Martina McBride: O Holy Night

A cappella.  Do you shitkickers have any idea how many years of training, how much talent that requires?  It doesn't just happen on a whim.

Breathtaking.

Prince William Does the Pauper Thing

Prince William has spent a night sleeping on the streets, finding out what poverty and homelessness are like. 

A cold alley in central London is a far cry from a palace – but it was the spot Prince William chose to sleep to highlight the plight of homeless British teenagers.  He spent a chilly night near Blackfriars Bridge last week with Seyi Obakin, the chief executive of British homeless charity Centrepoint. William has been the charity's patron since 2005.

"I cannot, after one night, even begin to imagine what it must be like to sleep rough on London's streets night after night," William said Tuesday. "Poverty, mental illness, drug and alcohol dependency and family breakdown cause people to become and then stay homeless.  I hope that by deepening my understanding of the issue, I can help do my bit to help the most vulnerable on our streets."

William, second in line to the throne, was exposed to some of the hardships found on London's streets when his mother, Princess Diana, took him to a shelter in 1996. Just 13 at the time, William spent an hour at the facility with his younger brother, Harry.  Diana was well-known for her charitable work and the homeless was a group she was particularly close to. She had also served as Centrepoint's patron, a position she held at the time of her death in 1997.

Takes after his mother, he does.  He's a good-hearted kid, he'll make a good king one of these days.  If the monarchy lasts that long.  Both he and brother Harry are involved in a number of charities in Britain and overseas; check out their website for more details.

BTW, the boy looks good with a beard.  Woof.

Last-Minute Man Gifts

Okay, so you've bought and wrapped the goodies for everyone on your list - except that adorable hunk o' man you're so damn crazy about.  What to do, what to do?  He's soooo hard to buy for, he already has like, everything!

Not to worry.  Here comes your Head Trucker to the rescue with these sure-fire last-minute ideas, any one of which is bound to raise a smile on your man's face . . . and that's not all. 

Number 1 - There's not a man alive, old or young, city or country, who doesn't appreciate a warm, fuzzy wool shirt in the wintertime.  A red one.  If not wool, then flannel or corduroy will do just fine.  Trust me on this, guys.

 

Number 2 - Whether he admits it or not, every man has a secret longing for a Swiss Army Knife.  You be the one to finally give him one, and see if he doesn't bust his jeans shirt buttons over it.  Doesn't have to be the big one with 99 different tools, either.  Simpler is better.

Number 3 - Another thing every man would love to have is a forehead flashlight.  Flashlights in general are always good man gifts, but this brilliant idea should have been thought of long ago.  Totally useful in all kinds of situations, indoor and out.

Number 4 - Any man would be glad to get an automatic tire inflator to keep in the truck or car, one that plugs into the cigarette lighter.  Some models come with flashing emergency lights too.  Extremely handy.

Number 5 - Loose, comfy lounge pants.  With pockets.  And a one-button fly.  Perfect.  A coordinating pocket T-shirt, comfortable for sleeping in (= one size bigger than he normally wears), would be icing on the cake.

Number 6 - If you honestly can't think of anything else, booze is always a good idea (if he's not a teetotaler).  Any or all of these would work for just about any man you care to name; the local liquor store can give you more suggestions, too.

Number 7 - If you live in cold country, some leather gloves and a Zippo handwarmer will keep your man warm and cozy for up to 12 hours at a time; and unlike the chemical things you can get nowadays, it's infinitely reusable.

Number 8 - A set of magnetic screwdrivers, flathead and phillips.  Or a cordless electric screwdriver.  Or a nice roomy portable toolbox.  Or, what every guy needs - truly - a laser level/stud finder.  Don't worry - it only works on studs in the wall, not anywhere else.

Number 9 - Did I mention cigars?  There's all kinds, all shapes, all sizes - but a fine Exacalibur by Hoyo de Monterrey says "Blow some my way" like no other.

Number 10 - Your cigar smoking stud will lick slobber tickle kiss you all over if you add an engraved Zippo lighter to make him look totally suave and Sean-Connery-ish when he lights up a nice maduro.

There ya go, boys.  Don't say you couldn't think of anything and fall back on the weasley gift card, that he'll probly lose, the big lug, before he ever gets to the store with it.  None of these gifts costs a whole lot - though it's not the price, but the love that goes into it, anyway - and they'll be remembered and appreciated a long, long time.  Starting on Christmas night . . . .   Grin.  Try it and see.

Handel: For Unto Us a Child Is Born

They go a little overboard with the pictures here, but it's a good recording of one of my favorites.  I always wanted to see a full performance of Messiah in person.  Never have, though.  Not sure I could sit through it all at this late age, either.  But some pieces, like this one, are simply - exquisite.

Newsbites

At this holiday time, when the Christian world is - theoretically - piously commemorating the birth of Christ, a little good cheer from Mexico . . . and a lot of fake-Christian crap from elsewhere.

A bill to legalize same-sex marriage, including adoption rights, passes  Mexico City's legislative assembly by 39-20.  The city enacted civil unions in 2007, and will be the first jurisdiction in all of Latin America to have equal marriage.  Population, 2009:  8.8 million, and 21 million in the metro area.

City lawmaker Victor Romo, a member of the mayor's leftist party, called it a historic day.  "For centuries unjust laws banned marriage between blacks and whites or Indians and Europeans," he said. "Today all barriers have disappeared."

But in New Mexico, whose statutes do not specify that married couples have to be male and female, a state legislator has filed a bill to close that theoretical loophole by constitutional amendment.  (New Mexico has never recognized or performed same-sex marriages.)  A domestic partnership bill was defeated there earlier this year, but Governor Bill Richardson says he hopes to get such a bill passed next year.

Up in Canada, where equal marriage became the law of the land in 2005, the gay-haters are foaming at the mouth over this wicked, disgusting, totally obscene Christmas card sent out by Member of Parliament Scott Brison to 5,000 friends and constituents:

Nova Scotian Brison, on the left, married his husband, Maxime St. Pierre, in 2007, the first federal MP to marry a same-sex partner while in office.  The wedding was attended by the cream of Canadian politicians, including two former prime ministers.  And still, even in liberal, gay-friendly Canada - the haters just can't stand even the merest suggestion that two men can love each other.  Especially at Christmas time!

Back in the U.S., Prominent right-wing homophobes Peter LaBarbera and Matt Barber are slugging it out over who should take the rap for this repulsive description of gay relationships:  "one man violently cramming his penis into another man’s lower intestine and calling it ‘love.’”  Joe Jervis, as usual, is on the case, with glee. 

Notice, guys - this is a scared-shitless straight boy's nightmare concept of what it's like.  Not at all the reality as we experience it.  Not the truth.  A lie - but a Big Lie that straight boys for centuries have built up and spread in the name of their self-reflecting Heterosexual God - and have used, and are still using, to absolutely crush the life out of gay people wherever they can.

Joe is also keeping track of the freeper-creepers whose maniacal calls for Civil War II are growing more strident:

A violent overthrow of the socialist bastard traitors BEFORE this hellish health care debacle gets enacted is the only way we will ever be able to stop our plunge into socialist-fascist tyranny. I only hope that we have enough patriotic military officers & soldiers who will fight with us & for us.

 Uh-huh.  Socialist-fascist tyranny.  Can you say oxymoron, you morons?

Over in the United Kingdom, where civil partnerships have been in place for four years now, they have their extremists too:  Stephen Green, leader of Christian Voice, says Jesus approves killing the gays - and adulteresses too: 

The Bible calls for the ultimate penalty for sodomy (Lev 20:13) and for rape (Deut 22:25), and our Lord upheld the death penalty when He called for the accusers of the woman caught in adultery to cast the first stone (John 8:7) – if, that is, they were not implicated in adultery themselves. The contrast between our politicians and those of Uganda could not be more stark. A Parliamentarian in Uganda is trying to protect his nation's children. The House of Commons of the United Kingdom is trying to corrupt ours.

Hmm, so just Who Would Jesus Kill? - and would that include all the family-loving, Bible-believing, adulterous Republican politicians in this country?

Also, in Northern England, an Anglican priest in York, the Rev. Tim Jones, has delivered a sermon advising his congregation to shoplift from big retailers - not small ones, mind you - because "God's love for the poor is more important than the property rights of the rich."  Help me out here guys - I just can't find this verse in the Sermon on the Mount, can you?  And just What Would Jesus Steal, anyway?

Down in Puerto Rico, though, a voice of sanity:  out bisexual closeted I-never-said-I-was-gay singing star and single dad Ricky Martin has a timely message of peace and goodwill to men posted on his website:

The murders of James Byrd, Matthew Shepard, Jorge Steven Lopez [Mercado], Marcelo Lucero, Luis Ramirez and countless others who were victims of violent 'hate crimes' should be completely unacceptable to every human being; because we're all human beings. . . .  Accepting diversity is the first and most important step we can take towards eliminating hate crimes and uniting humanity. If we ACCEPT, humanity unites. If humanity unites, equal human rights will become a reality. And if equal human rights become a reality, peace will be within our reach.

And finally, on an archaeological note, the remains of a small, modest house dating from the time of Jesus have been found in Nazareth, illustrating the typical living accommodations of that time and place.  Nothing fancy, just little bitty houses in a little hick town way out in the boonies:  you'd never think anything worth mentioning would come from a place like that, would you?

Girly Boy Can Kick Your Ass

And I bet he's never been the last to be chosen for a team, either.

Sullivan says the coming-out story of 6-foot-3, 225-pound, 35-year-old rugby legend Gareth Thomas is a big deal in his native Britain.  Thomas, who was married and at one point considered suicide, says:

It has been really tough for me, hiding who I really am, and I don't want it to be like that for the next young person who wants to play rugby, or some frightened young kid.  I don't know if my life is going to be easier because I'm out, but if it helps someone else, if it makes one young lad pick up the phone to Childline, then it will have been worth it.

The response from his teammates has been hugely supportive, he reports: "Why didn't you tell us before?"

Well, we know why, don't we guys? But one day, and soon I hope, there won't be a need for the closet anymore.

The Decade from Hell

. . . that's what Time's editors call it, from hanging chad to economic meltdown and all that came in between.  Will the next decade be better?  What do you say, guys?

As far as progress on LGBT rights, there's a lot to be happy about, despite some severe disappointments:  44 percent of the U.S. population now lives in states that outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation, and 29 percent live where gender-identity discrimination is also illegal.  Eleven states offer same-sex marriage, or a near equivalent; seven others offer at least some rights and protections for same-sex couples. 

See a quick summary of how far we've come in the last ten years, prepared by the Movement Advancement Project, A Decade of Progress on LGBT Rights; or the full 20-page Momentum Report (both PDF).

Bonus:  a clickable map that shows the estimated LGB (no T, sorry) population in your state, and a quick run down of pro- or anti-LGBT laws. 

The Unique-ierest Species

Men and monkeys, science and faith:  World-renowned neurobiologist Robert Sapolsky gives the commencement address at Stanford University.  This guy is the professor you wish you had for Biology 101:   sharp, witty, down to earth, and speaking plain English.

(I also totally love the beard, woof.  I just might get mine out that long one of these days.  The hair is groovy too, but I sure don't want to have to wash and dry it every day:  been there, done that.)

Skip the intro remarks, the speech starts at exactly the 5:00 mark.  Listen to the first minute, and you'll be hooked till the end.  Closing concept, paraphrased by your Head Trucker:

The more you realize it's impossible for one person to make a difference, to make the world better - the more you realize that you must try to do just that.

(Honk to Andrew Sullivan)

Lovelight: So This Is Christmas

If you can't be with the ones you love this Christmas - love the ones you're with.  That's why you're here.

Goodnight, guys.

Sunday Drive: O Little Town of Bethlehem

Advent IV

My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden. . . .
He hath shewed strength with his arm,
he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat,
and hath exalted the humble and meek.
He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away. . . .



My favorite rendition of this song is by Emmylou Harris, which unfortunately I can't find on YouTube; but Sarah's version just might become a close second to it.

For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven:
by the power of the Holy Spirit
he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary,
and was made man. . . .

Holy and gracious Father: In your infinite love you made us
for yourself, and, when we had fallen into sin and become
subject to evil and death, you, in your mercy, sent Jesus Christ,
your only and eternal Son, to share our human nature,
to live and die as one of us, to reconcile us to you,
the God and Father of all.

He stretched out his arms upon the cross, and offered himself,
in obedience to your will, a perfect sacrifice for the whole world.

To live and die as one of us:  Well now, fellas, it really makes no nevermind to your Head Trucker what you choose to believe, as long as you obey the speed limit and keep your dog out of my yard.  At each stage in life, it seems to me, we believe what we need to believe; and like the chambered Nautilus, if we are wise and humble-hearted, our spiritual progress leads us on to ever more roomy mansions, though always circling round the divine mystery at the heart of things.

And of that central point toward which all converges, what can we say, what can we know for certain?  Very little.  Now your Head Trucker spent more than a few years digging through the Scriptures and sermons of Christianity for an answer to those questions; and though my excavations may not have gone as deep as those of some others, I am prepared to state categorically that the end of all our labors and all our cogitations upon the subject is but a handful of straw - as St. Thomas Aquinas put it, and his was a brain much greater than mine.

A very famous poem - well, it was once, though I doubt that any of you young'uns ever came across it in school, the times being so practical and unpoetical now - a very famous poem from the Victorian era, about "six blind men from Hindustan," expresses the problem of theological knowledge very nicely.  And then again, the wise Solomon declares: "of the making of many books there is no end, and the study thereof is a weariness to the flesh." For myself, I find that Keats sums up my view rather neatly:  "I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of Imagination - What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth - whether it existed before or not - " Here, it may be that the young poet spoke more profoundly than he knew.

Believe what you will - and then "do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God" - "love your neighbor as yourself" - "And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise."  That covers the outward expression of religion.  And yet we do not "live by bread alone" - our souls, as our bodies, must be fed too; the inner man needs nourishment as does the outer man.  Where shall we turn for spiritual sustenance, then?  Some find it in Nature - "my heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky."  Some in works of imagination or poetry, some in great works of art.  And some in philosophy or mythology or Scripture.  Sometimes we even find it in the face or the body of another human being; for that truth we all seek is Love, and Love is to be found everywhere:  in all things and through all things, if we have eyes to see.


Here I will share something that nourishes my soul and brings me comfort - if it helps you too, that's fine, and if not, then find something that does - and that is the immense mystery, the profound story of the Incarnation:  the Word made flesh, truly God and truly man.  A story not of power and glory, but of utter failure and suffering and humility; and for that very reason, a grand story - the greatest.

I cannot claim to have made a study of world religions, though I have come across a beautiful insight here and there.  What I can say is that I have yet to find a description of God - the ultimate Goodness, the height and depth and end of all our searching - that moves me as deeply as this story does.  Understand that here I am not talking about true and untrue, correct and incorrect - no, I'm talking about something no theological disputation can ever settle or assure:  the intuitive glimpse of the Love that lies at the heart of all things, that moves the stars, that is the ground of being.
 
For "Love is patient, love is kind - love is humble, does not put on airs."  Does it not follow, then, that the Supreme Love would be supremely humble, also?  Nowhere in my (admittedly casual) reading of other religions have I found an example of a God so loving that He would put aside his own divinity - to live and die as one of us - us men, us women, us fragile creatures of a day - so humble that He would descend from the heights of celestial glory to put on this mortal coil, to inhabit as we do this bag of bones and blood, so easily broken, so easily crushed.
 
The story is not at all what one would expect:  the Lord of Hosts, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father - born to a poor working-class couple, and not even in the relative comfort of their small-town home; nor even in a rented room; but in the squalor of a stable.  You fellas who never scraped manure out of a barn should stop a minute right here and just imagine the smell.  And no crib for a bed - but laid in a cattle trough, with perhaps a little clean straw, if any could be found, as a cushion.  A humbler beginning can hardly be imagined:  a quiet, obscure, unnoticed life in a little redneck town, miles from nowhere.  No great deeds to be performed, none expected:  just another barefoot, small-town kid, growing up in the sticks, learning his father's trade, no hope of anything bigger or better.  A tiny life; nothing glorious at all.
 
And then of course, to look at the other end of the story:  after doing great good for many people - to find all faces turned against him, and every door closed - despised and rejected of men - proclaimed a most wicked sinner, an evildoer, a heretic and blasphemer by the highest religious authorities - hunted down by the government - betrayed by a close friend turned police spy - deserted at the hour of his greatest need, abandoned by all who said they loved him - left alone, utterly alone - praying to God, begging God for help, for mercy, for a way out.  But there was no way out:  to live and die as one of us, in pain, in agony, in tears and sweat and blood.  Alone.  Friendless.  Helpless.
 
What kind of God is this?  Certainly not one I would ever have dreamed up.  Nor you either, I imagine.
 
From obscurity to degradation; from poverty to brutal death:  to live and die as one of us.
 
Yet how better could Love demonstrate itself than to do just that?
 
And of course, Christians believe the story did not end at the silent, bloodstained tomb - that the Story really only began right there.  But that, you can look up for yourself.
 
"There are some things worth believing even if they aren't true."  A line from a very good movie, which I recommend very heartily to you all if you want to know how a man should live and think:  Secondhand Lions, with Michael Caine and Robert Duvall. 
 
I'm not here suggesting that you have to believe this Christmas story as gospel truth; that's entirely up to you, my friends.  But considered purely as a story, is it not a wonderful thing?  I'm just sharing with you what I like to think is the holiness of my heart's affections:  a belief in a God who is not too proud to stoop to the muddy, bloody level of humanity.  A God with mud on his boots and dust on his face, born in a barn, not a palace.  A God who cares deeply about the poor and the hungry, the humble and the meek, the obscure and the frustrated and the friendless, and all the smelly, lonely shitkickers of the world:  because He was one of them, Himself.  Whether it strikes a chord in you or not, I find it a great comfort to believe in a God who is intimately acquainted with all the losses and hurts, the griefs and irremediable pains of my own life - because He has already suffered all of them, Himself.
 
There are many other lovely stories in the world, and some of them are also deeply moving, very profound.  This is the one, though, that touches my heart the most - and gives me hope that even though human life is ultimately too short, too bitter, and too cruel, and my own, like many another, is so small, so meager, so obscure and apparently so pointless - that yet, against all hope, beyond all knowing or imagining:  "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
 
And that - not Santa Claus, not sleigh bells, not reindeer, not ribbons - is what Christmas means to me:  "Love came down from heaven - " to live and die as one of us.  I hope all of you, my Truckbuddies, in this holiday season - whichever holiday you celebrate - that you also discover a story, a Love, that fills and warms and comforts your heart, as this one does mine.
 
Merry Christmas.

Same Shit, Different Day

Do not frickin' believe anybody who yells about a "rush" to reform healthcare in this country.  The struggle, continually defeated by the medical profession (can you say AMA?), the insurance industry, and scaremongering "anti-communist" demagogues, has been going on for nearly a century now, people.  Yup.  And the opposition is still using the very same tactics and the very same overwrought end-of-the-world rhetoric they browbeat our grandfathers with.

Go read A Brief History: Universal Health Care Efforts in the US, and see for yourself.  If you like interactive presentations, there's also A History of Healthcare Reform in the New York Times. 

I like this quote from the first source (it's in the footnotes):

One Canadian lesson — the movement toward universal health care in Canada started in 1916 (depending on when you start counting), and took until 1962 for passage of both hospital and doctor care in a single province. It took another decade for the rest of the country to catch on. That is about 50 years all together. It wasn’t like we sat down over afternoon tea and crumpets and said please pass the health care bill so we can sign it and get on with the day. We fought, we threatened, the doctors went on strike, refused patients, people held rallies and signed petitions for and against it, burned effigies of government leaders, hissed, jeered, and booed at the doctors or the Premier depending on whose side they were on. In a nutshell, we weren’t the sterotypical nice polite Canadians. Although there was plenty of resistance, now you could more easily take away Christmas than health care, despite the rhetoric that you may hear to the contrary.

OMG, I almost wish the can't-see-you-now, country-club-loving, cocaine-snorting doctors would go on strike in this country.  Can you think of anything that would get healthcare reform passed any quicker?  People would be so flamin' outraged at them . . . .

N.B. - Ex-president Teddy Roosevelt - yup, ol' T.R. himself - first brought the idea of national health insurance to Presidential politics when he ran for election on the Progressive ticket in 1912.  Yes, 19-fucking-12, people.  At the time, he argued that America should not lag behind Imperial Germany, which had instituted national health insurance under Bismarck in 1883, with other European countries soon following suit.

And the first sitting President to fight for national healthcare reform was Harry Truman, who sent an extensive legislative package on this subject to Congress in 1945.  (FDR had briefly considered such a proposal when he brought in Social Security and workmen's comp, back in 1934, but pragmatically allowed it to wither so he could get the other proposals passed.)

And still, after all these many years, half the country thinks like this - and they aren't all living south of the Mason-Dixon line, either:

The fact of the matter is that other democracies, in fact every other industrialized, developed nation in the Western world has had some kind of national healthcare plan for the last fifty to a hundred years or even longer. 

So can we ple-e-e-e-e-a-se drop the stupid-ass, backwoods-Baptist idea that the world will come to a thundering, crashing halt if America has it, too?

I thank you.

Propaganda posters from the national creepsite Free Republic.  I'm going to go scrub my computer with Lysol now.