I am unabashedly crippled. I am not “disabled”, not “physically challenged”, not “differently-abled”. I have tried all of the politically correct euphemisms for disability to describe myself as a person with cerebral palsy and none of them seem to fit. The truth is there is nothing politically correct about my limp. I am crippled.
In 1981, at the age of six, I had my first “corrective” surgery. It included a lengthening of my Achilles’ tendons in both legs and a rotation of my hips. This surgery sounds relatively benign when described in medical terms, but it is to this day the most incredibly painful experience of my life. A second surgery followed in 1987 and it was almost as invasive and painful as the first.
These operations were in no way medically necessary. They were merely attempts by my doctors to “normalize” a poor disabled child by making me walk more like everyone else. Medicine has developed a plan to “rehabilitate” the disabled individual so that the individual can live a more “normal” life. I am not certain if the acceptable image is Michael Jordan or Joe Average, but it is clear that having a disability puts me and many others outside the acceptable range of options. Click to continue reading ““Disabled” or “crippled?””
Wired reports on a new plan for the first Mars colony. Nifty graphics too.
If you haven’t read Kim Stanley Robinson’s Red Mars yet, it’s not too late to add it to your summer reading list.
Anything Philocrites can do It’s in the water or something. Or I just let Guest MyIronist #1 talk me into yet another clever scheme. (Don’t let him talk you into biodeisel—he doesn’t even drive.) But the pace here at MyIrony HQ should be picking up considerably as we welcome two guest bloggers to our esteemed pages.
Guest MyIronist #1:
Raised by a millionaire ditch digger amidst the hardscrabble plains of Western Oklahoma, this grandson of a Pentecostal preacher never had enough faith to accept his healing from baby Jesus—he walks crippled to this day. Though his daddy told him nobody would pay him to talk for a living, the Silver Tongued Devil is quickly mastering the fine art of begging alms from those who would see him as "God’s special little angel." Don’t pity him, he’s here to collect.
Guest MyIronist #2:
All she ever wanted was to be a priest, but Pope Maledict and his kind saw to it that would never happen. Exiled from her people, Mary Mother of Beer is well traveled: she is familiar with the back streets of Babylon, the hills of Appalachia, and the bus route tenements of the hood. Now she seeks refuge among arrogant PhDs and spoiled children of privilege, trying to teach them to play nice with the Other. So raise a pint to Mary—it’s time for her new tattoo.
MyIrony’s Unitarian Univeralist readers should take note: while both guest bloggers are uus (j’accuse!), they are not UUs. Inquiring minds want to know.
MyIrony’s nonUU readers may find themselves relieved for the reprieve from Chutney’s ongoing UU posting binge. Stay tuned.
Evil Chutney will no doubt be making his usual sporadic appearances. Not that we can do anything about that.
Thom Belote, a guest Philocriteer, is asking if there could be anything like an "emergent UUism."
• Is Emergent a style/form or a theology/theological process or both or something else?
• Would an Emergent-style UU church work?
• If so, would such a UU-Emergent church need to be grounded in U/U/UU Christian theology, or could such a church work with a theology that wasn’t Christianity-based?
• If our congregations could learn one thing from a place like Jacob’s Well, what would that be?
Then, in comments, Clyde Grubbs makes this excellent observation:
Based on my observation, congregations like those in the Emergent network develop a coherent story of freedom and liberation based on the Biblical narratives.
If a Unitarian Universalist group decided to build a church on such a model, the founding group would need to covenant around a set of stories to create a narrative of freedom and liberation, and develop its various ministries to bring those stories to life in people’s lives.
Click to continue reading “Emergent UU worship, take 2”
I heard stories, but I didn’t believe them. Now I know it’s true, all too true.
Cut the meat away from the membranes with a sharp knife. Discard the membranes.
No, thank you, I already ate.
