Dave Grohl & Donald Trump

You're probably looking at that title and wondering, "Wat?" But it will all make sense in time. I'm also hoping this image of Mr. Grohl will subtly make your mind more malleable to my words.

After my third close reading of To Kill A Mockingbird in a course on American Literature last semester, I feel like I am fresh off the “objective understanding” boat. 

"if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view […] until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” -Atticus Finch (Harper Lee, Rest in Peace). 

In a story that witnesses the collision of innocence and the tragedy of racism, this line from Atticus is one of the novel's most canonical take-aways. 

And so, with proper form, I decided to (try to) climb into the skin of a Trump supporter. Recently, I have been engaged in an ongoing debate with a close friend of mine as to why Trump should or should not be president. This person believes he would be good for the country, and I do not. Fortunately (believe it or not), this individual is substantially informed and intelligent, so I am able to glean valid and concrete reasoning from the perspective of a pro-Trumper. This individual does not spew the typical “he says what he thinks” nonsense. They provide me with legitimate, rational reasons as to why he might improve America. 

But at this point, my disapproval of Trump is much more of a moral stance than a political one. Even if I came to accept his tactics as a nasty means to a positive end, I could not endorse his horrific rhetoric and hate-mongering. Not just because Jesus said so half a billion times, but because I innately know that it is wrong. So to really climb into the skin of a Trump supporter, I had to recast the part of Trump with a similar actor. It had to be somebody that I already liked, but operated in a similar way to Trump. 

At the time, I was wearing my Foo Fighters T-shirt, and realized that Dave Grohl was actually a solid candidate. Grohl was the grungy drummer for the iconic band, Nirvana, before he took his fame to new heights with his leading role in the Foo Fighters. He is, in my opinion, one of the last true rockstars standing. Before you laugh or cry, hear me out. I’m a big admirer of Dave. He’s a rebel, a success story, and an abrasive character with a rock n’ roll attitude. He says what he thinks, usually with zero filter. He’s a wealthy celebrity. He stands in front of massive crowds and performs to the sound of their wild cheering. When he told the 2012 Grammys audience to “learn their craft”, I got up off my couch and yelled, “Yes Lawd”. 

Being the fan of Dave that I am, I thought to myself, “What if Dave was running for president and stuck to his guns the way Trump does? Wouldn’t my emotional connection to his character make his actions more dismissible? Probably! If I actually liked Trump in similar way to how I like Dave, wouldn’t he be easier to forgive? 

John Mayer (don’t you dare roll your eyes) said some flat-out, condemnable, racist things in that Rolling Stone interview years back, but he still has my admiration and support (Note: he did regret those words with painful sincerity and has essentially spent the last half-decade recovering from his ego problem. Keep it up, Johnny). But is FANSHIP the problem here? Has Trump transcended the accountability threshold with his support, similar to how we pretend like Chris Brown never brutally assaulted his girlfriend (and still has a thriving career)?

This is where the comparison got ironic. Dave Grohl might be rough around the edges and profane. He might come from a music scene that would make a lot of Americans pee their pants in fright. He might be tough enough to shatter his leg after falling in the middle of a concert and then get up and finish the show. But he is the polar opposite of Donald Trump when it comes to responding to injustice. If you have not already watched this video (or something close to it), please do so HERE . It’s a quick summation of the violence happening at Trump’s rallies and the manner in which he encourages it.

Now here is footage of Dave Grohl responding to violence at one of his concerts. WARNING: His language is very explicit. I do not condone all those F-bombs. But I do condone what Dave did. 

You can be theatrical, profane, incredibly straight-forward, and still demand justice. You can be tough with integrity. You can be idolized by millions for your rebellious spirit and still use your influence to stop wrong-doings. You can STOP YOUR SHOW mid-song and call somebody out for their wrongdoing.

Trump has not done this at any point. He did not stop his show to disavow white supremacy, he did not stop his show to prevent or even discourage violence (quite the opposite), he did not pause his show to defend the very people he claims to be fighting for. 

And so, I cannot possibly climb into the skin of a Trump supporter because there is nobody on this earth like him that I admire. The skin is not there for me to climb into. There is no sort of parallel universe where I can feel justified in endorsing him. Even the most brutally honest rockstars are comically at odds with the hotbed of hateful bacteria that Trump is cultivating. 

Long live Rock and Roll, and may Trump’s stint on the stage be brief.

Love,
Ren 

'Cruz' Doesn't Always Translate to 'Cross'

First, read this excerpt from the gospel of Luke. It is only one example of Jesus encountering prostitutes in the Bible, but if you require further evidence I’ve listed more references to Scripture at the bottom. 

LUKE 7:36-50

36 When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 

37 A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. 

38 As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

39 When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”

40 Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[a] and the other fifty. 

42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

44 Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 

45 You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. 

46 You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 

47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

48 Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

49 The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

50 Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Textbook Jesus, amirite? He is taking everybody’s judgements and flipping them upside down to make a point about the power of forgiveness and redemption. 

Now glance at THIS ARTICLE regarding presidential candidate Ted Cruz, a self-professed evangelical Christian (A Christian is, ideally, somebody who models their life after the teachings and works of Christ, believing him to be the Son of God). 

I shouldn’t have to say much more than that. This post writes itself. 

John 7:53-8:11

John 4

Bed, Bath & Body Image

      This year has really exposed me to the immense power of body image (I warned you this blog would be all over the place). It has long been a popular issue in articles and posts on my newsfeed and such but I have admittedly rolled my eyes until this past year, where I’ve experienced its effects firsthand with several of my close friends, and perhaps more importantly began noticing its effects in myself. But that is a post for another day (The often-ignored notion that guys struggle with body image as well).

       The disturbing grip that culture has on women is all too familiar, but I believe its far more important than many of us write it off as. Time and time again, I make the ignorant mistake in assuming that girls see themselves the same way other people see them. I recognize beauty in a girl, and I assume she knows she’s beautiful. But the yardstick she is using has been bent and broken and twisted by years of pressure and excessive familiarity with her own appearance, and is consequently incapable of measuring properly. My fresh eyes are seeing a wonderfully intricate creation of God, but her eyes are seeing a one-day-older version of herself. How am I supposed to convince somebody that they are beautiful when they have been trained on a daily basis to believe there are people more beautiful than they are? Is it even my place to do so? 

       The truth is you will never be able to tell them, but you can show them. I believe that REAL love is a natural response to REAL beauty. When we are intentional about understanding others better, we begin catching glimpses of real beauty inside them and in response our love for them grows stronger. That’s how any relationship should look, whether it is romantic or platonic. Deeper understanding runs in tandem with deeper and more genuine love. Girls and guys alike deserve to become more aware of their own beauty by seeing it reflected in the genuine love poured on them by those intentionally invested in their lives. If this were happening on a grand scale, physical pressures and social expectations would dwindle in importance to the vastly superior power of the immeasurable beauty that God graced us with. 

       Tragically, our fascination with the immediate and the convenient leave us ill-trained to pursue any form of deeper understanding. The time we commit to others is often cheap, and as a result our love for them is cheap and insecure. I point at myself before I point at any of you. But my hope is that I can train my eyes to recognize real beauty in people before I recognize worldly beauty, in order that I might have a pure incentive to love them like Christ would. Maybe then, I'll be capable of bringing more light into a life than darkness (Forgive me). Until then, I can only learn. 

Life is freakin' hard, guys.  I'm glad I get to live it with all of you on my team, so to speak. 

Life is for Living

      I hope this first entry doesn't set the tone for future posts, as I intend to write all sorts of things here. I may write song lyrics, or I may humor you with painful psycho-babble. So try not to assume consistency, because I'm an inconveniently inconsistent person. I've already made the mistake of assuming that somebody will consistently read this blog. So I suppose the score is even. Alas, here we go:
       I have heard many a trendy white girl say, "Live in the moment". I've heard this said so often that I've come to interpret it for what the people saying it really mean; "Don't worry about the future, and don't dwell on the past." There is an ironic lack of any real notion that I "Live in the moment" when being told to do so. But considering that a 'moment' is an infinitesimal piece of moving time, I'll admit that absorbing every color and sound and smell that rushes by my boyish face is all too overwhelming to experience and then let go of in an instant. Our memories and dreams are crucial to the integrity of our individual and unique selves, and play irreplaceable parts in the stories we end up telling. All this for a disclaimer: I recognize the importance of past and future as a human being who is brutally in tune with both.
        However, I have began noticing a failure on my part to experience the world as it is regardless of where I am. This struck me most tangibly in Tahoe last week, where I felt a peculiar angst to enjoy my time there that nearly robbed me of my ability to do so. You see, this entire school year I have been pining for an escape to a place like Tahoe where I can melt into the wilderness and bask in the bliss of old friendships. But when I was finally blessed with the opportunity to escape, I panicked. I panicked because I was all too aware that my time there was counting down. Once the timer began, I couldn't think about anything else. And so I kicked my brain into high gear and stared at the lake as hard as I could, trying to 'enjoy' the moment; trying to absorb the things I had looked forward to so fervently, but to no avail.
       I was soon distracted by my brother, Forrest, and surrogate brother Ethan, as they tossed me a cold bottle of coke and sat down on the dock. The night unraveled with priceless conversation and competitive fun in the water. It dawned on me that living in the moment is not something you can do and simultaneously know you're doing. To live in the moment is to involuntarily create a memory that you can only remember later and be grateful for. Perhaps that is why dwelling on the past is so easy for us; it is an instinct to respect the times when we lived genuinely.