Love the Life You Choose

2005-08-15T10:49:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me that I should leave a post here directing what fools still come here to Seatbelt Blues, my current blog. It's not quite in the same vein as LtLYC, but I like it. So gimme a ring or a whatever, and swing on by.

I'll give you a dollar?

The Loss of Will

2005-07-02T12:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

This blog was supposed to be a collaborative effort between myself, and my friends Erik and Ian. Our goal was to blog about what we saw and discussed in the intersection between art and faith, between creativity and the Creator, if you will. As it happened, we'd post major pieces after we'd have major discussions. But, alas, these conversations were less common than we imagined, and when they did happen it became difficult to try and drag a post out of them.

I have to cite two factors for the serious decline in posting. The first is, yes, the difficulty in figuring out what to write. The second, then, would be what still seems to me to be the inexplicable reluctance of my partners to post really much of anything. What began as a group project quickly devolved into a solo job, which is not something I was really willing to carry out. With my associates effectively abandoning Love the Life You Choose, I found it difficult to carry on. Part of it was a bit of spite - "if you guys won't post, then nothing will get posted" - which isn't the most mature attitude to take, that's for sure. The rest was, yes, myself losing interest.

In addition, I have found myself wrapped up in a couple of projects. In addition to continuing work on my novel, I've begun a graphic novel with Erik Teter (erstwhile poster here), both of which, I hope, emanate that Kierkegaardian, Balthasarian sensability I've tried to display here.

So, I am announcing today that, I will no longer be posting on Love the Life You Choose. I won't call this permanent, but I do not at present have any plans to resume at any point in the near future. For those of you who enjoyed reading this space, I invite you to my livejournal, moody/mercurial, where I will continue posting. The beauty of moody/mercurial is that I don't feel the pressure to write long articles. However, I do try to post things of substance there. I would, most certainly, appreciate anybody who makes the jump from here to there.

So, signing off, I'd like to send out my thanks to all of you who kept up with this sad and failed experiment, especially Fred K, our most frequent poster.

Good hunting. Dismissed!

Brian

Dont Take This The Wrong Way

2005-05-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

We love Pope Benedict, but, well, he looks like Emperor Palpatine.

Right Now and Right Here

2005-05-02T10:46:00.000-07:00

(A rambling post, but I hope it elicits some thoughts.)

I've been pretty sure of it for a while, but today I'm certain that I'm meant for religious life (which sucks ass because I am this scholar of pop culture, this aficionado of music and movies and literature. I have priorities! I'll have to reassess). Oh, but...music, girl, music! Oh, music! I've always kept pop culture high on my importance list. It's the language we speak. It's the air we breathe.

Ah, I'm just complaining without cause, really. I have this fantasy of being this angel-headed horn-rimmed hipster in a knit hat who writes at length about skanking during a Big D and the Kid's Table concert, or turning my vast knowledge of pop culture into a grand and wonderful fortune (which, for me, is the ability to merely keep up my current standard of living without difficulty). It's just the astounding dancing lure of music floors and movie theatres, the temples and cathedrals of secular America. I am drawn to liturgies in all forms - from mass to concert set lists.

As my friend Julian says, "You're an artist." Yes! yes, that's it, isn't it? That holiday-driven angst, that slow and smirking wonder at the things we can look at and say "this moves me, like faces on the water." I think I am intelligent enough, though, to see that, in two extremes, one being the passing deeds, the angelic, damned songs of the day, and the other being the angel prayers that light up the universe, the eternal face of God, the grim anguish of it all...I think I am intelligent enough to make that choice.

Ah, I choose both!

Thoughts?

Interesting Dilemma

2005-05-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

I have recently acquired a job with a local counterculture magazine. Now, as a young, inexperienced writer, I know I have to take assignments. I know I can't dictate terms here. But, really, I'm very concerned about the ethical implications of some of the assignments of which my editor and I have spoken.

I'll give two examples. The first is dog and cock fighting, both of which are very prominent in Richmond's underground. In one proposed story, I would have to attend such an event and, well, write about it. Are there any ethical or legal problems in attending a dogfight for journalistic purposes?

I propose the same question about checking out a local brothel, another proposed story.

Thanks in advance.

iSoul

2005-04-21T13:58:00.000-07:00

I recently have read news stories about the growing threat of iPod theft. Always, expensive electronic devices are potential targets for thieves because of their high resale value; this is really an inevitability when it comes to any consumer good - cd players, laptops, radios, cars. All of these are really very tempting goals for any ne'er-do-well.

But the iPod thefts are striking people in a decidedly different place: their hearts. I know it sounds strange, but iPod theft is being likened to identity theft. This device is increasingly growing in importance, especially among music lovers, who, as all music lovers know, are intensely passionate about this particular pasttime. To many of these people, it's not just an accessory that's been stolen: they've been violated, they say. Strangers can glimpse into their souls.

Now, to me, this just goes to show that music is very much a part of the human experience, a grand and transcendant gift of God, a means window into the numinous. The best music touches us at the most basic level; it influences our moods, our perceptions, our reactions. It's important. We respond to music in our souls before respond in our heads; before I can tell you about technique, construction, arrangement, I can say that the music is sad, exhuberant, plaintive, exhalting, mellow, harried, jagged, or smooth.

And the music we collect, that's the most personal. That's the music we are emotionally connected to, the music that we've taken into our lives and claimed. The loss of the iPod is secondary to the loss of the soundtrack to your life. Be they wailing guitars or chanting monks, music helps us deal with life. Somehow, this sustained, controlled production of sound reaches us and teaches us and gives us the words and poetry of our waking and sleeping, speaking and prayer.

I feel for you, iPod theft victims. I understand your loss.

Excuses, excuses

2005-04-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

Two weeks without an update? For shame! But then, I do have an excuse. My internet access went all wonky and then shut down the day after my last post. It just came back on about, oh, an hour or so ago.

(of course, my esteemed colleagues have no excuse for not posting.)

The Last Full Measure

2005-04-01T09:21:00.000-08:00

A brief note on the pope from your Esteemed Author.

I am very amazed, yes, very amazed, by the pope. The Gospel lies in giving everything. Since everything we have is from God, we can give Him nothing less than everything, which is what Christ gave us. Then, how wonderful that the pope has given everything as well! He now gives his last full measure, his last few breaths for the service and witness of Christ.

I, with love and in love, praise this man, and in praising the painting, praise the Painter.

You did one hell of a job, Lord.

Drowning in self-doubt

2005-03-28T00:58:00.000-08:00

I'd like to apologize for the title of this post. I know it sounds like a song from a Dashboard Confessional album but I hope this post isn't nearly as depressing or whiny.

I'm sure many of you have had days like this. Nothing seems to be going right. You keep screwing up. You walk into your place of work or school feeling confident and walk out feeling like an idiot. You begin to question the direction of your life. Am I really as good as I thought I was? Or am I just deluding myself? These are questions that I was asking myself just last Thursday.

I was talking to a friend of mine, (I won't give her name) that was in the same spot as I was only 24 hours earlier. When it came right down to it, we both asked ourselves the same 3 word question, "What's the point?"

I told her a couple of things on Wednesday that I wished I had kept in mind on Thursday. The most important of which was, "If life was pointless you would never be depressed." We know that God has a plan for all of us. But when we're on the path he paved and road starts to become uneven and cracked, we panic. We start to think maybe we're walking on the wrong one. Maybe I should take a U-Turn? Maybe just bear to the left or right? I'm not sure! But if there was not a defined road and the ground beneath us got a little cracked, we wouldn't care. I figured out my occasional funks are proof that I'm on the right track. If life was pointless then you wouldn't care. And if you didn't care then there'd be no need for sadness. Yes, there is a joy even in depression. Fractured though it may be, it's there.

God once said of Christ, "This is my beloved Son, of whom I am well pleased." He says the first part to each and every one of us regardless of our actions, "This is my beloved Son (or daughter)." But our actions do determine whether or not He will say, "With whom I am well pleased." Following His plan is a surefire to hear those words. Just remember to cut out that quitter's talk.

So We Kiss It

2005-03-27T09:10:00.000-08:00

Happy Easter, everyone. Apologies for another long delay in posting. Alas, I simply haven't had much to say. I actually meant to post this Friday or Saturday, but I had visitors and wasn't able to get myself on the computer to write.

On Good Friday, as the whole body of the Cathedral rose to present themselves for the veneration of the Cross, or more specifically, after I had already both gone up, kissed, and returned, a thought struck me which I pondered for the better part of the affair.

I am, on occassion, struck by the immensity of the Church. We have a a billion Catholics in this world; another half-billion non-Catholic. And for these millions and millions, many try with every effort, with the haggard determination of a man pushing a bull, to live that faith. Christ presented us with a challenge, a wonderful challenge, to live as He lived. And while many of us have tried, precious few have succeeded. And now, here we are at Easter, the days that, like no other, put the reality of the Gospel right in front of our faces. The Cross, an instrument of death. The unjust execution of an innocent. God as a man, dying. The great mysteries of Christ, the incalculable love of God for His people. And billions, billions trying to grasp it. Billions pouring into churches around the world for a few seconds at the Cross, to touch the reality of the situation.

I imagined, and I don't pretend to know if I'm correct, that these people, these endless throngs of faithful men and women, that each of them was there to see what it all meant. Because at Easter, for millions, it ceases to be abstract religion and becomes more palpable, more real, as though they can, at this rare occassion, glimpse through the veil of history and see Christ up there, waiting, bleeding, dying. The glorious imagery, the devotional paintings, two-thousand years of sophistication melt away and we are confronted with the thing, the event.

So, we come up to the Cross, a tangible, tactile thing. Really, it's just two slats of wood lashed together, but it has this imbued meaning to it. By touching it, kissing it, embracing it, not as an abstraction, but as the cruel instrument of death, as the instrument of our salvation, we might better understand.

We have been confronted by Christ, and we're trying to reconcile ourselves to that Cross. So we kiss it. On good Friday, we acknowledge His death, and I wonder how many, how many of the Body of Christ, really try to know, not just assent, that all of it really happened.

Where to draw the line?

2005-03-18T15:16:00.000-08:00

Issues about the environment, population, and resources, are of great importance in this day an age. I cannot help and look around and be concerned with how we, man, is interacting with our environment. These thoughts have been with me for some time, but recent things have got me thinking about them a lot more, such as the increases in gas prices, and the future oil drilling in Alaska. Upon thinking about these issues I increasingly find myself faced with a philosophical quandary. Where do we draw the line between man and nature? This is a question I think we often but aside in our minds, or don't even ask. Its understandable, because it seems like common sense to most of us that there is a line, that man is a distinct phenomenon, in which we don't find anywhere else in nature. But Man came from nature; Man at some level is nature. So how can be sure that Mans pollution of nature isn't part of some sort of natural evolution. After all, if there is anything we know about nature, its the remarkably ability to adapt to changes, to take a quote from a movie "life finds a way!" Just so no one takes the wrong idea from this, I am not saying that we should turn a blind eye to pollution, I am just posing a philosophical question, and those who talk philosophy a lot know that it usually doesn't translate into a conclusion but rather more questions. I personally am very concerned about protecting the environment and i find that I am spiritually drawn to the natural world. I hold an incarnationalist perspective, which views the world as being charged with the grandeur of God, and that the natural is a representation of the supernatural. I am concerned that we seem to not see a line sometimes; just because we can do something doesn't mean we should. These days the stakes seem to be getting a lot higher as well, with idea of cloning, and genetic manipulation. Where do we draw the line? Is it all just nature being nature? Or is something else going on? How do truly live up to the job of being stewards of creation?

On Salvation

2005-03-13T07:49:00.000-08:00

In my own medititations, I have reached the conclusion that salvation is dependent on Christ, not on your own propensity to sin or not. It's like this: You are a child of God, who lives in the love of God, correct? At the same time, you are a disciple, an apprentice, of Christ. These are profound things, are they not?

Our salvation cannot, I repeat, cannot be reduced to "what you do" or "what you believe," but is instead more...abstract? That's not the right word. There's no "formula" for salvation, there's nothing you must "do". Heaven is not a reward, a prize you win, as much as it is a destination that we must travel to. And how do we get there? By following Christ as closely as we can, dependent on the mercy of God.

You see, Heaven is the life for which we were always intended, but we have been so deluded and clouded and ruined by sin that we are no longer fit for it. Christ has given us the way, the means to grow ripe for Eternity, to order ourselves correctly.
You musn't focus on individual sins. It's not that you must repent of every single individual sin - a daunting, impossible task, as you correctly point out - it's that you must let Christ change you. You must be so desperate, so despairing at your own ability to change yourself that you reach the profound recognition that Christ will change you.

The Gospel lies in self-donation rather than self-assertion, submission rather than willfulness; we cannot change ourselves. Passivity is activity; if we want to change, we must stop trying to change ourselves. Don't you see that only Christ can truly heal our souls?

Don't think of God as a bean counter who tallies up your sins and then makes judgement. He's not that callous or cruel. Rather, He's your Father, friend, infinitely merciful. Be not afraid!

A Favor To Ask

2005-03-12T18:38:00.000-08:00

Once again, I'd like to apologize for the infrequency of posting. We blog about a pretty broad topic - the intersection of God and Creation, the created beingness of things and the meaning inherant therein - but it's remarkably difficult to figure out what to blog about. Which brings me to my post.

I would consider it a great favor if you, our Intrepid Readers, could send in any topics you see as being relevant to our discussions here, emailing them to seatbeltblue@gmail.com. You see, the three of us are all generally very busy guys - full time college students all, and I have a part-time job at Pizza Hut - and aren't the most efficient people at scanning the world for things to talk about. It could be anything: a book, a bit of news, a magazine article, a painting....anything.

It would be greatly appreciated.

Hold the mirror up to Christ

2005-03-05T04:15:00.000-08:00

First off, I’d like to apologize for not posting more often. In fact, this is only my third post, but who’s counting? Oh, well I guess the Post counter. Damn…

Anyway, I think of Incarnationalism as an artistic and spiritual philosophy. Therefore, I only feel the need to post when I have thoughts upon the meeting of theology and the arts. And since they’re my two favorite subjects, I love it when that happens. As a side note, my favorite spiritually engaging films are “Simon Birch”, “Dogma”, “Signs”, and “The Passion of the Christ”. (I’m sorry, Brian, I know you hate “Dogma”, but that’s a discussion for another day…)

But I digress. Brian’s last post brought up a lot of issues that are very much about what I think Incarnationalism stands for. I could have just replied to his post, but I thought since I can, I should just make one of my own. I’ve thought extensively about how to live a life emulating Christ. Obviously we aren’t all called to move to Nazareth, become carpenters until we’re thirty, preach for three years, and then die on the Cross. That would probably the decrease the amount of Christian converts, let me tell you. So how does yours truly for example, live like Christ as a theatre student in Richmond, VA in the year 2005?

I’ve had a few theological discussions with my Dad over the years and one of the things he said to me was, “Wherever you are, that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.” I don’t know if he came up with that himself, or if he got it from somewhere else but it doesn’t matter. I believe that I am meant to be in this place right this second. Wherever I am ten years from right now, I am meant to be there then too. You get the idea. This may seem like an obvious or even clichéd idea, but I think it rings true.

Now, you may ask, you’re supposed to be exactly where you are. Now what? I think of Jesus’ Greatest Commandments, “Love God with all your strength, heart, soul and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.” You might ask, how do you do that? One of the things they drilled into our heads in Catholic school was to recognize the presence of God in every human being. Even if they’re a pompous jerk or a mass murderer, they’re still one of His precious children and deserve respect. If we treat every single person that we come across with dignity and kindness then we are truly living the Christian life.

God has a plan for all of us. But it isn’t just “Hey Julie, go be an architect” or “Hey Habib, go be a literature professor”. God has a plan He wants us to follow every day, every hour, and every minute. And I believe that He will send you exactly the work that you need to do exactly when you need to do it. It may be something you think you’re not ready for, but it is never and I repeat NEVER something you can’t handle. Although it may seem like it. The best thing to do is to pray for the guidance to recognize what needs to be done and the strength to do it. Remember, God is the fountain “from whom all good things come”. Enjoy the things of this world, because they come from Him. Recognize the presence of God, not just in people but in comedy, music, and athletics. I apologize if these ideas seem simplistic, but it’s just the way I see things. Have fun!

A Question for the Readers

2005-03-04T07:24:00.000-08:00

This is something that's been on my mind lately, and I thought I'd ask you, the great, anonymous, unwashed masses of LTLYC, for your perspectives.

How does one live the Gospel? How can one live a life of radical self-donation, or, more directly, how does one "give up everything and follow" Christ?

What follows is a letter I wrote to my pastor some time ago, to which he, unfortunately, never replied.This is something that's been on my mind lately, and I thought I'd ask you, the great, anonymous, unwashed masses of LTLYC, for your perspectives.

How does one live the Gospel? How can one live a life of radical self-donation, or, more directly, how does one "give up everything and follow" Christ?

What follows is a letter I wrote to my pastor some time ago, to which he, unfortunately, never replied.

The essential question of Catholicism is not "how far can I go before
I get in trouble," but "what can I do to be a holy person;" not "what
am I permitted," but "what am I to be?" The answer to the essential
question is, of course, Christ: I am to be Christ, to form and be
formed in That image. But how to accomplish this?

I understand the terms, the concepts, the premises of our faith, that
we are to participate in what Scott Hahn calls "the life of the
Trinity," the familial existence of the Church, with is family love,
self-sacrificing rather than self-asserting. However, the question I
have never been able to answer is the real-world application of this
idea, the "what" and "how" to this "why." I feel much like the rich
young man who was told by Christ to give up everything and follow Him;
however, I have difficulty seeing Christ before me, and figuring out
exactly where He's going.

I feel like I live, as John Paul II puts it, "in the shadow of the
Law." Every time I ask "how do I follow Christ more closely, how do I
emulate Him," I am told "pray the Rosary. Attend Mass regularly." But,
like the rich young man, "all these things I have done." Surely there
must be more!

Essentially, how do I pass from an externalized, compartmentalized
faith to one fully lived?

I am not fully or even properly formed. I've spent most of my
Christian life in debate, looking more to win arguments than to live
in the life of the Trinity. I did this under the guise of "love;" I
love these poor Protestant souls, and so I will yell them into
Catholicism. Needless to say, I was less than successful, and I have
since been shown the error I perpetuated, an "us and them" mentality that
destroys authentic faith. I am the victim, too, of this mind
which calls me to be a crusader against error rather than a
participant in the family love of the Trinity.

How do I live this faith fully? How do I comprehend and know Christ as
Christ is to be comprehended and known, which is in love, obedience?
How do I come to stop viewing God as my King and instead as my Father?

This is, of course, the fundamental challenge of V2 as taught by Pope
John Paul: self-donation, inner conversion and formation, a new
freedom where the rules hardly matter (for example, St Augustine's
"Love God and do what you will;" when you love God fully, the "rules,"
as I put it, become unnecessary as one is living a life _conformed to
the Person of Christ_). But how is this acquired? How does one _live
this life?_

I have a very Franciscan notion - more like a Christian notion, I
think - that we are, first and foremost, called to self-giving
service, which is love, to mankind, and I feel very strongly called to
some sort of "radical, revolutionary," authentic Christian life of
service/love. George Sim Johnston writes, "We are created in the image
of a Trinitarian God, three persons in the act of eternal, mutual
self-giving. We have the 'law of gift' inscribed in our being. There
are two sentences from Gaudium et Spes that John Paul quotes
repeatedly; they are the leitmotiv of his pontificate. First: Man 'can
fully find his true self only in the sincere gift of self.' In other
words, contrary to our hedonist culture's notions of happiness, we
find our humanity more in self-giving than self-assertion, in
relationship rather than self-sufficiency. And the second is like it:
'Christ the new Adam...fully reveals man to himself.' The truth about
ourselves is ultimately not a proposition but a Person, who Himself is
defined by total self-donation."

I often read these writings by varied and sundry authors, online and
off, that make this point - self-giving service, love, Personhood in
Christ - but none will even begin to offer practical advice on how to
go about living this authentic Christianity. So, having ploughed
through my verbose communique, I pray that you can offer some sound
advice on the matter.

Well, Friends and Enemies, let me know what you think.

Both/And

2005-03-01T13:08:00.000-08:00

Sorry for this relatively scattershot post.

It's a sad state of affairs when something like this is attended by a Cardinal Archbishop. Now, I'm a big fan of masses that are really celebratory and convey an atmosphere of celebration, or are contrite and convey an atmosphere of contrition. But this is absurd.

The article above has it dead on when it says that when you focus on the entertainment of the crowd, you're pretty much admitting all you have is music and powerpoint. You've thrown out the fearful reverence and wonder at the mystery, majesty and beauty of God. One of the things that people have been observing for the past few years is the recent - and wholly unexpected - rise in a desire for orthodox religion among my generation, the Millenials. We've been raised in a world in which God is a nice and pretty concept, but really, we should be focusing on ourselves. All that matters is how we feel.

We've heard the message, and we don't like it. As a generation, we're swinging wildly around, trying to locate the authentic faith we've been denied. What fascinates the heck out of me is that, raised in a culture in which everything is divided into the "right" and the "left," we've come to associate all the various rights and lefts into two towering bohemoths. We conflate "conservative" religion and conservative politics; "liberal" religion and liberal politics are likewise joined at the hip to us.

The result is that so many young Catholics have been taught that faithful Catholics are Republicans. They react with shock if a Catholic expresses support of a Democrat. The abortion debate has played no small role in this, of course; the Church has somewhat formed an alliance with the Republican Party to end that despicable practice. However, faithful Catholics would do well to be wary of as monolithic a political institution as either party. Neither one represents our faith.

Neither one.

Let's remember that our political beliefs should very much be framed by our faith. As much as we should oppose abortion, we should support efforts to help the poor and destitute, to help workers attain safe workplaces, to protect the world God gave us. We can neither be Republicans nor Democrats; we must be Catholics.

So, where has the reverence of the mystery of God gone? We set out to seek out to serve God and instead ended up as political mouthpieces. So many of us speak eloquently of John Paul's genius, but we ignore him when he criticizes our war.

See, I believe we are in a transitional period. It is the next generation - those being born today - that will really supply us with a well-formed Church. We're looking towards the midpoint of the century, here. We need to find our center.

I think we can accomplish great things as a generation of Christians if we turn away from our rejection of everything we associate with "liberal" religion and recognize that we need - very much so - the social justice activities of the Church.

Do we want Christ to say to us "I was hungry, and you did not feed me. I was thirsty, but you did not give me drink." So, at the same time we're recovering a solid Christology, let's help the poor. I think the two go hand-in-hand. It's what Weigel calls the Catholic both/and; works and faith, towers and troughs, rich and poor. Remember, sometimes it is better to act one's self into a new way of thinking than it is to think one's self into a new way of acting.

On Committed's Eucharist "Faux-Pas"

2005-02-24T22:44:00.000-08:00

I commented yesterday on the recent episode of Committed which featured heavily on the Eucharist. I had a generally positive view of the affair, but it seems to have sparked a flap. The "Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights" issued a press release about it, and Amy Welborn down at open book is outraged. And, I have to say, I'm not understanding the offense.

This is what I had to say over at there.

I think I may have been the first blogger to comment on this today, over on lovethelife.blogspot.com. I must say, I saw the episode - I, a Catholic, with my Catholic friends - and none of us were much offended. We discussed the episode in some depth afterwards, and were amazed at just how respectful it was. Basically, you had two non-Catholics trying their best to do the right thing, and everything goes wrong.

This is hardly offensive. It doesn't insult the Eucharist. Their utter horror when they drop what they think is the Host in the toilet shows how much respect they had. If they hadn't cared, they would have flushed and been done with it.

But they didn't. They knew - knew, absolutely knew - that they needed to treat this with as much respect as they could muster, because, though it wasn't the Body of Christ to them, it was to us, to Catholics.

Come on. These characters aren't Catholic. They dont know what to do. All they know is it needs to be eaten, so they try to get it eaten.

Imagine how much worse it would have been if they had tossed it into the trash!

People really need to stop looking to be offended and recognize that this was about an areligious man trying to respect his girlfriend's beliefs, and do what he understands as needing to be done.

The Edge of Your Seat

2005-02-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

First off, prayers requested for John Paul II. He's back in the hospital.

Second, a post.

Did anyone else manage to catch this past Tuesday's episode of NBC's Committed? I love this show. It's quirky, the female lead is irresistibly cute, and her generally sunny outlook on life plays well of her neurotic boyfriends pessimism. Happily this week, we found out Marny (the girl) is Catholic. That was pretty kickin'.

Anyway, the "A" plot of the episode was pretty original. How often do you see the main plot of a sitcom center on the Eucharist? Nate and the guy who played Eddie on Family Matters attend a funeral, and Nate, who is Jewish, accidentally takes Communion. I say "takes" because he doesn't actually eat the Host, and at the end of the funeral, he still has it. My friends and I jumped out of our seats when he held it up. Wackiness ensues as they try to get it back to the priest without actually telling him what happened.

I won't go into all the plot details, but it was very interesting that this sitcom attempted, in its own nutso way, to treat the Eucharist with real respect. Nate didn't just eat it or throw it away, but did everything he could to ensure it would be taken back by the priest. They had some pretty iffy ideas, but their hearts were in the right place. And while they weren't particularly reverent, at least they were respectful of our beliefs, and wanted to do what needed to be done.

And also, it was hilarious.

Recommending Books

2005-02-19T07:32:00.000-08:00

Over at phatmass, a website for Catholic young adults, which is generally pretty kickin', there is included a section of book recommendations. I generally like phatmass, and approve of a lot of the things they do, which is really about getting us all invested in the Catholic culture, to appreciate our history and our future, and to "rep the pope," as it were. However, browsing the book recommendations, I noticed a trend. I posted about it on their phorum, to little response. Here's my post in it's entirety.

Ok...I was looking at the book recommendations in the "shop" section, and, is it just me, or is there a very, very heavy emphasis on apologetics? #1 is a Karl Keating Klassic....oh, KKK, thats not good :-P....Four books on apologetics, and one on the interior life, and that one has a disclaimer to let you know it's not about apologetics. Because that was my concern.

I have to say I'm a little bothered by this. Ive spent a lot of time doing apologetics in my life, a lot of time, but, and maybe this is just me, I found when I devoted most of my Christian activity to that aim - when I read the bible looking for evidence, when I read tons of apologetics books, when I endlessly debated and debated (and let me tell you, I'm a ferocious debater), it hurt me spiritually. I essentially neglected my interior life, my prayer, my relationship with God, my spiritual formation for three years. And then, like it did for so many, The Passion of the Christ changed everything.

I was pretty much the head of the Catholic community on Zboard, but two weeks after seeing the movie, I resigned. I stopped apologetics work altogether. I realized that, underneath two-thousand years of sophistication and clarification and thought, there was quite simply the most extraordinary thing ever to happen to a person this world has ever seen, something so wiry and intense, so steeped in sand, blood, sweat, wood, clay, and voices that I had to step back and ask myself "why is the location of the comma so important? What does it matter what the definition of "all" is? What does it matter at all?"

Maybe it's just me. I don't know. But there is so, so much more to our faith than arguing with protestants. I think we disrespect God when we reduce it so far.

So, I offer to you a book recommendation. Maybe place it at number six, or give it a mention in a sidebar. It's called Letters to a Young Catholic by George Weigel, and it will change how you see everything. It doesn't talk about doctrine - doctrine isn't really its concern - and instead, it really revels in the sacramental configuration of the whole world, it wonders at the mystery of God. Nothing is meaningless, Christ tells us. Nothing is pointless. Nothing, nothing at all, is in vain. Consider it my gift to the pham.

I'd appreciate all of your thoughts on the matter. Especially all those wacky phatmassers out there (ah, I love you all).

Beauty and Death

2005-02-16T21:43:00.000-08:00

First off, our sincerest apologies for not updating more often. I've been trying to reduce the amount of time I spend on the computer for Lent, but that doesn't seem to be holding, and to top that off, I have found my vision unusually foggy, that is, I have had difficulty seeing the imprint of God. Few things are as frustrating as knowing God wants something from you, but not yet, and that you should prepare, but not know how. This and other things have distracted me from blogging. I apologize and ask your prayers that God will see me through.

But this caught my eye. Down over on Unleashed Weapon, Missina Kinsey gets to thinking about seeing an advertisement.

Her perfect poise and beautiful skin are enough to make any female feel inferior, but instead of grimacing as I normally (and somewhat subconsciously) do, I was terrified. I had looked her right in the eyes this time to notice that they, as well as the rest of her body, had been altered by some digital means to enhance them to a level of whatever perfection was needed. Both eyes had three silvery white glimmers to make her look more perky, more awake, beaming, or enticing, and it seemed as though she had no soul.. no identity left about her at all.

....

This was an ad for hair dye, a product to change appearance, with a slogan that being blonde isn't that great after all. I mean, of course not, when you could look like her instead. And yet, the model isn't even good enough to sell the product anymore that marketing felt some need to make her over and then go the extra step to tweak and stroke over her picture to take away any sign that she is still human.

How superbly representative of our times! I can't help but think of Simulation and Simulacra and it's contention that we have reduced reality in the reproduction of it, and here, we have even reduced the reproduction. It isn't even an image of an image anymore, but something wholly invented designed to affect how we think about the world. It is distortion rather than representation and it is very essentially dehumanizing.

The line occurs to me from Patti Smith's "Babelogue:" "We worship the flaw, the mole, the mole on the belly of the exquisite whore," which has always struck me as, despite the rest of the song-poem, a very well-formed appreciation for the "dappled things" in the world, an appreciation for the world in it's varied splendor, and an embrace of imperfection as, yes, part of what makes us human. How healthy is it to pretend a thing is as it is not?

In his excellent Letters to a Young Catholic, George Weigel relates a story where a priest once commented to him that he believe he would have to spend the rest of his life convincing people that death and suffering are good for them. I think he may very well be right. We live in an age where we can get surgery to improve our looks or pop a pill to grow us hair and in every way defeat some very basic things about what it means to be human. We have decided, it seems, that there is nothing in suffering worth getting, and if there is, well, we don't want it, and if we do, we'd rather not endure the unpleasantness. So, we have decided we can't even be bothered to endure the most mild and basic form of unpleasantness: not being staggeringly beautiful according to the modern mode.

I've said before that everything matters, and nothing is in vain, but as a society, we have decided that we are malleable. That our form is irrelevant. We can change our faces, buttocks, even our sex, if we can afford it. Nothing is built in; the forms are incidental.

We are, to put it mildly, minds in a shell, and every effort should be made to remodel that shell until it is more cosmetically pleasing. Missina above makes a very bold, very daring claim: that her improved level of perfection made her less, not more, than she was before. That being enhanced meant being reduced. I think she hit the nail on the head.

Reprise the theme song and roll the credits

2005-02-12T12:05:00.001-08:00

Ok, so I couldn't think of a title for this post. 20 points if you can identify the quote above.

Just want to publically thank 2005 Catholic Blog Awards "Best New Blog" award-winner Stephen Sanchez over at Being! Or Nothingness for the glowing link.

It's a beautiful day!

The World Writ Large

2005-02-10T16:38:00.000-08:00

A good friend of mine in a recent message board post said that "Life is a chore." I had to reply.

I don't think life is a chore. This isn't some test; this is everything! Our being-ness and the world's being-ness is a reflection of God's being-ness. God has this world overflowing with purpose and meaning and sacramental glory, wonder, beauty, and our lives now are not some insipid exercise, but a reflection of the life of God. God is a family, and so we have families. God relates to us - we relate to each other. God created the world, so we can build or farm or have children. The universe is vast, reflecting the vastness of God. The Earth is teeming with life because God is Himself life.

This is the world we have. We can cry for it, we can laugh at it, we can dance on it, and we can sleep in it, but we should never, ever say that it's a chore to live it. Life is, to quote the Polyphonic Spree, a wonderful slide. Just because the trees are hard to climb is no excuse not to climb them. Just because the Grand Canyon is far away is no reason not to drive there. And just because Heaven is life writ large is no reason to reduce this life. Remember - God created it, and so it is wonderful. No matter what the weather, it is always a beautiful day.

Shout Out and Let Out

2005-02-10T13:26:00.000-08:00

Shout out to my dad over at The Political Christian. I don't agree with everything he has to say - politically and especially not theologically - but I give honor where honor is due, so give him a visit.

Meanwhile, the Pope has left the hospital. I prayed for his health (and also, I prayed he would finally be given his rest; he has been a tireless servant for the People of God and I think he deserves it).

Thoughts on Symbols and Art

2005-02-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

These are just some thoughts and questions I've had recently on art and symbols, I have recently been trying to see the creation of art in an Incarnationalist way.

The natural world is a representation of the supernatural. It is in this that we see the meaning in all things because we see them in the context of the supernatural i.e. there true depth. It represents something, thus the symbol itself gains value because it is charged with the meaning of what it represents. Symbols are not arbitrary, they inherently have meaning, but this however does not presuppose that symbols are static. Their meaning changes depending on specific priorities or significance of the time. Thus the original meaning of symbols may be, and often are, lost. Symbols can either gain more significance than they already had, or less, or take a form that is not necessary measurable in terms of more or less. To interpret symbols of a past culture can be more difficult than one might imagine. We are currently in a culture that is radically different from certian past cultures and our interpretation can have both advantages and disadvantages. If we do not understand the values/beliefs or worldview of the past culture we may not fully grasp the significance of their symbols and the meaning behind them. We should somehow strive for more than just intellectual understanding of their culture. It is up for debate whether this is possible. Advantages we gain could be a more objective perspective not contained by that particular culture. As we gain advantage I also believe we gain disadvantage. There is a level that we can not perceive; how these symbols affected people from that time. It still must have root in us, the core of what it means to be human. In every age it seems to be lost somehow.

We recognize that symbols can be diluted from there original meaning. The natural world represents the supernatural world, thus are symbols of that reality. Although through understanding the incarnation, we see the spiritual world fused with the natural world, thus the world can be seen as possessing a spiritual reality; there is no longer a separation of the physical and spiritual, but a unification of it. Thus the supernatural can be found in the natural, the extraordinary in the mundane.

When talking about art, however, we are in somewhat a different place. For art is a representation of the natural world, which we already stated is a representation of the supernatural world. Thus from an incarnationalist perspective we have a representation of a representation in a piece of art. We also know that in this way, nature can ultimately be diluted. If a painter paints a tree, and then another painter paints a picture of the first painters painting of the tree, and so on. After a hundred representations of representations, we might end up with a painting that looks nothing like a tree at all, the question is: did the significance of the tree, the “essence” of the tree so to speak, get lost or transferred through the many different representations? I would proclaim yes, the “essence” of the tree did get transferred, because the tree directed the different representations. At some level the subsequent representations could not have been produced without the initial “tree” as the source of the representations.

What implications does this have for making art? As an artist what should this mean for my work? Is configuration significant?

Eclectic thoughts

2005-02-09T03:46:00.000-08:00

Ash Wednesday is such an important day of the year. And yet, it's rather odd to wish someone, "Happy Ash Wednesday!" It really is supposed to be a day of solemnity and prayer, so it doesn't really seem appropriate. When we say "Happy Birthday!" for example, it usually implies that we want the person to go out and paint the town red. Eat, drink, be merry, and dance until the sun comes up. That's all very well and good but it doesn't really seem like usual activities on day that is all about self-denial. But remember that there are different types of joy. There is a certain joy that comes with sitting quietly and petting your dog, which can be just as wonderful as playing Frisbee with her. But the happiness that comes from Ash Wednesday does indeed exist, it's just a little more understated. It's the joy of knowing that we are making a special effort to become closer to our Creator. Remember, in any relationship, the greatest intimacy can come from silence. So, to all I say, "Happy Ash Wednesday!"
But I have a further motivation for posting today. Although I am obviously a Catholic, Buddhism has always held a special fascination for me. The aspect of the faith that interests me the most is the concept of the "Middle Way". Basically, (and I apologize to any Buddhists if I got this wrong) this philosophy teaches to enjoy life in moderation. You seem to be equally screwed in any situation if you do to much or to little. The best example I can think of is the conundrum of government. There's an episode of "Futurama" in which the character Bender meets God (or a space probe that collided with God, we're never really sure). God says to him, "If you do to much, people become dependent on you. But if you do to little, people lose hope." (I'm paraphrasing here. Please don't rip out my throat, Futurama-nerds.)
This seems to apply to government. It seems that on a political scale, the Republicans criticize the Democrats for doing to much and the Democrats criticize the Republicans for doing to little. Both are detrimental. The challenge here is finding a middle path. But this can apply to any situation in life. Think of the old axioms, "Good things come to those who wait" and "He who hesitates is lost." They seem to contradict, don't they? I believe they only appear to at first glance. There is a time to be patient and a time to take action. The tricking is developing the wisdom through life experience to know which is which. The point ultimately is to never lean to far in one direction. If you do, you might fall off the face of the Earth. But that doesn't mean I think that a person shouldn't take a firm stance on things. Just that we should always consider all sides of situations and arguments.
Speaking of Futurama (a show cancelled before it's time, but that's a grievance for another board) humor is something that's very close to my heart. I'm an occasionally working stand-up comedian so humor is something I contemplate a lot. I recently saw a quote that stated, "Life is a tragedy to those who feel and a comedy to those who think." I think this summed up the two sides of the coin of storytelling. I said in my first post that laughter is an emotional response. I still believe that to be true, but I think more than that, it's an intellectual response. It drives me nuts when people say, "That was stupid, but funny!" I believe that if something is truly funny it appeals to your innate intelligence. The only kind of stupid comedy is the kind that doesn't make you laugh. Drama appeals to the heart but comedy appeals to the mind. But both appeal to the soul which is what makes them so valuable.
If I can, I'd like to write further on why I reject existentialism and nihilism. I believe that the philosophy of "nothing matters" stems from laziness and cowardice. There have always been and will always be people who want to take away the good things of the world (Anti-Abolishionists, Nazis, fascists, Communists, and now Terrorists). If life and things were meaningless then there would be no need to fight against these threats. "Life is meaningless" gives you an excuse to do whatever you want and not confront evil when it confronts you. If our freedoms were trivial, why combat those who would take them away? I believe that this philosophy came out of a desire to be indifferent. It takes endless effort to search for truth and to defend our ability to do so. If you don't care about anything, you never have to do anything. And indifference, laziness, and cowardice are artistic philosophies I don't want to be a part of.

Mea Maxima Culpa!

2005-02-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

Thanks to What A Mystery! for this one.

Some of Aristotle's observations on young men, which, like Vincent over at What A Mystery!, I find relevant.

Young men have strong passions, and tend to gratify them indiscriminately. Of the bodily desires, it is the sexual by which they are most swayed and in which they show absence of self-control.

They are changeable and fickle in their desires, which are violent while they last, but quickly over: their impulses are keen but not deep-rooted, and are like sick people's attacks of hunger and thirst.

While they love honour, they love victory still more; for youth is eager for superiority over others, and victory is one form of this.

They have exalted notions, because they have not yet been humbled by life or learnt its necessary limitations; moreover, their hopeful disposition makes them think themselves equal to great things -- and that means having exalted notions.

And of course,

They think they know everything, and are always quite sure about it; this, in fact, is why they overdo everything.

Shook Foil

2005-02-01T14:49:00.000-08:00

It was recently asked on a message board I frequent "What do you believe about the spiritual world?" I had to respond.

There is no "spiritual world" as distinct from the "natural world." The two are one and the same.

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

GM Hopkins

Particularly, focus on the first two and last two lines. "The world is charged with the granduer of God. It will flame out like shining from shook foil...Because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings." We live in a world created by God; does it not, then, follow that this world is "charged with the grandeur of God," that is, every mite and particle, every speck of dust and every tree, every wave and every ocean, every building, star, cloud, they are all part and parcel of the same universe, run by the same God who can make the sun dance or raise a man from death. Why should we seperate the two? God works in the world; the world is good, created for good, an image of the Image of God. "Luminous beings are we!" In fact, the whole of the world is luminous.

Why should we seperate the natural from the supernatural? Does God merely work in vague, ethereal "spiritual" means, or is there, in fact, purpose for every single thing that happens, every little mouse that lies asleep in the grass, every blade of that grass, and the dirt itself in which it grows?

Apologies to Jackson Pollack

2005-01-28T09:12:00.000-08:00

I would like to clarify that my recent post On Deconstructing Art and Literature was not meant to denounce modern art. I disagree with the philosophical aims of men like Pollack and Mondrian, but do respect them and their art. Deconstructionist-reductionist art and writing arose naturally, and, no, I do not believe that these men and women were consciously setting out to demolish the visual and language arts. The were creatures of their time, caught up in the prevailing mood of the age, each one taking their work in what they felt was the next logical progression.

The Cubists, for example, meant to challenge our perceptions - do we really see static images (representationalism), or do we in fact see moving images from many angles, a la Duchamp's "Nude Descending a Staircase?" These kinds of questions - and their resulting answers - were original and provocative, and I do not deride these men for asking them, nor do I necessarily condemn the conclusions they reached.

What I dislike is what happens when you add it all together, although, I look at the empty lot that once was art, and I have to ask myself whether or not it was really a bad thing that it happened, because it certainly opens up an oppurtunity. Myriad oppurtunities, really, to rebuild it, avoiding the excesses of the past, and really, seriously make sacramental art.

r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r - On Deconstructing Art and Literature

2005-01-27T16:42:00.000-08:00

I was planning on attending a lecture here at VCU called "Post-Modern Heretics - The Catholic Imagination in Modern Art" today, but they ran out of seats. So instead, my partner in crime Erik and I discussed the following.

r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

  who

a)s w(e loo)k

upnowgath

 PPEGORHRASS

       eringint(o-

aThe):l

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    !p:

S         a

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rIvInG .gRrEaPsPhOs)

   to

rea(be)rran(com)gi(e)ngly

,grasshopper

That mangled text is actually a poem by EE Cummings, which I have, of late, been thinking about. In those few lines, Cummings has reduced written language to its barest essentials - markings on a page. Letters. This reductionism led him to approach poetry from a different perspective, wherein he tried to remove poetry's relationship to music - that is, it being something that exists in time and has transformed it into something exists in space. Since, strictly speaking, orthographical characters are simply figures which we interpret to represent sound, and thus, language, this is a perfectly valid thing to do. The point, however, is that Cummings attempted - and succeeded - to write a poem where the characters do not mean what they should mean, and instead are images that fill space. Written language has been reduced to its most basic.

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.
Susie Asado.
Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.
Susie Asado.
Susie Asado which is a told tray sure.
A lean on the shoe this means slips slips hers.
When the ancient light grey is clean it is yellow, it is a silver seller.
This is a please this is a please there are the saids to jelly. These are the wets these say the sets to leave a crown to Incy.
Incy is short for incubus.
A pot. A pot is a beginning of a rare bit of trees. Trees tremble, the old vats are in bobbles, bobbles which shade and shove and render clean, render clean must.
Drink pups.
Drink pups drink pups lease a sash hold, see it shine and a bobolink has pins. It shows a nail.
What is a nail. A nail is unison.
Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.

Gertrude Stein's "Susie Asado" deconstructs spoken language at a very basic level. Cummings tore apart single words - Stein is ripping English to shreds. Stein, who is responsible for "a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose...," always maintained that words have beauty apart from their meaning, and so she reduced English to an assortment of words as sound rather than words as concepts. "Susie Asado" exists purely as an arrangement of sounds; here, Gertrude Stein has no meaning or message or purpose or point other than to arrange these words, these sounds, in a pleasing way. As Tolkein once said, the most beautiful phrase in English, "cellar door," is utterly bereft of meaning, so Stein pauses to appreciate these sounds apart from their definitions and associations. She has, like Cummings, above, come down to the bare essentials of language.

Above, Jackson Pollack does the same with art. His philosophical approach was the reduction of art to, once again, the barest essential - paint. Like Cummings, the elements of painting became themselves the subject, and he drove home the fact that every single painting is essentially nothing else than paint and a canvas. His art made this abundantly clear. His goal was to strip representation and association and, very fundamentally, meaning itself from painting.

The same can be seen, yet again, above in the work of Piet Mondrian, who's approach to art was more Stein than Cummings, taking a different view on what constituted the basic aspect of art - the image - and reducing that to its bones.

In the 20th Century, art and literature were torn apart and rendered incoherant, impotent, and meaningless. Everything from the poetry of Cummings and Stein to the art of Pollack and Mondrian represent a sort of all-encompassing artistic nihilism wherein the most basic aspects of what makes art art - and humans human - are called into question and ultimately rejected. It comes as no surprise, then, that hanging in the National Museum of Fine Art is a single canvas painted pure white - even Mondrian and Pollack were rejected and painting was further reduced to the very canvas on which it is painted. Art has become purely conceptual - exercises in ideas, ideas with which we are growing very, very tired. When the art being produced is being looked at by the common man who shrugs and says "Well, artists have always been pretty wierd," something is seriously wrong.

Art is no longer edifying. Art is no longer inspiring.

It is obtuse, idiosyncratic, self-contained, and purposeless. Ultimately, it has been deconstructed from meaning to meaninglessness.

If all we have left is a blank canvas, we have very little. But it is on this that we intend to build. I think it's clear that they ediface of art has been torn down. Should we not then reconstruct it? This will not be a quick and easy action; it will be a long, slow, trial-and-error endeavor in which we, at first, struggle to find our footing and then, struggle to take the next step. Erik Teter and I have been considering going back to primitive forms and working forward; for him, it could mean attempting primitive tribal art, and for me, it could mean rejecting the novel as a medium, at least for a time. Most essentially, though, we're searching for a place to lay the foundation for art.

More to come in the future on this.

Thanks

2005-01-25T05:22:00.001-08:00

My thanks to Amy Welborn at Open Book for the shout out on the 24th. It is much appreciated. I hope now someone, actually reads the damn thing.

So, there haven't been any updates since the inauguration, mostly due to laziness on my part. Also, school. But mostly laziness, which is probably my greatest (or worst?) sin. Alas for sloth.

Since I can't really think of anything to post, I'll direct you through my admittedly small daily blog roll.

I generally start the day by reading CNN.com and Google News. It's good to know what's going on in the world.

After that, I move on to the excellent God-beat blog GetReligion, which is quite possibly the best blog on the web (judging on the very small number I actually read).

From there, Ut Unum Sint and the aforementioned Open Book feed me with prolific posting on the various minutiae and events in the Catholic world, and NewPolitics1 feeds me with everything political (after the demise of Politics1.com).

I then roll over to What A Mystery! for some good reflection and contemplation.

Then, sometimes, I go over and read Christianity Today's blog, and occassionally, Howard Dean's Blog For America. I'm a populist and I respect Dean for organizing on the grassroots level. But that's neither here nor there.

I used to read MichelleMalkin.com, but she spent way too much time pushing her book on the readers, and she's really too conservative for my taste. I'm hardly a liberal, but she's Rush Limbaugh distilled and reconstituted as an Asian woman.

The Shape of Things

2005-01-20T06:18:00.000-08:00

The following was written by my good friend, local actor and writer Ian Koranek.

One of my favorite plays is “The Shape of Things” by Neil Labute. A character in said play, Evelyn, says something along the lines of, “I come from a long line of people who don’t believe in the authority of any religion or government. We believe that only art matters.” If I believed that this statement was the message of the play, I would have hated it. However, what I got from the play is a rejection of that philosophy, and that’s part of the reason why I enjoyed it so much.
Art is not the be all and end all. The purpose of art is to remind us of what’s important. To give us a deeper appreciation of the things that really matter: spirituality, family, friendship, and romance. Art exists to entertain us, inspire us, inform us, make us think, but most of all, to make us feel. We feel when we experience art because all of us have a deep understanding of what it means to be human. When a piece of art reveals truth we respond to it on a meaningful level because it speaks to our common humanity.
It was once said that “comedy is what man is, tragedy is what man ought to be”. Usually in comedy, the characters act selfishly and greedily. We laugh because we realize that these character’s actions are wrong. Many people devalue the television sitcom because they dismiss it as mindless fluff. Although this is true for many of them, there are a few still around that cleverly satirize the human condition. And they are therefore, art. Laughter, by the way, is a legitimate emotional reaction. Humor is a wonderful gift from God. And comedy, in any medium reminds us of what’s important by giving us characters who have forgotten what matters. (Although they usually learn their lesson by the end of the episode.)
I reject existentialism because it’s a cop-out. Life and art are about the search for meaning and truth. If your philosophy is that there are no such things, then you have too easy an answer. Why even make art at all? To take away “false” hope? Why even bother if nothing matters? We must continue to make and experience the visual, language, and performing arts to celebrate the beauty of life. As a Catholic artist, I am making it my mission to entertain people by following the philosophy of Incarnationalism for the rest of my life.

Well played.

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose

2005-01-20T00:14:00.000-08:00

Do words mean anything?

The question might seem silly at first. We are, after all, quite used to asking what a word "means," that is, its definition. We associate words with concepts, things, or simple grammatical function (where words like "if" cannot be really "defined" per se, except by that function). By their very nature, we assume, words have meaning.

Of course, we can "strip" a word of its meaning by repeating it again and again until it becomes little else than a sound issuing forth from our lips, ceasing to be a recognizable, understandable word to our ears. But this is an entirely subjective activity and doesn't quite address the question I'm asking, but it raises an interesting question: If words have meaning, how can we so easily rip from them that purpose, just by mere repetition?

It seems obvious that our words are arbitrary - sounds to which we have assigned meaning: "Dog" could just as easily describe what we call a Probiscis monkey as much as it can what we call a dog. Words, then, in this worldview, carry no inherant meaning but only that foisted upon them by the society which lifts them above being mere gibberish to that honor of being "words."

And yet, for us, language carries immense significance: it unifies cultures and communities; it serves to distinguish one group from another; they provide us with the basic concepts to which we adhere. Language makes thought as we know it possible, and, if we had a drastically different language, we would think in drastically different ways. As Orwell has it, if your culture lacks a word for "freedom," how can you understand the concept of freedom? I have many times struggled to describe a vision in my head that lacks a corresponding word, and find myself very limited by my language. In English, we are lucky enough to be able to construct new words from old ones, a freedom lacking in many other languages, and are more than happy to go borrowing. To quote James Nicoll, English also has an amazing propensity to not so much borrow words from other tongues as to "[pursue] other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and riffle their pockets for new vocabulary."

But I digress from the question at hand: Do words have inherant meaning?

More to the point, if they do, have we stripped them down? Is the language we speak a bare carcass?

Has our cultural obsession with irony and sarcasm torn from our language its meaning?

I have yet to reach a conclusion on this issue, but I think there is something arguable. We are so consumed with a love for sarcasm and irony that so often we speak and, without saying what we mean, are resolutely understood. At least two sarcastic phrases have passed into the general lexicon: "yeah, right," and "whatever." The first, a statement of affirmation masking disbelief, has actually lost its meaning, and the same can be said of "whatever" - formerly a sarcastic concession to another's will, but now meaning either disregard or callous disregard.

Can we trust words?

We have been trained by literature teachers to seek a deeper meaning in poetry and prose, often disregarding the actual words used in favor of an assumed metaphor. The horse ceases to be a horse and becomes the writer's mother, or represents instead "conceptual strength" rather than "literal horse." In striving for deeper meaning, we obscure the literal meaning, and this weakens our ability to trust words. We become suspicious of what we read and ask "What was the author really trying to say?" Thus we assume that what was written is nothing more than a clever puzzle for us to solve, not something to be savored on its own.

(I did say incarnationalism was concerned with meaning, did I not?)

Time to Feel the Softest Blow

2005-01-16T20:46:00.000-08:00

In a recent post on zboard.net, a person who shall remain anonymous said "nothing makes one Christian holier then another."

I disagree vehemently; holiness is most certainly a property possesed of a person; how closely they live the life of Christ, so to speak. How wholly they have given themselves up to the radical, revolutionary life of service and self-donation, who wholly they do not live for themselves, but for others. That's holiness.

And I will cite as precedent Bl. Theresa of Calcutta, the famous Mother Theresa. She, feeling the call, literally left everything to go to the poorest parts of the world and care for others. She lived a life of poverty and service, was bothered by the attention she recieved, and all this despite her frequent doubts - she acted in faith in the work to which Christ calls all of us.

Yeah, I'd say she's holier than I. I, I, who knows to what the Gospel calls me and still doesnt do it, despite knowing that not doing it is making me miserable, I, whose prayer life is lately practically nonexistant but always advises others to pray. Yeah, I'd say she's holier than I. Does that mean she's a better Christian? Yes. Yes it does. I hold her up as an example of what I should strive for. It is utterly foolish to remove from a person any recognition of superiority at something because it means that all of our achievements are essentially meaningless. I will not live that nihilistically.

For another example, yes, I'll cite Pope John Paul II. He is one of the most brilliant Christian thinkers of the past few centuries, and he continues to traverse the globe preaching the love of Christ even as his body crumbles about him. He is in pain most of the time and has difficulty getting through the day. Any sane person would retire, but he will not; he has said "If Christ had come down off of the Cross, I would feel free to retire."

Holiness is service, wisdom, living for others, and suffering joyfully in the knowledge that nothing is in vain.

It's attitudes like that that turn me off Protestantism. I will live my life trying to better myself while he sits in his room, content that he's just as good as everyone else.

N'Ayez Pas Peur

2005-01-16T19:34:00.000-08:00

Peace, everyone. First, introductions, and second, a post.

Welcome to The Incarnationalist Blog, Where Everything Matters. The title of the blog, "Love the Life You Choose," comes from the song "When the Fool Becomes a King" by The Polyphonic Spree, a band which seems to grasp the basic worldview upon which I intend to expound. A basic aspect of incarnationalism is, ideally, an irrepressible joy for life. Of course, human nature will often supersede ideals, so I do not guarantee endless giddiness and glee.

I'm Brian MJ Visaggio, a 20-year-old English student at VCU and burdgeoning writer and thinker. I'm a convert to the Catholic Church as of Easter 2001 (at the tender age of 16) and am pretty certain I'll be joining a religious order. In the meantime, I'll blog. I've maintained a livejournal for over a year, and also a website, Seatbelt Blue, which serves primarily as my writing portal.

It's odd how many of my interests revive around the very nihilism I'm out to challenge. As far as pertains to art and literature, I am stuck in the 1920's Expat community - Hemingway, Stein, Crosby, Cowley, Man Ray, Ezra Pound, James Joyce - and in fact, my current project is set in that very community. I'm fascinated and repulsed by movements like Dada and Surrealism which extoll the same nihilism I war against. Musically, I'm a very different animal; I am drawn to music fighting the same fight: The Polyphonic Spree, Ben Harper, and Counting Crows, all of which are very much aware of the beauty and purpose which permeates every part of the world.

***

I have had the most incredible week of my life. Nothing much happened, per se, but everything seemed to line up. Convergence, my friends, is the great simplifier. All the things that look complex and difficult and all of the pain and feelings of waste vanish when they synchronize. Instead of discord and conflict, you see patterns, motions, and waves of attraction that previously acted against each other, preventing any progress. Now, all of them match and point in a single direction and, confidently, send you there.

It is dancing and exulting and revelling in creation. It is knowing that the world overflows with purpose and meaning, that "the world is charged with the grandeur of God." You can almost fly, so high are you, and you can almost cry, so happy. You look outside and you don't see filth and poverty but instead the Kingdom, adazzle and dim with the mottled and specked splendor of the world. You take it as it is; you have neither wide-eyes naivete or grim, nihilistic pessimism. The world is imbued with purpose, the good and the ill, which you can finally see.

It's about finding out what it means to be human. Is it human to live for one's self or for others? Is the ultimate value pleasure or service?

I cannot fathom any means to express it. It's about living the lives we were intended to live, living with God, that is truly being human.