i got a new blog! i will no longer be updating this one.
http://flaneries.wordpress.com/
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
thoughts on "a time to refrain from embracing" by daniel tasripin
daniel - as an atheist, a lot of what you said in your essay resonates with me, specifically the attitude that religion is somehow "off-limits" to serious scrutiny. i make every effort to respect others' autonomy to believe whatever they want to believe, but i also feel i have as much a right to discuss, question, and disagree with those beliefs: and this applies to every belief, whether it is patriarchal, classist, or religious. sds cannot be a healthy, revolutionary organization if we continue to rope things off as unmentionable or untouchable in order to maintain this elitist sort of "respect". i question the religious beliefs of everyone with whom i have a chance to speak with, and, usually, it leads to a captivating and intelligent dialogue.
while i understand the efforts of the "religion & sds" article were to ask for tolerance, there are many more sides to this issue that need to be explored. yes, a call for tolerance is a legitimate request, but so is the atheist's call for questioning and for discussion of what it means to be religious and to be a part of sds; and whether being religious is compatible with building a revolutionary movement. we should be able to ask that question without making religious people enraged and offended, and without being chastised for being intolerant or disrespectful. in the current climate? i don't feel as if i can ask these kinds of questions. but i want to. and i know that we need to.
one thing i would like to bring up, though, daniel, is that in your essay you also present a fairly narrow idea of "religion" and of what it means to be "religious". there exist sects of christianity, islam, judaism, buddhism, and countless other religions whose "beliefs" about the nature of (a/the) god and/or the universe are so far beyond the scope of what society conventionally depicts as "religious" (and also far beyond the scope of your discussion, daniel). the ideas of pantheism, for example, as practiced by some members of my old faith, could very well be reconciled with the "scientific" view of the universe. there are self-proclaimed religious people and ideas that could just as easily be called metaphysical, philosophical, and scientific, and that are extremely compatible with the ideals promoted by sds. that is not to say that these kinds of beliefs are not also up for discussion, but just that often the discussion surrounding religion is far too narrow, as i found to be the case in your essay, daniel.
all in all, well done, and thank you for speaking out about this obviously touchy subject - but lets make sure our future discussions of religion in sds (and i hope there are many, many more to follow!) keep in mind the enormous scope of this subject.
***originally written April 10, 2008.
while i understand the efforts of the "religion & sds" article were to ask for tolerance, there are many more sides to this issue that need to be explored. yes, a call for tolerance is a legitimate request, but so is the atheist's call for questioning and for discussion of what it means to be religious and to be a part of sds; and whether being religious is compatible with building a revolutionary movement. we should be able to ask that question without making religious people enraged and offended, and without being chastised for being intolerant or disrespectful. in the current climate? i don't feel as if i can ask these kinds of questions. but i want to. and i know that we need to.
one thing i would like to bring up, though, daniel, is that in your essay you also present a fairly narrow idea of "religion" and of what it means to be "religious". there exist sects of christianity, islam, judaism, buddhism, and countless other religions whose "beliefs" about the nature of (a/the) god and/or the universe are so far beyond the scope of what society conventionally depicts as "religious" (and also far beyond the scope of your discussion, daniel). the ideas of pantheism, for example, as practiced by some members of my old faith, could very well be reconciled with the "scientific" view of the universe. there are self-proclaimed religious people and ideas that could just as easily be called metaphysical, philosophical, and scientific, and that are extremely compatible with the ideals promoted by sds. that is not to say that these kinds of beliefs are not also up for discussion, but just that often the discussion surrounding religion is far too narrow, as i found to be the case in your essay, daniel.
all in all, well done, and thank you for speaking out about this obviously touchy subject - but lets make sure our future discussions of religion in sds (and i hope there are many, many more to follow!) keep in mind the enormous scope of this subject.
***originally written April 10, 2008.
dirigibles
yesterday i breathed my soul in through the city, breathed it out again and back in through my mouth as i looked and heard and smelled and felt. my walks remind me of what it means to be alive. to want to be. to be here.
i watched the purple torches of my campus, my wide scary playground, dip and flutter in the breeze. i walk the streets of lower manhattan. my town. i think my soul is the wind. i think my home has moved, or at least...duplicated, or shifted, so it means something else. i think maybe i have two homes, and i wonder what that means, and if that makes me happy or sad.
sometimes i put my headphones on but then forget to turn on the music, because i get lost in the beautiful cacophany of my city.
my city. finally.
i think it's actually more of a reclaiming, really. a homecoming. i walked my first steps, took my first breath, screamed my first little indignant scream as a tiny baby in queens. it was here that i first knew life, so perhaps its no wonder that it is here i breathe life in and out and in and out again.
its precarious, holding your life-essence on the tip of your tongue. sometimes i fear the pidgeons will snatch it out from between my lips and i'll fall down into misery in the tracks and puddles of the underground, again. sometimes im not even sure if i really climbed out. maybe i'm just dreaming of sunshine and dry sidewalks. some days i cant get the cold and dank and dark out of my chest. it lurks there, hard like a little ball of desperation that creeps into my every breath and threatens to extinguish all that i've built up against the cold.
its raining now. in new york its always raining, it seems. and even if its not raining, the sidewalks are surely wet. new york is a city of puddles. i've come to relish dry sidewalks to an absurd extent. i think it actually lifts my mood if i step outside and the sidewalks are dry.
no walks today; i'm too lazy and comfortable to pull on my rainboots and coat, and struggle with an umbrella. if i breathe with my mouth open today, i'll drown. my sweatshirt is too small. i hate when things shrink in the wash. i hate when things get bigger over time. bigger than you want or could ever hope to handle. i hate when i dont know where my thoughts are going.
probably best to end them before they drift off in too many directions to follow.
besides, i have people and things to look forward to. for tonight, at least.
***originally written February 26, 2008.
i watched the purple torches of my campus, my wide scary playground, dip and flutter in the breeze. i walk the streets of lower manhattan. my town. i think my soul is the wind. i think my home has moved, or at least...duplicated, or shifted, so it means something else. i think maybe i have two homes, and i wonder what that means, and if that makes me happy or sad.
sometimes i put my headphones on but then forget to turn on the music, because i get lost in the beautiful cacophany of my city.
my city. finally.
i think it's actually more of a reclaiming, really. a homecoming. i walked my first steps, took my first breath, screamed my first little indignant scream as a tiny baby in queens. it was here that i first knew life, so perhaps its no wonder that it is here i breathe life in and out and in and out again.
its precarious, holding your life-essence on the tip of your tongue. sometimes i fear the pidgeons will snatch it out from between my lips and i'll fall down into misery in the tracks and puddles of the underground, again. sometimes im not even sure if i really climbed out. maybe i'm just dreaming of sunshine and dry sidewalks. some days i cant get the cold and dank and dark out of my chest. it lurks there, hard like a little ball of desperation that creeps into my every breath and threatens to extinguish all that i've built up against the cold.
its raining now. in new york its always raining, it seems. and even if its not raining, the sidewalks are surely wet. new york is a city of puddles. i've come to relish dry sidewalks to an absurd extent. i think it actually lifts my mood if i step outside and the sidewalks are dry.
no walks today; i'm too lazy and comfortable to pull on my rainboots and coat, and struggle with an umbrella. if i breathe with my mouth open today, i'll drown. my sweatshirt is too small. i hate when things shrink in the wash. i hate when things get bigger over time. bigger than you want or could ever hope to handle. i hate when i dont know where my thoughts are going.
probably best to end them before they drift off in too many directions to follow.
besides, i have people and things to look forward to. for tonight, at least.
***originally written February 26, 2008.
public perverts on checkered stone
i've been here one week.
one glorious, heartwrenching, puke-your-guts-out-you're-so-nervous, sing-your-soul-away-it's-so-beautiful, cry-till-you-can't-breathe week.
new york city.
i am a child, a newborn baby child, alone and screaming at a world that won't understand her, won't accept her, won't embrace her, won't touch her for fear of finding something there worth loving. can't. can't. won't. doesn't make a difference. indifference is the word, cold and alone is the feeling, especially in my feet as i sit on a bed in an empty room. these things, this place, they're not mine, not yet. the room is bland, unassuming, covered and cluttered with my old possessions but not yet mine, still...indifferent. like the sun shining, streaming through the window (not mine), illuminating the tops of the trees and the rooftops of this city, this village, this park that's not mine, the a/c blasting cold air and a hum that's not mine to control, not mine to turn off when i've had enough.
i think i have.
no, i haven't. the people here, the kids here, this school and this hallway thats grudgingly becoming familiar to my eyes, warming to my touch as i turn the reluctant lock with the sticky key and flip the stubborn switch, they don't want me yet but they'll have me. i'll push through. i'll take them, all of them, and make them mine, pour out my emotions on these white walls like so much paint, until this room shines neon-bright with my presence. i'll shoulder this door till it opens, i'll push out these windows that keep out the noise, unplug this damn machine that keeps my feet cold and open my arms to this world, this new world; i'll tread on the gum and cement of these sparkling vomit-covered streets and make them mine. street names and twisty lanes, dark corners and rickety stairs, blaring horns, roaring trains, angry men and pushy women, i'll make you mine, i'll take this city and make it love me...
because i am already irrevocably entangled in love with it. i am heartbroken, i am alone, i feel isolated beyond endurance and these fucking trains seem to break down just for me, just when i need nothing more than to get up to the only arms in this place that will have me, but i love it all the same. from the jazz filtering through the park to my lonely seat, to the yellow taxi horns at night, to the stink of the sweat of 8 million people crowded into one subway car, i am in love. give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses. give me your filth and your stench and your dusty coke glasses. i'll take it all, i'll make this goddamn city mine if it takes all i have in return.
and it will. but i'm here. and i'm ready. and i'll push my way in.
*** originally written September 4, 2007.
one glorious, heartwrenching, puke-your-guts-out-you're-
new york city.
i am a child, a newborn baby child, alone and screaming at a world that won't understand her, won't accept her, won't embrace her, won't touch her for fear of finding something there worth loving. can't. can't. won't. doesn't make a difference. indifference is the word, cold and alone is the feeling, especially in my feet as i sit on a bed in an empty room. these things, this place, they're not mine, not yet. the room is bland, unassuming, covered and cluttered with my old possessions but not yet mine, still...indifferent. like the sun shining, streaming through the window (not mine), illuminating the tops of the trees and the rooftops of this city, this village, this park that's not mine, the a/c blasting cold air and a hum that's not mine to control, not mine to turn off when i've had enough.
i think i have.
no, i haven't. the people here, the kids here, this school and this hallway thats grudgingly becoming familiar to my eyes, warming to my touch as i turn the reluctant lock with the sticky key and flip the stubborn switch, they don't want me yet but they'll have me. i'll push through. i'll take them, all of them, and make them mine, pour out my emotions on these white walls like so much paint, until this room shines neon-bright with my presence. i'll shoulder this door till it opens, i'll push out these windows that keep out the noise, unplug this damn machine that keeps my feet cold and open my arms to this world, this new world; i'll tread on the gum and cement of these sparkling vomit-covered streets and make them mine. street names and twisty lanes, dark corners and rickety stairs, blaring horns, roaring trains, angry men and pushy women, i'll make you mine, i'll take this city and make it love me...
because i am already irrevocably entangled in love with it. i am heartbroken, i am alone, i feel isolated beyond endurance and these fucking trains seem to break down just for me, just when i need nothing more than to get up to the only arms in this place that will have me, but i love it all the same. from the jazz filtering through the park to my lonely seat, to the yellow taxi horns at night, to the stink of the sweat of 8 million people crowded into one subway car, i am in love. give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses. give me your filth and your stench and your dusty coke glasses. i'll take it all, i'll make this goddamn city mine if it takes all i have in return.
and it will. but i'm here. and i'm ready. and i'll push my way in.
*** originally written September 4, 2007.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
on a big rock in central park.
dreams and nightmares coalesce into one ongoing all-encompassing vision
i dont know whats real except for the warmth of your body next to mine.
your skin is smooth and shines in the light from the window, your lips soft and pink and
when i kiss them you roll over and hug me
like i pressed your love button and you happily responded.
i love you like this, sleeping the afternoon away in my bluegreen rumpled room
youre a little boy in arms and legs, mumbling to yourself
and to me
in mixed up phrases of spanish and english.
im alive in bunches of sheets, in sleepy kisses and body heat, high up in my quiet place above the city.
im sitting on a big rock in central park, already missing this place even though im not yet gone.
i dont know whats real except for the warmth of your body next to mine.
your skin is smooth and shines in the light from the window, your lips soft and pink and
when i kiss them you roll over and hug me
like i pressed your love button and you happily responded.
i love you like this, sleeping the afternoon away in my bluegreen rumpled room
youre a little boy in arms and legs, mumbling to yourself
and to me
in mixed up phrases of spanish and english.
im alive in bunches of sheets, in sleepy kisses and body heat, high up in my quiet place above the city.
im sitting on a big rock in central park, already missing this place even though im not yet gone.
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