Men of God

Harassment Architecture – Mike Ma – a review

A collection of thoughts, dreams, ideas and philosophies that barely adhere to a coherent progression. But that is not a negative. Part of the draw of this short book is the thrill of deciphering these fragmented sections.

Without having or needing a narrative, it is an engaging and obsessive read, partly in thanks to the occasionally bleak and breathtaking writing, and partly due to the intoxicating auto-dialogue.
This book can be read as one long and branching fever dream, that occasionally crests with shocking stark and cutting insights, and before you realize, its resumed its feverish creations.

The author repeatedly declares to not be taking himself seriously, while also taking himself very seriously. This leaves it up to you to decide the truthfulness of this statement. He obsesses over a fear of being perceived as pretentious, while countered with a claim of not caring regardless. This frustration me at times. I enjoying his radical perversions, but tired of his consistent double back and pussying out of his own fantasies. At times you want to scream “Do it ######”.

I’m not sure if the author really believes his writing to be shocking, or he intended to remove all shock value by over-saturating us with shock for the sake of shock. Maybe my bias and expectations coming to this book robbed me of my opportunity to find it shocking.

Perhaps the entire book is a long introduction to the very last passage. Perhaps the sometimes self-conscious narrative is wholely intentional and masterful. Perhaps he really is clumsily screaming into the void, daring someone to give him the push to Do It.

Regardless, it was an excellent read that deserves you’re own judgement.

God-bathed

“It is like a physical landscape at sunrise: it is not that you see the same things that you saw before and now find yourself seeing the sun as well. You see everything sun-bathed. Similarly it is not a case of seeing the same universe as other people and then seeing God over and above. For God is at the centre of the being of everything whatsoever. If we would see the universe aright, we must see it GOD-bathed.”

-Theology and Sanity, Frank Sheed

Above is a picture I took while hiking alone in the foothills. A couple of weeks ago I picked up and headed out late on a Sunday afternoon, fed up with the apathy of too long and lazy a weekend.

I drove past fields, a lake, cattle, towns, a casino, camps, parks, people. I drove off the road and onto the track and I drove until there was no more driving. Then I walked. First I started fitness trackers. Can’t let a workout go to waste. Then I started headphones. Jam in a podcast or audiobook to make use of the time.

I was jittery from the transition from sound to no sound. That jittery feeling is uncomfortable. When we feel uncomfortable we seek comfort. When we seek comfort we seek the familiar. And what is familiar? For me that covering of reassurance is media. Reach for your phone, scroll on Instagram, consume new media, feel a new feeling. Fight the discomfort at all cost.

This distraction is blinding us from God. The force that holds everything. We exist at all times and every moment in suspended animation, tied together by the force that is Him. “Through Him, with Him and in Him.” The grass underfoot, the breeze on your face, the air on your skin, the clouds spreading, the car, the road the town the sun. We give ourselves to God when we submit with abandon to what is.

We see everything as sun-bathed. But it is not God-bathed. It is God.

VECTOR – SAMUEL WHITTEMORE – a review

On the surface this book presents itself as a metropolitan crime thriller, following a jaded and cliche police officer in his lone pursuit of a crime-lead that no one else will believe. What unfolds is an engaging narrative that follows this officer and his reconciliation with an old case and an old associate across a quickly and disastrously crumbling modern landscape.

Set in a political climate that speaks closely to our present age, the story develops into a dystopian version of what could terrifyingly and convincingly be our reality. Starting as a gritty, urban parable the story develops into what could be a prequel for post-apocalyptic classics such as The Road.

The author describes classic and relatable characters who build with the story as they find themselves intrinsically linked to this meta-apocalyptic climax. I really grew to admire and appreciate the different characters and was drawn into the conflict between the protagonist and antagonist, that leaves us to decide for ourselves at times who is filling which role.

Fast and engaging read, highly recommended and looking forward to a sequel.

5/5

IN DEFENSE OF HATRED – a review

In Defense of Hatred by C.B. Robertson

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

An honest and compelling argument that makes an essential point about social and culture discourse in our present climate. Hatred is not the antithesis of love, but a vital and required component.

The author describes hate as “an expression of love” and cautions of the dangers of a culture that stigmatizes or removes justified hatred, as one that approaches social nihilism and hopelessness.

Well written and rich with examples from classical and contemporary literature paints an elegant picture of the presented argument and makes for a fast and enjoyable read. Highly recommended.

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“Tripping. Over. Myself.” A Poem by Tyler Blackburn

Tripping. Over. Myself.

My breath turns ghost white. I rise to my feet while my stomach falls, with the completion of an action unspeakable by nature but screaming in my mind. My jittery walk begins and my shadow embraces its surrounding kin. I hear the clamor of my footsteps running from me as if they too feared my solemn hour. I don’t blame them. As my setting continues to steal all the light around me, it is no wonder why little life seeks to be truly conscious in the night until the dawn breaks. What were previously familiar figures, now prey on my light that flees them. All seem to have taken in that mockery of light hanging above, there to only to pervert the sun. Now I ponder, what the…

…hell is going on here.

Unapologetic, I fully embrace this. I shrug off God’s light like wiping dust off my shoulder. My walk continues, feeling more lives as significant as grass, suffocate and shatter beneath my boots, almost like stomping on a mirror of my reflection. The shards of others I broke fly now cutting through my feet. My hands slam to the ground joining the carnage of consequences. As now my crawl begins, my hands feel for a luminous path.

“A Tragic Comedy of Nature,” A Poem by Tyler Blackburn

A Tragic Comedy of Nature

Some ask, what is the phenomenon of rain? It is a bombardment of water on bleak dirt. It washes what was once contaminated and continues on to cleanse the earth. The filth then foiled, froths into puddles gathering greatly to devise its return. For a moment the earth is now stainless, because of this great revolt of nature.

Though, as complacent time passes the grime later gains momentum, as the strength of the rain has left. The dirt overtakes the earth until clouds gather enough might to restore order. All of this, a keen observer takes in, learning this age-old natural law. It is almost like a pendulum swinging back and forth between the dominance of these two forces.

But what it truly is, is a war of balance. This, of which, is mimicked and mocked by man. The keen spectator notices this, floating above and looking down at his history book and finds it comical watching the pendulum swing back and forth from good and evil, as people never seem to truly learn.

7 deadly sins, staining man and are combated with crimson rain, push the pendulum’s motion. A war trading lives for oil. This only washed away by the obliteration of a nation once sought to take from; this bestows a jagged pain in his side as chuckles leave the onlooker’s lips. Then veiled imperialism by taking over countries for the sake of freeing them, as they say, with puppet leaders. Only then, to be defeated by public outcry; he laughs till he cries. Finally, a nation that harbored and killed Christ being destroyed after immense moral decay, he cannot laugh anymore since all his laughter took his breath away.

He then closes his book, presses it against his heart, and holds it in his mind as he steps outside for the pages filling his book to come. Seeing his institutions destroyed, religion poisoned, and freedoms turned to slavery he roars with a burst of unholy laughter.

“He is crazy and must be silenced” an elite adds not being able to get the words out of his mouth quick enough, as a bead of sweat bleeds down his back and to the ground, cleansing all the dirt it touches.

Tyler K Blackburn