Tag Archives: Fear

Guns

gunsI am from Western Colorado-outdoor sportsman central.  Hunting big game, small game, ducks and geese, most any things that moves was a way of life.  I grew up around guns as my father hunted and fished.  I hunted as well, but fishing never appealed to me-too boring. 

I was always fascinated by guns.  I liked the mechanical precision, the looks, the way they felt in my hands.  There was, of course, another set of reasons for my fascination.

Guns are for killing.  When hunting, I was repelled and attracted to the act of killing. I would walk along hunting rabbits thinking “Why am I here, I don’t like the killing?”.  As soon as a rabbit jumped, the gun came up and I was shooting.  More than once I have sold all my guns, swearing off them, only to find myself in a gun shop. 

In Army basic training I became welded to the famous old M1 Garand rifle.  I still like the damn things, although I haven’t bought one as a civilian.  In Germany I got an M14, much like the M1, but holding 20 rounds instead of eight.   

.50 Caliber Machine Gun

.50 Caliber Machine Gun

When I got promoted I was given the responsibility for a .50 caliber Browning machine gun.  Completely assembled it weighs about 120 pounds and fires a cartridge about six inches long, with a bullet half an inch in diameter.  We went to Wildflecken, Germany, the traditional invasion route for eastern invaders, to shoot the thing across a canyon.  It sure was fun.  It sure did give me a significant hearing loss. 

The real reason for my fascination with guns, however, is fear.  I have been afraid for my safety for as long as I can remember.  The cause?  Probably some abuse I experienced at a young age.  I remember making a tent out of a card table and blankets in the living room when I was home alone.  I would get under there with my .22 rifle and dream about driving the invaders away.     

The gun magazines used to be mostly about hunting arms, now they are filled with articles about protecting your home from hostile invaders.  That is right down my alley, even though I live in a safe neighborhood and have never experienced any need for protecting myself with a gun for 73 years.  This is a big cognitive disconnect in my life.  I think the strategy is to not read that stuff.

To deal with my fear I am now using a mindful meditation technique.  I meditate watching my breath.  When any fear-related thoughts arise, I notice them, name them “fear, fear”, and watch them fade.  I also have the fear thoughts arise at other times, as when driving.  I say a short prayer, sometimes several times, until the fear thought fades.  I do this many times during the day.  It works. The thoughts leave, and they are not recurring with the same frequency.  I feel better, and have more energy for useful things.  I am not doing this to seek enlightenment, I am doing it to rid myself of wasteful thinking so I can focus on the good.

Rattlesnake Canyon

Dramatic

Dramatic

Rattlesnake Canyon is near Fruita, Colorado, where I grew up.  My friends and I  ran all over the hills north and west of the Colorado National Monument, but I had never been to

Rattlesnake Canyon.  It is a bit too far for kids on foot.  We got into the canyons just east of the canyon, now part of the Black Ridge Wilderness, but I did not know about the arches in Rattlesnake Canyon.

Close to town, the canyon is a bit tough to get to.  The Pollock Canyon trailhead near the river means an overnight backpack to do justice to the country.  The other route follows Black Ridge west from the Glade Park Store, and is for 4×4 vehicles or Subarus you are willing to bash around.  From the trailhead it is about four miles on the trail if you take the shortcut.

I have rambled around the Colorado Plateau off and on all my life.  From the Grand Canyon to Dinosaur and from the Grand Hogback to the Wasatch, the plateau offers some

Rattlesnake Canyon

Rattlesnake Canyon

of the most magnificent country anywhere.  Rattlesnake Canyon is up there with the best.  Arches has more arches, and there are bigger canyons (not that many), but Rattlesnake has it all.  The real bonuses are that it is close and not cluttered up with people.  With the exception of Grand Canyon, most anywhere else offered some solitude at one ime.  No longer.  Thirty miles from Grand Junction, with a competent high clearance vehicle you can be in wilderness in view of Fruita.

Ah, the sense of space.  I live in the city and it is impossible to have a sense of space, even with Mt. Evans looking down at you.  From those canyon rims the expanse opens my mind.  Grand Mesa, the Bookcliffs, and the Roan Cliffs rim the Grand Valley, quite a scene by itself.

The canyon walls are Wingate sandstone capped by harder Kayenta sandstone.  That cap rock forms a bench with the Entrada sandstone (slickrock) set back from the rim.  Rim Rock Drive in the Monument is mostly on that bench, and the trail to Rattlesnake drops down on the bench and curves around the canyon rim to the arches.  The arches are in the slickrock, ancient sand dunes turned to stone.  It is easy to see the rounded dunes in the rock.  Erosion works its way into the cliffs following the curve of the dunes, forming alcoves.  As the alcoves erode farther, sometimes the back of the alcove drops out, leaving an arch.  I saw six of them. Arches in Colorado, the second largest concentration in the country, maybe the world.

About that trail.  I got away from Denver at 6:00 AM, not my best time of day.  I filled my water bottle and left it on the kitchen counter.  I didn’t realize it until I was at the trailhead at about 1:30 PM.  I am also out of shape, my exercise restricted by a couple of broken ribs for five weeks.  Have I mentioned that I am 72 years old and impulsive?  I looked at the sign, 3 1/2 miles.  It was only 90 degrees or so, a piece of cake.

First Arch. Where I climbed up the rock through the arch.

First Arch. Where I climbed up the rock through the arch.

I covered about half of the trail when I realized I was getting a bit dry.  “Keep going, I can drink later”.  The arches were a progression along the bench and close to the trail.  With that row of arches on one side and that magnificent canyon with 400 foot sheer walls branching into side canyons on the other side, I was literally staggered by the beauty.   Well maybe the stagger was because I was tired and thirsty.  I caught up to a party of six people at the last arch, known as First Arch.  At First Arch was the sign saying End of Trail.  I didn’t know that, and by that time I was stopping to rest fairly often, so while resting I watched the party climb up the slickrock through the arch.  I knew the trailhead was only about 1/2 mile from the arch.  So, it was climb up the rock through that impressive arch or backtrack 3 1/2 miles.  I climbed.

I have done a lot of sandstone climbing, and used to be pretty good at it.  That was when I wasn’t 72, tired, getting sore, and thirsty.  I climbed anyway.  I would do about 20 feet, catch my breath, figure out my next moves, and climb again.  The proper way to climb that stuff is on your feet even if it is steep.  Feet have more traction than denim, and the work is easier than trying to slither up.  I slithered.  I was too weak to trust myself trying to walk up those steep slopes.

The rock has curves, little depressions, some tiny ridges, notches, and hollows to give one a way up.  I tried to pick the easiest route, but it was still pretty steep.  My knees paid the price, getting some good scrapes.  Up on the rim, that last half mile was tough.  It was uphill, but not too bad.  I stopped twice and flopped down in the shade for a few minutes while walking slowly back to the truck.

There was about 1/4 of a cup of coffee in the truck that sure tasted good.  I was lightheaded and pretty wobbly during the drive out.  I stopped at the Visitor Center in the Park and drank water for a while.  I got a motel room in Fruita about 6:00 PM, didn’t eat dinner, and drank water until lights out about 9:30.

Sunday morning I had breakfast, drank water, and took the scenic route back to Denver.  I drank water and went up Plateau Creek to Collbran, went over Grand Mesa to Paonia where I had lunch and drank water, then over McClure Pass to Glenwood and home on I-70.  I was fully rehydrated by Monday.

I didn't see a rattlesnake in Rattlesnake Canyon

I didn’t see a rattlesnake in Rattlesnake Canyon

After a few minor incidents in the backcountry over the years, I have developed several rules to follow when Out There.  Take water.  Take enough water for the other persons you come across who didn’t bring enough water.  Be in shape.  Research where you are going so you know what to expect.  Have a map. Carry the ten essentials in case you get into trouble.  Tell people where you are going.  You really should not go alone.  I broke every rule.

What the fuck is wrong with me?  I know.  I am an impulsive ADD.  When I got to the trailhead and saw I had no water I should have driven out.  But, I wouldn’t have this story to tell.  What I did do right was pace myself, not panic, and take my time getting out.  It is just that my brain didn’t kick in until three hours too late.

 

Motorcycles

Kawasaki KLR 650

Kawasaki KLR 650

I have owned and ridden three motorcycles.  I like motorcycles. They are as close to flying as one can get on land.  There are challenges, such as trying to stay upright on two wheels. I know people who have never been down on their bikes.  I once fell over right by the front door of the biggest motorcycle accessory shop in Denver.  It trapped my leg and some guy had to lift it off me.  I bet he is still telling that story.

I have crashed on city streets, on a paved canyon road (sand), in parking lots, and an uncountable number of times in the dirt.  Two of my motorcycles were what is now called dual sport; they are able to be used on the street and in the dirt.  They aren’t top notch in either role, but some riders do things most people can’t imagine.  80 mph on the highway, and some challenging back country roads and trails.  Lots of good dual sport roads in Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Wyoming, where I traveled.

One of the best grew up riding on the streets of Mexico City, where you have to be good to survive.  I could keep up with him on the highway because we had the same bikes.  In the dirt, he could go places with that fairly heavy thing that I didn’t even dream of.  He and quite a few others have done 50 mountain passes in Colorado in 50 hours.  I am good for about six in a day, and hurt for two days. He also did a lot of single track trails, something I never attempted.

I liked road trips with some gravel or dirt roads thrown in.  Forest Service roads were about as gnarly as I wanted. On the asphalt, it was curves in canyons.  Fortunately, Colorado’s Front Range has lots of canyons.  There was a geological event that bumped the long bench from Conifer to its Estes Park.  That bench was once at Denver’s elevation, but got pooched up to where it is now.  We call the road the Peak to Peak Highway.

Golden Gate Canyon

Golden Gate Canyon

Go up any of the canyons from Deer Creek to the Big Thompson, ride those fast sweeping curves a ways, then down another canyon.  My favorite was Golden Gate Canyon, where I tore my posterior cruciate ligament when I hit some sand on the road.

It’s the lean, folks.  Go around a curve on two wheels and you lean.  Go faster, lean more.  Go faster, and crash.  I went fairly slow for a motorcyclist.  I still got some lean, and was able to look at the geology.  A low side crash is when the bike slides out from under you and goes off the road ahead of you.

High Side Crash

High Side Crash

A high side crash is the bad one.  The front wheel starts to slide, then gets traction.  You are flipped off and into the air, while the bike bounces along behind until it lands on you.  Both are bad, but you really do not want to high side.  Some riders get flipped into the guardrail.  Ouch.

My knee wrecking crash was a low side.  My knee was bent, the tibia-fibula stopped on the pavement while the femur went a little farther.  It really hurt.  Hurt bad. I picked the bike up and rode on until I couldn’t stand the pain and called for help.

Aside from the crashes, I loved motorcycling.  Yes, it is dangerous.  Other drivers don’t see you and turn in front of you.  You crash all by yourself.  There is a famous twisty road in North Carolina where a biker went into the bushes. Just in front of him was another motorcycle with the remains of the rider.  He went into the bushes and nobody saw a thing.

Yamaha SR 400

Yamaha SR 400

I always wore all the protective gear.  Those Harley riders who won’t wear a helmet because their balls will protect them are nuts.  Mass delusion, those Harley people.

This spring I got the itch again.  Yamaha makes a single cylinder bike that looks a lot like the classic British thumpers from the 1950s.  It isn’t fast, but sure would be a good canyon bike.  Nah.  Too old and slow myself.  I guess I will stick to four wheeling.

 

Bears in Yellowstone

Scared Babies

Scared Babies

In the 1950’s there were lots of bears in Yellowstone National Park.  Despite warnings, people fed them, got out of their cars to photograph them, and listened to the campground garbage cans being raided.  I saw hundreds of bears in Yellowstone, but have seen only one in the wild elsewhere.

I was never in danger there, but did have a few experiences.  We traveled with a nineteen foot travel trailer, which made camping a lot easier.  On one trip we were in a campground near the Firehole River so my father could fly fish.  A sow and her two cubs had established residence close to all that food in the trash cans.  The Park Service decided it was dangerous to have them in the campground and decided to trap them.  The trap they used was mounted on a trailer.  It was made from a ten foot section of galvanized 48″ culvert, closed at one with a trap door at the other end.  They put bait up near the closed end with a trigger arrangement that closed the door when moved.

It worked.  It trapped mom, but the cubs were outside.  What a noise!  She sent the cubs up a tree and they cried.  Mom roared.  I don’t remember when she was trapped but it was still dark, and there was no more sleeping for anyone in the campground.  The Rangers showed up around 8:00 AM and stood around trying to decide what to do.  The usual procedure was to haul the bears to a remote area some distance from the capture point and release them there.

Bear in Trap

Bear in Trap

This would not work here, with two howling cubs up a tree.  Why hadn’t they thought of this beforehand?  Three bears making enough noise to be heard at Old Faithful and a couple dozen campers standing around watching the fun.  The Rangers thought about moving the trap across the creek and releasing her there.  Would she charge back on a rampage?  Would she stay there with two cubs across the creek afraid to come out of their tree?  Would she cross the creek, collect the kids send then go on a rampage?

The Rangers were reluctant to release her right there, afraid of a rampage.  Dilemma.  Lots of standing around and talking.  They finally chased all the campers away some distance away and let her loose.  She called the cubs out of the tree but they were reluctant and even noisier, then they came down, and all three left the campground in a hurry.  Everyone was relieved to not have a berserk bear in their midst.

1955 Nash

1955 Nash

On another trip my friend Mike was along.  There was a bear visiting the campground each night.  My parents were in the trailer, and Mike and I slept on the reclining seats in the 1955 Nash (shudder).  We decided to leave the windows down and shoot the bear with our slingshots when he came around.

We had a metal cooler with lunch food that we kept in the car when traveling.  It was on the ground outside the car with good smells coming from it.  We slept, than something woke me up.  I heard something outside and poked Mike to wake him up.  We loaded our slingshots and looked out.  A BEAR!  Just out the window.  A big bear!  Never have hand cranked windows gone up so fast.  No shooting bears that night.

The Dentist Part Two

 

Dentistry

Dentistry

I wrote in March about my dental phobia.  I home with a temporary crown.  The last three months has been a dental black hole.  I haven’t flossed, hardly brushed, and stuck with mouthwash.  My cleaning last month wasn’t too bad, but only because Barb, my hygienist, is the best.  I made an appointment for the crown after stalling for five months.

Thursday was the day and I have been something  of a mess for a week.  Worse, I was scheduled to have it done two weeks ago and came down with a bad cold and had to reschedule.  That prolonged my agony.  In defense of the dental office, everyone there is just great.  They are nice, competent, and do their best to make every visit as painless as possible.  I have been a patient there for over twenty years.

Steve Law is the dentist.  A Minnesota boy, he went to St. Olaf College in the same town as Carleton College, that Susan, my stepdaughter,attended.  He is a nice guy and a musician as well.  Today he had trouble getting the old crown off.   He drilled, pried, pulled, drilled, pried, and drilled some more.  After he got all the gear out of my mouth I asked him why he didn’t use Channel Lock pliers instead.  He said something about making it more comfortable.  I do not equate the dentist’s office with comfort, despite their apologetics.

The assistant was also good, and funny as well.  I just do not remember her name.  I should remember, she has worked there as long as my tenure as a patient.  I have a temporary crown she installed which will fall out before the next appointment.

I have lived with dental post-traumatic stress disorder for almost sixty years.  Carol is a therapist and has offered to help, but I just cannot face dealing with the anxiety of reliving dental agony.  At least the suffering is a good contrast with the good times I usually have.  How can we know the good without experiencing the bad?  Why does it have

Aggression and Fear

baby fearFear is part of life.  We are wired to react to threats in a number of ways.  Fight, flight, freeze, hide, cry for help.  In our society, there is little to fear.  In most of the country there is little violence.  Sometimes we experience a flash of fear in traffic, or when we slip on the ice.  For the most part, however, we are safe.

Why, then, to we have a culture of fear?  Gun and ammunition sales are booming, security system companies are busy, people are taking self-defense classes, and living with fear and anxiety on a daily basis.

Within our generally safe country there are acts of violence.  School shootings, workplace violence, robberies, gang shootings, random killings, on and on.  These acts, if horrific, are but a small part of life in a country of 314 million people.  They just do not affect most people.  The only time I have been truly terrified was when I was caught in a lightning storm when hiking above timberline.   I have never run so fast as that day.

The most important fear creator is television.  It is hard to get good video of a drop in the unemployment rate, but easy to show police cars, fire engines, ambulances, yellow crime scene tape, and bodies on gurneys.  The longest running TV shows are cop shows and doctor shows, with lives hanging in the balance every week.  “If it bleeds, it leads”, the mantra of local TV news.

Yes, they are showing real violence, but I have personally never been a victim of violence.  As a volunteer firefighter, I did see the aftermath of terrible accidents, but we were there to respond to those events.  In my daily life in the same area, I never saw an accident.

Life has always been marked by violence.  We are wired to deal with it.  Adrenalin, anger, the need to assemble in groups for mutual protection, all are part of our DNA.  In watching elementary school children in a park, I was always struck by the boy’s tendency to pick up a stick at the first opportunity.  The girls would respond to aggression from boys,  but tended not to initiate aggressive behavior.

Agression

Agression

Are the boys hunters or warriors, or are those behaviors modifiers of the same thing?  I am currently reading about Ancient Greece.  The tales are of war or the challenges of dealing with a dangerous world.  Very few cultures have not been violent to some degree.  There is always peril, whether from the neighboring tribe or the saber-toothed tiger.

Fear has always been a part of life.  Today, despite all the turmoil in the world, in this country we enjoy one of the safest countries and times ever.  The prevailing mindset, however, is fear.  Growing up in the 1950s I ran all over town and always walked the seven blocks to school.  Today children are accompanied by an adult when on the street.  It is more and more unusual to see unaccompanied young teenagers out on the street.

Because of some events in my early childhood, I have never felt safe.  I always have a strategy for dealing with a threat (back against the wall).  I have never in my threescore and ten years had to deal with a threat.  Because of my impulsivity and deep-seated anger I have sometimes initiated aggression, but usually calm down before getting myself in big trouble. I do seem to be getting better at letting go of the anger.

Is that the answer?  Aggression breeds aggression?  Especially with childhood abuse?  The old Johnny Cash song, A Boy Named Sue, is an example.  Father knew he would abandon his son, so he named the boy Sue in order for him to be abused and have to fight back to survive.  Abandonment and the target of aggression became that boy’s life.  He grew up to be angry and aggressive.  The song implies that is a good thing.  It is not.

When children grow up in a loving, fairly safe home with the knowledge they are loved and respected, they are able to deal with threats in a healthier way, knowing they will always have a refuge.  We need to provide love, compassion, support, and respect for all children.  A lot of that exists here, but how about the Sudan?  It is a sad world.  Work to end injustice and violence everywhere.  Foster compassion.

Beware of Cats

Cat

Cat Trapped in a Folk Music Environment

 

It started innocently enough.  I like to get on Facebook, and some of the people I am friends with are into the animal rescue thing.  Lots of cute pictures of cats and dogs.  I didn’t pay much attention to them until this great cat picture appeared.  I liked it, laughed, and shared it on my page.

It is important when using social media to avoid posting material one might regret later.  I have ADD, and one characteristic of my condition is impulsivity.  I get myself into trouble.  I don’t do Twitter as a result.  I also watch my behavior on Facebook and have seldom made a fool of myself. But, I posted a cat picture.

This time, however, it all went bad.  I haven’t posted anything rash, but that one act, posting a cat picture, has led to my moral decline.  I look at too many animal pictures, Like them, and even follow links.  Even more dangerously, I find myself following ever more decadent Internet pages.  Stories about Kardashians!  Jenners! Brad and Angelina!  Republicans!  Media liars!

I have worthwhile things to do with my life, but my time is increasingly going to meaningless pursuits.  I even found myself looking at The Enquirer in the checkout line yesterday.  I fear that I may even start watching reality TV shows.  Oh, the horror!  Will I switch from The New York Times to the Daily Mail?  Watch Good Morning America?

My worst nightmare is watching Fox News.  I have managed to avoid that so far, but I feel myself weakening.  I used to avoid most sports writing and programming, but I found myself talking to my wife about Lance Armstrong this morning.  I also tend to follow attractive woman athletes.  Mixing my weaknesses together.

Will I have to have ESPN now?  Will I find myself at Nuggets and Avalanche games?  Will I start following the sports betting lines from Las Vegas?  Even worse, will I be at Caesars Palace instead of Carnegie Hall?

Remember, Dear Reader, that a cat caused this crisis.

Terror

Paris Terror

Paris Terror

The events in Paris this week bring back memories of all the terrorist incidents we have lived through for many years.  Why?  Why kill innocent people for some cause they have nothing to do with, or they are only making fun of political situations?

Terrorism works.  The goal of terror is to put a spotlight on a cause, to get people emotionally involved in an issue they would not usually care about.  They become passionate and affiliate themselves with the side of the conflict they agree with.  The middle ground, where truth usually resides, becomes obscured as fear and rage take over.

Most people are reasonable and just want to live and let live, whether Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Protestant, Catholic, black, brown, white, wealthy, middle, or working class.  Terrorism divides people into opposite camps, where people view others as suspicious and dangerous.  The others must be controlled, removed, or eliminated.  There is no longer any room for dialog.

This depiction is somewhat extreme.  We have seen decades of terror and hate end in Ireland as the two sides finally stopped the killing mostly out of sheer exhaustion and the work of excellent negotiators.  An example of where terror achieved its end was in 1950s Algeria, when years of bombings, repression, and hate in Algeria and France ended with Algerian independence.

The Battle of Algiers, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Battle_of_Algiers  a movie about that struggle, illustrates how terror works.  It has become either a textbook of terrorism or a lesson for those who wish to end the process of fear and hate.  Algeria was a French colony with a large population of relatively wealthy French amid a large population of mostly poor Muslim Arabs who resented French rule.

An Arab liberation movement began a campaign of terror, bombing public places where French people gathered.  The French army responded with a policy of repression.  People were arrested and tortured, curfews imposed, matters escalated and the bombings began in France, especially Paris.  The polarization, radicalization, and repression escalated as well, finally ending when the French government under DeGaulle granted independence to Algeria.

The parallels with Israel and Palestine are obvious.  The situation there is so divided that many view any peaceable resolution as unlikely, at least in the short run.  In Europe, the parallel is with Muslims living in a secular culture that are marginalized and discriminated against, just as the Catholic minority was in Northern Ireland.

The reasons for terror are not only religion.  Religion often becomes the justification for acts of terror, but race, class, ethnicity, and alienation are often the underlying reasons.  What is needed is tolerance, dialog, and human connection.

Keep calm and carry on.

 

 

Hate, Faith, and Polarization

War Children

War Children

I read recently that if people with strong conservative or fundamentalist beliefs have their beliefs challenged, their position hardens.  I don’t think that applies solely to conservatives.  When I see some outrageous statement form Michele Bachmann or others of her ilk, my negative feelings tend to strengthen my position.

Back when I was taking Political Science courses, the prevailing mantra was that the underlying strength of American democracy was a spirit of compromise.  Legislators on opposite sides of the aisle would come together and work out a deal that accomplished some of the goals of each side.  There was an atmosphere of give and take.

The nation has had periods of cooperation. The Truman and Eisenhower years may be an example.  Polarization has also been a repetitive theme in our history.  Slavery and race are the issues dividing the nation since the eighteenth century.  We seem to be inching toward a resolution, but don’t look for peace and harmony yet.

The current impasse in congress is, on the surface, Republicans versus Democrats.  The rhetoric on both sides is “The American People want this” or “The American people want that”.  The members of congress want campaign contributions and more money.

Most Americans don’t know what they want or don’t care.  Under the rhetoric is ideology.  One the one side are the dedicated progressives with a broad view of how the country should change.  They see social issues that need to be changed.  They like the money.

The other side is composed of two main groups.  The true conservatives just do not want change.  They want retreat to a simpler time without the complex, baffling issues a huge, diverse culture is facing.  Think Norman Rockwell.  They also like the money.  The other group is ideological.  They see themselves as engaged in a global struggle between the forces of evil and the true path they represent.  To compromise would mean giving in to temptation and the path to destruction.  They  like the money.   They want power to overcome the Enemy.

The true believers on either side are resistant to opposing views, and when confronted their views tend to harden.  The Karl Roves are mainly interested in power.  The true believers are preparing for the end times, the final confrontation between the Antichrist and the faithful.

This confrontation has, of course, been a constant theme in Christianity since the Book of Revelation was written.  It was written about Rome during the time of the destruction of the temple and the Jewish diaspora.  The imagery is about Rome.  The Beast, the seven hills, all refer to Rome, not today.  This theme came up again around 1000 A.D., at the time of the Black Death, and often in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, whenever some True Believer sees prophecies and does some calculations.

Almost every generation has applied it to their own time. Christ continues to tarry.  The faithful are not deterred.  The consequence of this hardened ideology is congressional gridlock.  Compromise is not an option when confronting demonic forces.  It doesn’t take too many fundamentalist Christians in Congress to lock things up.

The current trend goes back to the Enlightenment, which was followed by the Industrial Revolution and the beginnings of a secular and progressive society.  Concurrent with the secularization was the growth of literacy and people reading the Bible for their own selves.  Now there is a book with a lot of themes.  There is rich soil for a fundamentalist ideology, a return to the City of God.

The Bible and the Quran came from a region where people have always fought over for land and power.  They also fought over ideas, moving from paganism with a God for every purpose to a God wanting everyone to follow His purpose.  Jesus and Paul wanted us to find God’s law and purpose in our hearts. That takes a lot of work, and most are content with the law. Mohammed laid down a new law and people went right to war over who should enforce the law.

Those who want power use the law for their purposes.  They are not too concerned with eternal truth.  Check that with Dick Cheney and Karl Rove.  Some want to use to use the law and power for what they see as spiritual purposes.  Check that with Ted Cruz, Michele Bachmann, and Sarah Palin.

The struggle in the Islamic world is much the same.  Secularization and progressivism   contend with a reactionary attempt to return to pure times that never really existed.  Old tribal and religious hatreds return with true believers armed with computers and AK-47’s.

There is a broad movement of people seeking to use the common bonds of humanity to work and pray for peace.  I hope the peace seekers will prevail.  I pray with them.  There is a universal web of love that can overcome hate.

 

 

 

Riding in Cars

Bad Drivers

Bad Drivers

The holidays are always stressful, and we find ourselves going places with family members we don’t often ride with.  I have to confess that I am a terrible passenger.  They aren’t doing it right, going too fast, and not paying attention.  I am, of course, without peer as a driver.

I have been in several accidents but there were always extenuating circumstances.  The people I ride with have had less accidents, but they are lucky.   I just do not understand why they won’t follow my lead and drive properly.  My gentle, caring suggestions go unheeded and are often received with hostility.

Oh, the injustice, the way they treat me when I have the best of intentions.  I only wish to share my vast experience and expertise.  Unfortunately, I have to resort to cowering in my seat as they recklessly endanger me with their driving.  They especially resent it when I stomp on my imaginary brake pedal when they aren’t stopping when they should.

This is bad for my mental health, forced to live with the fear and anxiety they create in my delicate psyche.  The worst part is not being allowed to express my panic at being put in one life-threatening situation after another.

Christmas Eve we went to see Theory of Everything, one of the best movies I have seen in some time.  On the way home, Steve drove us around the University Park area to look at all the wonderful Holiday light displays.  It was difficult to enjoy the lights knowing my life was in danger with the reckless 10mph driving I was forced to endure.

DrivingI do prefer to drive, but my family members, usually loving and caring, are united in disliking my driving.  I always resolve to be especially careful when I have passengers, not honking or giving the finger to other drivers, but no one seems to appreciate my selfless generosity.

Is there no justice?  Am I doomed so suffer at the hands of my loved ones?  I only want to do what is right and good.  (That sentence seems familiar.  Oh yes, George III.)  I find myself driving alone, meaning I am always searching for ways to help other drivers improve their skills.  They seem unwilling to learn.

Oh, well, I guess I will just have to take other’s driving as a test of my equanimity.  It is strange that the tests come so often.

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