Traffic and Revenge.

the gun i wish i had is quivering in my hand right now, my violence and rage is overpowering and intoxicating, but what if the coin was flipped, what if i couldn't do anything about it, what if it actually played out like this:

The door opens a crack and a soft, mildly upset voice passes through with deceptive ease, "Has anyone seen Nikki?"

I'm sitting on the floor across from my roommate, playing cards, leaning on our bunks. The voice outside belongs to David, one of Nikki's best friends here at the house. He's never really this timid, that's why he and Nikki hit it off. The outgoing people here found each other quickly and spent lots of our group's free time together. I glance at my watch and look up at David, "No, when was the last time you talked to her?"

"She told me after lunch that she was heading downtown to buy a new shirt or something."

It's almost 8 o'clock in the evening. San Francisco is getting dark about now, towering buildings blotting out the sun in the heart of the city, this fine August night.

"Asher, it's almost 8."

"I know David." He's starting the freak me out the more I look at him, watching his expressions change, quickly becoming more and more panicked. "I'm sure she's here somewhere, just keep asking around."

"I've already checked with everyone else."

My heart skips a beat. I feel a chill ripple through my arms and I accidentally drop a couple cards. Derek, my roommate, is none the wiser, and I can see the same wave coming over him.

Here at our group house in San Fran, all of us know all too well what might have happened to Nikki. There are about 25 of us students from around the country studying human trafficking and how to spot it, report it, and take it down. Our high blood pressure is well warranted right now. Every night prostitutes line the streets in certain districts of the city.

Derek and I stand up in a split second and David steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He lowers his gaze and slowly looks up at us, saying, "we need to go find her."

"How the hell do you expect us to do that?" Derek's voice almost cracks, "None of us know our way around here."

A second of silence gives the weight of this situation a little bit more time to etch itself into our collective psyche. Shallow breaths scrape from each of us in raspy turns. I want so badly to panic. And then I just want to be armed. Then I wish I had a car. And, again, a gun.

David breaks the tense stillness, "there are already a couple people on board and willing to go look for her. Nate and Mike and Ernest. But obviously none of them brought their cars."

The three of us stand in a tight cluster at the center of the room. I'm probably stepping all over our card game. I don't give a damn at this point.

"David, maybe we could call the cops."

"Derek, that's insane, they'd be nearly useless. Unless they have a trafficking unit... Okay, we won't rule that out, but let's get other people on board first."

David turns and opens the door and the three of us shuffle out, looking for anyone else with an open door. Mike, Nate, and Ernest come up the stairs, huffing. They must have been running through the whole house. Mike stops a few feet from us, "guys, the Professor's calling the cops. They should be here in a few minutes."

David turns on him, "Why would they need to come here, Mike, huh? Nikki's downtown and needs them there!"

Mike is taken back with David's tone and clears his throat, "Dave, they're gonna take a couple of us downtown to look for her, see if she's just lost."

Nate tries to level out the situation, "Dave, do you know exactly where she was going? Like, what store, what district?"

David looks like he's tripping over his own thoughts. He closes his eyes, saying through gritted teeth, "Macy's, by Union Square."

That's not too bad, I'm thinking. Then I remember Union Square is actually a park. As big as a downtown block, and pretty shady at night. Frankly, it's downtown San Fran--it's not really that safe anytime during the day. I grab David by the shoulder and push him toward the steps, "guys, let's get down there and do what we can. Grab water bottles or blankets and stuff them in a bag. Depending what... well... Nikki may need..."

I don't need to finish my sentence. Since Monday we've heard people speak of the terrors of being hand-cuffed to bed-posts for weeks at a time, laced with drugs enough to sterilize a cow. It only takes about a day or so to get girls addicted to any drug you give them. Nikki's no exception. She's an attractive blonde with a thin frame and long legs. It wouldn't take much of anything to render her senseless. My adrenaline races and I push past them all, yelling at them to go to their rooms and grab something helpful. My yelling causes a couple other doors to open in the upstairs bedrooms.

As I get downstairs, ignoring questions and calls from the others upstairs, I find the Professor waiting by the front door. He stands alone, fidgeting, his cell phone at the ready. In my blurred state of vision right now it looks like he may be packing under his jacket. But for all I know it's just the influx of adrenaline that's causing these visions.

"Asher, hey, are you okay?" He looks concerned.

"Nikki's missing. No I'm not okay. When are the cops getting here?"

"Just a couple minutes."

"We're almost ready to go."

"To go? Asher, you're not going anywhere. The police are just getting a description and a couple photos."

"The hell? Yes, I have to go. David has to go! Mike said they'd take us to help look for her."

"No, not anything like that. We can't get involved."

"Mike wouldn't lie about that, Professor."

"I'm sure he misunderstood or something."

Mike and the others show up behind me.

The Professor turns to him, "Mike, what made you think you all were going with the police?"

"Professor, uh... you said you'd have us ready for them to pick up when they got here."

Everyone looks confused, my heart rate's going insane. Would someone please make a definite statement soon!

The Professor extends his hand, holding an envelope containing a few photos. Outside, we can see red and blue flashes growing brighter. There's no siren, or maybe there is, but I can't focus enough to hear it if it's there. "Mike, I told them I'd have these pictures ready for them to pick up."

Mike and David nearly collapse.

"I'm sorry, but no one here is going with them."

Ernest blurts out, "But Nikki's out there! We don't know if she's okay! Professor, we're the only ones who know anything about her, about the way she walks, what she looks like, what she might be wearing! The cops need us out there! Nikki needs us!"

The Professor's eyes flash with anger and anxiety and in a cold, thinly masked wavering tone, "I know. The cops don't work that way, and we don't have any jurisdiction to see if we could find her in another person's house or business." He pauses and I can see a vein bulging on his neck. "Guys, I need you to help calm everyone else down right now. The cops will do the best they can out there. The law only allows them to conduct searches anyway. We can't break laws trying to find lawbreakers... That's just not how this works."

"That's bull!" Did I really just say that? The skin over my knuckles seems tight and stretched. God, is this really happening?

"Asher, calm down. There's nothing else you can do right now. If any of you want to pray, that would be great, and for those that don't, I need you to stay calm. Nothing can get done without--"

Someone's knocking on the door. The yellow light from the lamps in the room is intermittently over-powered by red and blue hues flashing almost as fast as my pulse.

The Professor walks to the door and opens it with a shaking hand. Two uniformed officers step in. The looks of apathy smeared across their faces disturbs me. You don't know what you're doing, do you? You little pricks can't do anything with that lack of concern! Just give me your damn badge and gun. I'll do your job better.

"Hello Professor, What was Nikki wearing?"

David steps forward, "A green jacket and um... these blue jeans with little swirlies of gold and red or pink or something. Her sister Sandra, she made them for her last year, she..." David drops his eyes, "Take me with you, officers, I can spot her from a mile away."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, sir."

David seems to be convulsing. "She's my best friend. You have to understand."

"There are ways we can and cannot go about things. We can't take you with us. You just have to trust us."

"Find her. Find her, officers." He raises his eyes to meet the taller officer's, catching him off-guard. "Find her tonight, or expect that I'll be joining the search first thing tomorrow."

"You can't do that, sir. That's not in your jurisd--"

"Damnit! Don't tell me what I can and cannot do."

I'm not sure, but I think I could absolutely expect David to take someone's life for Nikki. These cops better know how serious this is to us.

David's not done, "Find her tonight. You don't want to have to deal with all of us if you don't."

I am expecting some sort of confrontation from the cops right now, but for some reason, these two seem to get the point, and instead of anything further said to aggravate David, they simply say:

"Green jacket, blue jeans with colored swirls. We'll do our best."

The Professor closes the door behind them and I ponder how trite and half-ass that statement always sounds: "We'll do our best."

Will you, really? Cause I'm sure I could do better.

I am told to return to my room. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I notice David's as frozen as I am. Someone is trying to urge us both to move and head upstairs. Eventually the hand on my shoulder loosens its grip and I and David are left alone in a silent, tense, pulsating foyer. My ears are throbbing.

The gun I wish I had is quivering in my hand right now, my violence and rage is overpowering and intoxicating...

Find her. Get her here safe. Bring her captors to justice. Or I, and most likely David, will seek revenge. Every one of those creeps deserves a full clip of hot lead in them.

It seems like hours before I release my muscles and try to walk away from the foyer. David is still standing there, motionless, when I close the door to my room. I look at Derek and catch his eye. We don't have to say anything. We're on the same page.

As I lay down and Derek kills the lights, I stare blindly up at the ceiling. Just a few thoughts running through my head:

Find her. Get her to safety. Bring her captors to justice.
Find her.
Save her.
Now.

17 pages in an hour for her. 17 hours by the radio for them.

i remember it clearly, the second week on outreach, most poignantly on the 27th and 28th of December, my friend borrowing my AM radio, sitting in a small hut on the outskirts of Mwanza, Tanzania.

two major events occurred on the 27th of December, 2007. it was a day that rocked my world.

Kenyans voted for a president, the election being rigged to favor the incumbent. the next 30-odd days awash with blood in a nation heralded as Africa's most peaceful. near 1000 deaths triggered by the lies of the rulers.






Pakistanis lost and began mourning for one of the most prominent women in southern Asian politics.




Benazir Bhutto, the former twice-run Prime Minister, recently returned from Exile, was shot in the back of the head and then blown up by a suicide bomber.

i spent the next several months of my life engrossed entirely in news and updates concerning these two events. i spent countless hours with my friend Joy, from Kenya, listening to my radio for any news of change and peace in her homeland.

i spent nearly an hour in a Barnes & Noble stateside a month later, reading Benazir's book, 'Reconciliation'. the final draft of this manuscript was handed to her friend and editor the morning before her assassination. i read the whole first chapter, all 17 pages, trembling in the plush chair.

tomorrow marks the first anniversary of both of these monumental events.

some great change has come to these two nations, while yet another crisis looms for one and progress has been slow in another. tomorrow i will likely sit, trembling, reading the headlines commemorating such tragic loss of life.

only this time there's still hope for things to get better.

i am

i am the Black Militant.
i am the Muslim Extremist.
i am the Illegal Alien.
i am the Welfare Slacker.
i am the St. Claire Gang Banger.
i am the South Side Whore.
i am the Tattooed Convict.
i am the Sleazy Pimp.
i am the Drug Dealer.
i am the one you throw your stereotypes on.
i am the minority you want to categorize.
i am the minority you fear.
i am the minority you rule.
i am the minority you monopolize.
i am all of these and none of these.



sadly, i am white.
i am just like you.
i am just like you as any one of these.
i am just like you when not one of these.
you don't see it the right way.
you don't see the similarity in our differences.
all you want is our deference.
because you're in power.

i am Troy Davis.
i am Timothy McVeigh.
i am John Brown.
i am Fred Ahmed Evans.
i am Eric Harris.
i am Dylan Klebold.

and thanks to you, i am out of luck.
and thanks to you, i am forced down.
i am oppressed.
i am where i am.

and i think you know who i blame.

must be that the world's gone lame.

i found this horrifying article last night after reading 90+ pages from a book i had to read for history class (which ironically ties in because the last two chapters of this book detail the 1899 Newsies strike in New York City, and several subsequent strikes shortly after the turn of the century).

this article, found on my Yahoo! browser as i went to check my e-mail last night right after grabbing some dinner and returning to my room, lit a fire in my idling heart.

i am reading a powerful book written by the honored Dr. King, Why We Can't Wait, in 1963. it has touched something in my warring, violent heart that i thought i had dealt with and reasoned away.

i thought i'd finally come to grips with a philosophy called "Christian Realism", which entails a desire for peace via peaceful methods, but a realisation that there are certain situations in this world, ALL (in my belief) affecting civilian casualties and the defense thereof. it is the belief that Dietrich Bonhoeffer acted justly in his reaction to Hitler's war on the Jews and half the modern world over 60 years ago. Bonhoeffer, a German minister, was in league with a group intent on assassinating the Fuehrer. and on numerous occasions they very nearly did. and as a result many of them, brother Dietrich included, were executed within a narrow margin of War's End in Europe.

so that's where i think i normally am. i spend my time reading the writings of men like Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, Reinhold Niebuhr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and (most painfully and obviously) my dear brother Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the one i feel closest to as i read his words or hear his voice.

and, like i said, it is painful to read Martin's words on peace and nonviolent resistance.
it is hard to feel so strongly against oppression and know that there are situations in which i would take up arms to defend the weak, the poor, the oppressed, and frankly any kid who needed help and couldn't get it any other way.

but then, there are situations where nonviolence works to get the point across, if not to completely begin a surge in liberation... though in the case of the US Civil Rights Movement it is often a longer, slower battle to continue to suffer for.

i found a video today that changed my perspective on other social struggles and movements around the world in which nonviolence is used and definitely gets the point across.

EZLN supporters (i.e. the People) storm a military outpost, unarmed. i'm not sure what's going on or what their intent is as they storm in, but it's the coolest thing ever to watch them break the barbed wire fence and march right up into the outpost, forcing the ARMED soldiers back against the walls of the central building.

just watch. there's hope in nonviolence that i didn't know existed beyond these borders.
blows me away!

26

the windshield wiper's been at it for a few minutes. it's starting to thump against the car.

hustle, bustle, and, so much muscle
cells about to separate
i find it hard to concentrate
and, temporary this
cash and carry 'em
stepping up to indicate
the time has come to deviate

the rain pours harder. i grip the wheel with my left hand, holding on tight as the curves wind.

and, all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this moment to make you my family
and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...

my right hand is so blessed as to be interlocked with yours. you lean toward me in your seat, fingers rapt with mine.

death defying this
mess i'm buying its
raining down with love and hate
now, i find it hard to motivate

the tires peel and turn as i speed on to my house to show off my amazing best friend-turned-love.

and, estuary is, blessed but scary
heart's about to palpitate
i'm not about to hesitate
and, want to treasure the rest of your days here
and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear

you speak loud enough to be heard over our new favorite song, telling me of your family, giving me more reason to love them and you.

and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...
here we go

our windows are rolled down just enough, the rain-guards not really working and i don't care as my arms gets sprayed by the intoxicating rain.

do you want me to show up for duty?
and, serve this woman, and honor her beauty
and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...

hungry and thirsty, still several tens of miles from a dinner we're incredibly late for, there's peace in your touch and the fleeting glance.

...yourself... with me, will
you, agree to take this man
into your world
and now, we are as one

i'm blown away by who you are, where you're from and that you have faith in us despite neither of us having a great track record.

my lone ranger
the, heat-exchanger
is, living in this figure eight
now i do my best to recreate
and, sweet precision
and, soft collision
heart's about to palpitate
now i find it hard to separate

i am broken, my past the rap sheet of a criminal of the heart. too many broken behind me, my own in shambles...

and, all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this woman and make you my family
and, finally you have found someone perfect
and, finally you have found...

you are perfect, the beautiful woman i love and will hold and hold dear forever. i want you and you alone.

all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this woman and make you my family
and, finally you have found someone perfect
and, finally you have found...
Yourself...

as the final word rings out i look into your eyes a second longer than you'd like as the road blurs beneath us.

as the final ring is cast and dyed i breathe in something never tasted before. i know. i love you. te quiero tanto... tanto... tanto... tanto... tanto.....




[lyrics by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Hard to Concentrate", sentences written entirely, completely genuinely, by me]

first. drink it black.

i've been up for ALMOST an hour at this point this morning.

i've gotten into the habit lately of spending nearly at least an hour on the phone with a particular loved one every night (at least while i'm away at school). that tends to make me tired, but for some reason i get up really bloody early anyway.

the clock read 11.57 when i hit the pillow last night and about 7.03 when i rose this morning, my body itching incessantly on my legs, my arm.

i've got poison ivy. again. it normally lasts me about a month. hopefully not this time. i've caught it early and applied calomine lotion this morning, then came back to my dorm room, put on the coffee, and watched a ridiculously pointless fake video called 'Everyday Normal Guy', and showed it to my roommate.

poured some cereal, it's got real strawberries in it :) and Silk Soymilk. pretty healthy, and should be vegan, too, i think :) :)

coffee stopped choking and bubbling about five minutes ago and i poured it into a mug. took the first sip.

i drink it black. Imogen Heap's playing loud into my ears. Hide and Seek.

without a mug of coffee every morning, i get a caffeine headache. but i think i wrote about that some time last year, probably...

i was starting to get a vague headache until that first sip. the first sip is really good.

how great is it that i start the day with a hot mug of bold black coffee and a conversation with God, and that i finish out the day with another conversation with God and a great conversation with her! i am blessed. :)

i lose

one of my favourite games of all time is Risk.
i think i have this vague sense that at some point in history i won that game once.
but as a general rule, i know i always lose.

and yet it is still among my favourites.
while sitting here before church, reading about suffering for the Name (a Name i believe is also so often attributed to true justice and righteous acts for the sake of the people) from the sermon on the mount, and listening to Coldplay's Viva la Vida, it occurred to me exactly why i love that game so much!

i love fighting hard--to the last man--until my imminent defeat against an enemy so big that i know they'll crush me, but until that moment, until that day, I'LL GIVE 'EM HELL!


in that sense it feels like reality, the way i expect my life to play out if God puts me where i think he'll put me--
before an unjust enemy.

write your letters
grit your teeth
say your prayers
lock and load.

routinized, scrutinized, mutinized

two of the title words are not recognized by the google dictionary spellings. they're not usually turned into verbs in this way, they are meant to be nouns and things that just happen without any intent. overtly.

however, i feel like college has begun to routinize me, which is not exactly what i would desire for myself, or for anyone i care about. it strips away my ability to frequently make random calls and break from the "normal". classes are great, as i've already said, but i feel mildly constrained by the routine that these classes are pushing on me.

it makes sense to me then that i scrutinize the system that does this to me. after all, are we not taught to think for ourselves in school? ;) i'm not trying to write this in an annoying way, or a rebellious manner. i say this pretty light-heartedly, but i like to examine the vague irony of it. i am routinized by things that i love, and by someone i love, whose voice every night is so calming and intoxicating that it soothes my mind and body to sleep, even if my heart denies me sleep by pounding fiercely inside my tossing and turning body, until i wrap my arms around my pillow and "pretend i am kissin the lips that i am missin".

that's the kind of routine i used to hate about having a girlfriend, but things have changed since that sort of routine came after getting to know her so much better on a friendship level for nearly two months, spending at least an hour or two in conversation with her nearly every single day, face to face, shopping with her for foods both of us can eat, sodas she'll make me finish after her first sip, and tiny pieces of manufactured and discovered oddities in jewelry stores that accentuate beautiful characteristics of her or of any other soul that dons them.

the routine of her voice every night these past two weeks has been really helpful for me. and really enlightening, as well.

so, due to the scrutiny
i've placed on the layers of routine
that affect my every day's and "some day's"
i have determined that i will break away from all of the unhealthy routines
and focus only on the healthy ones, allowing the rest to fit in place
and my branching out--i'll call it mutiny--
will allow me to make some changes
in the way this world views justice.

i declare mutiny against the harmful status quo.

i may only have a semester here at this particular institution, which means i've got a few months to make a mark and make sure as many in the region as possible, are aware of injustice on a global scale, and have begun to find methods of fighting back.

routine scrutinized produces mutiny.

i like it this way ;)

~a poli sci major~

that's what i am.
and i'm proud of it
excited for it
intoxicated by it

never thought i'd see the day where i'd love class ha!
not when i was in seventh grade, no way, man!

but here i am, loving all my classes!

it's strange, but totally cool!

you know it's a good class when you're unable to sit still, leaning forward too eagerly, laughing too much, and smiling like an idiot. normally those would all be signs of lunacy. or, perhaps, even now they are! either way, i've really enjoyed my four classes so far!

Chinese 101: Introduction to Chinese
Political Science 130: American Government
Political Science 280: Comparative Political Systems
History 202: American History 1877-Present

this morning, sitting in my Pols 130 class, i couldn't help but feel a lot like i do when i listen to Coldplay's 'Viva la Vida'! yesterday afternoon, for class, i read the Declaration of Independence and was struck by the similarities of all the things Jefferson indicated warranting a revolt, and all the things that've pissed me off about the Bush administration.

the problem is that there's not enough to engage the masses in such a movement against the standing government. the Declaration even outlines the need and permissions for "abolishing" the government if "abuses" continue. Jefferson also makes allowance for the larger portion of the colonists being willing to "suffer, as long as evils are sufferable" and to feel no larger reason to take action and declare a new Rule.

at this point, in all fairness, what i perceive to be evils in the current government's way of handling things, are not entirely insufferable. i recognize that there is little that can be done at this point, save from joining movements that wage a more figurative war, fought by the People and for the People, in the modes of the common People.

armed struggle is not even yet a remote option. there's not yet any need. as long as there is any semblance of democratic form in the government that stands in reign today, there is certainly apt opportunity to change for the better, to sacrifice the goods of the few for the good of the many.

i am not opposed to armed struggle under duress, in such a situation as it becomes the unavoidable last straw.

UPRISING, the film:

the Jews are being marched out of the ghetto for the express purpose of being carted out to the concentration camps and extermination camps.

a covert handful of the Jews is armed.

as they turn a corner and the column of Nazi troops is no longer connected in a direct line, madness and chaos interrupt the stoic march as this collective of citizen-soldiers opens fire on the soldiers that would coral them to their deaths.

one bullet, one Nazi.

in this firefight there is an open for hope to eek into the darkness of the ghetto.

the Nazis take a surprisingly long time to deal with the uprising, and by the time everything is dealt with, entire companies of soldiers have been exhausted against less than 50 untrained, passionate rebels.

it's in this saga of struggle and sweat and blood that some of the Jews make it to freedom via the sewers. in this saga justice is the victor.

...

i am a political science major, hell-bent on bringing heaven to earth, even if for a fleeting moment, in the lives of the oppressed.

i don't want enemies, but it comes with the territory.

it's the kind of life and future that i must lay everything else down for, and it is so incredibly exciting to be getting more and more involved with other people who are willing to fight and die for such a beautiful cause as justice, for such a sacredness as Shalom.

i'm going deeper.
the oxygen down here is sparse
many will fall back before the end
many will faint
and before i can even get there
many will be lost

but i will not stop.
as long as there is injustice in the world, the Christian's work is not finished.
the Disciple of a Just God must learn to love Justice... and to love it so much that the thirst for it burns in their throat in the most difficult of global regions, while they know that there will be no way to quench such a divine thirst without expending oneself completely in the struggle for truth and beauty and justice.

let it be a final song, perfectly in tune with God's greatest masterpiece!

Shalom, sisters and brothers.

what if i stumble, what if i fall?

as Rob Bell has pointed out in one of his sermon's i've watched, everything is spiritual. there is to be no separation between our spirits and our bodies.

if that be the case then why do i struggle to stand so often?

i have many close friends whom i look to for guidance in life, people i imagine to be more strongly in touch with the Father. i look to them when i am weak in my walk. i look to them when i don't feel weak even (which may be when i am truly weakest, at times) and i see their example to be almost unattainable.

as many have struggled with over the years, i wonder if i am no longer simply IN the world, and if i've not become, somewhere along my self-infatuated path, OF the world.

in my efforts to be relevant i've only weakened the message and power of the Gospel.

each time i think i'm starting to get back on track i see that a friend is so much MORE excited about God than i am, and that they broadcast it more publicly than i. and i crumple, for i do not wish to be like them. i do not want to be known simply for shouting on and on of how much i'm in love with Jesus. i don't want to look to people like Jesus is all that i think about, though he most often is EXACTLY what i wish i could be channeled into 100% of the time. i just don't want to come across as though i'm saying i am "holier than thou". which is perhaps what i feel like when i look at others so seemingly in love with Jesus and at peace for it.

and this is the part in the story where i realize it is incredibly likely i am frankly OF the world.

and i don't know how to regain my stance of being in, and not of...

i see now that i am avoiding exactly what i want because i hate the idea of being titled and labeled and named as "one of them". it is not fear of association, as much as it is fear of being stuck, dependent under one title, one label alone.
and yet as much as i know my only real claim to any identity comes through Christ's claim on me, as a human trying to make an impact, and avoid stereotypes, i try to outrun his grace, love, and possession of my heart that i absolutely want him alone to have.

i am a stupid mule who is ignoring the call of the only farmer who will give me rest from the cold, tired world, just because i don't want to be seen as the one who wimped out and couldn't make it on his own. even though i know it is the best possible thing in this world for me, and maybe there's not even enough people watching me to see me "wimp out."

a strange place indeed, Watson.

Cambodia-Phnom Penh-Tuol Sleng

three times now since waking up today, Cambodia's come to mind.

punjabican and i are coming to a place where our futures after college are nearing rapidly and we need to get a strong jump on exactly what will be involved in the process of metamorphosis between college and 'the real world'. though i understand the sentiment and reality of college being its own safe little world, i've also come to find that there is a great deal that is accessible in my life at this point.

i think that up until this point i've blinded myself to the options due to my location in nearly rural Indiana... a place i'm still hardly fond of, all things considered.

but now i'm starting to realize i really need to break out of this self-inflicted coma and strike out into the world bravely and recklessly. i've held back for fear of dead-ending (but worse dead-end can you come to than an intentional stand-still?) and for fear of not knowing enough and not being able to do anything. ignorance was never really bliss for me, because i've always wanted to learn that which i do not already know. and now that i'm learning more and more i only find my past and present ignorance to be an aggravation i wish to have dealt without.

i wish people here in the western world knew more about people beyond their borders, our borders... i wish people here cared about the Khmer Rouge's devastating affects, and knew what language is spoken in countries in the Horn of Africa, and knew how many years people have been held captive by FARC in Colombia, and understood what overpopulation can do to a country that is becoming the economic forefront with no moral accountability from the international community.

i wish a lot of things. i wish people didn't want to wage war on other people they don't understand. i wish they would change their minds.

so i pray for them, i pray for the future that people who learn and know and realise will be able to affect in some way. i pray that i can be effective as well in causing change.

i wish americans and the rest of us ruling the western world (and everyone underneath us) could learn to "...live simply so that others may simply live."

three times now since waking up today, Cambodia's come to mind. i'm not sure where to start, i'm relatively certain that people simply won't care about an aging museum documenting lost lives and forgotten atrocities, despite the fact that it's invaluable history is crumbling and yellowing and fading and walking precariously near the edge of oblivion and the unknown.

i don't think you will care to look anything up that i mentioned in here, after reading this. but i hope you will.

punjabican and i are aspiring to go to Tuol Sleng, a museum in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, that's taken a stand in the former prison building, known as S-21, where all the people whose faces and stories adorn the walls were executed en masse simply because the Khmer Rouge wanted to revitalize a nation 30 years ago...
we dream of being able to go to this museum and spend several months photographing and scanning everything into an electronic vault where it should hopefully never be forgotten. we're also hoping for grant money to stabilize the museum itself and all its displays of lives lost. though the specifics are not yet managed, this is our hope, and maybe God will see fit to send us to a forgotten place to help people everywhere else remember them.

please pray for us, pray for an end to ignorance around the world and in your own homes and schools.

Asanteni sana, watu wangu!

Peace be with you.

unbreakable: three words brought to you by Bruce Willis

i recently watched the film 'Unbreakable' with my mom, sister, and brother, while dad was out of town. i'm talking about the one by M. Night Shyamalan starring Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson.

i was thinking about how Bruce Willis' character, David Dunn, actually does something about the horrible crimes he learns of, and fights back to rescue people and to bring justice.

if we know that something is going wrong, and we know we can keep someone from getting hurt... why don't we?

i could have gone deeper and written more, but i think those three words are all that need saying:

if we can help people, save people, rescue people,

WHY
DON'T
WE?

How to NOT vote pro-life:::

i read this on my friend Kristy's sister-in-law's blog...

http://theheidaway.blogspot.com/2008/05/now-this-just-makes-me-angrydoes-it-not.html

i work at Target, pushing carts. i see a lot of bumper stickers in a given day.

i see this one a lot, surprisingly:

"i vote pro-life". an american flag waves in the background.

this sticker reeks of two things i hate.
1. nationalism (as a Christian recognizing a global family, christian and non-christian, this is elementarily disgusting and elitist as a concept--especially when it provokes war)
2. the term pro-life (which in-and-of-itself should be concerned with ALL HUMAN LIFE. not so, with the republican party, whom i would imagine they are meaning to show support for, by donning this sticker)

"pro-life" should mean what it says, but since there's not one political party (i can find) that dodges nationalism and a pro-death stance... i think it's BS to vote for any single party ALL the TIME!

don't tell me you vote pro-life. we can't vote pro-life. i can't vote pro-life, but i can try to influence senators and representatives and candidates for all positions of power to lean away from killing american babies too, since at least the democrats are less happy about killing Iraqi babies, so far.

i hate double standards.

get angry. tell somebody else. try to change things and REALLY work for a pro-life stance. right now, obviously not enough people are.

and yes, i have every intention of tagging every single person in my friends list. hopefully i'll get a reaction, sisters and brothers.

instead of "voting pro-life", elect to live pro-life!

PAX.

you provoke me

crawling in the mud, sticking to your fingers, caking your face. you belly down and ease so slowly, silently toward the goal.

the enemy standing at the gate. beyond it is all you ever cared about gaining.

behind you is all you ever cared about--lost.

at this pinnacle... this dare-devil collage of thoughts and racing hearts, your chest burns with everything you've ever felt.

swirling into one surge, one un-dying urge--a tornado of truth and heart.

you have nothing to hold you back any more. between the fences.

to attempt is to kill yourself. to forego, and remain, is suicide. if not worse.

when faced with the moment when the guard looks away, walks away, exists away from your goal--your promise--what not to do other than charge forth?

get up! go! race toward it with all your might!

even as the sights of so many guns bear down upon your bloody forelock, there is little left they can take.

when you can claim it all, just on the other side.

just outside the shiny barbed wire of Guantanamo, a boat is waiting to carry you away to your reality they tried to rob from you.

just JUMP!

God is jumping with you!

--

pax.

Food Not Bombs

i just called their number that i found listed in a couple places online, and i talked to a very friendly and easy-going Desiree, who's gotten hundreds of calls, probably, as so many people have been looking for FNB apparently.

she took my email and is going to pass along that and my number to people she's in contact with where she's at in Bloomington now.

apparently they're going to be camping out in northern indiana to block the building of a mexico-canada interstate, this May.

i don't know if i can join them, but i'd love to once i learn more about the situation.

basically, this is pretty cool, just thought i'd share it since i feel like i could really get involved in some stuff now!

PAX.

oh the places i'll go!

there's a forlorn city on the Horn of Africa that's been bombed to hell a thousand times over and the people are aching...

i want to go there.

there's an old prison-turned-museum where the photographs of history's victims are fading with age, in Cambodia...

i want to go there.

there's a 5,000-year-old city on the Syrian coastline that's full of old books with words that read from right to left...

i want to go there.

there's a country of real people outside the green-zone, where guns trounce dogs as man's best friend, and war rages...

i want to go there.

there's a world outside my world, beyond my New York Life, that bustles with real human heartbreak and laughter...

i want to BE there.

Adonai, my dad in Heaven, help me be as you.

i have a dilemma...

...that makes me feel childish, yet i am nearly twenty.

it is possible that someone is reading this who knows very well the person to whom i am referring, when i state that i have likely royally screwed up a friendship with someone i never got the chance to get too close to, before i went and buggered it up with short-sighted remedies of simple anxiety. and now, i am afraid to lose her friendship because she seems really cool.

maybe i'll get another chance, but for the time being, pray as i might for things to return to normalcy, i have no idea how i must act to fix this for the long-term.

anyone who's known me more than a year can gather a fuller extent of info simply based on experience with me. yeah, it's probably what you're thinking. and yeah, i need help, and suggestions.

this'd be so much easier if i just knew more people here. then i'd have balanced everything out to begin with, but i didn't know hardly anyone else, so i messed up by focusing so intently on one friendship that i frankly blew a hole in whatever had been built up.

tonight i went out with some guys from church (all at least 3 or 4 years older than me, which made me feel special) to see Leatherheads, after watching some Rob Bell sermon stuff at bible study, and it was really helpful to get out again, with GUYS!!!! when the freak did THAT last happen?! it was cool.

balance is re-taking what it once held to its own, and hopefully with this balance, and with my striving to give her just the right amount of space, there will be healing, and i will rejoice in that. for now, though, i'm content to be working in the right direction, and asking God to help me get there.

pax, everyone.

confession (round 2)

last May i posted about several major character flaws of mine.

since that time i haven't really had too many opportunities to say anything further on the topic of my character flaws. but now i've come up with a reason for that to change.

i've got another character flaw to address and willingly expose to the few who don't already see this in me. tonight i had a bit of a chance to reflect on all my past relationships with girlfriends... i was driving home from a Bible study where the leader's daughter (a friend of my little sister) said something along the lines of, "so, i heard you got engaged in Africa?" apparently my sister had not only blabbed to this friend, but to a hand-full of other friends i've never even met, not to mention this friend tonight told her mother, and i've already told her father, in another related discussion.

it doesn't really bother me at all that people know this about me (as long as i'm able to explain and contextualize that statement!) fact of the matter is that i was, in fact, according to cultural norms, engaged to a girl i met on my team in Arusha, simply because i found her attractive and she caught on. it was all a whirlwind from there. we ended up fine by the end of it, sticking to our single selves, however, somewhere along the lines i'd further damaged my credibility, and apparently, she had as well. or i had done so, for her. i don't really know, or comprehend it all.

the point is, including the fact that i've been engaged already and "broken it off" (though i was oblivious of the severity of it until about a month and a half later!) i've simply had too many girlfriends too deal with myself. i'm not proud of it, and it's shown me just how weak i really am in this area.

i wear a purity ring. it's a small, ding-ed up silver ring on my left ring finger. from over 5 feet away, looks like i'm married. i look over 20, sometimes as old as 26, apparently... basically, with this ring on, i look untouchable.

that's just the way i want it to be for now--i'm still trying to go a couple years on my own, just workin things out with God, since i really haven't had such a chance since my sophomore year of high school... ergo it's time for a bleedin' break!

basically, i mess up. i ROYALLY mess up. i go back and forth between the Reign of Over-Zealous and the Reigned-in Over-Cautious! apparently, subconsciously i think that firing both kinds of weapons will balance things out and create a pleasant, neutral reaction. sometimes i get lucky (i.e. not dumb) and i ease in a statement here or there, where it could've been quite explosive instead, and totally read in the wrong (or right) way! thankfully, that hasn't happened too recently... barely.

just trying to hold myself together, and keep my sights on Aslan, and not get too tripped up trying to play the field for the time being. i've done enough of that at this point. i apologize to all whom i've hurt. please forgive me.

hopefully this next stint on earth will prove better-handled.

PAX.

off my chest

when something's bottled up for a while and doesn't go away, it's cool to get it off your chest, even if you risk pain or perpetuating confusion. at least you've said your piece. and now i have peace. and grace to continue.



thanks be to God, my beautiful, adoring Adonai. for you have blessed a humbled man.

Smile Empty Soul vs. An Unforgettable Pair

i found this video on youtube.

the song's 'This Is War' by Smile Empty Soul

the lyrics are profane, but otherwise not graphic, and the scenes from Black Hawk Down are gruesome, but it fits, in a poetical justice sort of way.

here's the chorus:

"i drove in a car
i flew in a plane
to come to your house
and kick your door in

and now that it's down to this
it's just you and me
i'll blow your f----- head off
for my country"

----

i know half the time all i do on this blog is complain about war and war crimes and human rights abuses.

i know there are lovely flowers out there, but sometimes the stench of death and war can overcome the soft fragrance of flowers.

i don't think i'll stop writing about this stuff every now and then until every last person recognizes that we all need to be "anti-war" in order to let love in.

as an example, today after work i went to a coffee shop i'm falling in love with, down on Main Street today, just myself and my books, and a couple dollars. i ended up only reading about two paragraphs before getting so wrapped up in a fun conversation with Michelle--the girl who served me my regular 16oz. and a mocha that she decorated just for me, since she felt she forced it on me (just so she could make a pretty design) who's hoping to study forensic science in the fall (and already has the "geek's guide" to it--and Greg--a regular customer at Jerry's shop, a good friend of Jerry's, and an expert on experimenting with cigars and making jokes and being welcoming (who has a half-smoked cigar in the ash-tray of his truck and is happily divorced, and doesn't watch many movies).

it was cool. we talked about whatever, for almost an hour, informally, and i came to really like them. i hope i'll run into em both on the same day again, it was really cool. i realized that just having a conversation with them made me really care about them. kinda weird, and over-sappy, but it was cool.

if we just take the time (and have the guts) to talk to someone, we could enjoy an invaluable connection, and the world will become smaller, and nobody will really be a stranger (or enemy) any longer.

thanks God, you made my day with that pair!



pax.