Musings of the Reverend Meduri and Dr. Jackass
Experimentations in Literary Groin Punches
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
  A Feeble Attempt...
With all of the accelerating momentum that seems to be occurring around us, I find it difficult to pause and survey the landscape. Life seems to be imbued with a cyclical happening of a recognition of an new epoch... or perhaps the percipice of that epoch.

It actually happens too often (or maybe just these days it does), that we no longer fail to acknowledge it. We are constantly returning; constantly referring; perpetually regressing into our own subjective scrapbook of experience. We do it because "what comes after" is unknown and frightening. That is not to say that "what comes after" is always valuable (or, for that matter, is always invalid), merely that it establishes a contrast with it's predecessor. The individual judges the merits of that change.

But, for our purposes, time moves in one direction. All movement in the Universe does so, necessarily, from the influence of what came before. There is an Inertia that is inescapeable and ontologically sturdy. Any moral or ethical judgement about this Inertia is invalid; it is simply the tide of existence.

I realize I am ever the child. This 'calling-out-to-Mother' that forces us to look (and look again) at what's around us takes me by surprise.

'Tis an exercise I thought I had long outgrown, until my arms fit through the sleeves and the belt buckled again.
Monday, July 31, 2006
  Did I Fall; or Was I Pushed?
Perusing through a local used book store (that until last week I didn't know existed) with my friend Carlos, we were immediately assaulted by the great deals on very new, well-recognized releases. I mean, we're talkin' 2 bucks here. Most notable was the last few installments of the 'Left Behind' series. Carlos held up a copy and gaped "Two bucks!"

A feeling of immediate revulsion overcame me as I marvelled at how anyone, even a rational Christian, could ever buy that nonsense (even if it was cheap nonsense. After pausing to ponder, I exclaimed "Y'know, those Fundies have a wonderful way to subliminate their fears about the apocalypse:" (of course, everyone has those fears to some degree, secular or religious) "instead of being a source of enormous dread and the extinction of mankind, they look at the end of the world and think, 'wow, Jesus will come back and everything will be paradise,'" This, obviously, in stark contrast the rational minded folk who think that this is pure bollocks and that the apocalypse is something to be avoided instead of hastened. Hell, they even call it the 'Second Coming' so as to spin the negative connotations of 'extinction' and 'global death.'

At this moment, a portly fellow browsing the used CDs walks over and says to both of us: "I just can't wait for the apocalypse so all of those Christians will disappear and leave us alone." I remember saying something to the effect of 'Well put,' belted out a chuckle and moved on. But, this leads me to a bigger revelation (with a small 'r'): if self-sacrifice is such a key tennet to their eschatology, they should preempt (an action popular with Fundies these days) and just off themselves en mass. They'll get what they want: paradise eternal in the WalMart-in-the-sky; and we'll get what we want: peace and fucking quiet!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Most days, I almost forget all about Iraq. But I was struck recently by a most jarring thought. This war has been going on for so long at this point that during its tenure, I started dating the woman who would become my fiancee, I paid off an auto loan, I will have moved twice, I have grown and subsequently shaved multiple beards, I have seen friends come in to my life, and friends move along to new ones, I have joined a band, had a guitar stolen, thrown a cabin party, re-learned how to play piano, have finally traveled to Mexico (twice), went scuba diving for the first time, watched two brothers graduate from college, took a road trip from LA to Seattle and back, welcomed 6 new cousins into the family (3 births, 3 marriages), and the list goes on.

Now when I think about what has happened around me during the Iraq War, it makes me a little sad that these types of experiences are taken away from so many people who are mostly my age or younger.

This is my first post in well over a year. Maybe it will start something.

rev. m
Thursday, March 16, 2006
  An Appeal for 'P'ing Sweetly
Over a drink at the local watering whole, I made a case for the 'Bold Leap.' To the unfamiliar, my concept of the Bold Leap is that action which one makes, acutely aware of risks and uncertainties, for the purpose of stimulating necessary changes in one's life. It's relevant in that it seems to be a tool and a concept that I share with Mr. John Rivera. He has since taken the leap himself; and, in my opinion, made the change to better his life. And that awareness has given me a not-so-insignificant vigor and resumed confidence in my own decision.

So, instead of rehashing what doesn't need to be said again about my own Big Choice, I'll use this opportunity to delineate my admiration for the man.

All that can be summed up about John ('Johnny Asshole'/P. Sweetly) Rivera is best, and most poignantly illustrate by the movie First Blood with Sylvester Stallone. In some sense, John looks at John Rambo (same first names???!) as an abstraction of himself. It certainly a wildly disparate abstraction, but an abstraction nonetheless. Rambo, like John, is the reluctant hero. His sense of ethics and his drive is borne out of external forces: namely the overbearing and unjust ostracism of the authority. In First Blood, this is typified by the stogy and excitable Sheriff (played by Brian Dennehy) who takes every opportunity to coax Rambo into a confrontation.

Throughout the film, the conflict is escalated again and again as the callous and malicious intent of the Sheriff (and by extension his minions) as he views the 'outside influence' of Rambo's presence and unwanted and harmful. Rambo is constantly pushed even further into antagonism against all reason. This movement is so intense that the inevitable confrontation being stoked is bound to be a distrastrous one (and in True Tinseltown Fashion it is accentuated by large explosions and gunfire). I can see many parallels between John's favorite film and elements of his own life, elements that may be too obvious to extrapolate here.

My final synthesis on this is that this fictional character perfectly mirrors the two sides of my friend and comrade Mr. Rivera. He is both strong (in constitution and character) and vulnerable. His principles are just and his actions are forged out of a dire necessity to negotiate the slackroped-spanned precipice of our lives. Most especially, his affable sincerity compels you to root for his causes and lament his tribulations. But, in the end, he is singularly human, so all of his accomplishments are balanced by humility and self-deprecation.

He is like Rambo, not just in name, but in Quality. But, to diverge from the fantasy, my feeling is that John WON'T be led away in tears to a horde of police cruisers. I believe John will survive for many sequels, the next more irreverent than the last.

God speed sir.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
  A Transition; Estuary
Within the dull, anesthetized haze of a morning hangover after poker night, I was hit with a feeling of finality. Most of the ensemble from the previous night were sitting down together for breakfast to detox and I was swept up in the infectious joy being passed around between ourselves. I found myself growing silent and experiencing a partially-realized thought wash into my consciousness. It felt empty. In a second my attention was snapped back to the topic at hand, and the feeling subsided into the fuzziness that was engulfing my head.

Later, I recalled that I had sensed this in myself before: when Cameron left for Seattle. There were too many feelings about that incident to be able to identify them all adequately, but the ethereal sensation of loss was memorable enough to remain. It was a transition that I had not only dealt with, but, I think, turned around what could have been crippling listlessness and turned it into a time in my short life that I fused into a lively, beautiful and productive time. The friendships forged, the hardships endured and the life I lived since then have elicited changes and fortifications in my character that, now, I could not live without. These are results of the contributions of SO many friends and acquaintances who either knowingly or not, helped carry me through that expansive emotional chasm over which I was walking.

I wish I could say that all of the experiences were positive and progressive, and also that I had not behaved in childish and regrettable ways. The biggest regret of all seemed to be that I didn't have enough time to fulfill my responsibilities to those around me to my satisfaction. It, at once, seems merely a work in progress; left expectantly waiting like the blinking cursor. There is some (little) comfort that my northern migration does not mean the termination of these relationships, but instead just another inevitable change that permeates everything in life.

When I'm feeling particularly depressed about this, I try to look back at my family for the first model of this phenomenon. Even though there are seemingly vast deserts of time between visits to my family, it seems as of late, that I (and my family) have been making more attempts to commune and interact with one another. The unfulfilled wish to be able to visit on a more frequent basis seems to burn less knowing that I can still communicate to them that I still care and that they can reciprocate the same.

No more is this more pronounced than the other part of my family: the red-headed massagist. I could never convey how fortunate the bond that Cameron and I have that allows us to exist relatively free of distress because of our parting. The scattered handfulls of visits we've been able to scrounge up over the past year or so have all been wonderfully euphoric and bittersweet. And every successive visit kept reminding me that the ineffable life-sustaining nectar that Cameron's affection gives me would need to arrive sooner. I took strength from imagining that every day that I spent down here, working, playing, living, would better prepare me to rejoin Cameron and return to our partnership with new vigor and a fresh appreciation for what I am so fortunate to possess.

Right now I feel much like a salmon, waiting in that pool where you can taste both the freshwater and saltwater washing around me, with the indeniable, overpowering instinct to swim upstream growing stronger by the day.

I think I'm just about ready, so give me a little room.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
(OR Things that make me want to flip out and kill people [like a ninja])

- Award Shows
- Wearing Pro Jerseys as daily clothes (esp. soccer)
- Ignorant and Uninquisitive Persons (esp. Americans)
- Tourist Accumulation
- American Cultural Hegemony
- Ubiquitous Corporate Advertisements
- Ontologically Exclusive Idealisms
  Musings from Abroad
Inspired by a Dutch Coffeeshop*

It all went on too long;
Too many people, too many bad choices
And never enough mitigating circumstances.

Then it all burned down;
Traded totalitarianism for Tyranny.

Then the Weak built it all back up again,
But were denied the spoils.

They fought for them, and won.

Glutinous, they multiplied endlessly.

It all went on too long.

*After which I played the best game of Bust-a-Move/Puzzle Bobble ever!
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
To the Dearest Most Dreaded,
Without much time to spend on the undevoted, I offer you only the occassional glint of true labor in its most refined species and an understanding that money is only a medium. The question I first pose to you is What would you do with limitless wealth? and, secondly, What would you do if there weren't any wealth?
I look forward to further engagements. I wish only the best for you.
Drive safely,
John the Apostate
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
  Take Me To The River
The FCC estimated that 99.8 percent of complaints about broadcast indecency were
filed by one conservative group, the Parents Television Council, accounting for the exorbitant rise in the number of complaints that chairman Michael Powell described to Congress earlier this year, from 350 in 2001 to 240,000 in 2003.

Television? Wash me in the water...

--rev. m
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
  Letter to President Bush
Dear President Bush:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from you and understand why you would propose and support a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage.

As you said "in the eyes of God marriage is based between a man and a woman." I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... End of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however,regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are
there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev.21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary
that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them?Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.

Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Sharon Weight

BTSA Consortium Director

Campbell Union School District

155 North Third Street

Campbell, CA 95008

408.341.7000 ext.6236
Friday, October 29, 2004
  the terrible dry eye
i remember a slipping time tho i was not there

when sometimes i look skyward and cry a smokey dust

dripping musky booze

the skin shrivels in shudders

the love is there if there

is how

i get to where

i’ve read

the moon-lit refuse stained slate

retaining my carvings

of day dreams

lovely day beams

reminds me of the


for when I had so very little

except a long long time

to go

but now he say he love her so

and he may mean it

watching the time shore up its kind

racing to reel back its line

and the dusky


silt soaked


tightens its slack

in the clenched-grip


‘cross the brainstem

also known as feeling a still-remembered time

(time things take a wageslave day long to get [ie to have])

even still

the train returns to the same station

with a new passenger

clutching a new(s)paper

a novelty testament to achievement

to date

at least one can hope the words are those to govern a lifetime by

--a wispy longing for all the great dead art

rev. m

Thursday, October 28, 2004
  A Response to a Chain-Mail Forwarding Right-Winger
Once again, you are confusing my criticism of George W. Bush for
support for Kerry. This point in history is no more dangerous than
hundreds of other points in hundreds of other generations. I know
this because reading history is a personal hobby of mine. In fact, we
as a population are much more secure now than we ever have been. You
can see this for yourself if you take a look at average lifespan,
murder rates, medical technology, so on so on, etc.

The only reason this SEEMS like such a dangerous time is because we
are being programmed by the so-called "liberal" press and the current
administration to believe that is true. To be afraid. To let fear
fog any rational judgement or logical debate on any issue. Watch your
local news sometime...and if you can, try to go to the public library
and dig up some local news coverage from 10, 15, 20, or even 30 years
ago. Compare. I've done this. It will shock the hell out of you how
much more FEAR is pasted on to every news story. Minor rainwater
spillover becomes devastating flooding, Insect overpopulation becomes
invading swarms of disease and pestilence, etc. This wasn't the case
not so long ago...And now we're supposed to be afraid of a NEW threat
of terrorism? I hate to tell you, but terrorism is as old as
prostitution, and fighting a war on terrorism will be as successful as
the war on drugs (total failure). In fact, I would be as bold as to
say that fighting a war on terrorism will only make it worse. Its
like trying to spray water at a grease fire.

What I'm trying to say is that I believe someone like Kerry will do
LESS damage (not be a better president or a better person) to this
country than President Bush. For one thing, an idiot like Gerald Ford
did less damage during his presidency (probably because he did less
overall). Nixon himself even did less damage to the country, although
he probably would have liked to given the opportunity. Difference
between Nixon and Bush's people is very simple: Nixon got caught.
Bush hasn't yet.

I said one thing (among many others) to my dad right before this war
with Iraq was about to get underway. I said regardless of what I
personally think about reasons and rationale, about threats perceived
and real, the historical record will reveal to all in due time the
true intentions behind the prosecution of this war. When I said that,
I thought it would take 15-20 years for all the facts to come out.
Well, its only been two years and I think there are already enough
facts for historians to sum it all up pretty accurately, and it
doesn't look good for those of us in the voting population of the
United States of America.

When a baseball team doesn't perform well, they can the manager. When
a football team goes under .500 and was supposed to make the can the head coach and the GM. We've had a losing
record for 4 years now Ted, and regardless of what you think of Kerry
or Bush, its one or the other and I don't want another 4 like the last

I've said my piece for now, have a good election day and I hope to
hear from you after we get the outcome. I'm taking the day off work
(as are some friends of mine) so we can have some discussions about
the issues, about policy, and about the future of our country, because
I'm going to be here for awhile and I'd like to see this country
fulfill its role in the grand experiment of democracy.

--rev. m
Monday, September 27, 2004
  Hep hep, hep hep
Come and get it!
Once it's deregulated, it'll be a feeding frenzy.
Sharks in black suits battling burnouts in tiedye.
Soros'll be there, waiting with arms wide open;
Stock to be shelved.
An entire generation's generation breathing a wheezy sigh of relief
And the Fast Food King's 'Divine Right' will be secured another reign
of 10,000 years.
Monday, September 13, 2004
  eternally crass
Motherblog you bloggerfucker!
Thursday, September 09, 2004
remember when music television played music and talking about healthy forests meant that you were trying NOT to log them?

remember when lemonade had real lemons in it?

remember when politicians weren't to be trusted?

remember when we went to war only when we had to?

remember when the rest of the world wanted to be Americans rather than kill Americans?

remember when we were supposed to "just say no" or better yet "just do it" ? ? ?

remember when the biggest of crooks said "i am not a crook" ?

remember when parachute pants were the coolest thing this side of vanilla's ice?

remember when most of your friends weren't on some sort of prescription?

remember when a dime bag used to cost a dime?

remember free love?

what does it cost now?

--rev. m
Home place with writes from guys both one Meduri Preacher. Two healer of Donkies. E-mail with question.

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