Edge of my seat

The nightmare after christmas

Most of the gifts I receive every Christmas are usually pleasant surprises - usually. This year's gifts were strangely amusing. They were what people thought I wanted or needed. I thought it all very strange and, of course, amusing.

Thank you, to whom it may concern, for the amusement.

In the name of Allah

This hullabaloo about a local Catholic weekly newspaper being asked politely to remove its entire Bahasa Malaysia section because it used the word "Allah" (the word is said to belong exclusively to Muslims) is ridiculous. To add insult to injury, this was only deemed an issue with Christmas so close. I don't know what the paper's response has been, but I hope against hope that they don't capitulate. Better not to yield and lose the paper entirely than to yield and lose precious integrity. It's just so easy to rationalize. It just isn't that important. Just a word. Just one section. Just one less freedom. Just. The Jews were able to rationalize remarkably as events in Europe inexorably culminated in the Final Solution. It's time to draw the line.

Tis the season for whatnot

Of course TeenStreet wasn't as horrible as I made it out to be.

I may have cringed at TeenStreet, but I'm positive I'd have pulled out my hair and gnashed my teeth at the recent FGA Youth Camp. Thank God I wasn't there. Keep in mind this is just me. My opinion about a camp I've never been to is based on what I've heard and read. Obviously, this is rather absurd because since when did people base opinions on what they've heard and read?

Louie Giglio's video was screened at the camp, a sermon about how big and great God is. The Whirlpool Galaxy was offered as proof of this claim.









Next up was the protein laminin.













Then there was laminin in real life.









After such images were flashed, there were people who were touched by how God was so awesome. They wept and rejoiced at how God could be omnipresent and omnipotent. God loved them. The crosses imprinted everywhere proved this again and again. God was real. Oh, and the video was fantastic.

I'm more than aware of the dangers of saying how easily people are emotionally manipula - dang, too late - anyway, FGA has a lot to answer for this wishy-washy rubbish being sold to those most likely to buy it. How is this gimmick with crosses any different from the Virgin Mary grilled cheese sandwich?













Or the "Allah" on a Burger King ice-cream lid?










This video incident at the camp, which many seem to consider powerful and so on, made me (for lack of a better word) angry. Foolishness masquerading as wisdom always does. I know just because those who have experienced something I haven't doesn't mean their experiences aren't real. This is true. Most of the time, though, it comes across as another way of saying my imagination is way more active than yours, in which case, good for you. I should focus on how wonderful life is, I know. I should be gushing about how people are so good and so nice and so unlike a flock of sheep. Especially during Christmas. I'm not sorry for not doing that.

Ten reasons to love 2007 (in descending order)

Well. This is just me and my music again. But these albums defined my year. It certainly wouldn't have been 2007 without them. If these albums are to be any indicator of the year-that-was, then, in general, it's been one dark, brooding year punctuated by brief flashes of pure joy.

And the nominees are...


10. The Shins - Wincing the Night Away











9. The Go! Team - Proof of Youth











8. Andrew Bird - Armchair Apocrypha











7. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank










6. I'm From Barcelona - Let Me Introduce My Friends











5. Muse - Black Holes and Revelations










4. Kevin Drew - Spirit If...










3. The National - Boxer











2. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga











1. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible

Smells like TeenStreet

TeenStreet is overrated.

At the walnut-sized core of TeenStreet lies the eternal truth that in order to change anything, we first must change. The only thing that varies from year to year is the icing on the cake: the lights, the show, the smoke and mirrors. Age-old wisdom is regurgitated and repackaged for a generation with an average attention span of three minutes. Cue the rock band, funny speaker, and exciting program, which is precisely what captivates TeenStreet's participants.

It's hopelessly shallow.

One can argue that this is simply leveling with teenagers. Gotta speak their lingo, you know, bro? One can also argue that this is dumbing down. This is pandering to the lowest common denominator, a strategy that will ultimately backfire as superficiality replaces depth.

An artificial high was achieved through an exuberant worship service and mesmerizing light show. People broke down. Raised their hands. Repented. The typical teenager experienced what many experience at rock concerts - only he called it experiencing God.

During the camp's sessions, a tag-team of six speakers took turns talking about the story of Nehemiah. There was a brief Bible passage a day reinforced with games and videos. Throw in a touching testimony here and there. Shed a tear or two. Rephrase its simple message a dozen different ways. Just make sure it isn't boring. Wash, rinse, repeat. Many found these sessions to be profoundly refreshing.

A character dressed in a yellow raincoat led us all in memorizing a Bible verse a day. He even had his own theme music. The crowd loved him. He'd draw a name from a box of names. Go on, recite the verse. Good boy. Take this CD and t-shirt as a prize for being a good Christian. Many memorized the verses.

After a long day at camp, there was the Interaction Zone. Head to the cafe, buy food and drinks. Crank up the music. Hang out and chill with friends old and new. It set the scene for great times. Most importantly, it was fun.

Oh, sure.

Good intentions, of course. But TeenStreet is a horribly sickening appeal to teenagers. Teenagers are fickle, insecure, slaves to their emotions. TeenStreet pushes all these buttons to spectacular effect. God loves you, God loves you, God loves you - do you feel good now? And when you feel something, that must be God speaking to you. Write down what God is saying to you for, you know, posterity. Belief is far more important than what we believe. All else is sacrificed at the alter of experience and emotions.

It's really infuriating to know that everyone's raving about how awesome TeenStreet was and is and always will be. How they experienced God in a very personal way. How their lives are going to be contagious. How it was great fun. How they're definitely going next year, yeah! It was an emotional farewell. People hugged and cried. Nobody wanted to go home.

And yet, I just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

Is it there something wrong with me... or with everyone else?

This was my third TeenStreet. The first time, I thought it was fantastic. The second time wasn't that fantastic. The third time, I didn't want to go and I couldn't quite put my finger on the reason why. I went anyway. Old habits die hard, I suppose. There was a time when I'd urge anyone and everyone to go to TeenStreet. Never again. It's probably because I'm a little older and, I hope, a little wiser. I've returned with many bad impressions which I happen to value as far as impressions go.

I'm convinced TeenStreet has the potential for more harm than good. It associates feelings with experiencing God, confuses worship with noise and, contrary to declarations that God is to be found in silence and stillness, does everything possible to prove otherwise. TeenStreet pumps the typical teenager up with air, supposedly renewing his passion for God. Then he goes back to his church and finds he cannot listen to the preacher anymore - he's just too boring. He fidgets during the sober worship service at his church because it isn't full of the Holy Spirit. He believes Teens Need Teens (also known as the blind leading the blind). Youths attend youth-only meetings. Adults attend adult-only meetings. Youths have to be cool. Adults have to be funny. When disaster strikes, all he has to do is ask and God will solve everything because God loves him so very, very much. When nothing happens, the typical teenager whines and demands to know where the heck God can be. When still nothing happens, God has deserted him. His faith shatters. The months go by. He looks forward to another round of TeenStreet where, he knows, God is waiting for him there.

This illustrates exactly how shallow TeenStreet is. It serves McDonald's and thinks it's what teenagers need. What happened to fine cuisine? It defines what experiencing God means - and it means lights, action, music, and most of all, feelings. TeenStreet forgets a baby cannot learn to talk if all it hears is the inarticulate cooing of smitten adults.

TeenStreet advocates may disagree. Strongly.

If so, I beg you to tell me why.

Absolutely necessary

Necessary? I'm absolutely not sure if it is. Teenstreet, I mean. And yet, here I go again...

Blowing in the wind

It's December already?

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Time is slipping by too fast. This really is an unwelcome reminder of one's mortality. I've decided to write less here. Only when absolutely necessary. And because time isn't kind to blog posts.

Here's to that which is golden. Here's to that which is brief.

Thrills! Laughs! Romance!

No, not really.

The title was a red herring. Perhaps the reason why Maxwell 2 was disappointing was that when fun is taken seriously, it isn't much fun at all. The burden to have thrills, laughs, and drama was just too heavy to bear. There were moments unpleasant, awkward, discomfiting - but it had its moments. I did have fun, although it was the tired, ironic sort of fun (it could be just me, though). The law of diminishing returns rings true yet again. We dragged ourselves up twelve kilometers of mountain only to discover what mattered more than the who was the why. Our why wasn't good enough. Consider this a lesson learned. And maybe, just maybe, I have no regrets whatsoever.

Pictures and video here.