You've most likely caught wind of this KONY2012 craze. Since this 30-minute video from the non-profit group Invisible Children was posted on YouTube two weeks ago, it has been viewed over 80 million times. In modern vernacular, this thing's gone viral.
The buzz about this video has been unbelievable, and truly unprecedented. The internet age has ushered in the most significant changes in all of human history. Never has so much been shared by so many, so quickly. Sites like YouTube have democratized the process of information sharing in the most glorious, and terrifying, of ways. But the site is primarily an arena for cheap thrills and wasting time, for videos of singing animals and dancing babies and intoxicated teenagers and dangerous stunts and music videos. And the modern human race, ever insatiable for distraction, eats this stuff up.
Enter Invisible Children. The company was founded a decade ago by Jason Russell, a young filmmaker who met some child soldiers in Uganda and decided to devote his life to setting them and their friends free. If you want to know more about them, look them up. But it's important to know that IC is primarily an awareness project, centered around Jason's vision. Make people aware of Joseph Kony (the rebel leader kidnapping the children) and Kony will be arrested. They've been traveling, lobbying, and posting videos for years to try and get the word out, and have drawn in millions of young people for the cause.
This year, IC went all out for a KONY2012 awareness campaign, centered around the video of the same name. Their goal was for 500,000 teenagers and young adults to see it. But, as I said, they got nearly a hundred million instead.
But this is the tragic part. The video is intensely personal. It tells Jason's story, shows him at home with his family, traveling Uganda, sharing his vision, his life passion, his dream for a better world. And the response to KONY2012, to Jason's dream, has been overwhelmingly critical. Every major news outlet, from the Guardian to the New York Times to CNN, has weighed in with their scrutiny. Activists from around the world have jumped on board too, offering some support, but mostly criticism. You see, the video paints a very simple picture of a very complex problem, and offers a very simple solution. It, in effect, tells young people that if they are sad about kids being soldiers, they can put up KONY2012 posters and tell their friends. Then, the U.S. army will sweep in and pummel Kony and his rebel friends. Justice will be served and Central Africa will be saved. Many argue that the campaign reeks of neocolonialism, a serving of Humanitarianism Light for entitled young people who want to change the world but don't care much for their lonely next door neighbor. And I don't totally disagree with that. There are major flaws.
But I do disagree, with my whole heart and soul, with the vitriol. Remember my comment of the glorious democratization of the internet age? Well along with it we have seen the ugliest aspects of humanity, the most unbelievable cruelty and utterly shameful conduct. It's awful. People have tweeted, blogged, facebooked, emailed, commented, and video replied the most hateful things. For every measured criticism from a respectable source, there are a thousand anonymous internet users bashing Jason and his video.
And now news has been released that Jason Russell, 32, was arrested two days ago for running naked through the streets of San Diego, pounding the walls and sidewalk, screaming incoherently in all directions, engaging in some horrifying lewd behavior. Celebrity gossip sites have jumped on board, posting videos of his antics, and a new round of horrible mockery has begun.
I feel terrible for him. Officials say that he was suffering from extreme exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. IC released a statement saying he had taken all of the criticism very personally and had not slept in days. One day he was launching the most exciting movement of his life, the one that would finally set child soldiers free, the next day, he was the object of intense scorn, from the full power of the global media and anyone with an internet connection.
How could this happen? Jon Stewart has suggested that the criticism has come from the jealous media, who watched as Jason did in a week what they had been trying to do for a decade. True or not, there are some real ill-feelings involved.
Jason has created one of the most successful non-profit awareness machines in the world. He is a visionary, a strong leader, an inspiring speaker, a devoted husband and father. His episode was not the act of a deluded criminal. It was the act of a man utterly broken, utterly betrayed, utterly devastated, driven to his absolute wit's end by the harshness of unfiltered, instantaneous, global criticism.
Generally, I am an optimistic guy. But in moments like this, I start to feel kind of hopeless for humanity. Though I don't fully support IC's work, I truly cannot understand how people can be so cruel. Before we jump on board lambasting and ridiculing the poor guy any further, let's consider a few things.
First of all, the KONY2012 video is not a United Nations peacekeeping proposal. It was intended to excite high schoolers, not be scrutinized by The Guardian. It was supposed to be simple. It did not purport to be a comprehensive analysis of Central Africa conflict. So don't treat it like it did. IC openly acknowledges the video is supposed to be a simple introduction. If you're interested, by all means, look further and learn more.
Second, the video offers a simple solution, because the emphasis of Jason's company is immediacy. Awareness now. And if you don't like Jason's mission, then don't join it. If it is as ill-conceived as people say, then it will never get off the ground. The movement did not invite your opinion, unless you have something constructive to offer. Join if you like it, don't join if you don't. Simple.
Third, Jason Russell is not a self-absorbed celebrity, so the way he's been treated is appalling. I am horrified that this video of him running naked is attracting such attention. I will never watch it, and I hope you don't either. How dare we gloat in another person's pain? He is mentally and spiritually broken, and we caused it. How dare we delight in the misery of a good man and his family? For that matter, how can we delight in anyone's misery, be they a hero, a villain, or a Kardashian? But I digress...
Fourth, can't we respect his life, even if we don't respect the mission? Even if you hate his vision and think his video is stupid, he has done what most of us never will. He encountered real pain and real evil, and he poured his heart, soul, and mind into bringing hope and restoration. He is driven by a dream of seeing a better world, and he works towards it every day. So how dare we sit behind our computers, spewing spite through our anonymous fingertips at a man who is driven by the noblest of dreams?
Fifth, and last, let's just offer the guy and his family some respect. You don't have to give a penny to his organization, you can silently mock the video all you want, you can propose other ways to solve the problem, but let's just remember that we all deserve to be treated with basic dignity. If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say it, and definitely don't say it in a public forum where millions of people can see it too.
The art of silence is a practice quickly fading, or so it seems. Just because we can, doesn't always mean we should. Let's not let world-changing innovation bring more pain than healing.
- jmb
A mental health perspective on Jason's breakdown from The Atlantic
Monday, March 19, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Me ... and Jesus
There's a song that plays quite often on Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) stations. I've heard it multiple times in recent weeks through the tinny ceiling speakers of Messiah's Student Union. And I think I've heard enough.
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Boggling Blogging Blogger
The ironic thing about time is the harder you look for it, the harder it is to find.
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Whirlywind
Dear world,
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Friday, April 29, 2011
Viskas.
Viskas. This word means, "That's it" in Lithuanian. As I sit here studying for my final final tomorrow morning, I really feel like I am approaching Viskas. And it's kind of sad.
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Adventures of Joshelberry Funn
Dear internet (and people who use it),
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Russia-Returned
Dear World of the Blog,
Today is a Thursday. Perhaps one of the most eventful Thursdays of my time in Lithuania, which makes this 60 minute lull in activity seem remarkably empty. Which qualifies as the perfect time for a brief post on this good old thought repository.
On Sunday we all returned safely from a crazy 8-day blitz through Russia's two biggest cities. It was, as I expected, a wild ride of a trip, full of beauty and thrills and items of staggering historical significance. My admittedly narrow perception of Russia as the cold, ugly, and rather chauvinistic bully of the northern European neighborhood was challenged and changed on every level. What I witnessed is certainly a proud and patriotic nation, but the culture, history, and legacy of the land is so deserving of that pride. Our Kremlin tour guide asserted (however provocatively) that in her experience, Russians and Americans are one and the same. Beneath all the politics and tensions and ideological disputes, the Russian spirit and the American spirit are fundamentally the same. And, as a fortunate third-party observer, I see what she means. Russians have a remarkably rich history, full of great names and heroes and victories and tragedies, of revolutionaries that liberated them and of regimes that have crumbled, of leaders that oppressed them and ideas that divided them. And through it all they've emerged with a vindictive sense of national pride. A manifest destiny of sorts, not so different from America's, as it turns out.
For those of you curious about the intricacies of daily life here, allow me to walk you through my exceptionally eventful day today, so you can get an idea of the kind of things that go on around here. This morning I joined a group of 10 other Study Abroad students for a brainstorming session with LCC International University's Study Abroad office. We were trying to come up with fresh ideas for LCC's promotional campaign for next year. For new merchandise, we came up with some great ideas, if I do say so myself -- who wouldn't want an LCC pet rock, or an LCC removable tattoo, or an LCC toothbrush?
Then it was off to practicum at the local Specialioji Mokykla (Special School). Everyday is something a little different, but today I spent a good hour playing Snakes and Ladders with my 14-year old pal Augustas. Back to school, where I made some gourmet grilled cheese and then headed to Theories of Personality class. We discussed more humanistic theology, a la Carl Rogers. [This marks the third time this academic year I've studied a unit on Carl Rogers. (I'm generally quite fond of the man, thankfully.)]
Then I had a meeting with my practicum advisor, where we went over logistics and all that. Once that was done, I headed back to an invitation-only reception in the first-floor lobby for a foreign dignitary who was visiting LCC. No big deal. Well, actually it wasn't really a big deal. There is a new Canadian Ambassador in Lithuania, you see, and since LCC is the only international university in the area, he decided to visit. An email was sent out to the community Canucks, and we all convened (8 of us) for coffee and pastries. I was the only one under 30, but it turns out I can schmooze with the dignitaries and small talk politics like the best of them. Naturally, the Canadian Ambassador was a real nice guy, and this brief meeting was equally pleasant.
At this meeting, I also received some unexpected life affirmation from LCC's interim president (who also happens to be Canadian). To put it simply, she declared that based on her perception of my character I would be a perfect candidate to someday travel Eastern Europe recruiting for LCC. So now we'll see about that, I suppose.
I conclude this post now, so I can run off to a game-show-trivia-night-kind-of-thing. It's a formal team event, so I'm off to a battle of the brains. A pizza dinner is on the line, so this is no joke.
Gotta jet. Love and peace.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
jmb
Today is a Thursday. Perhaps one of the most eventful Thursdays of my time in Lithuania, which makes this 60 minute lull in activity seem remarkably empty. Which qualifies as the perfect time for a brief post on this good old thought repository.
On Sunday we all returned safely from a crazy 8-day blitz through Russia's two biggest cities. It was, as I expected, a wild ride of a trip, full of beauty and thrills and items of staggering historical significance. My admittedly narrow perception of Russia as the cold, ugly, and rather chauvinistic bully of the northern European neighborhood was challenged and changed on every level. What I witnessed is certainly a proud and patriotic nation, but the culture, history, and legacy of the land is so deserving of that pride. Our Kremlin tour guide asserted (however provocatively) that in her experience, Russians and Americans are one and the same. Beneath all the politics and tensions and ideological disputes, the Russian spirit and the American spirit are fundamentally the same. And, as a fortunate third-party observer, I see what she means. Russians have a remarkably rich history, full of great names and heroes and victories and tragedies, of revolutionaries that liberated them and of regimes that have crumbled, of leaders that oppressed them and ideas that divided them. And through it all they've emerged with a vindictive sense of national pride. A manifest destiny of sorts, not so different from America's, as it turns out.
For those of you curious about the intricacies of daily life here, allow me to walk you through my exceptionally eventful day today, so you can get an idea of the kind of things that go on around here. This morning I joined a group of 10 other Study Abroad students for a brainstorming session with LCC International University's Study Abroad office. We were trying to come up with fresh ideas for LCC's promotional campaign for next year. For new merchandise, we came up with some great ideas, if I do say so myself -- who wouldn't want an LCC pet rock, or an LCC removable tattoo, or an LCC toothbrush?
Then it was off to practicum at the local Specialioji Mokykla (Special School). Everyday is something a little different, but today I spent a good hour playing Snakes and Ladders with my 14-year old pal Augustas. Back to school, where I made some gourmet grilled cheese and then headed to Theories of Personality class. We discussed more humanistic theology, a la Carl Rogers. [This marks the third time this academic year I've studied a unit on Carl Rogers. (I'm generally quite fond of the man, thankfully.)]
Then I had a meeting with my practicum advisor, where we went over logistics and all that. Once that was done, I headed back to an invitation-only reception in the first-floor lobby for a foreign dignitary who was visiting LCC. No big deal. Well, actually it wasn't really a big deal. There is a new Canadian Ambassador in Lithuania, you see, and since LCC is the only international university in the area, he decided to visit. An email was sent out to the community Canucks, and we all convened (8 of us) for coffee and pastries. I was the only one under 30, but it turns out I can schmooze with the dignitaries and small talk politics like the best of them. Naturally, the Canadian Ambassador was a real nice guy, and this brief meeting was equally pleasant.
At this meeting, I also received some unexpected life affirmation from LCC's interim president (who also happens to be Canadian). To put it simply, she declared that based on her perception of my character I would be a perfect candidate to someday travel Eastern Europe recruiting for LCC. So now we'll see about that, I suppose.
I conclude this post now, so I can run off to a game-show-trivia-night-kind-of-thing. It's a formal team event, so I'm off to a battle of the brains. A pizza dinner is on the line, so this is no joke.
Gotta jet. Love and peace.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
jmb
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