I am no Texan, thank god. But I will endorse Kinky Friedman for governor of the Lone Star State. (New Yorker write-up here.)
My favorite Kinky quote? “The Kinkster never likes to say ‘fuck’ in front of a c-h-i-l-d.” Second favorite? "May the god of your choice bless you."
Can I be Kinky when I grow up? That shit’ll preach.
The "Unitarian Jihad" ad campaign we waged this summer has now come to the end of its financial life. Thanks to donations from several of you, we got almost 1500 clicks from 40K views of our ad. This gave us a click-through rate of 3.5%, at about a nickel a click.
So that’s 1500 netizens over four months who found out a little something more about our movement—all for the cost of two cheap seats, beer and hot dogs at a Braves game. Not bad.
Two questions:
1. Did anyone run into someone who visited your congregation because of this ad campaign?
2. Has anyone had luck with Google ads (or similar) for their local congregation? Seems like a good targeted ad could go a long way…
Thanks to our donors for making all this happen!
It’s been over a week now since my last day on the job, and it occurs to me that a fellow might should have a good explanation at the ready for something like that—especially when he cashes out his 401k and has no job offer in hand.
Decisions like this are never made for just one reason. But as much as I’ve gone on here about the importance of weaving new narratives about our lives, I’m going to try and resist just numbering off a list of reasons. I hope what follows turns out to be something of a story. Click to continue reading “Why did I quit?”
Blogging may be slower over the next few weeks. Mary Mother of Beer is on vacation right now and will post for the first time after she’s back. The Silver Tongued Devil will be heading to Jerusalem mid-month, and while he hopes to post from the Holy City, we know how those things go. My folks are coming in town for a visit later this week, so I might be scarce for a bit. But between the three of us, there should still be a steady trickle of posts.
I went to see Murderball this weekend with the Silver Tongued Devil, and, dammit, now I want to play quad rugby.
The Silver Tongued Devil is probably going to post more on it himself, so I’m going to try to limit my comments. But what impressed me most was how this flagrantly aggressive, even violent, sport was a vehicle for the redemption of so many of the film’s quadraplegics and their friends and family.
One subplot of the film follows a paralyzed Keith Cavill—recently injured in a motorcross accident—as he learns the rudiments of physical independence again: tying his shoes, eating, getting dressed. When Team USA star Mark Zupan visits Keith’s rehab center, Keith is visibly in awe of the video Zupan plays of his team.
Zupan invites Keith to try out his custom built rugby wheelchair, and we see a change come over him. Keith, who is still struggling to master his own wheelchair, asks Zupan several times if it’s really okay to hit something with it. Zupan tells him to hit his chair (which he’s sitting in). Ever so gently, Keith bumps up against Zupan, over the protests of his social worker and physical therapist. A huge smile lights up Keith’s face. He tries it again and again.
Later in the film, we see Keith racing a toddler’s tricyle down the street. Keith is training to play quad rugby now, and he’s saving up for his own rugby wheelchair.
We liberals don’t usually like to think that much good (or any good) can come of aggression. But as Mary Midgley points out, aggression—like sex, hunger and fear—is a natural, innate human motive. And, like any other natural motive, aggression is good when it is balanced and appropriate. Those who deny this would deprive Keith Cavill of his redemption. I, for one, am not willing to tell Keith to be a nice quad and drop his dream of playing murderball.
Murderball opens in Atlanta today. I first heard about the movie after it won awards at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year. I have read some dynamite reviews. You should definitely go see it if you have the opportunity. I’m definitely going. It could help in a small way to explode the myth that people who live with disabilites ought to be recipients of paternalism and pity.
