Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I got rid of cable at the beginning of the year.
The kids protested, but got the Because I Said So response.
It didn't take long for us to adjust.
I love not having television. The only show I regularly watched was LOST.
I could get it on Hulu and it was the last season anyway.
During the presidential election I, like many, got junked out on CNN.
I needed my daily Obama fix.
I think that's when I found The Daily Show.
I love Jon Stewart. Especially when he's trying to keep a straight face.
Election night, I was on the phone with Sister Adrienne, and it was Jon Stewart who told me Obama had won. We got all teary and goosebumpy together.
Sometimes I think I miss CNN. Until I'm in the pizza place waiting for my order and get a 5 minute dose. Where's the serious unbiased reporting? They always sound over dramatic and adolescent to me. CNN sucks. That's all I have to say.
I'm completely unplugged now.
I had no idea about the miners.
I didn't know about the dumbasses opposing the building of a mosque near Ground Zero.
I heard about the kid who jumped off the George Washington Bridge at work.
I hate the New York Times.
And I definitely don't want to know why everyone's so aggravated with Obama.
That would just make me sad.
I mostly get my current events from Blogland.
If something really fucked up is going on, Ms. Moon, or Elizabeth, or Sarcastic Bastard are sure to give a head's up and then I hit Google.
Pathetic. But it keeps me sane and happy. I'm tired of being overwhelmed by the weight of all the fucked up shit we humans are doing. We suck. So I don't watch T.V.
But I saw a widget of my Jon on the sidebar over at Rage Against the Minivan.
It's kind of ironic cause I think Haiti is what finally put me over the edge and slammed my head into the sand.
The best part of it all is that I can visit my secret boyfriend online every night!
We don't need no stinkin tv here. Comedy Central on the Internet.
Jon Stewart at my beck and call whenever my heart desires.
Restore my sanity, Jon. We beseech thee, hear us.
Friday, October 15, 2010
I remember my mom taking us to see Godspell when I was 10.
This was way before her Church Lady Era.
She probably heard or read some NYTimes review about how awesome the movie was.
1973. The hippie years.
I loved that movie. I remember being broken hearted at the end.
We went to Church. I knew the stories. Somehow my 10 year old self found the movie sexy.
Jesus was sexy. The disciples were sexy. I wanted to be one of them.
And the music? OMG.
My prepubescent self was impressionable and on the cusp of having the ability to be swept away.
That's what Godspell did. It swept me away. It broke my prepubescent heart.
We got the album. I was 10. Sister Halona was 4. The other 3 were in between. We listened to the album all the time. We would sing and prance through the living room and carry Sister Halona through the house just like they carried Jesus after they took him down from the chain-linked fence.
37 years later, I'm sure we still know all the words. I know I do.
A local theater group is performing Godspell next month. I noticed the marquis this morning on my way to work. I should take the kids. They've seen the movie. They love the music. It made an impression on them even though it's dated and they have no idea who Jesus is because I'm now a heathen and they don't go to church.
They don't know the stories.
They're not even baptized.
It was such a big part of our lives growing up. Church. Godspell.
I plugged in my iPod on the way home tonight and listened to the Godspell soundtrack.
Yes. I have Godspell on my iPod. I told you I'm a loser.
One of my favorite songs is Bless the Lord.
I think the last time I listened to it our Daddy was unconscious in the hospital and we were holding a vigil waiting for him to die.
9 days. He held on 9 days after having a massive stroke. No food. No fluids.
He never regained consciousness.
I remember listening to Godspell on the way back from one of many hospital visits during those 9 days. It was an insanely insane time in my life.
My Daddy was dying. My husband was on the verge.
I was trying to keep my kids safe and in one piece.
I thought I might loose my house. I thought I might loose my mind.
he will not always chide
he will with patience wait
his wrath is ever slow to rise
and ready to abate
he pardons all thy sins
prolongs thy feeble breath
he heal-eth thine infirmities
and ransoms thee from death
he clothes thee with his love
upholds thee with his truth
and like the eagle he renews
the vigor of thy youth
I remember singing the words and crying through the music. My Daddy was dying.
The Christian God makes no sense to me at all. I take what I like and leave the rest.
I substitute Love or some other non-gendered amorphous inclusive force for the He(s), and then I can accept the message.
Who the fuck knows. Not me, that's for sure.
But I do know there is something. And it's mighty strong. It makes miracles. It heals.
It kicks fukin butt.
Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.