A Friend

“A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one’s heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.” ~Arabian Proverb~
Loch Lomond

Loch Lomond (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been sifting through the feelings and pictures of friends. Many of the most dear friends are lost to me. The ones I
am thinking of have been women. I have shared love of body and soul with them. We have built love together, bestowing our gifts as time; it is always a path of learning. Pain and transition affect our friendships, but so much remains, lingers – traces of scent and vision, whispers of dreams, harmony, song.

I miss my friends. I trust in our lives. I trust in the life Gods lives through our breath. I pray for friends past, for lovers lost, for small hopes, and restorations. Without Proverbs… where would we be?

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Sacrifice & Simulacra

Today is Good Friday. I have been thinking of Easter this week. I will hide Easter eggs tomorrow for the kids at Glide Church. I’m genuinely excited about this. I’ve also been joking with friends that this is the day Christians connect with their form of Zombie – ism.

There’s more though. I have been glancing at my notes from Baudrillard – Jean Baudrillard, d. March 6, 2007, was a French intellectual, activist, and writer. His writing has always captured me. I think its the combination of philosophy and ascetics that really attracted me to his perspectives – the craving for postmodern insight and wit. Perhaps I’m just another American intellectual with an affinity for my French brethren – the kind who end up writing commentaries on America – anything to remind me how full of shit I am while at the same time admitting my exceptionalism. Not to mention the philosophical contribution the Wachowski Brother’s (former brothers – hasn’t one of them undergone a sex change?) drew from to create the watershed film – The Matrix. Oh, Baudrillard…

Only in the postmodern age do we hide Easter Eggs to remind our children that Jesus Christ died for our sins and rose from the grave on the third day. It is not anything but postmodern. It is not religion. It is not endearing or even an interesting myth. It is simulacrum. It is a copy of a copy. It is nihilism at its best. Perhaps this sounds a bit exaggerated. I’ll admit I’m wrong. Though, perhaps it is better to encounter perspectives that dislocate common understand. I’m suggesting you follow me here – over here. Where the real becomes the revelation of the hyperreal.

It is torture that we are talking about. With Easter the hyperreal unfolds; it is the magnitude of mourning, the force of loss and disappearance; it is the death of a God; the irredeemable absence for which an enduring people establish rights of passage, forms of liturgy, organization of Church, confession of sin, and in the end a magic of successive, complying symbloage – a simularum.

In the material age our culture sacrifices and effaces the real. It erects its symbol and consumes its repetition.   Now we have the heart of Christ’s message – the gift of love, of grace means death is valid, irrevocable, worthy, necessary. It is the simulation and the simulacrum. And in our current age it is, as Baudrillard writes:  the phantasm of revolution.”[1]

A bit more:

“Never again will the real have the chance to produce itself…leaving room only for the orbital recurrence of models and for the simulated generation of differences…a gigantic simulacrum—not unreal, but a simulacrum, that is to say never exchanged for the real, but exchanged for itself, in an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference.”[1]

I would like to continue… to say a bit more about the America holiday and sacrifice. But I’ll end here because its late. I’ve given you a dose of Baudrillard, mediated by me…

[1] Ibid.  2,3,6.

[1] Ibid. 152.

There seems to be a sacrificial allurement embedded in our culture. The Easter momentum. The history of Christianity summarized as a memorial and fulfillment of passover. Today is the day that the Lord has made. The lingering resonance of an event I invested time in believing. A central symbol, whose meaning has become unreal.