After months of relative silence, I've decided to announce that I'm officially closing this blog. For anyone who actually has an interest in anything I might have to say, I would encourage them to check out Movable Type Blog on the Northerngrove.com domain. That's where I'm going to focus most of my attention.
I would delete this blog outright, but I have many friends who write here, and this blog makes it easier to post comments on their blogs.
To the good folks at Blogger.com, I thank them for allowing me to post my thoughts through their site. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the service you offer.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
Well, crud.
I may end up changing my hosting provider for my web site. My domain registration is going to expire in about twelve days, and I can't renew it right now. You see, my hosting provider usually handles this, but for some reason, she hasn't. I've tried contacting her and haven't heard anything.
To further compolicate matters, I have to go through a three day (or better) process in order to arrange to handle the renewal myself. You see, the registration service needs the password or credit card number used to register/renew the domain last. I don't have that, and as the email address on record for the customer account isn't mine, I can't reset the password and have the new one sent to me. So now I have to fill out a form requesting that the domain name be moved to an account I can access. I also need to provide ID demonstrating that I "own" the domain name. Fortunately, I am listed as the registrant in the database, or I'd be completely out of luck.
I've been looking at a different hosting service, anyway. It's the one that the POC website is through. It offers a few more options than I currently have. And if something's going on with my current provider, it gives me more reason to consider changing now. Of course, I want to do some looking into it, first. I need to find out how much more difficult it's going to be to actually move my domain name to a completely different hosting service. And of course, I also want to make sure I can install Movable Type there. I'd hate to have to switch blog software. Especially since I have a paid license for MT.
To further compolicate matters, I have to go through a three day (or better) process in order to arrange to handle the renewal myself. You see, the registration service needs the password or credit card number used to register/renew the domain last. I don't have that, and as the email address on record for the customer account isn't mine, I can't reset the password and have the new one sent to me. So now I have to fill out a form requesting that the domain name be moved to an account I can access. I also need to provide ID demonstrating that I "own" the domain name. Fortunately, I am listed as the registrant in the database, or I'd be completely out of luck.
I've been looking at a different hosting service, anyway. It's the one that the POC website is through. It offers a few more options than I currently have. And if something's going on with my current provider, it gives me more reason to consider changing now. Of course, I want to do some looking into it, first. I need to find out how much more difficult it's going to be to actually move my domain name to a completely different hosting service. And of course, I also want to make sure I can install Movable Type there. I'd hate to have to switch blog software. Especially since I have a paid license for MT.
Friday, April 14, 2006
A Life Lesson Taught by the Queen of the Prudes
For the first few years after graduating from college, I'd often go back and visit friends I had made among those in younger classes. I'd often make a weekend of it, crashing on the floor of someone's dorm room or on one of the couches in the quad where some of my friends lived.
I remember one time I went to visit and spent the last half hour of my trip visiting with Kathryn. Kathryn had started dating one of my classmates, Tim, our senior year. As Kathryn was a freshman, she had three more years to go after Tim and I graduated. I wouldn't say that Kathryn and I were ever all that close. Mostly, I knew her because of my friendship with Tim. As we sat there talking that day, Kathryn asked in her ever-curious tone of voice, "So, do you have a boyfriend?" I'm not sure if Kathryn ever realized how much that question shocked me. You see, Kathryn was probably one of the last people I ever would've expected to ask me such a question -- let alone in such a casual, conversational manner.
You see, Kathryn, like most of my friends and acquaintances from college (or at least the ones I hung out with up until my last semester) were conservative, evangelical, and often fundamentalist Christians. In fact, I always (and still do, though I think five years of marriage to Tim has mellowed her some) thought of Kathryn as the "Queen of the prides." She was often vastly disapproving of the slightly more risquee bouts of humor the rest of my social circle was fond of. And while she was willing to wear clothing that bared her ankles, she was tended to dress rather conservatively or "plainly." And yet, despite all of her conservatism and prudishness, she calmly and sincerely asked a gay friend if he had a boyfriend -- without ulterior motives, no less!
I think that moment has driven home the point that people can surprise you more than any other moment in my life. In that moment, I was faced with the fact that my preconceived notions about how Kathryn would treat me -- though they were based on what I still consider to be pretty compelling evidence -- were quite wrong. I had misjudged her. It made me stop and think about how it's too easy to make incorrect assumptions about how people will act in any given situation, even when those assumptions seem reasonable.
I wish I could say that I learned my lesson about making assumptions about other people, but I can't. I've since had many conversations where I had to admit that I fell prey to preconceived notions about how friends, acquaintances, and even strangers would react or what they were thinking in a given situation. I probably always will. But I at least try to remember that one question asked by the Queen of the prides when I catch myself making such assumptions. And then I try to open myself to the possibility that the person I'm dealing with may surprise me, too.
I remember one time I went to visit and spent the last half hour of my trip visiting with Kathryn. Kathryn had started dating one of my classmates, Tim, our senior year. As Kathryn was a freshman, she had three more years to go after Tim and I graduated. I wouldn't say that Kathryn and I were ever all that close. Mostly, I knew her because of my friendship with Tim. As we sat there talking that day, Kathryn asked in her ever-curious tone of voice, "So, do you have a boyfriend?" I'm not sure if Kathryn ever realized how much that question shocked me. You see, Kathryn was probably one of the last people I ever would've expected to ask me such a question -- let alone in such a casual, conversational manner.
You see, Kathryn, like most of my friends and acquaintances from college (or at least the ones I hung out with up until my last semester) were conservative, evangelical, and often fundamentalist Christians. In fact, I always (and still do, though I think five years of marriage to Tim has mellowed her some) thought of Kathryn as the "Queen of the prides." She was often vastly disapproving of the slightly more risquee bouts of humor the rest of my social circle was fond of. And while she was willing to wear clothing that bared her ankles, she was tended to dress rather conservatively or "plainly." And yet, despite all of her conservatism and prudishness, she calmly and sincerely asked a gay friend if he had a boyfriend -- without ulterior motives, no less!
I think that moment has driven home the point that people can surprise you more than any other moment in my life. In that moment, I was faced with the fact that my preconceived notions about how Kathryn would treat me -- though they were based on what I still consider to be pretty compelling evidence -- were quite wrong. I had misjudged her. It made me stop and think about how it's too easy to make incorrect assumptions about how people will act in any given situation, even when those assumptions seem reasonable.
I wish I could say that I learned my lesson about making assumptions about other people, but I can't. I've since had many conversations where I had to admit that I fell prey to preconceived notions about how friends, acquaintances, and even strangers would react or what they were thinking in a given situation. I probably always will. But I at least try to remember that one question asked by the Queen of the prides when I catch myself making such assumptions. And then I try to open myself to the possibility that the person I'm dealing with may surprise me, too.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Thoughts on "The Visitation"
This weekend, I ran to Blockbuster and rented a copy of "The Visitation," a movie that is "loosely based" on the novel by the same title, written by Frank Peretti.; I originally started reading Peretti's novels when I was in high school. A good adult friend from my little hometown church recommended them to me, and I was hooked. Even now that I don't agree with the author's theology, I can still enjoy many of his works.
Unfortunately, I was dismayed by the changes made when transforming this book into a movie. This was particularly dismaying as Peretti was listed as one of the producers, suggesting that he had (though limited I'm sure) some say in these changes. Primarily, a number of characters were changed, merged, or just plain deleted. A prime example of this was the circumstances surrounding the death Travis Jordan's wife. This had the effect of transforming Jordan from a man mourning the loss caused by a disease he and his church couldn't "pray away" into a man who was bitter do to an unsolved murder.
Normally, I can be fairly understanding when things are changed in order to make a book-based movie "work." Books and movies are completely different media, and what works in one doesn't always work in the other. But the changes to the characters and plot-lines in this case represent a change to the entire theme of the original book.
"The Visitation" was a rather unique book amongst Peretti's writing experiences. It was different in that it was about something Peretti doesn't often write about. Unlike books where he's focused on the spiritual or supernatural -- like "This Present Darkness" -- or some particular issue of religio-political significance -- like "Prophet" -- this book focuses on people, as well as people's experiences with "church stuff." The supernatural "miracles" of the man who would be the new Jesus take a secondary role to the people who are reacting to him, or to Travis's painful memories of his memories -- both pleasant and unpleasant -- of life in the church. It is these things that made me appreciate this book most out of all of his other novels. And I was saddened to see all of this missing from the movie.
The movie itself was pretty good for a movie. But I think that everyone did both the movie and an excellent novel a great disservice by associating it -- even "loosely" -- with Peretti's awesome book. And I'm disappointed that Peretti would not only allow it to happen, but appears to have been at least partly involved in such a travesty.
Unfortunately, I was dismayed by the changes made when transforming this book into a movie. This was particularly dismaying as Peretti was listed as one of the producers, suggesting that he had (though limited I'm sure) some say in these changes. Primarily, a number of characters were changed, merged, or just plain deleted. A prime example of this was the circumstances surrounding the death Travis Jordan's wife. This had the effect of transforming Jordan from a man mourning the loss caused by a disease he and his church couldn't "pray away" into a man who was bitter do to an unsolved murder.
Normally, I can be fairly understanding when things are changed in order to make a book-based movie "work." Books and movies are completely different media, and what works in one doesn't always work in the other. But the changes to the characters and plot-lines in this case represent a change to the entire theme of the original book.
"The Visitation" was a rather unique book amongst Peretti's writing experiences. It was different in that it was about something Peretti doesn't often write about. Unlike books where he's focused on the spiritual or supernatural -- like "This Present Darkness" -- or some particular issue of religio-political significance -- like "Prophet" -- this book focuses on people, as well as people's experiences with "church stuff." The supernatural "miracles" of the man who would be the new Jesus take a secondary role to the people who are reacting to him, or to Travis's painful memories of his memories -- both pleasant and unpleasant -- of life in the church. It is these things that made me appreciate this book most out of all of his other novels. And I was saddened to see all of this missing from the movie.
The movie itself was pretty good for a movie. But I think that everyone did both the movie and an excellent novel a great disservice by associating it -- even "loosely" -- with Peretti's awesome book. And I'm disappointed that Peretti would not only allow it to happen, but appears to have been at least partly involved in such a travesty.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
If Pagans are poor, how are we defining "poor"?
Last night during the POC board meeting, someone brought up the fact that "Pagans are poor." Now, Tracie's old teacher, Jack, used to have a big issue with this claim. He challenged that there was no need for Pagans to be poor, and that believing we are inherently and necessarily poor goes against some of the basic tenets of Pagan philosophies and religions.
I'm inclined to agree with Jack. But as I think about last night, I have to admit that I have to think about the person who said it. This is the same person who mentioned multiple times last night that she had a great house with the extra space for a classroom/ritual space for her coven. She also mentioned that her husband was in advertising. Now, last I knew, most jobs in advertising (short of working in the mailroom, maybe?) are professional-grade jobs. I also suspect that most people working in advertising have a 401k plan or some other retirement savings plan. So my question is, what definition of "poor" could possibly be broad enough to include this woman and her family?
As I think about the rest of the people in the room, there were two of us who are also software engineers, another paid professions. One of the women there came to the meeting with her supper -- takeout from what I understand to be "the most expensive sushi restaurant in Rochester." And with the possible exception of a couple of the quieter people, I think all of us in the room have at least one computer in our homes.
Again, I ask: What definition of "poor" could possibly include most of the people who were present last night? The only ones that currently come to mind are "not independently wealthy," "not stinking rich," "not making as much money as I like," and "can't support my current lifestyle without getting up to my eyeballs in debt."
I'm not poor by any stretch of my imagination. Sure, I still have to work every day. But I also have a savings account that is growing quite nicely, two retirement plans (neither of which I can currently contribute to, but that's only because I don't work for the companies the plans are through, and besides, I hope to have a new plan I will contribute to with my new employer by the end of the year), and a (rented) townhouse with a spare bedroom and an extra room in the basement. And I certainly don't have to juggle my bills. And I'd say that there were at least two families in the room last night -- including that of the woman declaring all Pagans poor -- that are probably about in the same boat I'm in. (The only difference I'd expect to find is that they probably have less available spending money for impulse buying and other piddly stuff.)
Now, I'm sure there are legitimately poor Pagans. (There are certainly Pagans not living with the same level of financial comfort and luxry I have.) But I think that we Pagans (and probably American society as a whole, but I'm focused on Pagans right now) need to stop and think about how quickly we're grabbing that "poor" classification for ourselves. To me, our quickness to say we're poor is an indicator that we're still in bondage to the whole "more money is better" misconception. After all, as another religion's book wisely warns, "the love of money is the root of all evil." (I'm not sure I totally agree, but it's the root of a lot of evil.)
I'm inclined to agree with Jack. But as I think about last night, I have to admit that I have to think about the person who said it. This is the same person who mentioned multiple times last night that she had a great house with the extra space for a classroom/ritual space for her coven. She also mentioned that her husband was in advertising. Now, last I knew, most jobs in advertising (short of working in the mailroom, maybe?) are professional-grade jobs. I also suspect that most people working in advertising have a 401k plan or some other retirement savings plan. So my question is, what definition of "poor" could possibly be broad enough to include this woman and her family?
As I think about the rest of the people in the room, there were two of us who are also software engineers, another paid professions. One of the women there came to the meeting with her supper -- takeout from what I understand to be "the most expensive sushi restaurant in Rochester." And with the possible exception of a couple of the quieter people, I think all of us in the room have at least one computer in our homes.
Again, I ask: What definition of "poor" could possibly include most of the people who were present last night? The only ones that currently come to mind are "not independently wealthy," "not stinking rich," "not making as much money as I like," and "can't support my current lifestyle without getting up to my eyeballs in debt."
I'm not poor by any stretch of my imagination. Sure, I still have to work every day. But I also have a savings account that is growing quite nicely, two retirement plans (neither of which I can currently contribute to, but that's only because I don't work for the companies the plans are through, and besides, I hope to have a new plan I will contribute to with my new employer by the end of the year), and a (rented) townhouse with a spare bedroom and an extra room in the basement. And I certainly don't have to juggle my bills. And I'd say that there were at least two families in the room last night -- including that of the woman declaring all Pagans poor -- that are probably about in the same boat I'm in. (The only difference I'd expect to find is that they probably have less available spending money for impulse buying and other piddly stuff.)
Now, I'm sure there are legitimately poor Pagans. (There are certainly Pagans not living with the same level of financial comfort and luxry I have.) But I think that we Pagans (and probably American society as a whole, but I'm focused on Pagans right now) need to stop and think about how quickly we're grabbing that "poor" classification for ourselves. To me, our quickness to say we're poor is an indicator that we're still in bondage to the whole "more money is better" misconception. After all, as another religion's book wisely warns, "the love of money is the root of all evil." (I'm not sure I totally agree, but it's the root of a lot of evil.)
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Reflections on another blogger's thoughts about gay pride
I decided to check out The Last Debate this morning while waiting to start my tasks here at work this morning. I was glad I did, because I found that the author had written an excellent entry on his coming out experience and gay pride last week. I'd encourage everyone to go read it, and think it over for a bit. I think that most gay people can say that it's fairly representative of the inner turmoils we've all gone through -- maybe tougher in some cases, certainly milder in other cases.
Andy brings all of this up to make his point about "gay pride," and I think he's right on the money. Let me quote him: "We celebrate Gay Pride because we made it." I don't think I could have said it any better. In fact, anything I'm about to add (and you know I'm going to add my piece because, hey, this is my blog) cannot outshine that simple statement.
When I finally came out to myself during my senior year of college, I had no use for "gay pride." I could understand accepting that I'm gay and working to come to terms with it. But to be proud of it? To me, that made as much sense as being proud of having blue eyes -- and I often said as much.
Eventually, I came around to Andy's way of thinking. I realized I did have a lot to be proud of. I learned to denounce others' moralizing to define my own self-worth on my own terms. I learned (well, I'm still learning in some cases) to ignore the negative pronouncements of other, less-than-compassionate people rather than taking their consternation and condemnation to heart. I learned to not only survive in spite of all the negativity and the frequent lack of support, but to thrive in the midst of it. If that's not something to be proud of, I don't think there's anything at all worth being proud of.
It took me a while to come to that realization. But eventually, I learned to be proud of myself and what I've managed to accomplish with my life, and that includes all that I've done as a gay man. And I'm glad to hear other people like Andy echo similar sentiments.
Andy brings all of this up to make his point about "gay pride," and I think he's right on the money. Let me quote him: "We celebrate Gay Pride because we made it." I don't think I could have said it any better. In fact, anything I'm about to add (and you know I'm going to add my piece because, hey, this is my blog) cannot outshine that simple statement.
When I finally came out to myself during my senior year of college, I had no use for "gay pride." I could understand accepting that I'm gay and working to come to terms with it. But to be proud of it? To me, that made as much sense as being proud of having blue eyes -- and I often said as much.
Eventually, I came around to Andy's way of thinking. I realized I did have a lot to be proud of. I learned to denounce others' moralizing to define my own self-worth on my own terms. I learned (well, I'm still learning in some cases) to ignore the negative pronouncements of other, less-than-compassionate people rather than taking their consternation and condemnation to heart. I learned to not only survive in spite of all the negativity and the frequent lack of support, but to thrive in the midst of it. If that's not something to be proud of, I don't think there's anything at all worth being proud of.
It took me a while to come to that realization. But eventually, I learned to be proud of myself and what I've managed to accomplish with my life, and that includes all that I've done as a gay man. And I'm glad to hear other people like Andy echo similar sentiments.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Lost a "home" for religious discourse
The powers that be over at the Paintball Review Forums decided to permanently remove the Religion and Philosophy forum. (They also axed the World Politics forum, but I tended to stay out of there as a rule, and don't mind it's disappearance.) I have to admit that I'm a bit saddened by this. While I certainly respect PBR administration's right to make this decision -- and even admit that they probably thought long and hard before making the decision -- I can't think about the handful of awesome, respectful, and insightful posters there. I'm going to miss that.
Anyone who has spent any time at any sort of religious forums quickly discover that creating an atmosphere that attacts and keeps the kind of discourses people can truly enjoy are few and far between. So when you find such a place, you tend to latch on to it. Oh, don't get me wrong. The R/P forum at PBR had its problems But compared to a lot of places, it really managed to rise above the "noise" and get some great discussions going.
The only other forum that I can think of that might come close to that is the CPPA Forums. Unfortunately, it's a forum that tends to focus on Christianity and it's promotion -- and rightfully so. That means that I can't be quite as open and forthright as I felt I could be at PBR. So I guess I'll need to start looking for a new place.
Anyone who has spent any time at any sort of religious forums quickly discover that creating an atmosphere that attacts and keeps the kind of discourses people can truly enjoy are few and far between. So when you find such a place, you tend to latch on to it. Oh, don't get me wrong. The R/P forum at PBR had its problems But compared to a lot of places, it really managed to rise above the "noise" and get some great discussions going.
The only other forum that I can think of that might come close to that is the CPPA Forums. Unfortunately, it's a forum that tends to focus on Christianity and it's promotion -- and rightfully so. That means that I can't be quite as open and forthright as I felt I could be at PBR. So I guess I'll need to start looking for a new place.
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