Avaricious Desires

He sits in the park eating an ice cream cone. 

A large one.

Nine years of age, with not a care in the world, save one.

Three scoops or more, in a waffle cone.

Not nearly enough. 

As sugar and cream descend down his hands, not yet a man's.

A truck, all gay with lights, and frozen sights, sits at the curb.

A woman attends to the treats.

He stares, wanting more than he could possibly eat, as his cone topples into the street.

A large one.

So she gives him a wink, then hands him a treat, as she pulls away.

But the ice cream lies in the street.

Open Handed, Love Undone

Open handed, love undone Holds us here, before the sun Freely captured, freely freed Commiserate, laugh, cry for need

Open handed, love undone
Lost and found, they came as one
A thing was had, then set aside
Twirl twist and spin, dance and abide

Open handed, love undone
Reconnect, outrun
Known and being known because
Open handed, love becomes

A 12th Street Christmas

Tina stood near the corner of Broadway and 12th, but not on the corner. She was not allowed to stand on the corner. She had to stand a ways back, an indeterminate but precise distance from where the others worked. If she did not… well, she hated to think about it.

Her phone rang, and the beautiful picture of her baby boy appeared on the screen, he would be six in three weeks. “Hey baby!” she said, a huge smile filling up the space between them, “are you ready for bed?” 

“Yes mommy! We played boats in the bathtub. There was a storm!” 

“Oh there certainly was," deadpanned his aunt Alex, who was not his aunt—more of a second mother really. 

“Jack Alexander Dobson,” his mother chided, “you better have helped your aunt clean that up!”  

“I did mommy.”

A heavyset man, the lines in his face showing his age, pulled up to the curb in an midsize SUV. “Hey honey, what you got under there?”

Tina ignored him. “Look baby, I have to go, mommy has to get to work now, ok. I love you!”

“I love you too mommy!” The screen went blank.

“I don’t have all day. You selling or not?”

“I’m selling. The question is are you paying?” She eyeballed the Cadillac SUV warily, a dent in the door indicating its age.

In response he flashed a wad of bills that likely contained less money than it appeared.

“One block down. Take a right. Room 243.”

Kevin looked over his left shoulder, and then pulled away from the curb faster than necessary. 

It had been a stress-filled week at his job as executive director of the town’s small symphony, a job that did not pay nearly enough in his opinion. With a series of Christmas concerts starting next week, he had had no choice but to stay at the office until almost seven every night this week, which was not normal—except during the holidays. He had come to loathe the Christmas season, which was only made worse by the charade he had to put on each year, as he masked his real feelings and smiled at the patrons as they entered the concert hall.

He hoped she wasn’t a talker, he didn’t have time for that. What Kevin did not know was that the feeling was mutual. If they could have exchanged no words at all, they both would have been happier, but they didn’t know that, so they would exchange the usual pleasantries, pretending they were friendly acquaintances.

This isn't therapy, was always Tina's outlook, at least not in the traditional sense, and she preferred to leave the talking to a minimum. Most John's didn't realize this, and because they were desperate for more than just sex, they often talked too much. Some cried.

Kevin pulled into the parking lot of the cheap hotel that tried to pass itself off as upscale and shrugged his shoulders. Eh, good enough he thought. There probably weren’t any bed bugs. A pang of guilt briefly crossed Kevin’s mind, but he stuffed it. He still loved his wife, the problem was she didn’t love herself. In fact, she had grown to hate them both.

At Tina and Alex’s small one-bedroom apartment, Jack was just falling asleep. Alex looked on, her heart filled with love. A small Christmas tree stood on a table in the corner, its white lights serving as a night light. Three small presents, poorly wrapped, one in brown paper, had been gently placed under the tree. She was glad they had found the used mattress that now lay directly on the floor in the corner of the living room. The foam pad would not have lasted much longer.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door, that caused Alex to jump with a start. “Alex! Tina! I know one of you is in there! You can’t both be working, not with that boy of yours. Rent was due two weeks ago! Let’s go. Open the door!” He pounded on it several more times, raising Alex's heart rate with each strike of his fist.

She sat motionless, frozen in fear on the worn brown leather sofa that had no support, praying that Jack would not wake up, but he did, blowing her cover. She knew she didn’t have to pay the rent with money, but she couldn't pay now, not with little Jack in the corner. And that was a dangerous road to start down. Her day shift with the anonymous Johns was one thing. Someone you saw on a regular basis, who had a key to your home was a whole different matter. She didn’t speak, as the dread continued.

“You have till December 25th, bitch. Otherwise, you’re out! And I am not going to waste time with eviction proceedings.” Jack's whimpering cry from the corner must have given him pause she thought. She heard his heavy boots move on, his footsteps echoing off the thin bare walls, and she breathed a sigh of relief. They would probably have the money by Christmas, she thought, but she said a prayer just in case.

On the other side of town, Kevin pulled into his three-car attached garage, the garage door opening automatically as he arrived. He got out of the Cadillac, slammed the door, and walked to the end of the drive to pick up the mail, though he didn’t know why. There would be nothing but credit card bills, and collection notices he knew, and advertisements for more things. He entered the house through the side door leading from the garage into the mudroom which opened onto their kitchen with the fake marble countertops. A darkened house greeted him. It really wasn’t a home anymore. And while it seemed that no one was present, he knew his wife was inevitably passed out upstairs in the master bedroom. He poured himself a finger of whisky and walked into the living room. Sitting down, he sank into what had once been an expensive leather couch, now worn with time, and kicked off his shoes. A large vaulted ceiling rose above him, while the blank screen of an ultra 4K television reflected his exhaustion, the latest addition to the Visa bill.

Kevin lay down on the couch with his head at one end looking up toward the wall, but sleep didn't come.  He got up, turned off the lights on the large Christmas tree, and lay back down. In past years it had once been surrounded by dozens of Christmas presents, but not anymore. A family portrait that he hadn't thought about in a long time looked down. It showed the family gathered around the Christmas tree, with many brightly wrapped boxes all around them. He wondered how much they spent on Christmas that year? It dawned on him that the photo must have been taken several years ago, just before Nate died.

Sleep still didn’t come, the picture staring a hole in his mind. It was just too much he thought. With a huff, he got up, took it down, and walked purposefully to the garage. The glass shattered as he threw it into the metal trash can.

In a much different neighborhood, Alex suddenly awoke with a start.

“It’s just me,” whispered Tina.

“Oh, I guess I fell asleep here on the couch.” She was still sitting in an upright position. A crucifix hung on the wall behind her, while a large television that was at least a dozen years old occupied the wall directly in front of her. She could see her reflection in the blank screen, and she looked more gaunt than usual. She would have to stop by St. Mark’s food shelf tomorrow she thought.

“You must be exhausted,” said Tina. They smiled at each other with that knowing look that two people share when they have been together a long time. "You would not believe the tip I got tonight" she said, "and it wasn't from a client. I'll tell you about it in the morning."

They made their way to the bedroom, where they shared a bed due to space and undressed. Lying down, they shared a brief touch in the darkness as sleep slowly enveloped them.

Faith Reconsidered

"Do you think you will go to the Christmas Eve service, or just pick up the stuff" read my mother's text.

"Pick up" I replied.

I had left some stuff at my mother's house the night before, and now needed to pick it up before returning to the Twin Cities, and meeting her at the Christmas Eve services was most convenient. But that was beside the point. I didn't want to go to church. Fortunately I had an excuse, other family engagements, but the thought of going to church was not attractive to me.

And that of course leads to the inevitable "why?" Why didn't I want to spend time gathered with others reflecting on the meaning of Christmas?

That I didn't know the people at my parent's church was part of it. Style was another. But the real reasons were deeper.

In past iterations of my faith, there would have been questions about commitment, sin, and things like that. Those questions still linger, but I am increasingly coming to own my identity in these in between spaces.

It is a strange thing to both deeply believe and deeply doubt. Again, in past iterations of my faith these things would have been cause for existential angst. They aren't now.

I am keenly aware of arguments for the existence of God that suggest she resides solely in the grey matter of our minds, filling up the spaces of the things we can't explain, and providing a variety of evolutionary advantages. For example, a commitment to something greater than ourselves which leads to altruistic activities that further the species at the expense of ourselves. Or the common notion that all paths lead to heaven; that there is one life source (or many) known by many different names in the various cultural contexts we humans share. (In particular, I appreciate the more nuanced versions of this thought, less focused on heaven and more focused on the nature of God.) I appreciate the internal logic of these arguments, and am aware of the conservative Christian arguments against them, which likely have corollaries in other religions. I agree with some of these traditional arguments.

What is changing now, is my willingness to side-step questions that allegedly demand an answer, and instead focus on being present, being a better person, and inviting Jesus Christ and those around me to be a part of that process.

I use the name Jesus Christ intentionally because I still believe. I was raised as a fundamentalist evangelical, and later attended the inter-denominational, but still evangelical, Fuller Theological Seminary, known for being too liberal for fundamentalists and too conservative for liberals. That was a needed and rewarding experience. Grappling with the nature of scripture and theology, who wrote the scriptures and how, and just as importantly, how the present versions of our Bible got to us. That experience cracked an iron curtain that was largely unwilling to dialogue with people and writings of other perspectives, other than to debunk them. Fuller didn't take that approach, and for that I am thankful.

For reasons both consistent and inconsistent with the Christian faith, I don't feel the need to convince people to become a Christian in the overt manner that I did as an extremely conservative Christian. I think there is a time and place for considering the why and the how of things, but it isn't my job to convince anyone of anything.

And I don't feel the need to gather on Christmas Eve, just because everyone else is doing it. I do think that gathering on Christmas Eve for any number of other reasons is a good idea. There have been years where that was exactly what I needed. For  many, it is one of the most meaningful parts of their holiday traditions, a quiet respite from an otherwise chaotic season. It's just that I would rather stand under the stars in the falling snow, with silence as my companion.

I may have my father to thank for this independence. When I was born, we didn't go to the kind of church other people went to, and we didn't have a pagan Christmas tree, just because others did. My father is not easily swayed by anything, least of all popular opinion. I respect that about him. Sure it can be maddening on some topics, but on balance it is a good thing.

He is also able to change his mind. 

Today, my father and I have Christmas trees in our front rooms. We both attend churches as normal and vanilla as can be. But thanks in part to my father, I question things, including my Christian faith. This in turn I think, does not diminish a divine connection, it enhances it, drawing me closer to our Creator, and the imago dei that we all share.

It is in that closeness, where it seems like heaven meets earth, in temples and on quiet snowy nights, that sometimes we change our mind. Sometimes for the better. 

Brief analysis of appellate court voting opinions

Here is one lawyer's take on what you are seeing out of the appellate courts in regards to ballet counting.* I think you will find this even-handed, but feel free to critique or set me straight on what the law says. (For the full argument you need to read the full post.)

As far as I can tell, the courts are consistently requiring states to follow state statute, (passed by both houses of a state's congress, and signed by the governor) and are not allowing state administrators or anyone else to make one-time changes based on Covid-19 or any other reason. That seems fair on its face.

They have also previously indicated that they are looking to enforce the status quo, and not allow last minute changes, which they have previously done in prior court cases as well. One can reasonably object that the court's intervention at the last minute is itself a late intervention, and I think that criticism has traction, but they would say they are putting the ball back on the line of scrimmage, after it was moved without permission.

These observations may also explain why we are likely to see different rules in different states. The courts are generally holding each state accountable to their own state statutes, and those statutes vary by state. This may result in a requirement that ballots be received by election day in one state, but merely postmarked by election day in another state.

Rather than looking at these rulings as benefiting Republicans or Democrats, or being handed down by judges appointed by Republicans or Democrats, (though it is hard not to notice the consistency of the prejudice by judges on both sides) we should look at the what state statutes, state constitutions, and the Constitution of the United States say.

On their face, most of the court's rulings appear to be largely fair, and simply an enforcement of each state's neutral election laws.

Here is why they are wrong.

In the context of a global pandemic, strictly enforcing state laws infringes on the right to vote. (The same could be true in the future, due to some other outside disruption, like a terrorist attack on the day of the election, especially one targeted at polling sites.)

This right was most clearly articulated by Chief Justice Earl Warren in Reynolds v. Sims 377 U.S. 533, 555 (1964), when he said, “The right to vote freely for the candidate of one’s choice is of the essence of a democratic society, and any restrictions on that right strike at the heart of representative government. [...] Undoubtedly, the right of suffrage is a fundamental matter in a free and democratic society."

The state statutes do this, without intent, because they fail to protect all citizen's right to vote in the context of a pandemic.

In addition, the impact of Covid-19 has a disproportionate impact on protected groups. Therefore in application, the law unintentionally violates these citizens right to vote in particular. This violates the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment.

While the right to vote was not originally granted to citizens by the U.S. Constitution, the 26th Amendment extended the obvious, but as yet unwritten right to vote to all people over the age of 18. (Unwritten in the US Constitution.)

It would be a strange thing indeed then to say that the Constitution does not grant a right, which the 26th amendment grants to all adults, by prohibiting discrimination on the basis of age.

In fact, four of the fifteen post-Civil War constitutional amendments were ratified to extend voting rights to different groups of citizens. These extensions state that voting rights cannot be denied or abridged based on the following:

"Race, color, or previous condition of servitude" (Fifteenth Amendment, 1870)

"On account of sex" (Nineteenth Amendment, 1920)

"By reason of failure to pay any poll tax or other tax" for federal elections (Twenty-fourth Amendment, 1964)

"Who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote, shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of age" (Twenty-sixth Amendment, 1971)

(Hat-tip to Wikipedia for that last little bit)

Note that those who regularly make use of arguments based on what the text says, or what its original meaning was, rarely want to take a close look at the original intent of the various amendments. (Conservatives are especially allergic to the 14th Amendment's equal protection clause.) In the next few days you are likely to hear some talking heads state that the Constitution does not give anyone the right to vote. It does.

State law as recently applied by the courts, violates the equal protection clause of the Constitution, because even though they are written and intended to be neutral laws, as applied in our current context, the laws have a disproportionate impact on a number of protected groups, including women and people of color.

In other legal contexts, we have precedence for how to deal with instances where a law that was intended to be neutral, nonetheless has a disproportionate impact on one group or another. Some of these examples have to do with religious freedom. So it is strange fruit indeed, when one finds that a certain way of reading the law is employed one way in one instance, (to protect religious freedom) but is then entirely discarded later on, leaving the right to vote for so many, dangling from a tree. *I do not practice voting rights law, or constitutional law. Outside of law school, I have not studied these matters in-depth. Just as you should question doctors whose views seem questionable, so too should you question any given lawyer's views. A law degree does not make one smart or wise. To the contrary, many of us are dumb. : )

Appropriate

fuck appropriate
appropriate is for niceties
but no niceties are here

here in this place
a place broken and hurting
hurt people hurting others
 
others striving ceaselessly
ceaseless in their efforts for more
more money more broken more power
 
power to kill and destroy
destroyed, they destroy others
because these others failed to be appropriate
 
but the other appropriately turns to honesty
honesty and truth
truth like it is with and without blemishes
 
blemishes inevitably leading toward replenishment
the replenished now seeking to heal
healing and giving life
 
life more abundant than ever before
before time. runs. out.
fuck