Voice for the Visionaries

Avid are the fans of this legalism. Devoted are the proponents of this righteous movement. Set in their ways are they. Stuck in their ways I seem to be. The path they set for right or wrong is the path I, along with they, follow. When the doctrine of “always was” drowns out the practicality of “what if” and the ideology of “safe steps” dominates the hopes of “what could be”, what do we have left, how can change come? We look behind us at the path that got us here and realize it is not the best way to go. Yet we look ahead... we move ahead in the way we’ve known. The way we've hated, the way that is familiar, the way that is accepted, the way that follows what our philosophers and thinkers, as shallow as they may be, have taught, written, and demanded. Change does not come easy. We walk the path we know before we forge the path that is best. We say its worth the risk, we think we’re wrong. We are the cynics, the philosophers, the sarcastic, the analyzers, and criticizers of this generation. We see so much potential, we’ve been given vision. We see.
Avid are the fans of legalism. Devoted are the proponents of this righteous movement. Set in their ways are they. Stuck in their ways we seem to be. Why don’t the visionaries speak in the city squares? Why don’t the prophets scream from the rooftops? Why don’t the cynics rise against to bring rebellion? Why don’t the seers bring their visions to the masses? Why do we stand in the shadows of the shallow? Visionaries should be the vision casters. That we might bring what could be into the world of what is. That we could make know to all what we have spoken amongst ourselves. That we could shout from the street corners and roof tops what we have whispered in the secret places. Let us bring the visions in our eyes to the people. That change may come. That we would no longer be slaves of what has always been. That we may be free in what can be... what is. When the masses raise their voices to a mighty scream the sirens song is of no effect, indeed the sirens song is dead. Raise your voices masses. Show them what to scream oh visionaries.

old poems

"The Weight of Glory (Tread Carefully Saints)"

life hangs in the balance of
these moments and choices
made in haste or careful (sometimes carefree) consideration
walking through minefields
and holy ground
makes for a heavy heart
and light steps
to understand
what every step can mean
and has meant to
saints sinners martyrs murders
and every soul in between
rusty shrapnel
and hallowed shrines
serve to remind of the consequences
of every step taken
and every blade of grass broken
by my foot...
and I am so frightened

God only knows if I'll make it or not
so I spray these 9 bullets cause they're all that I got

heavy heart light feet as I tread through mine fields
the footsteps of the martyrs will lead me home


"thirty thousand dollars well spent"

College dorms and overpriced books hallways wallpapered in phallic jokes a shower may be too much work a shot of cologne and a fabreeze sprayed shirt should work another paper why was Marx wrong was that a curse word in that song another sarcastic comment followed by an empty apology ten page papers screw it solitaire I ran out of gel so shave my hair was she looking at me or leading me on I will pray about it then pine over what went wrong wear my heart on my sleeve and my philosophy on my shirt self deprecations one thing but correction can hurt sarcasm is my best friend but no one else will be rebuke is a bad icebreaker but doe eyed females are deadly I love christian college


This one is my response Paris Hilton going to jail and the media circus that went with it:
"the news (a poem about whats important in the good ol' U.S of A)"
somepoliticianisontrialPARISHILTONISINJAILblahblahblah
darfurSHECRIEDWHENSHERECEIVEDHERSENTENCEsome
crapabouttheeconomyorsomethingSHEWASDRAGGEDFROM
THECOURTROOMSCREAMINGFORHERMOMMYtheresbeen
awargoingonactuallymaybeafewSHEISBEINGRELOCATEDSIG
HTINGMEDICALCONCERNSaidspandemicBOOKDEALSARE
BEINGDISCUSSEDpolaricecapsmeltingVERSACEDOESN'TMA
KEORANGEJUMPSUITS

if it helps... there are 9 characteristics listed in the fruit of the spirit.

media propaganda (I swear I'm not paranoid)

This is an image on myspace advertising for people to "get out and vote!"
What fun!
Whether intentional or not this seems like total propaganda and it frustrates me. I'm not stating my political views here. I don't know who I'm voting for. But this picture here seems to present a bias. Obama looks comfortable, relaxed, confident, and (in the most heterosexual way possible) attractive. While McCain... well, he doesn't even look like he knows where on God's green earth he is. He looks awkward, like the uncle at the family party no one wants to be there and was invited out of guilt but refuses to get the hint and leave.
Perhaps I'm reading into this too much, I've been accused of as much in my life. But I know two things: 1) Media has a powerful effect on culture and politics, and 2) Media (particular that marketed at our generation: MTV, bloggers, etc) have been less than candid about their left leaning, which is often masked with bipartisan "Get out the vote" rhetoric. I'll quickly explain these two points:
1) Had I not settled on Church history as a major I might have put my mind towards a number of different historical subjects. One of the topics that has interested me the most is the history of media and its impact on culture, particularly the impact television has had on culture and politics (and more recently the internet). In the election between Nixon and Kennedy (which the Wikipeadians can tell you about here) in 1960 television is said to have played a pivotal role. As best as I can remember (The wikipedians are no help in reminding me) this was the first election with a televised debate that was also over radio. Showing up to the debate Kennedy was shaved, with a nice black suit and healthy disposition. Nixon showed up with stubble, a brown suit (that did not look good on cameras), and was sick. Needless to say he was much less visually appealing. The interesting thing is that a survey showed that those who watched the debate felt that Kennedy did better, while those who listened on the radio believed Nixon did better. Clearly, the new visual component had a dramatic effect that the Kennedy administration planned for (they did test screenings) and Nixon did not. I'm not necessary saying this is a bad thing, I'm just saying its something we need to be aware of. We need to consider how the media is subconsciously influencing us.
2) MTV in 1992 had the "Rock the Vote" campaign trying to get college age students to get out and vote. The MTV generation was told the importance of their vote on the nation. Clearly their leaning was towards the left, giving positive time to Clinton. Chris Cornell, lead singer from Sound Garden and Audioslave, later went on record saying that he did not contribute to the Rock the Vote ads because he felt that MTV was more interested in getting people to vote for Clinton, rather than getting people to vote in general. He felt this was misleading. So do I. I have no problem with people making their voices heard regarding who they feel will make a better candidate. I am uncomfortable with them disguising it as unbiased when it clearly is.

Apathy City

I wanted to conduct a social experiment. I wanted to find out if anyone in this city cared about anyone else. I was going to be the bait, every person I walked past was going to be my test subject.
I did not want dramatic acts of heroism. I just wanted a smile, a nod, even for someone just to look me in the eye... just to acknowledge my existence as a human being.
No one smiled, no one nodded, hardly anyone looked me in the eye, and a few people nearly ran into me had I not noticed them first and moved out of their way.

I was disappointed.

A self-righteous disappointment. These masses, so caught up in their own lives, too narcissistic to care about anyone else but themselves, so wrapped up in their own lives that they didn't care about anyone else's broke my heart.
As I arrived at this "holy realization" I was simultaneously stepping over the third homeless person I had passed that night.
No eye contact, no nod, no smile, no help. They might as well have not been there at all.
And I realized that I didn't care about them really either, nor any other person I had passed and judged. Sure I tried smiling, but I cared little for their life, their pain, their hopes, their eternity. I didn't care about them, I cared only about whether or not they cared about me.

And I was disappointed.

I don't know.

Maybe its something they're putting in the water...