Other People's Problems

Sometimes I think I have problems.

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Me on Immigration

In Ft. Wright Kentucky I purchased the Rodrigo y Gabriela CD. It was an impulse buy. I spotted it out of the corner of my eye in the Latin section. The Latin section was nearly as big as the Country section. Remember, this was Ft. Wright, Kentucky. If they're here, they're not going anywhere.

In my book, I call immigrants the high octane fuel of the US economic engine. I still stick by that. They work harder than us. Period.

That doesn't mean I have to like illegal immigrants. If terrorism is a threat - and I believe it is - and if it's such a threat that the US has launched a global war on terror and invaded two countries, shouldn't we at least secure our borders and know who is here? Or at least try an itsy bit?

No, amnesty for Mexican illegals isn't fair for the Hungarian who has been waiting in Budapest for the last couple years. The US and Mexico do have a special relationship. We've fought and changed or borders. We've intermingled our culture and intermarried our lives. There's economic lines that stretch across the border. Mexicans are special to us and we to them and that should be acknowledged. Not fair to the Hungarian, but the way it is. His country has a special historical relationship with Austria, right?

Looking at the Rodrigo y Gabriela CD I thought something again. US folks were are against illegals or against immigrants at all are called racist. But what about the Mexicans themselves. Looking at Rodrgio or Gabriela or any of the leaders of South America here or here or here or here, none of them look like the men or woman that I see working around here. The guys in the links above could be a meeting of the Cincinnati Rotary by the looks of them. The Mexicans I know and see stand about 5'6" max, have barrel chests, and whose profiles look one generation removed from an Aztec urn.

Mexico is exporting it's race problem. Call them the racists, not the people who get skittish hearing "para Espanol marke dos" when they call Cincinnati Bell.

For me. I like the Mexicans that are here. They seem nice. Let more of them in. As long as we know who they are.

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The Purpose Driven Life - Chapter Four

Didn't mean to be rude about comments yesterday - two people say in my words "the jack-booted squelching of dissent". I thought I was just being polite.

But on with day four. I five pages, the author tells me that I'm going to die and my earthly existence is temporary and my temporal possessions are ephemeral and that I'll be carried away to an afterlife where all this doesn't matter. Well, if I truly believed that - in my bones - I wouldn't have picked up the book. That's the key to it all. Isn't it? In fact. That would be the first step.

My ire is getting up with this book for a number of reaosns. First hte layout of the book is just plain - suburaban. I'm using that too often, but it just is. The words aren't printed black, but some redish color. The chapter titles take up half a page with supporting quotes and a chapter number underlying them. There's little pull out quotes on each page. Most egregious is a little form at the beginning of the book labelled "My Covenant". It's suppose to be my contract with the author - his signature is printed on a line just for him - to finish out these forty days. You see - a committment written down is most powerful.

I'm written a book. I know when it's being stretched to justify the next price break.

Anyway, I know life is temporary. It eternity I wrestle with. The books were are blunt. Unartful. Uncrafted. And trite.

As no-brainer reminded me, chapter fours point was better sung by an aged rock-a-billy singer and a former child of the 70s junkies lyrics.


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Purpose Driven Life - Day 3

Here's my point to ponder: Living on purpose is the path to peace.

Agreed. No argument here. I'm much happier when I have a to-do list in the morning and check things off. It gives me a direction.

This chapter asked "What Drives me?"

I guess I have a couple drivers right now. At home, I want to make like a Chinese restaurant special. At work, serve an underserved segment of the public - middle income, middle class people.

The beginning of this chapter mentions a couple things that drive many people - 1. guilt, 2. resentment and anger, 3. fear, 4. materialism, and 5. a need for approval. Yes, Mr. Won, I'll have a number 2, a number 3, and a number 5. Please throw in some duck sauce. No - not to go. I'll sit here and wallow in it.

This book says my purpose should be whatever God says it is. I'm a little uncomfortable with that. What if my purpose is to die to teach someone a lesson. I'd hate to be one of kids at My Lai who died to teach the world the horrors of war. First off, people should already know that - that's why there's books. Second, people being people - the lesson is quickly forgotten. Or the lessons are misinterpreted. My take on the 30th anniversary of the Kent State shootings: Don't throw rocks at people with guns. You'll lose! Probably not what others thought the lesson was.

So no thanks. Nihilism isn't for me, but I think I'll come up with my own raison d'etra.

Some housekeeping: I always appreciate comments. They make me feel paid attention to. However, I usually won't enter into a dialogue. I have to discuss everything in my life. In this little corner of it - I dominate the conversation. Plus, I don't want to talk religion with anyone. I'll just piss you off. Just wait.

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Purpose Driven Day Two

So my 40 days and 40 nights just aren't going to be all in a row. One thing that bugged me about this Purpose Driven Life book is the evangelical centered aspect of it. In the intro it states that 40 days are needed for spiritual renewal to take shape. It gives several examples from the bible like this is a big revelation. But those from a liturgical perspective have known this for a millinemum or so. It's called lent. My problem with the evangelical perspective is that it's often about Lent (without calling it that - too Popish) with never a Mardi Gras. The problem I have with the secularized world is that it's always Mardi Gras but never Lent.

But that may be a quibble. On Day two I'm to mediate (don't think the author would like that word) I'm to ponder that God created me on purpose. I'm not an accident, the book states.

There's definitely an appealing side to this. Powerful actually. Anytime a negative thought enters my head I tell myself I'm living this life for a purpose...a mission. It seems to take the edge off. There's always a nagging thought in my head - since I was a kid - that there's something I will do. There's some destiny I was made for. Something more than public school, state college, then a 20- year work a day existence in at fabric lined cube. I still have that feeling.

But I'm not quite convinced. If there's a God I can more easily accept one that created me, but that's it. He wound me up like a little mechanical man then set me off to bump through life while he went into the other room to catch some tv. The idea of a nanny God who over me, watches my every movement with love and compassion - then lets me do every stupid thing I've ever done - just doesn't jibe with me. If pain and suffering is in the world for a purpose known only to God, I'm not sure there isn't a better way for Him to get His point across. Maybe He could try a power point presentation.

But until then: I'm not an accident.

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