Spike's Bitches 33: Weeping, crawling, blaming everybody else
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Cindy, I was just reading this in Oxford American and thought of you.
Most tonic for me as I’ve struggled with my own logocentrism has been the African–American church in North Nash-ville where my wife and I, who are white, have worshipped for about twenty years now. We first visited the congregation—which is part of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), the left-of-center Protestant denomination to which we belong—because we had heard that the music and the people there were great, and it was true, but not some of the doctrine. It wasn’t that the preaching and liturgy weren’t in keeping with “Disciples theology” so much as that they retained vestiges of outmoded downhome religion. Foremost among these were the personification of evil in the character of Satan; prayers addressed to Jesus as if he were still alive; and the ubiquitous references to Jesus’ blood and all the wonderful things it had done and continued to do on our behalf. We didn’t take any of it literally, or presume that every one of the church’s members did. Still, some of this imagery posed a stumbling block for us, especially the buckets of references to blood.
Over the years, we nevertheless grew more comfortable with this language, or in any case stopped getting hung up on the meanings that could be wrested from it. It wasn’t that our theology had narrowed—if anything, it had grown more expansive, more post-Christian than anything else. What did sink in, however, was the buzz and heat in our hands as we clapped them numb each week, the anguish and joy in people’s gleaming faces, the waves upon waves of kisses and hugs that we gave and received, to say nothing of the unshakable conviction that rose from our voices as we shouted and sang together. What hit home for us wasn’t the meaning behind these experiences but the truth in them, the glorious and inexhaustible reality of it all: rough, smooth, tangy, sweet, piercing, hushed, aggrieved, rapturous, and thousands of other things besides. These things, no matter how we conceived them, were the redemption in all that talk about “the blood.” The sheer humanity of it—the brokenness, the acceptance, the grace and love that mere words could never express—was the transforming blood of which we sang: the blood, very much present among and stirring within us, that would never lose its power.
Happy Birthday Daisy Jane!
Morning, all.
Weird dreams. I dreamt I went out last night in a really slutty outfit, and stayed out to 6 a.m., only to discover that what I thought was Saturday night was Sunday, and I had to be at school. So I went to work drunk and slutty and there was this huge gang war, and I stole a truck that ended up being this gang leader's truck and now he wants to kill me, and I was more worried about being the drunk and slutty teacher than imminent painful death.
ION, bad Thanksgiving. We were woken at 7:30 Thanksgiving morning by my mom's best friend's husband at the door, to tell my mom that C. had died of a heart attack at 4 a.m. Completely unexpected -- she was 53.
My mom was a wreck, but held up better than I expected. She was able to go up and speak at the memorial yesterday, which was a huge thing for her.
What is The Oxford American?
My church could use some of the passion evident in the second paragraph. I love it, but I don't know how to do it, you know?
From the first paragraph, I think my theology is probably so different from his. I am very much a, "Yes, there was a virgin birth, bodily resurrection, ascension," sort of Christian. And although I believe arguing about inerrancy is a spectacularly divisive waste of time, I believe the writers of scripture were inspired of the Holy Spirit. And I believe in the power of the blood.
'Cause it's always got to be blood.
Weird dreams. I dreamt I went out last night in a really slutty outfit, and stayed out to 6 a.m., only to discover that what I thought was Saturday night was Sunday, and I had to be at school. So I went to work drunk and slutty and there was this huge gang war, and I stole a truck that ended up being this gang leader's truck and now he wants to kill me, and I was more worried about being the drunk and slutty teacher than imminent painful death.
Oh my word, Erin.
ION, bad Thanksgiving. We were woken at 7:30 Thanksgiving morning by my mom's best friend's husband at the door, to tell my mom that C. had died of a heart attack at 4 a.m. Completely unexpected -- she was 53.
I'm so, so sorry. That is too young. Her poor family. Your poor mom.
My mom was a wreck, but held up better than I expected. She was able to go up and speak at the memorial yesterday, which was a huge thing for her.
Sometimes, that really helps. There have been deaths (like my dad's) where I've been unable to do that. There have been others (like my Nana's) where I've had to, and when I have, I've been so glad I did.
'Cause it's always got to be blood.
Why do you think we eat it?
Happy Birthday, Daisy Jane!
Happy belated Birthday, Miss Julia!
ION, I upgraded to IE 7, and I do not like it, mostly because it is different, which is kind of sad. But it is different. Very. Even the font here looks different.
Oh, me, too! It took me a while to figure out the set up and I am truly annoyed with it. I need to go back to Firefox but I haven't downloaded it to the new laptop yet.
We hosted my brother, her fiance and his 4 year old son for the weekend. A friend of mine here brought her 4 year old over for dinner and hanging out on Friday. We then met at the park on Saturday morning and they came over again for pizza and beer and Notre Dame football that night.
It was a very good weekend. And I have leftover pumpkin cheesecake. But not for long.
I ♥ Teppy.
What is The Oxford American?
Found my own answer, and the article:
[link]
It's a good read. It's amusing/intriguing to me that Friskics-Warren incorporates his religious experience and post-modern understanding of it in an article about logocentrism, because the Greek concept of Logos is very much married to Christ, in the New Testament. The first chapter of
The Gospel of John
refers to Christ as
Logos,
repeatedly. You won't see it there, because it's an English translation, but that's very much what the evangelist is talking about, when you read, in English, the verses such as 'In the beginning there was the Word," etc.
Oh, me, too! It took me a while to figure out the set up and I am truly annoyed with it. I need to go back to Firefox but I haven't downloaded it to the new laptop yet.
It's so different, isn't it? Change is bad. I kind of like the tabs feature, but it's been so long since I used a version of MS Windows (probably 3.11; Windows for Workgroups, and I didn't have internet access, then) that allowed tabs, that I forget about it, and just open up other browsers, instead, anyhow.
I have never had pumpkin cheesecake. That's wrong.
It's Daisy Jane's birthday?
Happy birthday, DJ!
She had a very good day, which is what Julias do best.
I adore this phrase.
We were woken at 7:30 Thanksgiving morning by my mom's best friend's husband at the door, to tell my mom that C. had died of a heart attack at 4 a.m. Completely unexpected -- she was 53.
I am so sorry. I am glad your mom was able to speak. That will be a comfort to many, I think.
My mom left early this morning. I was telling her last night that I will miss her. She reminded me that I am seeing her in a couple of weeks again... So I told her to drive safely instead.
Now I am cleaning up and washing her sheets and frankly happy at the idea of catching up on some tv and just hoping that she doesn't hit weather or traffic issues today.
And waiting for the guy who "bought" my desk (I asked for $10. Seriously. I just wanted it to have a happy new home, basically. He's coming back today for the desk chair that wouldn't fit in his car last night and to look at my desk so I can explain how to assemble his desk (which was a part of mine).
There is also coffee. I am a content and not bouncy Cass today. Just quietly getting things done.
