March 1st, 2006

angry - books

in which tags revive my hate for S2

So, I was playing around with S2 since that seems to be necessary to display tagged entries in a sane fashion. First of all, it's bloody hard to find where you even go to to change to S2.

Second, I can't figure out a way to save a layout to play with but not actually apply it to my journal yet, the way you could with S1. This strikes me as a huge problem.

Third: the "History and Motivation" page says, "The four views (recent ("lastn"), friends, calendar, and day) all had to be created independently and couldn't share any code. So if you wanted to make a new style you had to do it four times. [...] S2 addresses all these problems." Honestly? I don't want all my views to be the same. I can deal with a layout like the "3 column" one for a main [recent/lastn] view, but for the flist view frexample it feels very cluttered. Plus of course I have lingering bitterness that the default is to force your S2 view on your comments pages. But the real problem is that I don't want it to force all the stuff I would like on the main view (header image, links column) onto the other views.
(hidden) wisdom

[Ash Wednesday]

The Feet Man
-for Leo Dangel
by Philip Dacey

The worst job I ever had was nailing
Jesus' feet to the cross on the
assembly line at the crucifix factory.
Jesus! I'd never thought of myself
as religious before that, but when
I had to strike those nails---I figured
it up once---more than two thousand times
a day, my mind began seeing things:
little tremors along the skin, jerks of
those legs that were bonier than
model's legs, his eyes imploring,
forgiving. I swear, if a tiny drop of blood
had oozed out of that wood at my pounding,
I wouldn't have been surprised at all.
I was ripe for a miracle, or a vacation,
All I got was worse: with each blow
of the hammer, I flinched, as if I
were the one getting pierced. Doing
that job day after day was bad enough,
but doing it to myself---my arms
spread out from one end of my paycheck
to the other---was crazy. I began
to sweat constantly, though the place
was air-conditioned. It wasn't long before
the foreman took me aside and told me
I was taking my job too seriously, that
if I wanted to keep it I had better calm down.
He was right. I pulled myself together
like a man and put all pointless thoughts
out of my head. Or tried to. It wasn't easy:
imagine Jesus after Jesus coming down
at you along the line, and you with
your hammer poised, you knowing
what you have to do to make a living.
from Sweet Jesus: Poems About the Ultimate Icon (ed. Nick Carbó and Denise Duhamel) p. 5-6.

The opening of this poem is just amazing. The break between the second and third lines especially. I was less moved by the middle, but the end wonderfully brings it back to what I had so loved at the beginning.
not for the meek

"You see, if there wasn't evil in every single one of them out there -- why, they wouldn't be people

They'd be angels." ("Reprise," Angel 2.15) And of course, even angels fall.

A friend posted today about how awful public school can be, and honestly my public school experience was pretty good, and I commented that college and "the real world" can be just as bad.  Because honestly, people can just be selfish, thoughtless, cruel, ignorant, so on and so forth. 

Because this came up in the context of Joy Sadhana and Lent and finding light in the darkness and focusing on God, I got to thinking: What does it say about your belief in God if you dismiss people as unworthy of existence? 

I say this because I tend to be all dismissive "people suck" but it was occurring to me that if I truly believe in an Omnipotent Omniscient Omnibenevolent Creator then if I dismiss people as dreadful I am saying that God failed.  I am also refusing to see(k) the divine in everyone.  I would hardly argue that people should remain in toxic relationships just to seek the divine spark (and lots of theologies maintain that not everyone will be Saved, or that people need multiple attempts at life to get it right, etc.), but it does give me pause to make sweeping statements about the world being a better place if assorted people ceased to exist.