My wife called minutes ago. It seems that sad news has struck one of my former high school teachers and his family. A few months ago, Greg, who teaches economics and government, and his wife, lost their beautiful home to fire. Now, it seems, they have learned that their 25-year-old son, so full of promise, has been killed in a car crash. Take a moment to pray for Greg and Linda. They are good folk.
It all breaks the heart.
LIVING A WHOLE LIFE NONETHELESS
Last night, my son and I watched (on TLC) the utterly shocking yet amazingly inspiring story of Rosemarie Siggins, a wife and mother, who has lived her entire life with only half a body. There is no end of heroism in this tale. Her husband is something of a walking marvel; she, quite literally, is a saint on a skateboard. Tragedy may abound, but so does the miraculous. Her affirmation of life under the most arduous of circumstances is gently persuasive. I pray for a heart like hers.
CONFESSIONS OF A MAD MAN
On Saturday night, my wife and I enjoyed a capital meal at one of the area's finest restaurants. During dinner I revealed a rather ugly side to my soul, for I admitted that I had hatred in my heart for a particular set of people. And when I say hatred, I mean a visceral, hand-trembling, foaming-at-the-mouth sort of loathing; a hatred that seethes. I cannot explain how this hatred came about; I confess that my own heart has blindsided me.
What set of people is it that I hate? It is that set of people who believe that the grotesque attacks of 9/11 were not perpetrated against the western world by radical Muslims. Rather, the 9/11 attacks were conducted by the Bush administration in concert with Jewish agents; or any similar agents other than the Muslim radicals who seek to destroy America. During dinner I said that I do not deny these conspiracy-theorists their patriotism. I deny their humanity. And I know that I should not think this way; I admit my feelings are all screwed up. But I cannot for the life of me find anything more vile than this sort of willful blindness; to think there are people who believe that what thousands witnessed, namely planes flying into buildings, was naught but an incredibly orchestrated illusion (perhaps illusionist David Blaine is Osama bin Laden), is too much for my small brain to entertain. I am doomed.
ON A RELATED NOTE
Forgive me, please, for my acid tongue of late. I feel on the very fringes of control. Anger, indeed, is getting the best of me. I know that I used some profanity here a couple of weeks ago; I know I tried to justify it by arguing that even God must expect us to damn damnable things. But there seems to be an underlying anxiety, even dread, that has me so thin-skinned. Perhaps it is because I feel I have lost my Christian faith: I am a practicing agnostic who holds tenuously to a theoretical orthodoxy. I no longer attend any church. I no longer pray with earnest discipline. I can't find my way toward what once came more easily than fresh air. I walk through this strange valley and wonder not only from whence comes my help, but when. I stare in the mirror without any sense of recognition. I have grown into that man I never wanted to become.
Please, forgive me for my doubts.
WHISPERING
I don't know if you've seen this TV program or not, but it might be the greatest TV show of all time. Of course, I am talking of "Dog Whisperer." Nothing comes more wonderfully close to a perfect self-help show than this. For here is a man, brilliantly simple and simply brilliant in so many ways, who proclaims some of the most direct and bold psychological statements imaginable, and yet is thoroughly innocuous due to his topic: he is talking about dogs. But he is really talking about people; and what he shows me about myself everytime I watch is amazing. For the Dog Whisperer, Cesar Millan, often has me shaking my head and muttering, "Dear Lord, my wife is right!" Right indeed.
Peace to you all.
©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.
It all breaks the heart.
LIVING A WHOLE LIFE NONETHELESS
Last night, my son and I watched (on TLC) the utterly shocking yet amazingly inspiring story of Rosemarie Siggins, a wife and mother, who has lived her entire life with only half a body. There is no end of heroism in this tale. Her husband is something of a walking marvel; she, quite literally, is a saint on a skateboard. Tragedy may abound, but so does the miraculous. Her affirmation of life under the most arduous of circumstances is gently persuasive. I pray for a heart like hers.
CONFESSIONS OF A MAD MAN
On Saturday night, my wife and I enjoyed a capital meal at one of the area's finest restaurants. During dinner I revealed a rather ugly side to my soul, for I admitted that I had hatred in my heart for a particular set of people. And when I say hatred, I mean a visceral, hand-trembling, foaming-at-the-mouth sort of loathing; a hatred that seethes. I cannot explain how this hatred came about; I confess that my own heart has blindsided me.
What set of people is it that I hate? It is that set of people who believe that the grotesque attacks of 9/11 were not perpetrated against the western world by radical Muslims. Rather, the 9/11 attacks were conducted by the Bush administration in concert with Jewish agents; or any similar agents other than the Muslim radicals who seek to destroy America. During dinner I said that I do not deny these conspiracy-theorists their patriotism. I deny their humanity. And I know that I should not think this way; I admit my feelings are all screwed up. But I cannot for the life of me find anything more vile than this sort of willful blindness; to think there are people who believe that what thousands witnessed, namely planes flying into buildings, was naught but an incredibly orchestrated illusion (perhaps illusionist David Blaine is Osama bin Laden), is too much for my small brain to entertain. I am doomed.
ON A RELATED NOTE
Forgive me, please, for my acid tongue of late. I feel on the very fringes of control. Anger, indeed, is getting the best of me. I know that I used some profanity here a couple of weeks ago; I know I tried to justify it by arguing that even God must expect us to damn damnable things. But there seems to be an underlying anxiety, even dread, that has me so thin-skinned. Perhaps it is because I feel I have lost my Christian faith: I am a practicing agnostic who holds tenuously to a theoretical orthodoxy. I no longer attend any church. I no longer pray with earnest discipline. I can't find my way toward what once came more easily than fresh air. I walk through this strange valley and wonder not only from whence comes my help, but when. I stare in the mirror without any sense of recognition. I have grown into that man I never wanted to become.
Please, forgive me for my doubts.
WHISPERING
I don't know if you've seen this TV program or not, but it might be the greatest TV show of all time. Of course, I am talking of "Dog Whisperer." Nothing comes more wonderfully close to a perfect self-help show than this. For here is a man, brilliantly simple and simply brilliant in so many ways, who proclaims some of the most direct and bold psychological statements imaginable, and yet is thoroughly innocuous due to his topic: he is talking about dogs. But he is really talking about people; and what he shows me about myself everytime I watch is amazing. For the Dog Whisperer, Cesar Millan, often has me shaking my head and muttering, "Dear Lord, my wife is right!" Right indeed.
Peace to you all.
©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.
3 comments:
Thank you, R. Sherman. I appreciate your candor here. I should re-read Job, too. How long has it been since I let myself go there? Too long, for sure.
Peace to you. And thanks to those of you who contacted me via email.
There is a war at hand, and it is not the one reported in the newspapers.
BG
Having discovered this amazing blog a week ago and reading it a little every day to "catch up", I am intimidated as an eduacted 29 year old male who reads and writes for a living at the magnitude of the writing skill a fellow granite guy like Bill can possess.
Every blog I read is a gem and enlightens me in some way or form.
As a man who went to private parochial schooling from grades 1-12 then went on to UNH for my 2 and 4 year degree, and having grown up in a Roman Catholic family, I have in my adult life become a Pagan. I pray to the Gods/Goddesses of the earth, wind, air, good fortune etc etc. I am more spiritual than most my age, but do not tag along with any certain current religion. Instead I think the ancients had it right all along in how they praised the Gods/Goddesses.
While I would love to delve into this much deeper, I wanted to semi-introduce myself, say "hi", exlpain alittle about my self and say to Bill, "Thanks for blogging, your insight is truly unique."
Xavier, Xavier.
Welcome! I am glad that you have stumbled upon this site and introduced yourself. You are always welcome here. Besides, you will be the first (neo?) pagan I can call 'friend.'
I hope you'll continue to let us know more about yourself. It is always fun -- and interesting -- to mix things up a bit. Heaven knows, I've sure been mired in mud lately. Anything that will jar me loose can only be a deemed a gift.
And thank you for the kind words. I am touched and honored. Such encouragement gives me hope that I am not a swine trampling on pearls.
Peace to you, always.
Gnade
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