According to the lunatic fringe, we are only a few days away from the rapture. I wasn’t around for the first coming of Christ but I hear it was awesome. Especially if you were Roman.
I am guessing I will not be lifted up as one of God’s chosen if the rapture hits on Saturday as my life has been lived as far from mistranslated and misinterpreted biblical passages as possible. High places tend to give me vertigo and I do not care much for flying, anyway.
I have a problem with faith because I tend to apply logic, reasoning and critical thinking to most aspects of my life. Those things that I do not apply these aforementioned principles to I get through with a lot of yelling and scotch. I am happy “God” works for some people. I am even happier that grown adults who think the concept of Santa Claus is ridiculous also think that a supreme being not only cares about the good deeds they do but uses said deeds as a reason to love or not love them.
It’s not that I don’t believe in God. It’s that I just don’t care if God exists or doesn’t exist. I have bigger things to worry about. Like a wife to take care of, kids to raise, bills to pay and clients to design for. It seems like God’s “chosen” people think heaven is some kind of exclusionary country club, anyway. If I wanted to be around a bunch of elitist pricks I would hang out at the Cherry Creek Mall on the weekends.
Almost a year has passed since my last post on the MB. To say I have been focused on other things might be more of an understatement than when General Custer uttered, “Where did all these Indians come from?”
What have I been up to, you ask?
- Making Babies. The wife and I are expecting a girl child at the end of March. I am studying my Disney princesses and learning how to braid hair.
- Fathering The Boy. His obsessions with Spider-Man and trains are either legendary or emotionally damaging. He also has a penchant for stripping naked in the middle of the night and yelling at his stuffed animals.
- Broz Design-ing. I have entered year three and may have to let go of some of my control issues and hire some help.
I am drinking copious amounts of coffee and occasionally sleeping. Every so often I will wipe the crust from eyes and emerge from the design bunker to kiss the wife, play a hockey game and have a whiskey.
I have been a creative juggernaut this past year. I will be uploading a smattering of essays in the coming months that I am hoping to piece together someday into a book. I am currently getting my Rembrandt on and painting a self-portrait. Finally, I am back posting to the MB once again. Bestiality links will be imminent.
Last night I actually watched the presidential address. It was not my fault. No decent hockey games were on, our DVR was empty and Jeopardy was not showing due to the speech. I will take “Apathetic American” for $400, Alex. Obama is a great orator. He is take your panties off smooth. I am so used to Bush tripping over words and fumbling around at the podium for the past eight years that it is refreshing. My love for Obama ends there, however. Aside from appreciating the historical context of his presidency, I think Obama is all spectacle, no substance. Case and point the public relations sweetness of giving a military-themed speech at West Point. Here is my rundown of what Obama said last night:
We are pulling out of Iraq and re-mobilizing to Afghanistan. This should excite you as I have talked with generals and advisers who told me this what we need to do. Here is an exact date of when I will bring home the troops. Yes, I think war is timed like a football game and America just entered the fourth quarter. Go Bears! Here is a comparison of me to FDR. Please ignore the irony that New Deal programs failed miserably and/or saddled future generations of Americans with the burden of contributing to programs that will go bankrupt in their lifetime (Social Security). Something about liberty. We like Muslims now. Support your troops. It is all Bush’s fault.
Who needs a drink? And some Obama Jesus gear? And some Hope Is Fading Fast gear?
Buck Fifty has fast become my favorite site for Denver and Colorado history. Today’s installment: The Ku Klux Klan in Colorado. In the 1920s; the Klan boasted nationwide membership in the millions and was not the backwoods, hillbilly joke that it is today. Regis University (my collegiate Alma mater) has a stone wall on the southwestern edge of campus declared a historical landmark (or so I was told) where students of the 1920s and 1930s fought off the Silent Empire on numerous occasions. In my day, said stone wall was used by students to park the pricey SUVs their parents bought them next to or to smoke cigarettes against on a warm autumn day. I was also unaware that the old Denver airport (Stapleton) bore the name of noted klansmen Ben Stapleton.
The majority of my ancestors settled in Denver in the early 20th Century. My mother’s Italian relatives took refuge in the various brownstones of North Denver and my great-grandfather, an illiterate fruit peddler, was one of the founding members of Potenza Hall (an Italian lodge that is still standing today amidst a landscape of Rite Aids and Taco Bells). My father’s Slavic ancestors settled in the Globeville area; a hard neighborhood know for its rail yards, smelting and meat packing industries. My dad grew up in this community in a small house amongst Slavic kin who liked to drink, cuss, smoke and hate anyone who was not Slavic (my great uncle is still getting his “Gran Torino” on in a Globeville neighborhood that is now predominately Hispanic). The Western Slavonic Lodge was founded around the same time my great-grandmother arrived in Denver from what is now modern-day Russia. I think these lodges are indicative of the mindset of immigrants at the time. It was a place to gather with fellow countrymen, drink, offer support and learn about the idea known as “America.” Being “American” was important to all of my ancestors that settled in Denver. My great-grandfather, for example, when asked by his children to teach them Italian would reply, “We are in America, and in America you speak English.” I often ponder what happened to this mindset; where people identified themselves as American first and their ethnic background second. Perhaps it withered away as class systems divided. Or maybe it disappeared with our manufacturing base when we decided culturally that it was better to consume goods rather than produce them. Perhaps it vanished when people accepted that being friendly was merely waving hello to your nameless neighbor at Starbucks. It could be all these things, or it could just be that a fucking McDonalds became more important to us than a community center.