Sunday, April 30, 2006 | by nathan

It’s Just A Bumper Sticker

There is a house for sale on the street behind ours, and I am trying to get someone I know to buy it. I don’t have anyone in mind, really; it’s just that it’s such a cute house that I want to go over there all the time, and for that to happen, the easiest thing would be for someone I know to buy it. John looked at it and said it was too small. Then today I got Sara Gowdy to come over with Erica to look at it too; she also thought it was a bit small for her needs.

At any rate. Sara and Erica came over at 2, just as Cleveland Neighborhood’s annual "Spring Fling" was starting. This is one of the many, many block parties our neighborhood has every year.

As we were walking down to the gazebo at the center of the neighborhood, the one at the end of our street, I looked over at a car in the driveway of a house a few down from ours. On the back window was a bumper sticker something like this:

That’s not it exactly, but I think you get the picture. Erica said we should get a marker and draw a dress on the guy, too. Mostly, I was wondering where the nearest black market rocket grenade launcher might be.

It’s just a bumper sticker. Rationally, I know that. It’s just a stupid piece of paper with some stickum on it; also, it is someone saying that I am not as welcome as they are in this country, that my relationship is less important, less valuable, less authentic, and less human than theirs. For the first time, I felt that Brian and I were unwelcome - worse, unsafe - in our neighborhood.

"Overreacting much, Nathan? Can you not just see this challenge as a way to learn something about forgiveness?" Why, that is the loveliest possible thought you are having, isn’t it? I do not actually believe that we are unsafe in our neighborhood, but to see that kind of hatred spewing out at me from a bumper sticker, feeling that the person who slapped that shit on the back of the car probably got a kind of self-satisfied rush when he did it, and to know that people feel that they don’t need to know me at all in order to judge me, or to hate me, or deny me equal rights, or my basic human dignity; well. You go learn something about forgiveness; I’m going to learn something about gasoline and razor blades.

On the way back up the street Erica and Sara held hands and offered to mug in the offending car’s driveway. We all sat on the front porch for awhile and then headed out to Pearl’s Lakeside for margaritas. It was still bothering me, and Brian and I got to talking about it on the way home.

I think that the owner of the car does not actually live in the neighborhood, as I have never noticed the car or the offending sticker. Still bothers me, though; it’s such a hateful thing to have out there. Sure, people have a right to express themselves or their lovely little political beliefs in any way they see fit. Really. Brian tries very hard to be compassionate and understanding, and he said that some of the stickers on my car may be seen as aggressive or offensive to others; for example, my John Kerry sticker (I refuse to give up), or my HRC sticker, which would just a weird-looking yellow equals sign on a blue field if you didn’t know what it was. And, of course, my "Wake Forest Alumni" one, which is only offensive if you’re a Duke fan.

Brian tried to make the argument that the people with the sticker were probably as put-off and offended by my stickers - if they understood them - as I was by theirs. But I disagreed; none of my stuff is aggressive, hateful stuff that is basically designed to make an entire group of people feel like shit about themselves and their desire for equal rights and protection under the law.

I will never ask someone to change their beliefs, because I do not want anyone doing this to me. And I really, really do not believe in censorship. But why would you have something like that? Why would you think it’s a good idea - or, say, within the spirit of the Greatest Commandment - to go out of your way to express something that is so actively hateful, and that in all likelihood does not affect a single person that you actually know?

I know it’s just a bumper sticker, and the person who owns the car may not live here. But it made me feel unwelcome and unwanted on my own goddamn street, even if for a little while. And while I am just about the worst Christian that there is, I feel fairly certain that doing something that is so overtly hateful to gay people is probably not something that makes Jesus want to get out his pom-poms and cheer you on.

Disagree with me; fine. Think I’m a douche bag, fine. If you know me and feel that you can speak honestly, all of this is Okay with me. You go out of your way to send me or my people the message that we are not welcome - spend $4 on a bumper sticker that is more or less NIMBY all over again - and we have a problem. It’s just not one I know how to solve, though I am sure all this ‘righteous’ anger I’m feeling is not going to get me anywhere too productive if I follow it blindly.

Part of me wants to take them cookies, because I think that this would be something that Jesus or Mary or Dr. King might do; part of me wants to pour sugar and M-80’s in their gas tank.

Mostly I feel like Kathy Bates in that scene in Fried Green Tomatoes. Remember this one? She’s walking out of the grocery store and this guy just knocks all of the groceries out of her hands, then calls her a bitch instead of helping her pick them back up. She stands there, crying, saying "I don’t understand" over and over. I kinda feel like that. 

…And we’re praying: "Help me. Help me. Help me." 

Sunday, April 30, 2006 | by nathan

::screaming with so much joy::

So, the best news ever today.

EVER. Okay, well, some of the best news possible under our current administration.

Strangers With Candy teaser trailer was released by ThinkFilm.

See it here.  

Friday, April 28, 2006 | by nathan

L’Acqua Calda

This morning at McDonald’s as we were leaving OKC:

Brian: Do you want anything? I’m just getting a cup of coffee.

Me: (pulling a bag of pomegranate tea out of my computer bag): Just ask them for a cup of hot water. (He pulls up to the window).

Brian: Can we just get a cup of hot water, please?

Guy: Water?

At which point the guy in the window passes him a nice cup of ice water, which he passes to me.

Brian: (hands me the ice water, then looks back in the window) Actually we needed hot water. Hot. Like for brewing tea.

Guy: Water? (passes Bri another cup of ice water, who then passes me the second cup of ice water, so that now I am balancing them, like plates in a circus performance).

Me: Oh forget it!

But on the upside, at least I had plenty of water with which to take my allergy meds. Also, a monstrous need to pee once we got to Gainesville. But hey.

Friday, April 28, 2006 | by nathan

Planet….Schmanet….Janet

It’s loud where I am; The Planet in Dallas. This is where Brian’s company keeps its servers, and as he is the reigning Queen of IT for his company, he had to come down to Dallas today to fix a faulty server. Buildings full of servers, as it turns out, are deafeningly loud. Which I suspected, as the tiny (by comparison) room we have in Broadcast World at OU is crazy noisy.

So Brian sort of kidnapped me - okay, I was warned two days in advance, sure, but - and we came to D-town, which is one of my
favorite places on Earth.

I love Oklahoma CIty; really, really I do. Many of the people I love are there, I know how to get anywhere using any mode of transportation, and there is plenty to do, but Dallas is its own world. I used to hate it. For some reason, in my late teens and early 20’s, when I would come here all I saw was the horrible traffic, the smog, the sprawl, the overabundance of people who seemed to really, really love the President. As far as I was concerned, this was where people came to get tattoos, six point beer, and porn.

Then last summer we brought Dylan down here to go to Station 4 and the gay strip, and my mind began to change. On our last trip to IKEA to get stuff for the house I was like, "I could live in Dallas."

I’m afraid that I’m going to go back tomorrow and want to relocate as soon as possible. But that is not really feasible right now, which is probably a good thing, as I would like for us to be making more money before we move, if we ever do. Also, I would like to actually finish a Master’s degree for once; I can live with the fact that Yale beat me. I will not be defeated by the University of Oklahoma. Just not gonna happen.

In the meantime I can look forward to the following in Dallas:

• meals at Chipotle, Monica’s, and Cafe Brazil
• Union Jack and the rest of gay world.
• The general coolness of a lot of Dallas architecture.
• Deep Ellum
• hanging out in a hotel room with my guy later on tonight. Always fun. *wink*

As this trip was kind of last minute we are still chewing on what we would like to do tonight and this afternoon. Family dinner is tomorrow at the Flynns’, so we will be leaving in time for that. In the meantime, Dallas is our oyster, so long as Brian can get all his technological wrongness wrapped up. Which he can, ’cause he’s a badass.

Thursday, April 27, 2006 | by nathan

Minorities Joined Together Make A Majority

President W is speaking at Oklahoma State University’s graduation this year. Erica’s fiance, Alex, is getting ready to graduate, and so she and I had a hard core hate-on of Bush on the phone yesterday.

I remember how, when I was at Wake, the speaker lineup for graduation went something like this:

2001: Barbara Bush

2002, my graduation: John McCain

2003: Colin Powell

They broke the streak in 2004 by having Arnold Palmer speak, but still - are Democrats just not doing graduation speeches? Because I, for one, would love to hear this one.

What is the President going to have to say, anyway? "War on Terror blah blah blah strategeries blah blah blah deserving poor blah blah blah."

A woman at work hates Bush more than I do, which I honestly did not think was possible. She suggested we protest the speech with signs that say "OSU Sucks…And So Does Bush."

I’m thinking that when the revolution comes, it needs to be all about politeness and good manners, because if we really want to change the way we feel about the people we dislike, we should change the way we treat them, and there has been far too much scolding, and yelling, and fear-mongering, and co-opting of the name of God, and "othering." Is there a way to have an inclusive, nonviolent, polite revolution? Or is rioting the only thing that’s going to get it done?

Either way, I don’t know whether to join in the planned protests of OSU’s graduation, or stay at home and watch the speech on C-Span. I do know that Bill O’Reilly is on one of the TVs in the lab right now, and he is lambasting NPR for having a "misleading report" on one of its shows. On Fox News. Fox News is going to call NPR to the carpet on accuracy. Really? That’s special.

I continue to be amazed at the obvious, glaring contradictions in the neocons’ philosophical viewpoint - or rather, the true and honest lack thereof. Especially the one that says "We most closely represent the political manifestation of a Christian worldview in the world, but we are powerful, and we can make up the truth to fit our ideological agenda."

The Republicans use religious rhetoric to much greater effect than any other political party in history. By doing so they have convinced good religious folks in middle America that what matters theologically is that they oppose stem cell research and gay marriage, that they believe that Jesus wants us to be in Iraq, and probably Iran too.

The problem is that, no matter the religious convictions of the individuals in the ruling party, power corrupts; power demands more power. There can never, ever, ever be enough. For all their use of Christian language to attract voters, this is the most postmodern rulership this country has ever had. They have made it abundantly clear that they do not believe that the truth matters. The truth is that there were no WMD in Iraq, and Saddam Hussein had absolutely nothing to do with 9/11; this did not matter so much as their desire to wage this war. They needed us to believe that everything was going great in New Orleans, even though it so clearly was not, and so that is what they told us, and expected us to believe. They tell us the war is going well, when far too many people are dying.

They cannot even really be called liars; lying is nonexistent when you don’t really care what the truth is. Actually now that I think about it it kind of reeks of Nietzsche: the will to truth is not so important as the will to power.

Either way, it’s not Christian. Let’s not even mention the total lack of compassion for, say, the poor. Or gays. Women. Iraqis.

I was listening to Margaret Cho’s new book on my iPod last week, and while I like a lot of what she says, and certainly laughed my ass off, I disagree that hating the haters is the way to proceed. We must be willing to do what our enemies have not; namely, to transcend our hatred and turn it into something useful and transformative. I am completely unsure what this looks like, partly because it has been done so rarely. Dr. King and Ghandi may be a good place to start looking.

In the meantime, wonderful art is being created about all of this, and I do believe that if we act in redemptive ways, redemption will happen. After all, if you want to change the way you feel about someone, you have to change the way you treat them. Call it Forgiveness, Step 1.

Step 2? Not sure. I really wish it was "Throw Rocks at Bush’s limo as it drives by through Stillwater," but somehow I just believe that this cannot be the answer. So I’ll show up in Stillwater with signs and slogans, not necessarily believing they will work, but I will try not to be mean, and I will try to have faith that my voice is audible, even if I feel like a Who shouting at big, stupid Horton.

Light the candles, pass out water, bring some fruit and some money. Make sure you are registered to vote and that you do so, early, and often.  

Thursday, April 27, 2006 | by nathan

More On This Later, but…

It’s On Like Donkey Kong. Bring signs, and water, and some fruit to share, your Bible, a good camera, and a few dollars just in case. We’re havin’ a revolution.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006 | by nathan

Still Not Ready To Make Nice

Some notes to University of Oklahoma journalism students. Especially those whose concentration is PR or Advertising:

(1) There is absolutely no need to slam your ID down in front of the computer lab attendant. Similarly, there is no reason to get angry when I tell you that you may not check in using a driver’s license. I think this is a stupid rule, too, but I’m not going to get in trouble with my boss because your dumb ass was too stupid or lazy to put your student ID card in your wallet.

(2) Leave the goddamn drinks outside. And don’t argue with me when I ask you to do this. The computers - and all software with which they are so conveniently loaded so as to save your parents the expense of buying it for you - cost more than your entire education. And who do you think your parents are suing when you spill your Big Gulp on an iMac keyboard and lose your senior project and get a minor electric shock? Yes, me, that’s who.

(3) If someone is in broadcasting master control and the dubbing machine is running, you may safely assume that they are dubbing a DVD. What you may not do is ask, "Can I turn this off? I have to copy a tape." Also, when that person says, "no, that machine is in use and you may not stop it," you may not go get that person’s boss to try to make them stop what they are doing and let you do what you have to do, which, despite what you may think, is NOT more important than what anyone else is doing. 

(4) If there is a class happening in the studio, that means you are not welcome to waltz in, sit down at the Director’s computer, and start doing all your iNews shit. And when someone tries to politely tell you that there is a class happening, and can you please move, you really should not act as if he is not there. Because this is a really good way to get a pinch on the back of the neck or a twisted ear, or, worse, a Spanish lady yelling at you.

(5) My job is not to do your work for you. Yes, I know how to work InDesign, Photoshop, Toast, Firefox, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, SPSS, Safari, Final Draft, and the whole host of programs available to you. But so should you. You had to take classes about these programs. If you didn’t listen - sorry. I’m not doing your work for you. I don’t get paid enough.

AND LAST:

(6) Good manners and kindness will take you much, much further in the world than bitchiness and entitlement. Also, the main religious traditions of the world - including the particular brand of "Christianity" to which your homeboy George W. subscribes - say that you should stop being an asshole right away, lest you get to Heaven and have to sit in the Mean People’s Room, with Ann Coulter and Leona Helmsley and Dick Cheney.

I mean, ask you: who raised these people? Do they have parents, or do they grow out of the Mean People Garden, fully grown and entitled, self-aggrandizing, and rude? If I, at five years old, had acted the way some of the students in the Gaylord School of Journalism act on a daily basis, my ass would have got beat down.  

I get that it’s almost finals, and everyone is stressed, but time spent abusing your fellow students - or worse, the graduate students who very well may be grading you in the near future - is time better spent studying.  

But I may be a little grouchy, too. 

Tuesday, April 25, 2006 | by nathan

Whoops.

This girl who is a sophomore at Harvard - and who just inked a six-figure, two-book deal - will have to change some of the language in her novel, as it too closely mirrors the work of author Megan McCafferty.

I understand the struggle there; certainly a lot of authors I love have greatly influenced the style of my writing, and have on occasion said things so perfectly that I was - and am - at a loss as to how to say these same things for myself. In fact, the work on both the books I am working on right now is going incredibly slowly as I take out things that sound too much like the people I love to read, which is like taking two steps forward, and then another back, as I write a piece, then have to take huge chunks out that are not me so much as authors I read a lot.

Never said I wasn’t derivative. But I’m trying not to be, and I’m not seeking publication until I am sure I have done all I can to refine my voice as much as possible to something that is actually my voice. This is incredibly difficult, in fact one of the most difficult things I do, as I am pretty desperate to be published. Not so desperate, however, that I am going to allow myself to write "Me Talk Pretty One Day - Part 2" and pass it off as my own to publishers. 

I totally understand how Ms. Viswanathan was able to do what she did, but I sort of think that even your greenest writers know when they are aping someone else’s style. Writing is teaching me a lot about patience; I must patiently work on my craft, and wait until I can honestly say my words are as much mine as possible before giving them to the world. It’s a pisser, believe me, but it’s something that every writer must learn: to pay attention, and to be deeply, deeply honest. Still learning.

Of course, on the other end of this spectrum are people whose first novels I read, and in response I can only offer the following bit of criticism: "If you want to be a writer, you have to read. A lot. Everything you can." Because I want to say, "No one who has ever read a novel would think that what you have done here is okay in a literary sense."

So which is worse? Lampooning or aping other writers rather than finding your authentic voice, or writing without reading, not knowing the rules, or the forms, or the craft at all? I tend to think the first, while certainly clumsy and embarassing, is a step on the road to real writing, as long as you do not allow yourself to get stuck there; the second is a train ride to frustrated obscurity. Would you encourage a person who hates going to museums to become a painter?

Tuesday, April 25, 2006 | by nathan

Sleep! That’s Where I’m A Viking!

It’s 10:13 a.m. and I just got out of bed. Why? Because the air conditioning still isn’t fixed and it is really, really difficult to get to sleep at night. Luckily there were some pretty severe thunderstorms last night which, aside from producing some of the coolest tornado footage I have seen in years, cooled things down a lot.

Mom was on her way home from work last night and her car hydroplaned on the interstate, hitting a guardrail and royally fucking up her car. She was okay, fortunately, but she had to wait an hour for a highway patrolman to come help her, which took an hour, in which the guy drove by twice. When he did stop he was laughing, and kept laughing, right in her face, then proceeded to give her a $218 ticket, saying that it was her fault that she hydroplaned. "I couldn’t see ten feet in front of my car," she said. "I wasn’t speeding. You can hydroplane at any speed."

John and Crystal went to get her, as I was in class when all this happened, and John apparently had some words with the HiPo about responding to calls in a timely fashion and not laughing at people who have been in horribly traumatic car accidents. I wish I could have been there for that. Anyway, mom’s fighting the ticket, but her car is still fucked up. Crystal has AAA so she is going to have it towed off the side of the interstate today. Mom was pretty shaken up when I talked to her, and also mad at me for not calling her all weekend. Ugh.

Anyway, I think it’s going to be all right; grandpa loaned mom the money to pay for the repairs to the car, and provided Crystal can get it towed it should be fixed soon enough. In the meantime I wish bad stuff would stop happening to my mom. 

Sunday, April 23, 2006 | by nathan

Not Ready To Make Nice

Some people think that they are too good to listen to the Dixie Chicks, or to country music in general. These people - especially the political progressives among you - need to get over it and listen to their new song, "Not Ready To Make Nice," which is one of the coolest, angriest, most intense country songs I have listened to in a long time.

For my part I am wondering as to the message of the song in my own life. When I listen to it I start thinking about all the things in my life that have made me angry, and whose fault those things are. This leads to the conversations with no one. And the getting pissed, and reading blogs I shouldn’t, and kind of hating the Democrats a little for not helping us out more, and the thinking my thinky little thoughts, like how the next time I hear a certain broadcaster/blogger talk about how "liberals just want to kill babies," I may shove a broken-up beer bottle up his ass. I do not want to dismiss any anger I have out of hand, and I really don’t want to trash any other bloggers since I promised not to (and have done pretty well, considering how much I want to trash some of them), but I am totally unsure as to how to use it toward anything constructive, unless you count conjuring up the kind of images that I am sure make Jesus want to take vodka shots straight out of an ashtray ‘constructive.’

The A/C is out. It’s hot. And I’m pissed as hell about global warming. And I can’t sleep. Thinking a tequila shot might help us out here, but a little scared to go there.