There seem to be issues with the posting system on this site, so let me redirect you to my other outlet, which is at http://formyfunction.blogspot.com.

This morning we went to see Doctor Stockley, a hilarious English physician who has been practicing in Uganda for at least a few decades. The whole presentation was pretty much the scariest stand up comedy routine I'd ever witnessed. His seven rules for staying healthy in Uganda:

1. If you're tired, go to sleep. Most medevac situations arise out of not getting enough rest when your body is fighting the common cold or flu.
2. If you get diarrhea, take the medication and it will be gone within 12 hours; if it lasts, come in for a stool sample.
3. Don't ride the matatus (basic mode of transportation/vans), they are death traps. Boda bodas (motorcycles/mopeds) are better, because you only get broken legs. [Note: we're learning to ride the matatus this afternoon; apparently it's when they get on the open road that they are lethal, but in the city they're safer. And we're stricly forbidden from partaking in the boda boda fun unless we're in the country on practicum and it's the only option for transportation.]
4. Take your malaria medications or you'll get malaria (which sucks). Except, doxycycline (which I'm on) is about 95% effective, so you might still get it. Oh joy.
5. Be sensible and you won't die or get raped. I.e., don't get on a boda boda at 3 am after partying all night. (Actually, that was an "e.g.," if you get my drift.)
6. Play in the water. Even though you can get bilarzia (symptoms and complications include: brain tumor-like growths, temporary paralysis, worms living in various parts of your body, etc.) simply by being in the water, it can be treated very easily. So go ahead and partake in some of the best white-water rafting in the world and swim in the world's largest freshwater lake.
7. Keep your knickers on. That is to say, don't have sex and you won't get HIV, HPV, gonorrhea, syphillis, herpes, genital warts, etc. And if you really must, go in for an HIV test before you have at it (although those tests don't cover all the other fun things you can contract).

This came out of an hour and a half comedic lecture he gave us, where he also insisted on multiple occasions that England, Scandinavia, and Holland were all in Mexico. Doc Stock was pretty much something you would expect out of some ridiculous adventure novel: super quirky and eccentric, larger-than-life personality, British accent, and immensely quotable ("I'm sexually active. Of course, I'm married, so not all that often."). This trip gets better and better.

After lunch we'll be meeting our some new Ugandan friends who are basically paid to hang out with us and teach us how to navigate and live in Kampala. Sort of an awkward situation, but still should be a good way to interact better.

Today we went to church.

Unfortunately, we thought church started at 10:30; it actually began an hour later. We didn't really figure this out until the rector noted at the end of the service that they have worship meetings at 7:00, 9:30, and noon. Oops. We were there for communion and a good bit of liturgical worship, though.

Unsurprisingly, late as we were, when we arrived the usher's first words were, "I have just the place for you!" That translated to the first row. So, we walked to the very front of what is a sizable church, pretty much the only mzungus (that is, white folk) in a sea of locals. Slightly awkward. But apparently this is something to get used to, as in the rural churches they expect you also to have a song/dance or sermon in hand to present to everyone.

Now, one of the more interesting aspects of this service was the presence of a guest bishop from America. That would be The Rt. Rev. John A. M. Guernsey. Rev. Guernsey was visiting, as he is the Bishop of the Church of Uganda for Congregations in America. Apparently he is one of the more conservative Episcopalians in the U.S. who are breaking away from the U.S. denomination and joining with more conservative bodies in Africa in a split catalyzed by the ordination of homosexual clergy. Of course, it's slightly easier to be conservative in that sense in Uganda; it's illegal to be gay here. Either way, it was interesting to observe this split on the ground and see how it is playing out for the everyman.

I sort of wish we had been there for the first service, because from what we saw of the service, it was about as emotionally-unengaging as most of my past experiences with Anglicanism. I only say that because the mind was about as equally unengaged unless you're thoroughly familiar with Anglicanism (which I'm not, to be fair). Either way, it made for a good story and a lesson learned.

Well, it's about 3 a.m. here in Uganda, and it appears that I'm the only one up at the moment. I probably could be trying a tad bit harder to sleep, but the rule of thumb I've learned throughout life with jet lag is to sleep when you're tired, and don't worry when you're not.

The drive from Entebbe to Kampala yesterday was about an hour long. I managed to stay awake for the first third of it, and it reminded me a lot of driving through Peru. Not so much in the visual sense, because everything here is fairly lush and green compared the relative dry and dusty feel of la costa in Peru. I think what brings up memories is observing what people are doing: the bicycles carrying heavy loads, people walking a lot, lots of tiki buses (here known as matatus), motorcycles galore (which we have been forbidden from riding), lots of homemade signs for stores, and even more billboards made out of the sides and facades of buildings. It may be this latter thing that especially reminds me of Peru, because I don't recall many other places in my travels where building fronts and sides were turned into large commercial signs.

So then I slept the second third, and was awakened by rain on my face coming through the window; somewhat pleasant, really. By that time, we were out of the relative rural setting where Entebbe (a much smaller city that has the civil and U.N. airports) is located and into Kampala. It is quite a shift between the two settings, mostly in terms of density. There were at least two points where somebody threw themselves in front of our bus, eliciting a frantic gasp from other riders and a quick braking reaction from the driver. Welcome back to developing world driving, eh?

Food for the Hungry International's (henceforth referred to as FHI) guesthouse is located near what we were told is the red light district of Kampala after about 9 p.m. So of course last night after we went out for some ice cream, we ventured down that way. I honestly was not quite expecting the degree of freedom that we will have for this semester, so I need to get around to digging up my proverbial adventure hat and donning it. Not that it should be all that difficult. Our brief jaunt down the road yielded myriad restaurants with big screens featuring every Premier League game imaginable. It appears I shall be to once again partake in British football on a regular basis.

It's interesting that in general, my first reactions to being are of comfort. It seems fairly normal to be here, almost like returning home. There are two ways to look at that, of course. I have spent 13 of my years in developing countries, so it makes sense that I would find some sort of familiarity in that situation. On the other hand, I'm wary of then assuming that I know how to effectively interact with culture here, and wrongful assumptions in general. Anyway, we spend tomorrow taking it easy and getting some of the basics of Kampala down: transportation, money, communicating, karaoke, etc.

Our flight out of Phoenix was delayed, so we rescheduled onto an earlier one and rushed ourselves to the airport.

All but one of us missed the flight we had been rebooked onto out of Phoenix, so we caught yet another flight to Atlanta five hours later. Then we flew to DC in the early morning.

In DC, we rejoined our other student and found out that someone had canceled Julia's (our leader/coordinator) ticket. We all boarded the flight to Addis Abbaba and didn't really think Julia would be joining us.

About eight hours into the flight to Rome, we realized Julia was on the plane. Good news, finally! We landed in Rome, refueled, stood up, sat down, and took off.

Five hours later, we landed in Ethiopia. And our plane was delayed a bit.

After a two hour flight, we landed in Uganda and proceeded to collect every single one of our bags! Apparently, that is a first time event for a Go Ed group.

Now, after a nap and some dinner, I'm sitting on the top floor of the huge house we're staying in, waiting to go out for ice cream and listening to the monkey that lives in our trees. This semester is going to be good.

We began orientation around noon today at Food for the Hungry's headquarters, after a long walk around the downtown in 90+ degree heat to try and find a drugstore (we were unsuccessful). This consisted of basic icebreakers and a couple of lectures.

I love listening to my Uncle Marc (VP of Mobilization for FH) talk through the history of the American church and its theology, as well as that of FH. The overview we're getting really builds my anticipation for the whole semester, and it will awesome to learn the course material.

Some logistical info:

I will post pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/knavisgoed .

My cell phone number while in Africa is 256 0774 330369. (Note: if calling from the US, you'll have to dial 011 first.) Give me a call sometime! Also, I can send and receive text messages from Uganda for pretty cheap.

A specific mailing address:

Food for the Hungry
Attn: Kyle Navis
P.O. Box 12167
Zzimwe Close, Plot 40
Muyenga, Kampala, Uganda

I arrived today around 1 pm in Phoenix, after what seemed like a roadtrip on an airplane, with stops in Portland and Sacramento. I made the mistake of not having much breakfast and washing it down with 16 oz. of a strong French press coffee. I was wired for the next two flights.

Phoenix reminds me of the Saudi heat. And it's downright irresponsible how many golf courses are in this city. For shame; how much water is used on them to keep them green in the middle of the desert?

I remember reading sometime last week an article like this one, talking about a group of Christians gathering in Washington, D.C. to pray for lower gas prices. I admit I'm immediately tempted to simply write this off as a new manifestation of Christian absurdity. To be honest, that's probably a fair interpretation as well, but in the interest of charity, it might be worth asking the question as to whether or not it's a good thing to do.

From one perspective, the people who suffer most from high gas prices are those who already live at the threshold of poverty and are unable to absorb rising prices. So, in some ways, it is in the interest of the poor to seek lower gas prices, whatever way that may be. Likewise, though it seems somewhat pretentious to claim God's direct intervention in gas prices, God is one who works in history, right? So from that perspective it could be fair to interpret that as God's work.

Of course, that flies in the face of all sorts of contextual knowledge that quite easily explains the way gas prices are determined, etc. The linked article cites a time when the pastor in question was praying in Huntsville, Alabama and the owners immediately came out and lowered the prices. To simply plaster a "Done by GOD" sticker on that action seems utterly ridiculous. It ignores the time of day (perhaps gas prices changed anyway and needed to be updated), or perhaps the owner had some sense of business and felt threatened by a group of frustrated consumers and tried to appease them.

Besides, it ignores all sorts of better things to pray for. Like actual solutions to problems; e.g. improved infrastructure for alternative energy, creative problem-solving, politicians who actually direct money and resources to those solutions, etc. (To be fair, the group did say, "we've encouraged people to car-pool more and organise their days more, because it's a combination of faith with these other factors.")

Anyway, I must cut this short now. But before I go, if you have a minute, go listen to the song, "Hello Mr. Soul" by Pickwick. It has been an oft-visited song this past week.

If you're reading this, it's probably because I sent an email to you describing my coming semester abroad in Uganda and Rwanda. So hello!

If you're interested in learning more about Go ED, you can read more about it here.

Also, here's a brief outline of my calendar:
Aug 19: leave Spokane, fly to Phoenix
Aug 21: leave Phoenix, fly to Entebbe, Uganda
Aug 23-Sept 28: in Uganda
Sept 29-Oct 24: practicum; location TBD
Oct 26-28: safari
Oct 29-Dec 5: in Rwanda
Dec 6-12: in Uganda
Dec 13: arrive in Phoenix

Yesterday, I had the privilege to attend the Empyrean Coffeehouse Pub's first ever Madison Street Fair. My observations:

1. I am disappointed by the general lack of turnout on the part of Spokane. But, it might be noted that if the fair had been done during the school year, you might have had a significant influx of college-age students there between Gonzaga, Whitworth, and Eastern Washington universities.
2. Music underneath a train bridge sounds excellent. Unfortunately...
3. Music outside, in general, needs a pretty decent crowd to pull off a good vibe.
4. The set of the night, at least of those I attended, was without a doubt that of Pickwick. This young band from Seattle blew everyone away, and the indoor venue was packed for it. The moment they began with their four-part vocal harmonies, we knew the life of our ears was about to improve.
5. Admittedly, it can sometime be very tempting to write Slowly We Survive off as over-the-top Muse worship, but they put on an all-consuming live show. Apparently in the studio, I sure hope they cash out what's needed for some good production.
6. The Globes, while excellent to listen to with headphones, didn't capture me as much live on an outdoor stage.
7. Next time, I'd love to see The Lonely Forest. I love that band.
8. The crowning moment: watching a couple dance with their child of younger than a year during Pickwick's set. I remember watching The Trucks play at Western Washington University about four years ago, and there was a similar scene. Those are most of the few instances where I've ever been like, "I want to be THAT dad..."

This week, we spent some of a morning devotional time considering Ezekiel 3:3-11. What came to me during that time were some thoughts on the small vs. big government debate; I honestly couldn't tell you why that came to mind, as it seems wholly irrelevant to the text.

Anyway, what I remembered was a brief moment during the discussion of the Democracy School I attended a couple weekends ago. One of the main goals of the organizers behind Democracy School is to see smaller, individual municipalities have more decision-making power given back to them, so that they are not always at the behest of state-level lawmakers.

However, here's the irony of seeking smaller government: a number of the people who affirmed the movement were vehemently opposed to the possibility of "unenlightened" sorts actually having power. That is, they wouldn't trust people in communities that are, to be frank, more conservative, to make what liberals would consider good decisions.

I find it reprehensible on a certain level for people to be seeking a freedom they wouldn't extend to people they disagree with. It becomes the opposite of the spirit of the plural democracy that the United States aims for.

The thing is, this makes me wonder about some of hierarchy and structures of church government. In denominations like the Presbyterians or Anglicans, we are increasingly seeing situations where congregations seek to make decisions that depart from the official view of the national body, and the larger body uses a variety of means to wrest the local congregations back under its control. To me that's hard because it toes the line between a sort of ecclesiastical oppression and discernment regarding where correction might need to occur.

Too often, though, it does indeed seem like the main reason a person doesn't want to allow local bodies to make their own decisions is because they feel that they know better. We are more enlightened, we are more educated, we know what's best. While the second of these is certainly a valid reason for argument, it requires taking the time make a convincing argument, and really validate the reasons why you might disagree. Simply waving credentials in someone's face is often not enough.

Anyway, I'm not trying to construct a particular argument here. Rather, this is more a meander through a smattering of thoughts that come up when I think of how utterly ironic it is to see people who purport to want better democracy threaten to withhold it because "they know better." In the Christian sense, that too seems to be a distrust of the work of the Holy Spirit. That is, if it is always assumed that the people at the top know what's best, discounting the opinion and thought of the "mere" layperson, this seems to set up a hierarchy of who has access to the guidance of the Spirit.

Again, though, these are frustrated, disorganized thoughts. Someday, perhaps I'll systematize them. Not now, though. Today is Saturday, a time to relax and recover from a fast-paced, semi-stressful week. The house is wonderful at the moment. Ozzie's leg is recovering slowly, Dom is in the basement playing sax, and Greg is working in another room after another week of wedding madness for him.

This afternoon I revisited some more of Peter Maurin's Easy Essays and read "Feeding the Poor at a Sacrifice":

1. In the first centuries
of Christianity
the hungry were fed
at a personal sacrifice,
the naked were clothed
at a personal sacrifice,
the homeless were sheltered
at personal sacrifice.
2. And because the poor
were fed, clothed and sheltered
at a personal sacrifice,
the pagans used to say
about the Christians
"See how they love each other."
3. In our own day
the poor are no longer
fed, clothed, sheltered
at a personal sacrifice,
but at the expense
of the taxpayers.
4. And because the poor
are no longer
fed, clothed and sheltered
the pagans say about the Christians
"See how they pass the buck."

Every time I read this, I crack up at the end, because Maurin uses his great wit to make what is really quite a biting critique of the church. Now don't get me wrong, I'm aware as much as anybody (and probably more than most, to be honest) of the myriad things the church does for the poor, but Maurin consistently calls for a radicalism beyond that. I appreciate this.

I read this essay to Greg, and his response was twofold. First, he pointed out that government welfare has been terrible for the church. Again, a sort of ironic criticism. Welfare has served many people well, and many people horribly. I run into and work with a lot of people who it doesn't serve so well at the Center For Justice on a daily basis. I certainly affirm that welfare needs reform, but in the political sphere I wouldn't advocate its removal. But should I?

Greg's point is essentially that where governments previously made little effort to provide any services to the proverbial least of these, churches became the central locale for distributing resources to the poor. This relates to Greg's second comment, which is that giving the poor was what sacrifice was about in the first place. That is, when people brought their firstfruits and fattest calf to the temple for sacrifice, they were then distributed to those in need. That would be like the equivalent of going to a Whole Foods and buying their best food to serve at the church's soup kitchen. Why is that such a laughable thought?

So then, how far will I take the idea that the church loses when the government steps in? Not very, largely because the government frequently seems to do a fairly sub-par job of stepping in. Likewise, it's easy to get stuck in philosophical arguments about big- or small-government, but when you get to pragmatics, it becomes a different ball game. While there are plenty of cracks for people to fall into, without a government structure in place to work with and navigate, the cracks would probably become canyons. It's easy then to idealize the hope that the church would step up and suddenly experience some sort of resurgence. But realistically, it's highly unlikely that government will suddenly drop welfare programs, and the issue is not so black and white as to be worth pursuing. Likewise, that ignores all the people in need in the meantime.

Perhaps the best response to Maurin's essay is not so much to advocate a particular side in polity disputes, but to simply take heed of 1. and 2. When we begin to take the plight of others as an issue worthy of sacrificing something of our own, and not just referring them to the proper authority or non-profit organization, what changes might occur in ourselves?

For the first three years of high school, I lived in Saudi Arabia. On May 12, 2003, nearing the end of my tenth grade year, three compounds that foreigners lived on were attacked simultaneously at night (read the details here). Anyway, that summer we returned early to the United States for vacation, and were a bit shell-shocked because of the expectation of the same thing happening to us. In the back of your mind, you sort of always expected that something could happen, and the sound of explosions would herald the bad news.

July 4th was a real riot. As we got nearer to the day, people started lighting off firecrackers a tad prematurely, which when unexpected made my the hair on my neck stand on end. It wasn't good for my stress level, to say the least. Later that summer, I was flipping burgers at the county fair at a food stand behind the grandstand. All of a sudden, a huge explosion reverberated from the other side of the grandstand. I hit the deck and cowered there for a second as all my coworkers gave me weird looks. I later heard that my sister had the same reaction, and that my mother just broke down and started crying.

So these are the things that come to my mind listening to the explosions celebrating 234th birthday of the United States.

"Better a little with righteousness
than much gain with injustice."

I came across this vignette this morning, and it sums up the profit-seeking ethic with which I would love to run a business. Not only that, but it directly relates to spending habits. This could be beating a dead horse, but consider clothing: if something is made in unjust circumstances, but cheap, shouldn't this direct us to choose the more expensive piece made with just labor practices? So even though you might not be able to afford as much of the clothing, it would still be a little with righteousness, rather than a closet full of injustice.

Obviously we've been slacking somewhat with this feed. But as we move into July, things are settling in more and we anticipate the regularity a tad more. For the moment, Ozzie and Zach are in their respective hometowns, and I have just returned from Denver for a few days.

Spokane seems ridiculously hot, or at least our house does. Probably a combination of both. Our tomatoes, raspberries, garlic, and zucchini plants all are looking quite promising. So now we hit the lazy part of summer, which means late nights on our porches, epic foosball games, sun tea and iced tea, and time.

This is Kyle (I think our "posted by" mechanism still is working). I'm in Hong Kong at the moment for my sister's graduation from high school. It's ridiculously warm and humid, which is a glorious departure from Spokane's recent weather patterns, so I haven't complained. There's just something about walking outside and not needing any extra layers at all. Also, since this is a former British colony, people value soccer, which means I get to watch all the Euro 2008 games.

Anyway, on the way over I watched The Devil Wears Prada. It wasn't particularly enlightening, but it softly offered its own challenge to a culture that often overvalues work to the detriment of a person's relationships. There was one encounter in particular that basically sums up the entire message of the movie. It occurs when the protagonist, Andrea, is asked by a coworker, Nigel, why she just gave him some attitude.

Andrea: "My personal life is hanging by a thread, that's all."
Nigel: "That's what happens when you start doing well at work, darling. When your life goes up in smoke, that means it's time for a promotion."

Andrea is the personal assistant to the head of fashion magazine, and basically functions as a slave to her; available 24/7, no questions asked. Over time her relationships with family and friends suffer immensely as a result.

Last night I had dinner with a friend from Hong Kong who I met way back in my senior year of high school. He now works here in Hong Kong for huge investment bank, and his day begins at 5:45 am and ends anywhere between 6:00 pm and 10:30 pm. Ridiculous, no? But that is apparently what is expected of the young investment banker.

I understand that at certain points in life a person has to give up a lot of things for the sake of work (during the school year, this is all too easily the case), but at what point do you draw the line? At what point does work take too much priority over people? How do you draw a balance, while remaining responsible?

Granted, it's difficult to ask these questions when they are disconnected from an actual situation, but I think they remain important to have in mind when entering into them. This is part of the whole point of Knox House; the interweaving of prayer and work in a rhythm of daily life. When done in community, the role of relationships in these two becomes all the more apparent because they are communally. And because our rule binds us only loosely compared to more traditional monasteries, we can't connect these two as well as they might. Still, it's an attempt to stop dichotomizing the elements of life.

Anyway, a couple more choice quotes:

"The person whose call you take is the relationship you're in.

This one is from Andrea's boyfriend, after she takes a call from the boss in the middle of a rather intense conversation. I must say that I support his point. I've observed that when people are conversing and a cell phone rings, both generally defer the conversation so that the recipient can answer the call. Why is it that both consent to this? It really does seem to send the message that the person on the phone is more important than the person in front of you. While sometimes that may be true, surely not with the universality that it seems to occur.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Andrea. Everybody wants this. Everybody wants to be us."

So said Andrea's boss, the fashionista magazine editor. The smugness and assurance with which she said it isn't necessarily unwarranted, either. It's somewhat true, unfortunately. I certainly hope that it becomes less true with time, but that may be the highest of naivetes.

I don't want to end this on an entirely hopeless point. But perhaps I can encourage you to reconsider what success and satisfaction mean for you. So allow me to end this with a prayer from the second chapter (The Blessedness of Possessing Nothing) of A.W. Tozer's "The Pursuit of God."

Father, I want to know Thee, but my coward heart fears to give up its toys. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and I do not try to hide from Thee the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but I do come. Please root from my heart all those things which I have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. Then shalt Thou make the place of Thy feet glorious. Then shall my heart have no need of the sun to shine in it, for Thyself wilt be the light of it, and there shall be no night there. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

I am a regular reader of Regent College Professor John Stackhouse's blog, and he just put a up the first of a three-part series on an (apparently) wildly popular novel, The Shack. The first post essentially just asks whether or not fiction can qualify as art and still carry an ideological message. (Honestly, that seems like a non-question to me. Some of history's best literature [read: the Russians] is loaded with ideology, or at least, applied philosophy.)

But at the end of the post, Stackhouse has this:

"Now, when does fiction become propaganda?

"First answer: when it propounds an ideology I don’t like.

"Second, better(!), answer: When the fictive art is compromised for the sake of the ideological message. When dialogue becomes stilted, when characters become inconsistent, when events become implausible, when a deus ex machina saves the day—in sum, when 'what would happen' is sacrificed to 'what should happen.'"

What gets me is that the second answer almost seems to write off huge chunk of popular "art" consumed today as propaganda that presumably just reinforces the status quo. For example, after watching the movie Becoming Jane, I was somewhat elated because it doesn't have a particularly happy ending. Not that it was the greatest movie ever, but it just had the gall to actually end something realistically rather than having a deus ex machina Mr. Darcy step in to create the perfect ending (truth be told, though, I did like Pride and Prejudice).

So is his condition right, even if it precludes such a huge proportion of popular art? Or am I misunderstanding him?

Before begining this, a couple observations from today.
a) the neighborhood kids are shooting each other with semi-automatic airguns. So the sounds outside are "warzone lite."
b) it will be wonderful when the weather decides it's okay for it to be summer. Rain precludes half of my day job.
c) being able to ride your bike to work is wonderful, and you begin to notice things you didn't previously, like the habits of drivers, daily traffic patterns, and traffic lights.
d) building on that, I spaced out at work for a second this morning and noticed a traffic light outside the window. The life of traffic lights would make wonderful subject matter for short stories, poetry, etc. I don't feel equipped to tackle that just yet.

Anyway, it is quite hard not to engage in a massive session of the rolling of the eyes after reading this article in the New York Times about how the current tanking of the economy is affecting New York's marginally wealthy. I almost scoff at classifying someone as "marginally" wealthy, but maybe I should be a bit more generous with my sympathies for people whose net worth has declined from $8 million to $2 million in the last few months.

Nah.

I mean, it's got to be hard to take a hit like that, especially in relative circumstances. But when the reaction is to maintain appearances above all else, I have a very difficult time being overly sympathetic. Sometimes you have to take a hit and live with it. Shucks, I guess that means "stretching their $350 highlights and $150 haircuts to every eight weeks instead of six weeks." For real? Do people really think that this is scrimping it?

There's more to life than status symbols, right? I have to give credit to this article for pointing out the refining effects of economic hard times:

"The drop in wealth has also exposed other personal problems, like bad marriages. Money — which bought jewelry or extravagant vacations — helped smooth over many of these difficulties, said Kenneth Mueller, a psychotherapist in the East Village."

Okay, now putting aside all the self-righteous outrage that I've indulged in, this has brought up an interesting thought. Given my interest in the economic and social redistribution of capital, what are the ethics of taking advantage of status symbols to give jobs to people who really need them? Clothing is probably the easiest example. What if you created a business that produces super-expensive clothing that is wholly impractical except for the single-use it is purchased for. In other words, the product contributes to and perpetuates a culture of waste and an absurd sort of consumerism. But what if you put a number of people to work with a living wage to produce it? Does this make it right? In a capitalist economy where "need" (marketing lingo for "demand") exists, I suppose the answer is yes.

Last night Greg and I discussed the readings we have mentioned above with a discussion group that meets at the Elk weekly. If you are interested in joining, contact us. Here is a blank verse from the Gutierrez reading (much in the spirit of Peter Maurin's Easy Essays):

The Latin American Poor
seek to alleviate their misery,
not ameliorate it;
hence they choose
social revolution rather than reform,
liberation rather than development
and
socialism rather than liberalization.

This comes right after the author (McAfee Brown) discusses the etymology of "radical," which comes from the word "radix," meaning root. So radical change means an uprooting of those structures which cause poverty (in this case). This is then juxtaposed with Luke 1:52-53 (from Mary's Magnificat):

he has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
but has sent the rich away empty.

Cheeky, eh?

The New York Times has a great article on gentrification in Portland and how it clashes with the city' self-perceived progressivism. I won't define gentrification at length here except to say that it's the development of inner city neighborhoods where housing prices rise and long-term, (often) minority residents are pushed out of those neighborhoods. It's generally the younger people and artist types who are the forefront of this change. Spokane is experiencing gentrification in the downtown core, and when Kendall Yards opens up, West Central will probably experience it as well.

Gentrification's not inherently an evil thing; it can be good for people who can benefit from increased property values, but often it is allowed to happen without any sort of mitigation of its effects on long-term residents of neighborhoods. It's fundamentally a process of the free market, so of course anybody's interference in that process generates cries of protest. But there is a moral issue at stake here. Is it right, for example, to allow the free market to displace somebody who has lived in their house for decades because they can no longer afford to pay property taxes? It's difficult to generalize successfully, but this is a not-so-hypothetical situation.

But at risk of sounding like I can legitimately occupy some sort of high horse, there's an ugly side to even altruistic desires to participate in the prevention of gentrification. At Whitworth, the sociology capstone class, Making Change, did a research project and presentation on gentrification in West Central. I asked the question, "as someone who wants to participate in community development in a manner that involves being present in areas lacking social capital, how do you do this without inadvertently becoming a function of gentrification?" They didn't really have answer, largely because it's difficult to give one, which I expected. If I move to West Central with my middle class values of thrift and hard work, my $30,000/year university education, and extensive social networks, I will probably be more successful than most of my neighbors. How do I intentionally spread out my resources to them? How do I keep my own success from being something that potentially pushes them out?

For example, what if friends think it's a good idea and follow? What about the current cultural values that see moving into an old neighborhood and beat-up house as hip? What about all my artist friends who could find cheap studio and practice space in those neighborhoods?

Would it just be better for me to live in a more removed or mixed neighborhood and approach community development differently? So many questions, so few answers.

Posting hasn't been working for me lately, so this post and the next were written May 30th and 31st, respectively.

Friday, I sort of began my summer internship with Spokane's Center for Justice, where I'll be spending time as an advocate as part of their Community Advocacy program. It seems this will involve a lot of listening to people and figuring out exactly what they are dealing with so that they can have a humanizing experience of justice. I am finding the philosophy of the center to be a new vocabulary and articulation of ideas I already have come to love.

Anyway, I attended a Continuing Legal Education session at Gonzaga's Law School. The speaker on criminal law was a seasoned local attorney named John Clark. He noted that the number one crime in Spokane is Driving With License Suspended to the 3rd Degree (he said that 50% of the people sitting in the jail were there for this offense). But the interesting part of this statistic was in his contrasting it with the second-most frequent crime in Spokane: Driving Under the Influence. Clark pointed out that he has never once was represented a doctor or lawyer in a DWLS, while the same is not true of DUIs, which affects people across economic strata. His evaluation of this was to call it, "oppression of the poor."

Interesting. The basic reason somebody gets a 3rd degree DWLS is that they have tickets of some sort that they have neglected to pay off. The solution to it is maddeningly simple; it basically requires setting up a payment plan to pay off the tickets and then following through on the payments, but many people don't realize this and try to pay it off with a payday loan (which is a terrible idea). This creates a cycle of debt that easily envelopes a person who isn't all that informed financially.

But Clark's statement raises a question. If the law were previously worded in such a way that doesn't create this backlog of unpaid tickets (as he also said), is it fundamentally an unjust law? How does one go about getting it changed? How are we as citizens responsible to see that happen?

Anyway, I'll leave that there. The house is quiet tonight as we get ready for Brent's wedding this afternoon. We played a good game yesterday of ultimate frisbee that scratched my arm up real good. Gato's kittens are starting to walk a lot, but they're sleeping right now. Gato's out here with a look on her face that says she needs a break from the kids. How do you babysit for a cat?

This is my first blog entry... EVER! xsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssI

The scattered letters above were written by the Knox House cat: Gato Del Mar. Even Gato blogs! This house is AWESOME.

We have 3 little gatitos too! They have big eyes and very high pitched soft voices.

The title of this entry is a quote from our very own Greg Hess. Just about everything he says is hilarious. He's got that funny, thoughtful, super chillness to him that makes it like living with Mitch Hedberg.

On a more serious note - I've been trying to get to know the neighbors. Playing Urban Frolf helps (except when I hit someone's car in which case I start sprinting away). I've had several conversations with Dawn down the street. D* is the mother of T* who pressed charges against the refugee P* for child luring. I didn't think she would want to talk to anyone from our house after that experience, but she has opened up conversation for us. I pray that God make us agents of His reconciling work in this situation.

But back to not-serious things. Today there was a sweet foosball game. Kyle and I played against Zach and visitor John. Zach and John were up 9-4. Kyle and I fought hard and managed to score 5 points in a row to make it 9-9. After a long and intense point, Zach's left defender scored an amazing goal to win the game. It was huge.

Well after talking about kittens, neighbors, and foosball I think I can say my first blog entry is finished!
I hope all is well. Please come by and visit if you get the chance!
Ozzie

an almost comically absurd article on "emos". It baffles me to some extent that some people find this so threatening. Of course there are going to be extremes in various trends, but to write it all off as all being suicide-obsessed and masochistic is overkill. Not that I'm an apologetic for it, either, I have little to no love for the music associated with it, but I remember high school, too. I was "hardcore" back in those days, so I was automatically supposed to dislike and make fun of "emos." Rather stupid, but it was one way to find solidarity in the midst of that period of insecurity, just as many "emos" do in a similar way.

But anyway, on to the article that really caught my eye: Nature loss 'to hurt global poor'. It notes that biodiversity and the natural resources of the world are intrinsically related to the wellbeing of the poor. Some of the bigger problems include deforestation (largest contributor to a statistic of 7% loss to global GDP by 2050), reef destruction (1/3 of all are damaged), species loss (up to 150 per day), and wetlands shrinkage (50% over the last 100 years). I pulled a statistic from this article as well. Oh yes, and the Arctic seems to be falling apart, too.

THIS SHOULD WORRY US.

Maybe not in the sense that it makes you unable to sleep at night; given that last week's sermon was on the Matthew 6 passage that emphasizes again and again not to worry, it would be horrible of me to encourage this. But at the same time, these statistics should cause us to question if we in any way contribute to this. Chances are that we at least indirectly do.

Of course, the jury's out on what the best solution is. I would argue there is no single best solution that is feasible for everyone, but the place to start is understanding combined with some sort of immediate reaction. Repentance, if you will. Prayer, too. Prayer for guidance and the willingness to change as it is revealed how that has to happen.

I doubt anyone wants to look back on life 40 years from now and realize they were partially responsible for the tragedy of the commons becoming the tragedy of global demise. Of course this sounds alarmist, but somehow I think it should be. It's difficult enough to feel related in some way for the wellbeing of people on another continent. At the same time, simple living itself might only be a passive response. Changing systems of global resource distribution entails active participation in the reform of those structures. How do we do that? This is the question to ask.

If you need inspiration that the environment is worth saving, read Genesis 1-3, or watch Planet Earth.

I finally picked up last week's Inlander issue, whose front page story is on local music. It examines six local artists concurrently with step-by-step suggestions on how to record and distribute your music. Interesting stuff, and quite helpful.

There was a bit in their discussion of "The New Distribution" that slightly irked me, though: "...think about chopping your recordings up. Do singles. Release EPs that coincide with specific tours. People like the feeling of exclusivity. Four tracks they can only get at this show during this trip through town is better for them than 10 tracks they can buy on iTunes."

I really don't care for the idea of abandoning the institution that is the album (roughly meaning a grouping of music that exceeds eight songs or runs longer than 20 minutes). Granted, this may make great business sense, but I would really lament the passing of such a group of art. Increasingly, my listening preferences have veered from a preference for individual songs to an increased appreciation for full albums. So when I got The Blamed's "Germany" EP in the mail and listened to it a bunch, I find it just a bit dissatisfying because it ends so soon. Seven songs don't give the ideas the band explores sufficient time to be fully fleshed out. Not to completely decry smaller samplings of music: in this specific example, this EP showcases a surprising development in the development of the band's sound. Likewise, you might make exceptions for the host of post-rock and instrumental bands that throw together several seven minute long songs and call it an album.

Call me a Luddite, but I love sitting down for an extended chunk of time to listen to a congruous body of music.

Some other observations from this article. They jump right on board the bandwagon calling for and predicting the demise of the large record labels and music distribution systems as we know them. They're probably right. However, I don't know if the complete demise of record labels is really something to anticipate so soon. There's still something to be said for similar economies of scale mentioned in the article; record labels can consolidate production and distribution of merchandise as well as booking needs. Also, the profile of Dane Ueland gives a lot of credit to the Whitworth scene for the music it is producing. The recognition made me glad.

I realize this whole post has little or nothing to do with the basic point of the Knox House, but we live in Spokane so I feel justified in weighing in on the subject.

Greg is currently putting in the hours to make this a functioning website. I basically just sit here and look pretty and harangue him every once in a while to find out what's going on. The last post is actually about a week old; it's the only one we saved from the last version of this site. Once we have the quirks worked out of the basic structures, we'll pack this full of some good content.

The kittens are walking, and the runt is definitely the one that's going to get herself in trouble exploring. Also, we'll have an Eritrean refugee joining us tonight for the next two or three weeks.

In the meantime, I've discovered some of Peter Maurin's Easy Essays. Here is one for everyone's enjoyment and thought:

A Radical Change

The order of the day is to talk about the social order. Conservatives would like to keep it from changing but they don't know how. Liberals try to patch it and call it a New Deal. Socialists want a change, but a gradual change. Communists want a change, an immediate change, but a Socialist change. Communists in Russia do not build Communism, they build Socialism. Communists want to pass from capitalism to Socialism and from Socialism to Communism. I want a change, and a radical change. I want a change from an acquisitive society to a functional society, from a society of go-getters to a society of go-givers.

Hello, I'm Kyle. I moved in yesterday.

This article in The New Yorker on the business of bible publishing brings up a variety of questions concerning the bible's purpose. Do what extent ought we "package" revelation? Of course, you could say that revelation is inevitably packaged somehow, be it in language or even a context. Actually, now that I think about it, I sound like some sort of modernist, assuming that something can be read completely objectively and such. Pish. But what about when the primary focus of packaging is not to contextualize the revelation, but to make yet another dollar from a target group? You could argue that marketing isn't a malicious attempt to seduce Americans already addicted to consumerism, but rather represents humans using their minds to spread a message in as efficient and effective a way as possible.

However, an ethical question: is it right to include advertisements for the other products of a publishing house in its bibles? That just doesn't sit right.

The article talks about cover design; just the other day I mentioned to a professor of mine who is writing a textbook on revolutions that the cover design is key to establishing a good impression of the content inside. The more I think about that, the more shallow I feel.

Here's a rather biting quote:

"The success of these accessible, culturally relevant Bibles alerted publishers to a new world of possibility. They introduced women's Bibles in pastel colors, recruited celebrity pastors to write exegeses, and made room for breezy spiritual pep talks alongside, or instead of, the scholarly commentary." [emphasis mine]

A question: if "It is estimated that there have been more than five hundred English translations of the Bible," how many translations are there for other languages? And at what point is it just plain wasteful to keep on spending time translating into a language with five hundred translations?

I remember being told a story the son of someone who was friends with a man on the committee that made translation decisions for the NIV. Apparently whenever there was a disagreement over a translation that could not be resolved, the marketing person on the committee got the final word. I wouldn't say I find that particularly reassuring.

Another quote, this one about a New Testament for teenage girls called "Revolve":

"Have you ever had a white stain appear underneath the arms of your favorite dark blouse? Don’t freak out. You can quickly give deodorant spots the boot. Just grab a spare toothbrush, dampen with a little water and liquid soap, and gently scrub until the stain fades away. As you wash away the stain, praise God for cleansing us from all the wrong things we have done. (1 John 1:9)"

The more I read of this article, the more I am torn between despair and the hilarity of it all. But perhaps taking it with humor and a grain of salt are the best way to react in this position. Still, there's something to be said for taking holy scripture seriously and assigning it some sort of legitimate respect. Muslims won't touch the Quran before a special washing of the hands. I remember my dad picked one up in class when we lived in Saudi Arabia and a student started getting agitated because he hadn't washed his hands properly. This wasn't out of anger or offense, but concern for my father's soul (this is apparently a matter of great import to God). I say this not to poke fun of anyone, but to note the respect with which Muslims treat their own holy book. Perhaps we ought to take a lesson.

Reading about all these rather ridiculous aspects of popular Christianity drives me to simplify. Give me a bible and some friends, and let us study together.