And…silence

In the wake of this whole St. Joan controversy, Katherine Kersten wrote a column on it for the Star Tribune.  KK is the Strib’s equivalent to, well, I’m not sure.  A woman who is strong in her conservative and religious convictions (neither of which I have a problem with, and many times I do agree agree with her positions), but often uses faulty logic or the omission of fact to make her arguments (which I don’t agree with).  Some of my friends were, for awhile, a bit obsessed with picking apart her thoughts and hypocrisies (of which there are many).  One awesome dude even made this tshirt.  I read her blog everyday.  I find it makes me strive to be a better writer and avoid fallacies in my arguments.  And then I read all the comments for the stupid things that make me laugh (and there are always many).

She timed it to come out on the Sunday of Pride.  Since I had just written a blog entry on my take on the topic, I wrote her an email with a link to it (full text of my email after the jump).

And I also offered her two comp tickets to the opening night of Tipping the Bucket.

I have heard nothing.

However, the next day’s entry on her column was entitled “more mini-golf and fishing for the disabled, but no monkeys“.  A subtle shoutout to our favorite traveling simian, perhaps?

I didn’t expect to hear anything.  I am all too familiar with the types that make their grandiose opinions heard and then refuse to sit down and rationally discuss the issue with someone on the other side.

So, help me out.  Let’s get Katherine Kersten to the Fringe.

And here’s her email: kkersten@startribune.com

Who’s gonna help me?

Welcome!

note to readers: All new blog entries between July 1st 2008 and August 10th 2008 will appear under this post.

Did you find this site from the 2008 Minnesota Fringe Festival?  If you did, welcome.

Tipping the Bucket premieres at the U of M Rarig Center Arena Stage at 8.30pm on July 31st, with subsequent shows at:

• Saturday August 2nd, 7pm (ASL Interpreted!)
• Friday August 8th, 5.30pm
• Saturday August 9th, 4pm
• Sunday August 10th, 2.30pm

On the sidebar you’ll find a category named Myth Me.  This was the old title of the show, and much of the show grew out of musings in that category.

Peruse.  Have fun.

And we’ll see you at the Fringe.

–Allegra J. Lingo

Myth Me Musings (27): God Wants You To Renew Your Licenses

I’ve been following with great interest the ongoing saga between Mary Jo Copeland and the City of Minneapolis.  Mary Jo is the founder and director of Sharing and Caring Hands, and is pretty much waging war against the City because she feels that they are threatening to take away her license to serve food at her shelter because they want her businesses to be closed, owing to the fact that they are within home run distance of the new Twins Stadium.  She has held a press conference full of bible-thumping, and told the mayor that if he is against her, he’s against God.

Here’s what the issue boils down to: her license is up for renewal.  The city has placed pressure on her to do something regarding security issues around her shelter–drug deals, aggressive panhandling, etc.  And her defensive attitude is that they’re putting new measures on her because they want to get rid of the homeless in that area because of the new stadium.

First of all, Mary Jo, don’t you want to get rid of homeless in that area?  Because isn’t that what your job is all about?  I don’t trust people who both run “non-profit” organizations (I say that because their net assets last year were over $18 million, while expenditure was $5 million) for causes such as homelessness while simultaneously adopting a holier than thou attitude that they are doing God’s will.  Because, really, if they completed their God-Given mission of eradicating the homeless issue, they wouldn’t have a job or a business any more.  Which leads me to believe that they aren’t really interested in actively solving the problem.  A Munchausen by-proxy situation in the name of service.

The city is not asking them to relocate, nor are they asking anything that they would not ask of any other business.  They are asking them to meet current licensure requirements, and pay for that license.  They’ve stated that they have 17 security cameras that are monitored.  The Star Tribune article has a picture of one of the monitors that is supposedly used to watch the cameras at all times.  Here’s a picture:

Maybe it’s just me, but that looks like a wide-screen flat-screen TV.  Is it wrong of me to assume that if the wanted to have something to just watch security footage, it’d be a bit cheaper model?

So Mary Jo, here’s what I propose.  Stop your holier than thou bitching and quoting the bible during press conferences.  Accept the notion that the City is also interested in the welfare of the people whom you service.  Make the changes they want you to so that you can keep your license.  And then pay it.

God wants you to renew your license.

Myth Me Musings (25): A new spiritual home

I’m currently trying to find a new church home in Minneapolis, and I’m having issues.  The problem is, I’m a less than traditional Catholic, what with the whole gay liberal thing.  The problem is, I crave pretty much as traditional a worship as I can find.  Except, any church that has anything about accepting gay and lesbian parishoners–not just “loving the sinner, hate the sin” vernacular, tend to be the ones with anything BUT traditional services.

Am I destined to worship in a non-traditional way just by being a non-traditional Catholic?  I can’t be the only one who would like a little Latin in my homily.

Myth Me Musings (22): Meet The Jespersens

I.

Thursday night I spent a couple hours at Zoe’s house, chatting and trying to put my brain in some semblance of order when my mom called to tell me that the viewing was not at the “normal funeral home, it’s at the other one.” And the word “normal” in that instance made complete sense to me.

II.

Friday at the viewing, we sat in an empty pew a few rows behind the rest of the family.  I watched as my uncle’s family (he was my cousin through my mom’s sister) all sat there, bawling their heads off.  And I looked at my family, none of us shedding a tear.  Our family was the one who spent the most time with him–the majority of holidays, etc.  Was they’re crying obligatory tears, because they felt that’s what they were supposed to do?  Or was it that we’ve lost so much in a few short years that our wells have pretty much run dry?

III.

The pastor at the viewing decided to take the opportunity to remind us that tragic accidents are a not-so-subtle hint from God that the next day is never guaranteed, and we should use this as a sign to examine our own relationship with the one true Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amy and I decided to turn the weekend into a drinking game.  Any instance of prostelyzation (can’t spell that word.  Can hardly pronounce it) would equal a shot.  Good thing we didn’t actually do it, otherwise we would have never been able to drive home.

After the jump, continue reading Myth Me Musings (22): Meet the Jespersens

Myth Musings (21): A death in the family

Some more information has come out on the accident that my cousin was killed in this morning, hitting the evening news and creating a subsequent comment thread.  Apparently, there are a lot of people praying for us right now.  I’ve never been one to tell people I know that I’m praying for them, let alone strangers.  Do these posters really sit down for their evening prayers (and, really, does anyone do that any more, or do we just leave it up to the prayer circles at churches to do for us?) and say “And oh yeah, I pray for the family of Lane Parson, no wait, that wasn’t his name, Lance? really, people other than soap opera characters name their child Lance?  You know, Father, the guy that caused that big bus accident this morning?  Yeah.  I pray for that family.  I wish I could remember the name, though.”  And what do these people have to gain by annonymously posting on a news site that they’re going to pray?  That’s one question in my mind tonight.

The other one is this, posed by my sister on the phone about an hours ago: our cousin Lauren, Lance’s younger sister, is one of the most religious people–the religious, maybe, in the way she professes her faith through her church actions and subsequent political and social views–that we know.  She not only lost her brother today, but just five years ago (or is it six now?  God, I can’t believe it’s been that long) lost her mother to breast cancer.  Two years ago, we lost our Grandfather who lived around the corner from that family, and I think growing up she spent more time with my grandparents than with her own parents.  So my sister posed the question: why does so much really bad stuff happen to someone with so much faith? 

Oh Boogie, if I knew the answer to that question, I would fulfill my big sister role and tell you.  Because that kid’s had a lot of course correction in her 21 years. 

I was sitting at band practice tonight and the second Alto turned to me and asked how my day was going.  I was obviously out of it, and said, “well, not great.  My cousin was killed in a car accident today.”  She answered, “oh no, is everything all right?” and the snarkiness “well, yeah, except for the him being dead part” escaped my mouth before I realized that the trombone had been warming up behind us and she’d missed the key verb in that sentence. 

I have a small family.  My mom had two sisters.  They each had two kids.  I’m the oldest of the six (now five) of us, my sister is the youngest.  We range in age from 21 – 28, spanning that first real adult decade that any human experiences.  I’m, well, the gay creative one, never content to doing anything less than chase my dreams.  Jordan, six months younger, got married to an awesome guy she met in college, they bought a house in somewhat rural Pennsylvania, and works as a counselor to troubled youth.  Her brother Taylor is a store executive at an IKEA in Arizona.  My sister and Lauren are still in school.  I am not all that close to them, I admit–but since the family is so small, we spent nearly every holiday together growing up, gathering in South Dakota at the grandparents’ house; Lance and Lauren walking around the block, my sister and I from Minneapolis, Jordan and Taylor from Salt Lake City.  With a family that small, your cousins become siblings of some kind. 

I won’t pretend that Lance wasn’t the black sheep.  Maybe that’s heartless to say the day he died, but it’s true.  I will show respect and not go into his black sheepedness here.  But this is going to be a hard weekend.  Not just because it’s always sad when a young person, or a family member, dies, especially in a tragic accident (actually, this is the first accident we’ve had), but because I’m going to have a hard time sitting in those pews and swallowing the hypocrasy when they talk about how good a man he was. 

And then I’m going to feel horrible, as horrible as I do right now typing that previous sentence, about the evil in me for even thinking those thoughts.

It’s time to go back to the First Baptist Church in Sioux Falls.  I wish it had been more than a year and a half.

Myth Me Musings (20): God and the Government

I was just doing my nightly blog check, and read this article on CNN’s 360 blog.  Basically it’s a commentary on Rev. White’s “God Damn America” speech that’s been widely talked about this week (I’m still waiting for the Obama supporters over at LME to weigh in on this speech–love you guys, but you know where I stand on the democratic nominees this year).  Here’s the ironic part to all of this: I agree with most of Rev. White is saying.

Those who know me know that I’m not too up on this country, and the way it is run.  By either side of the aisle.  It’s a farce to say that this is a secular state, that we have a separation of church and state when we’ve got Bush’s religious ideology guiding our international policy.   Our presence in Iraq is no better than the Muslim jihadists–we invaded because we think our ideas are better.  And we wanted their oil.  Isn’t one of the ten commandments not to covet?  Or something like that?  We are selfish, arrogant motherfuckers as a nation, who can’t possibly conceive that there is anything better than us out there.

I hate to tell you, dudes, but this week the U.S. became the second strongest economy, as the EU surpassed us. The government refuses to admit that we’re in a recession, or nearing one.  Why do we continue to live this arrogant way?  Why do other countries feed our collective ego, looking to us for their trends, a place where dreams still come true?

Dreams don’t fucking come true here.  Look at the struggles of so many of this nation’s citizens, working two or three jobs to make ends meet.

The only real religion this country has is capitalism.   Except people strive for it in the name of Christianity.  And that is an abomination not only to those true people of faith, but to economics and political theorists everywhere.

But if you get a chance, listen to the full audio of White’s speech on the above link.  It’s pretty powerful, whether you believe it or not.

Myth Musings (19): The Island

I’m sitting here watching tonight’s episode of Lost, an hour late ’cause, well, the Tower called. It’s good to see an episode that centers around Michael (Harold Perrineau). He’s been gone for a season and a half. But Perrinaeau is such an engaging actor. I’ve loved him ever since Baz Luhrman’s Romeo and Juliet when he played Mercutio.

We’ve got a flash…present(?) going on at the moment. Michael and Walt are back in the real world. Walt’s living with his grandma, won’t speak to Michael. And Michael’s despondent and trying to kill himself. But he can’t. Mr. Friendly (and finally! confirmation that he’s gay!) shows up as he’s on his second (that we’ve seen) suicide attempt, and Mr. Friendly tells him “you can’t kill yourself, Michael. The island won’t let you.”

Hmm.

So what does that make the island? The realization of destiny? That’s my newest theory. Sawyer needed to kill the man who caused the death of his parents? He just happens to be Locke’s father, who just happens to show up. Jack never knew he had a sister? Enter Claire, his half-sister from Australia (although he doesn’t know it yet). Sayid can’t find his long lost love, Nadia? Patchy just happens to have a cat. Named Nadia.

I’d love it if there was a physical manifestation of the realization of destiny. Where we, as free-will dominated human beings, could check in once in a while to make sure we’re still on course. But then I remember, my island’s inside me. In my soul, my heart, my mind. My capacity for thought and reason. My gut instincts.

Those are my islands.

I should probably watch the rest of the episode now.

Myth Me Musings (18): God’s Country

We did a show Monday at Emroy and Henry College in Emory, Virginia.  As much moaning I did about it being a) in the middle of nowhere with b) no bar open after the show to get in some St. Patrick’s Day action, I forgot to mention how absolutley beautiful that area is.  The tri-state region of West Virginia, Virginia, and Tennessee, back in Coal Mining country, surrounded by the Smokey Mountains, Shenandoah Valley, and Cumberland Gap is, I think, my favorite part of the country.  The only time I’ve been there before was on tour in October 2006 when we were playing shows.  I am very much affected by natural beauty (why I continue to live on the plains of the Midwest is a mystery to me sometimes).  It calms me, puts my small insignificant life in perspective, demands reflection on my existence.

Before the show we were outside smoking and talking to the sound and light guys, and we remarked how gorgeous the area was.

“Of course it is,” said Pickle, the sound man.  “It’s God’s Country.”

No irony or sarcasm in his voice.  Just stating a fact.  I think it’s hard not to be a believer in something larger than ourselves when being in that area.  It’s no wonder it’s part of the Bible Belt (probably removed from large metropolitan areas also has something to do with this, but I digress).   The air is fresher.  Even the frickin’ interstate is view after view after view.

I started driving back home today (currently writing this from my hotel in Madison, Wisconsin.  Couldn’t quite convince my body to drive those last four hours after already driving twelve), leaving Greeneville, Tennessee around 7am.  The way that AAA routed me necessitated about 100 miles before meeting up with an Interstate.  I couldn’t have been happier about that–all through Tennessee, and about a third of Kentucky, on US highway 25.  I love driving early in the morning, especially in this time of the year.  No, the leaves aren’t on all the trees yet, so between the leafed trees rise bare branches, like ghosts mingling with the early morning mist.  The sun begins to peak out over the Eastern horizon, sillouhetting the mountains.  At one point there was a sign for a scenic overlook.  I’m not an idiot.  The whole drive had been pretty and this was the first view they’d designated as “scenic”.  I pulled the car over, and looked out.

And just burst into tears at the beauty.  Stretching before me was a valley, hidden amongst the hills I’d driven in the last two hours, a wide river snaking around before finally making its way towards a hidden outlet.

I didn’t take a picture.  It wouldn’t have done it justice, especially since the overall hues were still the morning grey, an oncoming storm looming over the Western edge.

I knew I couldn’t stay long, with what looked like a relentless storm rolling in (I was right–once I hit the Interstate, until I got to Illinois, it was a mix of heavy rain, hail, and freezing drizzle.  So much fun).

But before I left, I said a prayer of thanks.  To God for the beauty surrounding me.  To St. Christopher for continued safe travels.  And I added in thoughts to someone else, who I desperately wanted to be with me right then, sharing that moment.

At least one of the three heard my thoughts.  But I’m pretty sure the others did, too.

Myth Me Musings (17)

In the introduction to Isms is the following sentence:

No offence to any religion is intended by the authors, who remain strictly neutral with regard to the various truth claims of any tradition.

At face value this is your basic cover-your-ass statement by anyone who is writing about beliefs.  But the phrase that jumped out at me was “truth claims”.  I really like it.  To me, you can extrapolate that to say that what people believe is a claim on the truth, therefore turning “truth” into an object.  If there is one truth, but it is intangible, then that makes anyone and everyone’s claim valid.  And arguments are not made for or against a different truth, but rather the way in which we all choose to obtain it.  It allows for a truth to exist.

I have a hard time with the word “truth”.  If someone tells you “this is my truth”, you can’t argue with that, even if it’s different than yours.

I prefer “real”.  Real to me is grounded in the tangible, rather than the intangible.  Kind of the difference between physics and quantum physics.  Sure, at the end of the day it’s all theory.  But take the theory of gravity vs. the theory of relativity.  We see objects fall to the ground, and have come up with a mathematical equation to match what we see.  There is proof.  With relativity, it takes a concept (time, shape of the ever expanding universe) that we cannot see, but by employing mathematics we explain concepts that our human minds have a limited understanding about.

Real is reason.  Truth is faith.  They can be mutually exclusive.  They can be mutually inclusive.  That mutual inclusivity is, I think, what we all strive for and believe that we have when it comes to religion.  But truth is dangerous as well.  It is a powerful force.  What happens if real starts to contradict truth?  What do we do with that?

I think it’s a hell of a lot easier in that situation for real to become truth, rather than the other way around.

I have no idea what I’m trying to say with this post.  So I think I’ll just shut up now and go back to my present real, which includes sitting on my ass in my hotel room in butt-fuck Virginia with leftover pizza from last night for lunch and watching ER reruns on TNT.