Monday, December 24, 2018

Pierwalker Log: Christmas Eve, 2018

Writing start: 10:51 A.M.
Finish: 2:51 P.M.
Total new words (est.): 1100
Edited (est.): 8800 + 6 poems


1. Failure: 700 new words
Notes: The light at the end of the tunnel. I can see it more and more clearly now. This has been one helluva difficult story to write.

2. Book Three Melody: Read-through of chapter thirteen

3. Ant Story: Off till Wednesday

4. Fractalverse V5: Tertiary edits of 6 more poems

5. Cheapery St. Heroes: BII: Third tertiary edit of chapter five

6. Rapscallion: Read-through of chapter three

7. Gilligan: Off

8. T-Bag: 400 new words
Notes: I think I'm going to like this fan-fic more and more as I write it.

Special Projects: Time permitting later today: work on "Becoming" illustration for Book Three

Extra notes: I'm going to make some chili con carne tomorrow. Very, very tasty. When I was growing up, on the years when it was my turn to choose, I almost always went with chili. It's a perfect Christmas food, a comfort food, warm and filling.

Most historians agree that Jesus wasn't born on December 25, but likely in the spring. They also agree that he wasn't Caucasian. He probably had dark hair and skin. He lived and died a Jew. The true miracles he performed weren't the magic tricks later Christians attributed to him, but his words, the sublime and beautiful moral code that he laid down. Was he the Son of God? Yes, of course he was. But then, so are you; so am I. God has lots of Daughters, too.

He was an illegal immigrant as a baby; his parents refugees fleeing terror and oppression. That the Christian Right doesn't see this and adjust their hateful attitudes towards immigrants today is absolutely insane and damning in a way that the definition of the word doesn't quite cover.

I am a firm believer in God. I was raised Catholic, but no longer practice that faith; in 2003 I became a member of the Unitarian Universalists. I don't go to church, as there isn't a UU congregation for more than eighty miles. That one is very small and very, very old. I practice my faith in solitude and quiet, and with great privacy.

I believe in the power of prayer to heal and guide. I believe any faith worthy of the title must as a prerequisite be demonstrated with hard, hard work--work that must be redoubled once that faith is embraced. I believe there is life after death; but against Christian belief, I don't believe the soul is indestructible. It very much is; and I believe most people destroy their souls in order to make money and fit in. Heaven is a spacious land, almost wholly unpopulated.

Also against Christian belief, I don't believe in Hell. If Hell exists, it's right here, right now. I've seen too much to think anything else. Satan doesn't exist--he isn't necessary when there are millions upon millions of people all too eager to take the post, and just as competent and vicious.

Christmas is a day for me to think of all the good that has been in my life, and all the good that is there now, and, like Thanksgiving, to recognize it and give thanks for it. The same is true of the New Year, and the same is true of my birthday just six days later. I call it the Silly Season because some of that past good is gone while the monsters that destroyed it continue merrily on. The outrage I feel over that, and the depression that often follows, aren't negotiable. I've learned that much in more than half a century of living. Reflection, meditation, and prayer: these are my weapons and my means of escape and growth. I no longer blame God for these tragedies. I don't believe God is omnipotent, as so many people think He/She/It is, or, more precisely, in the sense that they believe He/She/It is. An omnipotent God is for children. I am--or I work daily at being--an adult.

My job, your job, all of our jobs, is to get our spiritual asses out of Hell and into Heaven. Indifference and hate, sloth and bigotry, materialism and corporatism, cultism and fundamentalism ... they won't do it. Hanging on to the moldering robes of a long-dead prophet won't do it either. Living wasteful, consumptive lives won't do it. Obsessing over your Facebook feed won't do it. Making New Years resolutions won't do it.

You know what will. The question is: Do you have the juevos to look at it and start living the kind of life that it'll inevitably demand?

Here's hoping you do. The Earth's very survival depends on it.