My Lonely City

One out of Four Homeless are Veterans. One in four.

“The only training I have is infantry training and there’s not really a need for that in the civilian world.” – Jason Kelley.

We have a problem, folks. It’s not a new problem, but it’s definitely a problem. And I don’t think the answer is “a program that helps bridge the gap between income and rent.”

Happy Guy Fawkes Day!

And for your disquieting song of the day, the un-condensed version of the rhyme opening V for Vendetta, taken from Wikipedia:

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent
To blow up King and Parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England’s overthrow;
By God’s providence he was catch’d
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we’ll say ol’ Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!

The men in the text are all leaders – revolutionary, established, and religious – and are played off against one another. As the rhyme suggests God’s “providence” extends only to the King, it serves to entrench even more firmly in the popular imagination the legitimacy of the federal authority and the futility of either rebellion or dissent. I have more to say regarding the second verse, but I really ought to get to work. I’ll return later – I hope.

“Successful change requires a combination of technocratic knowledge, bold political leadership, and broad social participation.” – Jeffrey Sachs, in The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time.

Quote of the day:

“It may sound like something rather technical and anoraky but is fundamentally about what kind of relationship people have with each other, in terms of the rights and responsibilities they have towards each other.”

Um, what? No, really, what? Anoraky?

Interesting article, though; I’m back on a follow-the-news kick, at least for tonight.

I’m not sure, though, that giving sixteen-year-olds the right to vote is that great of an idea, at least if British sixteen-year-olds are anything like American ones.

On to America, here’s another interesting – and more follow-able – quote:

“On Capitol Hill, it is a sign of just how important religion is to US politics that only one member of Congress has ever admitted to being an atheist - and that admission came just a few months ago.”

I had no idea. About the only one person “admitt[ing]” to being an atheist – like admitting to being an alcoholic or something*. Are we afraid that the devil will possess non-religious legislators (or justices, or what-have-you) and suddenly start eating our children, or what?

Speaking of vampires, Dennis Kucinich has a MySpace page. Who knew? And it’s readable – super-primary-colors-y, but readable. I’ve gotta give him points for that, though perhaps not enough to counteract the deficit created by having a MySpace page in the first place.

(I’m such a snob. But I’m okay with that.)

*Being an atheist is not a disease; I’m being ironic, you know?

Wait, wait, wait … isn’t the president’s job to enforce the laws that Congress makes (and nix crap laws that Congress passes)? I mean, it’s been a while since my gov’t classes, but … isn’t that a big part of the job description?

Why, then, do presidential candidates talk about policies they plan to create, “legislation” they want to “pass”, etc.? Shouldn’t they be talking about their ideas and qualifications for appointing great people to governmental offices, “ensuring that the laws are faithfully executed” (article II, sec. 3)?

(And, for the record, we ought to amend this article to say “she or he”. But you knew I was going to say that.)

I mean, here’s what the constitution says about the president, except for the part about the electoral college because it was boring:

Article II Section 1. The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his office during the term of four years, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same term, be elected, as follows:
[[boring and complicated way of saying that the President will be elected by hairsprayed newscasters who repeat themselves. “It looks like he’s won Texas, Jim!” “Yes, Frank, it certainly looks like Candidate Gary has won Texas, Frank.”)]]

No person except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of the United States, at the time of the adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the office of President; neither shall any person be eligible to that office who shall not have attained to the age of thirty five years, and been fourteen Years a resident within the United States. [If you’re not old enough to remember disco, or you weren’t born here or to Americans, don’t apply.]

In case of the removal of the President from office, or of his death, resignation, or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice President, and the Congress may by law provide for the case of removal, death, resignation or inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what officer shall then act as President, and such officer shall act accordingly, until the disability be removed, or a President shall be elected. [The VP takes over if the Prez can’t get her/his stuff together for some silly reason like being dead or incapacitated. Unless you count being an incompetent jerk as a disability, which we apparently don’t. This was later amended to detail the complicated and action-film-producing tangle of succession we know and love.]

The President shall, at stated times, receive for his services, a compensation, which shall neither be increased nor diminished during the period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive within that period any other emolument from the United States, or any of them. [But she/he gets money. But not too much. Along with out-of-place comas.]

Before he enter on the execution of his office, he shall take the following oath or affirmation:–“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” [And she/he promises to do the job.]

Section 2. The President shall be commander in chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the militia of the several states, when called into the actual service of the United States; he may require the opinion, in writing, of the principal officer in each of the executive departments, upon any subject relating to the duties of their respective offices, and he shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offenses against the United States, except in cases of impeachment. [She/he is in charge of the people with guns – hey! states are supposed to have militias! wow! – but should get his information from the people who know what they’re talking about. And he can pardon people, except for people who have been impeached. (I think.) Notice that her/his “action step” regarding the military is asking for the opinions of people who know what they’re doing.]

He shall have power, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, to make treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls, judges of the Supreme Court, and all other officers of the United States, whose appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by law: but the Congress may by law vest the appointment of such inferior officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments. [Prez makes treaties and puts people in office. Working with the Senate to do so. Did you get that, “with”? Like together or something?]

The President shall have power to fill up all vacancies that may happen during the recess of the Senate, by granting commissions which shall expire at the end of their next session. [And put more people in office if somebody else gets dead or incapacitated.]

Section 3. He shall from time to time give to the Congress information of the state of the union, and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordinary occasions, convene both Houses, or either of them, and in case of disagreement between them, with respect to the time of adjournment, he may adjourn them to such time as he shall think proper; he shall receive ambassadors and other public ministers; he shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed, and shall commission all the officers of the United States. [Ooh, “recommend to [Congress’s] consideration” – that sounds weird, eh? Like they were communicating or something. And yep, it says so right there: she/he’ll see to getting the laws obeyed.]

Section 4. The President, Vice President and all civil officers of the United States, shall be removed from office on impeachment for, and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors. [And if they screw up, they’ll get kicked out.]

Sounds kinda administrative-y, actually. Take the Congress’s ideas and make them happen; occasionally direct their attention to issues they haven’t addressed. And be a people person, making lots of appointments and receiving foreign ambassadors and what-not. And oversee the various military bodies of the country. Hm. Learn something every day.

So my Best Friend (at least since 8th grade, which seems like forever ago, so the term actually almost applies, scary as that is) has had a spot of trouble with snoopy out-laws lately. No need to go into the details (nor would I be at liberty to do so even if there was a need), but I got to thinking. I might as well be considerate and save any similar nosies some trouble, if they take a notion to snoop in my direction.

I drink, but I don’t smoke. I curse like a sailor, depending on the company. I don’t do any drugs that have not been specifically prescribed to me by a doctor, and I never have. Except for occasional speeding and an illegal u-turn or two, I have never broken the law. Unless you count jaywalking. I didn’t drink alcohol until I was twenty-one, even when I was in countries (Mexico and New Zealand) whose drinking-age laws would have permitted me to do so. The worst thing I have ever done was made out with a boy who was engaged – engaged! to someone else! what was I thinking?! – on the way back from my senior trip.

I didn’t have sex until after I got married. (Yes, really.) I have never cheated on my husband. I love him very much, and love sharing my life with him. Most of the time it’s easy to love him; sometimes I love him because I promised him I would. Marriage is harder than I thought it would be, but it’s also more rewarding.

I sometimes hate spending time with my family – immediate-ish and extended – because I feel we have very little in common. I spend time with them anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.

I love God but Christians piss me off. I’m a vegan, feminist social critic with dozens of radical, half-formed ideas and almost no-one to bounce them off of. I complain a lot about being lonely and having no-one to talk to, but I don’t seek out any new relationships because I’m a lazy fraidy-cat a lot of the time.

I volunteer. I tithe. I pray. I read the Bible semi-regularly, though not as often as I ought to. I try to understand how God wants me to apply what I read to the way I behave. What I keep coming back to is this: Treat others the way you want to be treated.

I tip. I sing loudly in the car by myself. I sometimes preach sermons to people who are not, physically, present with me. I pick up paper towels that bastards in public restrooms throw on the floor. (Sometimes.) I wear underwear when trying on swimming suits.

I have a concealed-carry permit (somewhere). I enjoy shooting bottles and targets, and I’m pretty good at it. I doubt I could shoot a person, though, because I don’t want to be shot. Even in self-defense.

Sometimes I carry insects and spiders outside when they get in; sometimes I kill them. I don’t feel guilty. My cats are both declawed – though I wouldn’t make that decision again.

I lost my first child this year – a missed miscarriage six weeks after conception, discovered around four weeks later. It tore my world apart. I’m getting used to the pieces floating around, and I’m not trying to fit them together yet.

I think too much. But I’m okay with it.

Satisfied?

I’m going to be a counselor at a summer camp for children in my county who have been abused or neglected.

Oh my gosh.

Oh my gosh! I’m so excited and nervous and scared and elated … and surely other things, too. :o) My mother-in-law was the music director last year, when a body from her then-church held the camp under the organization and leadership of a national – indeed, international – organization. She returned full of stories and emotions; I was fascinated and moved. From what I heard her say, and what I heard from the leadership in their informational meeting, the people and the organization are doing a great thing, and doing it well. What impresses me most at this time is their careful rejection of the idea of “saving” or rescuing the children, and the deliberately narrow focus of creating good memories for the kids who attend.

I think what resonates with me about this strategy is that it is a positive, rather than negative, approach to the problem of child abuse. I mean, I think it’s easier to focus on, and perhaps drown in, the overwhelming statistics, the grief and fury, the images and stories of people who rape, beat, torture, and neglect the children in their care – easier than it is to do what I can with what I have.

I can’t reach everyone who is suffering, child or adult. Even if I could, I couldn’t end all the suffering in the world; I’m not wise or resourceful enough for that. But I can listen, and learn, and work. I can go out of my way to make things better, for a little while and for a few people and animals.

Creating a society in which all children are safe from harm, respected as people, and emotionally & intellectually equipped to live lives of fulfillment and meaning is a long-term project. Not impossible – nothing is impossible – but I doubt I will live in such a society this side of heaven. But here, now, I will do what I can with what I have.

I’m both excited and apprehensive, right now; I’m excited because giving and serving are exciting to me. That’s who I am. I get to serve children who matter to God. I’m apprehensive because I’ve never done this before. I don’t have any younger (or older) siblings; I haven’t spent a lot of time around children. I’m eager and willing to learn how to be an effective counselor, but I don’t know what to do yet. And if you know me, you know that I like … knowing. But, God’s grace is sufficient for me, and his power is made perfect in weakness, eh?

I just wanted to say that I disagree with the new Pope; I think the church did force itself on the existing cultures of Latin America. And I’m not sure that the people in those cultures were “silently longing” to become Christians.

Just a thought. Perhaps we would be better evangelists if we could admit previous evangelical mistakes.

The paradigmatic distrust of politics and politicians, especially in this social and historical site of an influential pioneer mythology, renders this appeal potentially ineffectual.

What appeal, you ask?

I’ve been hired by an agent from our office to help him with his campaign material as he runs for Cleveland County Commissioner, District 1. So … vote for him. Yeah.

Actually, Glen’s a good guy. I don’t know him all that well, so if he ends up being a phycho, it’s not my fault, but for the most part, I think he’s a good egg. I’m sure he’ll make a fine County Commissioner.

But I have no earthly idea what a County Commissioner actually does, so how should I know? But oh, well; vote for him anyway. Because … you might as well.

So I was listening to the radio on my way to work on Friday. I know, I know; I should know better. It only puts me in a bad mood. But anyway, BobFM’s dumbass morning DJ #1 was being ripped to shreds by dumbass DJs #2 & 3, as well as various callers, because – wait for it – he took his daughter out of school for an afternoon to buy her a bicycle and spend some time with her.

“We don’t always get to do what we want,” a caller said. “There are things we have to do every day. We have to go to school every day; we have to go to work every day. And you’re telling her she doesn’t have to.” “The next thing you know,” said dumbass DJ #2, “she’ll be in middle school, shootin’ heroin and getting tattoos.”

So parents justify their decision to foist their children off to the seven-hour-per-day governmental babysitting and indoctrination service that is the public school system by telling themselves, repeatedly and with loud voices, that the schools have more of a right to their children’s time than they do. That, essentially, parents spending time – during the school day – with their children is actually doing them a disservice. As Austen says, how quick come the reasons for approving what we like.

In high school, I was captain of the academic team, I took all the advanced math courses that were offered, made straight As, attended college concurrently to get a head start, and was generally unslackerish. I graduated valedictorian , after I broke the school’s ACT score record when I was a junior. I went on to graduate from university magna cum laude. I’m not saying that school isn’t important.

Oh, wait. Yes I am. Drat. I’m miserable anyway. Oh, well.