lasting problems. And while I suppose many constituents may not have much patience for the complication or the potential pain of long-term fixes, I'd like to see that rare, brave politician who's willing to try telling us the truth, instead of what we want to hear.

In some cases, it's more about what holds our attention than what we want to hear. In other words, some topics, however necessary, bore society's masses, so our consciousness doesn't even get dented by them. I think mental illness, as noted in the linked posts from Cziltang, is one such cause.

Mental illness is much more pervasive in our society than most people realize. The saddest part of this lack of awareness is that there are many folks who buy into dated stigmas regarding psychiatric and psychological disorders who might otherwise be diagnosed themselves, and this isn't even noting those who would seek treatment if only they had the means to afford it.

Though Cziltang's posts seem to focus on those with mental disorders that manifest through violence, it is often the case that the more violent stages of an disorder can be staved off through treatment -- but alas, we tend to only address mental illness (in individuals) after it has basically smacked society over the head, at which point treatment is much more expensive and difficult.

I think at this point, I should leave any further discussion of mental illness to those vastly more qualified than I. I simply wanted to address it and possibly raise the thought in someone else's mind also -- there's little that saddens me more than great societal ills being made worse by the band-aid syndrome.

"The sea, it swells like a sore hand,
and the night is aching."
-U2

I'm currently basking in the glow of a NyQuil-induced stupor.

I don't normally resort to actual cough medicine, but this week has turned exceptional, in terms of cold-suffering severity, so on my way home last night (just a couple hours ago, actually), I caved in to my desire for a full night's sleep, and I bought a bottle of this alcoholic elixir.

I normally avoid such pseudo-remedies in my attempts to outlive the common (and even not-so-common) cold, mainly because I indignantly cling to the notion that such measures are merely stopgap, and therefore, they fit into a phenomenon I have come to refer to as "the band-aid syndrome" (which will be promptly discussed in fairly vague detail (especially if this stuff really starts kicking in, as I feel it might). And I've never liked taking things to dull my senses, unless the senses become unpleasant enough for me to compromise my beliefs -- call me an infidel; I don't much care right now anyway.

I came across a two day old article entitled "Pennsylvania swing voters like Bush but not his war" on CNN.com. I couldn't resist reading it, mostly because I am a Pennsylvania swing voter. I found it curious, in that it had a panel of prospective voters answering such important questions as what a weekend would be like with each of the major Presidential candidates. Bush won hands-down; apparently John Kerry just doesn't strike many people as very good company -- even of those who didn't seem to care too much for the President.

I find it interesting that we're still talking so much about likeability in American politics, especially in the "battleground states" like Pennsylvania. How does it even begin to matter which candidate voters think they would have more fun with over the weekend? (I knew some pretty fun people in my youth, but I wouldn't necessarily trust any of them to run the country.)

But to be fair, the President also got high marks from many simply for his decisive nature, though some recognized that being decisive didn't exempt him from errors in judgment. I also find good decision-making skills to be vital to good leadership, but like some people in the CNN sample group, I would like to put the emphasis on making good decisions, as opposed to simply being decisive.

Which isn't to suggest that I know John Kerry to be any wiser on important strategic or policy issues, but I'd like to get the feeling major decisions aren't simply the products of knee-jerk responses.

"But we unleashed a lion..."
-Pearl Jam

It was the afternoon of Saturday, April 17, 1999. Two things happened, as I recall clearly. One was the drafting of Donovan McNabb by the Philadelphia Eagles with the second overall pick in the NFL draft. The other was the wedding of an old friend of mine, and the ensuing reception at Braddock's Tavern in Medford, New Jersey. Both events got a passing grade in my book, thanks especially to an excellent Norwegian grilled salmon.

The entire reception was enjoyable, and we all got to see off my old friend and her new groom as they departed on their way to Denver (a honeymoon destination choice I never quite understood, but they seemed to think it was a good idea).

The rest of the weekend flew by, and the workweek began again. At the time, I was working two jobs. In addition to my regular gig, I was also working part-time driving a newspaper truck in the wee hours of the morning. I remember getting off work at the newspaper plant around six o'clock Tuesday morning that week. Being ravenously hungry, I stopped at Burger King on the way home that morning.

I went up to the counter to order one of those unhealthy, yet equally tasty breakfast sandwiches from an unusually pleasant assistant manager named Melissa (funny the things I remember, having never seen her since). I remember thinking as I ate the sandwich, wondering why the young woman at the counter seemed so pleasant, then wondering how my newlywed friends were enjoying their honeymoon trip to Denver. I went home and got a few hours of sleep (my other job wasn't starting until later in the afternoon).

I remember the news that afternoon, as I turned on the television while getting ready for work, and I guess I didn't quite know what to make of it, as anyone watching news reports at the time may recall being inundated with all sorts of speculation. I remember what I was thinking right off the bat, as soon as I heard the basics of the situation: two students just went into school that day and started shooting. I thought somebody got pushed a little too far.

And I guess we'll never know what those two boys were thinking, but I wonder (quite often) what causes people to take such senseless courses of action. Just driving to work on a typical day, I can expect to see at least a dozen examples of unnecessarily aggressive behavior all around me. The whole world seems to be getting more aggressive, more in-your-face, and I'm sure it's not a good thing. I wonder if people even notice their behavior slipping toward the ridiculous; I know I've caught myself acting like a child on occasion, though I'd like to think of such occasions as exceptional.

Anyway, that's what comes to mind when I remember things like the massacre at Columbine. But that's just one of the memories from five years ago. The other one results in a happy, belated congratulations to a couple friends who just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary -- sorry to have lost it in the haze of morbid recollection.

Well, I took another vacation from writing in the blog this weekend, but there were other things to do. One thing I did was go to my first baseball game in a brand new stadium (though the folks in the Phillies front office would prefer I call it a "ballpark"). It was fun, the home team won, and I got to see what clean ball park rest rooms look (and smell) like, though I don't suspect the cleanliness will last for long.

You wouldn't think I'd have to pay so much for a few tickets to a baseball game, considering how much we Pennsylvania taxpayers have already contributed toward the construction of this new structure. But who am I kidding? I'll be going down to catch baseball games as often as my schedule allows. I am, after all, a sucker for the local sports teams, especially when they're winning.

"I write at the far corner of counters... on a stool at all-night coffee shops in the San Fernando Valley.
Just some white paper and the land inside my head."
-William F. Nolan

The quote above had nothing to do with my original train of thought when I sat down to write this entry, but I got sidetracked by a friend's journal entry coupled with something she mentioned in an email a little while back. She mentioned that I wrote something that reminded her of a common experience from her past, namely a predilection towards spending time in coffee shops with pen and paper, and as Mr. Nolan might have put it, the land inside her head. I wonder if that's something a lot of people know about her…

I always liked the quote for the same reason, that it takes me back to countless hours spent in nearly deserted coffee-selling establishments, though I've never been to the San Fernando Valley. And sometimes I would have characterized the real estate in my head as more of a vacant lot, and possibly for a lack of caffeine. Oddly enough, though I often gravitate toward coffeehouse environments, I generally avoid coffee in favor of tea (which does on occasion have caffeine also, but mostly not).

I recall the days of sitting in a now-defunct coffeehouse in the Manayunk section of Philadelphia. Sometimes I was alone; other times I was with friends, most of the times I went with friends, one of them was Bob. I always envied Bob's strange ability to come up with the sort of droll thoughts that rarely would occur to me, but I'd often wish they had after hearing Bob express them. If you read some of his short stories, you may see what I mean.

I've long felt short on the creative part of creative writing. I see other people, like Bob, who seem able to effortlessly offer clever quips without a moment's hesitation. I always felt a little slower in that department. I think maybe the difference is his fearlessness in saying things that just pop into his head, while I have an almost unnatural tendency to edit things before I say them -- though I doubt I'd sound nearly as clever, even if I was as free with my words as he's always been.

I consistently find people who meet Bob through me are equally fascinated by him. But getting back to the mental landscape descriptions, while I tend to picture the land inside my head as something of a traditional farm pasture, maybe with a few cows in the frame, I tend to believe Bob's head contains entire cities, bustling with various forms of life and colorful characters.

Anyway, I think I've done what I set out to do, in my own covert way. I believe I have now answered the three questions contained in my far-off friend's online journal, including posting the results, though not in such a straightforward way. And I actually found it more interesting to write about than the world/political commentary I was going to write for today. (Incidentally, I think it's a very good thing that nobody in the EU seems naïve enough to take up the bin Laden truce offer -- I'd like to think that was a no-brainer.)

I don't usually post in the cold light of day, but I was just peaking in a joint news conference with U.S. President George W. Bush and British P.M. Tony Blair. I was getting wistful yet again, thinking back to my write-in post, and watching the two leaders, side-by-side.

It was interesting, and a bit sad in contrast, to watch the Prime Minister seem to actually put words in spaces normally relegated to "ummm" and "uh" when Mr. Bush was talking.

It brought back the other night, during the President's prime time press conference when he was asked why he and Vice President Cheney were going to appear together before the 9/11 Commission. The questioner obviously wanted to know why they needed to appear together, but the President either missed the point or didn't want to address that question, choosing instead to answer the more general question of why he and the Vice President were appearing at all. (To which I'm sorry to respond, but, duh?) And I recall one other point in the prime time press conference with the President being asked if he could think of any mistakes he had made or things he might have done differently -- as he stumbled through his words for almost an entire minute, I half expected him to crack a joke about trading Sammy Sosa when he owned the Texas Rangers.

Anyway, back to today joint's news conference and the contrast in oratory skill between President Bush and his British counterpart, I was just wondering, can we trade now?

"Fame is the thirst of youth."
-Lord Byron

I was just watching the news (yes, I know it's a filthy habit), when I heard another mention of Iraq's clerical boy wonder Muqtada al-Sadr. I wasn't sure I heard the report right when they referred to him as only being 31 years old. So I dialed up his name on Google, where I found one particular news post that has him at 31, at the oldest, but possibly as young as 22 (with the extra years added on to give him an air of maturity). How I cringe...

I admit it shames me a bit, because I'm also 31, and I don't have nearly as much to show for it as the young Shiite Muslim does. Sure, his ascension to power and prominence seems to have been facilitated by two high profile murders in which it appears he may have been complicit, but what charisma!

If he is 31, then it makes me feel somehow like I'm just not doing enough with my life. On the other hand, if he's only 22, then I'm way behind schedule; but also, I suppose it's a bit unnerving that a 22 year-old can command so much of the world spotlight, not to mention the energies of the U.S. military. I'm just not sure any 22 year-old should have that much unilateral influence over major strategic or policy decisions, except maybe in student government.

I'm not saying this to disparage 22 year-old's -- I remember 22 quite well. That's when I was under the influence of that mysterious drug that left me believing I actually knew everything (-youth, I think they called it). And nine years later, I still don't know it all; the one lesson I keep learning over time is the reality of how little I knew before. And in that way, the truth just keeps changing.

"You move in slow degrees,
a sudden memory -
- You're a Leonard Cohen song..."
-Better than Ezra

I wrote an entry almost two weeks ago that a few readers seemed to think was fairly sad. And it was. I responded to a couple queries about the entry, and I think I may have come off as someone who takes some sort of pleasure in dwelling on sadness.

While that's not exactly how it works, I must confess I do get something out of expressing sadness, whether it be realistic or conceptual. I was reading some things on Flannery O'Connor recently, as he was a writer who seemed to spend a great deal of his career trudging through some profoundly depressing subject matter. There was an excellent quote that summed up a good bit of his theory on why he dwelled in such literary tones, but I can't seem to find it now.

Suffice it to say, I think there are sad subjects that, at least in my view, don't have any other use than to bring everyone down. But there are also those inherently depressing ideas that can be used to motivate more positive action, as cautionary tales, if you will. But maybe it's just a simple question of taste.

For instance, I have enjoyed some truly depressing themes, whether in music, film, literature, or real life. It may just be a connection with common human conditions and emotions. Perhaps I like to be reminded that we all have something in common. Maybe it was the first time I heard a sad song on the radio and felt like the writer knew something about my own sense of suffering. "Sad songs, they say so much," as Elton John once crooned. And I think there are many other mediums for art to strike our bittersweet (if not just bitter) chords.

I never liked running from the things that disturbed me that way, so maybe that's the difference in taste right there -- that I actually couldn't resist dissecting my past defeats and inner demons, even when I might have preferred to.

I wrote (in one of my long-lost blog entries) that people who try to create any kind of art are, in many ways, cannibalizing their own human experience. And this is true even when we're writing about other people, or conditions we don't know first-hand.

But then again, I could just be trying to justify my own addiction.

"A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act."

"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."
-Mahatma Gandhi

Yesterday was Easter, and I wanted to say something profound about it, but as I've already suggested, most of the really profound thoughts were slipping through my helpless grasp. Still, I noticed in other people's blogs (more than a few) some disparaging remarks about organized religion in general, Christianity in particular. I can sympathize with the idea that organized religious structures are often tedious, sometimes cruelly so, but I think a lot of people out there who disparage religion in general are looking at the human-run institutions and not really seeing the original concepts so well. To be fair, sometimes the faithful are their own worst representatives when communicating their beliefs.

As a Christian, I've had my own doubts about the often inefficient structure with which some of us attempt to drown our own faith. And while I still don't have all the answers, I came to the conclusion long ago that a leader doesn't necessarily deserve to be judged by the mistakes of those who follow. The best teacher in the world will still have students who don't quite get it. It strikes me that Christianity is often judged by observing the errant humans who attempt its practice.

One precursor to my belief structure is that God gave us all free will, rather than imposing His own will on us. This means that no matter how well we're instructed, we are still prone to misjudge and act in discord with His will, even if we profess to follow that will.

At one time, I harbored my own dissatisfaction with many of the people who claimed to be Christian representatives. I had to sort through a lot of ideas myself, until I realized that the only true measure of what it means to be a Christian lies in the example set by Christ himself. Hence, if we profess to follow Christ, we should treat our fellow human beings (even the least of them) as though they were Christ Himself. And we should always, always practice love for our fellow humans, as that was the clearest, most consistent theme in the life of the man we're calling our leader.

If Christ said, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," then I shouldn't be the first to find fault with everyone else, unless I happen to be that rare picture of perfection. Christ claimed He didn't come into the world to condemn it, so neither should I.

Sadly, many people who disparage Christianity can't be blamed for the misconceptions they have -- it is often those who are supposed to reflect the best of Christian principles who get caught up in condemning people they perceive as sinful, all the while forgetting that the pride and condemnation they harbor are equal sins to any they might be condemning.

(Forgive me -- I fear I may come off as a little self-righteous myself sometimes, and my list of tips is incomplete, but I think these are common Christian shortcomings that at one time or another pushed me away a little, so I'm sure that non-Christians might be somewhat irked by these things as well.)

"I wrote a song, but I can't read music. Every time I hear a new song on the radio I think, 'Hey, maybe I wrote that.'"
-Steven Wright

My mind's been racing these past few days, and as I have mentioned here before, that can make for the most treacherous writing conditions. Lately it's like thoughts are flying right out of my head, and I'm afraid all the best ones escape before I can close the door -- like a child trying to net a single decent butterfly when there are a thousand moths flying around his head.

I wrote one lyric over the past several days, but I don't know how it turned out yet -- I have to leave that to more objective eyes than mine.

I didn't have anything compelling or incisive to offer this afternoon, but I have been meaning to mention one of our local Philadelphia icons for a couple weeks now -- I wanted to preserve this mention for a Saturday, in case anyone out there within range is interested in listening to a particular show about movies.

"Steve Friedman is Mr. Movie and he plays in Philadelphia Saturday nights on the Big Talker 1210 AM." - So begins his capsulated bio on the 1210 AM website. Mr. Movie is a title he reminds listeners he didn't give to himself -- he is known by the title because he has an eerily encyclopedic memory when it comes to movies. I once called his show just to find out the name of a movie, when all I could recall about it was a scene with a woman in a phone booth being threatened by a man lighting matches. Thanks to him, I found out the name of the film was Charade, a movie he reminded me was often called "the best suspense movie Hitchcock never made."

He holds court with the callers for three hours a week, starting at 10 every Saturday night. He's surprisingly non-judgmental for someone who knows so much about movies, and especially for someone who's made a living as a critic -- that is to say, he never makes his callers sound stupid, no matter how much he disagrees with their taste in cinema.

He's unofficially syndicated, as his station's 50,000 watt signal can be heard in parts of 38 states and much of Canada. I used to think this was an empty boast, until I tuned into the same Philly talk station while driving through Illinois a few summers back.

So I guess it's a bit of a suggestion, if you're into movies, and you're in one of those many places where his voice can reach you through the night air. You can turn the knob to 1210 on the AM dial around 10 pm (EDT), if you're curious, and you may be able to catch a dose of the longest continuously-running radio talk show about movies.

The above quote is from one of the 11 lessons from the life of Robert McNamara, as conveyed in The Fog of War.

Condaleezza Rice gave her testimony before the commission yesterday, and reactions were mixed. I followed quite a bit of it, enough to make a basic observation.

Dr. Rice, while a very intelligent person, had trouble masking her segues. At more than one juncture she brazenly admitted that she was going off-topic. On one occasion she was being more or less badgered for a direct answer to one question about whether she had met with the President on a specific issue during a specific time period. She insisted on explaining a peripheral issue first, promising that she would get around to answering the actually question. She eventually did get around to answering the original "yes" or "no" question by confessing that she couldn't recall if she had a meeting like the one referred to in the original question. After hearing her ramble, I found myself wondering exactly what did everything else she'd said have to do with her not remembering if she'd had a certain meeting?

Her intelligence notwithstanding, I wasn't totally impressed, as some people were, with her testimony. I really wish I had seen something more coherent. To me, her performance justified Bob Graham's remarks that she was "very effective in taking a question and then elaborating on issues that are largely irrelevant to the question in order to chew up the clock" -- a strange observation from someone who's based a career upon similar skills.

But it was, as many have pointed out, an historic occasion to have a sitting National Security Advisor under oath in a public hearing. And one other thing I know I wasn't alone in noticing is, despite all the White House's bluster regarding Richard Clarke, Condaleezza Rice gave no testimony to clearly contradict Clarke's.

In contemplating how this could be, I'm resigned to accept that while the President doesn't "do nuance," he obviously has been surrounding himself with folks who do.

"Liberals should not overplay this weapons of mass destruction card, because you want me to tell you the truth? Most of us are not going to care if they don't find these weapons of mass destruction. It's enough for a lot of us to see those kids smiling on that street again."
- Dennis Miller

I was dwelling on the concept of viruses for a little longer, and I started thinking about how the violence in Iraq has spread, almost like a social contagion.

Fresh on the heels of some high-profile criticism from the likes of Senator Edward Kennedy, as political opponents trade jabs on how much or how little the current situation reminds them of the Vietnam conflict. And I suppose the more blood spills, the less enchanted we all feel with the way things are going. I don't care if you're the most ardent supporter of the current military effort, you'd have to be inhuman not to feel tremendously saddened by the loss of life.

And so many of the lost lives are those of the young, so many of them are still in that phase of life I passed by a few years ago, the stage where anything's possible and you still haven't been convinced of your own mortality. Yes, I am reminded of the very realistic statements in defense of the coalition, most fresh in my mind is one by Senator John McCain, who pointed out that six hundred American service people is no drop in the bucket, but that the Vietnam conflict had individual weeks during which we lost that many people. Still, it's little consolation to say we're only lingering around 1% of the losses we suffered in Vietnam (just using the word "only" is uncomfortable here). I don't want to even remotely suggest that 600 soldiers being sent to early graves is anything but a national tragedy, especially not to people who will be saddled with the heart-wrenching pain of losing a child, sibling, mate or parent.

It seems the picture that some painted so rosy a few short months ago -- that picture has gone from rosy to blood red. And I know the picture is not really as hopeless as those who mourn have every right to feel, but my confidence wavers at times, as I think about Gandhi's line:

"What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?"

"I think computer viruses should count as life.
I think it says something about human nature
that the only form of life we have created so far is purely destructive.
We've created life in our own image."
-Stephen W. Hawking

I'd like to tell the story of why the posting has been limited over the past couple days, but it isn't really that entertaining, so I'll break it down to a relative nutshell -- I promise it won't take half as long to read as I spent agonizing over the problem itself.

I noticed several problems with my computing speed in the past few days, and unfortunately, it had gotten much worse over the past 48 hours or so. So, like always, I decided to run frequent antiviral tests with my almost brand spanking new Horton Internet Security suite (I modified the name, so as not to unfairly besmirch the fine reputation of the company that relieved me of sixty bucks for the privilege of using its product). In repeated tests and several trips online to verify that I was using the absolute latest definitions from Horton's customer support site, my esteemed machine kept coming up with a clean bill of health. But alas, my computing troubles persisted and, in fact, got noticeably worse.

So, I visited several support forums, searching desperately for a ray of light to help me find some kind of solution. I came across more than one forum where recent posts had voiced great displeasure that their preferred antivirus solution (marketed as the "World's Most Trusted") had been missing infected items that were then being picked up by free online virus scans. Noticing that the offending antivirus in many of these posts just happened to share a name (which I still won't mention) with my recently purchased program, I decided to visit one of the online scanning sites and try to find out if there was something to these allegations.

Less than an hour later, I had my answer, and I was not happy in the least with the product I had acquired from Horton. There was not one, but two separate viruses on my machine, and Horton had no clue they were there. I then acquired an evaluation version of another relatively high profile antivirus and eventually repaired the damage, as well as I could. Now things appear to be working well again, finally...

As if I didn't feel swindled already, I was relating my security blunders to the tech support guy at work last night, and he expressed no surprise whatsoever. He actually told me that he wouldn't have recommended the Horton product if I had bothered to ask him prior to my recent purchase.

And now I wish I had asked him.

I usually avoid these little online quizzes, but I liked this one, for some strange reason.I found the link for this charming little quiz from Anthony's weBLOG, where he also has this equally charming bit of wit.

In an unrelated bit of annoyance, I've been trying to publish since the past twelve hours or so, but I couldn't get through until now -- some kind of problem with the almighty AT&T server.

"Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers.
My opinion is they don't stifle enough of them. There's many a bestseller that could have been prevented by a good teacher."
-Flannery O'Connor

I made a visit to the local Border's yesterday afternoon, while the rain and thunder tarried outside in the southeastern Pennsylvania sky. I spent a good bit of my time in the technology section, looking over instructional books on various web publishing topics.

In the course of browsing, I noticed an abundance of what I refer to as "Dummy Books." For the unaware, these are the volumes that have titles that either end in the words "...for Dummies," or they contain the words "Idiots Guide to..."

There are, of course, many more-or-less covertly titled books. You can usually spot them by keywords in their titles having to do with learning a skill in a certain number of "easy" lessons or steps. I am not badmouthing such learning resources, despite (and also because of) the fact I have never used one. In fact, I was seriously considering picking up the volume entitled HTML for Dummies yesterday.

But upon browsing the rest of the technology reference section, I came across one particularly curious entry: AOL for Dummies.

-Really -- Is that necessary?
Again, I don't want to be seen as disparaging the AOL crowd, but isn't a guidebook for using AOL a little bit redundant? I thought that was the whole point of AOL, to be user-friendly, kind of like cars that automatically turn the headlights on and off for you. Granted, if you ever go to another online service after a few years of AOL, you may well find you've been stripped of several online survival instincts (for which your new online service doesn't compensate). Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that was part of the reason that some twenty million Americans overpaid for their dial-up in the first place.

And again, I stress, I know not everyone using America Online is technologically illiterate. I have several acquaintances, friends even, who use AOL and are quite capable with a computer. I even understand that AOL offers a myriad of fringe benefits, such as enhanced community features, in addition to ease of use and security features.

And anyway, wouldn't it have been more useful to come up with a guide book to using MSN, or Earthlink, or any of the other services with fewer user-friendly qualities? (For all I know, there is such a book; I just don't have the time to search for it.) If there ever was an ISP that precluded the need for instructions, it has to be AOL. Oh, forget it.

I am testing out a couple new things here.

First, I have made a slight redesign to the drafts index page. And after tinkering with that for a while, I also decided to add three sidebar indices on this page, referencing entries in three general categories (storytelling, posts on writing and creativity, and sociopolitical commentary). These listings are now below the regular weekly archives.

I can't help it -- it's been a slow weekend so far.

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

On the shortest day of the year, it is once again the anniversary of the assassination of Dr. King. I just wanted to offer a reminder.

"We're here and now, but will we ever be again?
‘Cause I have found all that shimmers in this world
is sure to fade away again."
-Fuel

We met in front of the north face of City Hall that day. It was late January, but not very cold. We decided to have lunch at the Reading Terminal Market. While we ate and talked, she combed over the movie listings for a decent matinee. There were several playing that I would have been okay with seeing, but she spotted the new Julia Roberts movie, Sleeping with the Enemy, playing in Old City.

Our preferred show time was not for another hour, so we settled on a leisurely stroll of fifteen city blocks or so, east on Market to Second, then over a couple blocks south to the AMC just a stone's throw from Penn's Landing. We bought tickets, popcorn and soda, then meandered into the theater with about ten minutes to spare.
The movie was okay, just like the food had been, but I was distracted by what I had been contemplating saying to her, hopefully before the day was gone and another opportunity was missed.

I couldn't figure out why I was so anxious to speak my mind to her; She was the first girl I had ever felt entirely comfortable with. She was the first person whose compliments I had ever believed -- when she told me she liked certain things about me, I knew she meant it. And when I shared the thoughts I knew anyone else would laugh at, she never even hinted at disdain or disgust. Her acceptance of me and my ideas was one of the reasons I started trusting myself more. Her influence was a great part of what shifted my writing content from teen angst to more constructive observation.

The first time we met was a strange meeting. She was returning a black spiral bound notebook I had "lost" (I would later find out that she'd facilitated my misplacing it). The black notebook was about three quarters full with poems I'd written in a longhand I'm not sure most people could decipher. Upon returning it to my possession, she confessed to reading a few poems. In leafing through the book a little while later, I found a note on the first page I hadn't written on yet. It was about a half page long. In the note, she apologized and admitted to reading the whole book, and she went on to write some very encouraging words. She referred to the poems as being "lyrical, almost like you could hear the music that would accompany them." But her note also chided me for expressing the feeling that nobody would understand what I felt. She suggested that if I trusted other people more, I'd notice I'm not so alone. She also told me she'd like to show some of her poetry, and asked me to show her when I wrote more.

That was the beginning. From there, we spent countless hours on the phone and exchanged many personal writings. I came to see that she was a lot like me, in that many of our youthful experiences were similar. I admired her insight, always relevant, the reason I could tell that she was really paying attention to me. I liked the way she listened to the most inane thoughts I could conjure, and she never gave me a disapproving look in response. We'd write letters, even though we didn't live very far apart and we saw each other often. I didn't know what she saw in my words, but I would marvel at the way hers inspired me. I often felt like she had a gift for reading my thoughts and giving voice to the ones I couldn't articulate, but perhaps that was more of a curse -- I'm not sure.

I sensed in her a kindred spirit, and we became what I could best describe as friends, though there were other aspects involved. And I knew I was in love, though I'm sure I didn't know anything about love at the time.

Our afternoon rendezvous in the city was a almost a year to the day from when we first met. I had decided I had to tell her everything she meant to me, but I was afraid, because I had never told any girl something like what I wanted to tell her. I sensed the risk inherent to my mission. So, I sat next to her in that dark movie theater, until the lights came back up, just trying to formulate in my mind how I should start my declaration.

But before the I could say much of anything, she asked if we could go walk along Penn's Landing. I said yes. It seemed like it would provide an opportunity to talk, and the scene seemed almost romantic in and of itself, there with the sun making its way down the slope of the western sky, slowly retiring behind the center city skyscrapers, casting a fiery shimmer east upon the river.

We walked the short distance to the landing, where my delusion shattered when we happened upon another young woman, one of her classmates from school. She asked if her friend could walk with us. I said of course.

When we parted company that day with me dropping off her and her classmate at the station, she gave a kiss and a hug goodbye, then I went my own way home. I remember feeling a little cheated, even though I knew I probably could have asserted my wish to talk with her alone. But I didn't, and anyway, there's always next time, right?

There was no way I could have known that would be the last time I'd ever see her, but it was. And it's sad now to think that I've written hundreds of poems about her being gone, but I never wrote a single poem about her when she was around. And not a day goes by, even now, when I don't spent at least a moment or two missing her, especially when I make the occasional trip into the city. It's almost like a phantom pain, to look to my side and expect to see her there -- I swear that's how it feels.

But I know better.

"...every now and then I'd swear I see you standing
on a sidewalk, in a restaurant, from a taxi passing by."
-Better than Ezra