if i were discussing this book: "god is dead" and i don't feel so good myself

in my transition from the college to post-college life, i responded to the decreasing frequency of late night musings and existential inquiry by instead spilling my thoughts online. strangely enough, the e-place that i most frequently turned to for ravenous debate was englishforums.com, a website where moderators and well-meaning amateurs helped ESL speakers tackle this great monster we call english. and so when i got bored answering grammar riddles, i wandered into the controversial subjects forum.

yet rather than argue for my own causes, i ran to the side of perspectives that seemed, to me, falsely maligned. perhaps because of the vitriolic, one-sided tenor of argument that is a universal fact of the internet, or perhaps because of some innate character flaw, or perhaps because of the empathy-inducing influence of fiction and the gospel, whatever the cause, in between offering advice on commas and prepositions, i ignored my own quest to prove that mormonism wasn't a subset of christianity, for example, to prove that catholicism was (clarification: i'm not catholic).

this tendency for counterintuitive apologetics has, i think, found its way into my real-life character as well. at many a cousin-camping trip, i've stood at the fire, defending catholic theology to my fellow protestants. i campaign for liberal causes among my conservative friends, and conservative causes among my liberal friends.

and now, with the help of my fellow editors, chris keller and jon stanley, i've taken the ultimate crazy step: i've published a book that uses analytic essays, social commentary, poetry, interviews, and art to ask what we christians can learn from atheists. that is, how can christian theology approach atheism, that very concept that seems opposite and anathematic to christianity?"

my intentions are a bit different here--i don't intend to argue that atheists have been misunderstood--but they are related. as we suggest in our introduction, the cultural conversation surrounding new atheism and christianity has become a great swelling of voices, so loud and so self-righteous, that there's no space for quiet, compassionate consideration.

in any case, i encourage you to check out our book, "god is dead" and i don't feel so good myself: theological engagements with the new atheism, and see what you think.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

this is clearly a 17/17 read! OK, OK, you probably shouldn't trust me. i'm a bit biased by the fifty cent royalty for every thousand or so copies sold. look at the website below to see what brian mclaren says about this "brilliant book," or how james k. a. smith refers to it as a "stunning collection" and an "intellectual feast."

you can purchase and read about god is dead here (where it's cheaper than at amazon!).

if i were discussing this book: jesus girls

a friend recently emailed me to inquire about my personal thoughts regarding jesus girls (buy the book here!), a book that my friends at cascade books recently published and a book that i helped edit and have been actively marketing on facebook.

i had the sense that she wanted something more than the back-of-the-book blurb (which is actually quite good and rather apropos to the book) or the glowing publisher's weekly review, and so i attempted to avoid pure promotional speak. i don't know that i succeeded, but here's what i said:

Personally, this is the coolest project I've ever worked on. To some extent, editing psychiatric genetic research is rewarding, because some of the things I work on may help lead to a cure or otherwise improve people's lives. That's pretty cool, but the writing itself is dry and makes no attempt to create meaning for readers. My work at THE OTHER JOURNAL is much more interesting--I get to edit theology essays, social justice articles, and poems; I get to work on writing that speaks truth to people's lives.

But JESUS GIRLS moves beyond those mediums (well, perhaps not poetry, but that's another story). JG is a collection of what you might call creative nonfiction or personal essays. Like good fiction, these essays creatively propel readers to an unconscious empathy, to see the world from someone else's shoes, and perhaps to reconsider our own lives. I've wanted to work with creative nonfiction (and novels) for a long time, so helping Hannah (the book's primary editor) edit these essays has been a very fulfilling experience.

Now, more particularly, as its title suggests, JG is a collection of reflections about growing up evangelical. What's unique about JG--and I can imagine this turning some readers off--is that it's not your typical account of growing up evangelical. That is, if you go to a Christian bookstore, you'll probably find books that closely follow the lost-and-then-found formula of conversion; if you go to a secular bookstore, you'll probably find books that blame their evangelical childhood for all of their problems as an adult. Instead, JG gathers essays from women who are still evangelical, women who now belong to other Christian denominations, and women who no longer consider themselves Christians. And so JG aims to be authentic and honest about Christian culture, about the struggles, rewards of faith, and about real-life experiences in the church.

You asked what I think about the book, and I'm guessing that you're curious about more than my biased opinion that the essays are very powerful and well-written--as an evangelical, I think it's important that we read and write this kind of literature, that we avoid sugarcoating the truth or parading a testimony that isn't really our own, that we ask the important questions JG suggests. I think it's important that we acknowledge that our church is both broken and beautiful, and that we take the liberty to honestly consider these things. JG does these things, and this may strike some as Christianity-negative, but I definitely don't see it that way.

I'm excited that you might buy the book, and I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Andrew

to learn more about jesus girls, come to our launch party this thursday! MHGS, 2501 Elliot Ave, Seattle, WA, from 7PM to 10PM--free food, drinks, and readings (including sara zarr and hannah notess!).

an unused introduction to the other journal’s issue on race

Let us,

two shy women—one black, one white—

keep walking up University Avenue together

with our brave faces and uncertain prospects

into a future still gathering its forces.

—from Carolyne Wright, “Miss Brown to You,” The Other Journal #16

humanity perpetually stands on the edge of some revolution, collective disaster, or personal moment of intense success or failure. real or imagined, god-breathed or man-made, our hopes and fears are always right around the next corner. and it is into that murky marshalling of unknown forces and “uncertain prospects” that we daily catch our breath, look both ways, and walk once more into the busy streets.

in this issue of the other journal, we confront matters of race by studying the oncoming traffic, the pedestrians around us, and even ourselves. with brian bantum and willie jennings, we take note of those people who “exist between the cracks” and seek understanding of what they call the “mulatto existence.” and with carolyne wright and cornell west, we seek the courage “to cut against the grain,” to renounce normalized systems of injustice, and to thoughtfully consider our own place in these complex racial questions. we look outward and inward, and by examining our past and present, we hope to see christ moving us and drawing us ever nearer to a truly interracial future.

see an explanation for this unused intro here and check out our issue at theotherjournal.com!

introductions

when you manage a quarterly journal, there are certain things you must do. here’s the business of acquiring and editing pieces, the glamor of email and conference calls, and the madness of deadlines and missing persons. there’s also the matter of finding funding so you can pay your writers and staff and generally stay afloat, if you’re into that kind of thing.

and then there’s the issue introduction, the editor’s preface, or the editorial statement—call it what you will, but someone must write something that sets the tone for the issue.

it must be catchy and yet reflective. it must make readers swoon, stir their tea with intrigue and delight, keep reading. and it must be left to the very last moment.

at some publications with which i’m familiar, this means an essayist of considerable means will sequester himself in a hotel room, order room service and some smokes, and then emerge last-minute with perfect, shining prose.

i assume that, give or take the hotel food, this is pretty standard practice among literary quarterlies. but at the other journal, we strive to ever greater lengths of editorial chaos. we have no go-to-girl, no pre-appointed all-star ready to tap the keys in the last hour. in past issues, our introductions have been written by our editor-in-chief, our managing editor (me), and even a team effort crafted by our entire staff.

and as usual, in the last hours before the launch of our latest issue, a great question mark hovered over the world. would we have an introduction? who would write it? what would it say?

it turned out that, no, we would we not have an introduction—we would instead have two introductions, and they would say very different things.

you can find the one introduction to save all introductions here. It was selected because it better addresses our vision of what we hope to say in this issue, because it clearly frames a touchy topic, race, in the context of theology and life in america.

in contrast, the unused version, my version, is patched together from some flailing metaphors that hope to disguise my cluelessness concerning race and how it pertains to these questions of life and theology.

still, there must be a place for andrew's racey rubble. oh, right, this blog—

photo: andrew david. "the fog and introduction." logan pass, glacier national park.

dishes!

several facts about the history and present life of dishes in greenwood, washington:

1. there is one dish on my roommate's side of the sink; the dish is dirty. it may also be lonely--until a few days ago, there were dozens of dirty dishes to keep it company there.

2. fourish dishes are scattered on my side of the sink; they've been rinsed but probably do not fit your definition of clean. unlike the dirty dish on the eastern bank of the sink, these westerners generally prefer smaller groups of, say, zero to eleven.

3. a dozen or so dirty glasses are hanging out on the counter. until about twenty minutes ago, they were my roommate's responsibility, but we just swapped dishes for donations, so they're my responsibility now. that's right, dishes for donations. he's giving to the other journal!

4. you can donate too, and i don't even have to do your dishes! visit http://www.theotherjournal.com/news.php?id=39, click "HERE," go through a quick registration process (sorry, that didn't use to be there--because you'll be giving so frequently, they want to provide you with silly online tools to help you manage all that well spent money), designate the donation as for the other journal, and make the donation.

in other news, i plan to eat nachos tonight.



photo: andrew david. "bradys dirty dishes." robbins apartment, seattle, wa. according to the image properties, i took this photo at 9:38 PM on january 25, 2001, in commemoration of yet another roommate.

find john wilkes booth! donate to TOJ!

one thing i hate about traveling cheap is the luggage. it seems that at some point during almost all of my trips i find myself saddled with a bulky bags, trying to maneuver my way through tight spaces, twist myself into comfortable positions, or just fit in.

this bothersome aftermath of travel penury was the chief narrative device of the travel essay i posted here a few years back, so i'll spare you another essay on the subject. however, when beth and i visited indiana university at bloomington this spring, we found ourselves in that familiar big-bag position. and so, rather than visiting the famous lilly library together, we went in shifts--i ran off in the direction of the library while beth drank her coffee and watched our bags (and almost vice versa).

unfortunately, this meant that (1) we had half as much time to view the exhibits as we would have under normal circumstances--by the time beth signed the necessary security forms, entered an air-lock or three, and gazed at a page of scribblings by thoreau (?), it was time to go--and (2) i was without my tour guide (i.e., beth), so i really didn't know what i was supposed to be looking at.

thus, like most touristy folk at indiana u who wander into the lilly, i was clueless to the wonderful treasures in the vaults below. so i ran through an exhibit on lincoln. and it may have been interesting, but i was in skim-mode--perhaps the displays were bringing back unwelcome memories of my college paper on the fellow.

still, i did like this wanted poster. it seems almost like a fiction, that there was a day and age when wanted posters were the stuff of reality, not spaghetti westerns and disney theme parks, that the government really depended upon the people to mete out justice. and look at all that small type. i daresay that if presidents were assassinated in our modern era, no one would take the time to read that print. this poster cries out for a good graphic designer.

so what meaning can a poster like this convey to us today? how might its text serve us here and now?

i believe that if you look closely, you might see a simple message embedded in that poster. you might see a message from the abolitionists, the government, and all people of justice, a message just for you.

and it is this:

until june '09, when you donate to the other journal, your donation of $25,000 plus your employer's matching contribution of $25,000 will be matched by an anonymous mars hill graduate school donor for a total donation of $100,000!* perhaps your employer isn't into philanthropy; in that case, your donation of $25,000 will be matched by an anonymous mars hill graduate school donor for a total donation of $50,000!** or perhaps you'd prefer to scrape a few zeroes off that figure--fine! the donor will match any contribution, large or small!*** it's a lot easier than catching a murderer, especially a man whose been dead for over one hundred years. so click the link! donate now!

and when you donate, be sure to select "the other journal" in the designation field: http://www.theotherjournal.com/news.php?id=39 or https://olg.campusnet.net/OnLineGiving/nr/nrDonations.aspx?id=NTHV5KEHx%20Ao6144O/PYPR3/OKfiC2l/iO0zZWxrLm7d%208CePKjz4Q==&fg=.



photo: andrew david. "catch booth! give money!" lilly library, indiana university, bloomington, indiana.

*the donor will only match $25,000 in total donations, so if you really donate 25k, the donor won't match your employer's contribution.

** the donor will only match $25,000 in total donations, so if other donors have already given to mars hill, the matching donor, will only match your donor up to the mark of $25,000.

*** the donor will only match $25,000 in total donations, so if you donate $25,001, the maximum he will match is $25,000.

beauty and aethetics

wednesday will be the debut of the other journal's issue on aesthetics. i preferred to name the issue "Beauty," but i was editorally outranked. still, in some sense i had the last word--

during the last fifty minutes of work today, i was comissioned to write the introduction for the issue. and so i escaped the cramped quarters of our subway-sandwich-smelling office (take that however you wish), squatted in a sun-soaked room overlooking elliot bay (take that squat in the pioneer sense, not the awkward physical exertion sense), and composed a few paragraphs that used Augustine (seen here blasting away at an unarmed man in yellow pants) as a lens for alluding to the various pieces we'll be publishing this issue. i don't know that the paragraphs are worthy of much attention (they are, after all, very short), but i'm happy to report that i got away with avoiding even a single mention of the word aesthetics.

as for the issue itself, we'll begin by publishing several interesting meditations on art, some nature-centric pieces, and of course, some poetry. however, i am especially excited to publish a chapter from jesus girls by jessie van eerden and interviews with greg wolfe and scott cairns.

read my introduction here: http://www.theotherjournal.com/info.php?page=intro.

stay tuned to the latest content from the aesthetics issue here: http://www.theotherjournal.com/index.php.

photo: andrew david. "isn't it beautiful how the monk is handy with a shotgun?" the art institute of chicago, chicago, il (4/09). i'm not certain of the name of the painting or painter, but it was in a series of six or so that illustrated a sequence of the yellow-pant fellow attempting rob the monastery and being outwitted/shot by this monk man. according to the placard at the museum, the paintings were based on a real historical event, but the non-nonviolent priest was not augustine.

my new book!

hey, everyone, i edited my first ever book! you can (please) buy it here or ask buy it directly from me.

and to add to the thrill of having a book published, image journal featured our book in their newsletter. whoohooo!

check it out:
Remembering the Future, edited by Chris Keller and Andrew David

Remembering the Future is a selection of works published in the last three years by The Other Journal, an online journal at the intersection of theology and culture. Included in the anthology are poems by the likes of Luci Shaw, Marjorie Maddox, and Paul Willis, interviews of contemporary thinkers such as Lauren Winner, Brian McLaren, and Charles Marsh, and essays on everything from genocide to pop music (including a piece by music writer and former Image intern Joel Hartse). The anthology charts a course across human transgression—poverty, rape, violence, genocide—into the iconography of contemporary culture—Borat, Britney Spears, reproductive technology, the ONE campaign. The book will naturally appeal to readers with a theological bent, but it does not remain in the realm of mere ideas. Rather, its contributors are interested in the ways that theology is incarnated in real life, here and now—in family and community; in politics, economics, and education; in works of social justice; and in art, literature, and music. In the preface, the editors articulate their vision that “authentic, redemptive Christian practice requires double-vision, that is, thoughtful engagement with both the biblical tradition and the cultural moment.” From a broad spectrum of creativity and theology, this anthology encourages us to rethink our comfortable paradigms in light of such thoughtful engagement. The contributors, including voices from the emergent church and the evangelical, Catholic, and mainline traditions, are not always in agreement with each other, and many of the pieces are provocative—a testimony to the diversity of perspective that The Other Journal values. The opening poem by Luci Shaw, “A Few Suggestions for an Insubordinate Idea,” sets the tone for the whole book, which seeks to goad and stir, to “fling / a glitter of ash over the ocean, pocking it like rain. / Ignite a burning bush. Transfix the universe. Then,”—and here’s the beauty of what Remembering the Future does—“having found a mind of your own, come home. / Burrow my brain. Be one of a neuron couplet / that breeds a host of your own kind.”

Click here to buy the book.

change

the next issue of the other journal will focus on the 2008 election. although i'm interested to see how theologians will address this topic, and i think it will be an interesting issue for our readers, i wonder how creative writers will take to it.

if poets and writers are our modern prophets, our contemporary truth-tellers, then it makes sense that their work might be politically noisy, that it might voice protests or hoorahs over policies and potentates. and perhaps we should listen.

but when i sit down to read a poem or a short story, i don't want to bullied into belief. i don't want a writer knocking me up side the head with the moral bush is bad. if this is their point, i'd like the message to sneak past my defenses, settle in my mind, and convince me via the rhythm, images, and story.

so, yes, i'm afraid that some writers will forget their subtlety and fly headlong into the role of teacher. therefore, when i think of our next issue, i'm most excited by the lens we're hoping to use for election '08: change.

it's a word that's on the lips of all our pundits and politicians these days, but i also think it's a potentially rich word for christian writers. when you think about it, nearly all great literature is about change. we read books that have shifting plots, characters that are melded by their stories. and at the heart of the christian faith is change.

and speaking of change, here's the point of today's entry: today i'm on the brink of change. after battling a nasty cold, i'm starting to feel much better. this seems small and shallow, of course, but to me, at this moment, it feels big and important.

and i just finished haruki murakami's the wind-up bird chronicle, which i hope to say more about later.

and after several years of off-and-on practice, i'm finally learning debussy's "claire de lune" in its entirety.

so hooray for change!

atheism, sharing, and god

ok, i live and breath editing, so you'll have to pardon another ancillary mention of my work at the other journal (TOJ).

in my editing class, we've been getting the inside scoop on the publishing biz; this means chatting with acquisition editors and writing book proposals.

now several months ago, i thought it might be interesting to approach my boss's boss, the director of mental health at the seattle VA, about a book on his amazing discovery of prazosin, the nightmare-relieving pill for posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). murray's a funny guy, a great storyteller, and an important figure in the research community, so i figured that a book that walked a tightrope between biography, history, and timely political commentary could be entertaining from his perspective.

but then the miracle of calvin college happened. at the festival of faith and writing, an editor for one of the big christian publishers approached TOJ about the prospect of transforming our atheism issue into a book. the editor encouraged us to submit a book proposal and then he bounded back to his world of signed books.

as it happened, my assignment for a book proposal was due the next week, so i jettisoned the poor iraqi PTSD veterans--in fact, were i to properly edit this post, they'd have been wiped from the annals of the 17 point scale because i have nothing more to say about the dormant book idea; i suppose that it's relevant to the chronology but not to the story--and attempted to pull together a coherent thesis for the a TOJ atheism book.

here's what i determined: recent publications that write on atheism from a christian perspective tend to lapse into polemics. they exist solely as a response to richard dawkins, christopher hitchens, and company. in contrast, the content in the current issue of TOJ uses atheism as a starting point for more important discussions about what it means to be christians. how should a life of faith differ from a life without faith? what atheistic ideas challenge christians to live life better and more like christ? i was a bit surprised to find such a foundation, but i think it might work.

still, just now as i was relaxing on my couch and listening to my highest rated playlist, i couldn't help but get a little apologetical. and when i say "a little apologetical," i'm referring to the branch of apologetics that relies chiefly on easily disproved observations.

i was listening to "a friend i had" by aaron sprinkle, and i thought, gosh, this seems like such a perfect song. it was more a gut reaction than the result of a close analysis of the melodic complexity or the lyrical juxtapositions, but i was overpowered by a strong sense that everything was just right. so right, in fact, that i needed to tell someone. i needed to get the message out to as many people as possible. i needed to share.

i think that this silent urge to share beauty is everywhere in the world. it's in the thousand blogs that celebrate a quote or lyric in every post. it's in my atheism book proposal.

and what's not in my atheism book proposal is this simple proof: perhaps that beauty is truth and perhaps that truth--perhaps all truth--somehow leads to god and perhaps our innate need to share that truth is in some way reflected in the international movement known as the church.

after exchanging book proposals with an editing partner in my class, she remarked, andrew, you need to use more confident language. enough with the "may," "could", and "perhaps"--write with some authority.

ok, then.

you can poke holes in my theory or decry organized religion or dismiss church or laugh at ritual but isn't it true that there's something distinctly human about sharing beauty, and isn't that to some degree the purpose of church?

yes, it is so.

photograph: andrew david. "the shining." central park, nyc, ny.

letter to you!

April 1, 2008

Dear Everyone I Know:

Baseball’s had its opening day (Hooray, Bedard!) and the calendar says April, but I’m not yet convinced that it’s spring. Yesterday I dashed through the VA parking lot in a big fat hail storm, and just last Friday my coworkers were leaving work at noon to avoid icy roads and the promise of snow—what’s going on? This is Seattle, the land where clouds and sun play peek-a-boo all spring long, the home of drizzle, not snow.

So since I’m in a wintry mood, I thought I’d send a Christmas letter of sorts, an annual holiday update but with a twist (WARNING: that twist means that I’m asking you for something).

I think that people usually start these letters by describing the highlights and lowlights of the year:

THINGS I DID
I founded a soccer team. During the first season we were known as The Others, but after a season of soul-searching, we changed our name to the Powerhouse Penguins. We’ve even won a game!
I performed in a Sufjan Stevens cover band and a Backstreet Boys karaoke group.
I contacted my legislature and governor about various SuperSonics related issues, got cynical about their lack of response, and haven’t yet contacted them about Darfur.
I wrote several book review blurbs that were published in ImageUpdate, dozens of blog entries, two pages of an in-progress novel, and a few articles about Alzheimer’s research.

PLACES I VISITED
New York City, NY: Beth and I attended the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference and visited with Matt and Jacinda Basinger.
Ocean Shores, WA: I celebrated my birthday in the penthouse at the Gray Gull with a dozen or so of my friends.
Belize: Beth and I joined my parents and grandparents in a Belize adventure. I have some great memories from the trip, and it was good to be able to travel with my Grandpa one last time before he passed away in October.
Portland, OR: I made several trips to visit my parents for holidays (e.g., Thanksgiving), Pietros Pizza fun, and Powell’s Books.

MY NEW FAVORITES
Book: Cormac McCarthy’s Border Trilogy
Food: Indian curry

OK, so now the twist.

As you may know, I’ve been working as an editor for the University of Washington (UW) Department of Psychiatry for a few years now. It’s interesting work—I’ve learned a ton about schizophrenia, posttraumatic stress disorder, and Alzheimer’s disease—and they even paid for me to get a certificate in editing from the UW, but I’ve been hoping for something with a little less statistical genetics, something a bit more creative.

Then, in August of 2007, I was invited to join the staff of The Other Journal, an online quarterly that explores matters of faith in the context of art, culture, social justice, and theology. The journal aspires to be a meeting place between the academic and the popular, and they publish essays; book, film, and music reviews; visual art; blog posts; and creative writing. They asked me to edit their upcoming print anthology and the Imagination section, a hub of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

Since then we’ve published an issue on psychopathology (“Virtue, Sin, and Psychosis in the New Millennium”) and an issue on atheism (which is currently ongoing), and I’ve had the opportunity to work with a great collection of amazing writers and poets. I even got to meet poet Luci Shaw, who was shocked to find that I was a twentysomething rather than a bespectacled old scholar in a tweed suit.

Now, I said that this was something of a Christmas letter. That’s because I’m kind of asking you for a Christmas gift.

The Other Journal is a non-profit organization, staffed primarily by volunteers (and people like me, working at about a buck an hour) whose work is made possible by the generous financial contributions of our readers. They hardly pay me, but I’m excited nonetheless. The experience is great and I think we’re publishing important content that needs to be seen—check us out at http://www.theotherjournal.com/. Therefore, I’m asking that you consider giving to The Other Journal.

We would use your contribution to help fund the continued work of the journal and to increase our ability to impact the world. This month, for example, we plan to attend the Faith and Writing Festival at Calvin College, an important gathering of leading voices in the exploration of faith, writing, and culture. The Faith & Writing Festival represents a unique opportunity to promote The Other Journal by hosting an exhibit and networking with publishers and writers. The conference will also allow our team of editors to meet from across the United States to refine our focus for the upcoming year.

Your contribution would also help run a series of films, lectures, and panel discussions called Film, Faith, and Justice. Last year we joined with the organization Human Rights Watch, to have the festival at the UW campus, where over four days we drew more than 1,800 participants from Seattle’s eclectic community of activists, students, academics, videophiles, and people of faith.

We need your support; all donations to The Other Journal are tax-deductible.

We are accepting online donations through the Mars Hill Graduate School donations page (https://www.mhgs.edu/af/donate.asp); in the Gift Information section, be sure to write the following:

apply my gift to OTHER
if other: The Other Journal

Donations, made out to “Mars Hill Graduate School” with TOJ/AD in the memo line, can also be sent via snail-mail to The Other Journal at:

The Other Journal at
Mars Hill Graduate School
2501 Elliott Avenue
Seattle, WA 98121

Thank you for reading my letter and considering supporting The Other Journal.

Cheers,


Andrew David
The Other Journal

PS I’m also hopeful that this working-nights-and-weekends gig might eventually turn into a more legitimate part-time job, and if we do really well at getting donations, that might be a possibility.

profanity, art, and toj

there's some great content up at the other journal. the current issue is on atheism.

also, i really like this poster.

but today i'm returning to an opus that i abandoned several months ago. the psychopathology issue of toj features the poem "hedonist's prayer,"a dark parody of the pater noster. the poem approaches the theme of moral depravity with harsh, honest language as the narrator confesses an appetite for "smut and sex" and an allegiance to "the satiation of desire." the poem even drops a participial adjective f-bomb.

so how does such a poem find its way into a christian journal that is primarily staffed by evangelicals?

there are several ways to approach the issues raised by "hedonist's prayer," but i'd like to deal with my mom first.

i expect that my mom would object most strongly to the profanity. indeed, i remember getting my mouth washed out with soap for calling someone stupid. at the time i was probably being naughty and belligerent in other ways too, but my mom used the opportunity to illustrate a biblical mandate for thoughtful, conscientious, and clean action. as the scriptures say:

do you not know that your body [e.g., mouth] is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body [i.e., with your mouth] (1 Corinthians 6:19-20).

and the lesson stuck. i don't cuss and i don't use profanity in my writing, and although i see the distinctions that separate some swear words from non-swear words as somewhat arbitrary cultural designations, i still cling to a belief that there is value to keeping my mouth clean, that this non-divisively sets me apart from a culture that could care less, that this somehow honors God.

my personal rejection of profanity is universal yet nuanced. there seem to be several uses of profanity, and although my personal usage has yet to waver, i recognize distinctions between these uses.

many people seem to use profanity as a normal character in their everyday alphabet. perhaps this pattern of usage supports the view that profanity is no longer profane because some pockets of culture have adopted it into the general lexicon.

yet here comes my mother again, thrashing her broom against those four-letter words, crowing that profanity is unnecessary, that there are better, more eloquent ways to convey one's meaning. were my mom an editor, she might say that when someone's sentences are peppered with profanity, they are falling into the trap of someone who uses like to convey every little thought or who has fallen exhaustingly in love with (nasty) adverbs.

and to this critique, the language lover in me raises his glass and cries, "cheers!" although creative writing that attempts to recreate a foul-mouthed dialect may succeed at realism, i hardly ever find it poetic. likewise, i'm not sold on literature that appears to have missed the copyediting desk--if it uses alternate spellings or attempts to excuse odd pronunciations with a boatload of apostrophes, it's probably not for me--and if the profanity is grating in its insistent repetition, it's probably not for toj.

others seem to use profanity to express anger, shock, or surprise--coffee in the lap, rat in the room, spouse in the doghouse. although these emotional outbursts share an authenticity with the first pattern of usage, they generally are accompanied with more oomph and pack a more powerful punch. if a character drops an anvil on his toe, a lone word can communicate a lot. when the anvil crushes the toe, it really isn't necessary for the character to say anything intelligible, but a brief curse certainly has more literary merit than a weak "ouch, that hurt!"

returning to paul's letter to the corinthians, i find that scripture seems to be speaking to precisely this kind of profanity, this harsh un-love-ly response to life lemons. personally, this is the point where i choose not to swear. but what about my characters? what about a poem in the editorial slush pile?

and finally, the occasional speaker of profanity seems to use their swear words literally, that is, their profanity means what it says. when profanity is used for the purpose of clear explication, when no other word conveys the same meaning as the ostracized word, i think this is where the editorial gates must open wide and begrudgingly let the word stay.

art and morality seem to be in a strange match of tug-o-war, and as a young editor, i'm caught in between, wondering how things turned out this way. if i truly believe that art is our way of communicating some sense of truth, of unconsciously channeling messages from the divine, how do i balance artistic integrity with moral integrity?

i don't really know, but i stand behind art like "hedonist's prayer," art that navigates the precipice of profanity with care, that uses every word to serve the purpose of the work without succumbing to shock and awe, and that seeks to show us something of ourselves, the world around us, and perhaps God.

tell me your favorite writers and poets!

maps are a simple metaphor for almost anything. i recently wrote an article that discussed some new findings regarding alzheimer's disease and cerebrospinal fluid biomarkers, and what did i use as the article's primary conceit? a map.

and now that i have a few dozen pictures of steve and his map, what better way to solicit advice than to reapply the map metaphor?

i'm looking for some amazing writers that tackle issues of faith and redemption in their work, and i'm hoping that you can be my map. i'm looking for big names and small names, novelists and poets--anyone that writes powerfully and writes well.

i'm particularly interested in writers that might creatively engage topics of atheism (i.e., faith, doubt, superstition, and science) and education (learning, growth, self-ization), but any literary scribe will do.

i'm gathering these names as part of a list of potential writers and interviewees for upcoming issues of the other journal.

if you think of someone, please let me know, and if you peruse my tentative list (including such longshots as david james duncan and marilynne robinson), and are in agreement or disagreement with my inclusion of some particular writers, be sure to tell me.

thanks!

news

it's been a busy weekend.

monday is the launch of the first issue of the other journal with me as the creative writing editor, so i spent all of saturday editing content and assisting my editor-in-chief and managing editor. monday is my second day of class (a fun yet grueling 3 hour affair), so after church, i spent sunday reading, hating the NFL, and doing homework. monday is the return of my continentally-estranged s.o.; i didn't really have to do anything to prepare for this, but it hopefully means that i'll be busy on tuesday.

yikes, i'm going to be worn out.

also, i'm probably headed to oregon this week: my grandpa passed away early saturday morning, and the memorial service will probably be this week. we sang a song in church today about christ's death and resurrection, and i had to stop singing because i was a little choked up. if you're a 17 point scale loyalist, my grandpa's the one that i've been posting interview segments from. i don't know what i think about adding more interview segments at the moment. in the meantime, here's a song that i've posted before, which somehow seems to fit how i feel right now:

http://www.roachmusic.com/music/AJ_Roach-Grandaddy.mp3

my grandpa certainly never "ran whiskey" but i really like that last verse; i think it communicates what people thought of my grandpa. he was an amazing man:

granddady passed away on his birthday,
just a couple ---- of a century ----.
everybody was ---- just to help him celebrate,
and we all cried when he didn't wake up.
mama' gave me a black and white picture framed
of the man in his funeral clothes.
had to hold five or six separate services,
and everybody in the county must have showed.
john, you're gonna shine like silver.
yeah, you're gonna' hear such a beautiful grievous sound
when you're floating over them jordan river,
and we lay your earthly body down.

ah, i love that verse.

(by the way "----" means that i'm not sure what singer says, not that i think he's swearing!)

the good news and the bad news

the good news
my soccer team won 4-1 last night! whoohooo!

in addition to my research editor position at the VA, i am now working as the creative writing editor for the other journal, an online quarterly that publishes essays, reviews, and creative writing that investigate theology, culture, and social justice.

and it gets even more exciting. for its ninth issue birthday, TOJ received a great big check from mars hill graduate school (not to be confused with ballard's mars hill church). this financial support is a sign that TOJ is growing, and with this growth in mind, the TOJ editors are making matters of style, punctuation, and writerly perfection a priority. therefore, becky (the former creative writing editor and new master copyeditor) and i get to establish (and enforce) a house style. this may sound daunting or even painful, but the creation of editorial guidelines is really a copyeditor's dream come true.

the bad news
you've probably noticed that the 17 point scale content has been scarce recently. well, get used to it. because of soccer and TOJ, i don't really have much spare time for blogging. i'll try and keep the numeric book and film ratings up-to-date, and i may occasionally post reviews (e.g., i have an in-progress review of cormac mccarthy's border trilogy that i hope to publish one day) or life updates, but don't expect many of my signature quirky reflections or picture captions.

someday the 17 point scale may return, but in the meantime, i won't be hurt if you stop visiting or change your homepage to some other blog.

send me an email (sparklinandrewivories@hotandrewmail.com but remove the andrews) or leave me a comment if you're interested in hearing directly about future incarnations of the 17 point scale.

-andrew


andrew david. "the setting point scale" ocean shores, wa.