Yet Another Unitarian Universalist
A postmodern heretic's spiritual journey.
2011 is a prime number year, which makes this a prime number year. The next prime number year will be 2017. That means we have just two prime number dates — when day, month, and year are all prime numbers — left this year: 11/23/2011 and 11/29/2011. Then we will have to wait until February 2, 2017, for another prime number date.
I figured I had better tell you in case you wanted to do something special on Wednesday, or a week from Tuesday.
A member of the our congregation forwarded a photograph his daughter took in her local WalMart. In the background of the photo you can see a nice ham, and in the foreground there’s a sign that reads:
Delicious for Chanukah
Boneless Smoked Ham
$6.29/lb
Oy gevalt.
Early this evening, Carol and I were discussing how Penn State fired football coach Joe Paterna, because he didn’t report credible allegations of child abuse to the police.
Then we decided to go for a walk. It was a little bit chilly out. Carol went to get her sweatshirt, which just happens to say “Penn State” on it. “I wonder if I should wear it?” she said. We decided that probably no one would notice.
We had been walking for a quarter of an hour when a car drove by and someone yelled something out the window. We couldn’t figure out if they were yelling at us. There were no other pedestrians in sight. But we couldn’t think of anyone who knows us who would yell out the window at us if they drove by. “I wonder if it’s the sweatshirt,” Carol said.
After half an hour, we got to the business district at Burlingame Avenue. There were quite a few people walking on the sidewalks. Suddenly Carol stopped. “I can’t tell if they’re looking at me or not,” she said, and took off the sweatshirt, and tied it around her waist.
It’s the best of times — so have a doggone good birthday.
Oops, I saved this as a draft instead of posting it yesterday. Sorry, Abs.
Driving home late at night, I was flipping through the radio stations at the low end of the dial, and happened to hear an interview with a yoga teacher who calls himself “MC Yogi,” and who has issued a yogi hip hop album called “Elephant Power” (after Ganesh, natch). Here’s a video “MC Yogi” has released on Youtube:
In a way, it’s kind of fun that someone is using hip hop as a medium to talk about Hindu gods and goddesses. But it also makes me uncomfortable. If you check out some of the live videos of MC Yogi on Youtube, you’ll see a bunch of fit white people in expensive yoga togs shaking their yoga bodies at a retreat center somewhere far from the inner city predominantly black neighborhoods where hip hop was born. That cultural dissonance makes me pause; then throw in comic-book stories about Haruman and Ganesh, and I’m beyond pausing and into discomfort.
Transciber’s note: This afternoon, Dan conducted an interview with Mr. Crankypants, his evil alter ego, and political commentator for this blog. A complete transcript of the recording of the interview follows.
Dan: Mr. Crankypants, you’ve been wandering around the apartment all day muttering strange predictions about the presidential race. I’m wondering if you could sum up your political predictions for our readers.
Mr. C.: We’re screwed.
Dan: That’s it? That’s all you have to say? Continue reading “Politics and Mr. Crankypants”
The minister was interviewing a candidate for the organist job.
“Your resume says that you played organ for ten years, then stopped. Why did you decided to stop?” asked the minister.
When you’re sitting in the airport waiting for a flight, it’s fun to look around you for typical airport fauna. I’m sitting here in San Francisco airport, looking around (keeping quiet so as not to scare the fauna away), and here’s what I see:
— Largemouth Cellphoner: The loud braying call first drew my attention to this male of the species. This typical individual has all the diagnostic field marks: potbelly, self-important air, aggressive strutting walk, expensive but schlubby clothes. However, this individual is exhibiting atypical behavior: he is off in a quiet corner instead of giving his loud call in a densely packed public space.
— Hunchback Gamer: This species is most often found close to a power outlet, and this individual is no exception. She exhibits the typical behavior of the species, hunched over a laptop playing a video game, earphones in place, completely oblivious to the world. Given how shut off from the world the species always appears, one does wonder how they find mates.
— Redfaced Bigmouthed Boobies: A mated couple of this species, a close relative of the Largemouth Cellphoner, are currently shouting across the terminal to each other: “What did you do to this phone?” “Nothing!” “Every time you touch this, it breaks!” Diagnostic field marks include faces red from anger, and aggressive behavior towards others of the same species.
— Common Geek: This individual is a fairly common color morph of khakis and blue button-down shirt. The individual is exhibiting the common behavior of typing madly at a laptop while ignoring his mate. Oh wait: I’m actually staring into a mirror here.
This year I have every intention of actually making it in to the city to see the Altered Barbie art show. All because of the promotional video for the show, in which one Altered Barbie artist named Charlotte Davis says: “Barbie is the — how would you say it — the non-religious Jesus.”
God. How could I miss that.
Carol was telling me about her trip to the video rental store. They have a big fancy entertainment center with surround-sound speakers where they show videos, and when Carol went they were showing the fourth Star Wars movie. I admitted that I had never seen that one, and then I had to admit that the only Star Wars movie that I had ever seen in its entirety was the first movie. “But I saw the first Star Wars on opening day,” I said.
“Really,” said Carol, expressing mild interest.
“Haven’t I ever told you that story?” I said. “I went with my friend Mike. We were in the high school science fiction club together. The auditorium was filled with people from the New England Science Fiction Association. When — what’s his name, Harrison Ford’s character —”
“Han Solo,” said Carol.
“Yeah, when he’s talking about how fast his spaceship will go,” I said, “he says something like, ‘Yeah, it’s so fast it’ll go 32 parsecs.’ And all around us you could hear people murmuring, ‘Parsecs? Parsecs per what?’ And then people started booing.”
Carol laughed at the image of a movie theatre full of science fiction geeks booing.
“And when we came out of the movie, they offered us buttons that said, ‘May the Force be with you.’ And I didn’t take one. Mike and I were sure that the only people who would like the movie would be science fiction geeks.”
“That button would probably be valuable now,” Carol said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I figured it would be like George Lucas’s first movie, ‘THX-1138’ or whatever it was called. Good movie, but no one watched it.”
Carol said that when she learned about George Lucas’s connection with Joseph Campbell, she realized how powerful those Star Wars movies could be. I had no such intimation; I didn’t get that Star Wars was myth, religion even, wrapped up in pop culture. And because of that, today I do not own a valuable button reading “May the Force be with you.”
