Happy 4th of July!!!

Today is the 4th of July, and for the multitudes that read this blog who reside in the United States, we all know that this is the day that we Americans proclaim the right to engage in three of those most American of activities, namely: eating large quantities of fried, grilled, and/or battered foods guaranteed to lower our life span by at least ten years; imbibing alcoholic beverages of varying potencies, and observing the sometimes hilarious results of this activity; and last but not least, blowing stuff up with explosives.

But there is a legitimate reason for celebrating in like manner, not that Americans have ever needed a valid reason to perform the above stated activities. We celebrate the signing of a pivotal document 233 years ago in Philadelphia, PA. This document outlined the case for Independence from Great Britain, then ruled by King George the Third. But rather than me going on about why we needed to declare our Independence, why don't I just let you read it for yourselves straight from the horse's mouth.

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

hen in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

— John Hancock

New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton

Massachusetts:
John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry

Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery

Connecticut:
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott

New York:
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris

New Jersey:
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark

Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross

Delaware:
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean

Maryland:
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Virginia:
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton

North Carolina:
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn

South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton

Georgia:
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton

Happy Fourth of July from the Little House in the Ghetto.

Do I or Don't I...

Should I or Shouldn't I...

I've been thinking about shutting down the Scribbler. Despite a wealth of news and issues worth blogging about, I find myself not interested in writing about them. Even the mundane minutiae that makes up the scintillating life of one Pierre Wheaton is not enough to drag my lazy ass out of the rack, (or away from the Ah! My Goddess! manga) long enough to render an opinion much less engage in even the wild assed speculation that is rampant in and on the blogosphere.

The Muse has left me. Hell, she packed up in the middle of the night and took off like a bat out of hell leaving me nothing but a scribbled note: Yo asshole, It has become painfully apparent that you're not even remotely interested in exercising the talents that were unearthed during that seven years and change paper chase/odyssey/"journey to find yerself" known as "The Relentless Pursuit of Higher Education". Because of that, I have chosen to go off and enlighten someone else with my literary influence. Don't try and follow me. Goodbye and good riddance ,chump.

A month ago, I tried to write a post about my changing religious values as I have aged. It's still sitting here as a draft waiting for me to finish it. Maybe I will finish it one day, but not today.

I can't explain what has happened. Maybe this grand experiment has run its course. I do have this annoying habit of taking on projects and only lasting a year or two with them before I get bored or burned out and just abandon it. I guess this blog will just end up like so many that were started with good intentions and then left to rot in the blogosphere, unread, unwanted and a casualty of the web 2.0 malady of waaaay too many people writing about shit that nobody cares about.

Lord knows that I don't want to kill this thing. There's some damn good writing in the 80 odd posts that are part and parcel of the Moonlight Scribbler. Some my earlier essays would have given more than a few news columnists the heebie-jeebies. Too bad I never had the ambition or the balls to actually try and publicize this stuff. Then again, that's the story of my life any more. I'm always so quick to hide my light under the proverbial bushel and then wonder why in God's creation my life has turned out to be the comedy of errors that it is. Sad really. If I do decide to shut this thing down, I'll keep it up for posterity, maybe someone will happen across it and see for the rantings and screeds of the misunderstood genius that it is...oh wait!!! No one reads the fracking thing!!!!

Not that Blogger is hurting for disk space that they'll be sending me nastygrams asking me in a polite, but firm manner to "please get this piece of shit blog off our servers, we need the space to host yet another roaring account of some lady in Dubuque, Iowa and her cat's hairballs".

Then again, frack it!!! I'll keep it up. I have spent two years carving out this little outpost on the ass end of the blogosphere, and while it has a readership that can be counted on one hand with fingers to spare, it is MY little project, and like the "Relentless Pursuit of Higher Education" from which the seedof the Moonlight Scribbler germinated, this is something that I can hang my hat on and point to with a measure of pride and say "Yeah, I did that." Kinda like a toddler when he makes his first doody in the toilet. Besides, I just realized that the Moonlight Scribbler turned three years old on April 6th. It's old enough to know the word "NO!!!" There's now way I can get rid of it now. CYS would be on my ass in a heartbeat. This is my child as it were.

Maybe I need to find a new direction, a repurposing as it were. The fact that I'm sitting at Allegra and actually updating it shows that I haven't completely given up on the thing. The Muse may have left me, but she didn't rule out the possibility of coming by for the occasional visit. At least that's what I got from the note. I guess this means I'll have to spend some time thinking about which direction I want the Scribbler to take, which means that I have to spend less time reading and analyzing Ah! My Goddess! and playing games on the PSP and listening to 5,000 podcasts a day.

Then again, maybe not.

From Baghdad, With Love...

What is it about a scraggly, forlorn little puppy found in an abandoned wreck of a house in Fallujah, Iraq that would cause a hard-bitten, battle tested Marine Lieutenant Colonel to buck military policy that forbids the keeping of pets in a war zone by adopting this little dog, and to move heaven and earth to get him shipped home?
This story is told in a heartwarming little book called "From Baghdad, With Love" written by Lieutenant Colonel Jay Kopelman and Melinda Roth. The book's simple premise is summed up in it's subtitle: "A Marine, The War, and a Dog Named Lava".
In November 2004, Kopelmans squad of Marines enter an abandoned house in what is considered one of the most dangerous places on Earth, Fallujah, Iraq. They hear a suspicious clicking noise in one of the rooms. Thinking that an insurgent was preparing to attack them, the Marines locked and loaded and prepared to open fire. But something told Kopelman not to give the fire order just yet. They cautiously enter the room to find not a hell-bent insurgent, but a tiny puppy left behind when the former occupants of the house left. The clicking sound was the puppy's claws tapping the floor. The puppy takes one look at the Kopelman and his Marines and in his unbridled joy that all puppies possess, runs around the room careening into walls, jumping up and down and barking with a false bravado. The Marines immediately take the dog back to their base and name him Lava after the lava pits in Hawaii where his unit trains, and from which the unit takes it's nickname " The Lava Dogs"

Now the question is: what do they do with this puppy? Military law forbids the keeping of pets. Do they just abandon him someplace and let him slowly starve to death? Do they do the unthinkable and put a bullet into him? No, these hardass Marines trained to kill, show their humanity and let him live. They were warriors, not puppy killers. Using unorthodox methods of pet care, they de-flea him with kerosene, de-worm him with chewing tobacco and feed him MRE's. Maybe they aren't the most compassionate Marines after all. Lava shows his toughness by devouring the MREs and, like all puppies do, chewing and crapping on anything that moves. But these Marines melt when they see this puppy at play. I think that the sight of a helpless animal, especially a puppy triggers in us the desire to just scoop that animal up and love him, show him that he's wanted and cared about. I think the puppy helps these Marines to remember that while they are highly trained fighters capable of killing, underneath, they are still human beings capable of love, compassion, and care. This little puppy helped these Marines to regain some of their humanity lost after so much time seeing man's inhumanity.

The book goes on to describe the next part of the Lava problem: namely what does Kopelman do with the dog, once he's ready to ship out. Lava has bonded with him and his fellow Marines. It would be the height of cruelty to just leave him in Iraq to die. Kopelman comes up with the bright idea of spiriting Lava out of Iraq and back to the states where he will raise the dog as part of his family. But little does he know about how much of a pain in the ass it is to get an animal out of the country and halfway around the world. There are health exams to be administered, military inspectors to sneak around, contacts state-side to be made to arrange the arrival of the animal and also how does he get the dog out of Iraq? The stateside arrangements are easy enough, but the Iraqi side of the plan proves to be the sticking point. Without spoiling the ending, suffice it to say that Kopelman ultimately is successful and Lava is now enjoying a full and safe life stateside.

But to answer the question posed at the beginning of this post: I think it's the desire to help the helpless which is part of human nature. We may differ as to how to do that, but with a puppy or a kitten, or any other defenseless creature, there is only one way to help them because they cannot help themselves. They must be raised by caring, loving people who expend the time and expense to care for these creatures.

I'm partial to dogs myself, although I also like cats. But if given a choice, I'd rather have a dog because dogs show unconditional love. With a dog, you know what you're getting up front. A dog doesn't hide it's emotions. If a dog likes you, you'll know it five seconds into the encounter. Cats, you can never tell exactly what they're feeling at any given moment. Unless they show overt behavior that is unmistakeable in its intent. Most of the time a cat will just sit there and make you speculate as to what it's feeling. Some people like cats because of their independent and mysterious nature. I'll take a dog anyday.

Fallen Shields

 

This morning, The City of Pittsburgh was rocked to its core when a gunman holed up in his home in the Stanton Heights section of Pittsburgh opened fire on three Pittsburgh Police officers who responded to his home to investigate a call of a domestic incident.

The three police officers were killed as soon as they attempted to enter the residence.  Killed in action were :  Officers  Stephen Mayhle, and Paul Scuillo, III both with two years on the force and Officer Eric Kelly with 14 years on the force.

Here is the Post Gazette account of the incident

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09094/960660-100.stm

Here is the Trib-Review’s account

http://www.pittsburghlive.com:8000/x/pittsburghtrib/news/cityregion/s_619260.html

There’s an adage that goes:  No one remembers when a person does good.  No one forgets when a person does bad.   We all remember the times that a cop may have showed a little too much attitude when pulling us over of a traffic stop.   We all remember times when a cop may use a tone of voice when talking to us that was a little too intimidating.  We all remember times when cops go bad and let the authority that badge confers turn into a license to abuse and attack the public they have sworn to serve.  We tend to forget that cops are human beings that have the same emotional and mental quirks as us.   We tend to forget that the nature of their job exposes policemen and women to the best and worst of humanity.  Because they are charged with enforcement of the law, more often they are exposed to the latter rather than the former.  We tend to forget that it’s not always easy for a cop to “leave the belt, badge and gun at the station” whenever they are away from the job.

  Police Officers go where angels fear to tread for a salary that most rational thinking people would probably turn up their nose.   For what cops go through, who in their right mind would do it??  Fortunately for us, there are enough people who are willing to do the seemingly irrational and become police officers.  They put on their belt, badge and gun every day and go out into a world where they are viewed with a ever changing mix of grudging respect, admiration, disgust,  outright hatred, and fleeting tolerance.   For sure there are cops that hide behind the badge and use that authority to wreak havoc on the public.  Name one occupation where people don’t use their clout to abuse those they serve or employ?   But I’d like to think that the vast majority of cops are good people who have a thankless job, and try to do it with the best of intentions.   In the next few days, police officers will converge from all over the country to bury three of their own.  I think it would be a nice gesture to go up to a cop and just let him or her know that you appreciate what they do.   And hopefully that appreciation of our police officers will extend till well past the day these heroes are laid to rest.   I pray for the souls of Officers Scuillo, Kelly and Mayhle that God will speed them to His right hand.  And I also pray for the families of those officers that they receive  healing and comfort they deserve in this upheaval.  Resquiat in Pacem, gentlemen and a grateful city thanks you for your service. 

A crisis of faith...or a midcourse correction?

Over the years, my religious life has taken a few twists and turns. I'd like to think that I still embrace Christianity for the most part, but I don't believe as I used to. Certain things I used to embrace wholeheartedly, I doubt now. And I'm starting to feel at war with myself in certain areas because I'm not sure if my change in beliefs is a crisis of faith, or a mere change in the overall course of my spiritual life because I've gotten older.

A little backstory...weeelll, maybe a lotta backstory. I've been in the church all my life. I sang choir starting at age 13 and have been doing so since then, off and on because of my time in the military. I started out Baptist attending the family church, Sixth Mt. Zion Baptist, as a young child for the same reasons that most kids attend church...because the parents told them they had to go. I did the whole Sunday School routine: studied my lessons; put a quarter in the offering after debating with myself whether I should put it church or save it for the candy store; I dutifully performed in the annual Easter and Christmas pageants. After Sunday school I walked the block and a half down to the church to sing in the children's choir, or serve on the youth usher board, or do whatever was asked of me to do.

The parents made it clear that in no uncertain terms, my butt was to be in church every Sunday the Good Lord sent. It was only after I got into my junior year in high school and started playing on the soccer team, that I was able to get my mother to budge even part way on church attendance. Because the soccer team played most of its games on Sundays, we made a deal that during the season, I could skip church as long as I went to Sunday School. A pretty good deal, I thought. About that time, I decided to "join the church."

For the multitudes who read this blog who are Episcopalian or other religions and have no idea about how Baptists in general or at Sixth Mt. Zion in particular, "join the church", lemme splain to you how it's done. When you feel the time is right to become a member of the congregation, you simply walk forward to the front pew when the preacher gives the altar call. The altar call usually comes at the end of the sermon, which in the Baptist church is at the tail end of the service instead of about 20 minutes in like it is in the 'Pisco church.

The preacher starts asking/begging/imploring/cajoling/pleading for those who are interested in joining the church. Those who feel the Spirit leading them in that direction get up out of their seats, walk to the front of the church and sit down. And of course, this causes all sorts of consternation amongst the congregation that another lamb has found its way into the fold. They get especially geeked up when a young person decides to make the walk. Well, out of a sense of duty to my mother, whom I loved very much, and did not want to disappoint, I decided to make the big leap. Of course, my mother fell out along with half the senior choir. That was the primary reason for going through with it. Afterwards, the deacons take you into another room, congratulate you, set you up to take some classes in the basics of the faith and how Baptists do things and if you survive, you're then baptized, and given the "right hand of fellowship" which means that everyone in the congregation processes up to shake your hand and welcome you into the congregation.

Did I do it because I felt God's hand on me imploring me to walk up? I'm not sure. The Sunday School lessons were a blur to me, I forgot most of it once I left Sunday School to head down to the church. I did it because mother told me I had to. If there was anything I learned about those years at "Sixth", it was that service to the church was really important, though I learned diddle about the disciples. I enjoyed getting involved in the choir and on the usher board. Traits that are still a part of my life to this day.

Fast forward to 1983. I had just finished my deployment on the Carl Vinson, where the last thing on my mind was serving the Lord in his church. I'd like to think that this is a PG rated blog because my occasional use of the word "shit," so I will not go into the various exploits that I got myself into whilst overseas on the taxpayers dime, but suffice it to say, what happens in the PI, stays in the PI. if you know what I mean. It was close to Thanksgiving and I was in a new town, didn't know anyone there and was bored with just hanging out in the bars. Mind you, I'm not a big drinker, and even back in those hazy, crazy days, I was a lightweight in terms of my partying prowess. But, the bar scene was getting a little humdrum. And as I had Thanksgiving off, I had to figure out what I was going to do because I wasn't going to stay on the ship any more than I had to. I noticed that one of the local megachurches, that peculiar religious institution that is well known throughout California, was trolling for sailors to host for the holiday at their "campus." I had made plans to catch the bus to go out there, but as I hadn't learned the topography of the base all that well, I went to the wrong gate. There I was, sitting at the base gate in the rain looking like a drowned rat, with nothing to do.

So I decided to start walking. Of course, I had no clue as to where anything was in Alameda, but eventually I ended up near the main drag, and I saw this little house next to a laundromat. And the sign on the house said "Compass and Helm Christian Servicemen's Center." I had no clue whether they were open on Thanksgiving, and I had nowhere else to go on a rainy Thanskgiving in a strange town, so I knocked on the door. A rough looking guy answered the door, and I became quite uncertain. He looked like a biker, and not someone to be trifled with. I explained that I was a sailor off the Carl Vinson and I had Thanksgiving off and I was looking for a place to spend the day. I wasn't looking for food or a place to sleep, just someplace to hang out. Well, he invited me in, introduced me to his family, including his wife and two little girls, and told me make myself at home. His name was Chris Grant and he and his wife Kathy ran the "Helm" as it was known in those days as a ministry of the local churches in the area to give servicemen like myself a place to go that was an alternative to the bars and sleazier parts of town.

They opened their home to me, a complete stranger, and even shared their Thanksgiving dinner with me. They explained the role of the Helm, and later that day they opened for business. I got to meet some cool guys from the other ships in port as well as the base command, and even met some of the other local visitors from the major supporting church in the area, Westside Baptist. It didn't take long for me to realize that I had found a home away from home and a respite from life on board ship. I started hanging out there on a regular basis. The Helm held Thursday Night Bible Studies and Westside had Wednesday night Bible studies and I made it a point to start attending those services.

Westside was a great little church. A part of the Conservative Baptist Association, Westside's teaching and doctrines may have been on the conservative side, but their makeup and overall atmosphere was anything but. Westside was a small church with about a couple hundred members on the rolls, but averaged about 35-40 souls per Sunday if the fleet was out, and 60 or so if the fleet was in. It was my favorite kind of church. Small, friendly, open to strangers, easy to get involved in, and multicultural. Their worship style was very informal, the dress code was "come as you are", and while the choir didn't come along until close to the end of my time there, I was able to fill my choir jones and get involved. They didn't have a lot of "stuff" and their building was very modest, but what they had was a genuine spirit of community that made it very hard for strangers not to at least admire what they were trying to accomplish, let alone just jump in and help out. There were a succession of older and more traditional pastors who all preached their sermons from the King James Bible, and had no problem preaching the hellfire and brimstone when needed, but were still open for discussion and friendly to the younger members of the congregation. It was a church that took its ministry seriously, but did not take itself as such.

The church catered to the local naval base and depended pretty heavily on it. They created the Compass and Helm ministry to reach out to the military population, and the Helm over the years built up a small but intensely loyal following of people, military and civilian, who loved Jesus and wanted to have fun also. We went on trips to amusement parks, occasionally took in A's games at the Coliseum, and had a great time. I had gotten so involved in the ministry and the church that I joined Westside. I learned a tremendous amount about the Christian faith through the Bible Studies at both the Helm and Westside and also by attending Sunday services. I guess that being older and a little more focused, I was actually ready to receive the knowledge that was being passed down. It was a typical Baptist " born again" approach to Christianity, There was talk about sin and judgement, and the commandment to witness and to live a holy life, but it wasn't beaten into the parishioners by the pastors, like it seemed to be in the more evangelical and fundamentalist churches. The congregants were a little older and a good deal more mature, so I didn't think it was necessary.

And during this time, I started reading much more Christian literature. Especially books about prophecy, and expositions of the end-times teachings in the books of Daniel and Revelation. I read a lot of Hal Lindsey, and I tended to gravitate to the prophetic aisles of the Christian bookstores. Also tended to get into a lot of studies of comparative religions, and how to debate people of other faiths on the merits of Christianity versus their chosen faith. I was never big on the whole concept of trying to witness to others and getting them to convert to Christianity, and I don't do it today. But I was fascinated in trying to learn about other faiths and how they differed from my faith and how to defend the faith and also debating the strengths and weaknesses.

End-times teaching and comparative religion study are the areas of Christianity that tend to attract the more extreme authors and elements in the faith. It's like crack for the Christian. At least when I used to go into Christian bookstores, They used to put those titles towards the front of the store and those topics used to get more traffic. I read more than a few books that went overboard in their logic. As it was 20+ years ago, please don't ask me to quote a specific book. Those books tend to be somewhat sensationalistic, and always telling the readers to constantly be on their guard as the end-times are coming if they aren't already here. I've seen books about the Rapture that announced that it would happen: Before the Tribulation; after the Tribulation; 3 and a half years in; it had already happened; there won't be one; it's happening right now a few souls at a time; yadda, yadda, yadda. You name it, someone was making a buck off their theories.

There was a booming market in books that tried to explain the mysteries of the Book of Revelation, and tried to forecast to the day when the various events described in that final and most controversial book of the Bible were to happen. Of course the Bible says that not even the Son of God knows when all this is going down, so what makes some pastor in San Diego think that he has inside info from the Father that he would not even tell His Son. Don't know, but it's a nice way to make a little scratch I guess as well as looking busy when the Rapture comes. I think that's one of the things that started me to wondering about the state of the church. So many people are willing to make a buck at God's expense. I know that not everyone who professes to be a Christian wants to make money in the God business, but those who do are the ones who steal most of the headlines and start the tongues to wagging, and also make those who are genuinely interested in becoming Christians do a double take.

Fast forward to 1993. I had left Deliverance Baptist Church a few years after they split off from Sixth Mt Zion as a result of a nasty fight between the pastor and the deacon board. I had a vision of a little church over on Kelly St in Homewood called Holy Cross. I had never been there before and didn't know the first thing about it, but I felt that maybe God wanted me to go there instead of Deliverance. I made some inquiries and attended a few services and was hooked on the place. They were of an odd denomination I had never heard of called the Episcopal Church. And their services were 180 degrees from what I was used to in the Baptist faith. Everyone from the preacher, to the choir to the people who read the Scriptures wore robes, there was no jumping up and down and going crazy with the Spirit, the sermon was 20 minutes into the service instead of at the end, there was no altar call, nor a screeching preacher urging his or her followers to "get right with God." The service was quiet, contemplative, some of the music was familiar from my Baptist days and the rest I'd never heard before. There was candles and incense, and a procession and it had the whole Catholic feel to it. And I found that this was the church for me. Unlike Deliverance which had plenty of people and lots of eager volunteers, Holy Cross needed a young person to help kepp them going. I felt more needed at Holy Cross than any other church I'd been a part of, and I still feel this way almost 16 years later.

I ultimately figured out what is different about the Episcopal Church compared to its Baptist cousin. The Episcopal Church is a lot more liberal. It's very tolerant of opposing viewpoints, and like most of the black Christian denominations places a large emphasis on social justice. It's a church that 'got it' in terms of allowing women to become ordained clergy back in 1976, while there are still many Baptist and other denominations that forbid the practice. It also takes the attitude that as long as we can agree more or less on those things laid out in the historical creeds and the various documents that formed the church in this country, the rest of the stuff is open for debate, and we can all worship and take communion at the same altar rail in mutual love and respect and discuss our differences in the undercroft over coffee hour. Now for someone like me who came from a church that preached that everyone pretty much had to be on the same page in all things and frowned rather heavily on dissent, however respectful, this, was a bit hard for me to get over. And to be certain, the Episcopal Church has more than a few folks in its leadership who's beliefs come damn close to repudiating traditional orthodox Christianity as I know it. I'm not just talking about the Rapture, or tongues, or fringe doctrines like that (Most Episcopalians don't place much creedence in either of those teachings, by the way, I however still speak in tongues and have no problem with that teaching.) But that's the great thing about this particular church, you can harbor those teachings and profess them all you want and no one will think any less of you. Some of the more hardcore denominations feel that they have to constantly scare their members into walking straight with visions of hellfire and eternal damnation if they put a foot wrong or speak up questioning a long held church teaching. The Episcopal Church like others, has it's share of people who think that their way is the right way and all others are wrong, but most Episcopalians are willing to let them do their thing and leave them alone. It's a very "whatever works for you, is cool, as long as you respect my beliefs" kind of attitude.

But getting to the crux of this essay. Because this church no longer had to scare me into accepting one belief over another and did not impose a penalty on me for having doubts, questions and criticisms about my religious beliefs, I started to wonder whether a lot of the long held baggage from my earlier days would start to impose this crushing guilt upon me. Because I no longer hold many of the things I grew up believing in such high regard, would it jeopardize my salvation as I knew it. I grew up thinking and being taught that the Bible was inerrant. I no longer believe that. I still believe that it is the Word of God. I still believe that it contains all that is necessary for salvation. But I also believe that certain parts of it were written for the time between 4000 BC and about 100 AD, and that those parts have no real influence in todays world. I believe that the Bible is God's Word written and interpretated by very flawed and imperfect humans who added their own feelings, prejudices, opinions and accounts into the mix. And equally flawed and imperfect humans have taken the Bible and used it to justify the most unChristian and ungodly behavior.

Look at the four gospels. Each one of them portrays the Life of Christ from four very different viewpoints. They don't even agree on small things like whether there were one or two beings at Christ's tomb on the day of his resurrection, or whether those beings were angels or not. A truly inerrant Bible would have equally valid accounts across all four gospels. All four got the big things right, but small differences amongst the authors prove to me that the concept of the Bible being inerrant is not true. Back in the day, I believed whole heartedly in the concept of the Rapture despite that term never being used in the Bible. I read all the books that explained all the different angles. Now, I don't really even care when it happens because it will happen when it happens, and I don't see the point of wasting time trying to predict the end times. Because I have all of a sudden put away these and other long held fringe beliefs, but still maintain the core doctrines of my faith, am I in danger of hellfire? Don't get me wrong. I can recite the Apostles and Nicene Creeds without crossing my fingers. Those creeds contain the essential parts of Christian belief. If you want to call yourself a Christian, the precepts mentioned in those creeds is a must. I believe in those creeds, and I recite those creeds earnestly. The other stuff, that's personally between you/I and God. This is an ongoing debate within myself that probably will not answered by a post on a blog. I surmise that I will finally get my answers when I finally stand before God, and He explains to me whether I got it right or wrong.

Seventeen Years...

17 years ago, 

1. Bill Clinton was beginning his White House Presidency.

2. George Bush ralphed all over the Japanese Prime Minister.

3.The Redskins beat the Buffalo Bills in Super Bowl XXVI.

4. The Pirates had a winning season, winning their third straight NL East title only to fall to the Atlanta Braves in the NLCS. 

5. The Penguins swept the Black Hawks in 4 games to win the Stanley Cup.

6. 4 cops indicted on police brutality charges against Rodney King.

7. Hurricane Andrew hits South Florida.

8.  Your's truly stared The Relentless Pursuit of Higher Education.

9. The Roman Catholic Church reinstates Galileo after 359 years.

10. Arthur Ashe named Sport's Illustrated's Man of the Year.

Add to that list: The Robert Morris Colonials won their 5th NEC men's basketball championship and appeared in the NCAA tournament. 

Since then, the Colonials have been to the championship game once in 2000 only to fall to Central Connecticut State.  

The Robert Morris Colonials labor in obscurity.  A small university of 5,000 in the West Hills of Pittsburgh made up mostly of commuter students.  RMU plays in the Northeast Conference, a lightly regarded assemblage of 11 private and public institutions in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Maryland, and Pennsylvania known more for their academics than their athletics.   It's one of many conferences in the NCAA that is called a"one and done" league.  Unlike the power conferences like the Big East, ACC, Big Ten, and so on that send three, four, and five teams to March Madness, conferences like the Northeast only send one team, the tournament champion.  In most cases, they end up a 16 seed, or 

if they had a truly great season, maybe even a 14 or 15 seed.  Cannon fodder for the North Carolinas, Dukes, and UConns.  

But even though the champion of the Northeast Conference is all but guaranteed to be on the losing end of a blow-out, it's still a cause for celebration to the players who make up that championship team.  Because for them,  the journey to the NCAA tournament is the important thing.  To make it through the meatgrinder of the conference schedule and the post-season conference tournament is the overriding goal for these one and done schools.  I'm not saying that they don't care about what they do in their one and most likely, only chance to participate in the Big Dance.  It's just that there are no lofty expectations placed on them.  There is no pressure.  They can play loosey-goosey knowing that the hardest part of their journey is over and this is just icing on the cake.  The reward for all that sweat, and blood and pain of practices and games.  

At the big time schools, getting to the NCAA's is pretty much granted. They play in large historic gyms in front of 12 to 20,000 screaming fans who may wait for years before they can get season tickets.  Those squads are under constant pressure from their fans, media, boosters, alums and others to get as far in the tourney as possible, and anything less than the Final Four is considered a failure.  Teams like Robert Morris play in front of 1,000-2,000 people tops, are lucky to get a mention in the local fishwrap in most seasons, and are just happy to punch their ticket to the Dance and want to soak up as much of the atmosphere as they can while they're there. 

In 2007-2008, the Colonials, had what was considered to be the best season in RMU history.  Led by first year coach Mike Rice, the Colonials stormed through the NEC going 16-2 in the conference, and highlighted by a 57-55 win over Boston College of the ACC on the road.  They were guaranteed home court all the way through the NEC tournament as long as they kept winning.  The Mount St. Mary Mountaineers, a small Catholic school out of Emmitsburg, Maryland,  kept RMU from realizing their dreams of going to the Dance with an 83-65 drubbing of Robert Morris on the Sewall Center floor.  The Mount as they are called, has become the major rival of the Colonials in men's basketball the last few years.  These teams do not like each other.  Every time the Colonials and the Mountaineers hookup, it is a tough, defensive affair that tends to get chippy.  

 The Colonials ended up going to the NIT and playing Syracuse at the Carrier Dome, where they kept it close and lost by 7 points.   But the NIT isn't called the "No one's Interested Tournament" for nothing.  It's a small consolation.  It's better than nothing, but not much. 

2008-2009 brought a new season and a rededication to insuring that what happened last season wouldn't happen again.  Once again the Colonials ran through the conference with only a small bobble in the end going 15-3 and gaining the home court for the NEC tournament.  After a tough win against St. Francis (NY) and a blowout of Quinnipiac, Robert Morris once again looked across the bracket to see that the path between them and the Dance was, you guessed it, the Mountaineers of Mount St. Mary's.  The perfect storm.  One vs Two for the bragging rights, the hardware and most of all, the ticket to the Madness.  

It was an ugly game. Neither team shot very well.  it was 19-19 at the half.  Both teams played nasty, cloying defense and the lead never got beyond 5 points for either side.  But RMU got on an 11-4 run during the last five minutes of the game, and with 2.5 seconds left,  Dallas Green picked up a ball that Jeremy Chappelle fumbled and scored the winning basket.  His only two points of the game ended up being the two most important points of the 2008-09 season.

The drought is over, and the Colonials are going dancing.  

Here is one of the Post-Gazette stories.

Gene Collier, sports columnist of the PG shares his thoughts here.

The Trib's coverage of the game is here

Finally, here is the coverage of the Beaver County Times

Good Job, Colonials. Now go and have some fun!!!

photo credits: John Heller, Pgh Post-Gazette

The Scribbler Awakes…or is it awakens???

Like a grizzly bear that spent the last four months snoozing peacefully in its cramped stinky cave,  The Moonlight Scribbler has also spent the same amount of time in hiatus while its writer has  been freezing his ass off during this winter and has shown no desire whatsoever to play around on his computer.  Part of that being because Allegra is in a room that doesn’t have a lot of heat and I can only stand to stay in there long enough to sync my iPod and Blackberry before my hands freeze.   But now winter is on the run, spring is only a matter of days away, and this bear of a blog is about to emerge from its den.   And like it’s ursine counterpart, it’ll want to: stretch out, scratch an itch, take a piss, and then go out and kill something.

 

Other than a quick little year-end blurb that admittedly was quite forgettable, the last time the Scribbler was updated,  the country had elected one Barack Hussein Obama as President of these United States.  A fair amount has happened since then.  And I’m not going to delve into politics, because frankly it bores the hell out of me, and I don’t know enough about politics to be a worthwhile authority on the subject although that hasn’t stopped a myriad of bloggers from professing punditry. The blogosphere is chock-a-block with would be political analysts banging away at keyboards all over this nation professing their knowledge about the blood sport that is the body politic.     What was it they said about an infinite number of monkeys banging away on an infinite number of keyboards…?  I rest my case.

 

Baseball season starts in a few weeks, which means that for that sliver of time starting with the  words “Pitchers and Catchers report” to Opening Day, every team from the free spenders to the penny pinchers have the exact same record and the exact same chances of taking home the big trophy.   Those who support the bottom feeders hold hope against hope that this may be the year that their club takes a step towards respectability.   The local baseball club,  The Pittsburgh Pirates did very little in the off-season in terms of acquiring talent, although for reasons that escape me, they let go the only player on the team that showed even the slightest shred of leadership and balls-out toughness, Doug Mientkewicz.  What’s was it they said about the definition of insanity being that you do the same thing over and over and expect a different result?  I rest my case.

 

In another sports-related story,  MLS club, LA Galaxy and Serie A club AC Milan came to an agreement regarding English midfielder, David Beckham.   Those of you who actually read this blog from the very beginning know of the post I wrote entitled “Cowher Aht, Beck’s In”  where I expounded on the benefits and drawbacks of having David Beckham come to the United States in the hope of lifting the beautiful game from niche status to a level alongside the Big Four of US sports a la Pele and many other Euros and S. Americans that came to the old NASL back in the ‘70s.  

Well, the idea was sound, but the execution was, feh!!   Beckham got injured before he came to the US and by the time he actually got on the field in match shape, the Galaxy’s season was pretty much done and dusted, and he wasn’t much of a factor, on the field.  He did sell a few jerseys, and the crowds at the stadiums where he played were very good.  The next season, Beck’s performed slightly better on the pitch, but the wow factor had died down.  After he season was over, Galaxy loaned him to AC Milan for a few months so that he could stay in shape and hopefully make the English World Cup team in 2010.  Well, it seemed like playing back on the Continent lit a fire under Goldenballs, and he started playing better than he had in quite a long time.  He and AC Milan decided to try and get Galaxy to make the loan permanent.  After all, he’s Goldenballs and AC Milan play in one of the most storied soccer leagues in the world, Serie A of Italy.  Even the worst team in Serie A has more history and tradition than the entire MLS, which has only been in existence for 13 years.  They were convinced that the Galaxy and MLS would roll over like puppies and let Beckham go.

 

  Wrong F*****g Answer, Recruit!!! The Galaxy calmly reminded the two that Beckham has a rather lucrative contract here in the USA and he was obligated to see it through to the end.   Me thinks that MLS would have rather wanted to tell Becks and Posh to not let the door hit them in the butt on their way out, but they had to save face.   After all,  they’re trying to compete on the world stage in the cutthroat sport of international soccer.  And to merely let Beck’s go without at least a token fight would have given other Euro superclubs the liberty of pushing MLS around the schoolyard.   AC Milan came back with a laughably pitiful offer that Galaxy swatted away.  And after weeks of meetings and negotiations, both sides came up with a plan to allow Beckham to stay in Italy until the end of the Serie A season, then take a short break, and come back the US to play for the Galaxy for the remainder of the MLS season.  During this time, Beckham will use some of his own money to buy his way out of his contract so he could go back to Italy for the rest of his playing days.   Galaxy will have to cut their ticket prices and probably issue refunds to those fans who purchased season tickets just because of Beck’s presence.

 

It will be interesting to see how his Galaxy teammates will respond to him in the locker room.  He did not exactly endear himself to them and fans of the MLS when he disrespected the league and spoke so highly of his experience playing in the Serie A.  He clearly does not want to be in the MLS, and neither side wants to flat out admit that this experiment was a failure.   But I can see Beck’s point.   Playing in the great Euro leagues and playing in the MLS are as different as day and night.  The MLS is a Chevy while Serie A is  Ferrari.  MLS teams play in front of 15,000-20,000 fans tops.  Serie A teams play in historic stadiums like the San Siro in front of 70-80,000 screaming fans that treat their favorite players like gods.  Bench players on AC Milan make more than the best players on the Galaxy.  Beck’s is only a two hour flight away from England should he be tapped to play in international matches for England, compared to crossing a 3000 mile country and a 4,000 mile ocean.   He gets to play with and against some of the best players in the game.    Even most of the USA’s best players know that if they want to compete against the world’s best players, they have to play in the world’s finest leagues and MLS, for the time being, ain’t  one of them.  It seems that for now, this saga is over, but one never knows. 

 

I know this will probably piss a few of you off knowing that Your’s Truly is the epitome of Anti-Cool, Anti-Hip, and Anti-Trendy, but…IgotaniPhone.

“Wha, What did you say?”

“IgotaniPhone."

“Speak up, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.

“I GOT AN IPHONE!!!”

Pierre, you’re such a fricking tool!!  You’re the one who ripped the iPhone in your post “iPhone phooey”  saying that if anyone but Apple had put the thing out, no one would give it a second thought given its shortcomings  and that Apple could put a pound of dogshit in their signature packaging and have people line up around the block to buy it.   Turn in your Crackberry Nation Card right f*****g now!!!  You’re out of the tribe!  We’re putting your ass out on an ice floe with  meager rations, a fishing pole and, some stinky furs to sleep in.

I know, I know, I just completely shot my Anti-Cool cred all to shit.  I’m just another pretentious, smug, annoying iPhone clone who has a Steve Jobs shrine in my basement and would sell my female relatives into white slavery before using anything as primitive and unelegant as a PC.

You’d be partially wrong there, Bunky!  I haven’t  completely sold out my anti-cool principles.  I still use a PC that’s absolutely Jurassic in terms of hardware, and I have no intentions, designs, nor desires to switch to a Mac.  I still use a BlackBerry Pearl which is as old as the hills as smartphones go, and I rely on that thing more than the iPhone.  And the iPhone I bought was a 2G used model from a friend of mine.  And while much has changed with iPhone since I wrote that post back  in ‘07 .  So I’m still very much Anti-Cool, Anti-Hip and Anti Trendy. 

So how did I end up being an iPhone Clone?  As I said, a friend of mine had upgraded to a 3G iPhone and asked me if I wanted his old 2G.  I coughed up $75 for it and used it for a while on wi-fi as a data device, but I realized that I had to have an actual cellular connection to really use the thing the way I wanted.  So after paying the deposit for my crappy credit to AT&T I went ahead and activated this iPhone.  So now I have two phones to play with although I still rely on my BlackBerry more than the iPhone.  The Blackberry does email and text messaging better,  and also does MMS better which the iPhone does not support at all.  The BB also does cut and paste, which the iPhone still does not do even though legions of users are screaming at Apple to add it.  The camera on the iPhone is of a higher resolution and takes better pictures, but has no settings for changing  the white balance, the resolution, the focus or any other functions that one would find on todays smartphones.  My BlackBerry takes awful pictures but at least it can adjust the white balance, focus and resolution.

 

The iPhone has better apps and they tend to be cheaper than BB apps,  and due to Apple’'s obsession with centralization and absolute control of every aspect of the user experience, the apps are easy to load onto the phone with minimum hassle.   I have to admit that the design is typical Apple elegance with a minimum of buttons and it is nice to see web pages rendered natively, but slowly on AT&T’s molasses like EDGE connection.  I don’t use the iPhone as an iPod. I still use my crusty old mini for that.  It’s strictly a data device, which brings me to my next rant.  Why do I have to pay AT&T $40/month for a voice plan I’ll never use??  I’m not a motormouth on the cellphone. I get on, say what I want to say, and get off.  I can count the average monthly number of minutes I spend on the phone on two hands and one foot.  I go through data like a starving man.  And paying $20.00/month for 2G data on an iPhone is slow, but nice.  I know that AT&T makes its money on the voice plans, but If they offered a data only plan for 40-50 bucks, and 15-20 cents/minute straight up, I’d jump on that quick, fast, and in a hurry.   i don’t need voice on my iPhone, that’s what the BB is for. 

 

Well, as I write this, I’m closing in on 2000 words in this, the first post of 2009.  There’s going to be a lot of crazy shit coming down the pike for this year.  And I have no clue how it will all shake out, but that’s what life is all about.  Especially the way I approach it.