Monday, February 12, 2007

I think they were Muslim.

This past Friday I experienced a documentary that has inspired me to vote from here on out. I'm not quite left wing, not quite right. I believe I'm what you call a social liberal, fiscal conservative. However, I don't vote in presidential elections because I think the electoral college is completely whack, and in fact, I almost wrote a paper about it in grad school...

Anyways, I watched a film called Jesus Camp, and it seriously blew my mind. The filmmakers basically follow a few kids around right before and during a time they spend at a church camp in North Dakota. Seems pretty boring, except for the fact that these kids come from fundamentalist evangelical families. In other words, Pentecostals. And by Pentecostals, I mean those people who get all jiggy in church, seize up on the floor, speak in tongues, etc.

The woman who organizes the church camp is more or less brain washing these kids into joining an army of God, who are here to support the United States of America and George W. Bush. A particular scene in the movie portrays a woman holding a life-size cardboard cutout of GWB, to which the children are all asked to send a blessing, and welcome him to their camp. Riiiiight... But the truly frightening part is that if these children don't grow up and end up as strippers or crack dealers, they're going to be trying to take my social freedoms away or will be the next Timothy McVey.

This film is also set during the time when Sandra Day O'Connor left the Supreme Court and GWB's ultra-conservative nomination gained the position (can't recall his name now). We also get a visit with Ted Haggard, the "leader" of the evangelical nation, who turned out to be paying a male prostitute for sex and meth. Watch the movie... he is a complete jerk to this young kid with a rullet (a rat tail that is nearly a mullet) who likes to preach the Word to his friends (or whoever will listen), and is clearly totally self-absorbed, being the leader of a group of delusional Jesus freaks. I can't even imagine a more hypocritical situation in my wildest dreams...

I don't want to spoil the uncomfortable moments and ridiculous ideas these ignorant zealots hold close to their hearts, but they include anti-abortion (of course), the "fact" that global warming doesn't exist (and they're trashing the planet while they're here because Jesus is coming back tomorrow), and the idea that people who don't go to the crazy, clap your hands and scream to God churches don't have God in their churches at all (I guess this includes me and my Episcopalians, who do the stand-sit-kneel routine). The point is, we social liberals need to exercise out right to vote and be heard, because unfortunately people like me who are just sort of incapable where politics are concerned are not as motivated to go stand in front of the Lincoln Memorial in freezing weather at a Pro-Choice rally as these people are. And they don't know any more about it than I do. The difference is that they don't care if they're made a fool. In fact, I don't even think they know they possess such a wide range of misinformation and have made complete imbeciles of themselves.

I will share with you the moment the title from this blog came from. One of the young zealots approaches a group of middle-aged-to-elder African American men in a park who are playing cards or dominoes or something and says, "If you were to die today, do you know where you'd go?" The man answers, "To Heaven," and she says, "Well, are you sure?" to which he replies, "Yes." So she says, "Ok," and proceeds to run back across the street, fellow Magic Christian children in tow, and says, "I think they were Muslim."

These kids are frighteningly ignorant by no fault of their own. I feel so sorry for them and their home-schooled asses.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

TV is life.

Life sans cable is barely livable. Days like this (i.e. my days off when I don't have many errands to run, etc.) make me want to claw my eyes out. If I had money, I'd be at Target (and then I'd watch TV later). If my eyes weren't burning and I didn't have a lingering sinus headache from this cold I'm getting over, I might read. The boredom has caused lethargy and all I want to do is watch some flipping A&E (or Bravo if they're showing Top Chef or Project Runway reruns).

I don't feel inspired to write about anything of consequence, unless you all are interested in hearing about how sometimes I park in my parking garage and start to walk to my apartment until I get this very "The Shining" feeling and realize I'm walking down the corridor of the third level, when I live on the fourth... When I figure it out, I'm always waiting for two little girls to start pedaling after me on their plastic three-wheelers.

Being broke and not having cable really sucks. I should probably start donating plasma so I can at least get some basic channels to flip between and a sweet scar on my arm...

Thursday, February 01, 2007

I need help.

So most of you know that pretty much my only passion (if you can call it that) is writing. I do it for fun, when I'm bored, when I'm angry (or sad, clearly), when I think something is amusing and/or confusing, etc. Anyways, so I need to narrow it down a tick so I can start writing for the riz-eal, get my stuff out, and if my Karma turns around, get paid for doing what I totally heart.

So how can I narrow it down? Many of you who read my MySpace blog haven't (or won't) read my Blogspot blog, and vice-versa, but fortunately since like September or something of last year, they contain the same posts. Now before that, I have humorous postings about Ruidoso, music, fashion, bartending and waiting tables, grad school, etc. on the Blogspot blog. I could blog leagues (yes, I just used a nautical measurement to describe writing) about love and relationships a la Carrie Bradshaw, but I don't want my family reading the sordid (or lack thereof) details of my personal life (or lack thereof). I have secrets... from everyone except my mom, so if you want to know anything about me, ask her. Somehow she's managed to know me better than I know myself...

What do you think? If I keep writing about Matt, he's going to kick my ass eventually. Those writings and others yet to be may someday be a book, but for now I'd like to focus on something people want to read (unless someone knows about a magazine for the bereaved...).

Should I stop caring about what my dad might think and start writing about relationships? Should I get Fuse and start writing about how Jared Leto needs to choose between music and acting? Should I blog about Starbucks and the fleecing of America (hahaha)? My dog?

I highly value your opinion. Thank you.