| planning and the works |
[15 Aug 2006|01:04am] |
I need to realize where my heart is in this entire mess. I feel like everything that could have happened for the best just somehow slipped right past my fingers and everytime I started running I hit a wall. and everytime I walked through a door it hit me on the way out.
by all means, I don't want to use TASC to proselytize. i respect the organization, all the individuals that compose it. i acknowledge their efforts and their time they pour into their events-- its what makes TASC what it is.
The Asian American community and Christ-- The New York Times and other newspapers have addressed the "Christian Tigers" phenomenon, but I'm ambivalent, even apathetic, as to its cause. I don't feel I can accept a growing Asian American Christian community as an effect of something innate. It almost gives invalidation of our struggle as Christians, dulling the pain of living a life that isn't easy and with it simplifying not only our ethnicity, our culture, but our relationship with Christ. What's for sure is that not all Asians are Christians and actually, a frightening majority are not. Doors are still closed and they're not flying open on their own-- and the effort is not only getting the foot in the door a message that sticks.
I'm not being coherent. I want this to happen. But the question is what does He want?
Its coming this friday.
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| 2 months of temperance |
[31 Jul 2006|11:01am] |
( an unspoken truth )
Week recap: The Hawkes was in town and came to visit. We purused the quaint streets of Georgetown and unwittingly spent a fortune on bread-- I don't think we went 2 hours without eating something else. Snuck pita into theaters and saw Pirates with Mamiko-- pita trumped the movie, no question. Talked to the Kervick for the first time in a long time. Made chicken won-tons from scratch-- chicken breast, napa cabbage, garlic and water chestnuts. Stephen and Will from OIL sg came to visit and I was thoroughly schooled in won-ton wrapping and was blatantly re-gifted the movie, Snatch.
8 weeks plus in DC have taken me for a spin. I'm tired, bug-bitten, sporting calves of steel, and a high-response sweat mechanism but I'm glad for it. I'm stronger in spite of my weaknesses and I'm ready to hit whatever's next on the list. Spin that thang, Mr. DJ. You got my soul and you don't plan to let go. :)
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| the new breed of hipsters |
[21 Jul 2006|11:44am] |
This ABC's got a question for ya. What is this line between taking advantage of our extensive free access to information and the jaded apathy that comes with our glances at the headlines, mindless clicking online and tv-dinner stare at night?
None, if you're a hipster.
The term "hipsters" first started off as a categorization of jazz lovers in smooth age of the 1940's. Harry Gibson, a jazz pianist, wrangled a couple vowels and it was born, wet and gleaming to the world. Not to be confused with hippies, hipsters have a long history of making sweet love to the subculture, the indie culture, and any sort of expression outside the mainstream. To generalize stereotypes, if a DC professional met a hipster, they would exchange awkward pleasantries and have almost absolutely nothing to talk about. If they were of the antagonistic sort, one would leave a long deep gash on the other's Honda Accord or "sweet ridin'" Vespa.
Knowledge is the trump card in DC. I admit, such jobs will necessitate constant updates, ranging from international current events, domestic news, culture quips and the occasional scathing but enlightening British analysis (See the Economist NOT Simon Cowell). I don't decry the privilege of being informed or the "mind-numbing" state of the media or even that well-used and abused revolutionist/humanist cry aganist apathy-- I don't even decry the commuter hole that is the District of Colombia. I decry the wholly ironic and contradictory semi-professional, white-collar hipster.
Indeed, they exist.
These out of state interns that pay money to shuffle papers identify the buzzing and uniquely opinionated culture of DC to be some mysterious subculture for success. They set out on their brief journey with a new wardrobe, a growing coffee addiction, and the greatest abuse of public media I've ever seen: as sets and props to a ridiculous farce of professionalism.
Because its chic to be informed, particularly in the DC area, I address the awkward youths on their commute to work, back home, their lunch or coffee breaks: While you eat your glazed scone, sip your "fair trade" organic coffee, feel free to adopt a stance-- be it emotional, political, amiable, inimical-- read the tragedies in the Middle East, marching troops on Somalia, and alarming changes in legislation before flipping over to the complimentary sudoku puzzle.
Let's stop the perversion of professional DC careers and their tools of trade as indie. The nation may be referred to as the "Great Uninformed Public" (and very well may be so), but that does not land carrying a newspaper as your key to "subculturism". The assumption that it is means you are so, like, not with the culture, hepcat.
This city is driving me crazy.
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| on the more serious post-it note |
[26 Mar 2006|01:43am] |
The religious right, known for its frequent political tantrums, has thrown another hissy fit at the feet of our national leaders.
Except this one is a strong left hook that'll leave any Christian reeling.
In Afghanistan, 41 year old Abdul Rahman has committed a religious crime that includes no terror and no hate. He has no unpatriotic sentiments or ill motives. He has not shed the blood of others or his own-- instead he lives by blood of Christ.
16 years ago, an international aid group took steps to help Afghan refugees in Pakistan. And as Abdul took steps with them to help the brothers and sisters of his nation, he also began to follow a life more soul-satisfying and more world-shaking than his former. Apostasy, or the recanting of a personal religion, is condemnable to death under Islamic law. But let's wind down the melodrama and throw a little salt in the mix.
Indeed apostasy is a serious and highly debated topic in Islam, as in many religions. Let's face it. The public relinquishment of faith is no chicken soup for the soul. But the penalty of death, by many scholars, is considered to be a too-literal interpretation of the Qur'an; religious freedom is a two-way street so you can come and go as you please. Western media swallowed Rahman like a teat of injustice. I mean, come on-- with popular and widely read networks on this issue like flies, this will hit every corner of the international Christian community. Even Rupert Murdoch could piece together something fiery, substantial, and moving. I think. But though Afghan President Karzai isn't gonna drop Rahman like a hot potato just because Bush said his pretty pleases and the ever faithful, not-oh-so-subtle threat, killing Rahman won't exactly push his jollies. Like all issues concerning religion, there will be political repercussions either way.
But the point is this: This man, through the sheer magnitude of the steps he has taken, embodies a counter-culture gesture of INTENSE faith and passion. He looked across the chasm and into the maw of his society, a society of familiarity and connected ways, that says (in secondary interpretations of the holy text) "kill whoever changes his religion" and he still jumps! What a stud.
Another stud once said:
"It is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Philippians 1:20-21
Word. And that is true PASSION. How INTENSE is that feeling that's running through your hands, toes, feet, lips, eyes at all moments of the day? Living and all that we imagined it to be when we were little boils down to one word: CHRIST. And the thing we fear at night, that stuff that pours out of our adrenal medulla that tells us to RUN YA FOOL or be KILLED, what we turn away from when we suddenly see our parents older than we remembered, the regrets of the past or of what will never be done if you pushed up daisies now? What about all of that?
If we've lived our lives passionately with Christ at its sweet, chewy center-- then death is nothing but sinking your teeth into it.
So send out a prayer for Abdul Rahman, for political forbearance of the situation both internationally and within the nation of Afghanistan, and that our own passion may fully celebrate our Christ center.
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| jazzy peanut butter on wheat please |
[24 Mar 2006|11:57pm] |
so this was spring break?
all i have in hand is the fine tuned dexterity of making a week's worth of peanut butter jelly and banana sandwiches while twirling in argyle socks around the marble floors dancing to michael buble's triple quando musings. and i make them good enough to make you stop, drop, and roll like your soul was on fire.
on a political note: there is injustice at the local health club.
mother has a stack of petitions calling for more step and aerobic classes that would suit the likes of the veteran steppers. they are friendly petitions, yelling angry words in wide smiling comic sans font and light purple paper. but the message is clear: the fiery women with bone marrow loss and hot flashes will not stand for ageism.
the young may be satisfied with yoga but the menopausal want the workout. holla?
and soynut butter. this is rockin stuff.
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