And The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth… But It’s Kind of a Fixer-Upper

This entry began as a review for my blog dedicated to movie reviews but I quickly surmised that it was more fitting to put these thoughts within my own more introspective blog. I just watched Capitalism: A Love Story and it got me thinking. If you watch a movie and rush out and want to talk to people about it, then that is the sign of a good film. If it can stir up emotions in you, it is a freaking awesome movie. Now, I do not agree with everything that the director put out there but there are several instances where you do just want to stand up and scream, “WTF?!”
If I had to pigeon hole me into a specific category, I would have to say that my religion is Christian but have yet to find a denomination that fits my personal POV. I feel like everyone is entitled to his or her own faith. Who am I to say that Muslim, Buddhists, or Shinto are wrong and I am right? I feel like there are many different highways to get to Disneyland. The destination is the same and we all get to the same place. We just take different routes to get there. Some may take the main highways while other take boulevards, and other sneak over the fence while the security guards aren’t looking.
So, without getting lost in ecumenical politics or offending the majority of my audience, I find that I am liberal about some things and conservative about others. I want a strong military. I want criminals brutalized. I want small government and I want Uncle Sam to keep his nose out of my business.
But at the same time, I want drugs legalized so we can tax the revenue and make it less dangerous for those that chose to partake. I want prostitution legalized. I want gambling legalized. I think food stamps and welfare are great to use as a crutch – as long as you don’t make it your lifestyle.
I do not hate capitalism. I would fully embrace it in its most pure and uncorrupted form. But what Michael Moore brings to light in his movie is just infuriating. If his facts are accurate, the top 1% of this country possesses more wealth than the bottom 95% combined. Think about that.
It is clear through his interpretation that Moore is not a fan of Bush, Cheney, and the Republican Party. But in his movie, he equally takes the Democrats to task. The TRUE villain of the film is the banking industry. I am not talking about your local branches and the small town banks but corporations like AIG, Goldman Sachs, and Merrill Lynch. The underhanded things that these corporations were doing are just disgusting.
Like many underprivileged Americans, my retirement and 401k plan consists of the lottery tickets that I purchase. I know I am never going to win but I find it interesting to imagine scenarios and what I would do with the money. Aside from my fully functioning replica of the Tumbler from Batman Begins and my castle room to play World of Warcraft in, I would start several businesses – including my gentlemen’s club Fairy Tails. But with me well off financially, I would ensure that the lion’s share of the profits went back to the employees – since they are the true backbone of a company. It is not its CEO or executives that make a company work. It is the grunts working in the mud and the blood everyday. They are the ones that make it work.
One of the more poignant segments of the movie is how people believe that God has blessed America and it is his favorite nation in the history of the world. Yet, I feel that Jesus might be a tad irked about our capitalistic system. If the system was pure and uncorrupted and worked the way it is supposed to, I don’t think he would have that much of a problem with it. But have you seen mankind lately? We screw up everything we touch!
Did Jesus not talk about being kind to the poor? Did He not say how you treat the least of my brethren you treat me? And yet, the wealthy CEOs at all of these massive companies are making ridiculous salaries while grunt workers unable to make their mortgage payments are being shown the door.
This is why I wish the poor and the day-to-day workers could be granted their own businesses because they would know how to treat the people who work under them with respect. But sometimes, the world just doesn’t work that way… and it is a damn shame. C’mon lottery. [And I am fully aware of the irony of talking about starting a gentlemen’s club and citing Jesus in the same article.]
So while I am not one for massive citing of religious text within this blog, I found this article on the Internet and it seemed to speak volumes. Enjoy this food for thought:

To the rich, God has given wealth that they may relieve and comfort His suffering children; but too often they are indifferent to the wants of others. They feel themselves superior to their poor brethren. They do not put themselves in the poor man's place. They do not understand the temptations and struggles of the poor, and mercy dies out of their hearts. In costly dwellings and splendid churches, the rich shut themselves away from the poor; the means that God has given to bless the needy is spent in pampering pride and selfishness. The poor are robbed daily of the education they should have concerning the tender mercies of God; for He has made ample provision that they should be comforted with the necessities of life. They are compelled to feel the poverty that narrows life, and are often tempted to become envious, jealous, and full of evil surmisings. Those who themselves have not endured the pressure of want too often treat the poor in a contemptuous way, and make them feel that they are looked upon as paupers.

Oklahoma Weather & Childhood Memories

I don’t want to be one of those slack-jawed yokels that say, “Gawl dang, lookie at all this snow!” However, Friday was the last day of winter here in Oklahoma. It was 72 degrees, warm, and sunny with a nice breeze. Yesterday was the first day of spring and there is a foot of snow on the ground. The wind is howling and snowdrifts were piled so high we got stuck in the middle of the road. So I called in as “unavailable” to work today.
Yesterday, I managed to make it home from work fine as the temperature was not bitterly cold and the massive wind had not kicked up yet. On Friday, I was home from work and the kids were on Spring Break. I warned them to go outside on Friday because on Saturday, they would not be able to.
Sure enough, the snow came. Normally I have to chase Jason out of the house and away from the video games with a broom. But yesterday, while I was at work, Amy told me that she could not keep Jason inside. Decked out in his black Under Armor and dressed in his Clone Trooper helmet, Jason reenacted the Imperial assault on the Rebel base on Hoth.
This got me to thinking of my own childhood and how the apple certainly doesn’t fall far from the tree. I grew up in North Carolina in the city of Charlotte. Now, for Charlotte to receive snow, it has to come up through Georgia – which doesn’t happen very often.
But I remember one winter we finally got snow… and being a young Star Wars fan, this was the moment you waited for since you saw The Empire Strikes Back. Before you were relegated to draping white sheets over the carpet and furniture in the den (until your parents discovered what you were doing). But the problem is my mother never bought just plain white sheets. So all my Hoth environments had little paisleys or designs on them.
But finally, snow. Honest to goodness, deep snow. I remember setting my Tauntaun action figures out with the cold weather Luke Skywalker riding him and then taking my snow speeder and flying circles around him (by running in the yard) to get the picture perfect camera angles for my mind’s eye.
I would flop down in the snow and play with the Tauntaun and my Wampa Ice Creature, reenacting the whole scene over and over again, despite my front getting soaked from lying in the snow… and I could have cared less. I think it is extremely cool that my sons are just as obsessed with a wonderful thing like Star Wars just as I was at that age. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree at all…

How Honest Abe & The Undead Made Me Look Like A Psycho in Wal-Mart…

Disclaimer: Everything I am about to tell you is TRUE.
Today, I went to my local Wal-Mart to pick up some pizza for the kids’ lunch, dinner for tonight, and a Monster for me. (It is my last guilty pleasure with my diet.) I am not a compulsive person by any means. I was there with a mission: food, pricing a new set of headphones & mic for my computer, and to price a new TV to replace the boys’ that went nuclear last night.
I was done shopping but for reasons that cannot be explained, I went down the aisle with the books and magazines “just to see.” Then, it caught my eye – this wonderfully, ridiculous template of utter insanity. When I first saw it, I said out loud, “What?” The title was four words that should never have justifiably been used together in… well, in all of modern history. I snatched it off the rack began devouring the dust jacket blurbs – scarcely able to contain my excitement of this incredibly off-the-wall concept.
And I immediately started laughing. I had to have this book. No matter what it took. So I called the Comptroller and got the disbursement of funds approved.
Book in hand, I laughed all the way to the check out stand. I talked up my purchase with the cashier – who did not seem to openly share my mirth in the book title. I laughed in the parking lot. I laughed all the way through Pryor. As I was driving, I was thinking to myself, “To whom can I call to tell this story of abject insanity? Who can I call that would appreciate this tale as much as me?”
Out of all my friends, I knew there was only one. There was only one perfect choice. He was the first on the list… So I scrolled to the end of my address book and pulled up “X-Ray Man Aaron.” This man is a black hole for books. I proceeded to tell him the story almost exactly the same as I have told it to you now. As I reached the conclusion of my tale and I prepared to unleash the title of this masterpiece, Aaron simply said, “Let me guess…”
I could not have anticipated this would be his response but, really, there could be no other conclusion to this tale. And then he said those four precious words:
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.
I gave a huzzah that rattled the windows in my car and we continued with the discussion. As it turns out, he is reading the exact same book right now. Now, just let that title sink in for a minute. Yep, the author has taken real moments from Lincoln’s history and has blended in elements of vampirism. This is his follow-up to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

I would type more but I have to start reading right now. Good bye, free time. Let’s start the insanity.

Building Great Foundations For People Can Start With You

I am extremely lucky in that I knew from a very early age the industry I wanted to be in. Comic books (or Graphic Novels for all you snooty peoples out there) quickly became my passion. Originally intending to break into the industry as an artist, I quickly realized my art talents were not up to snuff and I began to switch over to more of the writing aspect. Obviously, this has paid off in dividends. I still consider myself an artist but I paint my pictures with words now instead of my pencils.
Still, in high school, any teacher that paid attention knew about my artistic side. Nurturing artistic sides can be a difficult thing. I love Michael Bublé and I totally wish I could sing like him. He does a rendition of I’ve Got You Under My Skin that just blows the roof off the dump. But I don’t have the chops. I just don’t. And you have to be careful not to nurture people when the talent isn’t there. Want proof that this happens? Watch any start to the American Idol season. So you have to have passion but you also have to have a certain amount of natural ability. The embers have to be in there to start the fire.
Now, my dad is an All-American Water Polo player. He is in the Swimming Hall of Fame. To this day, he still has that “swimmer’s body.” Clearly the athletic gene in the Foley DNA strain skips a generation. I played High School football for two years. Don’t worry. This isn’t some Al Bundy tirade that ends with me saying, “I played High School football! All City back in ’66. Scored four touchdowns in a single game.”
Fact of the matter is I stunk at football. Well, let me take that back. I was the best Scum-O running back Adair football had ever seen. (If you don’t know what Scum-O is, ask your brother.) I was smart enough to know how to run multiple opposing team’s offenses from every position so that our First Team Defense could practice against it. Unfortunately, I had no athletic ability. I had heart for miles and wanted to perform desperately… but I just didn’t have the chops.
Between my Sophomore and Junior year of high school, things went south at my house. My mom & dad both lost their jobs in the same month. The SAME MONTH. And a decision was made. If I wanted the high dollar sneakers and the fancy jeans and my comic books, I had to get a job.
Now, when you go from playing high school football in a small town to NOT playing high school football, your stock has a tendency to dip. I think it was a year or maybe two after I graduated from high school that I ran into my football coach at a basketball game. The first thing he asked me was if I was still drawing.
Man, are you kidding me? Do you know how special that is for an athletic coach to recognize the true gifts of a person and acknowledge the importance of cultivating that gift – especially when said gifts are not athletically related?
So, needless to say, I was not surprised at all when I just heard that Coach Russell Kruse was part of the 2010 class of inductees for the Oklahoma Coaches Hall of Fame.
Teachers, mentors, parents, Big Brothers & Sisters, all of you have the potential to play an extremely important role in a person’s life. You can be a rock of encouragement. You can be a source of inspiration. You can be a booster.

Ask yourself sometime, “What role am I playing?” After all, you never know whom you might inspire…

Finding Him and Yourself in the Details

I have professed my love of the films of Kevin Smith for years. And while I am not skilled enough to critique his skills as a director, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is a fantastic writer. In one of his more controversial films (for really no reason whatsoever), Smith wrote the following dialogue for Rufus the 13th Apostle who was purposefully left out of the Bible because he was black. Speaking of Jesus, Rufus said:

“He likes to listen to people talk. Christ loved to sit around the fire and listen to me and the other guys. You know whenever we were going on about unimportant shit he always had a smile on his face.”

There is an expression that God is in the details. The true definition of person does not come in the big, sweeping questions. Christian? Jew? Muslim? Republican? Democrat? Pro-gun? Anti-Abortion? Giants fan? Cowboys fan? (Although for the record, that last one… yeah, just stone those people in the streets.) People are never impressed with the broad strokes of an artist. Broad strokes do not a painting make. It is the small strokes, the subtle blends, and the minutiae of the details that make a piece of art or music truly inspiring.
Now, stick with me. It seems like over the last several months, a few people have been removed from my life because of job changes. And it is strange. My former boss and I at our 9-to-5 used to share stories as we were setting up the department of the day. These conversations could be about World of Warcraft, fantasy football, movies, cool facts discovered on TV shows (we both dig the History Channel and Discovery)… All of the conversations were of things that, in the grand scheme of things, had no relevant bearing in my life. I don’t want to call the topics “stupid” but more “inane” than anything else.
I have friends from high school – good friends – friends that I would be happy to call brother. Some of these guys I have not seen in years. We maintain contact via email and Facebook but it does not have the same level of closeness. So you would think that if we got back together, we would have just loads of stuff to talk about. And yet… have you ever experienced that? You should just be spouting Wikipedia levels of information at this person. It has been three years! But you find yourself with nothing to talk about.
Then I have my friend Luke who I see all the time at work. To this day, we have NEVER run out of things to talk about. Granted most of those conversations revolve around boobs, video games, intercourse of various fashions (filmed and live), work related BS, movies, and such. By all accounts, it is all inconsequential… Yet I crave those conversations.
So if we are made in His image, and if God is in the details, then one could surmise that these inconsequential details – this unimportant stuff – are who we truly are. It is these little exchanges, this small, meaningless crap that actually makes your life worth living. So to this argument, I would add a quote from one of history’s greatest minds.

Everything that can be counted does not necessarily count; everything that counts cannot necessarily be counted. --Albert Einstein