My Tumultuous Transitional Decade

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It is hard to believe that another decade has already come and gone. This past decade has been one of many transitions for me, from the launch of this blog in 2014 to a big change in career a few years later and, on top of all that, a departure from the only religious identity I had ever known for another.

It was a decade marked by an extreme of faith, the high-water mark of my spiritual life, leading to the most profound of disappointments and suicidal despair, all followed by a rise again from the ashes. If there is such a thing as living a second life, a life after death, then I am living proof of that concept despite the scars.

Delusion, Disappointment and Divine Humor

This blog was started, mid-decade, to be a record of my journey and also a story of the triumph of faith within a Mennonite context. However, things did not go as anticipated, my enthusiasm was not shared by those who had the power to make a difference, and my misplaced faith ended up being fully exposed by the end of it all. That was the lowest of lows for me.

However, even in my lowest moments, in the midst of that, there was a moment of levity where my sharing my disgruntlement with the impossible Mennonite marriageability expectations went viral. That remains my most viewed and shared Irregular Ideation blog to date (and recently vastly eclipsed by a blog on another blog I curate) and my proof that God does indeed have a sense of humor.

Somehow, surprisingly, my influence within the Mennonite denomination would peak with my candid expressions of frustration with the religious culture that came with my departure. A couple of my serious blogs, decrying fundamentalist influence and another discussing the role of ritual and tradition, even found their way into Mennonite World Review and an Old Order email group.

It would be hard to give that up. And I knew the newfound popularity of my blog would likely suffer once I formally announced my departure from Anabaptism—which does seem to be the case as traffic has diminished since then—but that is also the kind of sacrifice that a Christian commitment requires:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26‭ NIV)

For the first time in my life, I had left the comfort of the Anabaptist fishbowl for something bigger. Who knows what that will bring?

Dramatic Changes and Delicious Ironies

The move to Orthodoxy has been part of a huge paradigm shift and was pretty much the only option that I had left. It was a refuge to preserve the little faith that survived the collision with a terrible reality of my misplaced hopes. I certainly didn’t go to replace what had been devastated in me. And there are all of the problems found in every group of Christians from those recorded in the book of Acts onward—all of the silly squabbles and turf wars included.

Nevertheless, the beauty of Orthodox worship, the focus on Scripture and glorifying God in our song (rather than human emotion, etc) along with a simple (and timeless) Gospel message, helped me to move forward. Orthodox worship centers on our Communion together with God and (unlike the traditions I was most familiar with as a Protestant) they do not attempt to explain the explainable. At some point, we need to let go of our own understanding and embrace the mysteries beyond our comprehension.

Moving on from religion to real estate and other miscellaneous items, I started the decade paying down my debt for my first home and driving cars that probably belonged in a scrapyard. But then, in 2014, spurred by my other and disappointments, I bought my first new car, paid cash for a handsome black Ford Focus—my best purchase to date. In fact, I was so pleased with that purchase that I sold my prized (but high mileage) Jaguar XJR and bought a brand new Shelby GT-350 two years later when they first came out—an extravagant purchase which also led to some very meaningful friendships.

Anyhow, having reached the pinnacle of automotive excellence (at least for a working man’s salary) it was time to rest comfortably, save my money and relax a bit. Or, rather, that had been the plan…

But somehow (possibly working in an office with a bunch of restless Amish investors rubbing off on me?) I ended up buying a second property with the thought (at the time of purchase) that I would move in to and sell my old place in Milton. But suddenly that plan didn’t make sense anymore, why not rent the new house and build some equity instead? Needless to say, my ideas for a comfortable existence went out the window and, only two years later, now I’m working on house number three. Not exactly a business empire, yet more than calculated risk than I’ve ever taken on before.

In the time since my blinding hopes ran into a young Mennonite woman’s all-consuming ambitions, my feet have landed in three different countries (read more here and here) and all on the opposite side of the world. As it turns out, despite my self-doubts, all that I really needed was a good enough reason to go. I had started the decade thinking that I was incapable of finding my own direction in life, that I needed to hitch myself to someone else’s ambitions to get anywhere, and yet here I am moving on. Yes, very soon, echoing the central complaint of the young woman who rejected my offer of the impossible love, I will no longer be thirty years old living in Milton.

Where False Devotion Fails, True Love Prevails

I was wrong to hope to find the kind of love that is only possible with faith within the Mennonite context.*

That said, I was right about one thing: It is only that kind of love could ever motivate me to do anything worthwhile with my life.

Truly I did nothing, over the past few years, on the strength of my own effort. No, I’ve needed physical therapists, family, spiritual fathers, sisters, and brothers. Not to mention those friends on the road who made my loneliness bearable, also those who know my name at the various establishments that I frequent, my generous current employer and the many others who have positively impacted my life over the past decade. To all those people I owe a debt of gratitude.

However, there is one who has been there for me unlike any other, the one who didn’t lose hope in me despite my delusions and attachments to Mennonite dogma; the one who told to be strong for her, to get out of bed and go to church again. Everything I’ve done over the past few years would not have been possible apart from the investment of faith that she has made in me. She, as a person who has experienced her own personal misfortune, showed more love for me than those who claim to travel the world as a display of their Christian love.

In this coming decade, I plan to spend far less time trying to please the falsely pious and proud, who can’t be pleased and are obsessed with their own image, and more time with the downtrodden and truly humble.

That is the vision behind FACT, an organization of one, so far, that has already given me some hope that my seemingly divergent strengths and interests can finally be combined into something useful and good. I hope the vision of FACT will soon grow into concrete steps towards truly meaningful actions and compassionate solutions for OFWs and their families. But that, of course, will take more than my own personal efforts and I hope there will be others willing to put aside their doubts and help those who are already doing all they can do to better themselves.

*Mennonites, like people of all established religious traditions, are really good at carrying out their own particular programs and denominational prescriptions. Similar to their Anabaptist cousins more known for their barn-raisings, Mennonites love to help in disaster relief projects. They will also dutifully staff and fund their own private schools (or homeschool if they are more trendy) and now even travel the world as missionaries. All good things, I suppose. But all those things do not require any real faith on the part of Mennonite individuals, they are a cultural inheritance, a good way to find a romantic partner, an acceptable path to rise through the ranks, and are not truly sacrificial acts of faith or love.

Entering Into A Strange New World

In the past decade, my plans got turned upside down. I gave up on old dreams and, from the wreckage of my hopes, found some new vision. Had anyone said, ten years ago, that I would have three properties, traveled to the opposite side of the world, and converted to Orthodoxy, I would have probably laughed at them. But here I am, having started a journey to the impossibility and ended up here, perplexed.

We started the decade with a president who would seem more comfortable in a lecture hall and ended it with a persona built for professional wrestling, reality television, and trolling on Twitter. Yet, contrary to popular opinion or at least in contrast to the fears of half the population, the earth has not fallen from orbit nor has the moon disappeared from the night sky, life has gone on. Albeit, my assumptions, the idea that our political decisions are rationally based, had to change overnight. Scott Adams has persuaded me.

My identity, my religious and political paradigm, has changed very significantly in the past decade. I’ve witnessed the passing of my last remaining grandmother in 2017, one of my dad’s brothers also died in a logging accident mid-decade and then, uncle Roland, a man who had helped to facilitate my stay in the Philippines, was murdered.

Over the same time, I’ve been processing the battle with cancer of a younger cousin and good friend, who just finished college and plans to marry soon, who already sacrificed a leg (in the past year) and now has new growths in his lungs.

So the fight will continue for him as it does for all of us.

One day at a time.

None of us knows what trials we will face in the next decade and yet need to continue to live in faith. I hope to be done with my inventory taking, soon break free of the transitional time I am presently still in, and finally have some of those long-awaited triumphs that have eluded me in certain areas of my life. But, at the end of it all, I can’t really tell you what this next decade will hold, whether Trump will win in 2020 or if there will even be a year 2030.

There is no point in getting stressed out about what we can’t know. Our life is a vapor, it appears for a little and then it is gone. So make the best of the time you have and don’t worry about tomorrow!

Filipino Christians Forced To Convert, Raped.

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In an article, “Filipino Diaspora: Modern-day Missionaries of the World,” the plight of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) is put in a positive light as a way that the Gospel is being spread throughout the word:

Mary Jane Soriano, a 25-year college-graduate Filipino domestic worker, has been working in Hong Kong for some years. During her stay there, she always made a point to attend the Sunday Mass in a local church, even if her employer and his family belonged to another religion. Besides Mary’s humility, simplicity, hard work, honesty and other human qualities that inevitably impressed her employer is her indomitable Catholic faith the way she practiced—simple ways to keep her life and faith going and always trusting in God and pray daily, and be good and do good to others.

Indeed, God moves in mysterious ways, Christianity swept through the Roman empire as “a religion of woman and slaves” (probably because it gave hope to these disenfranchised people) and in that way this diaspora of Filipinos is bringing Christianity to the world. The message of Jesus, and the cross, is that we will suffer for the sake of his kingdom—but that, in the end, the sacrifice we make is going to be rewarded:

“So the last shall be first, the first last.” (Matthew 20:16 KJV)

I have deep respect for those who aren’t missionaries as an extension of their privilege, living in behind compound walls, and entirely supported by the generosity of others. OFWs may indeed be the greatest missionaries of our time.

However, there is also a flipside, according to AsiaNews.it, in an article from 2010:

“In my tens in Saudi Arabia, I have witnessed several Catholic or Christian Filipino migrants accept Islam under duress,” said Joselyn Cabrera, a Filipino Catholic nurse working at Riyadh hospital. Because of high unemployment levels in the Philippines, more than ten million Filipinos have left to seek jobs abroad. Every day, about 3,000 leave the country. Recently, a majority has gone to Arab countries—some 600,000 in all, 200,000 in Saudi Arabia alone.

And continues:

The most recent case involves a woman who was raped at work. Because of the incident, Saudi authorities accused her of unlawful extramarital sex and on 11 September jailed her in the capital.

That doesn’t sound much like missionary service. It sounds like the vulnerable being exploited, forced to convert under duress, and is unacceptable.

Yes, the New Testament is full of stories of Christians ensuring terrible persecution for their faith. Yes, by their example of suffering example Christianity did spread to the world. But, no, that reality does not mean there is not a terrible cost nor does it absolve us of our own responsibility to intervene.

Suffer With Those Who Suffer

We should never allow our brothers and sisters to continue to endure hardships due to our own negligence or lack of compassion. No, as Christians, we are called to be their advocate, to care for them as we would for a member of our own families, and act on their behalf of them—like St Paul did in pleading for Onesimus:

Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love. It is as none other than Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus— that I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains. (Philemon 1:8‭-‬10 NIV)

St Paul, in taking action on behalf of this runaway slave, was practicing what he preached:

If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. (1 Corinthians 12:26 NIV)

This is what it means to be Christian:

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. (Romans 12:9‭-‬16 NIV)

Incidentally, the description “low position” in the passage above means those who do menial tasks. That is to say the domestic worker, the migrant laborer, and all those toiling away in the factories, that make our electronic gadgets, for wages a fraction of our own. We should love them, suffer with them, and share out of our own abundance as need be. Those of us living in peace and prosperity have an obligation to help those who are currently endure terrible circumstances and especially those of the household of faith.

To be a part of the body of Christ means not being too busy with our own lives to care. It means being willing to intervene in love on behalf of OFWs around the world, to carry their cross and be an example of Christ.

Carrying the Cross of the Overseas Worker

We live in a culture that has been Christianized to the point that even secular artists now encourage Christian values. We now act as if compassion for those who are not part of our own biological families, national identity or ethnic tribe and race is something normal. That we should care about these others rather than use them as had been common prior to Christ. Take the lyrics of Pink Floyd’s, “On the Turning Away,” for example:

On the turning away
From the pale and downtrodden
And the words they say
Which we won’t understand
“Don’t accept that what’s happening
Is just a case of others’ suffering
Or you’ll find that you’re joining in
The turning away”

A Christian should never turn away from those in desperate need. We should feel the loneliness of an OFW, as those who are far from home and are separated from their families (including their own young children) for years at a time, and share their sadness. We should think about their fears, mourn the trauma of those who have been sexually assaulted and are being held captive, as slaves, by their abusive employers. We should pray, encourage and absolutely—by all means available to us—work to deliver them from their captivity and bring them home to the families they love.

Sure, it may be the job of the OFW to be a witness to the world of Christ’s love. But it is also our responsibility as fellow Christians, their brothers and sisters in Christ, to be a witness of the Gospel to them by helping to carrying their cross. If Christ himself, according to Scripture, needed help to carry his cross—then how much more does an OFW need our intervention for them? It is for this very purpose that Jesus told the disciples he would go, so that we (who are part of his body and filled with the Holy Spirit) will do greater things in his name.

But What Can We Do?

Many do have compassion. However, the problem is, how do we effectively do anything to change the circumstances for millions of people on the opposite side of the world? Even if we spent every nickel and dime we earned trying to support them and their families it would only help a fraction of those who are in need and it would do absolutely nothing to solve the actual underlying causes of this grim reality for countless Filipino people.

There is not much we as individuals can do as individuals. However there is much we can do in our working together towards a particular end. It is my hope that in my bringing awareness to this issue that others will partner with me, willing to contribute in their own small part, and together we can bring an end to the abuse.

That is why I’ve started the Filipino American Coalition of Trade (FACT) to give opportunity to those who want to make a difference for those who bear the cross as the truest missionaries of our time.

Like and follow FACT both on Facebook and also at the new blog site.

Pray for those who will spend this Christmas as slaves, sojourners in foreign lands, and victims of circumstances beyond their own control. Pray for the well-being of the OFW and their families, pray for their freedom from the economic conditions that keep them bound and separated from their loved ones, and may God be glorified in us all.

Sowing Ideas, Sticking Up For the Underdog and Getting Started

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Have you ever wondered how organizations like the Red Cross or Salvation Army got their start?

You can watch this video about the Red Cross for details. But the short version of almost every organization is that it always starts with an idea and an individual willingness to take initiative. A person sees a need to be filled, takes action, tells others and the effort continues to build momentum towards a solution.

Or at least that’s how it is supposed to work.

It doesn’t always work out. Sometimes an idea fails because it was poorly conceived. Other times the person with the idea lacks the motivation to see it through and loses interest themselves. Still, on some occasions, there may be times when the person with the right idea arrives at the wrong time, fails to make the necessary connections, and the thing fizzles on the launch pad as unrealized potential.

Soil and Seeds of Faith

In the context of ideas, the parable of the sower Jesus told comes to mind:

“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.” (Matthew 13:3‭-‬9 NIV)

The interpretation of the parable is provided later on in the same context. Jesus is referring to his own message, that of the kingdom of heaven, and how the growth potential of this seed depends on the receptivity of soil. Bad ideas oftentimes spread like weeds while the good news is trampled underfoot by the disinterested masses. But we sow should sow good seeds, all the same, knowing that some will find the right soil.

And so it goes with any inspirational idea, even the best ideas die where there is no faith. Many ideas fail when they are faced with a challenge and the commitment is shallow. Other ideas are drowned out in the marketplace of ideas—their appeal is drowned out by the better positioned and yet inferior aims.

You get the picture.

We are both soil and sower. We can allow ideas, good or bad, to take root in our hearts, and from those ideas spring actions. Sometimes it is a seed someone else plants, sometimes we are the distributor of the seeds, but the mystery is in what causes the seed to grow. St Paul speaks of this in trying to explain who should get credit for the spread of the Gospel saying “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.” (1 Corinthians 3 NIV) And that is the mystery that is perplexing to me.

Sticking Up For the Underdog

I had always been a bit undersized for my age. Not sure if it was a result of my premature birth or if I was out-competed at the dinner table, but on my first license (at 16 years old) I was just 5′-3″ tall and weigh only 112lb (50.8kg) as a senior in high school.

But I never lacked for grit and determination. My name, at least according to the placard that had been placed under my baby picture, means “strong-willed” and I’ve always done my best to prove myself worthy of the description. Mom called me her fighter for my surviving a traumatic start to life and that resolve, for better or worse, is a defining part of my identity and perspective of the world.

That’s why I’ve always been on the side of the underdog.

I’ve always been interested in the person who has more to overcome than others, the one who works harder than the rest and still does not necessarily come out on top in the end. It is easy to recognize and celebrate the winners. But if the effort could be measured, then the underdog is the one who has put forward the most effort and has shed the most blood, sweat, and tears. In any context or conflict, I’m always cheering for the one in the game who has to overcome the most disadvantages.

Underdog

I suppose that is why I had a deep respect for a particular classmate, a Filipino-American who stood about 5′-5″ tall and yet was the starting point guard on the high school basketball team who would put up 20 points some games. He had incredible ball-handling skills and could score in the paint, in traffic, against the trees like our own version of Allen Iverson. For someone who always thought of his own stature as standing in the way of athletic success, this was inspirational.

And maybe that is the reason why the Philippines has intrigued me?

Finding the Right Cause

I’ve always been cause-oriented or at least as far as causes pertaining to people that I care about. I have plenty of passion. But passion alone is not enough, passion needs direction and too often—given my chronic difficulty with focus—I’ve struggled to know what direction.

Some of my pursuit of the impossibility was in search of finding that thing that I lacked as far as a specific mission.

I did not find that direction where I had hoped to find it. However, in the aftermath of that severe disappointment, something did rise from the ashes and provided a path where none had existed before. With the stability brought about by a committed relationship, it gave me a reason to travel to the far reaches of the world and with that came some thought about the potential. I had first traveled to the Philippines and then a year later had an opportunity to spend time in Taiwan.

It was in that travel experience that I became well-acquainted with the hardships faced by overseas Filipino workers (OFW), began contemplating the economic reasons for this unfortunate circumstance and the potential solutions. Many seek work abroad because they have no other good options available and despite the stories of exploitation and abuse. Many become victims themselves after having borrowed money to travel to their new employer only to find things are not as promised.

I actually wrote out the strategic vision for an organization months ago. But I got caught up in the details of how to do it the right way (was thinking of getting a special website made) and it ended up on the back burner where it stayed. It was a story about an OFW “domestic worker” who had jumped out of a window and broke both of her legs to escape her captivity that finally drove me to take action. At that point, the particulars didn’t matter so much, the idea needed to be put out there, it was the right cause and something worth my fighting for.

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My hope is that the idea sown will find good soil to grow in, that others will join me in this righteous cause and that eventually, we can help to bring OFWs home. My hope is that someday those in the Philippines will not have to decide between gainful employment and their families. I especially want to make it so that fewer young women put themselves in situations where they are easily exploited. If the effort only helps one or two that is a success as far as I am concerned, but there is great potential.

So, all that said, you are invited to join me at the newly launched Filipino American Coalition of Trade blog site or the accompanying Facebook page.

Tesla’s Cybertruck Is Already A Huge Success, Here’s Why…

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Did you hear the news?

Tesla is making a pickup truck!

Of course, I doubt anyone who pays a slight bit of attention on social media missed the debut of Cybertruck. I mean, who could miss such a disaster of epic proportions, right?

At first glance, Elon Musk blew it. The truck looks absolutely hideous to your typical truck buyer, like something off a Blade Runner movie set, a future that never will be and never meant to ever reflect what consumers actually want in a vehicle.

But the reality is that Tesla just scored a huge marketing win. Those of you who hate the design, you are not in the actual target audience. A traditional truck buyer isn’t really interested in anything Tesla is offering and taking sledgehammers to windows won’t change that. However, if you have joined those talking about this awful truck then you are doing exactly what Musk’s rollout was intended to do and that is you are providing free-advertising for Tesla.

You might say, “But, wait a minute, everyone is ridiculing this design, laughing about the broken glass, how is that a good thing?”

It doesn’t make sense that what appears to be a failure is anything but a failure, right?

However, there is one thing I’ve discovered in the past few years and that is that almost all publicity is good publicity for those who know how to leverage it. From Miley Cyrus selling albums by twerking awkwardly like an ex-Mennonite ‘woke’ feminist-wannabe still angry at her parents—to Trump winning the White House by offending “libtards” (a term I’m borrowing from a smart liberal friend) with his strategically insensitive Tweets—bad press can most certainly be turned into bankable success.

Sure, you might never, in a million years, buy a Cybertruck. But, who cares? I can about guarantee some version of this truck will be hitting the road in the next few years and now everyone that could possibly want one knows about it.

Musk gets it.

Musk, love him or hate him, understands that people aren’t only buying transportation.

No, ever since Chevy coupes could be bought in more than one color (and much to the chargin’ of Henry Ford and his venerable Model T that was available in any color you want—so long as that color is black), consumers are buying an image as much as anything else. Image trumps practicality at every turn in this age of consumerism.

Musk, for his part, is in the business of creating image and, on this front, has delivered before…

Tesla Successfully Changed What it Means To Be Green

When electric vehicles were first introduced by established carmakers (or rather reintroduced after a century-long hiatus) they were always sold as being ‘green’ and a compromise. The EV1, for example, that billion dollar General Motors boondoggle, while winning a cult of leftist conspiracy theorists, failed to inspire the car buying masses.

And, sure, you can find enough virtue-signaling professor types or too practical appliance-car buyers to purchase a Toyota Prius. But, for the simple reason that it is boring as Al Gore’s personality, you’ll never convince the general public that this should be their next vehicle . Nobody wants to settle, every big-ticket item we buy is an extension of us, shows our personality, and an electric Toyota has all the excitement of a tweed sweater.

Musk changed the game. He changed the focus from economy and compromise (for sake of some hypothetical greater good abstraction) to real luxury and serious power. There was really nothing that new or innovative about his designs. In a sense, all Telsa cars (at least up until the Cybertruck) had styling cues that belonged next to a 1990s Ford Taurus or Chevy Caprice of the bubble car era. But the marketing strategy worked.

Telsa made electric cars something relevant and cool.

To the target demographic Model S and subsequent offerings have looked sleek and sophisticated. They also offer real-world performance, exclusivity, and appearances of eco-friendliness on top of that. They pretty much bested the existing offerings of BMW, Lexus, Audi and Mercedes Benz in every metric that mattered to that demographic.

So what happened???

How did we go from that to Cybertruck?!?

But, first…

Why Does Anyone Buy a Pick-up Truck?

Truck buyers might claim to be practical. And that may be the case if you have an old Ford Ranger in your driveway, farm or hang drywall for a living. But most people do not need a pick-up truck any more than I need a Shelby GT-350.

With a pick-up truck you are buying an image.

Sure, pick-up trucks are often sold for their utility, for their ability to tow a trailer full of excavating equipment up a rocky cliff, and some do get used for this purpose, but let’s be real: The reality is that many of these two-ton behemoths (if not most) are used primarily as grocery getters, are not very practical for that task and that’s the point.

Come on, do you really think that guy (waking you up at an ungodly hour) put those obnoxious straight pipes on his Dodge Ram to uncork a little more power?

Is that six-foot lift kit on a late-model Duramax really about ground clearance and rock-climbing ability?

Don’t kid yourself, the jacked-up smoke-spewing monstrosity is all about trying to get you to notice and that goon behind the wheel will enjoy your disgust as much as your approval.

What we purchase is never only about the real-world utility of the thing. It is also to make a statement of some kind and trucks to make a statement. Owning a truck is often about getting noticed, it is a status symbol, it is a projection of strength, security and good ol’ American independence.

It is about possessing capabilities (real or imagined) that others do not have with their wimpy cars. And that’s generally why people prefer trucks over the alternatives.

Tesla’s Cybertruck Is Already A Huge Success

Believe it or not, Musk’s marketing plan was executed perfectly broken glass and all.

How do I know this to be the case?

Well, everyone is talking about it, even people who aren’t normally truck buyers or very interested in automotive news period are talking about Tesla’s hideous new Cybertruck creation, laughing about the busted window, making videos about the tug-of-war, etc.

Meanwhile, amid this free publicity is a subliminal message: If you want to be truly different, if you want to really stick it to the status quo, then buying the most loathed vehicle on the planet will give you that notoriety and the attention you want.

Call the Cybertruck ugly, but since when is a pick-up truck supposed to be pretty, dainty and delicate?

Laugh about a broken window, but since when have you seen someone dare to throw a steel ball at their shiny new F-150 or Silverado?

Say that the tug-of-war test is meaningless (and it is as far as something of practical value) and yet who hasn’t seen the videos online of similar contests between trucks?

Musk understands the average truck buyer better than they understand themselves. He also already knows that he’s not going to attract the traditional truck buyer.

Bubba ain’t giving up his “square body” Chevy even if you gave him ten Teslas and Billy Bob will be tweaking his “first-gen” Cummins until the thing dissolves entirely into a heap of rust and accumulated soot.

Likewise, pappy will continue to buy his overpriced four-wheel drive luxury barge, from a traditional brand, because new cars aren’t ‘safe’ like his 1960’s Oldsmobile.

The traditional truck buyer is not the target audience of Telsa’s campaign.

No, Tesla has, in effect, created the parody of a pick-up truck, the one that takes the increasingly squared shoulder look of pick-up trucks and goes straight-up box on wheels.

Cybertruck is extreme, it defies convention, which has been what the “big three” (if you can still call them that) have been doing for years. I mean, have you seen the new Silverados? The things are extremely exaggerated compared to the designs they replaced, almost cartoonish, and that has been the design direction for all full-size trucks, bigger, more aggressive, etc.

In reality, the Cybertruck is brilliant because it is the only way you can go to be more rugged, more independent and different.

It is a design that says, “I don’t care about you being offended.”

The only thing different is that the target demographic is not some redneck “rolling coal” in Arkansas who doesn’t want an electric truck, period, and never will.

Rather Musk’s target is someone like Arnold Swartzeneggar in Hollywood who in times past would’ve bought a Hummer to make a display of his unbridled masculinity, is desperate to be unique and yet now, to win female attention in his social strata, has to also signal his eco-consciousness.

There will be many out there who will emulate the boldness of their celebrity idols. Many who would enjoy irritating everyone else on the road with their annoying tastes and will especially enjoy the ire of the traditional truck buyers.

A successful product doesn’t need to be liked by everyone. In fact, when it comes to vehicles, it is better to have a specific group in mind and not to worry about what those outside that particular target group think.

Bad publicity isn’t bad if it gets your message to those who would potentially buy your product. The negative buzz can turn into a positive.

But will it work?

The Problem with Shock and Awe

Trump might win by a wider margin in 2020.

Tesla may have as much success with the Cybertruck as they have with their other vehicles.

However, people are fickle and the fresh direction that worked before might become old news and the next Edsel on the second go around.

Tesla (unlike Trump) also has some serious competition. Not only is Ford translating their proven F-150 platform into electric, but there is also the up and coming Rivian R1T that looks a little more thought out and has some traditional cues despite being differentiated.

It could be that most of Tesla’s target demographic consumers would settle for something a bit less radical and a bit more refined in appearance. The Cybertruck may simply be too silly to be taken seriously in the very competitive truck market—it may need to be tweaked towards a more traditional design.

There is a point when being controversial ceases to be appealing to anyone, goes full-on Aztec, and alienates everyone. (It didn’t work for Trump’s opponents who tried to adopt his brash style either, it completely backfired, it made them look even more lacking in authenticity than they did before.) And time will tell if Musk’s successful marketing of Cybertruck will turn into an actual sales success. But he did get our attention, that’s for sure, and that is half the game!

Musk, like Trump, has mobilized his haters and used them as a hugely successful marketing campaign.

Loose Ends, Long Waits, and Second Acts

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The only thing I hate more than loose ends is multiple loose ends. Loose ends represent instability and uncertainty, they are the fringes of the chaos and confusion that perpetually threaten to overwhelm the necessary stability and order of our lives.

There are several big projects in my life right now, well under way, some years in the making, and all of them various stages of incomplete. My ability to handle pressure has always been a big question mark and the past few months have tested the strength of my resolve.

I’ve sometimes felt as if I’m a person at the edge of functional, who kept things together mentally or otherwise by careful management of his resources and emotions. But in the past few years I’ve determined to sail beyond my safe waters, beyond the established boundaries of my known limits and at the risk of failure.

Am I built for this?

My new career is the first part of this stress test. I definitely have the basic aptitude for truss design and have become reasonably proficient at using the engineering software. However, with my proficiency, and changes in the truss market towards residential, the expectations are high and the workload has ballooned.

More recently it has become a make or break it moment as the construction season wraps up and a new prospective customer has piled on, who refuses to give the information that I request and seems to have very little respect for my time. He wants a “conference call” after every small revision and email, every conversation with him is circular and I’ve reached peak frustration in dealing with him.

However his project does promise to be one of those signature projects, if it ever gets underway, and the truth is that I really want him to be pleased with the work we do. It’s just that right now it is impossible to know if he’s just going to be an endless hassle, who tries to micromanage every part of the process or if he’ll become more cooperative and less doting as things progress. I’m not holding my breath.

There are days where I could be tempted to turn back, return to the proverbial Egypt of truck driving, and not need to deal with the pressure of always having to get things perfect. In trucking, a few spilled beans is just a few spilled beans. But, in this job, if I enter my numbers wrong here I could have the truss equivalent of “Galloping Girtie,” a very costly disaster and would need to bear the shame of my failure.

Of course, then again, an accident, for a commercial driver, can be a felony offense and especially if they can prove that you were distracted at the time. So maybe I’ll stick to the possibility of big financial losses for my company and potential of losing my job over sharing a cell with Bubba because the dispatcher needed answers and a silly “four wheeler” decided to use the same exact moment to check my reaction time?

I’ll stick with tapping the keyboard where there is less chance of me dying trapped in the burning wreck of a big rig, where I can be home at night despite a long commute, and my coworkers are Amish and awesome people. My hope is that eventually that will grow to the point where they can justify a second designer, so I can breathe a little and at least have the possibility of a day off or even working from home. It is a work in progress.

When will it be finished?

In the midst of everything else, I am (with the help of a more construction qualified friend) preparing a place. For many years I’ve lived comfortably in a small house, my bachelor pad, but for various reasons have decided that it is the right time to make a move.

First, the opportunity presented itself in the form of a “for sale by owner” sign along the path of my Saturday Dunkin coffee and donut routine. It was an upgrade from my current residence in terms of square footage and yard space. But it was also in severe need of a remodel, with cracked plaster, evidence of past leaks showing on the ceiling tiles, and other blemishes.

So, with the bank on board and price being right, after consulting some contractors, I went forward with the purchase.

Obviously, being that this is not only my own money involved and every month I wait to move in is a loss of a rent check plus the cost of utilities, there is a strong desire on my part to get the job done. That said, it will also be my own personal residence, the future “bhest nest” for my loved ones, there is also an equal desire to get it right the first time and thus speed was not the only concern.

As such projects go, we are behind schedule and threatening to go over-budget. But, at the same time, I have confidence we are doing it right and not cutting corners. For example, the old “knob and tube” wiring could have simply been covered up, spared us that extra week or so of work and the added cost, yet this is the place where I plan to sleep, keep my accumulation of things, etc.

I’ve also decided that working with a contractor is preparation for a having a wife. They don’t spend money like I do. They seem to see my wallet as being a spigot from a bottomless well, spending a thousand here and two thousand there is no big deal, whereas I’m keenly aware of every dollar spent and who will be slaving away to accommodate their excess. I’ve never told them no and they still call me tight—perhaps a warning against hiring (or marrying) friends?

Oh well, I’ve been every bit annoying as the customers I would complain about, I’ve made frequent visits, had things reworked midcourse to suit my preferences, and fussed about the lack of progress. I’m sure we’ll both be relieved once the travails of a major remodeling project are behind us, at very least the pressure will be off of me once I’m moved in and temporarily not hemorrhaging cash like a politician trying to buy votes. Ultimately, the best kind of project is a finished project!

Building towards that simple and happy life…

The bhest is yet to come. Everything up to this point I do and will be made worth it all when the big moment finally arrives. At this point I’m just getting all the pieces into position for something far greater on the horizon.

It has been a sort of an intermission period, with one act over with the next act yet to begin, and he waiting for the curtain to open has been my grueling, seemingly impossible, task as of late. There is much anticipation of things to come, but also as much anxiety about how things could go wrong (as so many did in act one) and I’m simply ready to get started with this next significant and very long awaited stage of life.

I had once wondered how Jacob could have labored so many years for the woman he loved. But now that I’ve surpassed his fourteen years, I’m not so much impressed, that’s puppy love. Besides that, he had a companion for half that time and also knew what was waiting for him at the end. I never had a Laban in my life. I’ve never had a father who let me prove myself or work for the love of his daughter nor any reason for hope other than my own stubborn refusal to quit.

In fact, I longed for something definite, some kind of clear path towards the Promised Land, and always ended up staring into an uncertain future. It is easy to fight dragons when you know that the princess is waiting for you in the castle. But it takes real courage and character to continue to fight despite the fears that a more profound loneliness and more terrible depression could be the only reward waiting at the end of your struggles.

Just an undefined waiting time is bad enough. It is the thing I hated the most about driving truck. I would much rather be told a specific time, even if it is a long period of time, than a “we’ll tell you when we’re ready” or some other non-committal response. I mean, how do you plan for an indeterminate period of time? Do I crawl back into the sleeper only to be woke from my sleep five minutes later? Not knowing confined me, it limited what I could do, and did not allow me to prepare.

It remains to be seen how the lingering conflicts of act one will be resolved. Questions still remain that I hope can soon be put to rest. But right now I must focus on tying up the loose ends, working through the stress of the interim, being patient and trusting that the right answers will come in due course.

Will the impossible be made possible?

Stay tuned!

Going Through the Motions

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The phrase “going through the motions” usually implies a half-hearted or insincere effort.

It is most often used for circumstances when we want people to be engaged and enthusiastic, but instead we see vacant expressions, a sea of zombies. And, like an old high school football coach screaming in the locker room at his sleepwalking athletes, we plea to the listless bodies: “Let’s show some life out there!”

There also seems to be an expectation, at least in the contemporary Western church, that a worship service should be a sort pep rally event, where anything short of people jumping over pews and shouting “hallelujah” is a disappointment.

Many, in defense of their preference for a lively experience, cite David’s dance (2 Samuel 6:14-15) as a proof-text and prescription. They treat this fist-pumping, near-naked and completely undignified affair as a sort of standard. However, this perspective neglects something very important and that something being context of this over-the-top expression.

That context?

Literally a once in a lifetime event.

The most sacred object of Jewish worship, the “ark of the Lord,” the physical manifestation of God in their midst, was being returned to Jerusalem. Recall the ark had been lost for a generation, captured by the Philistines (1 Samuel 4:11) and, though back in Israel, had never returned to Jerusalem. Of course this was a joyous occasion, a reason for great exuberance, the glory of God was being restored!

Revive Us…Again?

Those raised in a revivalistic setting often seek after an emotional experience. Unfortunately this is often the spiritual equivalent empty calories, something that feels good but lacks real substance of change, a momentary high often followed by a corresponding crash—a crash of equal (or greater) proportion to the energy boost that leaves many feeling more defeated in the end.

I made the mistake, in one of the most vulerable times of my life, of attending an Evangelical “tent meeting” outside of a nearby town. By chance, coincidence or divine appointment, the ‘impossibility’ (that person who became the physical representation of my inability to find a place in the Mennonite culture and not someone I had wanted to see in that particular place) had decided to attend. Not only that, but the ushers of this event, obviously not knowing of my personal struggle, seated her right in front of me.

Her presence there, combined with a sermon about faith and Peter’s walking on water before slipping under the waves of doubt, was the perfect storm for upheal. The manipulative tactics worked. My body began to shake and, after a few choruses of those familiar “altar call” hymns, I got to my feet and walked to the front of the congregation. Soon I would be wisked away by an earnest young gentleman, who offered to listen, prayed with me, and even checked in a couple times in the weeks after.

But the revival effect was very short lived. A day or two later, after that fleeting moment of assurance, I plunged back into my living hell. That exhausting emotional rollercoaster, the fleeting hopes of resolution followed by soul-crushing deep despair and longing for death, day in and day out, did not end. What happened that night was nothing but a false hope, it left me only more confused, more disappointed and desperate.

What finally did work to bring back some stability of mood was an Adderall prescription. That drug, an amphetamine, is prescribed for attention-deficit disorder and yet did wonders for my anxieties as well and was wonderful while it lasted. The morning after starting this, I woke up with music in my ears and the thought, “wow, this must be what it feels like to be Betty Miller!” It felt like a miracle. My mind stopped spinning in circles. I had confidence because I didn’t think, I simply engaged.

Ultimately, even after going off the drug for various reasons (including my inability to sleep) the effect of that experience was long-term. It is actually what gave me the reprieve needed to launch this blog, Irregular Ideation, and showed me some of the potential that I always knew I had and somehow could never realize. The revival meeting, on the other hand, was simply another episode that convinced me that the religious system I was a part of lacked a critical component and was only useful in that it led me to look elsewhere for answers.

The Cure For Chaos…

There is a big push in our time for spontaneity and casualness. Those trying to bring emotional energy back into worship attempt to accomplish that end by changing up the program. The assumption being that this change of window dressing (or rearranging of the deck chairs) is the key to spiritual renewal and confuse the commotion of the change with something of real spiritual value.

Unfortunately, the ‘pump’ is nearly always followed by the dump. More and more young people are losing interest in the shallow, ever-changing, consumer Christianity of their parents. For some this chaotic environment, supposed to keep them interested, provides them with no escape, no means to be in awe of God, and only feeds their confusion. Not everyone can jump and shout on cue—especially not when there are better adrenaline rushes to be had elsewhere.

What if I were to tell you that worship is about orienting ourselves towards heaven, not our personal preferences?

What if I were to tell you that church is a sanctuary, not a stadium?

It was only after attending a liturgical service that I realized the things missing from the form of worship that was familiar to me. Shockingly, it is in going through the motions, by worshipping in the manner similar to heavenly worship, that I’ve been most profoundly moved. Ironically, despite the order, despite the mundane moments of going through the same old routine, there is also a peace that comes by participating in worship passed down from ancient times.

But, more than that, it is trotting this well-worn path that the practice leads something wonderful beyond words. A cousin of mine, Michael Logen, a professional musician and song-writer out of Nashville, once told me that the key to good art is consistency of practice. In other words, instead of only writing when feeling inspired, he encouraged me to set aside time to write every day and it was in this “going through the motions” that our moments of inspiration could be most fully realized.

“I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who had practiced one kick 10,000 times.” (Bruce Lee)

In this age of instant gratification and ‘worship’ that amounts to emotional pornography, many run from one ‘spiritual’ experience to the next, and miss out totally on the real need of their heart. Tragically, in their constant running from one temporary fix to the next, they miss out on the opportunity to practice a worship that is not centered on them, their whims, and eventually no amount of gimmick will fill that void. No, repeating the same routine, in worship and prayer, will not transform a heart. That said, neither will constantly changing things up.

Sure, there is a time for the emotional display and recklessness of king David. However, there’s probably a good reason why worship at the temple in Jerusalem was orderly and patterned. Like an athlete who goes through the motions, repeating the same routines of exercise and practice to be ready for game time, we too benefit from a worship that doesn’t conform to our own expectations—rather preparers us for a life that requires less spontaneity and more stamina.

Sometimes just showing up, regardless of how we feel, is enough.

Cautionary Tales About Pigeons, Sparrows and Ideological Extremes

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For those who still remember Paul Harvey and miss his “and now you know the rest of the story” delivery style, Lance Geiger will scratch the itch. His episodes, on “The History Guy” YouTube channel, have been my entertainment in the morning before work and enjoy the storytelling adventure before his “forgotten history that deserves to be remembered” wrap-up at the end.

His show is not political. But two of the episodes sparked my thinking about the danger of ideological extremes and the need for checks and balances. One story an example of the central planning gone seriously awry, the other about the unfortunate consequences of technological development combined with market forces, and both stories involve the extinction or near extinction of a species of birds.

Socialized Sparrows and Starvation

The first video, “When China went to war with sparrows” is about the “Four Pests Campaign” that was part of the “Great Leap Forward” from 1958 to 1962. The idea was to eliminate certain types of critters as a way to increase hygiene and reduce disease. The targets, mosquitoes, rodents, flies, and sparrows, were picked by the Socialist regime of Mao Zedong. Claiming that “birds are the public animals of capitalism,” armed with a population bound to statist fervor, they dramatically reduced the numbers of sparrows.

The end result of this sparrow control campaign was an ecological disaster. As it turns out, holding to Marxist ideals does not make a person an expert on economic development or biological science, and this deliberate elimination of sparrows came with some very serious consequences. This misguided policy is believed to be a leading cause of the Great Chinese Famine, a catastrophe that cost between 15 to 45 million human deaths and was abandoned when Chinese authorities, on the advice of an actual ornithologist, finally realized their terrible mistake.

Che Guevara T-shirt wearing, professional far-leftist ‘rabble-rousers’ may celebrate “people power” when it aligns with their personal prejudices. They often sit smugly and sanctimonious, on their intellectual ivory towers, confusing their book acquired knowledge and ideological indoctrination for wisdom. But given real power these people are dangerous. Mao Zedong, the well-educated son of a wealthy farmer, was not an idiot or especially ignorant. But the masses he controlled (with his anti-Capitalist rhetoric) amplified his mistakes, caused great suffering and claimed many innocent lives.

Sparrows, as it turns out, help to control locust populations. These bugs, now unrestrained by the sparrows, quickly proliferated and went on a crop-destroying rampage. This, along with the reckless use of pesticides and poisons by the Chinese government, was all well-intentioned. Likewise, there are many Socialist policies, championed in the past century in this country, that have failed us as miserably and yet continue to be touted as solutions. Unlike Mao, however, our crop of ‘progressives’ more often doubles down on their mistake, hiding behind their ever more convoluted logic, rather than ever reconsider.

Capitalized Pigeons and Profitable Purges

The second video, “How the extinction of a species affected whiskey production,” deals with the plight of the passenger pigeon. This North American species was once so numerous that the flocks would blot out the sun was hunted to extinction, the last of the birds dying September 1, 1915.

Native Americans had hunted passenger pigeons as they were plentiful and a good source of protein. But, because of the limits of their technology and smaller population size, never put a dent in the numbers of pigeons. But this would all change with the newly arrived settlers from Europe. Trains, telegraphs, and gunpowder enabled more people to join the hunt at pigeon nesting grounds. One well-aimed blast from a two barrelled shotgun could kill as many as 61 birds and tens of thousands were slaughtered with great ease.

The real compounding factor was not the hunters, not the tools that they used, but was rather the money and markets that gave them motivation. Unlike in times past where it only made sense to hunt for only enough to sustain your own family or village, the railroads made it possible to ship vast quantities of the fowl meat to city markets back East. The apparent plentifulness of the birds masked the severe drop in their numbers and the cheap source of protein (or profit) they provided ensured the hunts would continue.

That is not to say that nobody was aware of the decline of the species. There were indeed attempts to reign in the slaughter in the mid-1800s. But these conservationist efforts never gained enough traction to make a difference, the legislation introduced too little too late, and extinction followed.

It would be easy to say this plunder of natural resources was a product of greed. But, insomuch as greed is a selfish excess, that is not an accurate diagnosis of the problem. If it were greedy or selfish for one to merely act in their own self-interest then we would all be equally guilty for breathing. The real problem is that no individual accounted for more than their own harvest. There was not nearly enough consideration for the big picture and market forces took care of the rest.

In a Capitalistic system, productive behavior rewarded. That reward is distributed to those who have the ability and motivation to work. But, without anything to hold this motivation in check, a mass of humanity can quickly become like a swarm of locust devouring everything in its path. The beauty of the Capitalistic system is that it allows people to do more to advance their own self-interests and that is also the downfall of Capitalism as well.

What Is the Moral to the Story?

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” (Matthew 10:29 NIV)

Perhaps if God cares about the sparrows we should as well?

In the two stories economic systems that could not be more different and produced nearly the same results. Both cases demonstrate the power of a mass of people and remind me of the demotivational poster in my bedroom (gifted from my awesome little sister) featuring a circle of skydivers and the text: “Idiocy: Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.”

The poster, a satirical take on motivational posters, is meant as tongue in cheek humor and not to be taken too serious.

Nevertheless, as there is truth to every joke, the useful message is that it is prudent to stand apart from the crowd, to resist conformity and ask questions. Had enough people questioned the party propaganda or the collective actions of their profit-seeking neighbors the death of millions of Chinese and the extinction of passenger pigeons could have been avoided.

These accounts of pigeons and sparrows are also cautionary tales about two opposite ideological extremes. In Socialism the stupid decisions of a small group of people can be vastly magnified by the subjugated masses. In Capitalism the masses, motivated by profit and market forces, can become a source of terrible devastation. The central planning of collectivists and the lack thereof in individualistic and free-market systems both come with their own unique manifestations of the same risk.

It is worthwhile to note that the unchecked power of the central state, in the path century, is responsible for more deaths (due to wars, genocides, famines, etc) than any one person or group of people motivated by profit. Government policies, often favoring big corporations or particular individuals, at very least contribute as much to the problem as individual desire to profit and are, in fact, responsible for some of the worst man-made ecological disasters in modern times.

However, the properly restrained state can provide a good counterbalance to market forces, to keep the masses from acting like a runaway train unaware of the destruction at the end of the tracks and offers some necessary protection for endangered species. It is for our own long-term good that there are limits to our freedoms.

In the end, I’m not for unrestrained Capitalism anymore than I am for unrestrained government power. As much as possible I prefer to let people make their own choices and therefore, for that reason, shade towards free markets—which, when not interfered with by governments through subsidies or social programs, are the most democratic institution known to men. It is better to allow mistakes to be corrected at a lower level through bankruptcy and individual loss. That said, the extinction of the passenger pigeon speaks to the need for a collective consciousness to hold back our self-interested impulses.

Much destruction can be caused by taking a good thing too far or not keeping it properly restrained by other equally valid principles and concerns. Do not repeat the mistakes of these competing ideological extremes and their equal potential for economically or ecologically disastrous results. Remember the sparrows. Remember the pigeons.