Matt W Cook

writer.former fundamentalist.christianly fellow

Category: musings

January 25, 2012

Your Life is a Story

Source: xkcd

     Your life is a story.

     Is it boring?
Would it make the Reader yawn and want to skip pages just to get to the end?

     Is it irrelevant?
Would it make the Reader wonder why he bought the book in the first place?

     Is it selfish?
Would it annoy the Reader with its blatant narcissism?

Or

     Is it heroic?
Would it make the Reader cheer as you go about your quests for justice?

     Is it authentic?
Would it make the Reader look at his own heart to see if he is living an honest life, like you are?

     Is it lovely?
Would the Reader smile with joy as he seems the world in the shining light that you see it in?

     Is it important?
Would it change the Reader and make his world a better place?

     Everyone you meet is a Reader. Do they believe your story?

1 Comment
January 18, 2012

Can You Spell SOPA?

     Wikipedia’s down. xkcd, too. Go see if you don’t believe me. A lot of web sites are protesting this bill called SOPA. It’s creating a lot of on-line tension.

     Protests like this tend to produce knee-jerk reactions. Have you noticed that? Do you know what SOPA is? Or PIPA? Odds are, you don’t know the ins and outs of it. Most people don’t, unless you count a quick glance through a wikipedia article. But that didn’t stop you from forming an opinion as soon as you saw people protesting about it, did it?

     Maybe it did. Maybe you’re one of those rare people who thinks things through and gathers information before you decide to oppose or support something. If you are that kind of person, I thank you. You are saving the world.

     But let’s be honest, most of us don’t do that.

     When the Occupy Movement was at the height of its power, most folks did not take the time to understand it or its goals. They just rejected it (if they leaned to the right) or fully embraced it (if they leaned to the left).

     The same thing happens at most elections. Folks just vote for the party that has the honour of being listed in the ‘good guy’ section of their brains. And they are opposed to politicians and preachers who are in the ‘bad guy’ section.

     It’s hard to be informed, though. Most issues are complicated and it takes more than a quick skim through a web site to get an honest grasp on things. No one is obligate to get informed, of course. But I just think that if I can’t be bothered to understand things, I probably don’t really have the right to argue with people about them.

     I think SOPA is a bad and dangerous idea that will hurt the Internet. But don’t take my word for it. Read about it yourself. And then take action.

1 Comment
January 16, 2012

Stuff I Like

  • Crunchy snow on a black night
  • Bollywood music
  • A book that makes me care
  • Honest, open, vulnerable conversations about spiritual things
  • Dressing funny
  • Mill St. Organic Lager
  • Anything Joss Whedon makes
  • Colouring books
  • Pad Thai
  • My son’s passion
  • Puzzles
  • Solving a difficult problem on my own
  • The sun
  • Singing in the car
  • Role-playing games
  • Avocado and tomato sandwiches with a slice of havarti
  • Dreams
  • My daughter’s stories
  • Large-scale battles with cardboard weapons
  • Flow
  • Khan Academy
  • New ideas that would change the world if only we weren’t so scared to try them
  • Everything Jesus said
  • Churches with large sanctuaries
  • Staying up all night laughing with people I love
  • My wife’s empowerment
  • My itty-bitty notebook
  • A good BM
  • Sencha fuka-midori
  • Change
  • Witty remarks
  • You

What do you like?

1 Comment
January 13, 2012

Subway Evangelists

     A Muslim evangelist approached me while I was waiting for my subway today. He handed me a book and tried to get me interested in his religion. I told him I had lived in Pakistan and he thought that was pretty cool. He told me that Pakistan, in his opinion, was not a good example of a Muslim country.
     “Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “They have great family values there, unlike here in Canada.”
     “Okay.”
     “But the problem is all the Hindus.”
     “Oh. Wait, what?”
     “And Afghanistan used to be a good Muslim country, until the Americans removed the Taliban.”
     “Huh?”
     “Now only Saudi Arabia is any good.”
     “…”

     My train came and I made my getaway. I flipped through the book he gave me. It was about how capital punishment is merciful and condoms deny women the honour of motherhood.

     I threw it out at the next stop.

     Getting on the bus, I started reading Tina Fey’s Bossypants. She talked about a high school health teacher she once had who spent a day educating the class on how to recognize and avoid homosexuals. Because they are ruining the world, of course.

It’s the Hindus’ fault.
It’s the gays’ fault.
Blah blah blah.

     I remember giving myself a tour of my son’s elementary school. I saw a poster on the ground, obviously torn off the wall and defaced. It had named the school a safe zone for people of all races, religions and sexual orientations. I guess some people don’t like the idea of making the world safe for people who walk different paths.

     It’s all so silly, though, isn’t it?

     Every group claims they want to see peace on earth and goodwill toward men. But only on their terms. Peace, so long as you become us instead of them. Peace, so long as you stop being so gorram different.

     I used to think that the only way to peace was if everyone in the world stopped being whatever they were, and became more like me. My religion. My sexuality. My philosophies of government and economy. It was straight, Christian, conservative, capitalism or bust. And I spent many, many hours trying to get people to switch sides.

     But what if we put these labels aside and recognized each other as fellow humans, first? Instead of blaming the Hindus or homosexuals for whatever problems we see, what if we just shut up and gave peace a chance? What if we all just got along?

     Cliche? Simplistic? Maybe. But I heard a clever guy once say that we should, so far as it depends on us, be at peace with everyone. So I’m not going to blame out social ills on this religion or that lifestyle. Instead, I figure I’m going to be the change I want to see, open my arms in fellowship to everyone, and be at peace with all people.

     Blaming other groups is easy and cathartic. But it does little more than generate more hate and animosity. And we have enough of that in the world, already.

3 Comments
January 2, 2012

Nothing Resolved

     Here is my list of this New Year’s resolutions:

     As you can tell, my chances for success are high.

     I don’t do resolutions. Historically, they have hurt my chances of doing the things I want to do.

     Here’s what usually happens to people like me: At the dawn of a new year, I write up an admirable list of things I want to accomplish. Stuff about getting into shape, producing something creative and reaching some spiritual milestone. I make an action plan, tell my friends, print some motivational posters and am sprinting off the blocks.

     It goes well for a few weeks. Then, in a sudden, dark moment, I stop caring. I fail once.

     I remember the failure the next day. I still know how it tastes and I cannot shake the knowledge that I failed my resolution. I keep trying for a while, but it’s tainted now. By March, it’s all a memory.

     So I stopped making resolutions. Instead, I create habits.

     Habits grow naturally if you cultivate them. Resolutions, like stone walls, tend to crack.

     To write a book, I don’t sit down and resolve to do it. Instead, I habitually write.

     It started slow. First I’d write a couple times a month. I was never bothered that I didn’t write more because I had not resolved anything. There was no standard to give me guilt. After a while, I was writing a couple times a week. Now I write every single day. The habit has formed. There was no need for resolutions. In fact, had I made resolutions, I would have been depressed in the beginning that I was only writing a few times a month. And that would have weakened my resolve and the goal might have died.

     I generally succeed in the things I want to succeed at. And that’s a special thing. Because most people just dream of the things they want to have in their lives.

     Each and every second is new. January 1st is a date we made up. We might as well call April 16th at 4:34pm the new year. Your new start is whenever you want it to be. Make a new habit.

2 Comments
December 30, 2011

Writing with Mom

     I’m going to a writer’s conference in May. I went last year. It was a blast. You should come.

     I went alone last year. It was fun, but I wanted company this time. So I called my mom. That’s right, my mom. I can hear the snickers from all those cool guys who never brought their loci of identity inside.

     I feel bad for those cool guys. Because it’s never very fun to be cool. When you’re cool you can’t be yourself. When you’re cool, you can’t hang out with your mom. Because hanging out with your mom is decidedly uncool.

     I’ve wondered why. Why don’t people hang out with their parents? I mean, sure everyone gets together around holidays and stuff. But I go to coffee shops and conferences with my mom and I go camping and hiking with my dad. We hang out. We do stuff. Like buddies. I get the impression that other people don’t do those things with their parents.

     I can’t say for sure, because I’ve only had one set of parents, but I think mine are just generally more fun than most. My mom is into literature and geocaching and fiction. My dad is into computers and film and outdoorsy stuff. It’s just fun to be with them. And I think that all us siblings feel the same way.

     Remember that time when all the kids were trying to get to Jesus and the oh-so-serious bystanders were trying to stop them? Ever wonder why the kids were trying to get to Jesus? Do you suppose they were thinking, ‘Hey! This is a great teacher who comes bearing the message of light and love.’? Naw. There’s only two ways to get a kid to come to you. One is candy, and I doubt Jesus had much. The other is fun. Jesus must have been fun.

     So after looking at Jesus and my parents, I realize that it’s wildly important that my kids think I’m fun. So I’ll play DDR 2 with my son (though I guess I’d play that even if I didn’t have kids). I’ll colour pictures with my daughter. I’ll build a snow fort. I’ll wrestle on the ground. I’ll stand in the frozen park across the road watching my kids play on the monkey bars. Whatever it takes to make it so that when my kids are 29 and they want to go to a writer’s conference or a weekend trip, they invite me. Whatever it takes.

4 Comments
December 28, 2011

Cloak and Dagger

     My wife blew my mind with this year’s Christmas gift. She bought me a cloak. It’s amazing. It’s a woolen, brown winter cloak that reaches to my ankles and is warmer than any coat I’ve owned. It’s the perfect thing for winter. Best gift ever.

     But not everyone thinks so.

     You see, when you dress funny, people stare. I’ve always dressed a little funny, but I’m getting the impression that the cloak crosses a line. The stares are pretty blatant now. And not all of them are amused.

     So what do I do? What do I do when I walk through the grocery store, cloak flowing behind me, and kids start laughing? When old men roll their eyes? When people stare with that look that says ‘What’s wrong with that guy?’

     I smile, give my cloak a bit of a flourish, and move on.

     Because I wear clothes for only two purposes: Function and Fun. I don’t dress for strangers. I don’t care if people think I look like an idiot. Wearing a cloak is fun. You know it is! Everyone wishes they could wear a cloak. But nearly everyone is too afraid.

     Fear is dirty. Fear cripples every good thing you wish you could do. Especially creative things like writing and clothing.

     For a brief, tiny moment I wondered if I shouldn’t wear this cloak outdoors. But I knew that since I loved it, I had no choice. Because all the harsh stares in the world are nothing compared to the suffering of the man who makes his decisions based on what others will think of him.

     So I wear a cloak when it’s cold outside. And I write my book the way I want it written. And I live my life the way I want to live it. Anything else is dishonest. And woe to the man who is dishonest to himself for the sake of pleasing the world. That man lives a shallow life. That man lives a boring life. That man wastes his life. That man needs to read this comic from xkcd, pour his true heart onto a piece of paper and get himself a cloak.

7 Comments
December 21, 2011

Dirty Words

There are some words that put my teeth on edge. I guess everyone has words that do that to them. My list is pretty unique, though. I hear these words nearly each day. I’d love to stamp them out.

  • Can’t. This is the f-bomb for Matt Cook. I would rather my kids use profanity than hear them say ‘I can’t do this.’ or ‘I can’t be that.’ Can’t is a cage. Can’t is a poison. Can’t is a lie. The dirtiest kind of lie. Can’t is the abuse disablers throw at the people who drop keys for beautiful, rowdy prisoners. Can’t says that the God-spark in us is weak. And that’s blasphemy, as far as I’m concerned.
  • Never. This is the slightly more subtle cousin of can’t. He’s a bastard, too. And arrogant. Never is a closed door that claims there is nothing on the other side. Never is the unjust hyperbole a man uses when arguing with his wife. How many conversations have turned toxic when one person says ‘You never help me. You never listen. You never…’ Never is a hammer. It’s useful in precious few situations. In most cases it just hurts people.
  • Hate. If never is a hammer, hate is a bomb. When you tell me that you hate olives or cheese or Justin Bieber, you are telling me that everything in your soul is set against that thing. You are telling me that, if you could work your will, you’d destroy that thing. And I would weep if you succeeded at getting rid of the world’s olives, even though I don’t care for them. Because some people do. Because Justin Bieber, despite whatever you think of his music, is a human soul, shining with the light of God. Because there is almost nothing in the world so vile that it is worthy of hate. In fact, one of the only things we have to hate, is hate itself.
  • Stupid. When a man refuses to use understanding when dealing with a difficult idea or person, he runs to this word. And he gets used to using it. Suddenly everyone is stupid. Trouble at work? Boss is stupid. Trouble in the government? Politicians are stupid. Trouble in the wide world? All those strange cultures and philosophies and religions are stupid. Suddenly everyone is stupid. Except me, of course. I’m clever as a fox.
3 Comments
December 19, 2011

Consumerism, Goats and Vile Persecution

     Tis the season to be whiny.

     Sorry, was that negative? I didn’t mean it to be.

     But it’s hard to miss during the festive seasons. Which is too bad, because I was raised thinking this time of year was about the greatest gift we ever got: Love in the shape of a baby.

     And I can’t really point at anyone else and blame them for the complaining that marks December. It’s my own tribe. And there are two things you’ll be sure to hear us whine about until the new year.

     First, we’ll whine about how the rampant consumerism has utterly destroyed the message of Christmas. We’ll complain about the sex-driven ads, the ridiculous rushes at the malls, the blatant love of stuff and money.

     All the while, we shop with the rest of them.

     If malls are temples to the great and terrible gods of commerce and materialism, the folks in my Christian tribe are just as devout as anyone.

     My wife is using her wild, love-filled i117 project to fight consumerism. She’s buying goats for widows in Pakistan to help them get enough income to feed their families. Go to her facebook group or send her an e-mail if you want to help battle Christmas consumerism with her!

     Second, we complain about how no one says ‘Merry Christmas’ anymore.

     Seen this comic before? It floats around every year. Of course, no one ever gets sent to the Principal’s office for saying Christmas (sidenote: notice how the two on the left are dressed like punks and the poor, persecuted Christian boy is oh-so-spiffy?). Doomsayers have been predicting this kind of ‘persecution’ since the 80s, but it still hasn’t happened. And, no, the elimination of the state-sponsored promotion of Christianity does not count as persecution.

     Guess what? Jesus is not threatened by folks who celebrate other holidays around the Solstice. He’s just not. He’s more secure in himself. And I’m not threatened by people who wish me a happy holiday. I say thanks, and wish that all their holidays are happy, too. Whichever holidays that might be.

     Because the cause of Jesus (love, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, tolerance) is not furthered by us whining about how good our religion used to have it back when we ran the show. It’s furthered by rejecting consumerism and intolerance both.

     And now I’ll quickly hang a lantern on this post and acknowledge that I’m whining, too. But, at the very least, I’m whining about something different.

Now go buy some goats!

2 Comments
December 16, 2011

Who’s Versatile?

Me!

The talented K.L. Schengel over at My Random Muse has just awarded me with The Versatile Blogger Award. It’s a sexy little thing that’s running around the Internet, helping bloggers share their favorite blogs. Here are the rules that come with winning:

  • Thank the blogger who nominated you. Thanks!
  • Share seven bits of information about yourself.
  • Pass the award to fifteen blogs you have been enjoying lately and let them know.

My Seven Things:

  • I value love and understanding above everything else.
  • I’m a vegetarian.
  • I have stretchy skin.
  • In high school I was in a club whose only activity was watching anime during lunch in the art room.
  • My wife and I still watch anime.
  • I’ve lived in rural Pakistan, speak Urdu and have delivered a baby water buffalo.
  • On a camping trip I have tried sewing my own wound with fishing line and a safety pin. Didn’t work.

The Blogs I Like to Read:

3 Comments