Tuesday, December 30, 2014

The Noisy Neighbors

A little short story I threw together at work. Enjoy!

They were being noisy again. Always, the noise. It drove him insane. It always did, and it never seemed to relent.  They were banging away, sometimes fighting, sometimes laughing. Always living it up. Always so… Lively. It was enough to make him scream and howl. Sometimes, it did.     
       
He paced back and forth in his little kitchen. He liked it here. It reminded him of mother. She would know what to do with these people. He vaguely recalled her whispering some advice. Not that long ago even. A way to get the neighbors to shut up with their racket forever.  Yet the ungodly noise continued.  She would’ve known what to do. She always did. Mother always knew best.  The banging was louder now. Mother would never approve. He was so frustrated at the racket he finally started to break down and sob. It came out in choking halts, a thing of anxiety rather than ordinary grief..

How had things come to this? After mother died everything seemed to have fallen apart. Mother was his world and now his world had collapsed.  Mother had always sheltered him from the neighbors and their infernal noise. She would pound on their door and make it all better. They hated mother. She had told him. Mother always knew best.  He rarely spoke to her now, terrified of incurring her wrath.  He squatted down by her freezer, sobbing and whimpering. He did this often, cowering like an oft-kicked dog.  He didn’t mean to upset her or disappoint her. He was just so lost without her guidance, her solace, her touch at night. Things were definitely getting worse.
              
The horrendous noise was getting worse, too. It certainly wasn’t helping his situation. Were they having a party? It sounded like they were dancing on the very walls. He hated dancing.  All that gyrating, noise, touching. Touching was the worst. Only mother’s touch was ok. The rest was just so invasive. So vile. Such a reminder of what a naughty little boy he was.  A betrayal of mother. Just thinking about it made him let out a sort of rasping shriek.
                
They were shouting now. Moaning, too.  Yelling incoherently, the specific words not discernable.  Finally, he could take no more. He howled in misery at the top of his lungs and charged through the apartment. He crashed into the bedroom and flung open the closet.  In a fit of terrified rage he kicked the large trunk repeatedly before fumbling with the clasps in his sweaty, twitching hands and flinging the trunk open.  The reek of rot and decomposing meat immediately filled the room. He screamed and sobbed his fury and frustration at them.  Demanding repeatedly that they just shut UP.  He’d had ENOUGH of their noise and their taunting. Their mocking and insults when they thought he wasn’t looking. Saying awful things about him, and worse, about mother.
               
Finally, his energy had been expelled, his anxiety and anguish vented. He slid down the wall next to the trunk, crying quietly. They were finally silent; the shouting and dancing and banging having ended as soon as his ranting began.  Relieved, he closed the trunk, completely oblivious to the stench of decay. Maybe this time he’d finally shown them.  He’d seen a patrol car earlier.  They’d have to shut up. Mother wouldn’t approve. Speaking of mother, it was time to resume his vigil by the freezer. She’d get angry if he wasn’t properly grateful, didn’t show proper attention, and there would be the belt.

Behind him, they began noisily banging around once more.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Thoughts on Christianity and the Chivalric Ideal

The Seven Cardinal Virtues


Chastity - Abstaining from sexual conduct according to one's state in life; the practice of courtly love and romantic friendship. Cleanliness through cultivated good health and hygiene, and maintained by refraining from intoxicants. To be honest with oneself, one's family, one's friends, and to all of humanity. Embracing of moral wholesomeness and achieving purity of thought-through education and betterment. The ability to refrain from being distracted and influenced by hostility, temptation or corruption.
In opposition to Lust.


Temperance - Restraint, temperance, justice. Constant mindfulness of others and one's surroundings; practicing self-control, abstention, moderation and deferred gratification. Prudence to judge between actions with regard to appropriate actions at a given time. Proper moderation between self-interest, versus public-interest, and against the rights and needs of others.
In opposition to Gluttony.


Charity - Generosity, charity, self-sacrifice; the term should not be confused with the more restricted modern use of the word charity to mean benevolent giving. In Christian theology, charity—or love (agäpé) -- is the greatest of the three theological virtues.Love, in the sense of an unlimited loving kindness towards all others, is held to be the ultimate perfection of the human spirit, because it is said to both glorify and reflect the nature of God. Such love is self-sacrificial. Confusion can arise from the multiple meanings of the English word "love". The love that is "caritas" is distinguished by its origin – being divinely infused into the soul – and by its residing in the will rather than emotions, regardless of what emotions it stirs up. This love is necessary for salvation, and with it no one can be lost.
In opposition to Greed.


Diligence - A zealous and careful nature in one's actions and work; decisive work ethic, steadfastness in belief, fortitude, and the capability of not giving up. Budgeting one's time; monitoring one's own activities to guard against laziness. Upholding one's convictions at all times, especially when no one else is watching (integrity).
In opposition to Sloth.


Patience - Forbearance and endurance through moderation. Resolving conflicts and injustice peacefully, as opposed to resorting to violence. Accepting the grace to forgive; to show mercy to sinners. Creating a sense of peaceful stability and community rather than suffering, hostility, and antagonism.
In opposition to Wrath.


Kindness - Charity, compassion and friendship for its own sake. Empathy and trust without prejudice or resentment. Unselfish love and voluntary kindness without bias or spite. Having positive outlooks and cheerful demeanor; to inspire kindness in others.
In opposition to Envy.


Humility - Modest behavior, selflessness, and the giving of respect. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it is thinking of yourself less. It is a spirit of self-examination; a hermeneutic of suspicion toward yourself and charity toward people you disagree with. The courage of the heart necessary to undertake tasks which are difficult, tedious or unglamorous, and to graciously accept the sacrifices involved. Reverence for those who have wisdom and those who selflessly teach in love. Giving credit where credit is due; not unfairly glorifying one's own self. Being faithful to promises, no matter how big or small they may be. Refraining from despair and the ability to confront fear and uncertainty, or intimidation.
In opposition to Pride.


The Chivalric Virtues


Honesty - To be truthful and forthright.  To bear true witness for and against friend or foe, and even to self-incriminate if one is in fact guilty of bad behavior.  To abstain from exaggeration and aggrandizement.  To commit no lie of omission, but to always present information in a way that conveys an accurate picture.  Not to be confused with always telling everyone everything, but rather the absence of misleading.  If one declines to share information, one is entitled to do that but should openly state when this is the case.
In opposition to Deceit.


Courage - To face danger and hardship bravely.  To be brave in the face of not only physical danger but peer pressure and moral challenges.  To have the fortitude to stand up for what is right in the face of opposition be it physical or otherwise, but especially to fight for what is just against physical aggression.  To be willing to risk life and limb without fear.  Not to be confused with recklessness.
In opposition to Cowardice.


Wisdom - To be prudent and with good sense.  To soberly reflect on decisions and act with good judgement, defined as decisions that will promote what is right and just.  To avoid recklessness, foolishness.  To embrace a strong and well defined moral compass devoid of confusion and ambiguity, and wed it with practicality that effectively translates moral directive into applied action.
In opposition to Foolishness.


Courtesy - To be polite whenever possible.  To respect authority and rank, and render apporpriate salutations and protocol.  To be considerate and respectful of the wishes of others and the considerations of propriety.  Not to be confused with blind obedience or foolish politeness that excuses or enables wrongdoing.
In opposition to Rudeness.


Guardianship - To use whatever moral or physical power one posseses to protect the weaker and less capable from injustice.  To advocate the cause of the more vulnerable and defend them from violence and exploitation.
In opposition to Exploitation.


Duty - To faithful perform any moral task set before one.  To execute one's responsibilities and requirements punctually and effectively, with the uppermost effort and vigor.  To never shirk responsibility or be negligent in one's professions and enterprises.  To bear true service to one's obligations and leaders.
In opposition to Negligence.


Piety - To always keep the laws and ways of God uppermost in one's mind.  To always harbor a sincere and true belief in the Christian way.  To remember that the purpose behind all morality and behavior (including the authority of virtues) is servitude to God and never deviate from God's moral imperatives.
In opposition to Secularism.



From this we derive the picture of a highly idealized man (it should be noted that the first 7 virtues are those originally espoused by early Christianity and early Church, and are still prized even among non-Catholics; the second set is my attempt to distill still further "knightly" values).  It should be noted that central to the Christian faith is the notion that holiness (as far as humans can obtain it) is not through being flawless, but rather in sincere effort toward the reformation of sin into virtue.  Jesus alone was all of the things above at once.  What matters is the constant effort toward them.  Virtue and holiness are not destinations that can ever be attained so much as directions of travel. 

Knighthood as an actual status is an anachronism not seen today.  The ideal of the knight-errant, the crusader, appears to be largely forgotten except in popular culture as ingredients for stories and the like.  I compiled this list purely as a personal interest, there are no modern knights and I am not suggesting something like that could ever really be reformed.  There are such things as Christians still though, and in perspective that should be enough.  One need not be riding a horse and owning a castle to be Galahad.  In the modern sense even the smallest scale can serve the noble ideal because virtue is not measured in proportion to its impact so much as the sacrifice and intent of the one performing it.  Virtue and the service to others do more for the one performing said virtue than the one receiving.

It is not in the scope of this minor scribbling to fully expound on virtue, knighthood, chivalry, or medeival history.  Suffice to say simply that the "chivalrous ideal" (that real life knights rarely attained or even strove for, to be honest) is not an ideal that need be totally dead.  Shorn of romanticism, we can distill real values and precepts from it that are in fact in accordance with Biblical wisdom and can be applied to even us lowly proles in our small and obscure little lives.

The Monster

A poem about the horror of confronting uncomfortable and discouraging truths


Who is this monster?
What wretch gazes at me?
Why is his soul so black?
What is this creature I see?

How did he get this way?
What brought him so low?
Surely his misery was well tended,
He is wrought of much labor, I know.

I look upon him with contempt
His failure is painful to see.
Bemused at my revulsion,
He merely grins at me.

He cannot truly love,
A broken thing is he.
Nor can he ever be loved,
A horrid place to be!

His madness is disconcerting,
He operates by no plan.
He destroys what he cares for,
This distorted man.

His avarice carefully reared,
His melancholy liberally fed,
In so many ways,
He is already practically dead.

I look at him in discomfort,
distraught by what I see.
This horrifying thing I behold,
This thing in the mirror is me.

Full Circle

A poem about the end of the War on Terror and coming to grips with its disappointing conclusions and empty life many veterans return to

What happens when the music stops?
So much a scabbard without a sword
For when the chairs are taken away,
There is a warrior without a war

Nothing again shall ever compare
To the excitement and the fear
The horror and glory of combat
To battle for life most dear

A grey life awaits us here
A strange, shallow, oversensitive world
Such silly, superficial concerns
Ridiculous priorities unfurled

The agony of our war’s defeat
To see such sacrifices in vain
To watch our legacy go sour
“Another Vietnam” the sad refrain

Time marches on, and so do we
Mostly anyway, as we lose brothers every day
We try to rebuild a life here
The fleeting glory of the past fades away

What then is this news and rumor of war?
Martial redemption for my generation?
The beginning of a cataclysm?
Or one more passing trouble for this troubled nation?

I relished the chance at finality
Looked forward to that second chance
Yet it now stands before me
And uncertainty holds me like a trance

Will things end like this?
Like some unfinished book?
Neither glory afield, nor love at home
A life only half finished! I am shook!

A grim warning, maybe too late
To seek the content in life
For God allots only so much and no more
Do not let your time become empty and trite!

The Bondage of Doubt

A poem about the crippling power of doubt

A cruel master is he,
A tyrant devoid of mercy
Persistence his sole virtue
His touch like a whip’s scourge

Ever a naysayer,
He neither knows nor gives rest
On and on, he drones
His voice never hoarse

His oratory is masterful
A story teller, first rate!
Vivid tales of woe and gloom
A fount of hopelessness

His iron grip is pitiless
Forged in dark, cold logic
No dream thrives in his realm
Yet despair runs unchecked

Sometimes he is wild eyed,
Other times? Calm and knowing
No matter, he is always heard
The vocal enemy of hope

His offspring are much like him:
Despair, indecision, and fear
Alone, each is legion
Together, they are mighty indeed

To overthrow him is no easy
Only the greatest courage,
The strongest faith,
Stand any chance against him

Rationality, his unwitting ally
The logic of risk and calculated failure
Wisdom and courage alone
Will aid you against him

He calls you friend to your face
Yet he is an evil counsellor
He whispers pessimism
And intones certain defeat

To live boldly, strongly,
Is your only way
To take risks and failures,
To trust in God's providence

Patience

A poem about the difficulty of patience, depicted as a combatant difficult to contend with

What uncertain foe is before me?
Why, this evasive thing is no enemy!
Rather a highest of virtues is he

How difficult he is to befriend!
Would that I could give him his due
To mend those long tattered fences

Note that he is a prey most elusive
Slippery and difficult to hold
In an instant he seeks to flee from you

If only we could reconcile
To taste his bittersweet peace
A mighty weapon against folly

Yet he is a hard thing to love
For he opposes our base nature
Man little enjoys being held at bay

Nonetheless, struggle with him I must
For if I wish this same thing from God
I must likewise show it, myself

And what an ally he can be!
A valiant shield toward rash folly
A stalwart guardian against haste

No true value comes without price
This troublesome blessing much the same
Yet his service to you will outweigh much
What he bestows worth more than gold

Monday, June 2, 2014

The Melancholy Knight

A poem about the lonely struggle that ends in neither a breach with God nor happiness on earth in Him.


This sullen man walks a grim path
A lonely road lit only by faith
He marches with dour resignation
For him peace is but a pale wraith

He seeks God and rest, a satisfied mind
Yet he finds none, on his silent walk
Utterly alone, he shambles onward
Only God and his sword for talk

His faith holds on, he does not break
Yet like a moon on a cold night,
He is only bright in contrast to the void
The radiance of beautiful day is not his light

Forward he marches, ever forward
Bearing the burdens of the down
He spends his strength on their comfort
Yet in return they do not even see his frown

He doubts not his cause, nor God
Though his trail is joyless and bleak
His journey gives no happiness
To none on this road can he speak

His sword arm has become lethargic,
He fights his battles without heart
Enthusiasm dampened by his melancholy
The taste of yet more struggle is tart

Though faith held only by a thin string
God has not fully forsaken him,
His ties to his duty and life do not snap,
Though his cop of sorrows is filled to the brim

He walks this dark path to a dark end
Yet he will not renounce his God
His misery endures, yet he with it
A perseverance most odd

Saturday, May 17, 2014

A deathly opener



To start with, how about a nice poem about death? Welcome to my blog!



Death

Who are you that challenges me?
Know you, whom you defy?
None are delivered from me,
Doubt not our acquaintance!

I am neither friend nor enemy.
Praise me, curse me, all is irrelevant.
No wealth, nor poverty dissuades me,

You are all equal in my court!

I am eager for our embrace,
Lurking forever over your shoulder.
Observing as your thread unrolls,

Always I am a near companion.

Only that which is eternal endures past me.
To God alone do I answer,
And all of Creation dreads my power!
Even the Son of Man felt my touch, if briefly.

I am terrifying to behold,
The end product of all wrong.
Yet in truth I am less final than imagined,
For I am only a messenger.

Just as you are delivered to me,
As soon as I have grasped you,
I must turn you over to another.
No sooner are we acquainted, we part.

Yet one day I myself shall suffer,
The same fate that I inflict on others.
Though I am nearly absolute, nearly eternal,
divine mercy seals my fate.