The Church in Politics

An article in the LA times online entitled “The Church steps into political fray in Spain” outlines the sticky issue of religion’s involvement in politics. Without endorsing a particular candidate or political party, Roman Catholic bishops in the country spoke out recently about their parishioners’ “duty to defend traditional values and to elect leaders “responsibly” when they go to poles Sunday.” They also “condemned many of the policies that have been hallmarks of the ruling Socialist Workers Party, such as abortion rights and same-sex marriage.” Their words were perceived by the Socialist Workers Party as “church interference” but this stance has long been characteristic of the views of the Roman Catholic Church. Has there suddenly been a violation of the concept of the separation of church and state?

While I certainly don’t support the idea of a church-run state, does this mean that religion should not play a role in the way people vote? In a representative form of government it is only natural that the people’s religious views, which may range from conservative Christian to Atheist, ought to be represented by their elected officials along with any other views the people hold. How does it follow that it then becomes some sort of crime when a religious or community leader asks the adherents to his or her faith or philosophy to find and support candidates who espouse similar values? Though the country allowing this level of freedom of speech and expression may run the risk of letting opposing beliefs or principles worm their way into its politics, it guarantees those freedoms along with the freedom of religion for its people. If the people of Spain are truly free and free thinking they should—and will—vote according to their consciences. They will vote to remain a free people.

Ancient Text

James resumed his decent, eager to distance himself from the smothering civilization above and longing to feel the calm flow of the steady waters below. As his legs and lungs began to burn again with the exertion, wind cooled the sweat on his body. He relished every sensation his body created while running here. Clean air flowed in and out smelling of the plants of the forest. The green forest below continued to raise closer promising a shady diminishing of the heat. The only sounds besides the wind and the sound of his decent were the distant cries of the black birds above and distant sounds of the river below. He thought of the quiet there by the water where he could study the ancient texts on the age of magic he had brought along. Normally appointees didn’t have access to these documents but James had pulled a couple of the family political strings to get the copies the ancient myths.

Descending down past the towering monolithic walls rock by rock, stride by stride, James finally ducked into the trees. He could feel the increased humidity as he sucked deep breaths of the river moistened air. Around him were the chirps of insects and birds and occasional rustles as small animals fled the sound of his running feet. When he neared the river he slowed his pace to a quick walk and slowly let his breathing return to normal. Then he turned left off the trail and headed upriver to a placed he liked to go where a weathered lichen covered boulder sloped into the water. Moss grew on the massive rock where it created a pool of still water that reflected the clouds in the sky above. He pulled off the elastic straps of his pack, unlaced his shoes, and then dipped bare feet into the cool water and let out a satisfied sigh. It was times like these that made him feel as though he wasn't wasting his time studying ancient history. Unfortunately these times were few and far between.

He frowned at the thought and pulled out the School Controlled Reader and Office Ledger (SCROL) he had brought along. It was thin, square, and translucent green in color. It always reminded him of cheap glass. He set the 9X9 nich SCROL on his lap and pressed the dark black spot in one corner to activate it. Words flashed up beneath his fingers. The Last Age of Magic: The Great War and the Sealing; Translated from book #L015 dated Cycle 207 OTR. Book inscription translated: Ancestors Gone.

The date placed it as one of the earliest records of history just 307 cycles after the foundation of The Republic. It began: “I Oltic Leader of the Republic herein write the true history of my people as a future counter to our necessary propaganda against the remnants of the rebel Zolar.” As James read, a story began to unfold about 2 civilizations. The Neutal he recognized as the Ancients and the Zolar he recognized as the nation of magic using witch’s brood that were defeated by the Ancients. (There was also a group that he had never heard of before called the Ancestors.) The Zolar and the Ancients had long disagreed on the consequences of the use of magic. He noted that magic correctly translated was the forces unseen.

The Ancients believed that extensive uncontrolled use of magic would cause great upheavals in their planet such as earthquakes, volcanoes, and other “natural” disasters. The Zolar, who thrived on the use of magic, believed that the opposite was the case. They taught that the forces of magic, if left unused and uncontrolled, would cause natural disasters. The Ancestors, a group new to James, warned that neither view was completely correct but did favor the limitation of magic use.

The Ancients thought that their beliefs were substantiated when a series of great earthquakes destroyed several cities of both civilizations. These earthquakes coincided with what was described as a “large magical experiment” in the heart of Zolar. The Ancients immediately demanded the cessation of all high volume magical operation. This was apparently found unacceptable to the Zolar who declared war on the Ancients and began to wreak devastation. Here the text described the terrible atrocities caused by both sides in the war. The magic of the Zolar was used to create volcanoes, hurricanes, sweeping fires, earthquakes, and floods. The weapons of the Ancients destroyed both civilians and advancing armies with a flash, leaving only ash behind. Those of the Ancients who were able to use magic attempted to counter the Zolar but were far too few. Through the use of technology given to the Ancients by the Ancestors, the Zolar were held at bay.

It was during this time that the Ancients discovered the means to cleanse the world of magic. They developed “The Device” which was capable of obliterating all magical forces. After an unheeded warning to the Zolar, the Ancients saw no choice but to use the Device. The text ended with “And so the Zolar civilization was defeated. The Device was put to rest in a chamber next to the Great River and the Ancestors left for they would die without magic.”

James sat back, pondering the meaning of the last few sentences and their author. Oltic had led The Republic during a period known as the Consolidation. During this time The Republic expanded its territory and solidified its governing structure. Several points of Oltic’s account differed with the common history that was taught today. For starters even three hundred years after they were defeated, the descendants of the Zolar were still causing trouble. Most people believed that the Zolar all died when The Device was used. Oltic also spoke of evils committed by the Ancients who were always hailed today as heroic defenders. James had never heard of these mysterious Ancestors either. Who where they? Where the Ancients their descendants?

He also wondered which river was the Great River. If he could find The Device he might find the answer to some of his questions. Even if he didn’t get any answers, he would certainly have made a great discovery. He decided he would have to search the records for any mention of the Great River that might link to current geography.

James looked up at the sky and for the first time noticed that the sun had set, the last vestiges of its light fading from deep purple to black and star flecked. He was about to start digging in his pack for a blanket when he heard someone moving towards him from further down the Delvar. It was one of the Preserve wardens. In the daylight James would have seen a man dressed entirely in uniform dark green from hat to boots with a flash rifle strapped to his back and side arm on his belt along with other outdoors equipment. In the darkness he only saw a bluish white light swiveling about. As the warden approached James recognized him as one of his father’s acquaintances.

“Your father asked me to come and get you,” he stated bluntly without preamble. “There’s been an emergency at the Schools that’s called him and your sisters away.”

“What does he need me for?”

“He said that he would leave you instructions. Please follow me as soon as you are ready.” The man’s tone seemed to indicate that he already felt his time was being wasted. James threw on his shoes again and stuffed his bottles and SCROL into his mini pack and told the warden he was ready.

More from the story

A note to the reader: This is in its first and unrevised form and the story may change and evolve as it is written. It is also likely that there are spelling, grammatical, and other errors. Be that as it may I hope that it is at least mildly entertaining.

Dust sprang to life beneath the feet of James Adden. The narrow path along the canyon wall flowed smoothly and swiftly behind as his steady legs carried him above it all. The drop revealing the canyon stretched out below just inches to the right. To him it was the freedom of flight to run along the path that descended to the canyon's waters below. James flew over the large rocks and gravel as if carried on the wind. With his arms spread wide for balance his feet nimbly navigated the rough terrain.

As was his custom James paused about half way down at an outcropping that gave a view of the canyon that stretched for mials in both directions. Here, gazing at the river valley carved out from mountains, he remembered how all the artists' renditions of the Preserve truly paled and faded in view of seeing reality. The artists could show what it looked like on any given day but could never capture the feeling of standing in the air above it all. He felt connected here; connected to everything but completely free.

Rocks black but for a tint of red, stood like stately pillars above and below, a natural foundation holding up the mesa upon which the capital Delvar, called The Great City, was built. On both sides of the distant river 1500 lengths below were the forest flats. From his vantage above, it appeared to be a green carpet framing the twists and turns of the blue waters that snaked their way down to the sea hundreds of mials away. The sheer stone walls opposite James rose up from the forest carpet below to a height several hundred lengths higher than the mesa rim behind him. This wall did not flatten into a mesa but tapered slightly back into magnificent jagged peaks. Gaps, wide and narrow, marked where streams tumbled down in waterfalls between the arms of the great mountains. The dark stains running down the wall between the peaks indicated where small streams began their trickle down to the canyon during the rainy season. It was believed that over time the waters flowing in and to the Delvar River had carved the mesa away from the mountains.

The city above was the largest on the continent and consequently the center of commerce, industry, and scientific research of The Republic. James' immediate family was mainly involved in the scientific research done in the city. His father Richard and two younger sisters were in the study of the physical elements. His father was the city's Master of Fields, one of his sisters, 16 year old Jolla, studied in his school at apprentice level. His other sister, Kenna who was 20, was favored student to the Master of Stars and head of sample research. The newest samples from one of the other planets of their star had everyone in their school excited. Kenna had gone on about the latest discovery of what might be microorganisms and the "heat tests", what ever they were, for about an hour before James felt like he was covered in tiny alien creatures. As his father had heaped repeated praises on Kenna's contributions to the Prime Sciences, James had felt more and more like a delinquent child.

Rather than studying one of the Prime Sciences James had chosen the study of the Ancients and History, two of the lesser sciences in the School of Antiquities. He was an on-call appointee at the school of History. So far in his short career he had discovered several errors in previous translations that lead to better understanding of the ancient texts. But the school of History had very limited avenues for advancement and being an appointee at age 23 didn't allow him the kind income to free himself from the smothering confines of the city.

What made it all harder to bare was the fact that what accomplishments James did have were dwarfed by the rest of his family—even his extended family—save his youngest sister who had "astonishing potential" according to his father. His more distant relatives were involved in politics. His uncles and aunts held positions in the Head Council or seats in the Court of the Great Republic. There was always important business swirling around, pressing in.

To take his mind off of his monotonous, pressurized life James spent several hours a week studying at several of the assemblies of the Faith. The quiet, spiritual atmosphere there seemed to help him relax. He had also begun studying at a self-defense school. So far he had only learned the first and second set of basic blocks and attacks for hands and feet and the first three forms for the staff. It took 2 about hours every other day. But the off days when he wasn’t at the assemblies left him open again to the pressure of being in an overachieving family. That's what brought him here on these days. There was no pressure between the canyon walls; only the freedom of air and flowing water.

Funny

http://www.xkcd.com/325/

be sure to read the mouse over also

When I first stepped off the plane in Narita Japan my first thoughts were: Ah, it sure feels nice to move my poor stiff legs again. Oh the luxurious space! The surreal feeling that I had somehow stepped into the parallel dimension of a sci-fi movie shortly followed these thoughts. The things around me seemed normal enough—just what you would expect to see at an airport. Men with orange light sticks directed traffic on the tarmac and people bustled about with their carry-on luggage hurrying off to their destinations. But the people didn’t look right. An ocean of Asians had replaced the multicultural vista of my mountainous home. Foreign language danced about the air tickling my mind, begging by its mere existence to be understood.

Japanese characters mocked my question eyes as I searched for the directional cues the writing usually affords. Eventually they alighted upon a sign with the word baggage and an arrow pointing down the concourse. After a minute or so of walking, I began to wonder if I was still on the right track but decided to be content with following the stream of other people from my flight to wherever they were walking so confidently. They flowed down several stairways and turned down two or three hallways before arriving at the immigrations area. After deciphering the immigration officer’s English and another walk to baggage claim I found myself breezed through customs to the waiting area not twenty minutes after my flight had arrived.

I did not see Ashley my friend and host for the trip. So I found a seat and looked around me. The other people waiting mostly kept to themselves avoiding looking in my direction, though a couple passing children openly stared before their parents hurried them along. I assumed that this ignoring was either politeness—no one likes to be stared at—or some kind of cultural shyness. A few pages of the novel that I had brought along later, I was speaking my first complete sentences in Japan with Ashley.

Everyone wants it

Have you ever noticed that practically everyone wants their way? Whether you’re talking about a child in the toy isle or the new overbearing boss who’s trying to prove himself, they all just want their way. This struck home today as I realized that yes, even I want my way.

I was recently able to switch shifts from Sunday-Monday to Friday-Saturday night which keeps me from having to work on any school nights. After my first shift last week, my boss informed me that the people he wants to hire all want to work this shift too. What a predicament! I more or less told him that I wasn’t too crazy about the idea. He then raked me over the coals asking questions about why I hadn’t taken that shift in the beginning when there were no other candidates for the position. I explained to him that I hadn’t known that there wouldn’t be classes for me on Fridays. When things played out and I didn’t have those Friday classes it became obvious that the Friday-Saturday schedule was much better suited to my school schedule. This is why I switched over at the first chance. It must seem very inconvenient for the boss though, suddenly not having anyone who wants that shift.

Now, what does this have to do with wanting my way? I was considering quitting if I got switched back to Sunday-Monday. Never mind that it’s a good job. Never mind that I’ve been able to handle the schedule with only minor problems. Never mind that I need the income. How hasty of me! Of course the news was delivered at the end of a 14 hour shift so I was undoubtedly not in the best mood. Upon further thought I realize that I can make the shift work for me, at least for the time being. If my classes were any harder I’d have to rethink that. Next semester doesn’t look like it will be as easy so when that time arrives my options may shrink. For the time being I’ll let the sleeping dog lie and cross that bridge when I come to it. The time may approach when I have to butt heads with The Man but until then I’ll be keeping my head from bruises.

Orange Gelatin Madness Strikes

Orange Gelatin Madness has once again struck the small town of Socorro. The first recorded incident was reported by a girl known only as “The Manga Loving Dragon Slayer Ninja Pirate.” She noted that the first stages of the insanity had set in when she found herself on the second floor of her apartment in a bathtub filled with orange Jell-o. She told reporters that before becoming aware of her surroundings she believed herself to be eating dinner at the table on the first floor of the apartment. She first became suspicious when all the food at the table appeared to be orange gelatin. It is not yet known if the madness is contagious. Citizens are encouraged to report to the nearest hospital if they begin seeing orange gelatin in irregular places.


I thought it would be pertinent for many to know of the preceding article I found pasted to the ceiling of my living room. I certainly hope that I do not contract this most peculiar disease.