Do unto others as you would have done until you. This is the fundamental point of most religions in the world. But if you follow it, you had better be prepared to fully accept this statement.
I've been thinking lately about this directive as it applies to people whose theology I do not agree with. I have always felt that if you choose to be a Christian--feel compelled, are drawn, witnessed, etc.--then that is your choice and I stand by your right to choose. But don't try to witness me. That is not my choice of religion. Don't put that theology on me because it is your way of life. Allow me the same courtesy of choosing my path, albeit different in such a fundamentally opposite way. If you truly believe that you should Do Unto Others, would you not allow this for someone else as well? If you want to be free to choose your path, do you not allow others to choose theirs? And then it occurred to me: probably you would not.
Maybe this is the point I've been missing when I get so frustrated and downright ornery about people stopping me on the sidewalk, out of the fricking blue to ask me if I've accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior.* I am a magnet for this, or was these past few years. Rant on why I look like a good target for conversion aside, I have had ample opportunity to mull this over. Stuck in my craw more like. (One instance happened while I was visibly pregnant and I got the distinct impression I was being recruited because of my double potential. Ick. Ok, small rant.)
Perhaps this is how evangelicals want to be treated. Perhaps they do wish this is how someone would treat them. Or they remember fondly seeing the light. "If I were an unsaved soul, I would want someone to come along and show me the Way." But there's a fallacy of logic here. You can't want something retroactively.
If you are wandering around without Jesus, you can't be saved, and then apply your current state to a past one. You as your Saved Self cannot change the past. You cannot say "I wanted this then." Not without adding "But I didn't know it at the time". I want lots of things that I won't in the future. The grass is always greener. It is incorrect to be able to apply a current state of mind to a past self. That's why the phrase "If I'd only known then what I do now" was invented. You didn't know. You didn't want. Within that thought is the admission that you did not want or know what you do now.
I can want people to be able to choose their path, even if I don't agree with it. I want them to allow me to do the same. This is a current and present reciprocation. Do evangelical people want me to stop them and try to sway them to my theology? I suspect not. Yet this is the equivalent, linear reciprocation of their approach.
And it comes down to this: Can I shake your faith, evangelical person? Is there anything I can say that will make you not believe? (Hell) No. Then you must accept that this perfect state exists for other people too, in some other way. I cannot tell you why I don't believe as you do. I just don't. I don't feel it. But I do feel, just as strongly as you do, in what I do believe. And I couldn't tell why I have that belief either; it comes from a feeling of rightness within. And if you value your faith, if you love your god, accept that others love theirs just as much. Yours is not the only way, just as mine is is not. Is acceptance of others my way? Yes. Do I own it? No. Do you need to do as I do and accept others? Only if you wish to do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
*I have decided from this point on, such unequivocal and unwarranted invasion of my personal space and privacy (why is it any of your business?) will be met with in-kind: God no! I don't want my attitude to degenerate into Hammurabi's Law because that's not the point of Doing Unto Others. Spreading Hate is not going to make the world a better a place. I do however feel it is perfectly within the boundaries of my personal space to shut them out as enthusiastically, when asked directly. You did ask. Just because you won't like the answer doesn't mean I should be dishonest.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Bollywood mania
You've heard of Mister Toad, right? He is Frog and Badger's friend and has manias that his friends have to save him from. Like the Wild Ride. I go through those too, large and small. Sometimes a weekend passion to make-my-own-clothes-that-actually-fit-dammit. Sometimes a song on replay for a couple of weeks. One Christmas I kept making Chex Mix for months afterward. Other times it's a tangential string of movies featuring a theme or actor. Luckily, nobody has to save me. I participate loosely, not acutely, in my manias.
And then there's the times they're more like distance learning classes, like taking an online course in something. That's where I am now. Hello Bollywood.
The interest started back somewhere with Bride and Prejudice. It's Bollywood lite but still fits into the category. Lite because of the American actors, mild dance numbers and lack of Hindi. And it stemmed from another streak I was on, versions of Pride and Prejudice. It translated so well from the austere English to an Indian spin that I ended up buying it.
But then--oh then!-- Bride and Prejudice came up on my Netflix queue and by association (IloveyouNetflix) I came across Bang Bang! and holy moly. This, folks, is where the mania started.
So now I'm on a Bollywood kick. Which is weird. Because the quintessential fact of a Bollywood film is the singing and dancing. All of which I usually avoid. Not a fan of musicals at all. Can't stand them. And yes, I saw Singing In The Rain. The whole time I live in dread of the opening chords of another musical number. They stop the plot. And anything plot related that happens during a song is difficult to understand. Unless the whole song is about it. And then the whole song is about it. I cringe and think, "Get on with it!" This isn't fair, I know. And there are some musicals recently that I think I would probably enjoy. What's the one with the guy who's constantly slamming doors and plays all of 7 seven people? That one. I bet I'd like that one pretty well. Maybe I just need crazier action. That could be the root of my distaste. I also have not had the benefit of Broadway. Midwestern musical theater is not bad--it can be quite good--but it's not handsome enough to tempt me. My sensibilities are not that refined. Give me more Bang Bang! for my buck, please.
This latest craze started out as a movie mania but it's impossible to just watch--literally I have to read the subtitles--which leads to picking up a few words. Then there's the costumes; costume analyzing is favorite pastime anyway. See enough movies and you start being able to identify the stylistic differences between the actors. Salman Khan always has a gimmick: whistling and flexing, twitching his belt buckle, sticking his sunglasses in the back of his shirt collar. Shah Ruhk Kahn likes personas reflected in costumes, later movies becoming more dramatic with the effects. Hrithik Roshan is a rubberband; his signature is a fluid and highly choreographed dance style. (Indians are more concerned with directors, choreographers and lyricists. My American habits keep me focused on the things I know, the actors I can identify. If I care enough and the mania grips me long enough, I might get there.)
It's Roshan who stars in Bang Bang!, along with Katrina Kaif, another name I've followed in my queue suggestions. This was the best introduction I could have had to a genre of films I usually avoid. To start with there are only 3 songs--3!--in the whole thing. Plus the bonus song at the end which really is filmed more like MTV. I can't tell if they further the plot; I don't speak Hindi. Sometimes songs are subtitled, sometimes not. But that's the crux--it's all good!!
And here's another thing I've learned: the movies are long. 3 hours sometimes. But, there's often an Interval. And that's pretty fun too. Not the instrumental score you find in Lawrence of Arabia. Well, maybe, I don't see them in Indian theaters. But on my t.v. it's a well-timed cliff hanger. In the case of Bang Bang! it's the cover to a romance novel. And another kicker, you can't tell they're that long! They don't feel like it. The plot and action is spaced out enough and (usually) well knitted together so it doesn't feel like you are sitting through something interminable to get to the last, good 30 minutes.
Probably the best thing and what I found most surprisingly refreshing is the complete lack of Western theological sensibility. I shouldn't have been surprised. But somehow, the lack of that particular dogma snuck up on me. And it's been fabulous to watch a consistently non-blonde cast. With all the diversity of American cinema, there's a whole world out there, yo.
So it has begun. If I can source my clothes from India my summer wardrobe is going to be awesome.
And then there's the times they're more like distance learning classes, like taking an online course in something. That's where I am now. Hello Bollywood.
The interest started back somewhere with Bride and Prejudice. It's Bollywood lite but still fits into the category. Lite because of the American actors, mild dance numbers and lack of Hindi. And it stemmed from another streak I was on, versions of Pride and Prejudice. It translated so well from the austere English to an Indian spin that I ended up buying it.
But then--oh then!-- Bride and Prejudice came up on my Netflix queue and by association (IloveyouNetflix) I came across Bang Bang! and holy moly. This, folks, is where the mania started.
So now I'm on a Bollywood kick. Which is weird. Because the quintessential fact of a Bollywood film is the singing and dancing. All of which I usually avoid. Not a fan of musicals at all. Can't stand them. And yes, I saw Singing In The Rain. The whole time I live in dread of the opening chords of another musical number. They stop the plot. And anything plot related that happens during a song is difficult to understand. Unless the whole song is about it. And then the whole song is about it. I cringe and think, "Get on with it!" This isn't fair, I know. And there are some musicals recently that I think I would probably enjoy. What's the one with the guy who's constantly slamming doors and plays all of 7 seven people? That one. I bet I'd like that one pretty well. Maybe I just need crazier action. That could be the root of my distaste. I also have not had the benefit of Broadway. Midwestern musical theater is not bad--it can be quite good--but it's not handsome enough to tempt me. My sensibilities are not that refined. Give me more Bang Bang! for my buck, please.
This latest craze started out as a movie mania but it's impossible to just watch--literally I have to read the subtitles--which leads to picking up a few words. Then there's the costumes; costume analyzing is favorite pastime anyway. See enough movies and you start being able to identify the stylistic differences between the actors. Salman Khan always has a gimmick: whistling and flexing, twitching his belt buckle, sticking his sunglasses in the back of his shirt collar. Shah Ruhk Kahn likes personas reflected in costumes, later movies becoming more dramatic with the effects. Hrithik Roshan is a rubberband; his signature is a fluid and highly choreographed dance style. (Indians are more concerned with directors, choreographers and lyricists. My American habits keep me focused on the things I know, the actors I can identify. If I care enough and the mania grips me long enough, I might get there.)
It's Roshan who stars in Bang Bang!, along with Katrina Kaif, another name I've followed in my queue suggestions. This was the best introduction I could have had to a genre of films I usually avoid. To start with there are only 3 songs--3!--in the whole thing. Plus the bonus song at the end which really is filmed more like MTV. I can't tell if they further the plot; I don't speak Hindi. Sometimes songs are subtitled, sometimes not. But that's the crux--it's all good!!
And here's another thing I've learned: the movies are long. 3 hours sometimes. But, there's often an Interval. And that's pretty fun too. Not the instrumental score you find in Lawrence of Arabia. Well, maybe, I don't see them in Indian theaters. But on my t.v. it's a well-timed cliff hanger. In the case of Bang Bang! it's the cover to a romance novel. And another kicker, you can't tell they're that long! They don't feel like it. The plot and action is spaced out enough and (usually) well knitted together so it doesn't feel like you are sitting through something interminable to get to the last, good 30 minutes.
Probably the best thing and what I found most surprisingly refreshing is the complete lack of Western theological sensibility. I shouldn't have been surprised. But somehow, the lack of that particular dogma snuck up on me. And it's been fabulous to watch a consistently non-blonde cast. With all the diversity of American cinema, there's a whole world out there, yo.
So it has begun. If I can source my clothes from India my summer wardrobe is going to be awesome.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Soiled Undies or Suckling Pig
You know the old adage, always have on clean underwear in case you are in an accident. For what? It's always a mother or grandmother in my head who says this. Maybe that's who started it, some old wives. Maybe it's a throw back from the 50's. And would it really matter going in what they looked like? For various reasons, they might not be clean post-accident, pre-medical attention.
I had a different kind of image run through my mind recently, maybe creating a new adage: Don't be a suckling pig!
I have an apple at my desk and I've been thinking, "Hey, I could eat that on the way home." I normally bring a bottle of water to drink in the car--in my better moments--a nice way to stay hydrated with real liquid instead of caffeinated substitutes. I find I drink more if I have it in the car. Driving is a miraculous way to do things by rote. There's not enough to do apparently, having both hands on the wheel, using a turn signal, checking your blind spot. Throw another little task in there. For those times when you're just sitting there, bored.
I have the water. But I could eat an apple too. Like on the days when I forget to refill the bottle and bring it. Or in corroboration with the water like some healthy commute coup. The idea of having something to do, to sing around, to fiddle with more than just the quick sip, was appealing. Like I said, make it more complicated. So I took the apple in the car with me and started eating at a stoplight.
And then I got to thinking, forget the underwear. What happens if I have an accident and they find me with an apple stuffed in my mouth? Like a roast pig? Splayed out and maybe bruised, maybe a little crispy from frostbite, (being the time of year for it,) or from crash burns, giving me the overall coloring of something slightly cooked, apple in my mouth, like a suckling pig, eyes wide and staring. What then? What kind of picture would that make? Much worse than soiled undies I think. Soiled undies vs. suckling pig. Hard to say.
If in your travels as a good Samaritan if you come across someone knocked out and looking ripe for the spit, know that you probably got the better of the two. And I thank you.
I had a different kind of image run through my mind recently, maybe creating a new adage: Don't be a suckling pig!
I have an apple at my desk and I've been thinking, "Hey, I could eat that on the way home." I normally bring a bottle of water to drink in the car--in my better moments--a nice way to stay hydrated with real liquid instead of caffeinated substitutes. I find I drink more if I have it in the car. Driving is a miraculous way to do things by rote. There's not enough to do apparently, having both hands on the wheel, using a turn signal, checking your blind spot. Throw another little task in there. For those times when you're just sitting there, bored.
I have the water. But I could eat an apple too. Like on the days when I forget to refill the bottle and bring it. Or in corroboration with the water like some healthy commute coup. The idea of having something to do, to sing around, to fiddle with more than just the quick sip, was appealing. Like I said, make it more complicated. So I took the apple in the car with me and started eating at a stoplight.
And then I got to thinking, forget the underwear. What happens if I have an accident and they find me with an apple stuffed in my mouth? Like a roast pig? Splayed out and maybe bruised, maybe a little crispy from frostbite, (being the time of year for it,) or from crash burns, giving me the overall coloring of something slightly cooked, apple in my mouth, like a suckling pig, eyes wide and staring. What then? What kind of picture would that make? Much worse than soiled undies I think. Soiled undies vs. suckling pig. Hard to say.
If in your travels as a good Samaritan if you come across someone knocked out and looking ripe for the spit, know that you probably got the better of the two. And I thank you.
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