White Evangelicals, This is Why People Are Through With You

Dear White Evangelicals,

I need to tell you something: People have had it with you.

They’re done.

They want nothing to do with you any longer, and here’s why:

They see your hypocrisy, your inconsistency, your incredibly selective mercy, and your thinly veiled supremacy.

For eight years they watched you relentlessly demonize a black President; a man faithfully married for 26 years; a doting father and husband without a hint of moral scandal or the slightest whiff of infidelity.

They watched you deny his personal faith convictions, argue his birthplace, and assail his character—all without cause or evidence. They saw you brandish Scriptures to malign him and use the laziest of racial stereotypes in criticizing him.

And through it all, White Evangelicals—you never once suggested that God placed him where he was,
you never publicly offered prayers for him and his family,
you never welcomed him to your Christian Universities,
you never gave him the benefit of the doubt in any instance,
you never spoke of offering him forgiveness or mercy,
your evangelists never publicly thanked God for his leadership,
your pastors never took to the pulpit to offer solidarity with him,
you never made any effort to affirm his humanity or show the love of Jesus to him in any quantifiable measure.

You violently opposed him at every single turn—without offering a single ounce of the grace you claim as the heart of your faith tradition. You jettisoned Jesus as you dispensed damnation on him.

And yet today, you openly give a “mulligan” to a white Republican man so riddled with depravity, so littered with extramarital affairs, so unapologetically vile, with such a vast resume of moral filth—that the mind boggles.

And the change in you is unmistakable. It has been an astonishing conversion to behold: a being born again.

With him, you suddenly find religion.
With him, you’re now willing to offer full absolution.
With him, all is forgiven without repentance or admission.
With him you’re suddenly able to see some invisible, deeply buried heart.
With him, sin has become unimportant, compassion no longer a requirement.
With him, you see only Providence.

And White Evangelicals, all those people who have had it with you—they see it all clearly.

They recognize the toxic source of your inconsistency.

They see that pigmentation and party are your sole deities.
They see that you aren’t interested in perpetuating the love of God or emulating the heart of Jesus.
They see that you aren’t burdened to love the least, or to be agents of compassion, or to care for your Muslim, gay, African, female, or poor neighbors as yourself.
They see that all you’re really interested in doing, is making a God in your own ivory image and demanding that the world bow down to it.
They recognize this all about white, Republican Jesus—not dark-skinned Jesus of Nazareth.

And I know you don’t realize it, but you’re digging your own grave in these days; the grave of your very faith tradition.

Your willingness to align yourself with cruelty is a costly marriage. Yes, you’ve gained a Supreme Court seat, a few months with the Presidency as a mouthpiece, and the cheap high of temporary power—but you’ve lost a whole lot more.

You’ve lost an audience with millions of wise, decent, good-hearted, faithful people with eyes to see this ugliness.
You’ve lost any moral high ground or spiritual authority with a generation.
You’ve lost any semblance of Christlikeness.
You’ve lost the plot.
And most of all you’ve lost your soul.

I know it’s likely you’ll dismiss these words. The fact that you’ve even made your bed with such malevolence, shows how far gone you are and how insulated you are from the reality in front of you.

But I had to at least try to reach you. It’s what Jesus would do.

Maybe you need to read what he said again—if he still matters to you.

[Source]

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Dear Arizona Restaurants…

Here’s a suggestion: how about designing your facilities with separate air conditioning systems for the dining area and the kitchen? Having only one system tuned to the kitchen temperature is the only explanation I can come up with as to why your dining areas are like meat lockers. ALL. YEAR. ROUND.

Leaving your establishment when it’s 65F out there and feeling warm after being in your restaurant is a definite sign that it’s TOO DAMN COLD inside.

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A Note About My Blog Headers

Fuckin’ Apple.

If you’re using Safari as your browser, I’ve noticed a bug. (A bug with an Apple product? Impossible!) If you refresh my page, the header image (which is supposed to randomly select an image from my library and display it) doesn’t refresh. I haven’t tested this with IE or Edge (and really don’t have any way to, since the only place I have access to those browsers is at work and my site is blocked there, so any of you IE/Edge users please let me know if it’s working) but it does work fine with Chrome.

UPDATE: Well apparently it isn’t a bug after all. Refreshing to get a new header only works when I’m logged in under my administrator account. So I don’t know how the refresh thing works now. Is there a time limit between new images? I guess I may have to contact the template designer for clarification.

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Quote of the Day

I think Apple has shown across multiple years and multiple products that they only care about making the keyboard thinner, and they will make some efforts to make the thin keyboard tolerable, but that they are no longer interested in keeping it a good keyboard if that means they can’t make it thinner. And so I just have to kind of resign myself to accept that.” ~ Marco Arment

PREACH, Sister!

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Quote of the Day

I don’t think the human race will survive the next thousand years, unless we spread into space. There are too many accidents that can befall life on a single planet. But I’m an optimist. We will reach out to the stars.” ~ Stephen Hawking (1942-2018)

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Who Are You?




I had been rooting for Bendela, but we all know what happened there…

(And for what it’s worth, IMHO Bendela showed more class, compassion, and humanity in those five minutes than I’ve seen in all of All Stars this season. Just sayin’.)

[polldaddy poll=9956734]

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Shower Thoughts

If you get pulled over and none of the five children in your car are wearing a seat belt you’re probably going to jail. But if you get pulled over and none of the 20 children in the vehicle are wearing seatbelts, you’re probably driving a school bus.

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Shower Thoughts

Trying to make the United States “the best country in the world” while slashing the education budget is like baking the best loaf of bread while setting fire to all the wheat fields.

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Proving Once Again That We Don’t Even Know What We Don’t Know

From NASA:

Other Juno science results released today include that the massive cyclones that surround Jupiter’s north and south poles are enduring atmospheric features and unlike anything else encountered in our solar system. The findings are part of a four-article collection on Juno science results being published in the March 8 edition of the journal Nature.

“These astonishing science results are yet another example of Jupiter’s curve balls, and a testimony to the value of exploring the unknown from a new perspective with next-generation instruments.  Juno’s unique orbit and evolutionary high-precision radio science and infrared technologies enabled these paradigm-shifting discoveries,” said Scott Bolton, principal investigator of Juno from the Southwest Research Institute, San Antonio. “Juno is only about one third the way through its primary mission, and already we are seeing the beginnings of a new Jupiter.”



North Vortex


South Vortex

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Where is the Passion?

One of the things I’ve been struggling with in this Trumpian episode of The Twilight Zone we now find ourselves living in is a complete and utter lack of passion about pretty much anything (my relationships notwithstanding) that I used to throw myself into with abandon.

I still enjoy writing/blogging (such that it is) and there are television shows I get caught up in, but when it comes down to actually creating, the fire’s gone out.

I have a friend (well, actually two friends) who gush over my painting and photography (one of whom has a fantasy of me opening my own gallery, bless her heart) and are constantly asking when I’m going to start putting brush to canvas or taking photos again. I tell them both that the Muses have (hopefully only temporarily, I tell even myself) forsaken me for whatever reason—but I worry sometimes that it goes deeper than that.

I’ve been in such a funk since the 2016 election I simply don’t care about creating much of anything any more. I mean, why bother? The world has gone to hell and the Cheeto-faced Shitgibbon in the White House is well on the way to undoing an entire generation’s worth of American progress and obliterating our country’s standing in the world in less than two years —with no end to this destruction in sight.

PAINTING

I simply have no passion. There is no fire burning within me to create the way it used to. I now consider the amount of work required to produce a painting and immediately think, “Ain’t nobody got time for that.” I shouldn’t be thinking of it as work, at all, for chrissake! It should be an expression of joy! (My last painting—Ben’s portrait—was actually done nearly ten years ago, so it can’t be based wholly on the illegitimate presidency of the Orange Russian Wig Stand, but this lack of desire to pick up a paint brush has certainly been exacerbated by it.) I’ve had other dry spells that have gone longer than ten years without producing a single painting, so I’m not worried that the Muses have abandoned me completely, but more and more I look at Ben’s portrait and catch myself wondering if that actually is my last painting.

PHOTOGRAPHY

I also can’t tell you the last time I went out with my camera—or even just my phone—for the express purpose of simply taking photos.

No, wait. That’s a lie. It was about ayear ago when we drove down to Picacho Peak to photograph the poppies. Prior to that it was December 2016 when I went out out to see the architecturally interesting White Tank Library.

In those rare instances when the photo bug has bitten me, more often than not I go to grab my camera and discover the battery pack is dead and needs to be charged. By the time it’s charged the urge has passed. (Granted, for 90% of the types of photography I do, my phone will suffice—and more and more it actually surpasses the results I get from my DSLR—so I can’t really use the dead battery defense as much as I’d like to, but you get the drift.)

I used to make photo books for those same friends as holiday gifts; this last year I hadn’t taken enough photos I considered worthy enough to even bother putting one together. I miss doing photography, but not yet enough to get me out and about and wanting to take photos simply for the sake of taking photos.

Don’t get me wrong. I still take hundreds of photos every year—but none are done with any planning or purpose. And damn few are what I would personally consider high art (worthy of actually printing out and framing).

My friends respond to my current lack-of-creativity with, “Well you need to do something to get your mind off this horror show.” Yes, I know. But right now I simply have absolutely no desire to make anything, and therein lies the rub.

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