What's more. I gave up on math. With enough bosses telling me they don't have enough time to teach me to read a clock, divide hundreds into four equal parts, count change, figure out 10 percent of 100, what the blank do I care about being so brazen as to act like I can add. I'll get told to hush and listen and stop being so insolent. This I get from those who tell me Einstein proved you can travel backward in time and E=mc^2. Today is a good day to find a hole in which to crawl.

I make my own trials. I long to be free, but I don't know how.

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. That's why on errands I considered my dissident status. Feeling like a Soviet hero of sorts for holding my ground and believing in Newton, Coulomb, and classical fields and finding nothing but leaps of logic in Einstein. Call me schizo for explaining Michelson-Morley in terms of Coulomb chain reactions. If I'm schizo, I can roll down the windows of the car, let my messy hair blow all over the place, and scream at the top of my lungs imitating whoever comes on the radio. People in the resume-padding crowd just can't do that.

I finished reading Flemming Rose's book, The Tyranny of Silence, last night. It was great and insightful about how thought police go about calling the shots. Rose for some time has lived under death threats for exercising freedom of speech. One of the chapters held Solzhenitsyn up. I got a rush every time I read, "Refuse to live the lie." I highly recommend the book. My only complaint is the work had a tinge of elevating atheism above other belief systems.

I'd love to have a better brain and be able to keep up, but I can only be true to what little I perceive as reality and logical connections between the various pieces. I always fall short, but I would like to use free speech to express reality as I see it. I have no hope of changing anybody, nor do I have any kind of expertise on what they should be doing, so the concept of defensive speech sounds a little too controlling for me. Whereas you grew up Native American (sounds really cool!), I grew up in a household with high standards, but no religion. God kept giving me reasons to believe in him, so I eventually got baptized. The way I understand Christianity today, the only legitimate force we can use is love. What I'm saying is, I don't know what is behind that hyperlink named after the devil, but I sure don't want to touch it.

We disagree again!

lunazure said

I'm sorta funny with religion (never went to church as a kid, or very little anyway). I think you have to know a little Devil and a little God to make choices.... I was just mulling a comment Justin made on the first cruise during his solo gig, "It's like casting a spell" and I think he's right, music is like that, very powerful and can yes control your mind, and does. Justin uses it for good, most good performing musicians do. Possibly other musicians and dancers are more aware of this.... when I studied dance academically the question continually came up "does the music control your dance? Or does the dance define and bring to life the music?"

I wasn't one to believe in spells, but one time I thought about how going to Moodies I let the spirit wash all over me and then I get in that petrified state that has frightened you and others for Justin's sake. I began referring to that as being spellbound. I could snap out of it anytime I want, but I don't want to. It's the best/highest feeling/state of mind I've found. I have to wait for the show to end and the thought of the gruesome 12-hour ride ahead to return to normalcy.

lunazure said

Music controls the mood... what we hear controls moods and minds, by corollary what we say can be controlling.... all of it, so the other choice is to remain mute if you do not wish to control.... or touch.... others ever. It's funny, I've learned more and more how to use my voice to control situations as a teacher. All teachers do it. It's our way of dealing with children.... make them feel good with a nice vocal tone etc. Then they don't throw spit wads.

That's probably why I was such a bad teacher. I could reason with one or two bad apples, but not 32 in the same room. I therefore stuck to "teaching" college or gifted kids. I am totally opposed to telling people what to do. It is rather apparent that you are an alpha and I am whatever comes after omega. I indeed took the Libertarian oath of noninitiation of force. I belong to a church that teaches compulsion (including mental coercion) is of the devil. I feel creepy anytime I try to tell anybody what to do, and if I do, I find out my suggestion is utterly foolish.

lunazure said
"Native American" is just different, and I had no idea of it until I got into master's level cross cultural, like I say. Weird to look at the world through two different lenses.

I took several 400-level courses in Native American anthropology, but nothing higher. I was really into that scene in a hippie kind of way. I wanted to go live on the Navajo res, and teaching seemed a great way to get there - until I discovered with 1980s technology I could not teach myself the Navajo language with 4-5 letters with "no English equivalent." I'm such a pooper.

lunazure said
Ayn Rand was fond of saying "the devil is not mighty and great and noble.... he is many, petty and small"....... something like that. I think when we are absolute, and "reject evil" or the devil or whatever..... that is when it slips up on you. "Know the enemy" and "That which we survive makes us stronger" might be more in order.

It sounds out of character with her published works, where the supernatural realm was relegated to witchdoctory. Trust me, I have no problems rushing to evil and running into temptation. When was the last time you had a friend who said, "Hey! Let's glorify God!" "Let's help the poor!" "Let's get together and do something ingeniously lovely and glorious!" My friends always looked for trouble and I was their useful idiot. I'm at work all the time, so I don't have time for friends, but the boss has a friend who talks to me who wants to stir up evil. Church friends treat me like a spedly. They can't call on me to help with anything because my stinkin' availability is now between 3 and 7 am. When was the last time you had a boss that wanted you to take a stand for truth? Mine want me to spook up stats into meaningless graphs. I record data for no good purpose. Oh, how I miss the old ESJ days when I had to hold ideas up to the real world and try to make things work. With my life now a total pile of manure, the last thing I need is to immerse myself in my free time in demonic tripe. Justin! Take me away! [Insert round object in computer's cup holder. Ahhhh. Sounds nice. Reminds me. My best friend at church today was surprised to find out I didn't have blue eyes.]

You're great, luna. We can disagree without calling upon our inner children to throw tantrums and shut down dialogue - Well, you can. I'm still working at me. (That funny syntax is me not being able to multitask - listen to Justin and type.)

I'm hip on freedom of religion and freedom of speech, so I encourage people to say exactly what they believe. I can relate to the open sky as a church. It sounds like a good idea to me. I love the sky, but churches are dry.

Seriously. Did they use the phrase "Native American" forty years ago? Our college curricula explicitly had "Indian" in the course names. I had a real cool prof for about three classes who lived amongst the Indians, took drunken joy rides with them in government vehicles. I trusted he knew whereof he spoke. The downsides of dependent culture are what I hear most. I could listen long and large if you wanted to talk about Native Americans the next time we meet up. You just have to keep it G-rated.

Was I talking about devils? I broke a mug at work, and it is sitting on the desk here with a bottle of E6000 in it waiting for me to quit typing on the Moodies' board and fix it. The dog trainer came in and inquired about it. It reminded me of the time I broke a Strawberry Shortcake mug when house sitting 20 years ago. That night, I dreamed a huge - like 6-8' proportionally-scaled Strawberry Shortcake was coming after me.

OK. I had to do a word search. I was talking about those critters of coercion. I apologize. There is so much beauty in the world - like that gorgeous weeping tree out the window - and so little time.

I had a dream that the vowels in alphabet soup weren't sinking, so we were trying to pronounce them in ways that would be less buoyant. Then, last night I dreamed I was in a "meet-n-greet" line, and the girl in front of me invited Justin to go out to her car. He consented, and I was flabberghast. Everybody was acting as if there was an obvious innuendo. I don't remember my words, but I told Justin to call us (referring to the fans left inside) if things went bad. When I woke up, I was surprised I had said so much to him.

The back channel sounds like a place I do not want to go - unless you are talking about a TM form of breathing.

Back on subject: Fully 16 percent of fans talk about Justin's lyrics hitting home. For every one person talking, 8.6 others remain silent. Totals vary as the 3/2 power of the number of concerts within a 246.7034988-mile radius of the speaker's primary place of work on Tuesdays. This statement is made with a (-3.75 + 4i)% confidence level.

"I try not to analyze it." - Anon