A Wonderful Piece of Poem

I heard much of a poem recited by Sonja Sohn on an interview with NPR, here is a wonderful excerpt from "Run Free":

You can give birth to an excuse so easily, you'll believe it's always been there. Part of the natural order, made to order by your forever clever mind, constantly protecting you against things you no longer need to be protected from...and i believe. i believe like a holly roller singing sweating preaching go tell it on the mountain speaking in twenty different tongues while diving in ten thousand feet of baptismal water without a life preserver. i believe like my bullet-ridden brother out there somewhere right now gurgling blood through his last breath, spitting out a red ripe prayer so new so sweet so baby fresh so full of truths he thinks it can save his life. Brutal honesty won't knock down the doors of heaven, but it'll damn sure crash the gates of hell.^[1] (Italics original.)

What stood out to me was the last line I quote,

Brutal honesty won't knock down the doors of heaven, but it'll damn sure crash the gates of hell.

Given other content of the poem, and given rhetoric proposed for the movie "Slam", about finding "light", and so forth, through personal tenacity and creativity and rising above, I think of Voegelin's critique of the symbol usurped by modern ideology, but emptied of its context and substance, and becoming therefore dangerous, and I doubt the weighty significance of my favorite linejust given is understood by the author of this work for the eternal significance of such terms, and another figure comes to mind, Socrates, and his infamous "apology" in which he speaks of the poets,

After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity was laid upon me - the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by the dog I swear! - for I must tell you the truth - the result of my mission was just this: I found that the men most in repute were all but the most foolish; and that some inferior men were really wiser and better. I will tell you the tale of my wanderings and of the "Herculean" labors, as I may call them, which I endured only to find at last the oracle irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets; tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you will be detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of them - thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? I am almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there is hardly a person present who would not have talked better about their poetry than they did themselves. That showed me in an instant that not by wisdom do poets write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration; they are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do not understand the meaning of them. And the poets appeared to me to be much in the same case; and I further observed that upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to be the wisest of men in other things in which they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to the politicians.
--Apology by Plato, Translated by Benjamin Jowett, retrieved 2012-03-17 21:13PMST http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/apology.html

I must be clear, however, I don't doubt that these words are meaningful to the author; they are not, actually, significant only to her: they are quite clear to this reader as well. I know the religious symbols and milieu she describes personally. They are very concrete, and reflect her history. The brother gurgling blood certainly is: she spoke in her interview of her brother who was, sadly, gunned down. I have a former step-brother in prison right now, possibly for life after trials take place, and through him exposure to culture rather similar to that she describes growing up in; even hell as a metaphor here is certainly fitting, as the environment she speaks of growing up in was pretty bad, and perhaps she speaks of contending with it and the mindsets and excuses and things which caused herself and those around her to create and haunt such a milieu: I say create, for my brother certainly did not grow up in a ghetto, but he and those he associated with, through influence of pop and hip-hop cultures, certainly created something like it, and crime and violence, and dissolution: and their own misery--without being born into disadvantages like as those suffered by people who occupy famous "hoods".


[1] retrieved 2012-03-17 from http://books.google.com/books?id=6liXPQphOXUC&pg=PA70&lpg=PA70&dq=You+can+give+birth+to+an+excuse+so+easily,+you'll+believe+it's+always+been+there.+Part+of+the+natural+order,+made+to+order+by+your+forever+clever+mind,+constantly+protecting+you+against+things+you+no+longer+need+to+be+protected+from&source=bl&ots=MECpBNG46A&sig=Gp4WRkIiJLS8jEx8_L7oIlMsS9w&hl=en&sa=X&ei=ClNlT-HQOZKDsgL4ruG2Dw&ved=0CCEQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=You%20can%20give%20birth%20to%20an%20excuse%20so%20easily%2C%20you'll%20believe%20it's%20always%20been%20there.%20Part%20of%20the%20natural%20order%2C%20made%20to%20order%20by%20your%20forever%20clever%20mind%2C%20constantly%20protecting%20you%20against%20things%20you%20no%20longer%20need%20to%20be%20protected%20from&f=false

Baptism (or Ordeal) in Anguish

Reading the comments about caregiving agencies...

online I have found negative reviews about agencies, frequently complaining with statements like "the caregiver they sent was stealing things".

I moved to a relative's house in order to provide care and oversight because she has Alzheimer's, and lost my job because of it, which means I have had plenty of time to observe and interact with someone with Alzheimer's (and look for work, given that everybody wants you to apply online these days, and some still accept faxes; once employed again she'll have to be watched by her sister and maybe niece, both nearby).

Pretty much daily she accuses me of stealing her fanny pack, which she hides when we return home thinking people are after her money, and then can't find on the hook she consistently put her fanny packs on for around ten years (probably more). Today I learned from the words of her mouth that until my arrival she did just fine for years with her "six" cats (there are and have only been four cats in my presence), but "since you came I've lost two": each day she fights over the cats being unfed and starving, demanding food or demanding we go get some: we have around four 24-packs in the house of wet kitty food, and they are each fed half a can per meal twice a day with dry food between and overnight, but she can't remember ever doing this--often within minutes of feeding them, with fresh food in the dishes on the floor, and a just-emptied can in her hand, she starts demanding cans of food, and proclaiming, "but the food on the floor is this morning's/last night's! Besides the fanny pack, her teapot covers, the can openers (and frankly just about anything) goes missing randommly, often unfindably despite perhaps three family members pouring over her house, only to reappear later and inexplicably.

Early on we learned from her, or I should say from other people who she talked to I learned, there is another man in the basement who keeps her hostage, and then one who is sweet, nice, helpful, and so on. From a neighbor who came of "concern" I learned that, apparently, I have been bringing two young women into the house and taking them downstairs.

As far as men go, there is actually just me. So apparently I am a animal-starving sweet schizophrenic kidnapping kleptomaniac who the world would count as one of the luckiest guys ever, though (I would have to say for the last bit) still under the curse of God.

And the best part? When she says these things (and she does believe them certainly) she seems completely normal, witty, able to converse. There are many times she is not, and anybody who sees her will often notice how frail she is, but without extensive interaction and being there to know better, one might actually believe it, and never be the wiser. Her sister is just down the road, and we see her almost every day, and she comes to visit (or vice versa), and frankly my family knows me, so they know better. But this relative of mine was not some pathological, paranoid, delusional liar, who would make such things up about people, and from what bits of input she is able to retain about the world, and inferences she is able to make, and interpretative powers left to her, one can probably be certain there is no ill intent.

"The hostage taker", for example, may be due to the fact that even when she has her keys in her hand staring at them, she often does not recognize her house key. If she just takes them out as she approaches the door from outside, she will often use it: so long as she does so by feel, and not looking at it to determine which is which (or in other words, this tends to mean she only ever unlocks the door to get inside when we are returning in the dark and the porch light is not on). She has repeatedly accused me and the family of taking her keys (the ones we did are to the car, because she has lost her license, but would not accept it when she did, and does not remember now that she did: when she does, she calls neighbors and acquaintances and friends telling them she has never been seen by a specialist to be properly and thoroughly evaluated! Though she has. And then notices that I have one (a copy), so semi-regularly, when by some miracle she is up very early and feeling ambitious, I get an early wake-up knock to come unlock the door so she can let the dog out (she has a deadbolt with no knob) and then demands "I want a set of keys for my own home, I'm getting tired of this!" (Not repeating the ritual of coming for help, which she can't remember, but that she keeps finding herself unable to find (recognize) her keys).

The extra cats? She often looks for "the other" Fluffy, a cat she had when my mother was a teenager (and which the identically appearing and acting female she has is named after). I am guessing the other she is looking for either is one who was named Morris, and looked like a bigger version of her "Charlie", or the one named "DeWitta", whose "personality" and manner is just like that of Charlie.

But speculations aside, she is not rational. Glib, ordinary banter and gossip won't give it away. Try explaining, however, that the mail-order price reduction offer on a pendant from such and such company must be mailed in, even after she recognizes that (for some reason) she needs the postage paid return envelope to use it, must be mailed and cannot be taken to a store to be used, and she will insist we still go to the store to check.

"They don't have one".
"Let's go!!!"
"Which one [name]."
"Let's just go to it!!!"

Most times people today do not converse deeply, which means they do not argue, but merely comment and opine, adding to the "conversation" and smarminess, so someone like my relative is not going to be found out by outsiders without demanding detail that must be verified, or stating something convincingly, or asking her to strain herself a bit with an unfamiliar (so difficult) concept or thought, and then competently talk about and criticize it. This is not good: it is why she was almost able to starve herself to death before anyone realized something was the matter (you would be surprised how long someone can go without eating before changing appearance, and then only suddenly and rapidly losing weight). I said "detail that must be verified", by the way, because ask her details about the prior day, and she may fill you in completely (wrongly, and not knowing any better). With that comment on the poverty of the ever-"communicating" generation aside...

The whole point of all of this is, that if you have a relative with a disease like this, get involved, and don't farm all the work out to someone else: we get that you're busy, get over it and change your life. People like this need your help, and some poor Joe or Sally you hire for assistance and would fire for false accusation and bring thereby into ill-diserved disrepute really might be working to help, which is not to say that there are not bad caregivers out there and that you should not be careful, it's just I kept stumbling on the "s/he was stealing so we fired him/her; don't hire from these people" accusers who, interestingly enough, often consist of people who are not overly involved with their "loved" ones that are afflicted with conditions like this.

If you give a dang about someone in need, being busy or occupied with "more important things" are not realities (if true at all) that you will use to excuse yourself from coming to their aid, and that as long as necessary for whatever cost. If you are a caregiver, beware, as these things will come up, especially from someone growing paranoid and unable to reason, limited, losing their independence (rightfully due to incompetence, and probably before a declaration thereof if the diagnoses and extent of care I have seen from the doctors towards my relative are indicative of the modern medical ethos), and needing someone to blame (don't think for a moment they will accept explanations that they are having real issues, as many probably will not): perhaps be prepared to become a fixation for blame.

And then remember, however, suffering, loss, and giving in the provision of need towards those who require it, God requires of all men and women everywhere. Don't forsake such endeavors just for difficulty or danger. Don't lose heart.

Here I am.

If they were watered...

Rick Warren twits,

Twitter / Rick Warren: Stop expecting someone else to take responsibility for your growth."

Maybe if the so-called pastors actually preached the word, not about the word, not the word adorning their ideas, not the word in bits useful to their visions, not the word + their ideas, not the word + spices like adulterated wine, and not the word merely in hopes of growing numbers, but feeding sheep, then maybe, maybe the sheep would grow rather than wither and die in malnourishment and poisoning, trampled underfoot by the mobs brought in without a white gown and christened and assured falsely because of which the word of God is blasphemed while they mistake it for persecution for Christ's sake, and maybe then we could say that one plants, and the other waters, and of course then they would grow, that is, those who are sheep, while the numbers would shrink, with the false brethren being driven away by the stench of death which is the breath of life to all those being saved by God's intention.

And Hallelujah if it was unlike your teaching, trying to keep people from going out the back door when they do for all the right reasons, whether because they are not of His fold, or not regenerate yet, or because the preacher is a hireling, and not His undershepherd, no matter how influential, loved or interesting to the world, shocking, or massively followed, and they were driven out the front door, so that congregations of the dead--that were never alive, can be left that way, those given to Christ would be driven out to leave the dead to bury the dead; live Churches could be purged, whether by driving the false who blot their worship out, or converting them to new creatures, removing the stain, or even getting them who are genuine s voted out along with the true shepherds (perhaps in the name of discipline, and unity, and keeping peace "fort Christ"!) so they no longer need fret and morn in confusion at the disobedience that now passes for the way, or liberty, or Christian, and give thanks to God, and expose the counterfeits.

Maybe you haven't heard, but pastors are responsible for their flocks, and if not for growth, then they are, as was mentioned, for the things prerequisite to it.

Frankly, to the Warrenses of the world, someone else is responsible for the growth, whereas the sheep do nothing but hear Christ's voice, and word--the Father's, and follow, and abide, and that someone, is, GOD.

Dialogues & Conversations

The following are interesting projects and sites, and not necessarily religious or irreligious. Links thereto is in no way intended to endorse or imply endorsement, agreement, or approbation thereof.

The Good Men Project (Will for the moment  avoid commenting on the assumptions underlying the name and project.)




Time of original publication is set back by twenty minutes to make fall below another post of that day.

On fashion...

My aunt and I are agreed: looks like a blanket with sleeves. I suppose inspiration is taken from the transition between togas and shirts. She disapproves, I'm undecided.

(pic to be reoriented later at a real computer with complete software functionality: would that KDE or Gnome ran on Android)