Remember

This Remembrance Day, it stands out to me how many people offer their thanks to the veterans and to those serving our country currently. What stood out to me was how vague many of the sentiments were. I thought about it more and realize that it makes sense. Especially, when the second World War (the last war that involved most of an entire generation) ended 70 years ago. I know that even for those who are my peers, some of their grandparents were too young to be a part of the war effort. Even if people do have grandparents who served in the war, many do not hear of their story. Perhaps it was too horrible or perhaps it simply doesn't come up. Many will hear stats such as that there were over 1,000,000 Canadian soldiers with over 42,000 of them dying during the war. Even though those numbers encapsulate many individual tragedies, they are just numbers. Humans have a hard time feeling bad for numbers.

That's why a personal story and a personal connection can turn one of those numbers into a someone we can identify with. It can bring the ideas of sacrifice and honour to a tangible picture.

I wonder if that many people lack that personal connection to someone from that era and although they intellectually understand the danger and sacrifice involved in such an event, maybe they feel detached from it all.

Growing up and going to Remembrance Day services at the school, I recall some of the other students and how disinterested they were in it. Now, I can understand it, but back then I could not.

That's because my own dad was a veteran of World War II. I was invested in those ceremonies because it involved my dad's own friends, classmates and even his other siblings. This was important to him and so it was important for me.

What I want to share with you today is what I can remember from what my dad told me about his experiences and my hope is that it will be a record for my own benefit, but also hopefully for those of you who feel so far away from the war. I want to take one of those numbers and make it real. I realize that I have a unique position of being closely related to someone involved in the war. I got to spend so much time with him because he was retired by the time I was 5. We would go for long walks around Minnedosa in the summer time. Sometimes we would talk about the war and his experiences and it's not until now that I realize how rare and beautiful a gift that was.

My dad, Les Rae, was born in 1925, which means he turned 18 in 1943. Four years of the war had already passed when he was enlisted and join the war effort. My uncle Frank was already over in Italy as artilleryman and my aunt Nina was a radar operator for the Navy. Dad told me about how there was a sense with his friends and peers that they needed to go and join. He told me that a few of the others who were too young would lie about their age and join. It was a sense of duty that drove them. Perhaps even the adventure of it.

He lived in a farming community west of Virden, Manitoba called Two Creeks. He told me about how throughout his teen years, the pilots who were training in their fighter planes would sometimes fly overhead and swoop down and fly right over your head with the roar of the engine blaring in your ear. My dad really wanted to join the air force. When he was old enough, he tried to join, but he was rejected because he failed his eye test. Not to be discouraged, he went to another place where the air force was recruiting and hoped to pass. To his chagrin, he got the same eye doctor and was once again rejected.

Enlisting in the army instead, my dad was sent to Kingston, Ontario which was the major army base of the Canadian Forces and went through basic training. He told me about the gruelling day long hikes with 80 pounds of gear on his back. One of the drills he had to do  was to crawl through the mud underneath barbed wire as they shot live ammo over them to simulate what it was like to crawl through the battlefield. They'd have to make their beds perfect so that if a commanding officer checked, they could bounce a quarter off the perfectly tight bedsheets. To contrast, I take up to an hour to get out of bed in the mornings.

After basic, my dad was assigned to be a signalman, which means he got to ride Harley Davidson motorcycles. Although it was not the same as flying a plane, it was still pretty exciting. The signalman’s job was to hand deliver messages when the officers did not want to use the radios to transmit secret plans. This also meant that the enemy would target the guys on motorcycles first to stop the messages from being delivered. My dad was sent to England for motorcycle training where they had learn how to expertly handle their machines. One of the tests was the riders would have to drive their bikes underneath a wire that was only a foot above the height of the bike and they’d have to duck.

Once done his training, my dad was sent to Germany to join the fight there. He was not there long when the German army surrendered. He was really fortunate given the dangerous role he had. Dad had told me about one signalman who he had met who had been involved at the battlefield. This other signalman was riding along when he stopped and looked around and realized that he was in the middle of a mine field. The enemy was firing at him and the only thing he could take cover behind was his bike. As he took cover, he prayed for the first time in his life. He realized he needed to move. Slowly pushing his bike along, he carefully navigated the field. Once out of the minefield and to safety, the reality of how close he was to death hit him as he looked upon his shrapnel-ridden bike. 

Another one of the stories that stood out to me was about the night the Germans surrendered. He and some of the other signalmen took the local German kids for rides on their bikes. Many Germans hated the war and some of them were opposed to the monster at the top as much as anyone else and were relieved that it was over. 

It's also worth noting that no one really knew of the holocaust while the war was going on. Much of that information came out after the war. Many people were unsure whether to be involved. Especially the United States. The States were cautious and stayed out of it. The presidential election taking place at the time had both candidates promising to not get involved because it was not the job of the United States of America to police the world. Funny how the times change.

Despite the German surrender, the war was not over. My dad was sent down to the southern United States to do some specialized jungle training so that they could send him to fight in Japan. While he training, the Americans dropped the two atomic bombs on Japan which lead to the surrender of the Japanese.

My dad was sent home. In the end, he never participated in any actual fighting. He’d tell me that some of the men who had seen fighting avoided talking about the war and what they saw because it was such a scary memory for them. War for many was not the exciting, flashy action movies and comic book stories that you see. War meant people were putting their lives, their minds and their souls on the line for their country.

I realize that this story is not a flashy story of heroism and sacrifice. One of the things I take away from my dad's story is that there were others like him who didn't have such a happy ending. They shared his hope for adventure and the deep sense of duty for his community. I can see how it was resonate with me to be involved in a such a vital way. This was a way you could have a strong sense of purpose. These men and women would serve selflessly because it was right to help your fellow countrymen.

Another thing that has struck me over the years is the idea that some veterans would not share their experiences because of the emotional trauma of what they saw. It's another kind of wound that would follow them for the rest of the their lives. I never met my uncle Frank. My family always spoke very highly of him. How he was funny, smart and handsome. He died sometime after the war when he was hit by a train as he was walking in Virden. What's interesting is that my family claims that it was an accident. That he didn't hear the train coming because of the wind. It sounds like a comforting lie. I always wondered how the war impacted him. They said he changed after the war. He was one of those that would not speak of his experience. I suppose we'll never know for sure what happened.

It's one of the reasons that I am grateful that my dad didn't experience the horrible realities of war like others faced. Many didn't get that benefit. They either died or came back never the same. Perhaps even living with those memories and unable to purge the horrors from the cages of their mind. 

I hope my dad's story is a reminder that the people who were involved in this war were like the rest of us. That war changes people. That war destroys people. That we must not take war lightly so as not to needlessly endanger those brave enough to defend us. That we push for peace. That we should live well so that the soldiers did not sacrifice themselves in vain.

I tell you this story in hopes that we do not forget and do not repeat.

"Kudos, my hero

Leaving all the best

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary."

- "My Hero" from the Foo Fighters album "The Colour and the Shape"

Love Letter to the Edmonton Comedy Scene

(This post is in regards to an article in Vue Weekly, which you can find here: http://www.vueweekly.com/edmontons-underground-comedy-scene-is-weird-inclusive-and-positive/)

I was recently quoted and interviewed for an article in one of Edmonton's local arts papers that has led to a bit of a stir in the Edmonton comedy scene. The article focused on a supposed "underground" comedy scene (I guess Whyte avenue is considered underground? I wonder if the writer had confused "underground" with "south of the river") and it was presented in such a way that it made it seem like these shows were inclusive while the big comedy clubs and other shows were not. Which is not true.

This has led to many to be upset at such an idea as they should be. The comics that are hard working in the clubs and other shows are not creating an exclusive environment.

Some of their responses have pointed out something to the effect that those interviewed have no authority speaking on comedy because they are so new and/or are bad comedians. Some have indicated that those interviewed are creating a divide or are unfairly insulting fellow comedians. I can't speak for the others in the article. So I won't. I will, however, respond for myself.

I have no idea if my comments were considered to be hurtful or divisive or if it was simply because my name appeared in the article and thus it seemed like I agreed with the content of the article. Perhaps I'm being vain to assume people misunderstood me or even cared what I said. I don't particularly think my opinion is one of any authority in the scene. Some dude asked me questions and I answered them. The problem for me is if people did misunderstand me and felt slighted, then I should clarify myself.

I do believe that what I actually said in the article but not necessarily anything else. I tried to mention in my conversation with the reporter as many of the rooms I could think of including the Druid which was one of the shows that preceded the existence of Dr. Jokes and all of their kin. The Druid and Rouge Lounge are different than the alternative rooms, but they are just as vital.

I like the weird, alternative comedy-leaning rooms because they allowed me to explore concepts and were willing to go with me on my longer story-telling style. As well, like I also said, a comedian needs to do all kinds of rooms. You need to be able to win over crowds that don't innately like you because you're weird and adorable. As Lars Callieou has pointed out to me before, referring to something that Jerry Seinfeld said: "Good crowds help you explore; tough crowds help you edit."

My start in stand up comedy in Edmonton entailed going to the Druid comedy night (hosted by Lars) where I got my emotional teeth kicked in for months. I struggled to write short jokes that got quickly to a punchline and my round about pseudo-Stuart Mclean story-telling style didn't work great with a 5-minute set when a crowd can easily get distracted.

That's when I discovered Dr. Jokes where I was given more time for sets and I could explore premises and stories. It would give me some of my favoured bits that I still enjoy doing.

I still continued to go to the Druid and if forced me to come up with quicker jokes and I'm so thankful for that.

In the end, I do all these shows so that way I can go into the clubs and on the road and bring the best I can there. I would love to work consistently at the clubs, but I want to be good enough that they want me there. As Jim Gaffigan has said, "be so good that you are undeniable". I appreciate the clubs because they bring comedy to all sorts of people. They are a vital part of the engine of giving comics a chance to live and survive doing what they love.

The best part of stand up to me is that if a person feels like they have a point of view that they'd like to share with a crowd (perhaps a crowd of people that would normally disagree with them) you can. You may even plant the seeds to change minds. The only requirement is that you be funny. And you can't become as funny as you can be holed up in the rooms that you feel safe in.

What I'd like to end off this post is something positive. I know this may be hard for some of you comics to swallow but I'm not responsible for your cynicism.

I am thankful for the Druid. It's the first stage I ever performed on after I decided to become a standup comic. It has taught me some critical writing skills that I still need to work on. It also helped prepare me for road shows.

I am thankful for Dr. Jokes for allowing me to explore and giving me a place to figure things out.

I am thankful for Rouge Lounge because it was my great challenge for a long time. My style is weird to them there. That room was my Moby Dick if you will. I still remember the first time I did well there and I am always happy when I do.

I am thankful for the Comic Strip and the opportunity it is in this city. Major headliners come through and you have a chance to perform in front a diverse crowd. When shows are full there, it is so exciting to perform. Plus their joke battle show has lead me to find some of my best bits.

I am thankful for the Empress comedy show and the Underdog comedy show because of the opportunity to play for an engaged audience. I don't have to fight the crowd and I can experiment with some really weird ideas.

I was about to write a list of people to thank. But I realized that that I would likely get me in trouble. Just know that I try to learn from all of you and I appreciate it. Whether its comedy stuff or otherwise. Maybe I'll even tell you in person something instead of some note on the internet.

Just Jokes

It's weird to get a theatre degree and then wait 10 years before you actually start performing in a theatre. I mean, sure, I wrote sketches and videos for churches, camps and for kicks, but I haven't really had the experience of doing acting exercises and rehearsals since college. It has been a lot fun joining up with my improv troupe, Sorry Not Sorry. 

Improv is not really my strength in regards to acting. Normally, I prefer prepared scripts and thought out monologues and I always figured I'm not fast enough on my feet to effectively do improv. Honestly, I'm not as quick as some of the folks in the troupe who seem to have minds that can spontaneously combust into quips and jokes and characters that are funny and entertaining. I will say that my strength lies in my character work. If I can conceive a character, I can make it come to life. I suppose it was all those years of doing monologues with weird characters.

Anyway, that's the background to something that happened that caught me and had me reflecting for the next couple of days. We had a rehearsal where we focused on a long form story and we took suggestions for a location to be used at some point and we went with "church".

What ensued was a story about a new priest who was trying to help out this town that had fallen into a terrible debauchery since the last priest left. There was a couple of brothers who wanted to sabotage the new priest because they feared their pickle empire would suffer (because when people are debaucherous, they eat pickles - improv is weird sometimes). The story was cartoonish as people would switch from bad to good at the mere reading of any phrase in the Bible (or "bibble" as it was called by the unknowing bad people). It was silly and fun and everything turns out well. It was a pretty standard improv story.

After the story, one of the actors felt really apprehensive about doing such a story involving religion. He was concerned that it may come off as offensive to Christians because of the way improv has a natural tendency to trivialize whatever topic is involved. It is true that improv tends to play fast and loose with topics because it has to. If you are stopping and editing yourself, it will lead to a stilted presentation. I could appreciate how he felt about the whole thing. You don't want to make light of someone else's beliefs or philosophies or culture.

Some of you may feel like it may have been inappropriate to take the suggestion of "church" in the first place because that is what would lead to such a potentially hurtful situation. Here's the thing. I was the one who accepted the suggestion of "church" from the crowd. It was one we hadn't done before and I figured that it might be interesting to do.

Now, I have no idea if any one else in the troupe would identify themselves as Christian as so I don't know if they would have taken offence at it. I haven't tried to do the secret handshake to discover the others and so we could conspire to turn the group into a troupe that only does Christian messages and quotes the Bible every scene. (To be clear to everyone, I don't plan on doing that. That would be stupid.)

Admittedly, the way the church and members of the clergy and were portrayed in the scenes were very inaccurate. No one would just turn from selfish ways at the mere mention of a line from Jesus. A town doesn't become a complete den of inequity because there's no priest around. The Bible is not magic in that way. (Funny enough to me, it could have been made into a movie and it would been celebrated as a wonderful Christian film celebrated by the church for it's positive portrayal of Christianity.)

I suppose I had the "right" to be offended. It had took a jokey approach to my faith and could have been construed as being dismissive to my beliefs. This is where I say I shouldn't be offended. It would be stupid of me to be offended. It would be immature of me to be offended. If I would be offended at someone making fun of my faith (especially one where the church were portrayed as the good guys. How often does that happen anymore?) then I would communicate something far more damaging about Christianity that anything joked about. I believe it would communicate that my faith and my God is not strong enough to overlook a joke. It seems to me that if you can't bear to hear a joke about your beliefs then you probably don't believe in that thing very much. Also, it shows that you either lack the intelligence or humility to differentiate when someone is joking and when someone is trying to harm you.

The more defensive you are about your beliefs, the more uncertain you are in those beliefs. If all you hear about my beliefs is how I'm offended at something, then I'm missing out on the opportunity to talk about what is good about my beliefs.

If you can't take a joke, then I can't take you seriously.

"Some people try to find the meaning in life but that's the craziest thing you can do,

Because the meaning behind something as f***ed up as life would have to be pretty f***ed up too.

Some people think a wizard lives up in the sky

And he looks after people after people die

And also there's a monster underneath the dirt

And his job is to trick us into being jerks

But other people think none of that exists

And if you try to argue they get really pissed

The only thing upon which they can all agree

Is at the end of the day there's nothing more crazy that Scientology

People's opinions are all stupid and bizarre

Believing in stuff is mostly crap"

- "Life" from the Success 5000 album "Laughcore"

Ferne

I'll be honest. I don't know how to approach this post. I don't know how to present my reflections in a wonderfully worded way. Hey, alliteration! Maybe this will be alright.

I want to talk about some of my reflections on my mom's passing. For some, they may be interested in hearing how I'm doing. For others, perhaps my weird understanding of things might be interesting. For others, perhaps they'll have a connection to my experience and find some comfort there. Perhaps this is ultimately for myself to remember my thoughts. This is not for everybody. If you don't want to read, you can excuse yourself. By simply clicking on the link to this post, I've already got my view stat up. Yep, I just cracked a joke about my petty nature.

I should start off by stating that I did not have the best relationship with my mom. I really struggled to connect with her on a significant level. Conversations were simply passing information back and forth like we presented each other with headlines from the newspapers of our lives without actually talking about the content of the articles. 

Even when it came to issues about faith, something important to both of us, our understanding and approach to faith were very different. When I hypothesized the idea that perhaps there is no real being commonly referred to as Satan, she responded the next day with every reference of Satan from the Bible. I sighed because I was aware that the name Satan was used. Even if I tried to engage in a conversation about it, she would just point to the word Satan written on the page.

She knew how everyone was connected through the family tree and genealogies. She pointed out that one of the girls on the Summer Ministry Tour team was actually my third cousin once removed. I had no idea. I didn't particularly care either. We would pass a random farmhouse in western Manitoba and tell me who lived there and how we were related. I would turn around and ask, "Could you tell me a story about them?" and she usually couldn't. We found different things interesting.

The idea of family was not that important to me because it seemed to be presented to me that how we were connected to others was more important than actually spending any time with them. We rarely saw the extended family for whatever reason and to me family seemed like an irrelevant concept. Unfortunately, that has stayed with me through these years and even now as I am married, I have a hard time not seeing family as obligation. That's probably going to make me a little unpopular. Admitting that the idea of family is not 100% necessary rarely goes well. I'll let it be an open end because that's not the point here.

When my mom died, it did not make me sad. My emotional reaction was more of mild surprise. The kind of surprise that sounds like, "Oh, today? I guess I'm going to Manitoba." I've never known my mom to be in good health. When the ambulance pulled up to my house 16 years ago, I was surprised that it was my 73 year old dad that they were there for and not my 51 year old mom.

Truth be told, my mom never did recover from my dad's death and the whole experience put a strain on our relationship. Dad was the diplomatic buffer that I didn't realize he was until he was not around for me to go to. If I something that was at all serious, I went to my dad. His passing left me to craft a kind of close relationship that my mom and I never had before then. Our disagreements would not go over well when I would try and make proposals to do something bringing in my history of compliance with laws of the land, my aversion to drugs and alcohol, my known associates to not be larcenous thugs and she would sometimes say 'no' with no rhyme or reason and make me sit at home and do nothing. If I would resist the request, the answer was a very frustrating and insulting, "You never listen to me." The grand generalizations did not sit well with my tendency to see a little more nuance in things. 

Of course, I should make a point to say, that this is from my perspective. Perhaps if you had a third party observing, I would come off as more of a jackass and she was the saintly mother. Who knows? What I do know, is that our own subjective perspectives on those late years of my high school led to an ongoing stain in the relationship that would follow us until the end.

I remember in one of my drama classes in college when we were looking at the Tennessee Williams play "The Glass Menagerie". It is a play about a fatherless family where the demanding mother tries to get her son to help find a man for his sister who was socially awkward. Everyone else in the class was speaking ill of the son in the play as a callous jerk who avoided his family and how could someone be like that to their family? I was the one dissenting voice that said, "I know exactly how comes to be. I am that son."

Mom would call me almost daily when I was at college and even as I was out of school living in Winnipeg. Our calls did not amount much more to: "How are you?" and "So-and-so was asking about you." Sometimes I would try to reach out and try to dig a little, but it wouldn't really go anywhere.

It wasn't until I watched an episode of "Six Feet Under" that my perspective changed a little bit and I grew more sympathetic to my mom (Stories have the most impact on me I've come to realize and maybe that's why I love them so). That's a show about a family who lost their father and now run the funeral home. The characters are a domineering and demanding mother who alienates her children and her three adult children who to varying degrees try to love their mother and run the business. One episode ended where despite how frustrating she acts towards her children, her loneliness is made apparent and you sympathize with her. She doesn't know how to be some other way.

I decided that I would try to be less annoyed in conversations with her and remember that she is who she is and is not trying to frustrate me.

I should point out that my mom also was not nearly as extreme as the examples in the stories I just mentioned. There were similarities. My mom was sincere in her faith regardless of my dislike of her approach to it. It was due to her and dad that I went to church and through it all explored faith on my own. My mom was not domineering. She wanted the best for Darwin and I. It was just that she didn't know how to go about helping us do it. She was always supportive of my own life decisions.

The biggest lesson that I learned from her life is just how important it is to find a way to move on in a positive manner. My mom experienced difficulty in her relationship with her own mom. Her mom seemed to put far too many demands on her and had an unfair bias against her. (At least that's how it my mom explained it to me. I have no idea what grandma's perspective on it was. Wouldn't it be nice to know the other side of the story? That's why I want to remind myself and all of you reading this that this is a subjective perspective.) My mom felt she was a victim of her mom's actions. When my dad died, she wanted to find love with another person and could not get past dad's death. I haven't lost a spouse of my own, but I did lose dad at an early age and I try to not let that dictate what I do now.

The last thing I want to share in regards to this was when Darwin, Kyla and I were combing through mom's apartment looking for important paperwork that we would need to deal with all the legal stuff. We came across a binder that kept track of the people that she had helped with taxes. She used to work for H & R Block and after she continued to offer her services to those in Minnedosa and had done Darwin's and my own taxes. The binder started in 2007 and it had a sheet that had a table listed all of the people that were her customers for that year. It kept track of their names, numbers, addresses, etc. The sheet was hand made and carefully made. It was neat, clean, organized. And it had 20 names listed. With blank spaces for more customers. I didn't think much of it. I was looking for pertinent information that I would need for funeral arrangements and for estate management. Later in the binder, I found another sheet with a carefully made handcrafted table of her tax return customers. I noticed it was a couple of names shorter. I found 2009, 2010. Each made with the same perfect columns and rows. Each made with plenty of spaces in case of a growing customer base, but each year it retained fewer and fewer names. I found the 2011 table. Only 4 customers remained. My brother, myself and two others I didn't know. It was the first time in the whole process of Mom dying that I felt pain. Especially since I knew what to expect on the 2012 list.

The 2012 tax return customer list held only two names and the hope that 25 others would fill in the rest. It was brother's name and another person from Minnedosa. My name was not there. That's because she had messed up my taxes due to my moving around to other provinces and she didn't file it right. It wound up causing hassles and repayment to the government. I had trusted Mom to know all the dynamics of how to handle the nuances of tax returns, but she didn't. Perhaps it was because she had less and less practice over the years since leaving H & R so many years before alongside with the ever changing tax code.

Regardless, it bothered me that it she mishandled it and I decided it would just be easier for me to just figure it out on my own.

I had vacated my space on the tax return customer list. And it broke my heart in that moment sitting in the middle of her small apartment. It was the moment that encapsulated how our relationship was.

My mom was not (in my mind) a great mom with me. She wasn't horrible or in any way abusive. She just had characteristics that crawled under my skin and had issues that she did not deal with and it was alienating. However, on the other end, I did not know how to deal with her. Despite my own understanding that loving and caring for your family is important, I didn't know how to navigate an honest and loving relationship with her. In the end, if people would know what our relationship, it would look like I had removed my name from her list of people.

The truth is, I believe that death was a release for her. I have said before that she died when Dad did, it is just her physical body was still going. That's a little dramatic perhaps, but a little true.

Lydia Elizabeth Ferne Rae was a woman who did not want to be the harsh, demeaning mother hers was to her and never told me what I could not be. She wanted Darwin and I to do what we chose to do. That is a gift that some do not get. She spoke highly of us and hoped the best for us. She cared for us the best she could despite me.

What is the take away for you, the reader? I don't know. I suppose I encourage you to find ways to understand your own parents. Sympathize with them.

One idea that I've had comes from the Commandment from the Old Testament that says "Honour your father and your mother." The common understanding is that you should obey your parents. It does not say that though. People who get to the point that they rebel against their parents, they often simply avoid everything the parents hold dear. Especially if you come from a Bible-believing household where "Honour your father and your mother" is used as the argument to obey them. However, it may be reckless to toss everything. I think what "Honour your father and your mother" is touching on is that your remember them. Learn from them. Learn from the good, the bad. I believe that that is the best way to honour their legacy. Try and understand them. You have the advantage of knowing them better than most others. You do not get to see the good, the bad and ugly sides of a person like your parents and you would do well to learn from them regardless of whether they were close and loving or distant and apathetic or angry and violent.

I hope this post honours my mom in what I've learned from her, what I've learned about my own nature and perhaps insight for another.

"Now my curtain has been drawn
And my heart can go
Where my heart does belong
I'm going home"
- "Reunion" from Collective Soul's self-titled album

Seasons Change and So Did I

Why not an update, hey? It's been a thing I've been avoiding because I don't really need another creative avenue to express myself. I've been doing stand up and that's been enough when most of my week is just standing behind a counter in a Costco just hoping I don't look like I hate being there.

Perhaps some of you may be thinking that I'm going to talk about my mother's passing here, but not now. It will need it's own post to reflect upon and it's my blog and I'll write what I want. Sorry, that got snippy for no reason.

Comedy has been getting better. I've been finding myself get more confident on stage and being able to delve into some personal stories and ideas. Even exploring aspects about faith and my weird experiences with sexuality growing up in the church which I never really thought I would. However, as much fun as it is to do a silly dinosaur, I've found the most rewarding thing is to share something personal. One of my strengths in comedy is finding a way to be vulnerable and yet at the same time be entertaining enough to share those vulnerable thoughts. It's been nice to have people say afterwards that they've never heard anything like that before or that they have had a similar experience and they felt a connection.

At this point, comedy continues to draw me forward and I have a couple of opportunities that I'm looking into that would be real exciting, but I'm not going to say here in case it doesn't work out. Before I started to focus on this, I told myself that I'd give myself 2 years to completely suck at it before I would reconsider and now that I'm at the year and a half mark, I don't completely suck at it. And that was from a comic that used to think there was no hope for me. So, I'll stick it out a little longer at least.

Marriage is obviously the other major change in my life and goes along. I will say it is a little more difficult to fully express myself about the matter because although I am okay with sharing my personal thoughts, experiences and struggles, I now have to be considerate of my wife's privacy. One thing that has struck me about the whole thing so far is how much of introvert and solitary person I was and am. With another person around most of the time, I find myself trying to carve out time to be completely separated, not because I do not enjoy my time with Kyla, but rather my mind cannot wander and think and explore when it is also subconsciously checking in on her when she is nearby.

On the flip side, spending time with her has made me be more silly. Sillier that I've ever really been. Making stupid faces at each other and playfully teasing each other. Stuff that would make anyone sick to actually witness and so we hide that it happens just like the Tanners hid Alf or like I hide the fact that I play way too much Candy Crush on Facebook.

By the way, let me apologize if updates of me playing that appeared on your newsfeed. I have no idea how Facebook works anymore as I found out when it leaked out before I intended that Kyla and I were in a car accident.

Which is another thing that happened on my birthday. Between figuring out the legal stuff with mom's death, figuring out how taxes change when you're married and experiencing how insurance claims work, I now feel like an adult. Being a cog in the wheel of bureaucracy with no end to the stupidity of paperwork and obligations until it squeezes the last bit of life out of your soul. You know, an adult.

Don't read into that. I'm being silly.

Something I've noticed after all these major changes that I've had in my life is that the ever present low level of depression that followed me still continues to linger regardless of the changes. I understand when they say it's not a thing you can just will away with a better attitude. It's like a lens that colours everything just a little greyer.

"Hey, wait. Aren't you the idiot that does the stupid dinosaur thing? You of all people shouldn't be mopey. Maybe ashamed. But not mopey!"

The challenge I've found throughout my whole experience is not being silly and pointing out stupidity. The challenge is finding the things that are not silly and then allowing yourself to earnestly enjoy those things. It is common to see when people are being funny, they are tearing down something or someone or some idea and that can be so much fun. However, if everything is ripped apart then what is left to enjoy? It's easy to point out the ridiculousness of things. Whatever it may be. However, the people that can expertly rip things apart also seem to be the most miserable.

The folks I appreciate the most are the ones that take the less easy route of being genuine and kind. I try to model myself after that. Telling comedians specifically which jokes I like or giving them words that build them up. It feels weird to do it. I'm analyzing myself as I do it and I'm afraid I look like I'm just trying to butter them up so I can get something out of them later or I feel a sense of vulnerability at the hand of people that could turn around and perfectly eviscerate me with their words.

Being in Edmonton and starting a new life here has been strange. I feel especially disconnected from my friends in Winnipeg and it feels like a different dimension going back there. Many of them have kids and have been married for a while and in the middle of careers and the last time we talked in depth has been years. It's not anybody's fault because it is just how life goes. It gets busy and time is rare commodity.

This post doesn't have the same element of some significant reflection as some of my other ones, but that's because this is just to be a form of personal update for those curious. I hope to share more when I have time. Which may be a while...

"No time for a summer friend
No time for the love you send
Seasons change and so did I
You need not wonder why
You need not wonder why
There's no time left for you
No time left for you."
- "No Time" from the The Guess Who album "American Woman"

Until I Can Exert My Will Telepathically, This Will Have to Do

I remember having a sense of dread on the night Barack Obama was first elected in 2008. I saw all the people in Chicago celebrating and weeping as they watch Mr. Obama take to the podium and give a hope filled speech about what America could be. The dread was not because I believed that Obama was dooming America to a reign of terror for the next four years. In fact, Barack Obama was precisely the guy I wanted to take office. It would be a refreshing change from the previous eight years of a president that had profoundly disappointed me.

What I dreaded was not that Obama would be a bad president. It was that people expected him to be a perfect president. People had such high hopes in him that it was going to be impossible to fulfill it all. The president is only one piece of the American political machine. It's just as ridiculous to believe that Washington would all fall in line with Obama's hopes as it is ridiculous that every problem in America is because of Obama. I believe that for the most part, Obama has been a really good president. He's made decisions that haven't been the greatest, yes, but I admire the his push to bring about universal health care which I believe should be one of the least things that a Christian nation should have.

However, I knew on that election night how democracy works. Change happens slowly and often too slowly and the reason to blame always comes down to the guy trying to make the change. If Obama's vision of America would come true, I would be on board, but it won't happen.

I don't believe that government and laws really do much. Thinking that the world will right itself under the right leader or with the right law change and getting caught up in that too much is a waste of time frankly.

Right now in Manitoba, a bill is being presented that addresses the issue of bullying. It seeks to protect children from bullying and mandate that schools should allow for gay-straight alliances in the school. From my reading, it's not that they have to have it, but rather if people want to put together one in a school, the school has to allow it. This has caused a bit of a backlash in some conservative circles that fear that this is a step in taking away the authority of Christian schools. They claim the bill is too vague and that it could be used to attack religious schools. Some towns have rejected the bill and it has rallied the conservative Christians. In reaction to that, proponents of the bill have gone to defend the bill and has accused the opponents of being bigoted.

My perspective on the whole thing is that regardless of whether the bill gets passed or not, it won't really change anything. At best, it highlights the ongoing discussion of homosexuality and the progression of society towards being accepting of the GLBT community. However, there are many things in life that just because it's some rule, doesn't mean you should just turn off your thinking and go along with it blindly. Rather, it is important to know why or why not you do things you choose to do.

I was talking with someone at a church and they were lamenting that their church was no longer supporting the choir. She genuinely wished that the choir would still get together and have a place in her church. I felt for her and I know some people would love it, too. However, is it the church leadership's responsibility to make sure there is a choir? If you wish to have a choir, then why don't you start rallying people to get a choir together? If other people share the love of choir, then you can get together, practice and make a night of it. If others don't share it, then try and convince them to see the benefits. If it works out, great. Maybe you can make it a regular thing. My point is that I believe that many things you wish to see just need to go out and be done.

Whenever I wanted to do a comedy show, I asked the church to use their building and I did one. When I wanted to do a "24 day", I planned, recruited and did it. That's been my general philosophy. Don't expect to be helped and if you are helped, then be grateful for it. If the church did not want me to do one, then you look for a different venue. You determine how much a given action means to you.

If you will excuse the clumsy "stuck on an island" scenario: Let's say I was stranded on an island with the person I loved and it seemed like we may never leave and I knew this is the person I would marry. We then decide to exchange vows in front of the survivors (or failing that, various sporting equipment that happened to be on the plane that we've painted faces onto). Are we married or not? No government recognizes it. We've decided to stick by each other's side forever, but I don't have legal documents. Is it a "pretend" marriage?

Admittedly, once we get back to the mainland, we may want a "real" ceremony when we get back, but why? Isn't it so that our loved ones can join in the celebration? However, that "real" ceremony will not change the minds of the family on whether they support you as a couple or not. When things are "official" it doesn't really affect people's hearts in accepting it.

I may make it seem like I'm just ignorantly sweeping away the political process out of the way and that I don't want to participate in society. That's not what I'm saying, I'm saying that legislation and rules are not the things that change the hearts and minds of people and ultimately culture. If you force people to go to church every Sunday and make them declare that Jesus is Lord, that doesn't mean there is any change in those people. That is the kind of approach that the Roman Empire had and it didn't work. It was the Christians who didn't depend on legislation being in their favour and rather focused on living like Christians that led to a cultural impact.

It's nice when the law of the land is always in your favour, but that doesn't matter that much. If you believe that there should be gay-straight alliances allowed in schools, why are you waiting for the government to give you the go ahead? You may say, "But my school won't let me." How? How are they preventing you? Are they coming in a disrupting the meetings? Are people coming around to beat you up there? Are they tearing down the posters? Are they calling you names? It sucks, but do you really think the attitudes will change once you have the law on your side? They will still continue to berate you and belittle you. And if it's truly the cultural change you wish to see, you will continue to take it on the chin.

If you think that I unsympathetic to your cause, it's not that, but rather that is the reality of cultural change. It's the persecution that the Christians faced for a long time before it became accepted. It was (and still is in some places) the persecution that black people face in America as they fought (and still fight) for equality. One of the best examples of this comes from this kid who would be affected by Bill 18. What I appreciate is that he initially started without the aid of the schools. He just did it. He's facing the consequences and it would suck to be in his position, but it's an approach like that that ultimately works. Legislation will not be the answer.

For those on the flip side of the argument, do you think rules are going to change anything? If you are opposed to what this bill because you believe that it will force the hand of the school, do you think that your Christian school is going to bring about the change you want to see from your fortress?

Cultural change has to start in the hearts and minds of folk and has little to do with government. I think one of the reasons that protesting to get the laws changed or not changed is because it is hands off. Yeah, protests might get you arrested or banged up or ridiculed, but it's also at a distance and you become a hero in your own camp, but it changes no minds. To see change in people it requires for us to have relationships with people. It requires for us to continue to be near people that maybe we disagree with.

The hard thing about changing the minds of folk in this day is that it's easier to find people who think like us and to block out the other side (except in anonymous pot shots across the internet where the enemy is a carefully chosen avatar of a sports team or movie character). When the person is summed up as faint-hearted liberal or fear-mongering conservative, then it is easy to dismiss their point of view, even if their journey to that point might be more nuanced that we'd like to believe.

Relationships demand for us to be present. Relationships require us to see each other as whole people. One of the reasons that racism is such a hard obstacle for society to get over is because for some individuals, they've never known a person of another race beyond his or her occupation. They see other races from an arm's length to keep them from attempting to understand what it's like to be the other race. If all people know of me as a Christian, they fill in all sorts of blanks without getting to know that perhaps I'm a little more complicated than that.

Fighting for or against laws and rules does have a place, but in the midst of it all, remember that it's really a tiny part. The hard part is in the actual living it out. The hard part is remembering that other side are human, too. The hard part is relationships and it's the only way anything will change.

"Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'."
- Title track from Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin'"

I Am Myself Like You Somehow

Today is a the day that marks the moment where I have spent half my life with my dad and half my life without him. I figured I should write something in regards to it.

A month ago, Kyla and I went out to Manitoba and we visited a few people, but the main reason we went was so I could visit dad's gravesite. That was the true reason for the trip. I'm a proponent of the act of remembering and it's importance. If you don't take time to remember, you may forget what good things you have or had. You may repeat history that shouldn't be because you did not remember it. I believe it can help you stay humble and grateful.

You should stay in the present and not dwell in the past, but I believe you can find wisdom for your present situation in the past. Remembering the past is a part of reflection that can help refine us as long as we don't let our past define us. I did not intend to rhyme there.

However, when I finally got to the cemetery and stood in front of the simple Canadian military gravestone in foot deep snow, I couldn't remember. I couldn't recall what dad was like. I haven't been able to recall his voice for years. The image in my head of him is one of a quickly fading photograph. Quick glimpses. I can't recall his words to me, only ideas.

I was thinking about how he died as I was in grade 9 and how he would have been my source for advice for after the silliness of high school would be passed. I know there were things we could have talked about but didn't because I wasn't old enough to care or understand.

It feels like a treasure chest I had and then it fell overboard and is now lost to the sea.

That's all I could reflect on there. We left there and as we left, I couldn't help but feel like it was fleeting. It didn't feel like much. It is simply too long ago. The hurt is now not so much of the grief of the loss of his life, but the grief of the loss of my memory of him.

I don't want to forget him, but I am.

Recently, two youths I know have lost their dad. I didn't know how to reach out to them, to be truly honest. I remember when dad passed, a man from the church told me about how his dad died when he was young and although we were connected in that regard, it didn't necessarily help. I found a lot of the words said by people, Bible verses quoted by people, to be medication for the symptoms. 

In the end, the best way to deal with the grief, is to not avoid it. The one thing that the guys in the story of Job did right was to sit with Job in mourning. Their misstep is when they tried to solve it when he didn't ask them to. It will pass. In the meantime, remember them and learn from them.

I've thought about the idea of "Honouring your father and your mother." One of the Ten Commandments that is frequently taken to mean, obey your parents or the wrath of God will be on your head. It's weird, because those are two different thoughts. If a parent is abusive or neglectful, it would be weird to demand that we demand that children be dominated by that.

Honestly, I think the best way to honour anyone, would be by learning from them. Learn from the good things they've done and the mistakes they've made and perhaps more importantly, why. Understand that your parents are people who are trying to take what they've been given and trying to figure out what to do with it. Some do it well and some do it terribly. If your dad was abusive, the way you can honour him is by trying to understand why he was. Was he abused when he was young and so the language taught to him was one of violence? Have you picked up the same kind of language yourself that you need to be aware of or address? The cycle of abuse I believe can be due in part to idea that people think that they think they won't be like their parents, but because it was the only way they know how to deal with things, then the only answer available is the one that was taught to them.

I know the one thing that stuck out for me about my dad was his perseverance. He worked hard even when it was difficult or was thankless. He never complained and did what needed to be done. Why did he do it? I think it was because he found motivation inside himself. He didn't need to be pushed to do something, but rather he intrinsically knew that if he didn't do it, no one would and so he would do it. I find that many people will look for any excuse to get out of doing things, but when I think of who my dad was, it's his character that pushes me to step forward.

Regardless of whether your parents were fantastic or terrible, the best thing for us is to honour them. Honouring them, requires us to remember them and learn from them.

I think what makes this whole thing difficult for me is that I haven't taken time to reflect in general, recently. Time is dwindling away now that I'm working full time and doing comedy part time and so when the break in the whirlwind comes and I have that moment in front of the grave, all I can hear is the noise of the wind that's coming.

That's why I tried to write this today. To stop and remember to slow down to reflect on where I am every once in a while and be grateful for the good things in my life and see where I'm going. I'm sorry, if this was a little scattered, but my thoughts on this tend to scatter.

"I see the world

Feel the chill

Which way to go

Windowsill

I see the words

On a rocking horse of time

I see the birds in the rain

Oh, dear dad

Can you see me now?

I am myself

Like you somehow

I'll ride the wave

Where it take me

I'll hold the pain

Release me"

- "Release" from the Pearl Jam album "Ten"

Why There Aren't Many Good Martian Comedians

I've been trying my hand at stand up comedy for the last few months and one thing that stood out to me is that I have yet to see too many good Martian comedians on the Edmonton scene. You know, a comedian with a different perspective and approach to life in the old Milky Way galaxy and at the same time make me laugh. I look at the comedians around me and I think, "Man, us Earthlings really outnumber Martians." To be fair, maybe more of them are Martian, but sometimes it's hard to tell. The lighting, their choice of clothes and some are really good at hiding their methane-filtering blowhole. If you find that offensive, look it up. That's what is called.

I sometimes hear the complaints that there should be more Martian comedians and that comedy is an "earthlings' club" and thus make it sound like that I, as a oxygen-breathing bi-pod, am somehow a part of the problem of denying Martians their shot at comedy. Thus I am contributing to denying human culture of some sort of sitcom that follows the day-to-day of a Martian clanpod as they deal with wacky situations that will get wackier (but not because of their Martianish) and then resolve in a feel-good lesson about life. Possible names for the show: "Martians with Children" or "The Robin Williams Show")

I mean, it makes sense to me that should be more Martian comedians in Edmonton. There are a lot of Martians out there and it seems logical that the folks who have discovered the secret to interplanetary travel and dryer sheets should have the capability to be funny. However, the handful of times I've seen an amateur Martian perform on stage, it has been lacklustre to say the least.

They have tended to go towards the cliched "Earthlings always eat their food like this/Martians always latch their tendrils into the skulls of their prey like this" jokes or talk about their plasma metamorphosis rituals. It is aggravating because I want the Martian to be funny, but they go for the hack (or shortcut) joke. For some of my fellow humanoid comedians, this is an indication that Martians are not funny or and the ones who are more widely regarded funny (such as Gorblarch C.K. or Demetri Martian) are the exceptions. Unfortunately, this is what ticks off the crowd who believe that Martians are very much funny and the whole thing turns ridiculous on both sides when there doesn't need to be sides.

I believe that the reason that there are few good Martian comedians is simply that they're a minority and being a minority in a given situation makes the task tougher. Look, the bulk of Martian comedians suck. There is a 90% chance that you go and watch a rookie Martian comedian, they'll be nervous and use weak  jokes and can't engage the audience. However, you need to remember that the bulk Earthling comedians suck too. I've seen so many Earthlings use terrible hack jokes too. I've heard so many "Isn't it weird how we breath oxygen with our mouths" jokes or jokes that always relate to the size of their nasal cavities. Unfortunately, Earthlings are such petty creatures that we will be more okay with our cliched jokes and yet roll our vision orbs at the Martians.

One reason why there aren't more great Martian comedians is that there aren't a lot of Martians even trying to do comedy. The shear vast number of Earthlings trying comedy means that statistically it makes sense that there are more well-known and talented humanoid comedians than those with glowing thoraxes even though the bulk of them stink all the way to Mercury.

Regardless of what gas you intake for life, what makes a comedian great is how they can connect with their audience and bring their personal experience to others in an engaging way. But that's bloody difficult and takes time. How do you get there? I'm still figuring it out and perhaps I never will.

The bigger problem for the Martian is not that they lack the ability to be as funny as the Earthling, but rather it can be difficult when there aren't others that empathize with you. If you're the only one of your kind doing comedy, it can seem daunting. It can seem like the others are keeping you out. Reality is that most of the comedians are not trying to exclude anybody. They just want to get their slice of the laughter pie (which is something like a flougaboo for my Martian readers but with laughs instead of crystallized argon). Most comics, whatever their stripe or carapace shape, will be excluded.

So how do we get more good Martian comedians? The same as how we get good Earthling comedians. They have got to keep going up and work on it and refine and fail and keep trying. We can't just move up Martian comedians due to them being Martian. They, just like every other comedian will have to overcome the barrier between them and the audience. Some audience that can be easier than others and hopefully you can overcome that. However, to blame other comedians or even the audiences for your inability to succeed in getting them to laugh is not going to make you a better comic. Comedy is one form of entertainment with a pure response. You as the performer, know if the audience finds it funny, thought-provoking, boring, silly or understandable. Did they laugh? Smile? If not, then they didn't find it funny.

A Martian comedian will have to be a pioneer. A pioneer in the sense that it may feel like they're the only one. Which, I think that's what every comic kind of feels like anyway. If one wants to be a minority, then they will continue to see themselves as one. Instead of lowering the standards of Martian comedians, I would encourage the Martian comedian to push hard to not be the best Martian comedian they can be, but the best comedian they can be and know that they will essentially be doing it on their own.

If you're not a comedian, then I encourage you to give the comedian on stage a chance to do his thing regardless of the amount of similarity to you. You don't have to bend your tastes just to say you like them. In fact you owe it to them to give them a fair shot one way or the other. If you don't think that the Martian on stage is funny, then let that be the reason, not your prejudice against their unfamiliar exoskeleton.

You know why I have a hard time writing this. Because I'm an Earthling. I'm the majority. The world has given me all these advantages that I didn't ask for. Some say I can't fully understand the plight of the minority. Maybe they're right. Maybe I should just be quiet.

Or maybe, just like the comics who have to be funny in order to be called funny, maybe my insight can be judged by the content of what I'm saying. Isn't that what every carbon-based being deserves?

"You're a zero
What's your name?
No one's gonna ask you
Try and hit the spot, get to know it in the dark
Get to know it whether you're crying, crying, crying, oh, oh
Can you climb, climb, climb higher?"
- "Zero" from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs album "It's a Blitz"

No More Excuses

It is about time that I write an update of my life. Especially since so much has changed. I am now a resident of the city of Edmonton. Frankly, I never expected to find myself here. It is not a city I would choose under typical circumstances.

The reason it's Edmonton and not some other city is simply because the girl I'm engaged to is here. I would have gone back to Winnipeg or headed west to Vancouver. I've an aversion to Alberta in general probably because I see it as one of those "have" provinces and I have that thing where I cheer for the underdog. Big deal, you were successful because you were given everything? Who cares?

This is where I show my hand. The fact is, I was afraid to really put myself on the line and go to a place where I would be gambling. When I was in Winnipeg and casually perform skits and present videos at camps or church when people asked me to, but I never actively pursue it, I would fall back on: "I don't have a safety net if the comedy thing doesn't work out so I have to be responsible and not take a chance." It wouldn't really be my fault if I didn't go anywhere in comedy it would be the situation I was in to blame.

The fact is that I would never go anywhere with an attitude like that. If I said, "Oh, if only I lived in New York, then it would be a different story," then I would be lying. I would most likely find some other reason that I was not trying it.

It really doesn't matter where I wound up, I needed to start putting myself on the line. I needed to get back to a city. It didn't really matter where. Edmonton was as good as any to attempt my run at comedy. I've been here close to a couple of weeks and I'm antsy to get onstage even though I'm not really sure how to do it. Stand up is a harsh thing to get into due to the fact that you can only refine your jokes in front of a crowd. I'm going to have to face failure and often.

Last night, I was at a bar that had a comedy night and I was watching one of the worst crowds talking over the comedians. Some guys just left the stage halfway through there bit. I was talking to one of the comedians afterward and he said that this was actually one of the better nights there.

You may ask, "Why are you even bothering to do this? It sounds terrible." I'll be honest with you. I don't know what else is going to give me drive in terms of something to do. Getting my self esteem kicked on stage nightly in the hopes of becoming a comedian seems better than anything else.

I just got a job at a cell phone store in a mall. As I was filling out the paperwork, I was already wanting to quit. The ideals of a store like that make me cringe. I know that I can do it, but it will be doing the thing that disgusts me the most. I know I can do well at it, but it will eat at me everyday I'm there.

I've had some people tell me that I should pursue ministry in a formal capacity and I wonder about that. I don't know if some of my thoughts on the spiritual journey would really be welcomed. I would have to say things up front with my fingers crossed behind my back. I have many thoughts that are right up the alley that Christians eat up and they are received well, but I know I'm coming at it from a different perspective in mind that many would not agree with and I would hide my thoughts. If I became a pastor in a formal sense, I would be less of a pastor in the true sense.

I am currently able to speak into people's lives that challenge them and give a vital hope that only the gospel of Christ can offer, but it would disappear if I sat behind the desk. I would be in the same predicament as I am now at the cell phone store.

So, if I can't be a pastor, then I should be with the people that I can speak to. I'm doing the cell phone thing until I can get my comedy up on its feet. People don't understand why I want to do comedy. I am simply looking for drive. I want something that is can fuel me and keep me going.

For me, the struggle is not about finding the thing that will give me success and wealth and it's not about finding the thing that I can do well. The struggle has been to find that thing that will give me drive. I'm coming to realize that the thing that will give me drive requires me to do the toughest thing of all and be honest in all senses of the word.

"In these bodies we will live,
In these bodies we will die,
Where you invest your love,
you invest your life
Awake my soul...
Awake my soul...
Awake my soul...
For you were made to meet your maker"
- "Awake My Soul" from the Mumford & Sons album "Sigh No More"

More Than Happiness

Last week, I wrote a second article on behalf of the Covenant Church and I have not gotten around to posting to this blog, so here it is.

If you asked people, "What does a quality life look like?" a common response would be one full of happiness. It's what inspires people to get as much money as possible to get a comfortable lifestyle. It's what drives others to become a celebrity at all costs. For others it is to pass all their days staring at a screen and yet others to delve into lifestyles that can potentially hurt themselves or others for short term happiness.

Jesus, however, seems to indicate that happiness may not be the secret to a quality life. After all, if you need money or celebrity or video games, then that means the only people that can attain quality life are those who are rich or born in the right part of the world and it often is focused on the happiness of the individual at the cost of the strength of the community.

In Luke 9:23, Jesus says, "If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross daily, and follow me." According to Jesus, the best life lived is difficult. Why does it have to be this way?

What I believe many people call a quality life is really just medicating yourself from fully living life. A quality life means enjoying the good things in life, but also not shying away from dealing with pain in our lives and not just sedating yourself with temporary happiness. It means looking to our fellow humanity and "be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those that weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don't be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people." (Romans 12:16) It means struggling against injustice for people crushed by an unfair world.

It can be very easy to live a life where you medicate yourself from engaging in all of life, but by doing so, I believe you let life pass you by. Following Jesus is by no means easy, but it also means life is fully lived. As Jesus says in John 10:10, "The thief's purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is give them a rich and satisfying life."

A quality life is not defined by happiness, but rather by how much you live life fully, both the good and the bad, and living life with each other. Don't cling to temporary happiness while the thief robs you of a full life.


"Do you want to hear something sad?
We are but victims of desire
I'm gonna shake this day
I wanna shake this day before I retire"
- "Gonna See My Friend" from the Pearl Jam album "Backspacer"

Heaven Beside You

This is the article that was published in the Nelson Star on June 8th.

If I were to be honest with you, one of the concepts that unnerves me the most is the idea of eternity. In my finite mind, I am unable to conceive an afterlife that I would want to never end. Even if I could do everything I ever wanted to do all day, it would seem to me that eventually I would like to simply stop.

I've never fully comprehended why some people are so desperate to get to heaven because I can't conceive of a heaven that would be eternally satisfying.

You may be wondering how in the world was this guy allowed to write in the faith section. Isn't it foundational to the Christian faith to have confidence in life in the hereafter? I'm not saying that heaven does not exist, but rather that I don't know what it looks like. This is what I do have confidence in: whatever the afterlife is, whether it is a heavenly city with roads paved with gold or it is a simple fading away into nothingness, it will be as it should be.

I point to Matthew 6 where Jesus says, "So don't worry about these things, saying, 'What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?' These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.

"So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today."

Although this passage is speaking about the here and now, I believe it carries into the afterlife. I don't know what the afterlife holds. It might be so great that my mind would be blown away and I will think that I was silly to ever doubt it. However, it will be taken care of and its not my place to be responsible for it and for who is in and who is out.

What I am responsible for is the pool of resources entrusted to me, the sphere of influence I have and the opportunities to bring peace and love that are the hallmarks of the kingdom of heaven.

It is too easy to let this present world burn and dream about the perfection of a future heaven and forget that we can have heaven here and now, bringing it to our fellow humankind. Let God worry about the rest.

What is heaven like? I don't know. However, I do not believe the point of being a Christian is to go to heaven when you die. I think the point is to join God in bringing His kingdom of love, peace, justice and mercy (or in a word, heaven) to a world in desperate need of it.

"Left to right,
Up and down, love
I push up love, love everyday,
Jump in the mud, oh
Get your hands dirty with
Love it on everyday"
- Title track from Dave Matthews Band's album "Everyday"

Rico's Venn Diagram of The Elusive Profitable Audience

If you're wondering what this is all about, it has to do with my friend Rico's video seen here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdG2Rqt6ngA

The End of the Story

It is Easter weekend and I figured that it was time for another post about something. We had a Tenebrae service last night, which was quiet and sombre as we reflected on the death of Jesus. The thought that went around in my head last night was the idea of Jesus embodying Israel.

I got this idea from a lecture series that Chris had given me done by N.T. Wright that went through the book of Romans. Wright repeatedly came back to this idea of Jesus being the embodiment of Israel. Israel was seen as from the Jewish perspective of the time to be the saviour of the world and they had failed because of their consistent turning away from God's law and were in exile. Even though they had been returned to their land, they still viewed themselves to be in exile because they were under the control of Rome. They were looking to be reconciled with God through a Messiah and get their political independence back and thus return to their ordained place as the salvation of the world.

The idea that I had never really heard before though was this idea that Jesus came to embody Israel and did what Israel was supposed to do but could not. He fulfilled the law and redeemed Israel and became the salvation of the world according to Christian theology.

The idea of Jesus being the embodiment of a whole society was an intriguing idea to me. Especially last night as I considered the idea of Israel rejecting Jesus and killing Jesus. I'll take a moment to also say, that the Roman Empire is more to blame for the death of Jesus and I am aware that there some of the anti-Jewish sentiment found in the Bible regarding Jesus may have been influenced by later generations when Rome took Christianity up as the religion of the empire. However, the rejection of Jesus by the Jews is still there.

What I find intriguing is this interesting metaphor found in the story. If Jesus embodies the high ideals of the nation of Israel and Israel is at least partly responsible for the death of Jesus, then it is like the nation of Israel being it's own enemy.

In the past, I have had a hard time understanding how does this story about a man dying two thousand years ago makes me free. This law that was put in place long after the creation of humanity needed to be fulfilled and so it was, but I am still guilty under a law that has been fulfilled before I was born and that the act of forgiveness goes forward to events not done yet? How can you forgive something that hasn't happened yet?

If someone came up to me and told me that I'm breaking the laws of hockey when I raise a stick above my shoulders and that I have been penalized and should sit out for two minutes, then I would tell you that the rules of hockey don't apply outside the game of hockey. That's how Old Testament law felt to me. And then to tell me that you would be willing to forgive me and if I just accept the Euro Hockey League as my only source of hockey, then I would wonder how any of that has to do with me. And if I did accept the Euro Hockey League's offer of forgiveness for breaking a law outside of it's time and place and you then ordained me as a full-fledged hockey player. That was a very strange analogy, but strangely, very fitting to my point.

My understanding of the story has changed and it rang true again for me. This story may not have as much to do with the law as it may seem. Yes, for the people of the time, it had everything to do with the law and the forgiveness of transgressions against the law. However, there is a more substantial story going forward. If Jesus embodied the Self of the nation of Israel, then one of Israel's biggest enemies was itself. The Self rejected the heroic version of the Self. The Self was one of the instruments that led to the very death of the Heroic Self because it refused to embrace him and his new law of ridiculous love.

As I have stated briefly before in a post, I do not believe that there is a Satan and even if there is one, he ultimately holds no power because we are the one who make the choices in our life. However, I will say that there is a devil that holds dominion over you. One that will continually lead you to usurp your actions. One that forces you to make decisions that you know your Heroic Self would not. One that makes you foolishly defiant to the face of God and will even kill the Son of God. If you know my writing by now, you know the answer is You. The heart-breaking realization that you are not what you want to be morally or otherwise because it is your Profane Self that holds you prisoner. It is your Profane Self that keeps the record of your sins and transgressions and failings as evidence that you cannot possibly be the Daughter or Son of God.

It is indeed the devil that holds us in hell and we are condemned there forever as long as we reject the story of Christ. We will continue to make our home in the grave and it will be the Christ-like nature that hold you there and it will be the longest Saturday in the grave.

Are you going to let the story end there? Many do. They will not rise above it and let the easy road of the pursuit of comfort to medicate, alleviate and suppress the pain of this mortal life. They may even lead just fine lives, but they may never address the thing that separates them from the Divine.

Or are you going to finish the story and to embrace Jesus as the saviour and redeemer, the embodiment of Israel who broke the hold of the grave and the chains of hell. He who lives evermore at the right hand of God the Father? The death of Jesus was also the death of the old religion of the letter of the law. However, the spirit of Jesus could not be kept down. He rose again to bring the spirit of the law of love.

I really love the beauty of the act of baptism. It admits that we are dead, but that with Christ, we rise back up out of the watery grave and now we carry on the mission of Christ. We go to the ends of the earth and make disciples and healing the sick of the heart and mind, bring the dead back to life and bring the kingdom of God. Our hearts should break for those in chains of the grave or hell. Maybe they're still trapped there because Christ has not freed them yet. So what are you waiting for?

We all realize that we fall short of the perfect ideals of God, but the hope of Christ and the hope of Easter is that we are not forced to stay in exile if we are willing to follow Jesus back to where we belong.

"I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doing mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought to be a man in black."
- The title track from Johnny Cash's album "Man in Black"

Don't Judge a Movie By the Book It Was Based On

I was inspired to write this post with the release of the Hunger Games movie. I could have written this same post at the time of the release of the Lord of the Rings movies or Harry Potter movies (if I cared enough to read the books or watch the movie). I will take this opportunity now as I see many posts on Facebook asking whether the movie is as good as the book. I hope this post will be some way to answer this question going forward.

The first thing you need to recognize is there is a distinct difference between the two mediums and each come with their unique ability to communicate with both advantages and drawbacks. Books have the unique ability to delve into the minds of the characters and the author has the ability to direct your focus to elements in the story and environment. It also has a great ability to be any length and to stretch time. A moment in time can be stretched out to fill pages in a book as a character contemplates and thinks through the thoughts out on the paper or take in details.

A movie on the other hand gives the unique ability to observe the events first hand and experience the story. It's great advantage is that you get to see and hear the story without having to bog down in the details and the pacing and it is contained to a period of two and a half hours and you can get back to real life.

Many people complain that movies don't have everything from the book or are missing important elements from the book. This comes from the differences in the medium and necessarily not the director's ability to create a film or the director's distain for the story. The director and screenwriter have the unenviable task of taking a book and making it watchable.

A book can take as long as it likes to tell it's story, a movie does not. Even if you could make a movie recount all the events in the book in the full detail you wish it would have, it would be unwise to create it so. It would be the most long-winded, unwatchable film possible. For example, could you imagine if they included the forty page "Council of Elrond" to discuss whether or not they should destroy the ring? It would make that 3 hour movie into something worse than going to a real town council meeting. Jackson was wise to boil that scene down and not introduce every single character that Tolkien had the leisure of describing.

Others complained about how the entire chapter of Tom Bombadil was excluded from the movie and no reference even made to the character. People will claim that Tom's scene was a vital look into the philosophy that undergirds the idea of the books. They are right, but that runs against efficiency of storytelling that film requires. I don't know if some Lord of the Rings fans realize the great lengths that Peter Jackson went to be as faithful to the essence of the story that is possible without creating a monstrosity of a movie. In fact, I would say that he borders on going overboard. If the extended editions were released as the movies, there was no way that the people who never knew the beauty of that story would ever want to experience it.

Do I think Tolkien was foolish for including Tom Bombadil? Of course not. It was good to have that because it explored further the ideas of the world and story that helps you as the reader engage with the author's message.

Would have I liked to see Jackson put in that scene? Yes, but I understand why he couldn't.

That's an important thing to remember watching a film adaptation of a book. Are those things that are missing from the film that important? I mean vital to the plot. If it vital to the core plot of the story, then it should be in. If the director changes the core idea of the story, then I would say you would have grounds to complain, but try and understand what the story really about.

Another common complaint is the way things look in the movie compared to what they imagined. It is impossible for us to take a description and arrive at the same image. We are all going to arrive at different pictures and that is not something that you can fault the movie's design team. The key is the essence.

Books and films have to approach stories different because of their nature. Some books should not be films, that is true. And you can have poor film adaptations that are still fantastic movies, which we know. However, we also have to admit that a perfectly pure film adaptation of a book would be a horrible movie. A movie has to fill in blanks that are not present in the story. It has to be efficient. It has to put visuals on passing descriptions. It has to convey the story from the outside not the inside.

Perhaps a better way to look at a film adaptation would be to not expect everything from the book and instead be happy to see things from the book as they come in and appreciate those elements.

If someone were to take my story of the buses crashing into my house that I've told around the campfire many times and were to see actual footage of the event itself as it watched me run around in the chaos of the house shaking and me running around, some would say it was a bad adaptation of my story. That it didn't deal enough time with this moment or that this detail was underplayed and even that the fun essence of the story is not there. And they'd be right in many regards. The story would also be done in 30 seconds instead of the 5 minutes that I take to go into my mind space and my descriptions. Verbal storytelling (whether out loud or on the page) is a much different experience than the visual. And that is okay.

To summarize thus far is that two mediums will have to produce two interpretations and bring two different, yet valid experiences with the story. As individuals, we all have different preferences with experiencing stories and that's why people who love books will never love the movie rendition in the same way.

How should we then look at film adaptations? We need to be able to judge them separately from the books. Aside from the fact that they are two different mediums, you also have two different groups of artists approaching the same idea. The author is never the same person as the screen writer and some times the producers are taking the same core idea and want to communicate something different with it. This is a great and important aspect of remaking a story. By allowing wiggle room in the recreation of a story, it allows new ideas to come through.

An example from music would be Trent Reznor's song, "Hurt" which came from his time dealing with drugs and how it was destroying his relationships and how he disappointed people. When Johnny Cash came along to cover the song, some complained that Cash was ruining the song by putting his interpretation on it and they could not see that Cash vitally understood the song. Cash felt the despair of the song reflected in his reflections of growing older and disappointing people and fading away in a similar manner. Cash brought not necessarily a better version of the song, but rather a new one that helped show how close we all are.

In the same way, when the Watchmen ended, the ending was different and interpreted differently by Zack Snyder and they had to cut out wide swaths of the story in order to keep the movie manageable. Many felt that it was an impossible story to make into a movie and many fans (and the original author himself) thought the movie ruined the original story, but there was indeed the core idea of the story in it that Snyder drew out and knew how to communicate to the audience and also take the truth of the story made for the world of the 1980's and made true again for the 2000's. It was unfaithful to the graphic novels, but true to the heart of the story.

Hunger Games has already been told. Some would point to a retelling of the Lord of the Flies. I point to an American interpretation of Koushun Takami's Battle Royale. Susan Collins has said that she was unaware of Battle Royale and I believe her, but it tells the same story but through the lens of two different cultures that also vitally the same. Takami's story tells the story of a government mandated fight to the death that is randomly enforced once a year on an unsuspecting junior high class somewhere in Japan. They are pitted against each other on a small island and given randomly assigned instruments to kill each with.

As you read Battle, you see this destructive way of life enforced on youth to fight ruthlessly to get to the top and how those unwilling to be brutal are wiped out and the sociopaths and those with no regard for others are rewarded.

Contrasted with Hunger Games where disparity between districts is felt and an unfair distribution of training and wealth is felt in the games themselves and yet the hope of the American Dream that you may rise above your circumstance is touted throughout the land, when the reality is, the privileged will always have an unfair advantage and will continue to declare the system in place to be fair if you just try hard enough.

It's the same story told to different people and that story needs to have the flexibility to be told different. Some people believe in the sanctity of the original and I believe in the sanctity of the story. The truth is that the sanctity of the original may kill creativity. At some point, the artist has to let go of his idea and let the community of people play with it in order to allow the truth of the story to sink in.

We have this misguided philosophy that all ideas should be original and kept perfectly intact. This comes from our views of copyright and intellectual property. My ideas are fully mine and I should reap the full benefits of it and if you dare expand or play with my ideas, you are corrupting them and making them worse. This is isolationist, rigid and ultimately destructive.

Here is the heart of the matter. Ideas and stories do not belong to one person or one corporation. We take the ideas and stories of old and remake them to continue to rediscover the deep truths of humanity. If we do not allow people to interpret stories anew, then we will lose the essence of story. It also means that we shouldn't have made stories for the last thousand years. If people were not allowed to reinterpret stories and reintroduce them to the world, then Lord of the Rings could not be told. Hunger Games could not be told. The Matrix could not be made. Star Wars could not be made. Shakespeare's plays could not be made. Disney's renditions of many fairy tales would be much more horrifying than what we have grown to love.

So can a film adaptation be a terrible movie? Absolutely, but the way to judge a film adaptation cannot be how faithful it is to the book. It has to be judged separately as a film first and foremost.

Watchmen: Fantastic graphic novel, fantastic movie, inaccurate adaptation.
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: great comic book, lacklustre movie, inaccurate adaptation.
Forrest Gump: Ridiculous book, fantastic movie, inaccurate adaptation.
Twilight: burn it in a fire, burn it in a fire, I don't care adaptation.

The thing linking all of those and all book to film adaptations (except for that last one which is still not in a fire for some reason) is that they do not perfectly mimic the original because it is impossible. Two different mediums. Two different artist's interpretations. Two different outcomes.

I will say this for the sake of the other side of the argument, that one of the important things for any artist to do is to realize what medium would be best for their idea. On Pete Holmes' "You Made It Weird" podcast talks about knowing the best way to present a joke. Would it better that a joke be a stand-up bit or as a New Yorker cartoon or as a movie or as a comedy skit? Perhaps some ideas should find their right home and be okay there, but just because we like a certain medium doesn't mean an adaptation to a new medium means that we should judge it based on the original medium.

In the end, expect the movie to be different. Perhaps even vastly different. It has to be. Don't judge the movie by the book it was based on.

(An example of an idea that was reinterpreted to fit new contexts and bring out new thoughts in the idea)
"'There must be some way out of here,' said the joker to the thief
'There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth (come and take my herb)
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.
'No reason to get excited,' the thief he kindly spoke.
'There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now the hour is getting late.'"
- "All Along the Watchtower" from the Bob Dylan album "John Wesley Harding"
- "All Along the Watchtower" from the Jimi Hendrix album "Electric Ladyland"
- "All Along the Watchtower" by Bear McCreary from the Battlestar Galactica episode "Crossroads Part 2"