Wednesday, February 1, 2006 | by nathan

Bryon F$%&ing Chambers

So Bryon’s left for France. I’m sitting here listening to the CD I made him.

song: “Hero In Your Own Hometown” by Mary Chapin Carpenter

We had a going-away party for him at the house on Saturday night. I got too drunk and into a weird mood, but I think everyone had a good time. I honestly don’t remember enough of it to know. Aside from the alcohol, the whole deal was an absolute whirl. It’s all such a blur of people and faces and tours of the house and a really intense couple of conversations, which, luckily, I remember quite well. And to the people who left cigarette butts on my sun porch - you are on my list. Not that you’re reading this, but…

Last week Bryon and I had dinner at my mom’s house two nights in a row, which was great, as it reminded me of old times when he used to stay with us. He was coming out then, and I was just becoming a believer.

He’s always been around, like a brother. That’s what we have called each other for eight years now - brothers. I introduce him as such to people, and he introduces me that way. I’m going to miss the shit out of him while he’s gone.

song: “Time After Time” (live) by Nichole Nordeman

So I’ve been in a wonky mood all week, because I haven’t felt well, and Bryon’s gone, and I have been asking myself a lot of questions, like, Do I want to be a graduate assistant again next year? and What the hell am I doing trying to be a writer? A student? A normal, functioning member of society? The whole shut-in thing doesn’t sound horrible.

Except that part where the sun keeps coming up every morning, and time keeps passing, and I feel as if I would die if I didn’t get out of bed and put words on paper, and interact, at least a little, with these wonderful people I have been given in my life.

I’ve been reading a lot about premillenial dispensationalism lately because I was possessed with this idea of writing a novel about the “end of the world” - like an apocalyptic fiction but without the apocalypse. Because I think that whole strand of Christianity that focuses endlessly on the end of the world, on the Rapture and the Second Coming is extremely - shall we be kind and say - confused about the priorities of Christianity. Mostly, it is a spiritualizing of one’s own hysteria, and I think it is no coincidence that this particular theological outlook gained a great deal of popularity during and since the Cold War.

song: “Sky Fits Heaven” by Madonna

The problem that I had with the very little I read of the Left Behind series was that there was very little talk of Christian compassion, or kindness, or the importance of loving people. It was mostly about evangelism, which, while fine, sometimes tends to have very little to do with the Greatest Commandments. The protagonists lie, steal, and cheat to achieve their objectives when it comes to “fighting evil,” which drives me crazy. I remember very little, as this was years ago, but I remember a scene where the protagonists steal thousands of dollars in computer equipment, etc. from the enemy’s lair in order to set up a website for this great evangelist. I mean, hello?

I just want to write this novel where all this horrible, end-of-the-world stuff is happening, and the characters have to deal with it, and with the problems of faith, and of humanity, in the context of what feels like - literally - the end of the world. Just between you and me I want to use this story to show the failings of overly dogmatic systems of belief - religious and otherwise - and the problems inherent in ignoring the plight of Third World people, of the poor and downtrodden, which we do at our own spiritual peril.

But we’ll just keep that between us.

I have a few early thoughts about the plot, but I have to work on Jess’s story right now, as it is imminent in my mind, and since I am doing it for a class.

I may post the first chapter or two here in a little bit, just to see if anybody responds…still mulling that one over….

song: “Late Night Conversation” by Josh Rouse

Enjoy your flight, Bryon. Be safe, and have a wonderful French meal for me when you land…

Fambly, Writer