Mathetes award and other stuff

So thanks to Cura and Jeff for their nominating me for a Mathetes award. :) Here's my response:

The Mathetes Award, created by Dan King of Management by God to recognize those who take to heart the Great Commission and further God’s Kingdom by creating more disciples for Him.

The rules for the award, as posted by its creator are as follows:

In the spirit of this award, the rules are simple. Winners of this award must pick five other “disciples” to pass it on to. As you pass it on, I just ask that you mention and provide links for:

1) This post as the originator of the award (Dan King of management by God)
2) The person that awarded it to you, and then
3) Name and sites of the five that you believe are fulfilling the role of a disciple of Christ.

My five (order meaning nothing beyond where they are in my blog bookmark folder):

1.) Rev. Mommy

2.) Crystal at Perspectives

3.) Sr. Julie at A Nun's Life

4.) Sr. Susan at Musings of a Discerning Woman

5.) Liam at Sententiae et clamores

Something of substance to come, I promise!

Be cool to the Pizza Dude

NPR junkie that I am, I'm listening to an interview on my local affiliate with the person who produces the "This I Believe" segment on NPR. (Link takes you to the program's site.) They just played one segment from the show entitled "Be Cool to the Pizza Dude." You can listen to it or read it here.

For the link-phobic:

Be Cool to the Pizza Dude
by Sarah Adams

If I have one operating philosophy about life it is this: "Be cool to the pizza delivery dude; it's good luck." Four principles guide the pizza dude philosophy.

Principle 1: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in humility and forgiveness. I let him cut me off in traffic, let him safely hit the exit ramp from the left lane, let him forget to use his blinker without extending any of my digits out the window or towards my horn because there should be one moment in my harried life when a car may encroach or cut off or pass and I let it go. Sometimes when I have become so certain of my ownership of my lane, daring anyone to challenge me, the pizza dude speeds by me in his rusted Chevette. His pizza light atop his car glowing like a beacon reminds me to check myself as I flow through the world. After all, the dude is delivering pizza to young and old, families and singletons, gays and straights, blacks, whites and browns, rich and poor, vegetarians and meat lovers alike. As he journeys, I give safe passage, practice restraint, show courtesy, and contain my anger.

Principle 2: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in empathy. Let's face it: We've all taken jobs just to have a job because some money is better than none. I've held an assortment of these jobs and was grateful for the paycheck that meant I didn't have to share my Cheerios with my cats. In the big pizza wheel of life, sometimes you're the hot bubbly cheese and sometimes you're the burnt crust. It's good to remember the fickle spinning of that wheel.

Principle 3: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in honor and it reminds me to honor honest work. Let me tell you something about these dudes: They never took over a company and, as CEO, artificially inflated the value of the stock and cashed out their own shares, bringing the company to the brink of bankruptcy, resulting in 20,000 people losing their jobs while the CEO builds a home the size of a luxury hotel. Rather, the dudes sleep the sleep of the just.

Principle 4: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in equality. My measurement as a human being, my worth, is the pride I take in performing my job -- any job -- and the respect with which I treat others. I am the equal of the world not because of the car I drive, the size of the TV I own, the weight I can bench press, or the calculus equations I can solve. I am the equal to all I meet because of the kindness in my heart. And it all starts here -- with the pizza delivery dude.

Tip him well, friends and brethren, for that which you bestow freely and willingly will bring you all the happy luck that a grateful universe knows how to return.

Evening Odds and Ends

1.) Stomach flu. Came out of nowhere last night/yesterday afternoon. Haven't made an emergency trip to the bathroom in a bit now.

2.) Watching the Ken Burns documentary on WWII. Maybe I'm just jaded, but I wonder if our perceptions of the war would've been different, had CNN, google news, and the internet existed back then. What if Halliburton and Blackwater existed then?

I'm trying to understand some of the hatred some of the people interviewed still have for the Japanese. I don't hate the Saudis, who were mostly responsible for 9/11. Granted, my family isn't winning any racial harmony awards, but some of the things I've heard them say (of the generation who lived through that time), don't bear repeating, as if the firebombings of Tokyo and two atomic bombs weren't enough. Does that generation of Japanese hate Americans?

I guess part of what I'm reacting to is how lily-white and innocent the Americans are being portrayed in this. Sure, they probably didn't come close to some of the atrocities elsewhere, but having heard of the crap that happened in Vietnam through present day, I'm a bit incredulous.

I'm tired of hearing how my generation isn't as patriotic as the "greatest generation," because we oppose the war in Iraq, or how our morals are askew. Or how we don't compare in education to that generation. Maybe they need to realize that the world is completely different than it was 60 years ago.

Here's a podcast interview with Paul Cornell, the writer of the book Human Nature that became the episodes "Human Nature," and "Family of Blood" of the season of Doctor Who that just aired. (That's season 29 for the old school fans and season 3 for the new school fans.) It's really well done. Boy howdy, if you haven't seen Utopia/Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords, hold off if you don't want it spoiled.

And here is a blog about the theology of Doctor Who. Don't agree with all his conclusions, but I like it nonetheless. (That and I tend to see the Doctor more as St. Michael than a Christ-like figure, but I need to work out my thoughts on that sometime when I've got more brain space. If the last three episodes of the current season follow Revelations, it kind of follows, but I'll let the episodes air over here before spewing forth.)

A day in the life of a fool...

Thanks to Liam I have this song stuck in my head. (Worksafe.)

I admit I get a bit frustrated, when I hear someone say that laity should just be content with the rosary, the Mass, and vocal prayer, generally some saccharine verbiage out of a prayer book published before 1950. Don't get me wrong, I like the rosary (the Dominicans are rubbing off on me, even if I get more out of making them than praying them), but purely verbal prayer doesn't always fill a need.

It's one instance of that "Don't you worry your little lay head *pat pat*" attitude that you see among the generation younger than me. While the Liturgy of the Hours is important, one of the reasons why I switched to Latin was because I found myself just spitting out the words as fast as I could, without really considering their meaning. The LotH is the prayer of the entire Church. As such, it should have relevance and speak to our lives. When it works, it's uncanny how a particular psalm (usually just one for that day) speaks to something going on in my life.

But also it should be more than just the words on the page. There should be something in the words that points to something greater than us, which is the point of lectio divina. (Or should be.) Granted, I'm a barely-closeted contemplative, but I believe we're all called to a deeper relationship with the Divine. Hiding behind pious prose isn't going to expose us to that deeper mystery.

Others have written about how contemplation is a gift and a calling from God. If this is true, then what possible reason is there to restrict people from that to which they're being called?

Ah heck. Anyone know how to get videos from youtube working on blogger?



Bleiben Sie in Ruhe...

Obituary for Zawinul here.

St. Gabriel, patron of twisted pairs, fix my DSL...

So for almost two years, I haven't had to so much as reboot my DSL modem. I realize I'm lucky in this respect. I piggyback my DSL on my existing phone service through another provider, and the relationship has been great. I will admit that I would recommend speakeasy, even though I'm currently having problems.

They're shipping a new modem, so hopefully that will fix things. If that doesn't work, they'll ratchet up the pressure on my phone company. I'm tempted to dump my phone, get a prepaid cell, and just go bare DSL. It's not much more than what I'd be paying, if I upgraded my existing service. Any recommendations as to cell phone providers? I should probably get one, anyway, with as much travel as I do. I'm looking at prepaid plans, since I hardly use a phone.

You know, St. Gabriel the Archangel is the patron saint of telecommunications. I'm beginning to think he'd be faster than my ISP goading my telco into fixing the damn line. Maybe it's just coincidence, but I found a silly little novena to him. My DSL hasn't dropped yet...

There's something about Real Live Preacher's newest series in the Foy Davis stories. The latest three center around a boy named David Friedman. His stories and writings always hit hard in an ultra-realistic way, but it's not that.

In another life, back in school before college I was David Friedman. During fifth grade, I was beaten up daily and blamed for it. (Smart kids ask for it, apparently, and should just act normal.) Middle school wasn't much better. High school the beatings became emotional. College? It was wonderful. But my experience reflected through David's aren't what's eating at me through those stories.

For awhile, a part of me wanted those who bullied me to be monsters, still. Probably some are. Probably some are ordinary people. Even some may be nice people once they grew up some. Another part of me wanted to lord over them that I've managed to do things with my life that they haven't--I'm one of the few from my suburban high school who's living further than 10 miles away from the suburb I grew up in.

There was a time when I wanted to show up at a reunion, Hoopy Frood in tow, and name-drop the composers, choreographers, visual artists, and other people I've met, while reciting my CV. In the end, I didn't go to my 10 year reunion. Now I don't feel much towards those people. If I hadn't read the story, I probably wouldn't have thought about them. I have people who love me, and I have people I love. I'll never be a social butterfly, but when the mood strikes I have people to do stuff with. Life is pretty good.

What made my stomach sink was the idea that those who bullied me are feeling some kind of remorse, yet I want them to be faceless monsters. Can anything erase what they did? Probably not. Will I forget what was done to me? Probably not. Catholic teaching says as much that we have responsibility for the effects of the sins we commit. What reconciliation does is allow us to go on with our lives. Do I want their lives to go on? Sure. Do I want them to feel awful for what they did? I'd be lying if I said I didn't, but no I don't as much as I once did.

What would happen, if we ran into each other in QFC? Probably the initial pleasantries. I'm sure they'd be as interested in my forays into the arts like I'd be interested in their kids. We'd exchange smalltalk over avocadoes, and then go on with our lives. Maybe they need to hear that my life is as boringly normal as theirs is. Maybe I needed to hear that they're just people.