Deconstruction of the American Dream (But that doesn't make me some kind of socialist)

I don't know if its something they fed us as babies, or if it was subliminal messages on the television while we watched Fraggle Rock, but somehow we have grown up desiring the American Dream.

Ah the American Dream, the name we have assigned to our endless desire for that one thing more that will bring contentment... that one last thing that will bring us endless joy.

I thought I was immune to it, just like we all did. We realized its emptiness, and mocked its ability to control those around us. But not us... it wouldn't get us!

Until the day we find we're the crazy ones, holding a strainer under a running sink wondering why it never fills.

Oh to have all the things we have been told we need to be content and complete. Wealth, a good job, a loving spouse, obedient and beautiful kids... Or that one more thing to fill the void we can't name and fear to speak of.

I can't tell who told me about this dream, or who put it in my mind that I need these things. All the same there is this drive in me, this force that tells me I need them and mourns that each of them escapes my grasp.

I'm left with two options, either I am not a good American or the American Dream is not the thing that will complete me.

I risk being preachy by what I am going to say next, but it needs to be said all the same:

None of these things are ever going to make us complete. It is human nature that none of it will ever be enough. We are gluttons who are never full! We always want more. Happiness is always over the next hill, and we seek it out relentlessly. We're fooling ourselves.

I do not have the American Dream, and its not really in my grasp. I thank God for that. Its not a coping mechanism, but a firm grasp on reality, that leads me to say that I don't need any of those things to feel complete.

If I never get married. If I never have a job that provides retirement, insurance, paid vacations, and a cool title that will impress people. If I never have children. If I never have a nice house. If I never have enough money to buy a big screen TV to see Die Hard in all its seventy inch glory... All the same:
Christ has looked on me and seen my sin, seen my shame, seen my hopelessness and through humiliation, suffering, and death, has carved the only way to end my pain and bring me to eternal hope. I am a son of God, born not from flesh and blood but singularly from His will. I am a sinner who has been saved by grace and it counted righteous because Christ has made satisfaction for me, taking the death I deserved that I might share in His glory. I have been crucified with Christ and resurrected into a living hope. No matter what happen in this life that can never be taken away from me. What is left for me to dream for that is greater than that?

What need is there that the Lord cannot provide for a hundred times over? Nothing. So even if it makes me a bad American I have stopped going after the American dream, do my best (by His grace) to seek first His kingdom and His righteousness.

Amen.

None of this is to say that jobs or relationships, or material possessions are bad or not worth taking a part in. They cannot be an end unto themselves. These blessings God gives to us should point us towards Him, not to our own indulgences and self gratification.
God help us all... and He who is faithful, surely will complete the work He has begun in us.

old poems that were songs when I screamed in a hardcore band

Once upon a time Tyler was in a hardcore band. That's right, a hardcore band: where the guitars where tuned to drop B, the drummer constantly was breaking cymbals and the singers screamed every lyric. I was the guy who screamed. I thought this was a good time to look at old lyrics to see where I was to reflect better on where I am and where I hope to go as I live out my life.
"Holy Covenant"
Bury-the ashes of fallen dreams
release-our hopes for greatness
surrender-our pride our everything
to find something better than we could ever attain-on our own

we're expecting pain and suffering
anticipating the loss of everything

knowing the hurt
knowing the pain
we enter into this covenant

never give in, never live in surrender

stubborn until death, this will be our cry:

never give in, never live in surrender

"Cry of Resistance"

bite the hand that feeds me/when that hand tries to poison me/i will not be brainwashed/i will not be controlled/i will not be told how to think/i'll hear all sides/find the truth/not your convenient ideal/bite the hand that feeds me/when that hand tries to poison me

"Untitled"*
You're my all/you're everything to me/you're all that I am/everything I want to be/this fire inside me/forever let it burn/oh God keep this passion in my heart/oh God like the fire make me like you/i want nothing more than to follow you all of my days/so God I pray/take me and break me and make me more like you/come trials or persecution my strength is in you/i'll never turn/i'll never regret my sacrifice/its all about you


None of these are particularly good. But I think they are interesting to look at and reflect on. I like seeing where I was, so I can learn from the past and grow. Maybe I can hold onto those strong points, and progress in the weak ones. That's the dream** anyways.

*I actually wrote this when I was like 15 or 16 but we tried making it into a song so I thought it'd be fun to look at again after so long.
**not the American Dream, that I plan on discussing later

Fear

Sharks scare me so bad my bone marrow freezes, my spine locks and vertebrae fuse together.

I am not trying to be cute when I admit that my friends and I recently took the time to watch Sharkweek one evening. I decided to face my fear, look into the eyes of evil, and stand anew, a warrior who has conquered the monster of fear.

I had nightmares.

The whole night's sleep was draped in visions of sharks swarming, chasing, and feasting.

I faced my fear but my fear remained resolute still.

God willing I will never see a shark in the flesh, apart from when he and I are separated by thick enough glass that all the desire and hunger in the world will not be enough for him to be able to break it. The fear remains and keeps me from waters and from watching Sharkweeks.

Sharks, you do not frighten me so much because in the darkness of my room you cannot harm me. You remain in your world and I in mine.

As I lay safe and sound from all the evils of the world of sharks there is another fear that lurks in my heart, that attacks me only when I'm alone. Only when I feel the most safe.

This fear, I would gladly exchange all the sharks in the world for this darkness.

It is the voice late at night.

The voice that challenges everything I am.

The voice that examines and criticizes and calls every imperfection to mind.

Every imperfection so I can think on them over, and over, and over again.

And that voice, when all other voices have been silences, whispers to me the thought.

The thought that makes me long for the company of Jaws himself to distract from the hurt.

The thought is this: what if all that I was ever good at was lying?

Have I fabricated fictions to perpetuate personas that create a caricature that would be me.

What if the only thing I was good at was pretending to be something, anything other than what I value most: Honest.

It seems foolish to escape swimming with sharks only to lay in the grass with snakes.

God help me!

Silent and Stupid (when the wordsmith runs dry)

can we speak frankly?
Honestly?
Openly?

Words mount from floor to ceiling
Words to rest on rose pedals
Words to trip upon
Words to give wings to ideas
And words like led to bring them down
Words to create emotions
Emotions that I'm not feeling
but in guilt I am creating

'Cause that's what good alter boys do!

Let the clock strike
Let the drought end!
and bring me back what I once had

Magic words? a lamp to rub?

What brings you out to set me free?

I've said rhymes and clever verses.
I've said every trite and overused phrase...
bathed myself in predictable cliches

I don't know whats gonna make this end. If I say the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again!

what if i SCREAM! will you hear me?

What do I have to say?

Let me be stupid and speechless
Please don't make me say anything at all
Let me feel your arms around me
and whisper "son soon we'll go home"
Then stand me up steady and upright
your hand on my neck as we go
a warm palm always there to remind me
that I will never be alone

You bring the words that speak comfort
you're rain on the desert sand
so let me be silent and stupid
And soak up your words again

The Vision

I dreamed of a future that is not as distant as some would hope. There are those who will say I am a lunatic, but history will vindicate me! My dream has told me that we, modern man is spiraling into yet another world war, World War Three.

I stand, poised, feet shoulder width apart. There's blood dripping from my right hand, I'm not sure why. Is it mine? Is it his? I settle in my mind not to know. Nothing can be done about it now. There's a job to finish. I'm a soldier, this is what I'm made for. My pistol is pointed toward the ground, not the ground, the man lying on the ground. Kyhl, the man I once called brother. Now fate has made us enemies. I pull back the hammer, the bullet slides into place. Kyhl stairs down the barrel, his eyes nearly cross. He breaths out a last desperate plea, "Tyler... brother." I respond in a all too guttural, awesome sounding tough guy voice: "Once." A single tear falls lose from the corner of his eye, the man who never cries! The salt water creates a stream of white, washing away days of dirt and blood that were covering his face. "All of this... death... and for what? Its liked I don't even know you anymore! Its like we speak... but we don't make a sound." My finger moves on its own, the trigger pulls, the hammer falls, and the bullet explodes from the chamber. Kyhl falls limp, I turn my head, unable to watch as a man I once called brother finds his end.

"Can you hear me now?" I retort with a dry cool wit reserves for action heroes of the highest caliber (a'la Bruce Willis in Die Hard). Smokes rises from the chamber. I remain still, tall and proud. The full moon's glow reveals me in full uniform, black with red camouflage, certainly its not practical but it looks freakin' sweet. A "V" on the left side of my chest, its my emblem, the symbol of my devotion: Verizon Wireless. She is my mother, and I am her son, her administrator of justice. I am a soldier in the greatest war known to man, World War Three: Battle of the Cell Phone Providers.

I awake in a cold sweat, both impressed with how cool I looked as a soldier of the VMF (Verizon Military Force) and distraught to have seen myself kill a man who has been such a close friend to me. Worse still is the sinking feeling that I have looked at an image that was not intended for me, as though I were given access to secret information. I saw what will be: the terrible, Terminator-esque destruction of WWIII: BotCPP. Our only hope is that this blog would shed light on the danger we march towards, in hopes of creating a more tolerant world before its too late.

I used to hate cell phones. I hated the idea that someone should be able to get a hold of me at all times, there was no more privacy. Among all of my friends I was the last to get one, which seemed like a cool social stand for me to take but a pain for all of my friends from whom I was constantly borrowing phones. Then one day I gave in and got a cell phone and plummeted into the dark world of total dependency on that stupid little box. It has become a part of my life to where sometimes I feel completely disconnected if I don't have it; "who is calling me?" I wonder. Generally no one. Life goes on...

Along with having a cell phone is being aware of plans and limitations, I can text this often to a person with this other provider, and text all I want to anyone with Verizon, I can talk all I want to anyone on Verizon but can only talk for free on nights and weekends to So and So or Such and Such because they are on T-Mobile... etc. etc. Forget even trying to figure out different time zones or holidays. I don't know about you but I'm generally too lazy to keep track of how many texts I've sent, much less trying to keep track of my minutes used during the day. Its all too much. Laziness led to me deciding that my closest friends (if they wanted to talk to me) must be Verizon subscribers, otherwise they were just too much trouble. And there began my intolerance of other cell phone companies.

I know I'm not alone. We have all gone through the bigotry of disliking someone because of their cell phone provider I hate calling Ryan, he never has service here! I always joked that my number one standard for a girl was not her smile or any other thing guys often say, first and foremost she has to have Verizon. Otherwise its just too much trouble.

There was a girl I was interested in and we would text often. But she was from some other provider. She was not my people. I lived in panic with every text, conflicted by a desire to respond and fear of the tole it would take on my bank account. I was happy she wanted to text me and terrified of what my next statement would look like. I considered cutting her off, abandoning texting or calling her and turning instead to my own kind. I was troubled.

I realized this is exactly what the companies want, they want us divided and hating each other. They want to pull us apart and segregate us. It begins with dismissing a person now because of their cell phone provider. But the lines we draw in the sand may never be erased and before we know it our world is divided and war is commonplace: mother against daughter, brother against sister, friend against friend! We must practice tolerance before this dream becomes a reality. We must accept one another, no matter the service we choose, otherwise the big corporations win. And that's not what anyone wants... well... maybe the big corporations, but that's not the point.

a question in priorities (regarding Twilight, Harry Potter, and other such things that scare evangelicals)

I work in a warehouse, a warehouse that distributes Christian books. Which guarantees two things: I have read the description on the back of "The Five Love Languages" book over 6,000 times (not to mention Five Love Languages: For Singles, Five Love Languages: For Teens, Five Love Languages: for Children, Five Love Languages: Men's Edition, The Heart of the Five Love Languages, The Five Love Languages of Apology, The Love Languages of God... you get the idea...) and I get to listen to Christian radio for over twenty hours a week. I haven't listened to Christian radio since the good old days of Britney Spears asking to "give me a sign (hit me baby one more time)" so I'm experiencing a little bit of culture shock. Mostly I get a hearty helping of Christian pop standards, and different renditions of what it would sound like if Pearl Jam converted (admit it... contemporary Christian music owes more to Eddie Veddar than anyone else, if you don't agree you're in denial. This isn't a bad thing, its just a fact. Modern Christian artists love Eddie Vedder and his sweet, deep vabrato.) Sometimes I get to listen to a little bit of Christians Christianizing talk radio. Often they talk about the marriage between culture and Christianity. And nothing is more prominent right now in American pop culture than the literary and cinematic sensation Twilight.

Apparently this radio station does a Friday morning segment on Christianity and film where they discuss how Christians can successfully interact (I use the term loosely) with popular films. While I was nearly herniating picking up a large box of Bible Commentaries and loading them onto the truck I affectionately call the Batmobile I overheard them discussing Twilight. The cinema and faith expert seemed entirely confused on how to address the movie. He stuttered like he didn't even want to talk about it, but since it had already sold out in pre-release in nearly ever theatre in the country he had to discuss it. He first went over Bolt and said how it was amazing and every family should watch it because its family friendly and cute and such and such and blah blah blah. Its a kids movie, there was nothing offensive in it, go see it, was the message I got. Then he got to Twilight, a film not about a talking dog but about a vampire (dun, dun, dun!). The undead creatures of the night who feast on humanity (although from what I understand vampires in this movie, by and large neither feast on humanity nor are night creatures but just sparkle in the day). None the less these are evil creatures.

The man could not in good conscience recommend the movie because it was about vampires. He asked: can Christians support a movie that has good vampires, likable vampires, heroic vampires? Just like Harry Potter who makes witchcraft look AWESOME, Twilight romanticizes the life of the undead. This is a bad thing. We can only conclude that Twilight should be avoided by Christians. Why? Because of vampires. Vampires are evil. Vampires are the undead. So don't be entertained by them. No one mentions the fact that vampires are fiction. But that doesn't enter in. "Don't see Twilight because there are vampires." I'm not really surprised by this, evangelicals protested Harry Potter with more passion then they often worship! The problem is, we're critiquing films on the wrong basis. Disregarding (much less protesting) a film because of witches, wizards, vampires or werewolves is not the right way to go about it.

We act like by watching these movies we are going to want to be a wizard or vampire, as if once I see Harry Potter slap a pig's tale on his cousin I'm gonna renounce my faith, buy a magic wand, and give my jerk cousin an extra piggy appendage. No one was concerned at the release of Lion King that I would start believing animals could talk and convert to animism. Because that would be STUPID! And I am sure that if I really thought I would be like Harry Potter my loving parents would buy me a wand and protective helmet to match.

At the risk of appearing condescending let me explain that these movies are not endorsing wizardry or blood sucking any more than Wizard of Oz supports brainless Scarecrows having political careers. The point, what we learn when we read or watch these things, lives below the surface. Wizards and vampires (and scarecrows... oh my!) are the body of the story, they provide the excuse to tell the story, they aren't the point of the story. Therefore they aren't a great evil to be avoided because they don't really matter all that much. They are the conduit to project values and principles. Its a tool. You can't say "I'm gonna tell a story about gaining self confidence and realizing one's potential" because that's stupid and no one is going to read that book because people want an interesting story line to help them digest the delicious values. But if you say "I'm gonna write a book about a kid who becomes a wizard and fights a guy with no nose" then sign me up! We use these clever story lines to teach, examine, etc. Not to recruit supernatural beings.

At the risk of being even more condescending let me ask this question: Who cares? So what if a kid thinks it'd be awesome to go to Hogwarts (funny how that name isn't flagged by spellcheck anymore... congrats Harry Potter mythology) or to be able to read minds and live off of the blood of animals. ITS FICTION!!! After watching Star Wars I sat for hours trying to use the force to move crap... it didn't work. I was sad. I learned a hard lesson. My parents thought it was funny. Good times for everyone.

So what should Christians be asking about these movies? What we need to be asking is what are these movies teaching us? Twilight is not teaching youngsters that vampiring is awesome. It was not written as a recruiting manual for the undead. The movies are teaching us something however, (whether on purpose or not, we are learning). What are these movies teaching us about love? Relationships? Family? Sex? Masculinity? Femininity? Truth? Life? Death? Sacrifice? Loyalty? You get the idea. These movies can also be indicative of where our culture is at (youth pastors listen up! you can learn a lot by paying attention to what kids are into and what it says about them). For example, what does Twilight say about what girls find attractive in guys and how does that effect both sexes when it goes to relationships and expectations? We need to move past the surface and consider what movies are teaching us beneath. When that happens perhaps we will be able to actually engage the culture in a constructive manner.

The Performance of a Lifetime (Lepers not welcome!)

wash down some Dramamine
with six shots of caffeine
don't i look pristine
doesn't my skin glow?

veneered and smiling
a wit that beguiling
countless lies are compiling
no one will know

"Come join us" they whisper
"there's a part you can play:
'the content little preacher
with nothing to say.'"

Be beautiful
appealing
aesthetically pleasing.
Be loved
or be cherished.
Be nothing at all.

My words can be Prozac
mounting Hell onto man's back
kill the mood with a voice crack
my true feelings would show

life just like fame
gone as quick as it came
better my words than my name
be remembered after i go

I like being ugly
and I'm proud to be crass
i'm the leprous warrior
battling the snake in the grass