Funny, God

7 02 2011

My mother is amazing.  Really.

She is incredibly smart, humble, gorgeous and totally naive about the world.  That makes her adorable.

The scene in my head that plays when I think of describing Mom is from Leverage Season 1 where Parker meets Nate’s ex-wife.  Parker says she’s adorable, pats her on the head, then sniffs her and somehow it’s not overly creepy.   And yes, Mom and I did discuss me writing this post so it’s not like I’m blabbing family secrets or anything.  We collaborated on this and decided you should be a part of our phone call.

I don’t know how Mom made it to me being 30 years old and not realizing that apocalyptic stories and prophecies scare me.  I shit my pants at severe thunderstorms and the apocalypse.  I’ve ALWAYS been this way.

It’s no surprise (to me, anyways) that I subscribe heavily to the Joss Whedon and Terry Goodkind school of thought when it comes to prophecy vs. free will.  I figure we’re all going to die anyways so I should CHOOSE to act in a humane and intelligent way because it helps me and those around me RIGHT NOW.  I don’t act right because of the fear of demons from hell shooting through volcano cracks to eat my brains.

My brain can’t comprehend or accept mass destruction so I live in a way I can wrap my thoughts around.  I also believe that so much emphasis is put on how the world ends that we’re busy bringing the very thing we fear to actuality.  If we hadn’t been working so hard trying to outwit it, it may not need to be outwitted.  And if it is true and inescapable then my part is to live my right here and now life decently.  If it all ends in chaos and despair, then the only reasonable thing to do is to live for joy right now.

Mom really leans towards the end of the world stuff and obviously the 2nd seal has broken and we’re all going to die in a blaze of glory or something here soon.  She also really likes to call and tell me about why and how this is coming about.  I want to know how prophets picked out accurate words when they described their vision because they don’t have a lot of room to write down details.  It’s like making life and death decisions based on a Twitter feed.  If a picture is worth 1,000 words and the prophet is so flooded with imagery that they clutch their heads and fall over, then it’s going to take a hell of a lot of paper and ink to write it out.

My eventual response, after fighting down the panic attack, is “Mom, the world’s been ending for a long damn time.”

I told her I’d write this thesis she’s assigned me when she reads The Sword of Truth novels.  If we both did our part, we’d come away knowing quite a bit about how the other one’s brain works.  At that point of the conversation, we just agreed to think about it and talk to God and see how it went.

We also talked about current events, the state of my brain and all the drama that makes up life.  IRL hasn’t been so steady lately and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking and agonizing about how this good ship Dollins Family should make enough money to stay afloat for another year.  The whole his job/my job/my health/health insurance/education requirements dilemma.  When a day to day routine exists, there is comfort and safety.  When there’s no routine, there’s anxiety and insecurity.  I’m not so secure or carefree at the moment so a lot of our conversation was tinged with my IRL worries.

This is where God gets funny.

I laid down in bed that night and thought really hard “God, I just need a single direction.  Just a feeling that one way or the other is right.  I feel like I need a compass.”

Then I couldn’t sleep and decided to start on the next book in my reading list.

The Psychology of Joss Whedon: An Unauthorized Exploration of Buffy, Angel, and Firefly

Huh, this entire book is about the characters in the Whedonverse who are contemplating this very issue.

First, I laughed at myself for finding theological truths in science fiction and fantasy novels (but then again – have you ever actually READ the Bible as a work of literature?  It’s as good a sci-fi primer as anything.)  Then I laughed some more because just this year I’ve found and become a total Firefly geek.  Before, I didn’t want anything to do with it – I’d never seen the TV show or the movie, I didn’t have any conversations about it.  I really just thought it was a weird Star Trek vs Battlestar Galactica ripoff.  I had no idea.  Now it’s strangely relevant to life.

I read more today and I learned that I’m more like Mal than Buffy.  I tend towards antisocial behavior but its only after I’ve used up the more mainstream ideas.  If things had gone in a more mainstream manner in my life, I’d be a more mainstream type of person.  I’m not only shaped by events, but I live with a more individualized moral code because of those events.  If mainstream included me and people like me, then I wouldn’t have to be something other than normal and a more generalized world view would be relevant.

(Does anyone else think that the creators of “there’s only one way to God” people are just the theologians with a really good marketing campaign?  I mean, it would be a shitty campaign to say “our product rocks but so does everyone else’s product.” I mean, what would you advertise?  The fact that your god was cross-platform and multi-app compatible?  That’s just a quick way to become irrelevant.  It’s all about branding, people!)

Why don’t I just adapt?  Lots of people who go through weird shit adapt.  Why don’t you?  I ask myself that a lot and the only answer I can come up with is “it’s my personality type.”

I’m not that abnormal in reality.  Most of the people I know and willingly socialize with are unconventional.  They live in unconventional manners and with unconventional world views inside of cultural boundaries.  I speak for myself (which is why there’s a heavy I emphasis in this blog – I don’t like speaking for other people) when I say that I have a well formed, rationalized, and stable morality.  I would make a good space cowboy.  I would not make a good elementary school teacher.  I accept these things about myself and move on.

I think my message was pretty clear: learn about and accept yourself, then move forward.  The only wrong thing to do is nothing.

Besides, if the world ends tomorrow, I won’t have to worry about any of this.


flaming out

20 11 2009

I’m giving up on NaNo.  It may be that I’m pissed off there are only 10 days to go and I haven’t written a single word on my supposed NaNovel in the past 5 days.

I’m on day 11 or 12 of this migraine (because time is now irrelevant) and that means I flamed out around 6 or 7 days into it.  Also, there is something very honest about pain.  It makes you sort out priorities.

I love to read.  Love it, love it, love it.  Actually, I should say I love to read books that I like. Many of my favorite authors are still writing books and every so often when I’m caught up on their works, I peruse different authors.  They write plenty.  I read around 300 books a year.  We’re not at a loss for words here, people.  When I run out of books to read, I read them again.  Many of my favorite books have been read so many times that I have to replace them due to pages falling out.

In all my collection of books, from the classics and antiques to the MMP that I bought last week at the grocery store – I have only read and enjoyed ONE self-published author.  No, make that 2, because M. J. Rose has become somewhat of a legend.  Do I believe I’m talented enough to write and publish a novel through a mainstream publisher?  Yes.  Do I believe I have the attention span it would take to do it?  No.  I don’t. Do I have any wish to live a life of research and discomfort it would take to write an accurate novel?  No.  I live a life of homemade computers and down comforters with a ton of kids and animals and I like it that way. If I had to interview a single member of law enforcement on procedure or how life really is out there, I would probably wet myself and pass out before I even said my name.  (Which is very odd because I’ve never done anything remotely illegal… I guess I’d be more comfortable with policemen if I had more reason to interact with them.)

Blogs are interesting creatures because they’re more like conversations than memoirs.  Really, you probably spend more time pooping than you do reading blogs.  If it weren’t for Google reader, I would spend less time on blogs and more on pooping than I do.  However, I get an average of 30 hits a day because this blog lists most of the Sweet Valley books in order. It is my service to humanity.  I can’t very well go scouting yard sales and Goodwills (and the Potter’s House, and the Main Street Thrift Store) to liberate books from leaky ceilings and black mold when I’m spending all my time in front of the computer screen or laying flat on my back in the bed clutching a tube of chapstick and my cell phone with a pillow over my face.

So, sorry NaNo, I love you guys and all you NaNo Authors out there, but I’m flaming out.  Write me something worth reading, would you?

Secondary to my thoughts on personally flaming out are my thoughts on people who SHOULD flame out as a service to humanity.

There is a reason the English language includes the word cunt.  It’s because that’s the most accurate description of some people.

I’ve informed my kids that if they get suspended from school for punching a bully in the nose, then we’ll have a week of ice cream and Chuck E. Cheese.  People who think it’s fun or think it makes them look good to tease and taunt other people deserve a bloody nose.  (The other side of this is I also informed my kids that if they came home with a bloody nose because they were bullying someone, that they deserved it and they deserved every punishment the school could give them, and still come home and do chores until bedtime.  They may not fear other kids enough to not tease people but they respect me well enough to know when to STFU.  I’m very creative.)

I fully expect a call from a teacher when one of them quotes me (because the only thing kids remember verbatim are things you wouldn’t say in front of your pastor) and says “but Mommy told me to punch the little cunt in the nose, then they’d shut the hell up and probably would reconsider the effectiveness of that idea in the future.”

Then I’d get the calls from the angry parents who are all mad because my kid called their kid a cunt and I’d invite them over for a cunt waffle with some cunt syrup just so they wouldn’t call me anymore.  If they laughed, we’d probably end up being best friends and sending random poop mail to each other.  If they got upset, I’d have a thought that would impact my karma and go on with my life.

If they kept calling, I’d tell them that my kid had some new form of ghonnasyphillherpiles that was uber-contagious to children squeezed from cunts and that our children should probably never interact again.

And now I’m going to stop writing while you practice saying ghonnasyphillherpiles out loud.  It’s said gon-NA-sif-i-herp-i-leeeeees.  Now you try.

appearance of intelligence

23 10 2009

Me:  Sometimes I wonder about our kids’ intelligence.  It’s like they’re super smart most of the time but sometimes they just do the most retarded things!

Shaun: I know what you mean.  I bet our parents said the same thing about us when we were little.

Me:  They probably still do.