 June 2, 2006 I just read an article about Fred Phelps, the "God Hates Fags" pastor, and his picketing of military funerals. The article touched briefly on his Calvinistic belief in predestination to Hell, and on his peculiar fondness for preaching that God really does hate those poor creatures who apparently have not been given a chance to attain redemption in the first place. With such an emphasis being put on the whimsies of a heartless God, and a corresponding emphasis on the powerlessness of degenerate men, it seems somewhat redundant to proclaim to those supposedly hated by God that they are hell bound. I mean, what's the point? Isn't preaching oriented toward helping people repent? In any event, Fred Phelps is an astonishing asshole and above all an obvious (and skillful) whore for media attention. You can read a fair amount of disturbing literature about him in the "Bizarre Men" section of my Favorite Things Page. To atone for having sullied this diary with the name of Phelps I have graced it with the beautiful woodcut up above. Aww... isn't that nice? In seriousness, it is a beautiful visual depiction of the desire man has to pass beyond the immediate world into a transcendant realm. How it is that we do this is a question that cannot be answered simply. Even if one were to say, "We pass over into the transcendant realm through Jesus" there still remain endless questions. In what way do we meet Jesus, how do we attain true knowledge of him, how do we live in accordance with his will? Moreover, what, out of the thousands that exist, is the one true Church which represents him on earth? As you probably may know, I have cast my ballot for Catholicism, thinking God competent enough to establish as large and international an operation as the Roman Catholic Church (rather than setting up shop with a few dozen bigots in Kansas-- I am referring to Phelps's "Church", of course). I have also dared to believe that although the road to perfection is certainly a narrow one, and not easily taken by men, it is still in the essential nature of God to be merciful and patient. However many eons of earthly or purgatorial life it may take, let us trust that God will do his best to track down and lead back to the road of salvation even the most strayed and desperate sheep of his flock. I hope my readers, whoever they are, don't mind my getting up on a pulpit, so to speak, when I do my diary. It is said that one of the possible benefits of preaching is that a preacher might be converted by his own words. I usually don't find myself that inspirational, but I hope some folks out there get some benefit from my take on things. Keep me in your prayers. My own favorite preacher is the gay Catholic theologian, James Alison. His sermons have the astounding quality of never leaving one bored. What is even more astounding is that they persuade one that the gospel, the good news, is actually good. Go figure. Anyhow, I was blessed enough to be reconciled the other day with two friends whom I hadn't been talking to. (You can refer to last month's diaries, I think, to learn about my little falling out with some friends). On the other hand, last night, when I was getting drunk at a birthday celebration, I had the amazing good sense to start playing with a fire poker as we all sat around a bonfire. At first only burning my own sweet self, I ended up intentionally poking a friend.He was subsequently less than enthusiastic about what I had done. Drunk himself, he would not stop spouting off at me and eventually he started demanding that we fight. We did end up fighting, with no punches to the face, though. It was pretty dumb. I guess that is what I get for watching too much Wild Boyz episodes lately (a show made by guys from Jackass). Playful sadomasochism can quickly turn volatile among the heavily drunk. And perhaps that is the greatest lesson I can teach you all at this moment. Hasta luego. June 11, 2006 Whoa... sorry I've been so negligent about writing in my diary. Plenty of things have happened, of course. I just haven't written them down. Suffice it to say that I am still an anguished little Southern California queer boy. Um, no great tragedies within the confines of my own life to report. I was merely pissed off that the pharmacy people talked my doctor out of prescribing me Ritalin because it would have caused a 'toxic' reaction with another med I'm on. This is really annoying, as I've been on this type of med combination before, just with a better informed doctor- one who knew the literature better as well as how to keep the pharmacists at bay. Anyway, a friend of mine, Chris, apparently overdosed on his own medication and wound up in the hospital. I'm afraid his toxic reaction may have been intended. I'm not sure, though, as I haven't spoken to him. He is a wonderful guy who happens to a have some difficult problems. Please pray for Chris. I'll end it with that. June 13, 2006 Gee folks, its been nothing but tireless work attempting to bring you a bigger and better website. Maybe in a month or two we'll have something pretty darn nice. Giving coherence to the growing sprawl remains possibly the biggest challenge for me. It all just goes with the life of a dedicated net-head, I guess. I quite enjoy my site, really. Considering that the average home price in the county in which I live is over half a million dollars, my "sprawling" website may be the most substantial piece of real estate I may ever own. What else is new? My niece and nephew got new and larger beds to sleep in. I took one of their new beds and stuck it in my room to be used by my cat, Carmel. Yes. I am crazy enough to provide my cat with an actual bed, just for himself. A lot of people don't like cats. I think it is obvious where I stand on that issue. Sadly, our other cat, Mamba, has been extremely lethargic lately and isn't even drinking water. We'll probably take the poor little thing to the vet tomorrow. I hope she'll be OK. I think I'll close by quoting a doo wop song I really love: "Life is but a dream. It's what you make of it. Always try to give. Don't ever take from it. Life can be music. Life can be songs of Love. Whoa oh oh oh..." Goodnight, my sweet, sad world. Hasta Manana (by the way, I think Chris is doing better) June 14, 2006 How bout a simple run down of my day: 1. Woke up in the early morn. Took a tranquilizer and went back to bed. 2. Woke up again. Took antidepressants (now at increased dosage), breakfasted on Shredded Wheat, drank a Dr. Pepper. 3. As I waited for the combined antidepressant/caffeine boost to set in, I cruised the net looking for material for my site. 4. When I started feeling pepped up I began reading "The Glory of the Lord vol. 1" by Hans Urs von Balthasar. It is a very difficult but fascinating exploration of Christian thought with Beauty as the key concept 5. Went with mom to take Mamba, our cat, to the vet. We left her there, where she was given water, nutrients and antibiotics via an IV. 6. Ate some hot dogs I made in the broiler. Tried to do more reading, but ended up going to In and Out around 3:00 with my good buddy Paul 7. Afterwards, Paul and I went to hang out at the video store. Paul left after a while. So did J.R., to see a classic movie at a theater in downtown L.A.. I hung around with Chris Page for a couple hours. Business was slow, as is usual for Wednesdays. I must say that Chris Page (not to be confused with my other Chris boys- Chris Seo and Chris Hanley) is a very easy going, smart, and above all, nice guy. His mom dropped by and left him something to eat. I was really impressed by the sincerity and graciousness with which he thanked her. 8. Left the store around 6:15, wanting to get more reading done. Instead, I ended up sword fighting with my niece and nephew, trying to impart to these novices the rudimentary skills I have in using bamboo kendo swords.(sounds cool, huh?) 9. Drank more soda in hopes of waking myself from drowsiness and continuing with the Balthasar. I did make it through a chapter, but not without the company of an aggravating headache. 10. I was phoned by a friend who wanted me to use my computer to see (via a government website) whether, and given that, why another friend is in jail. Forgery it turns out. 20,000 dollars bail! Do you understand why I am mentioning no names? 11. I have taken my pre-bedtime meds and am writing this journal. 12. Goodnight. Say a prayer for our friend in jail. Guilty or innocent, its a miserable place to be, no doubt. June 15,2006 Today was simply awful. Depression, headaches, desperate frustration and anger. Fantasies of suicide (can't leave that out). On the bright side, I'm taking this really nice girl I know hiking tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be able to pull myself together so at least she can have a good time. I think it goes without saying that I'd like you all to pray for me. Catholic I am, but saintly, patient bearer of suffering I am not.
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