July 2009 - November 2010

concerned. always seems to leave Queen Anne by cab. concerned but powerless. needs a long vacation far away from everyone. armed with explosives. someones listening in. Earthquake premonitions. stole a cola from the company fridge. this is torture. Inside the city itself the situation was becoming critical as supplies became exhausted and disease started to spread through the congested and physically weaken population. expect the best, accept the worst. we should go to Mars. need to pull myself together. I should find a way out. Leaving Queen Anne and not in a cab for once. big decisions are always hard to make. its all building to something i cant explain - yet. beginning to understand the fine line between fate and free will. into the inferno. all non essential functions have ceased, body going into survival mode. Lakeside. Slept wonderfully till i got stung by a bee. begging for the past. wearing pants, but running late. 4 5 9. Bought a flesh colored Christ that glows in the dark. loves that its raining. everything I touch turns to shit right now. on the way home from what should be home. sensations of digesting glass. I am my own wife. west side. There are many benefits to never saying what you really want to. just the way it is. very pleased with myself. considering life as a diamond trader. back to wishing I could be an asshole. can feel the rain coming. i put cheese in my hood what of it. might start commuting with a flame thrower. starting to think about West Seattle again. it wasn't a rock. The packing has begun. throats a little red, I'd better spray it. Loves that it seems like the past but cant help stressing over the future. in need of an unmonitored outlet. the coffee is very strong. perfect sites. King of the Lepers. I bet Nepal is nice this time of year. 5 days. Just got accused of being a part of the "Establishment". what happened? God bless the rains here in Washington. Goodbye Lucile. it's always a good day when I wake up from a dream that no one has died in. doesn't sell to the public. sometimes the Rhinoceroses wish they were watusis. brain pain. no idea what to do today...guess I'll go feed the fish. I'm ready. extremely volatile. Just started reading Ulysses. Master of the pumpkin. Guy on the bus points at a picture of pumpkins in the paper, turns to me and asks "do we eat this?" I really wish I had a giraffe. am I wrong to do what I do? "yeah sometimes you give me things to deal with and I give them back to you, that's my way of dealing with it". Did you know that January is "National Get A Colonic Month"? in a very strange place. Saturday morning cartoons are strange. nutty nougat - it does exist. Lost in a toy store. Process it. what happened? yes there is such a place, don't you know it's true? Aries wear hats, not to cover for baldness...but because we don't have a tail. Back from mass. Time to take on the Cyclops. Seven, 7 or VII? What do you say in a cover letter to an editor that openly admits to not reading them? Flow. Kickin it woodland style. "Oh, you're calling from the States, aye?" I'm nearly hit by a car everyday without fail one of these times its actually going to happen. if a doctor told me my heart was going to explode and I was going to die, I'd ask for a different doctor. I guess fascism isn't the answer. if you're looking for some semblance of order and reason in Little Saigon you're in the wrong place. might have an addiction to puzzles. are they drinking in the hospital? I really don't understand why people "follow" my twitter account, it's all nonsense. west coast. Saving the duwamish. remember "Ski Free"? damn the post office. oh sweet rejection. What is going on with the Fins? ill give you 2 sheeps and a brick for that ore. I don't recommend eating the house plants - they're poisonous. this morning the 7 smells of stale coffee, buttered popcorn and urine. Well that was surprisingly expensive. "excuse me, are you a brewer?" rush rush rush busy bee busy bee gets the wax and I'm sleeping with the termites. thinking about Julius Ceasar. every door in my apartment was ajar. Gonna play the basketball. So the intense shadow boxing at the bus stop was strange but not nearly as strange as the jumping shadow uppercut that followed. this goes well beyond vampirism. when death call I'm good I got call ID. Peppercorns, say it with me "Peppercorns". I wish it were raining. Cougars are a good thing. I need me a fishing pole. the bathroom smells like bacon. I'm ready. Seattle, oregon coast, redwoods, mt shasta, crater lake, seattle? Getting to white center shouldn't be this difficult. I think it's time to start drinking paint. There's a whole bottle of absinthe at my house and today is testing my will power. Back on land. Um, excuse me, there's something in my teeth. I'm satisfied with that ending. you gotta cook the devil out. Dear Pacific Ocean- good to see you again, it's been far too long. Encountered a bear on the highway. I always love a good shanty. Going to see a big hole filled with water on top of a mountain. "Home" is the most disturbing this I've seen in a long time. I think tomorrow might be the day. I feel naked. Wu-Tang will show me the way. apparently I'm irritable today - nothing personal. Wooden chicken. What do you think a "battle otter" looks like? Onzcwera a ga ina my aklweypboa rtda isa f uzcklwed!!!! I was hoping for skanks. Home turf. Heading to SODO for a little studio time. Infected - the system is down. Off to see Palin. Ugh I feel disgusting. So many butterflies. Kinda thinking my boss might be drunk. Why don't I live on farm yet? Well, here goes nothing. "I'm with the government and I'm here to help you." Wasted attempts to contact the tree have been fruitless. I don't want to be "that guy", I never want to be "that guy". Is frog butter in dairy or hygiene? Wrong turn in richland ended up at hanford. "With a big enough drill you can get through anything". Found the source. No the bar does not come with the apartment, that's mine! One turkey isn't enough. I'm really hoping for tacos.

October 2007-June 2009

waiting for a miracle. fermenting the dream. going to find out what happens when you mix nyquil with sudafed. still drunk from last night. wants another flesh colored Christ that glows in the dark. working out the demons. running from demons. about to cause a scene. waiting for a miracle. ready to drink blood. concerned about the Polar Bears. thinking about moving far far way....again. convinced that being here is some kind of spiritual surrender. waiting for a miracle. smells like hops. walking in line. wants to know everything there is to know about growing cereal grains. can see through time...it doesn't look good. "have you ever realized that no one is better than anyone else in the world, and in the act of realizing it, you feel better than everyone else?" trying to make you late. The terms are interchangeable. stalled trying to shift out of first. eating eggs. starting to feel better. waiting for a miracle. judged by Reckoner. worried. the mob. the walrus. late. angered the volcano and is now feeling the pain. not losing Hope. very pleased. in dire need of Puzzle Fighter. demands a salmon offering!!! somewhere between SDR and RGA. apathetic. 4 foot long salmon. calling on everyone to step up and help your fellow man, don't just look the other way. on the brink. grinding for the children. sandy. connected. waiting for a miracle. by the power of science. saturated with beef. the irresponsible president. industrious. still thinking about stencils. drinking vodka. going in through the mouth. wishes he was mechanized. think about the power stone. discontinued. still recovering. no longer imagining what could have been, but instead realizing what is. about to start throwing boots. securing the area. praying for rain. fed up with the snow. enchanted by the creepy eyes. cannot be free of all of the evils in this town. looking for rainy day women. paying the pizza guy in dimes and nickels. didn't sign up for any of this. speaks with his fists. spending the night with Lucile. preparing for change. knows, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. frostbitten by the fog. post modern. waitin on the 7. going to start buying cottage cheese in larger containers. Not sure why but I've been told to do so, so I will. contains less than 1% juice. never stops. "it's like God took our picture, before he kills us". lost myself. doesn't care if it hurts. mismatched socks. fork + brain = easier? thinking about Antarctica. needs to get an all white suit. judged. unbelievable cynical. God bless the 7. on a road shaped like a figure 8. The Sylvan Screen...if you don't know you should. offended. is. racing pigeons, that is all. where's my honey? uses pig by-products in his designs. solo, but not alone. just fucked himself up bad. seeking medical attention. there should be more pillows at work. might be sleeping with a mouse. suffering from urban overload. all alone and talking to myself. digging it so deep I'm hitting bedrock. west side. pining for days past. cover your eyes. needs to come up with $1K for a suit...I could be the phantom. has dreams that frighten me awake. back where i belong. et cetera, et cetera. celibate. boo guns, yeah dogs! "brains on the wall". do you think that the increased use of the symbol ♥ is a direct result of america's fear of the word love? doesn't talk to terrorists. Heat advisory in effect - vigilante. store was closed, no spikes today - vigilante pending. long like livestock. had a great night and didn't even see the show. had a great night and didn't even see the show. can't decide: seven pennies or two pennies and a nickel. psychologically healthy. will not accept failure as the only option. To=the. can still smell the camp fires. did not speak its name. wearing a lot of brown today. apocalypse dream. I guess that I just don't know. sometimes I guess it's too much to hope for the little things. dripping in apathy. some good times rust others shimmer forever.    uncertain how to move forward. 

I guess it's clear when I stopped waiting for that miracle.

This is why I love the internet

This makes me smile with my heart

I like how it's not only saying "don't let anything get you down" but also "someone else has been there and understands"

‎"Are you blind? --- Perhaps you need a baptism of pepper spray in your eyes to restore your vision."

As many of you probably know at this point Tuesday evening there was an unfortunate confrontation between Occupy Seattle protesters and the Seattle Police Department. In the altercation a pregnant woman, an 84 year old woman and a priest were all victims of pepper sprays. Here is the statement released by Rev. Rich Lang of University Temple United Methodist Church:

A PASTORAL LAMENT FOR MY COUNTRY

America, America, my country ‘tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty

Of thee I sing

America, oh America

America the Beautiful has fallen.

You could feel the tension and raw energy crinkling throughout the air as the marchers once again began their journey into downtown Seattle. The Occupy Movement is the prophetic voice of God calling out to the nation to “repent” and turn from its ways of corruption. Those who camp are a rag-tag, motley crew made up of mostly young adults, mostly unemployed, almost all of whom are alienated and cast out of America’s promise of liberty and justice for all. They are our canaries, the first fruits being devoured by the Beast of Empire.

The police were once conceived to be a citizen force created to serve and protect the public. Today however, the police have been militarized and view the populace as enemy combatants, as threats to their well being. The police, like our Armed Forces, are well trained, disciplined and exceptionally talented. They follow a chain of command and are increasingly apprenticed into a culture of institutional conformity. Because America has always affirmed the right of dissent, the role of the police is to keep the peace. They are trained to enter the protesting arena as unfeeling protectors of property and people. What has changed in our time is that the police are entering the arena of protest as agents of provocation. They push and shove at will, they ride their bicycles up the backs of protesters, they engage in verbal abuse. Their commanders allow this breach of discipline. Their comrades silently condone the bullying. The police become the agitators encouraging violence. It is as if they are spoiling for a fight --- a fight mind you against the citizenry, against the youth, the unemployed, and those who are trying to return America back to its promise, and dare I say it, return America to its covenant with God, “we hold these truths to be self evident …”

On Tuesday night a small group of the rag-tag campers of Seattle’s Occupy Movement left their camp to protest the destruction inflicted upon the Wall Street Occupy site. Throughout the march I, as a Pastor in full clergy alb, stole and cross, acted as a peacekeeper placing myself between the police line and the Occupy Movement. On four occasions I stepped between verbal battles between the police and the protesters. The point being that it was evident to all who I was and what my role was in this non-violent march of the few escorted by the many.

The incident was minor in nature. A girl, dressed in Anarchist black waving the Anarchist black flag was plastered side by side with an officer on the bike. They were jawboning each other. At one point her flag was thrust in his direction --- a provocation yes – threatening?—no. The officer grabbed the flag and in the pulling, pulled down the girl. Her friends reacted jumping in to pull her away from the officer. It was at this point that the first wave of pepper spray went off.

Point --- one might think the officer acted within reason, that the officer was suddenly threatened. But with what? By whom? The friends of the offender were grabbing for the girl, they were not grabbing at the police. Basically the officer, and his comrades, were trigger happy as if they couldn’t wait for just this moment. And so the spray went forth.

I leapt to the front and tried to place myself between the parties --- with spray in the air the protesters were also fleeing. Separation between the police line and the protesters was clearly visible … there was certainly no threat of the “mob” suddenly rampaging into the well armed police. The separation had occurred (as can be clearly seen on the video captured by King 5 News). But the spray continued. I walked between the lines, I was alone, I was in full clergy dress, everyone knew who I was and what I was --- with the protesters fleeing and the police line holding --- with my back to the police and my hands waving the protesters to get back --- alone in full alb, stole and cross --- six officers turned their spray on me thoroughly soaking my alb and then one officer hit me full throttle in the face.

I praise the courage and compassion, the discipline and the decency of the Occupy Movement. Out of the rag-tag mob came help, grabbing my hands, leading me (I was blind by then) to the wall and administering care and concern for my well being. The protesters were assembled around all the wounded, and maintained the discipline of nonviolence (granted the nonviolence was in behavior but not language). And they were not afraid. The spraying had been a baptism sealing them into the security of knowing that their prophecy of repentance was indeed the Spirit-Word through them --- it is as if they did not prophecy their very bones would melt within them. Against the wall in increasing pain and burning I realized I was in the midst of church.

The police, on the other hand, were afraid. Their quick use of chemical warfare reveals how cowardly they are. The unwillingness of their commanders to maintain discipline reveals how incompetent they are becoming --- the only tool in their bag is brutality and like a drunken raging father beating wife and kids, the police have increasingly disgraced themselves. Step by step they are being shaped into the front face of fascism, the emerging police state that protects the property interests of the Marie Antionette’s who have seized control of our government, commerce, media, military and increasingly the Church itself.

My question to my clergy colleagues is this: Where are you? How much longer can you preach without practice? How dare you remain protected in your sanctuary while your people (the rag-tag mob of the least, last and lost whom Jesus loved) are slaughtered doing that which God has commissioned you to do (prophecy!). Where are you? Who have you become in this age of baptism by pepper spray? Do you not know how much power you have to stop our national descent into chaos? Don’t you realize that the world is your parish and right before your eyes the Spirit of God is doing a new thing? Can’t you hear that God’s judgment is upon the land? God is against the thieves that bankrupted our nation. God is against the armies of the Beast who pillage other lands in our name, and turn and destroy our people on our own soil. Are you blind? --- Perhaps you need a baptism of pepper spray in your eyes to restore your vision.

And to the police I say this --- there are always the brutal ones in our midst. As colleagues you have the moral responsibility to police your own. If your commanders order you to brutalize your people you have a Higher Command that says, “disarm yourself, turn away from your sin, renounce the orders of unrighteousness.” And in doing so, cross the line, come over and join us because we are the winning side of history. And we welcome your repentance and heal you of your shame.

And to the church, beloved church I say, you cannot sing the hymns of faith if you are too afraid to live that faith. In Amos it says to silence your sacred assemblies and let JUSTICE burst forth. Our nation, with the nations of the world, are under an assault of tyranny and treason of the 1% against creation itself. You may not worship God until and unless you care for the image of God living in those tents and prophesying on your behalf. Once the Powers sweep the Tents away, if you dare to lift your voice even a peep, you too will be swept away. But the destiny of the church, the Body of Christ, is not one of quiet passivity and fear, our destiny is to bear witness having no fear of the Cross because even now we have crossed over into resurrection.

Rev. Rich Lang

University Temple United Methodist Church

Back in 1999 I was in a very similar place during the WTO protests in Seattle. I was photographing the situation for my college news paper and in an effort to get the best possible pictures I found myself in the middle of 4th and Pike, near a set of burning dumpsters, police fortified to the south, protesters to the north, when the canisters were deployed. The gas consumed everything. It was only a matter of moments before my eyes burned with a fury I've never felt before and I was blind. I stumbled around, unable to see who or what I might run into, when I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. I turned towards the person when suddenly a rush of water came over my face and I could see again. I looked at the man in front of me, searching for the right words, they never came. I said something like, "thank you so much." All he replied was, "we've got to stick together."

It was because of this memory that Rev. Lang's account really hit home for me. I can't thing of a more appropriate description of the event than to call it a baptism.

Things are getting desperate out there and it's only a matter of time before we can't ignore it any longer. As Lang said so well, "They are our canaries, the first fruits being devoured by the Beast of Empire." This is only the beginning and now that it has taken this path I'm not sure there is any stopping it. There will be more stand offs and more people will be victimized defending their right to speech. Don't just look away because it's unpleasant.

Photo: SeattlePI.com, Joshua Trujillo / AP

Just in case you're wondering

Here's what I do with my free time now. Say what you will but it has provided me with seemingly endless laughter:

 

 

Milestones

So I've finally made it to the halfway point in my current project. I'm not sure why I'm excited about that. It's only halfway to a rough draft that i'm sure will get revised 2-20 times over. So to say I'm halfway isn't really accurate. I'm more like 17%, maybe. I like milestones though. It makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. 

Here's a little excerpt:

     The whole month of November was a blur. I spent the days working any odd jobs I could find and when I couldn’t find anything I went and sat around at the Labor Ready. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but I’d been able to keep paying my bills and working a couple times a week with John gave me an amble tab at the bar.

     All month long my sister had been calling me. I never called her back because I knew what she’d say. “It’d be really great if you came out for Thanksgiving. Both your father and I would appreciate seeing you. I’ll even come pick you up if you want.” It was the same thing every year and for the past 5 years I’d just ignored her calls but when the day finally came I decided to go.

     I guess that’s one of the strange things about holidays. As much as you can say you hate the holidays when it comes down to it what you really hate is the idea of being alone for them.  And while she’d have been more than happy to drive across town to pick me up, I opted to take the long ride north on the 358.

     Now when people talk about the roughest buses in Seattle two are always mentioned before the rest, the 7 and the 358, and it’s usually a tossup as to which is actually worse. I’d say the major difference is that the 358 has less gang violence and more prostitution. Personally I’d rather deal with some ghetto punk running his mouth behind me than some cheap skank trying to rub up on my crotch. But that might just be me.

     Being as it was a holiday nothing was moving quickly. While the bus would usually come every ten to fifteen minutes it came once an hour. And with just my luck I’d missed the transfer by 5 minutes. After cursing the driver of my first bus for not going through a yellow light that very well could have been the difference in me having to waste an hour downtown or not, I walked down to Pioneer Square hoping that at least a convenience store would be open.

     I walked the length of downtown without encountering a single person on the sidewalk and only occasionally seeing a car drive by. All of the litter of the work week blew aimlessly in the cool breeze coming off the sound but no signs remained of those who caused it. Pigeons ruled this world.

     Pioneer Square was just as empty except for the occasional huddle of junkies or other types whose actions deny them the luxury of family. I went in the direction that these groups seemed to be more prevalent, hoping that meant something was open nearby.  Sure enough after a couple blocks I came across the Save Way Grocer.

     Save Way was one of the more interesting places in the city. It was too large to be considered a minimart but too small to be a grocery store. They stocked most of the basics that you’d find at a major grocery, however most of the products had spent so much time on the shelves their labels had faded away and dust coated the tops of the packaging. The only things that kept them in business were cigarettes and beer, and that’s all I needed of them.

     The only problem that I have with the place is that they have a strict policy of not selling single beers and since the city prohibits the sale of 40 ouncers in the neighborhood I had to buy a six-pack. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but my family abhors alcohol and as much as I’d say I couldn’t care less what they think of me, I never drank in their presence. Family dynamics are a funny thing.

     When I got out onto the sidewalk there was a circus of people loitering outside panhandling for anything they could come across. A man asked me for a beer and I offered to sell him half of what I’d just bought. He was happy to fork over the three dollars. I guess sometimes things do work out in my favor.

     I drank the other three beers quickly as I walked back up through the city. I avoided the main streets, knowing very well there weren’t any cops. But there was something more settling about the dark alleyways. I never felt comfortable on the wide sidewalks whether they were scattered with people or completely devoid of life.

     As I walked in the shadow of the skyscrapers I came across a young woman hiding behind a dumpster furiously trying to get a flame from a lighter that lacked the fuel necessary. I tried to walk loudly so as not to startle her, but she was so focused on her mission that I was within a few feet of her by the time she notice and she jumped in terror.

     “I’m not doing anything wrong! Get away from me!”

     “Chill out lady, I don’t care what you’re doing.”

     And with those few words her demeanor changed completely.

     “Hey do you have a lighter? Mine isn’t working. I think something’s wrong. I don’t know what it could be. I just bought this lighter yesterday. It was working fine this morning but now it doesn’t. I just bought it yesterday. I mean shouldn’t a lighter last more…”

     If I didn’t stop her she could have gone on forever, “yeah I’ve got one.”

     I handed her the lighter thinking that she just needed to light a cigarette, instead she pulled out a long piece of glass with a bubble at the end. “What did I just get myself into,” I thought to myself. She held the flame under the glass and began to rock it gently back and forth. After a few seconds the white substance inside burst into gas and began rapidly escaping into her lungs. The lighter after being used for so long became extremely hot and she dropped it into a nearby puddle out of shock as she continued to inhale deeply. As soon as she had stopped inhaling she exhaled a cloud of thick white smoke that smelt noxious like a hospital.

     She fumbled twice as she tried to pick up the lighter before I just grabbed it myself.

     “Thanks so much. I really needed that. You wanna hit?”

     “I don’t even know what you’re smoking in that thing, but I think not.”

     “This shit here is the best glass in Seattle. Get you high for days.”

     “Yeah I think I’m good on that.”

     During our exchange the drug was obviously taking over her. She began to fidget more and more and her eyes dilated into large onyx discs.  Her motions all seemed to be in fast forward as she gathered all her belongings.

     “So where are we off too?” she said as if it were the only logical question.

     “Eh, well I’ve got a bus to catch; I’m not sure what you’re doing.”

     “What! You’re just going to abandon me here after you get me all fucked up?”

     I started walking away backwards. “Look lady, I didn’t get you to do anything. You just asked me for a lighter.”

     She jogged a few steps to catch up, “Well what am I supposed to do now?”

     “I don’t know, hadn’t you thought about that before you did your thing back there?”

     “I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting a lighter.”

     As we crossed Seneca I started to walk faster, she had not problems keeping up.

     “Well you can’t follow me around all day. I’ve got things I have to do.”

     “What kind of things?”

     “Things. Why don’t you just wander around the square?”

     “Oh there’s nothing but junkies down there.” I had to bite my tongue. “They just want to use you until your shits gone and then bail. I don’t want that.”

     “What about the U District. I’m sure there’s plenty of people there your age.”

     “Huh, never been. How do I get there?”

     “Just hop on one of the 70’s. I’ll show you, it’s really easy.”

     Over the walk I told her of places to go while she’s out there; south campus, the Ave, anywhere that I wasn’t going to be. By the end she seemed excited to be going someplace new. We made it to the stop at University just as the 72 was pulling in.

     “Well this is your chariot.”

     She waved as she boarded the bus.  “Thanks!”

     I wondered briefly if I’d ever see her ever again, but was interrupted by the braking hiss of the 358.