praise jesus' hellish name

Whenever I'm absent from blogging for awhile, it means I'm either busy or depressed or away. I'm not depressed lately -- fortunately -- nor have I been out of town -- unfortunately, though I do have a trip planned to Nashville in October, which I'm looking forward to. When I'm busy, it's either with writing or with work. Lately, I've been extremely busy, more so with work than writing. In fact I'd kind of taken a break from the novel because I was getting bogged down. But I managed to get down several pages of chapter eighteen, "august chagrin," the titular chapter, just last night. I never was completely satisfied with chapter sixteen, but I had to just leave it be and move on. S is my first editor, and this was his advice, and he's been reading through what I've got so far and has encouraged me to not give up and to not get stuck. The first draft of chapter seventeen was already done so I moved onto eighteen, and would say I got a third of it written down last night. That feels good.

I've been busy with work and busy with the housing project. Yesterday the concrete columns got poured. M called me at about ten a.m. to say the cement truck was on its way and to apologize that they hadn't given us a little more notice. The transcription queue at work is very full, and there were several "emergency transcripts" that had to be done this weekend, but I finished the last of those this morning, so we're in good shape.

I videotaped the pouring of the concrete; S probably would have preferred to film it himself, but he was out late the night before and still asleep when I rushed out of the house to get to M&J's before the cement truck arrived. As it turned out, I barely had time to get the camera out before the truck turned the corner. I think I got some good footage, but we'll see about that when S starts editing(!).

We spread the leftover cement in the driveway where the bigger dips were. And then J, Little P and B (J's friend who's helping him with the welding, digging, clearing, etc.) went for a burger and I came home to transcribe some more. M mentioned that she'd gotten the film Jesus Camp from Netflix and asked if I wanted to watch it with her. I'd already seen it -- though I was more than interested in seeing it again -- but S had not, he said he wanted to, so he and I put all the beer from our fridge into a canvas bag (so we wouldn't have to go to the store), picked up a couple of pizzas from East Side Pies (seriously the best pizza in Austin) and headed over at about seven. We ate then got super-stoned and watched the movie, which was a great way to watch Jesus Camp (really, it's the best way to watch any film!).

I was struck again by how reminiscent of my childhood Jesus Camp is, with preteen kids speaking in tongues and proselytizing to complete strangers-- I did that shit! While the others in the room were saying, "Oh my god" at the weird antics of the Christian families, I was feeling a little woozy about my life not all that long ago. When I was a kid, we said the Pledge of Allegiance to the Christian Flag, and back then, it seemed pretty routine. Watching in onscreen last night sounded a little more cultish, made me think that it's not all that different for Nazi youth who did their special pledges and prayers, etc.

It's an amazing film equally for those us who were raised Evangelical and for those who were
not. For those of you who were not, and think that perhaps some of the scenes were faked for the camera, I swear to god that they are very realistic, truthful representations of that lifestyle.

Since the movie came out, the camp that the movie was named for was shut down amid threats by locals. That's a relief; believe me, nine- and ten-year-old kids don't know what they're doing in the area of Evangelism, and the damage done because of that lifestyle will last for many years, if not their lifetime. I think I escaped because my father died when I was sixteen and because I'm a homosexual -- in that order. It makes me appreciate a little more my accomplishments in life.