“It Doesn’t Affect Me…”

This is interesting. Big tech/social media platforms hire people to moderate content that people upload to make sure it’s not overly hateful, violent, sexual, etc. Many people that do this kind of work suffer from anxiety, depression, night terrors, PTSD, and other severe mental health conditions from viewing disturbing videos. A couple observations:

What a sick and broken world we live in where thousands of people work every day just to filter out grotesque things that people not only do, but upload for other people to see. Not to mention those that consume it.

Second, how many times have you heard someone say “I can watch such and such – it doesn’t affect me…”? This is more concrete proof that what we watch does affect us. That’s just how our brains work. Maybe we don’t have a diagnosable condition from watching the worst of humanity several hours per day for a living, but if we’re honest I think we can diagnose the small changes to our countenances each time we consume something counter to our divine character.

From the article:

“Do you know what my brain looks like right now? Do you understand what we’re looking at? We’re not machines. We’re humans. We have emotions, and those emotions are deeply scarred by looking at (this stuff).”

Sometimes, when she thought about her job, she would imagine walking down a dark alley, surrounded by the worst of everything she saw. It was as if all of the violence and abuse had taken a physical form and assaulted her.

“All the evil of humanity, just raining in on you,” she says. “That’s what it felt like — like there was no escape. And then someone told you, ‘Well, you got to get back in there. Just keep on doing it.’”

Read the full article here:

https://www.theverge.com/2019/12/16/21021005/google-youtube-moderators-ptsd-accenture-violent-disturbing-content-interviews-video

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Make Room

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do you ever feel like
you’re in that big garbage compactor on Star Wars
surrounded by heaps of scrap metal opinions and elbows
standing in waters so murky you can’t even see your shoes
you’re pretty certain there’s something lurking beneath the surface
what’s worse is
the walls are closing in
you’re just searching for a pipe or a board
long enough and strong enough to prop between the oncoming mobs
one thing’s for sure
we’re all going to be a lot thinner

the china is flying in these tiny houses
I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a toilet
or a dinner table
can we make room
for discerning
in an age of pundits perpetually pushing perceptions
does everybody already know everything
is there any room left
for learning

before we jump straight to stake burning
and regurgitating our rehearsed rhetoric
can we make room
to mourn
for lamenting
this mortal condition
before we let our circumstances circumvent our identities
can we make room
for reckoning

these talking heads are deafening
desperate for dirty laundry to toss into a
24 hour spin cycle
7 days a week,
wash, rinse, repeat
is there no more need
for contemplation
I don’t think these problems are gonna be solved in 280 characters or less
is there any room left
for conversation
for nuance
for differences

we’re all so scared of what we’re blind to
what if we opened our eyes amid
our dispositions
and looked for something that wasn’t already written
on the inside of our eyelids
what if we moved the comfy couches in our minds off to the side
and made room
for the wrestle
what if we knocked over a few lamps in there

sometimes apologizing is better than apologetics
we’re all under construction
in all the dust and the chaos and the drilling
can we look past the aesthetics for just a second
can we make room
for the messes
for incompleteness
for progression

sometimes we don’t need the answers
we just need some space from the questions
can we make room
for a day of rest when
we just need to heal from this pain and sickness
can we frame these fragile family portraits in the proper context when
the glass is cracked because it has fallen to the floor for the fortieth time
the drywall anchors keep failing
because the weight of it all is just too much
or maybe we’re not installing them right
either way, it’s us
can we make room
for forgiveness

can we grab a paint brush
roll up our sleeves
and paint some of these walls
can we remember the hue
can we cut out some squares for windows
let some light in here
maybe we could remember the view

this foundation’s got a lot of broken bones
we can’t fix these broken homes without building
can we make room
for the master craftsman
can we consult the architect
instead of taking a jackhammer to the plumbing
just because we found a leaky faucet
can we make room
for becoming

and when we see someone struggling
stuck down there in that garbage pit
and there’s no C-3PO with a code to halt the crushing
can we throw them a new rope
show them the pull of peace
instead of the tug of war
can we raise them up
and invite them through the door
can we make room
for a new hope

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Mary, Did You Know?

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Mary, did you know
that your baby boy walked on water
he made quite a splash
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy saved our sons and daughters?
he laid down his very life
on their behalf

the child that you delivered
has delivered you

he gave sight to a blind man
matter of fact, he was so kind to man
that he gave light to all mankind
he not only calmed a storm with his hand
but he wrapped every drowning woman and man in life preservers
his life would serve as the only one that makes sense of ours
his resurrection would serve notice
to all principalities and powers
that they will never hold us down
the perfect brightness of our hope

Mary, did you know
that there were no depths he wouldn’t go
to show us
that we are loved more than the deepest
reaches of our weaknesses
to teach us
that we are more than wanderers
that we are more than conquerors
that we are more than we can even dream of
all these centuries of debate over humans and nature
to this day he’s the only one
that can change a human’s nature

remember that time he was gone for 40 days
and you were worried sick
the very incarnation of evil
was trying to convince him
to prove his divinity through sin
he instead proved it through sinlessness
the conviction
the fortitude
the integrity
the perfection
the willingness
is it any wonder
Mary, did you know
that he was the only one that
could be our savior

what am I saying?
you knew
with every awe-inspiring act
every time you saw the shadow of the cross fall into his path
you knew
it was all coming to pass
all the lashes he took
you would have taken every last one of them for him
I know how mothers love

you knew you were kissing the face of God
but it still couldn’t mitigate the pain
even the sovereign loftiness of mercy
couldn’t soften the burden
or calm the hurt
or counter the consummate cost of redemption
when he bled from every pore
there was nothing in your special mommy medicine drawer
that could soothe the wounds
you just had to endure in excruciating silence
as he turned the world’s greatest tragedy
into its greatest triumph

and now the blind have seen
the deaf have heard
we will all live again
the lame have leapt
the speechless have spoken
the praises of the Lamb
I pray you understand
that it was your sacrifice
that made the whole blessed intercession feasible
you found favor with God
and that favor was returned
with salvation and blessings and joy
unspeakable

Mary, it all came true
your baby boy, the miracle that was created within you
was the Lord of all creation

we’re all still trying to fathom
the magnitude of the magnificence
the volume of the volumes
still pondering and pontificating
still glowing in the glory
I’m so thankful, because you see
that blind man
was me

Mary, I know you know what I know
that your baby boy was heaven’s perfect Lamb
the precious sleeping child that you held
is the Great I Am

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What Happened to Women?

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not all superheroes wear capes
some wear shin guards
and headbands crafted from pre-wrap
and cleats laced with determination
sometimes lasers come out of feet
instead of eyes
did anyone else see the
the fireballs they unleashed

as those streaks of white lightning
and red and blue striped moxie
lit up the soccer fields of France
I said to my 5 year old daughter
look how they conquer
look at the fearlessness
see it’s not only men we cheer for it’s
not only men that make it onto our big screens
it’s not only men that can have big dreams

from afar we adored them as they scored
and soared to the very summit of sport
we marveled as they sparkled
we followed those rocket’s red glares
into a sky of triumph
and watched as three stars became four
then came the parades
the victory tour, the awards
the immortalization
forging their place in history
next to the 91, 99, and 15 teams
2019 world champions

now, it’s 2023
time to fire up the lasers
re-lace the cleats
and go for the three peat
only this time, come to find
that one of the European teams
is comprised completely
of players that only recently
identified as women
our ladies lose in the quarterfinals
to the eventual winners

2027 we return
to reclaim that holy golden grail
to prevail
we’re going to need to tip the scales
back in our favor
now to make the U.S. women’s national team
you need to have been born a male
you need to have the right level of testosterone
the proper bone density and muscle tone
and the proper swatch of X and Y chromosomes
to participate on this pitch
this
is the new patriarchy

my daughter, who’s now thirteen
appeals to me
and says Daddy
you told me there was a field for my dreams
what happened

how do I explain this
special kind of thievery
do I tell her
it turns out there’s nothing special about a woman
you’re just a man without the machinery

do I tell her
there can be no more tomboys
only toms and boys

because we were so transfixed on being woke
we nixed an entire gender
we conspired in the genocide of femininity
in the name of Equality we Acted
to destroy
and now the dissonance is deafening
this is the reckoning

what happens to the women’s world cup?
to the WNBA
to women’s gymnastics and track and figure skating
tennis, volleyball, cycling, softball and swimming
what happens when all the games they fought for so long
just to be able to play
are taken away

what happens when
all those little girls that were so inspired by their wonder women
grow up
and are left to wonder
what happened
to women

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What If We Found Life?

What if we found life

on Mars.

Not like aliens with the small necks and big green heads and black eyes, just something simple. A tiny little creature, what we might liken to a puppy here on Earth, but smaller. By all measurements we were able to obtain it would fit in the bowl of our cupped hands. Imagine the interest this would induce.

Because as humans, we understand that there’s something special about life.

We have entire branches of science dedicated to trying to figure out how life began, what makes it keep going, and where we might have come from.

We’re fascinated to learn about how resilient life can be, from extremophiles that survive in boiling waters near thermal vents in the ocean to penguins stumbling and sliding around the frozen tundras of Antarctica.

We spend the best of our days meandering around zoos, aquariums, and national parks, gawking in amazement at animals in all their variety. We even adopt certain kinds of them into our families and homes. A cat prowls across my desk as I write this. Persistently perplexed at why I stare at an inanimate screen instead of him, he stops directly in front of it, sits on my keyboard, and starts purring. He’s reminding me that he is life.

We spend millions of dollars on missions into space designed in part to detect life on other bodies in our Solar System. Just finding a single-celled prokaryote on one of the moons of Jupiter would be the discovery of the century. We cup our telescopic ears as far as we can hear out into our galaxy, hoping our radios are tuned to just the right frequency to pick up a faint riff from an extraterrestrial rock concert broadcasted 1000 light years ago.

We think we’ll know life when we see it.

Imagine if we sent a manned spacecraft to Mars to bring that tiny peculiar puppy back to Earth. Imagine the hero’s welcome – for both the astronaut and their precious cargo. Imagine the care and protection we would give this newly found life while trying to learn about the wonders of its existence. We’d do whatever it took to keep it alive.

Then, imagine if someone broke into the lab one night and killed it.

Imagine the outrage.

Because as humans, we understand that there’s something special about life.

What if we found life

and it was ours.

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We Keep Searching

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we keep searching
on this earth
we’ve got a lot of problems
and turbulence
we’re yearning for the permanence
of peace while worshipping
the world and short-circuiting
the firmament of our souls
dispersing bandaids over broken hearts
that might as well be broken dams
fervently fumbling for fulfillment in the flesh
but never feeling full

determined that we’re the answers to our own questions
asserting that we just need more time, more data
more likes, more status
THIS will give life meaning
certainly THESE are the ingredients
I mean, they keep telling me
that autonomy is far supreme to obedience

turning to pop stars instead of prophets
and pondering why we’re still lost in the stars
encircling ourselves in burning rings of fire
and murmuring that it’s getting hot in here
impertinently purging eternity to make room
for right now

thirsting for justice to fill these cups with
urgently hurling ourselves into understanding books
while swerving around the only book that understands us and
over-exerting ourselves trying to fix all the laws of the land
as if they could somehow fix all the flaws of man

consumed by our consumption
immortalized by our memes and
demoralized by our demons
squirming to circumvent the nets of our flix
and the inevitable consequences of our internet clicks
as if we don’t become what we normalize

God is only for funerals
and helping us complete our acronyms
OMG
look at these new high resolution pictures of eclipses on Jupiter
in awe of creation but cynical of its significance
we wince in insolence
as the politicians bicker about the incidents
the poets wistfully journal the predicaments
and the musicians petition their instruments
for any diminishing whims of winsomeness as we twist in the winds
of this…
cognitive dissonance

we keep hurting

we keep searching

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Final Summer Show Recap

Thank you Seattle!

What an awesome crowd and venue to close out the Fire Within Tour. I had to fight through a cold, couldn’t breathe that well, and sounded more congested than I would have liked, but I did my best and still had a blast!

Thanks again to Jennifer Thomas for having me open several of her amazing shows. Although our forms of artistic expression (piano and poetry) are different, we see the world with similar eyes and hearts and thus it’s always easy and fun to work with her. Her husband Will was also a powerhouse on the lighting, sound, and video for EVERY show. We couldn’t have done it without him. 👏👏👏

More takeaways from this whole experience:

I loved connecting with people face to face. When you’re the opening act, there’s always some (often large) percentage of the audience that has never heard of you. For me there’s the additional hurdle of performing something that there’s no established genre for. If I was a violinist or singer/songwriter for example at least people could be like “I’m not familiar with this person but I’m pretty sure I know what I’m in for here”… but in my case there’s always an element of having to win people over. I’m sure not everyone is won over, but it is cool to see some faces change. And I’ve gotten so many comments about things I said touching people and resonating in a way they’d never felt before. I always love hearing that, because that’s what this is really all about – finding intersections of truth on this long road of human experience.

I rehearsed a lot, and the preparation paid off. That doesn’t mean I was perfect, but unexpected things happen during performances – technical difficulties, someone walking around, kids making noise, getting emotional when saying something or seeing someone else get emotional, just to name a few. And when that stuff happens it’s easy to crack. I was always able to keep going through whatever distractions came up, and I attribute that to being well prepared – even though I didn’t even know what kinds of things I was preparing for. I think that’s a lesson for anything in life.

Most of all I just liked the experiences. Opening doors to new venues to see what wonders the night might bring. Opening hearts and sharing spaces with new people. Getting out of my comfort zone and being stretched a little. Learning things that I didn’t even know I didn’t know.

Another thing I don’t know is where this takes me next.

But I know that I’m going.

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From Stevie Nicks to Miley Cyrus – a Landslide

Stevie Nicks in her prime was before my time. But a voice like that can make time stand still. I’ve always enjoyed her music. She wrote the enduring hit “Landslide” in 1974 at the age of 26. Here are the lyrics that people were singing along to circa 1976, when the “Fleetwood Mac” album was at the top of the charts:

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm
Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too


Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too
I’m gettin’ older, too
Ah, take my love, take it down
Oh, climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
Oh, the landslide will bring it down

No matter your age, you probably just silently sang a wistful duet, Stevie’s slightly raspy yet melodically soothing voice guiding you through peaks and valleys of your own life.

Some would consider Miley Cyrus the millennial version of Stevie Nicks. Artistic merits can be debated, but there is a salient similitude at least in their vocal tonalities. In 2019, also at the age of 26, Miley is currently promoting an album called “She is Miley Cyrus”. Here’s what people are singing along to today:

Nasty, I’m so nasty, nasty
I’m nasty, I’m so motherf*cking nasty

Turn up your gratitude, turn down your attitude
I love my p*ssy, that means I got cattitude
If you don’t feel what I’m saying, I don’t f*ck with you
If you don’t feel what I’m saying, I don’t f*ck with you
(repeat ad nauseam)

Back up, you’re squashing my charisma
Why I gotta be so motherf*cking extra?
Back up, you’re squashing my charisma
Why I gotta be so motherf*cking extra?

(Get it, get it) I’m so nasty
(Cash Money) I’m nasty
(Get it, get it) I’m so nasty
(Cash Money) I’m so motherf*cking nasty

You’re just mad ’cause your hair is flat
(I’m so motherf*cking nasty)
You’re just mad ’cause your hair is flat
(I’m so motherf*cking nasty)

These are among the more pleasant lyrics you’ll find on her latest offering. Save your eyes and ears and take my word for it – it gets worse.

I tend to shy away from phrases like “the world’s going to hell in a handbasket” because let’s face it, said handbasket is always on fire and it’s always full of something. In fact, that phrase came into general use during the Civil War and I doubt a day has gone by without it being muttered by someone for some reason. But I do find it concerning to contrast what a popular singer in her mid 20’s sang about in the 70s compared to now. You can argue that it’s only one person, but if you expand the sample size you’ll find a common theme – today’s pop princesses are engaged in a crusade to see who can parade the crown of “nastiest” the most proudly. From what I can tell, that wasn’t the case 40 years ago.

I’m not here to condemn any of them. They’re artists, just trying to make sense of this human condition like the rest of us. But with great power comes great responsibility.

It’s one thing for individuals to buy into the idea that they can find fulfillment in foraging for flesh. To believe that the best way to achieve peak womanhood is to mimic the most reprehensible mannerisms of men. It’s another to sell this ideology to millions of young women who venerate your every tweet and emulate your every gyration. To teach them that feminism is vitriol and vanity rather than benevolence and virtue. That indignant nihilist is a higher identity than radiant daughter of God. With so many searching desperately for direction in the snow covered hills, this is what you choose to reflect back to them?

Miley performed a cover of “Landslide” in 2018 at an event honoring Fleetwood Mac. Stevie seemed to appreciate the tribute from someone whom she had influenced. In 40 years, when Miley is in her 60’s and a pop star of the 2050s glowingly serenades her with “I’m nasty, I’m so motherf*cking nasty…”, I wonder if she’ll feel the same about the millions that she has influenced.

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Real Power

I read an article yesterday written by a woman who left her husband and children and was enjoying her newfound sexual freedom. She specifically championed how empowering it was to have one-night stands and slam the door on her way out.

I don’t wish to single her out or vilify. I’ve actually encountered several similar sentiments recently, stemming from popular comedians to burgeoning podcasters. And it’s not like I go looking for this stuff. It’s pervasive. I used to wonder if it was really true when people would talk about this wave of radical feminism becoming more prominent. I don’t wonder anymore. It’s here. And it’s coming for families.

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Game of Drones

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did you know that in ancient Rome
a man named Commodus had amputees gathered from the city
brought to the Coliseum
and had them tied together so that he could beat them to death
and that this was entertainment
in the next episode some desperate souls were tied to boxes
wheeled out on dollies and nailed to crosses
animals were flogged into a frenzy to feast on flesh
and in the crowd they made bets
about which of the helpless men these beasts would feast on next

those barbarians
who would ever get together to watch people get slaughtered

anyway
who’s excited for the game of thrones finale?
8 seasons, 38 emmy awards
over 30 million viewers in 170 countries
uncountable thousands of deaths
50 meticulously orchestrated rapes
murdering pregnant women
burning little girls at the stake

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