2001-10-12 - 10:20 p.m.
#90: No Need for Fridays
Note to self: You know, it never ceases to amaze me how much progress is based around the theme of conflict and confrontation. And I don't mean just human beings, I mean everything in general. In order for things to grow there has to be a reason for it; and the struggle to fulfill (or even just find) that reason is part of the progress that makes that thing strong. A constant uphill battle in order to be refined to what is considered perfection. Isn't that rather odd? Why does humankind do this? For all its vaunted notions of grandeur, nobility and reaching out with the message of peace, human beings are still a very violent species. We measure progress in terms of what we have conquered, what we have forcibly plucked from the maws of our rivals to throw down into our own gullets. And sacrifices, there are always sacrifices made "for the greater good"; pawns thrown in and away, victims of a mindset that says, "While you are indeed valuable, you make a better stooge than a resource". Haven't we had enough yet? Perhaps it's time we learned to channel progress into more.... peaceable solutions? Not to sound like a leftover hippy reject from the 60s or anything. It's just a thought, one that's barely worth cogitating since it's probably being voiced by several million Americans right now but hey! I felt like writing that.
Contrary to all my expectations, Friday is rapidly becoming my personalised "extreme pain" day of the week. I guess it had to happen sooner or later.... When all the days of your week are basically free, with no technical "work" or "off" days, you'd better expect that some kind of karmic retribution will come about to bite you on your fat swollen ass. And just as I was starting to get comfortable too. But in any case, the point: Yes, the point. The point is, Friday has suddenly becoming a nexus for all those missed "work days" and is setting to apply red hot needles of pain directly into my brain as penance for my lack of positive action. To whit: two Fridays ago was the coming of the summer season and the first signs of the forthcoming hot weather. I do not like the hot weather. Not New Zealand hot weather, at any rate. Sure it's rather mild compared to other countries (especially the summers we had back in Adelaide, Australia.... Living just south of a desert made sure summers stayed in the high 30s and 40s zone. Gum tree explosions were a regularity in those parts...) but what it lacks in potency, in more than makes up in deceptive plotting. Yes, plotting. Y'see I'm sure that many years ago, back when this house was being built on a summer day much like this one, there was the master builder (let's call him.... "Robbo") and the architect (let's call him.... "Robbo". With an accent) and they had a conversation that went somewhat like this:
Architect: Hey Robbo.
Master Builder: Yeah, Robbo?
Architect: I reckon this house don't need air conditioning. Whadyasay?
Master Builder: Sounds good, Robbo. Let's break for lunch.
And so this house, this grand sweeping, two storey semi-mansion of a house with a garden, a spa, a two car garage, a wooden patio, a great view of the city, and a little puppy dog named Timmy, was built without an air conditioner. Those stupid, stupid bastards. The only people stupider than them who built this house, was us for buying it. I mean, I'm even using the word "stupider". And incorrect grammar and syntax for the sentence previous. How stupid is that? But to continue.... This house was rigged from the start by the hell demon forces under the command of New Zealand summer. Yes this.... SENTIENT Kiwi summer has had a plan all this time. An ingenious plan, to trick the common New Zealand household to think that they can exist without an air conditioner by lulling them into a false sense of "Gosh this is a mildly hot summer day!"-ism.... And then striking with burning hot days that feel like a bonfire of coals and hot oil dashed upon the dainty skin of the average New Zealander! And then.... disappearing once again when those New Zealanders are about to reach the phone for an air conditioner install repairman.... A never ending cycle of harassment! And it doesn't help that this house was built on top of a hill, thereby catching most of the suns rays all through the day and staying at a constantly uncomfortable temperature no matter where you moved around the house. Curse you, summer! One day I'll overthrow your evil regime and expose your scheme to the entire world! Or at least New Zealand. Well, Auckland to be precise. And to people who don't have air conditioners. Yes, it will be a day long coming....
So. Summer start. On Friday. Friday losing appeal points because of that. But more was to come, much to my facial grimace. Onto next Friday (ie last week Friday)!
(had a massive break here of a week before coming back to write up the rest of my entry.... That's what happens when you get interrupted in the middle of an entry to go to some Christian Youth gathering [horror of horrors] as well as being a lazy-assed SOB who has a penchant for not finishing what he started. Also got dragged away by the crazy forces of EB and Steve [welcome back to New Zealand, btw! Sorry I wasn't enthusiastic on the Tuesday I first saw you again, but I was feeling a mite tired from being woken up at 10AM. eheh] on Thursday to go for a day of Zorbing [did not bother to participate.... rolling down giant plastic balls filled with water looks fun, but it's expensive] as well as luging [sliding down steep hills on little carts at breakneck speed with only a helmet as protection. No brakes! No brakes! Just kidding] in the city of Rotorua [which is still the hive of scum and villainy I described in this entry]. Biggest highlight of the day, besides finding out the fact that luging is one of the most fun one can have sitting down, was finding a copy of The Longest Journey, the best adventure game of 2000 that nobody played. And it's mine! All mine! EXPLETIVES GALORE!)
Okay, nothing happened much on that Friday beyond the fact that I had to go to some sort of family dinner with people supposed related to me whom I had never laid eyes on in my entire life (except once, maybe... But that was a while ago). You know. THAT sort of dinner. The kind of dinner where everybody sits around the table in a kind of embarrassed silence that clearly says that they'd rather not be there and would have preferred to stay in for a quiet evening vegetating in front of the television, instead. Or maybe it was just me, because all the adults were having a wonderful time chatting with one another while I played lightsaber duels with my chopsticks. I wonder if this is the source of the problem of my not being able to grow up: the inability to communicate well with people older than I am. Nah, it must be their fault. Yeah. But in any case, that was that particular Friday in a nutshell. The food was not half bad though, I'd have to say, and they brought out the dishes in quick order which greatly minimised the quiet time in waiting between food items.
So when he rang up on Thursday night, I proudly exclaimed that I was not able to go to the meeting because of that dinner and apologised profusely for such. But my friend, being the tricky devil that he was, asked me if I could get out of it, to which I replied, "No, not at all I'm afraid. It's a family dinner thing (flashback to last weeks dinner. shudder)". At which point he said, "Why don't you ask you mom if you can be excused?" and THAT was the point of my downfall. Because I knew that if I asked my mother, she would have DEFINITELY said yes to me going out on Friday. So I tried for a sly, cunning approach and told him that I would give him her answer tomorrow, saying that she had gone to sleep already and couldn't be disturbed. I was frankly quite proud of my ingenuity: engineering a situation in which he could not POSSIBLY check up on my lie if I did so the next day. There was no way he could have done anything in the short span of time to that Friday evening meet....
Which was why I was caught completely flatfooted by his counter attack, ringing up my mother before I was awake (and the first to reach the phone) and telling her AAAAALL about the wonderful Christian Youth Fellowship that was happening so close by to our house and how it was an opportunity that did not come up very often at ALL. And so when I awoke, the first thing I saw was a note attached to my computer screen (my computer is just across from my bed.... seems to be a common setup for most people who own PCs) upon which was written my mothers neatly printed words: graciously allowing me to spend that Friday evening in the grace of God and saying that she would explain my absence from the dinner that night.
I'm rather glad she had decided to go out for a while at that time, otherwise she may have been privy to the loudest expletive yet to come from my lips. My plans seem to have a habit of becoming undone thanks to relentlessly well-meaning Christian people. I wonder if that's a sign?
In any event, I steeled myself for the rest of the day for the evening to come. First, I ignored it by replaying through Final Fantasy 8. Given the number of particular stats and abilities you have to pay attention to while playing the game, it's very easy to forget almost everything else while caught in its grip. After a while of that, I moved to writing in my journal (hence the first half of this entry BEFORE I was picked up and tossed at the Christians) and talked with people on ICQ to be comforted of my burden. Despite the temptation to run away and take up the offer of certain people who offered me a way out, I decided upon the more honourable path of staying put and waiting for my Christian friend. Just call me a Lawful Evil kinda guy: once I make a contract I'll fulfill the deed to the letter.... As long as there are dire consequences for NOT fulfilling them to the letter, anyway. Which is why I keep wondering if it's a complete coincidence that there's a character in the Baldurs Gate series who is of the same Lawful Evil compulsion and is named "Edwin". Not only that, he's also a red mage, which is incredibly ironic given that the online nick I commonly give myself is "Omahdon" (those of you into classic 80s cartoons, I'm sure you can guess where it's from). Ah, I'll just scratch it up to "not completely unpleasant coincidence".
Went on a tangent again, harumph. So Friday evening came, I got picked up by my Christian friend (Mitchell) and we drove over to Meadowbanks (which was not at ALL close to Howick) to attend the meet. The drive was mainly uneventful, a period of silence backed up by the barely audible chattering on Radio RIMA, the all-Christian radio station. Yeah, he was really into it, all right. When we got there, the first thing that happened.... Was a barbeque! Or the tail end of one anyway. Yes, this may have been a gathering of Christians, but they knew how to burn animal flesh and tear hunks of meat with their teeth like anybody else! Okay, seriously for a moment, I didn't feel uncomfortable in the situation at all. Nobody was trying to "convert" me, everybody was just happily chatting away and it was a perfectly natural outdoor barbeque type setting. True, some of the subject matter was strange (ranging from topics like, "So what's your testimony on how you got saved?" to "Have you ever thought about why a decentralised system like Silicon Valley succeeded on the western side of the American continent while similar businesses with a more structured hierarchy failed miserably in the east?" and so forth) but most of it was just the talk of adolescents and young adults who are just out to have a good time. And Christians are, on the whole, charming, intelligent, witty and beautiful people with elan and grace (of God); so no wonder it is that I'm part of this elite membership.
*crickets chirp*
Nevermind, I didn't think that particular lie would stick to me properly, anyway. It's kinda a shame too, considering the large number of humans of the female persuasion in that group. ATTRACTIVE females, to boot. I know it's probably not something you should think about in that kinda setting but rwwooor. Ahem. But after the barbeque it was time to head inside the house where we sat down to listen to the guest speaker for the next hour and a half or so. But first! The song and worship! And despite the fact that I hadn't heard the songs before, it's not particularly hard to pick the rhythm.... Call it a side effect of years of singing in both Pentecostal Church and Anglican Chapel settings. After about an hour of that (you can really stretch three songs by singing them three times over as a whole, then singing the chorus at the end of each song thrice as well as going into a "speaking in tongues" trance at the end of those choruses. Christians have an obsession with the number three. I leave it to you, gentle reader, to figure it out) THEN it was time for the guest speaker to talk, and I settled in for about an hour and half of tedium on the cold hard floor of the kitchen (the fellowship took place at someones house, and the lounge/sermon area was directly connected to the kitchen. So my position was kinda like the "backstage" of the "podium" if one were to think of the traditional setup of modern churches).
Well the speaker was pretty good, to be perfectly honest. It's probably not everybody's cup of tea to hear about "conversions to the way of God" and stuff, but the directness and down to earth nature with which he spoke about it gave it a certain charm that probably won't translate so well into an electronic journal that has a habit of twisting events into a more sarcastic version of their former selves. But I'll try to sum up the best that I can, while those of you looking for the sarcastic bits will probably skip the next paragraph or two. William Briskys first encounter with Christianity was as a young lawyer trying to gain some influence in the small town he was living in so that he could get more clients in through his door. The best way he found was to join a lot of councils and clubs, and letting word of mouth through the members of those social groups work for him. Eventually he found himself on the church council despite the fact that he wasn't Christian and regularly avoided going to church; this happened for several reasons: one was that his wife convinced him to go, and two was that the council was just about to be formed, so by joining early he could actually become one of the chairmen on the council and have greater clout as a lawyer than he already had up to then. So driven by spousal relations and the prospect of booming business, Bill joined the council despite knowing very little of what being a Christian meant. The catch was, he had to come to church every Sunday for both the council meeting as well as to be seen by the congregation on a regular basis. Like I said before, those Christians are a devious bunch, oh yes they are.
So William Brisky had to go to church, that didn't necessarily mean he had become a Christian, just that he was a regular church goer. To fastforward his story a bit here, he didn't become a Christian until much later when his marriage was falling apart, his children were either ambivalent to him or hated his guts and his business was doing quite well. Through a series of dreams and encounters with pastors from different churches however, he was convinced that SOMETHING was influencing him to go to a certain church to attend what's called a "healing service" (which in laymens terms, is a service that requires people to fall on the ground and flail their limbs while babbling incoherently. It's a Christian thing). He was of course, mildly disturbed by such proceedings, but was convinced to go up to the pastor (along with other people of the congregation) in order to receive the anointing. And he did. And so that's the story of how he became a Christian. Okay so I paraphrased a lot and summed 40 minutes in just two paragraphs, but give me a break. I don't have a photographic memory and have a habit of forgetting anything that's happened in the last hour or so. That's not a good combination at all, really.
Anyway, after that he went on to anecdotes about his Christian life, how he became a pastor and so forth, but I kinda tuned out a bit there. There were some funny stories in amongst all that, but I don't really remember enough about them to give an accurate account here. What I *do* recall however, was the point in the talk where he paused, and then said "What I want to do now is to challenge you and what you believe it means to be Christian. A lot of what I'm going to say next you may not like, but I hope that despite this you'll continue to love me as a brother of the Lord.". Paraphrasing a bit of course. This didn't sound like a good start to mine ears, and indeed it was not. For that was the point he started making a checklist of things and actions that were considered sinful. I really don't like talks like that. To be fair, he did say he was trying to challenge us (his reasoning was that if I came away thinking "well that was a pleasant sermon" he'd failed his job as a preacher. makes sense if you think about it) but I still don't like talks like that because it makes me uncomfortable being a Christian and also makes me wonder if I *am* a Christian at all. Actually that last bit is probably more rhetorical than anything else, but it also makes me wonder that if I'm not a Christian, what will I be like if I do happen upon the "grace of God"? Will I become some kind of grade A bible thumping wanker or something? What Brisky said next somewhat supports that fact....
So the checklist started off with the usual stuff that's considered sinful.... You know: homosexuality, drinking alcohol to excess, sex before marriage, putting other things before God etc. etc. which was already enough to make me shift about in my cross legged position in acute discomfort. But then he went ON to say more stuff that's (reputedly) in the bible but I had never heard of any of it before in my entire life until that moment: Muslims and other religions (but he kept mentioning Muslims over and over for some reason) are living in sin because they don't believe that Jesus is the son of God, which makes me wonder what Jews would think about that particular sentiment: considering that they were the ones chosen as Gods people long before Christians came about and don't believe in the legitimacy of Jesus' heritage. I guess all that is an extension of "you shall not worship any false idols" commandment.... But then he went on to broaden the range of what is considered "false idols". Martial arts somehow managed to get lampooned into all that, as it was a discipline that "invited foreign spirits into your body"; and it was the same with stuff like New Age-ism for worshipping nature when they should be worshipping the one who creating it and so forth.
Therefore, by the time it came about for the usual "come forward to the altar and be saved" bit of the service, I *really* did not want to go up there. Unfortunately, Mitchell is indeed a most enthusiastic sport about giving the "unwashed masses a chance", which meant that I was in for the longest five minutes of my life as he kept coming and going from the side of the preacher, inviting me to come up and be blessed by the Lord. The close proximity I had to the front of the hall probably didn't help much either, and I really couldn't just turn about and run away: that would be conspicuous and undignified. But I stood my ground, telling him that I couldn't go up due to "certain reasons", not having the bravery or honesty to give him a whole lot of flak for trying to push me into this. Fortunately, the service was quickly over after that and I was free.... To hang around for another 2 hours as Mitchell had passed the responsibility of taking me back home to someone else who lived closer by to my place but looked like she was in absolutely no hurry to go. Gyp. Made half-hearted attempts at light conversation after the rather heavy tail end of the sermon before finally ringing up my mother to pick me up.... Probably not the best idea considering the fact that it was night and she didn't know the area well. Well, at least I finally got home at 11:30PM or so.... More time than I wanted to stay at that place, really.
So now we come to this Friday. Anything bad happen today? Unfortunately for me, yes. Probably nothing that reinforced the rough "exponential curve" rule I threw out up there at the start of this entry, but it was enough to make me huddle in my closet for a while and have a good cry. I tend to overreact to a lot of things in that way, I have to admit. It's a good thing I hadn't woken up any earlier, otherwise then day could have been even worse than it already was. O.o Ah well, I think I'll go off and play a bit of The Longest Journey for a while to forget my problems. To the Run-Away-From-Reality-Mobile! *leaps and drives away*
