To Whom Shall I Turn?
Aug 31st, 2007 by Sonja

Yesterday was a long hard day. The weather turned and so did my mood. My mother’s cousin died after a short harsh battle with cancer. I couldn’t find my mother to tell her. She was in Maine. I spent time reflecting on my faith journey and it did me in. There was no one to tell to about my mother’s cousin, to ask for prayer for her family. For her children and grandchildren. I was and am alone.

Back in 1989 or 1990 when we first did the whatever-you-want-to-call-it … joined the church? became believers? became born again? Whatever you are comfortable calling it … that. I was glad to be part of the community. Community is important to me. As I’ve studied over the years since then, I’ve come to believe that it’s important to God that we live and reveal Him in community.

We thrived for a long while in our first church and it was good to us for a long time. There were many different strands of why it went bad. But when we left that church in late 2003, we left with a small group which had been meeting together for a number of years. It was hard and heartwrenching for us (LightHusband and I) in particular because at one time we had been very close to the pastor and his wife. But we had our small community which we kept meeting with.

In early 2004, we found a new small innovative church that was doing all the right things. It was focusing on helping the poor. If those impoverished folks wanted to worship with us, so much the better. They and then we, were doing some new and innovative things with worship. We focused on experiential worship. We focused on including the congregation in discussions rather than having people listen to lectures.

LightHusband joined the team that lead the church later that year. I joined the team that helped create the worship services. I was able (finally) to use my teaching gifts and talents across the spectrum. We did so many wonderful, unique things there is scarcely room to list them all. One of the guys on the team put together a worship element on the tower of Babel that still gives me chills when I listen to it 2 years later. It is one of my favorite meditative pieces ever. I wrote a one woman play based on the book of Ruth and acted it out one Sunday, later I did one based on Esther. We did collective services in which everyone in the church participated to bring something to the service. Or we had worship stations where people learned, experienced and worshipped together in small (4-6 people) groups together. We spent the year 2006 – 2007 observing the Jewish holidays in order to more thoroughly understand the roots of our Christian faith.

In 2005 a whole group of us went to Soularize out in Venice Beach. We had a blast and learned so much. We walked the streets of Venice and found things to use to put together a Eucharist station for communion.

We told each other it was okay to ask questions, to grieve our old churches, to be angry … yet it wasn’t okay to stay there. We set out to redeem the bad and ugly things we’d found in the old way of life; or at least attempt it.

So, why am I telling you all of this?

Because, when we left our first church behind. We left it. We were done and it was gone. But this time is ever so much more difficult. This most recent church was made of the emerging cloth. Most of you know some of the people who participated my spiritual abuse. They comment on your blogs. They are your FaceBook friends. They go to Emergent gatherings. This spiritual abuse isn’t limited to the old institutional church. It can happen anywhere. Anywhere at all.

When I first found Emerging Grace some two years ago, I read her Spiritual Abuse series. I thought it was interesting, but it didn’t resonate with what had happened to me at our first church. I found it sad. I knew it could happen. I knew it had happened to some friends of mine in other places. But it wasn’t my story at the time. It is now. When I read it again yesterday, it was as if Grace had been in my livingroom during a particular meeting that happened this past January. The fact that she wasn’t and didn’t even know that meeting took place. In fact, that she wrote this post 2 years prior to the meeting speaks sadly to the commonality of these events and how devastating they have become to the Church. Here are the salient points from part 2 but click through and read the whole thing. It all happened to me … really … it did.

When spiritual abuse occurs, it is because circumstances require that the leader take you down in order to secure or advance his position. These circumstances could be jealousy, differences of opinion, political or budget considerations threatening his position, or needing a scapegoat for problems within the ministry.

“When a lust for power in the heart of a leader is combined with pride, an insecurity that needs to control, and a constituency that is willing to follow blindly, the conditions are present for spiritual abuse.”

……

Manipulators and controllers will not accept differences of opinion. One of the ways they exercise control is to question the loyalty of those who disagree with them and discipline those who contradict them, branding them as rebellious (or as -in my case- attempting to split the church because I was asking questions).

Then, I thought, well … maybe I need to look beyond this and think about de-toxing. So I went to RobbyMac’s site to read his series on De-toxing from the Church. He’s written an excellent series. I don’t want to detract from that at all. But I’ve already lived it once. What do I do now that I’ve been there done that? Where do I go if I’ve been this harmed within the emerging church? This, from Detoxing Discoveries, in particular struck me …

  • Which, being interpreted, means (A) we shouldn’t act so self-righteous or adopt a detoxing-martyr complex if other Christians aren’t rushing to hear us vent (yet again) about church, and (B) we need to find others who understand where we can safely vent, puke, cry, and hash through the issues (for me, that meant starting up the Dead Pastors’ Society at the King’s Head Pub every Monday night)
  1. Dead Pastors Society Rule #1: It’s safe place to vent, and to recount the gory details of what led to the disillusionment and detox.
  2. Dead Pastors Society Rule #2: But it isn’t okay to stay bitter or feed bitterness. A safe place to vent was for the purpose of healing.
  3. Dead Pastors Society Rule #3: It’s a process. Not a quick fix. Sometimes, we met and all we “accomplished” was the quaffing of Guinness and the watching of hockey. And that was (and is) okay.

So … to whom do I turn? Where do I go, when it’s not the institutional church, but an emerging church which has created the monster? Where is the support group for that? Then what?

Scattered
Aug 30th, 2007 by Sonja

I am scattered today.  My mind is skittering around and trying to process several things all at once.

One of the things that I’ve been sorting through and want to do some more reading about (if I can find it) is a theory I’m beginning to nourish about the differences between the Celtic Church and the Roman church during the 500s and 600s and just why was Pelagius declared a heretic?  I wonder if it had a lot more to do with who he represented than what he thought.  But I’m still thinking and reading and need to organize my thoughts before I can do any serious writing about it.

We had dinner with some friends up here last night.  It was funny (weird), but I’ve known about these people all my life.  Just now we’re becoming friends.  Another person dropped in towards the end of the evening.  I’ve also known of him my whole life.  But not known him.  They all knew and hung out with each other all summer every summer.  Their families summered here.  I just came to visit my aunt for a few days here and there each summer.  Sometimes I’d spend a week.  We had a conversation last night about the gangs they ran with.  To them those gangs had been all inclusive.  To me, I could never find an opening.  LateComer declared “Oh, if we’d known you were here, you’d have been part of us.”  None of them remember me; they remember my youngest brother.  But I remember them.  Which leaves me wondering … am I really that withdrawn?

I remember the first time I took the MBTI and got the Introverted result.  I thought it was wrong.  But now I as I look back over my life and remember all the times I’ve tried so hard to be outgoing and failed.  Or gotten it wrong.  I remember being shoved out, off the porch to “go find the kids, they’re all over the place.”  But I just could not do that.  I wouldn’t know what to say when I got there.

So I’m trying to put all that together.  It felt like a sucker punch.  It wasn’t meant that way.  LateComer was trying to make me feel belatedly included.  But … the reality hit hard.

I’m continuing to recuperate, but not as quickly as I’d like.  So thoughts like this … “What if I have pancreatic cancer?” keep springing into my head.  I have to say them out loud so that LightHusband can help me push them away with the reality of this takes a long time to recuperate from.  But I have a strong imagination, it likes to win.

My cousin and her children came to visit yesterday.  It was fun, but too short.  Next year, we’ll gather here again for a longer day.  I will feel better and be able to do more.

The next big battle to fight with LightGirl is getting her into some decent clothes for Thanksgiving dinner in November.  I’ve got 84 days.  We’ve invited LightHusband’s parents, siblings and their families for the holiday.  So far it looks as though everyone will come and they’re all excited about it.  My 11 year old niece exclaimed, “I’ll go if I have to drive myself!”  And it’s an 11 hour drive for her … But this side of the family dresses for holiday dinners.  So.  LightGirl will need something appropriate.  Not made of tissue paper.  Not looking like a ‘ho from the ‘hood.  In other words, nothing from any of the local or on-line shops for girls her age.  I will have to make it.  Not a big deal for me.  But it will take some … (how shall I say this?) … negotiating.  So … let the games begin.

Two Years … a river of tears
Aug 29th, 2007 by Sonja

(ht to Jamie Arpin-Ricci)

Today marks the day two years ago that the levees failed.

We all continue to fail the least of those whose lives were swept away in the flood.

Life has marched on day after weary day. The press and our media hungry eyes have moved on … away from the flood zone so we no longer know about the gut wrenching poverty and hardship being lived out by thousands. But it is.

So today. Do one thing to help. Just one.

Here is a list of resources to get you started.

Check out When the Saints Go Marching In … sign the petition for Gulf Recovery Bill of 2007.

After the Headlines Fade … what we’re doing today.

Plenty International is village-based international development agency. Plenty has been sending relief supplies and volunteers to the Gulf Coast region since 2005 and will focus on rebuilding homes in 2007.

Ella Baker Center for Human Rights is a strategy and action center working for justice, opportunity and peace in urban America.

Moving Forward Gulf Coast is a community organization led by natives of the Gulf Coast region who have personally identified families who want to rebuild their lives in the Gulf Coast, but cannot because of lack of funds or information.

Oxfam America is a non-profit organization that works to end global poverty through saving lives, strengthening communities, and campaigning for change. Hurricane Katrina spurred Oxfam America to launch its first relief in the United States.

National Alliance to Restore Opportunity to the Gulf Coast & Displaced Persons is an inclusive national coalition of faith-based and social justice non-profit organizations.

Methodist Federation for Social Action unites activists within the United Methodist Church to take action on issues of justice, peace and liberation in the church, nation and world.

Mississippi ACLU is the foremost defender of the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights. The ACLU has played a major role in nearly every critical civil liberties battle of the last century — in courtrooms, in Congress and in the public arena.

Institute on Race and Poverty investigates the ways that policies and practices disproportionately affect people of color and the disadvantaged.

Think New Orleans. Alan Guiterrez blogs about the progressive happenings including the rebuilding of infrastructure, policy happenings, and events in New Orleans.

Volunteer Match – Yahoo matches volunteers with projects and programs. Interesting facts and figures in the sidebar.

Emergency Communities – non-profit organization that employs compassion and creativity to provide community-based disaster relief. Check out their needs list for in-kind donations, or make a financial contribution. Tell a friend, spread the word, and get involved!

Mercy Corps is currently working along the Gulf Coast to help children and families recover from the devastation of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. After an immediate response, the agency is now focusing on rebuilding the region.

Boxes for Katrina Relief AidIf you’re looking for a way to tangibly get involved in Katrina Relief Aid work, it can all start with a simple box.

Family – part 2
Aug 28th, 2007 by Sonja

As I may have mentioned here before, my family gathered together this weekend. We usually do this once a year. We try anyway. It almost didn’t happen this year because of sundry different events in all of our lives. It wouldn’t have been the end of the universe, but we would have been sad. We don’t make a huge deal of this gathering, but we do attempt it. It’s important to each of “us kids,” for different reasons I suspect. But important nonetheless.

My brothers amaze me. Both of them and in different ways. My youngest brother was such a goof growing up that I never really could imagine him as an adult. But he’s an amazing adult … yet he’s never quite lost his sense of wonder and silliness that make him so much fun to be around. He’s the one who simply decided he wanted to learn to sail. So he took the little sunfish out into a 12 mile an hour wind and made the boat go. It went backwards at first … for quite a ways. Then he made it go forwards for a long ways. Then he got it turned around and came back … after he tipped over a few times. But he did it. I’ve wanted to sail my whole life, but I doubt I’ll ever have that kind of courage. He never sits still … and when he does, he falls asleep. Just like he did when he was a kid. He runs a tent rental and party goods company in western Massachusetts. But he’s not content with that. He’s also building temporary structures all over the country. Oh … and he’s making new structures for the Red Cross to use instead of tents for the next hurricane season. They are like small houses and they’re beautiful. So much better than tents and can be stored in cargo crates like they put on 18 wheelers to be trucked to where-ever at a moments notice.

My other brother already lived one life as a vice president for a blood products and testing company. He made enough money to take a year off and travel around the world. When he came back he got married and now he’s running and building the jam company that my parents started. Oh … yeah … and he’s refinishing a house while raising his family. This involved taking off the roof of the house to add another floor to it. Literally … raising the roof!

Now both of my brothers could not do what they do without the help of their wonderful wives. They are both married to strong women who support and push them to greater things than they could do on their own. You know … the sum is greater than the parts, yadda, yadda … They are fortunate to have married well. I am fortunate to have gained sisters-in-law who fit into our family so well. I am fortunate too because we have such a grand and diverse group of nieces and nephews.

Here’s a picture from my favorite time this weekend … it was after dinner on Saturday night when LightMom, LightGirl, my oldest niece and I all did the dishes together. I washed, the girls dried, and LightMom did the organizing of dirty dishes … she kept the goods flowing. We had some great conversation … some of it was light, some heavy. But it was all good. The girls whined at first, but then we got to talking and they pitched in.

KP Duty

We had a really great time and the dishes flew. The time did too. LightMom observed, when all was said and done, “You know, one of the worst inventions has been the dishwasher. It took away the talking time.” I agreed with her. There is something about sharing a task that allows people the freedom to talk in ways that they don’t otherwise do. In particular, I treasured that evening because my niece isn’t always terribly open. But she was with a dish towel in her hand. In that room with her grandmother and her aunt and her cousin … and a task to perform, she felt safe enough to talk a little about the things that were on her mind. They weren’t terribly big or important … but the fact that she finally opened the door a crack was a treasure to me. It reminded me of the value of working together and doing small things together.

Those are the things that build a relationship and give it a foundation. Some how it’s not the fun, but the work that brings us together and keeps us there. I wonder why that is?

First Cast
Aug 28th, 2007 by Sonja

One of the good things about being a mother is that I get bragging rights. I don’t use them often. I like to save them for just the right occasion.

Today is one of those.

We’re having a rest and recuperation day. This weekend was fun. We had my whole fam damily here. As soon as they left, LightHusband’s mother and father arrived with nieces and nephews from his sister’s family. Then his sister and her husband came for dinner. So last night we had dinner for 12. Dinner for 14 on Saturday. Dinner for 12 last night. Yep … we’re ready for a low day. So it’s fishing and sewing and swimming and reading and …. what. ever.

LightBoy casually announced that he was taking his pole down to the Big Dock and drowning a worm. Here’s the result:

Really Big Fish

A twenty inch large mouth bass!  (LightHusband guesses it might have weighed over three pounds!!) Which he hooked, set, and caught … all by himself. Then he released it to live to tell the tale another day. But the grin tells the whole story. He’s one happy guy.

The Appearance of Holiness
Aug 28th, 2007 by Sonja

Erin (Decompressing Faith) and Lynn (Beyond 4 Walls) have organized a Synchroblog for today about prayer. Lynn asked a question on Emerging Women about how our prayer life has changed or emerged as our faith has morphed and changed. This lead to a conversation and then an invitation and now we’re all writing about how our prayer life.

I will lead with a confession. My prayer life stinks. I have perfected the language of the appearance of holiness in this regard, but the reality is … I suck. I am terrible at maintaining relationships with flesh and blood people so how can I maintain a relationship with an ephemeral God?

Of all the parts of my faith life my prayer life is the most shriveled. I am not constant. I cannot find quiet space. I have lots of excuses for this. I homeschool. My husband works from home. There is no quiet time or space ever in my life (unless I wake up at some unGodly hour). But those are excuses. The truth is … I find excuses. I find rationale. This has always been the case for all of my life. That is what I learned in the evangelical church in which I “grew up;” in which I spent the first 14 years of my faith life.

I learned how to pray spontaneous prayers. I learned about having quiet time. I learned that both are requirements for a thriving life of faith in a Christian community. I had neither. I still have neither. My prayer life is shriveled and barren. I do not pray in public unless the Holy Spirit takes over and gives me words that I must speak.

But …

There are some bright spots on the horizon.

Since leaving the evangelical church I have found some old and different ways of praying that have helped. My favorite is the Lord’s Prayer. Some days I just say that to myself at various times throughout the day. There are days when that is all I have. Some days even that is in tatters and I just have pieces of it.

I’ve discovered that liturgy is a balm for me. I know that this is not true for everyone. But for me repetitive prayers become healing and allow God to speak into my life in ways that I have not found before. My favorite book for these is the Celtic Book of Daily Prayer. When I had my nervous breakdown in Jan. 2006 I asked my family to engage in praying the hours with me. That became a lifeline for me. I loved those prayers every day. My family … not so much. I would love to begin having morning and evening prayers again several times a week. I find that communal/familial engagement is helpful for me.

The other thing that has become helpful for me is to engage with God during the times when my hands are busy but my mind is not. These are times like when I’m sewing, or cleaning or taking a shower. When I’m involved in a repetitive task that doesn’t take any thought (or very little) I find myself engaging in thought prayer and being able to listen/meditate as well. I sometimes have a snippet of a liturgical prayer or song that repeats while I’m thinking or listening. Sometimes I’m having an active conversation. Sometimes I cry out.

So, my prayer life looks nothing like what I was taught and I think it could be better. But … for right now, it’s what it is. I’ll leave you with my favorite prayer from the Northumbrian Community:

Lord, You have always given
bread for the coming day;
and though I am poor,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always given
strength for the coming day;
and though we are weak,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always given
peace for the coming day;
and though of anxious heart,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always kept
me safe in trials;
and now, tried as we are,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always marked
the road for the coming day;
and though it may be hidden,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always lightened
this darkness of mine;
and though the night is here,
today I believe.

Lord, You have always spoken
when time was ripe;
and though you be silent now,
today I believe.

Please visit these other “How Do You Pray” Synchroblog participants.
Cindy Bryan Teach Me to Pray…Again?
Lyn Hallewell God, Prayer and Me
Erin Word Prayer=Sex with God
Rick Meigs Prayer Helps that Get Me Deeper
Alan Knox Pray without Ceasing
Julie Clawson Prayer Synchroblog
Heather Synchroblog Prayer
Alex (Heather’s Husband) Prayer Synchroblog II
Lydia How Do You Pray
Che Vachon My Thoughts…
Paul Mayers Praying and Learning to Pray Again
Sonja Andrews The Appearance of Holiness
Jon Peres How Do I Pray?
Paul Walker One Congregation Experiments with Emerging Prayer
Susan Barnes Synchroblog: How Do You Pray?
Brother Maynard Fear Not the Silence
Nate Peres How Do I Pray?
Barry Taylor Synchroblog:How Do You Pray?
Emerging Grace Clearance Sale on Intercession Books
Jim Lehmer Synchroblog – How Do You Pray?
Lew A How Do You Pray? – Synchroblog
Jon Hallewell When I’m Spoken To
Deb Prayer Synchroblog
Barb Prayer without Throwing Things
Patti Blount How Do I Pray
Doug Jones How I Pray
Glenn Hagar Prayer Phases
Pam Hogeweide The Art of Blue Tape Spirituality
Mary How Do I Pray?
Rhonda Mitchell Prayer SynchroBlog
John Smulo Praying Naturally
Rachel Warwick How Do You Pray?
Barbara Legere How to Not Pray
Jonathan Brink Posture – Sitting With My Daddy
Andy How Do I Pray
Cynthia Clack How Do I Pray
Makeesha Fisher The Mystery of Prayer
Joy Synchroblog:Prayer

Family
Aug 26th, 2007 by Sonja

We’ve had a silly weekend together, my parents, my brothers and I and our families. The cousins have all had an exercise in “getting along.” There are little cousins and big cousins and they all have to get along with one another; make room for each other at the table. We big folks must accommodate each other’s disparate parenting styles; support each other and (when appropriate) gently take each other to task.

There was at least one literal rescue mission. My youngest brother took a sailboat out in a strong wind yesterday. It became too much for him in the broad lake. LightHusband and LightMom had to take the motorboat to bring him back. There have been other virtual rescue missions. Votes taken on whether or not “big” beans or “little” beans are better when baked at dinner last night. Family folklore retold to the little ones and the big ones. Familial relationships rehearsed and retold so that the children will remember who belongs to whom and when and why.

The “boys” have gone home now. Back to their regular lives. It’s just my parents and I at camp now. We had a good weekend together. Yesterday the weather was terrible, today, beautiful. There was fishing and tubing and snarking and laughing and somehow we packed 14 people around the dining room table. This afternoon as LightUncle2 packed his daughters up to to home, I overheard a conversation between the cousins as they laid claim to bedrooms “when we grow up.” They were making plans for the house in the future and how they would fit into it with their own children. Discussing which rules need to be continued and which they might decide to do away with. It was interesting to hear their thoughts on the matter. I’m sure that at 13/14 and 10 their ideas will change over time, but they understand this place in their legacy and that they must negotiate with each other into the future.

I hope that they will traverse those waters with greater skill and grace than I have been able to manage with my cousins. The break that came with them was brutal, sudden and without end.  I have given up hope that I will ever see them again or be in relationship with them again.   There are parts of me that don’t desire any relationship any longer because the sense of betrayal runs too deep.

No, that’s not exactly right.  It’s a sense that there were wrongs done by all parties.  Wrongs that must be set right somehow.  But those wrongs cannot be set right until they can be owned.  Therein lies the rub.  I may be wrong, but my instincts lead me to believe that my cousins are not interested in that road.  Down that road lies the difficult task of mutual confession, forgiveness, redemption and trust.  None of us is willing to proceed to that place.  We all have issues which make it easier to live in this uneasy place of grief, than to work out our differences and face each other’s pain, sorrow, hurt and shortcomings.  This familial battle which is my brother’s and yet is also mine left me wondering about how to work out those issues of hurt and forgiveness, grace and redemption.  Yet, I always told myself, it’s different … my cousins aren’t “believers.”  If they were part of the Body of Christ, it would work better.  Jesus-followers understand how all this works, so they can work these things out.

So, earlier this year, when the separation with my CLB came so brutally, suddenly and equally unendingly, I was taken by surprise.  Again.  There were wrongs done by all parties.  Wrongs that must be set right somehow.  Wrongs that cannot be set right until they can be owned.  Confessed.  Forgiven.  Redeemed.  And trust rebuilt.  But no one is willing to go down that road.

It was, effectively, a divorce.  Now this is metaphorical … and in the metaphorical sense, I was accused of having an affair.  I was accused of having other gods, of being a threat to those in leadership.  I had two choices.  Leave.  Or ‘fess up to something I wasn’t doing.  It was a Hobson’s choice.  Either way, the trust was broken.  If I left the relationship was destroyed.  If I ‘fessed up to do something I hadn’t done, the trust was broken.  So … we divorced.  I left everything behind.  There are some few people who I struggle to maintain shallow relationships with.  But we all know where everyone’s primary loyalties lie … and must lie.

Power brings a terrible pall to the church.  It corrupts even the most genuine and faith-filled leader or follower.  Machiavelli had it right … power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.  Where there are no checks and balances on our greedy selves, we will become that which we most despise.  When we surround ourselves only with people who agree with us, we cannot learn.  We cannot grow.  If we do not build in boundaries to restrain ourselves, we will hurt those about us.  That is where the church has consistently failed its congregants, by failing to understand the evil within the hearts of men and women who lead it.  By crying out the sin of the sheep and the perfection of the shepherds.  What kind of family is this?

Now That’s More Like It
Aug 23rd, 2007 by Sonja

We’re back at camp again.

Ten hours in the car.  That’s what the trip should take.  Ten hours.  Not … I don’t know … however many it took to get from Penn State to Albany in June.  That was a horrible trip.  In fact, I think it took longer to get from Penn State to Albany than it took us to get from Virginia to here today.  Go figure.

We left at 5:43 this morning.  We arrived at 3:50 this afternoon.  3 stops.  Bathroom, coffee and gas.

The coolest thing we saw was the uprights of the Delaware Memorial Bridge shrouded in clouds because it was so foggy.  That was really neat.

The coolest conversation we had was about the wall between Mexico and the US … this was sparked by an article in a National Geographic magazine I brought to read in the car.  There was a quote in the article that I think sums it all up really well … The wall is “A police solution to an economic problem.”  So we talked a lot about what that meant.  The LightChildren were digging it.

So … we’re here.  LightGirl and her cousin are playing an on-line game.  LightBoy, his cousin and her friend are playing card games.   LightHusband, LightUncle2 and I are avoiding making dinner … should be a fun evening.

Huh?
Aug 22nd, 2007 by Sonja

Here’s one for the “Things the Brain Does That I Will Never Understand” file …

So … in preparation for our last trip to Vermont for the summer (okay, our second trip), we’re getting the laundry done.  I assigned LightGirl the task of sorting and folding the socks.  This has not been done for quite some time in our house.  We do not place a high priority on matched socks.  Especially during sandal weather.  Most of them are white, so … there.

While I folded other clothes she treated me to a litany of where the socks had come from and how they had passed from one family member to another.  The girl knows the provenance of our socks for heavens sake.

This is the same girl who cannot learn her times tables or how to spell to save her life.  She is 13 and I regularly get hideously mis-spelled e-mails from her.

But she knows the provenance of socks.  Socks.

She claims this will stand her in good stead when the great sock monster rises up to take over the world.  She will know how to defeat him.  In the latter days times tables and spelling will do no good, but the provenance of socks will be her weapon against powerful evil.  So may it be.

Perspectives
Aug 22nd, 2007 by Sonja

Map - States named for GDP

Check out this map.  Click on it and go to it’s website of origin.  Someone cooked up the fairly brilliant idea of matching the Gross Domestic Product of various nations with the gross domestic product of each state.  Now this is somewhat disingenuous because it’s difficult to split out the gdp’s of different states and you really need to control for population, etc.  BUT … it does draw our attention to how enormous the US economy is in relation to other countries.  You can read more details at the website, along with economic data that makes this map make a lot more sense.  Or … you can just sit and be stunned by the whole thing.  Which is what I did for quite some time.

We really do need to go back to kindergarten … and learn how to share our toys well with others.  Right now our report card would have an “N” on it … for Needs Improvement.  And that is unacceptable.

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