Not "Frog", "Kraut"!

Just some quick thoughts...My brain is being used for a lot of other stuff, and is, therefore, not functioning at its peak. Brain, you gelatinous lump of formerly-gray matter! I’ll kick you!

I am working hot and heavy on my doctoral work. (I have been granted vacation in 2007 to go back to Kansas and become Dr. Insert name here.) The pressure’s on as I must keep my options for employment open (this is my last year in Pforzheim.)

(A parenthetical comment kind of day.) Does this mean that when I talk to people today, it will always seem like an aside? Not to self: don’t let the people hear the more insulting of the asides today. I could get hurt.

Sidenote: Chris, my Lebesnpartner, does this thing that is so friggin’ cute when we are snuggling. This is hard to say...um, he’s cute because he does a Miss Piggy imitation when we’re alone. Before rolling your eyes, you have to just assume that it IS actually cute. Go with me here... He calls me “mon frog” and then, in a really high falsetto says “kissy kissy.” When I start to tickle him, he does that gravelly “mean Miss Piggy” voice, and pulling back to hit me screams “Hiiiiii-Ya”, the ‘Ya’ punctuating by an actual love tap. Ok, writing about it, I have to admit it is potentially one of those “you had to be there” moments, but, nonetheless, it is so cute and makes me laugh every time. And, when I laugh, that just means that does it more and more. Have I been in Germany too long? Must be, because I don’t remember The Muppet Show being particularly cute.

Mia plays with Chris' Dad, Klaus.

Homeland Insecurity

Honestly, if I ever dreamed of the time that Chris and I would sit together doing guided meditation, I must have quickly stopped myself, self-chiding at the absolute impossibility of such a notion. I am the meditator. I have been doing it for years, and it has truly helped me find myself in some form. I have never done it consistently enough, though...consistency being an ever-present theme in my life. So, meditation seems a facet of my life as it is. But Chris? Chris is not exactly what I would consider a "spiritual" person, to use a pop term. He is just not interested in such things. But, lately, he has become interested in Buddhism, and meditation being one of its major tenants, he is going to give it a try.

So, sitting on our bed, listening to the dulcet tones of some man named Korn something, we meditated together. I would never have imagined this day. But, without any prodding or manipulation, he was sitting next to me, meditating. Wow, my life really is changing.

What's next? Tantric sex? God, I could only hope.

Last night was another Tannhäuser. I swear, I must have a really soft heart these days, because, as the men's chorus began the famous "beglückt darf' nun dich, o Heimat, ich schauen", a tear began to roll down my face. "Blest, I may now look on thee, oh, my native land", the beginning lines of the Pilgrim's Chorus, sung as the old Pilgrims return from their long journeys abroad, touches me sometimes because I feel, in some way, that I am on a jjourney in a foreign land. I go through moods where I cannot imagine living in America. Then, though, there is this vacillation to a homesickness that I sometimes feel. I long for going to the top of the overpass that stands near our house in Argenta, and to look out over the Great Plains, seeing the farm fields and great sky for miles on end.

And I could really go for a good hamburger now and again, but anyway...

Repent!

I know that there are a lot of people out there that think that the End Times are here, because there are more forest fires every year, or tornadoes, or hurricanes, or whatever. Being in the company of one of these people is always amusing in some odd sort of way, especially in that, because of their honest sincerity, you can’t help but wonder whether 1: they’re completely insane or 2: they are right.

Having grown up Pentecostal, attending three services a week each for more than 2 hours at a time, clapping my hands along to the music, speaking in Tongues, saying an occasional “Hallelujah”, I know what this culture is. And, there is no denying, that part of this mentality has properly been grilled into my brain. Seeing bad doomday films à la “Left Behind” as a child, being cared past all recognition, and in my own church, was enough to ingrain in me the fear that the End Times ARE actually near and that I should watch out.

Now that I am an adult, and much more on the liberal end of the Christian spectrum, my belief that the End Times are near is just not there anymore. I needn’t be focused on such trivialities anyway. Every Christian culture since immediately after Christ’s death was absolutely obsessed with the Second Coming, and most were sure it would happen in their lifetimes. I am too busy living the life God has given me to second-guess his/her decisions about the future of the world. Sorry.

But, this week seems like a sign from God, somehow, I have to admit. Anytime that something happens that is completely out of my realm of understanding, I have to revert to my Bible thumping days, I guess.

How could anyone walk into a schoolhouse to murder little girls? And, as if to make this sign even more dramatic, how could anyone intentionally murder an Amish person, let alone many, let alone little girls. LITTLE GIRLS! Little girls who had walked to school in their bare feet. Whose community is known throughout the world for its pacifism.

If God were to make a statement that the end times are near, what would be his most dramatic way of saying it? The way that this drama has hit my heart seems even harsher a reminder than if God let a Marquis drop from the heavens with “The End Times are near” printed in neon on it.

I do not believe in evil, per se. But, it is in times like these when mental disease or some cultural violence does not in any way explain it away. Evil must have been in Pennsylvania that day, somehow. The Devil himself, even though I don’t believe in him either, must have been there. How can this be? Those poor little girls at the beginning of their lives, gone, just gone.

This is such a sad commentary on life in 2006. No one, I guess, is safe from the violent nature of out modern society.

Fuck wha?

My friend Maria is visiting me. She is Welsh. She is funny, and she is the only person I have ever met who is practically the mirror image of myself. We must have been, somehow, separated at birth.



Funny, though, she comes into my life at a time when my being an avid Anglophile is practically at its end. She has been, even so, introducing me to lots of fun British comedy that she grew up with.

Example:



You watch. You like.

Foley-Folly

Was just reading about the Mark Foley scandal. I read through all of the available transcripts of the supposedly sexually explicit emails and SMSs. Uh, where is the gross delinquency here? Has anyone actually read this stuff? It is totally vanilla and not, in any way, shocking. There is one correspondence between Foley and a “teenager” where they discuss maybe having dinner together sometime, but that, in order to drink, they may have to do it at Foley’s place. Ok. That means the guy is under 21. And where is the scandal there?

I know, I know. The legal age for consent is 18. That means that, because the law has told us that this is normal and right, we believe it to be so. But, how many straight guys have married 16-year-old brides in the past? In some African tribes, 16 may seem a bit old to be joined with a man and working on a family. The law of consent is 16 in Germany, whether you’re straight or gay. In Holland, it is 14, I believe, as long as the family knows about it.

Of course, Foley was wrong if he was trying to pursue these people when there was any kind of professional relationship involved. Sexual harassment is a serious crime because it always has to do with someone trying to use his professional standing to get what he/she wants. In other words, it has to do with abuse of hierarchy.

And, if Foley was knowingly pursuing guys on the Internet that were legally under the age of consent, that is, also, obviously illegal. Whether that sort of thing needs to be brought before the public’s attention, though, I am not sure. I do not think that because a guy pursues someone who is 16, he should automatically be considered a “sex predator” as the blogosphere has labeled him.

Let’s be frank with each other here, ok? Some people are sexually mature at the age of 16. Some aren’t. We all know what the legal cut-off is. But, if a man pursues something with someone who is 16 and sexually mature for his or her age, we cannot and should not compare that with someone who pursues pre-pubescent kids. One is a bit out of the ordinary and unusual, one is simply sick and wrong.