FCPs and Latte Dolls

Overwhelmed by the idea of being our next President? Why not take up pole dancing? Put off by the role of wife and mother, but don't have the skills to go into business for yourself? Have you considered a career in the porn industry?

I just finished reading a fantastic book by Ariel Levy titled "Female Chauvinist Pigs". The book is a report on a "neo-feminist" wave that adopts the deplorable imagery and identifiers that men used to force on women and calls it "being liberated". It depicts rather depressing accounts of "feminists" who seem to think that the most progressive thing they can do as women is to take on the worst qualities of men.

Within hours of finishing the book, a friend sent me a link to a news story on Austin's newest sensation, The Latte Dolls. It's an outdoor coffee stand where scantily clad women serve coffee to horny men. Their motto is "for those who like it HOT."

So, here's my question: Am I taking this too seriously, or is this a serious problem? Is there something depressing and even dangerous that happens when "sexy" is less about who a person is and more about the image they present? Or do I just need to lighten up?

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

-Wendell Berry

Live and Learn

I'm a city kid. Spent most of my growing up in Chitown. I like big buildings and elevated trains and a plethora of restaurants and book shops and music stores. I like the pace and feel of it. I like the steady hum. When I'm in a city, it feels like home.

So, if someone had sat me down a decade ago and suggested that I might want to try a couple of days away in the middle of Arkansas, a place where Little Rock is the Big City, I'd most likely have nodded politely and been on my way.

Unless that somebody was a firecracker named Rachel. Then I'd have given it a shot.

And boy, would I be glad I did.

Because for the initial bit of culture shock and and the 60+ strangers and the inside jokes and stories and the general overwhelming nature of it all (I asked my now father-in-law for his blessing in marrying Rachel), it was a pretty enjoyable holiday.

But not as much as the one two years later. Or the one after that. And so on.

Every two years some 60+ people gather in a place I'd just have soon passed by a decade ago. And every time we meet, I enjoy it more than the last time we met. And I live a little more. And I learn a little more. About these 60+ people. About myself. About what it means to be family.

In a few days, Rachel and Harry and I will pack up the mini-van and head off to Cord, AR. We'll spend a couple of days playing cards and fishing and walking in the woods and talking a lot and eating a lot and relaxing a lot.

And I will thank God for the blessing of a family I didn't know I needed. For some 60+ people who gather in a place that feels like home.

Peace To You

Our prayer is for new life, peace, reconciliation, and healing for Austin and for our broken world. God’s people have a word for that new life, peace, reconciliation, and healing -- it is “shalom”. Saying “shalom” purposefully means to offer a peace treaty, a pledge to live for the other’s well-being, a covenant to desire and seek the good life of God’s favor together. Our desire as a community is to offer “shalom” to you.

These words are found at our Immanuel Austin website and, as a community, we take them seriously. Peace and peacemaking have been on my mind a lot this week (see previous blog) as I have seen those I love struggle to make peace. Tonight, Immanuel will gather, as a community, to worship. We will take time in communion to share the bread and wine as symbols of the body and blood we share. We will offer it as a peace treaty to one another and we will remember that we are called outside of ourselves to offer peace to everyone we meet.

Though we're strangers, still I love you
I love you more than your mask
And you know you have to trust this to be true
And I know that's much to ask
But lay down your fears, come and join this feast
He has called us here, you and me

And may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls
This drought has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In the Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you

And though I love you, still we're strangers
Prisoners in these lonely hearts
And though our blindness separates us
Still His light shines in the dark

And His outstretched arms are still strong enough to reach
Behind these prison bars to set us free

So may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls the drought has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In this Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you

And may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Like those little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls the draught has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In the Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you

Blessed Are The Peacemakers

No matter who succeeds or fails, the peacemakers will always suffer. -Old Irish proverb

This one has been on my mind a lot this week. Not because I do all that a good a job of peacemaking, but because of my great admiration for those that do. Raise a glass to the peacemakers. And remember Christ's blood when you do.