Monthly Archives: December 2004

In the next hour or so, I’m off to Richmond to meet my aunt and uncle for lunch before heading off to the airport.

Here’s hoping there’ll be no lasers pointed at cockpits, no baggage losses, no sick-ins of airport employees, airplanes running off of runways, terrorist attacks, blizzards, or scary Customs agents to face.

I’m just ready to be home again — and hopefully I will be, around midnight CST tonight.

I’m in the middle of reading Elmer Gantry, a satiric novel by Sinclair Lewis. Written in 1927, this novel follows the life of a traveling evangelist — reveling in his hypocritical glories of saying one thing from the pulpit, and living another vision altogether. So far, it’s scathing (and I love it). Even though it was written so long ago, it’s interesting how much it is still relevant for today.

I’m only 100 pages or so into it, but by the time I’m finished flying home tomorrow, I hope to have a better understanding of the main character’s struggles with his faith.

Like a few ministers I have come across, Gantry plagiarizes like crazy. Here’s one passage by Robert G. Ingersoll that I particularly liked:

Love is the only bow on life’s dark cloud. It is the Morning and the Evening Star. It shines upon the cradle of the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the mother of Art, inspirer of poet, patriot and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart, builder of every home, kindler of every fire on every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody, for Music is the voice of Love. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of the wondrous flower — the heart — and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven and we are gods.

I do like that.

I’m going to smuggle my mom’s cat in my carry-on bag, tomorrow. JJ is one lovely kitty — whilst a little high maintenance in his cuddlings (as in, laying on top of your stomach so it’s nearly impossible to type or read your book). He’s almost as bad as Colby, sans the biting everything in site. I love how cats do this pawing thing before they finally settle into their cuddle stage.

Tomorrow, I’m homeward bound. Tonight, I’m insomnianic (and creative in my word-making abilities). Here are a couple of links I’ve been meaning to post:

  • Candy Cane for your Portrait: Taken in Brooklyn a week before Christmas, here’s a series of portraits taken in exchange for, well, a candy cane. There’s some great faces here, and one idea that would be fun to try out in Saskatoon. (thanks, Patrick)
  • Buy Nothing Christmas: Yes, yes, we’ve been through the throes of Buy Nothing Days, how’s about a Buy Nothing holiday? This movement was started by a bunch of Canadian Mennonites, and it’s a movement to decommericalize Christmas and re-emphasize aspects of the holiday that are often neglected in its consumeristic glory. I’m still in the midst of discovering the different aspects of the site, but I really liked their tract Jesus Shops for Sandals, and I’m trying to articulate my reaction to it. I’ll save that for another post down the line, though.
  • Roger Ebert’s 10 Best Films of 2004: I admit it, I’m an Ebert fan, for the most part. He’s particularly literary in his reviews, which is something a geek can appreciate. And typically, we see eye-to-eye on qualities of film. This list is interesting, especially considering the number of films that NEVER made it to Saskatoon (grrr). I am excited, however, that Vera Drake is finally making its way to The Broadway this week.
  • Speaking of movies, if you have a lot of time to kill, go try out The Guardian’s 2004 Film Quiz. I’ve had the window open for a couple of hours, and every now and then I fill out a question. I think graduate school has given me a shorter attention span for examinations.



Me and my dad. (please note the new Wonder Woman teeshirt and lightening bolt earrings)


Home-sick.

Speaking of reality, how’s this for you? Here are two new reality tv shows coming out soon:

PBS’s documentary The Congregation — a film about the United Methodist church, and a minister’s struggles with her congregation. It’s on PBS tonight at 9:30.

From the website:

THE CONGREGATION, a new cinema vérité documentary by Alan and Susan Raymond, profiles a progressive United Methodist church in the midst of profound change as it struggles with the arrival of a new minister and must reinvent itself under new leadership. Co-produced by WETA Washington, DC, the film airs Wednesday, December 29 from 9:30 to 11:30 p.m. ET (check local listings) on PBS.

Producers Alan and Susan Raymond spent more than two years filming the tumultuous life of The First United Methodist Church of Germantown. Located in a changing Philadelphia neighborhood, it is a racially mixed urban church with a commitment to a ministry of social justice.

Talk about cutthroat! Who’s willing to bet it’ll be more brutal than Survivor? I should know, I’ve been in the midst of church politics. This is one film I want to catch.

The other reality show is unbelieveable. I can’t believe someone thought of this idea — and that a station wants to actually produce it. Fox’s Who’s your Daddy?: The Fox network said Tuesday it will air a special next month, “Who’s Your Daddy?”, where a daughter given up for adoption as an infant attempts to guess the identity of her birth father for a $100,000 prize.

Oh. my. goodness. Our American empire must really be poised on the edge of destruction, if this is our latest attempt at entertainment.

Homeward Bound

Paul Simon



I’m sitting in the railway station.

Got a ticket to my destination.

On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.

And ev’ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.

Homeward bound,

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home where my thought’s escaping,

Home where my music’s playing,

Home where my love lies waiting

Silently for me.

Ev’ry day’s an endless stream

Of cigarettes and magazines.

And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories

And ev’ry stranger’s face I see reminds me that I long to be,

Homeward bound,

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home where my thought’s escaping,

Home where my music’s playing,

Home where my love lies waiting

Silently for me.

Tonight I’ll sing my songs again,

I’ll play the game and pretend.

But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity

Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.

Homeward bound,

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home where my thought’s escaping,

Home where my music’s playing,

Home where my love lies waiting

Silently for me.

Silently for me.

(In honor of synchronicity!)