Breath Control

Interesting article in the Tribune about bored teenagers. It turns out that youth culture isn't even working for the yout's. How could it with one price point?

Imagine if you loved McDonalds burgers. And wanted to eat them all the time. And imagine that they were the healthiest food you could eat and your body loved them. Now imagine they were the only thing available. And the only thing you could eat.

Your stomach didn't turn until the last one right? That's where we are culturally. You can only see a $9 a ticket movie. (Or worse/cheaper). You can only read a $14 book (or cheaper/worse--unless you buy mine). Is it any wonder we're starving as a people. The richest mo-fos on the planet ever. Every one a Bruce Lee of production and productivity. And can't one of them get a gee that fits.

The sermon at church today was about manna--the bread that god gave those wandering in the desert every morning to eat during their 40 year exodus. It didn't last overnight (except on Saturday), they had to eat it and trust that it would come again. (Oh ye of little faith).

The second teaching described the promised land in scrumptious detail. Which must have been a cause for great salvation for those used to eating only bread. The catch--they would have to set to work and help prepare the feast. No longer were they spiritual children--to be fed out of thin air. The bounty would be incalculable--but they would have to prepare it themselves (with the grace, mercy, helkp of god, of course).

Sound familiar? I know you punk rockers out there know what I'm talking about. But what if the truth wasn't dirty and corrupted and cheap. What if Pabst wasn't the highest form of human expression available? What if blue collar was a phase and not an aspiration?

What if your desires were holy?

What if by consuming fewer, more valuable goods that lasted longer and were less vulnerable to the ravages of fashion, we not only saved the planet, but got richer. Both spiritually and materially.

Anyway, that's boring to me like summer movies to a 14 year-old. My main concerns of the day are that Elana at Borders has a boyfriend (not that she was marriage material anyway, but I'm ready, willing and able to warm up, I promise you). Is it a secret that counter-culture girls/women are easy?

But I do like that it's becoming easier for me to just honker down and do the damn thing than it is to leave. I was already halfway to the door--Sunday morning at 10--but I don't even want to think about this s*&# anymore. Why not just do it and whatever? Isn't doing about thinking more valid than thinking about doing?

A dance about critics better than a critic about dance? (Although why, on god's green earth, having chosen and worked to dance, would you dance about critics?? Would you even look their stingy way once? Insist upon anything else? Parking spots. Weed choked lots. Flat tires on rainy days.

The bus is up and running. The studio is banging. The beats are flowing and I'm brushing up on my breathing (Elena was in the music section). Breath control.