Fish & Chips Part 11

Dicky woke up groggy and hollow.

He got up and used the bathroom and looked out the window. Then he showered with the water as hot as he could stand.

He toweled off carefully and re-inspected his wounds. They had closed up nicely. He felt weak and nervous. He no longer wanted to smoke. He threw down the pack and left them for the girl.

When he came out into the small kitchen she was waiting in a robe and coffee was on.

"Will you come back," she asked looking away, "or will you go?" she asked turning to him.

"Well I'd like to get to know me," he said.

"I'd say you've already done that," she said flatly.

"I mean who you are, what you like, what you think...simple stuff."

She smiled. "I felt it?"

"Felt what?" he asked.

"The baby," she said.

He wasn't sure he had heard correctly, or maybe he just was in shock.

"You have a baby?"

"NO," she laughed, "We have a baby."

He sat down and laughed it off. What the hell was she talking. She must be crazy he thought.

"Last night, around 4 a.m. when you were driving me real hard," she said directly. "Do you remember that?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well that is when I knew," she said without emotion. "I see and feel things that others miss."

"So you believe you are pregnant from last night?"

"I know I am," she said. "Hopefully she will have my eyes and your height."

He turned to her and looked hard into those eyes. They were beautiful and deep and wide. It was always in the eyes. Damn.

"I wanted it to be you," she said not unkindly.

"Why me?" he asked incredulous.

"You blushed in the store," she said. "And you made eye contact in an unusual way. I told you I see things. I saw you at my window when I was in the store. At first I was disappointed," she said flatly and looking off.

"But there is more in you than you realize," she said. "And now there is more of you in me than you realize." With this last statment she giggled a bit.

Even he had to smirk at the remark. Then he returned to his fear, which was mounting.
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oh...just keep reading....

Fish & Chips Part 12

He walked out a bit guarded. No dog. He thought about his chips but heard the dog behind the fence growl.

"Thanks Felix," he said under his breath.

She had hugged him at the door in a weird way. There, but not there. Then she said "You need to eat more fish."

He thought she was crazy with talk of fish and babies and the way she had sucked almost all the life out of him in one evening.

He hobbled toward home feeling skanky and thin.

When he got home the cat bolted out the door and he headed for his room and crashed like a 747 on fire.

The phone rang at 2 p.m. It rang again at 4 and 6:15.

His dreams were sporadic. He saw a woman with golden hair in one. She was naked and beautiful but as he mounted her she laughed at him. He laughed back. Then turned over into a dark-haired woman who wanted his hands and only that.

She gasped often and moaned loudly...then he was in the sea and he was swimming underwater but could breath. His only child was swimming and laughing alongside him. They were catching wild crayfish but they so often slipped away. They laughed. Her eyes lighted up.

He woke up and realized that he did not have a child. He felt sick.

He walked into the bathroom, wretched and sat down on the floor.
___________________________

Fish & Chips Part 13

He slumped against the wall and started to cry. Then he climbed into the tub and turned on the steam and he actually prayed.

But he didn't feel any better after. He dried off and bandaged his ankle proper and the gash to his rib.

And he thought about the girl.

It was less than 24 hours since he had seen her. Actually it was about the same time.

He heard a small knock at the door.

When he opened it there was a small vase with flowers in it. She was sitting quietly at the stairs.

There was a small card. It said "believe in love. Z."

He was once again stunned. It seemed to him that she was always one step ahead of him.

He stepped down the stairs.

"How did you know where I live?"

"I looked in your wallet when you showered Richard," she said straight.

"No one calls me Richard," he said kindly. "I go by, well, Dicky."

"Dicky?!" she laughed.

"Yeah...I got this think for the old Allman Brothers," he said.

"Oh yeah," she said exhaling smoke. "Dickey Betts."

He sat down next to her.

"Can I have a smoke?"

She offered one in silence.

He smelled the fresh tobacco and took in the first draw then stubbed it out. Then he smelled her neck.

"How's the baby?" he asked openly.

"She is well."

"Do you dream often?" he asked.

"No. never." she answered. "I just see what I see in daylight. I do not always like it, but I liked seeing you yesterday."

"What did you like?" he asked selfishly. "I mean, you are a walking enigma."

"I'll tell you," she said drawing a deep smoke. Then she let it out and turned and looked him in the eyes. "But you first. You have more to say."

He laughed aloud. "How can you be so sure!?"

"I see what I see."

"Are you always right?"

"No. But more often than not."

"Okay, it seems you will always win," he said and she smiled off.

"You are so small I did not take notice at once. I think we passed on an aisle and you took me in. yes, I know it."

"I did do that."

"I was just trying to get chips and dip and I have this weird thing about veggies."

"You dropped the bags"

"I thought it was one."

"It was two. I loved you for that."

"You loved me for dropped dead lettuce and decided you wanted a baby with me?"

"No you decided, I only saw it ahead of you."
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be careful what you look at...

Fish & Chips Part 14

He looked down and only saw the pattern in the ground. Just squares and dirt. She lay her head against his shoulder and he felt her dark cool hair.

"What do you mean about my deciding?" he finally asked after a time.

"You saw me and decided to follow me home," she said. "I could feel you behind. I could almost see through your eyes as you watched me. That is why I was not afraid."

"Not even when I came in your window?" as he asked this he remembered her look and knew it was a stupid question. He had been the one who fled and had fallen.

"Okay, your turn," he said softly.

"Why did you come down?"

"I saw her and wanted her to live and you were a part of her," she said simply.

"Are you crazy?" he asked.

"No. I once was...but no more. What shall we name her?"

"You're the visonary" he said sarcastically. Then he felt bad.

"I'm tired," he said. "Come."

He led her upstairs. It was hot in the apartment. He opened the window and got her some ice tea. She looked up sorrowful and yet whole.

He started to cry, and slumped onto the bed and fell asleep alongside her small frame.
______________________

Fish & Chips Part 15

He woke up much as he had the night before, She was there close and unexpected.

He rolled her off and turned on the small light.

She was a simple beauty. He looked at her belly and wondered. Her shirt was slightly hitched up and he could see the steel ring in her tanned button.

Above he saw her breasts that excited him as she slept. But he was troubled.

"Fish and chips" he muttered.

"Oh fuck!!" he thought. It was at least near seven and there he was in bed.

She roused and slumped back. "Where are you going?" she asked straight.

He sat down. He liked her weird straightness in information. It was a strange comfort to him.

"Felix asked me to meet him at the gym today," he said. "I'll be back soon." Then he kissed her on the mouth to let her know his intention and gathered up his bags and left.

She sat back and had new visions.
______________________

Felix and Dicky...

Fish & Chips Part 16

He flashed his ID at the young girl behind the counter and looked for Felix

He wasn't there, so he dressed down and did some basic warmups then hit the treadmill.

He slapped on headphones and a soundtrack that energized him. But he felt tired. He did more walking than running.

Felix came up after 20 minutes.

"Sorry bro," he said.

"No problem," he said. "Just glad you are here."

Felix ginned, which made Dicky feel strangely good.

They ran alongside for awhile then quit and headed for the weight room.

"How's your back?" Felix finally asked.

"oh...hell...fine," he said. "Yeah...no it was...sheesh...look at this and this"

He showed him the gash down his ribs and then the deep marks on his ankle.

"That dog got diseases?"

"Naw...no way man" said Felix. "Besides, you deserved it Bro."

Dicky laughed. "Yeah, I did." he said. "You drink my beers?"

"Naw, I got them on ice," he said. "But I ate your chips and dip."

They finished a series of weights and hit the hot tub.

Dicky laid back and let the water foam around him.

"So what do you think?"

"You're a madman, man" Felix said.

"Yeah," he said. "Tell me what you've seen."

"Uh...men...you know...they come and go...but never stay."

"She ever talk to you?"

"She told me once my dog was sick, and he was" Felix said. "I think she is deep trouble man. Bad news...dark and wrong."
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After the hot tubbing...

Fish & Chips Part 17

They showered and changed and shook hands and he said to Felix, "why don't you follow me home. We'll have a beer."

"Your beer is at my place," said Felix grinning.

"Okay, let's go."

The air was soft that night even though it was near 9 p.m. He felt good.

They drove back by Felix's place and Felix made a great show of introducing Rufus to Dicky. They made their peace and later Dicky brought down Rufus' dinner for him and patted his head and ruffled his ears. They shared a brown ale and some left over chips and onion dip.

He looked up and saw the light was on.

A small part of him wanted to bolt. He still could. But he kept looking up. he thought about her. It was crazy, but it resonated within him.

He climbed up the stairs and as he hit Felix's door he saw her sitting on the stairs about half the way down.

"I was on my way up," he said evenly.

"Yes, I know," she said almost laughing.

"Give me a minute?"

"Your life," she said, stubbing out her cigarette.

"Really?" he said eyeing her carefully.

"Really."

Testosterone

Mac was busy working and I was bored.

"Let's go for a drink ass," I said sweetly.

"Give me 30 minutes," he called out.

Fuck.

When he came out of his oro-fice, he looked like hell. Bushy Bill Clinton hair, unshaven, dark rings under his eyes.

"You look Fab!" I said. Let's go!

We pulled into the parking lot where they have a nice sushi bar. But we had to wait because this little blonde 25-year-old housewife was parked in the middle of the road in a Navigator the size of the Santa Maria.

I was irate.

We finally parked, but as we crossed the clearly marked intersection a small truck made a sudden move and revved up his engine like he was gonna run us over. I stopped but Mac kept walking unhindered. He actually glared.

Now I have to say that Mac was not in a good mood already. He had just taken the trash out 10 minutes before and an inkjet needle had pierced the bag as he squashed it down.

"GahFugh!!" he cried out.

"What?" I asked. I looked at his hand and black or blue ink was pouring out all over along with a lot of rich red blood.

"If you had yellow you could print stuff right here in the parking lot," I offered with my usual empathy.

"You are buying," he snarled back.

So when the guy revved his engine Mac looked back into the cabin of his truck like "what the fuck are you thinking?"

And he held eye contact until he realized (we talked about it later) he realized the guy was just high on testosterone.

I mean what else would make a man, probably 5' 8", out of shape and pudgy think he could do anything to a guy who could start on the offensive line of a semi-pro team (except that he'd have to run...not so good)?

Personally, I have seen this before. I think people pick up on his non-violent nature and do not see how stupid it might be to attack a guy 6'6" and 280 lbs. (gotta get that Ass into the gym).

Anyway, Mac just glared and held eye-contact.

I didn't.

Once the truck was stopped and he was saying something after Mac, I walked up to his door and crouched down and looked the fucker in the eyes not four inches from his face.

"My friend is a reasonable man and I suggest you not mess with him today," I said sweetly.

"Oh really?" he said. "Well fuck you and your friend!" he said then looked over at his young comrade.

"Look you have had just a bit too much testosterone in your diet," I said. "Not getting any at home? I suggest more masterbation."

"He popped the door, which was a real mistake because the inbetween of a door and a truck is like a rock and a hard place.

So, yeah, I squished him, "Gaagul..." he gasped.

Then Mac came after me.

"Forget it Maug...he's just...oh hell..I dunno," he sighed.

The man groaned and I gave him a quick slap on the left cheek...not too hard.

"Don't be stupid. It's a beautiful day and you have made it ugly," I said. "And do NOT threaten people with your truck again idiot."

We left it at that and as we walked toward the sushi bar Mac shook his head and said "men are idiots. But why did you have to slap him?"

"I dunno. Just seemed the thing to do. You gonna get the Icura Madness?"

"Naw. Not today."

Human Interest, Part 1

It seems God and humanity are interested in what interests humanity.

Certainly you are. Sit down with a pad of paper and make a short list of the ten things that interest you most.

If you get stuck...just look at what you do. As an old friend said "people really do what they really wanna do". Look at what you do and you will see what you are interested in. Works every time and it cuts through the BS of what we "should" be interested in. Look at what you do and it will tell most of the story.

Some people's interests are very simple: beer, sex, wrestling on TV, porn, their vehicle, house, dog, a close friend, a gun collection and reality TV.

Others are equally simple: Box seat at the Met, a split of bordeaux, a BMW 300DL, an Armani suit with ten others in the lighted closet, ten pairs of shoes, an Andy Warhol original, marble counter tops, Kiehl's products in the bathroom, three attractive women waiting online at 11 p.m. and a plasma screen TV playing The Matrix over and over.

Other boil their ten down to like three, with one leading. We call this a "fetish" rightly or wrongly.

But it is all about interest. Interesting isn't it?
_________________________________
As always...part two coming soon...I can't help it now that I am interested.

Human Interest, Part 2

I sat next to Mac at the Coffeehouse and he looked down.

"What's wrong brother ass?" I asked.

"She's dis-interested," he said.

"How can that be?" I asked. "You're a fascinating guy...god who can keep up with you?"

"Not the issue," he said sadly. "They do not pay you to be creative, intelligent, thoughtful and visionary unless major commodities result or you have an agent out selling you."

"You're broke," I said flatly.

"No, I got 8 rolls of pennies under my cutting board and $100 in SF".

"Not bad for 48 years of age," I said without cruelty. He laughed.

"Yeah, but that $100 will collect interest," he said with a Han Solo smirk.

Passion and interest is an interesting thing. One thing immediately shows up with Maslow and his hierarchy of needs. I guess Mac needs money. Gotta have money to collect interest...interest of all kinds.

"She is dis-interested" he said flatly.

"Interested in someone else?" I asked slyly (frankly I'd like to bed her).

"You are a dog Maugham," he said shaking his head.

"Sorry" I feigned, "so what next?"

"The inevitable," he said. "Slowly moving apart..hopefully peacfully and without recrimination. That is all you can hope for."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Why do you always assume it was me?"

"Well track-record. It's like the horses."

"Sigh," he moaned," okay I suppose ...yeah. I mean Maugham. you have known me since 1988...ever met a woman that can hang with me?"

"I don;t know. I've never found it that interesting a subject to be honest."

"Well, there ya go."
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Part 3 manana sports fans...

Human Interest, Part 3

Okay, okay...I never spoke at this church. I called but they weren't interested in the interesting topics I had in mind. Later I called the Unitarians...not interested either. Finally, a convalescent home where I was greeted with much fanfare and a large bowl of rice pudding.

In the meantime I did go by there, meet the janitor, and when he wasn't looking I "borrowed" the lettering. I plan on doing this on a regular basis because I told him my name was Bob.

In the meantime, I didn't know how to help Mac, which he never noticed because, well I never help him. My sole interest is in picking at his wounds in a sardonic and humorous way when he least expects it. In an odd way this actually does help him, but only on the sly.

He's obviously in misery. He's such an attention whore (the whole ADHD thing) that I find it interesting to ignore him from time to time in conversation. He'll build up a big head of steam and be going full throttle and I'll gaze out the window and pretend to fixate on some other object or idea that is truly interesting as he prattles on (he was, after all, the Men's Freestyle Prattling champion in the Summer games in Barcelona).

That or I interrupt him with some wild tangent, then watch him fume.

Which is not often. As impulsive as he is, Mac has a lot of patience.

I do not and I find this line of thinking very uninteresting.

So what is interest?

Well, the word literally means "to be inbetween" but we do not usually use it so forcefully. Admittedly, when a man in deeply interested in a woman the above definition does fit.

But what of compound interest, self-interest, vested interest, shared interest, and interest groups?

And what of related categories like curiousity, attraction, entertainment, hobbies and love interests?

For example, I am listening to Sheryl Crow, whose music and lyrics interest me. I am blogging away and wondering what readers will find interesting and not. I am interested in how today will go...what I will cook, and drink and if I will make love to a woman. I am interested in my emails and whether the weather will remain cool here. I'm interested in where this whole piece is going because I really, as usual, have no idea.

That's the part that keeps me interested.
________________________________

Part four on the way...

Human Interest, Part 4

Lance is interested in Sheryl, who is interested in Lance. Lots of folks were interested in Lance's bid to win his 7th straight Tour, and others are interested in Sheryl's next tour. They are an interest magnet.

The interest is obvious because I can use their first names alone amidst 6.5 billion people on Earth and you know who they are.

But only now. Later...two years from now, that interest may wane. Their own interest in each other may dissipate. Human beings are hard to keep engaged. They gain and lose interest easily and then gain new interests unless they simply give up and become irrevocably bored.

It seems often that we are on one side of interest or the other, whether it is monitary interest or personal interest.

And we spend so much time trying to gain the interest of others when, really, so much of everything is about self-interest.

"What's in it for me?" seems the dominant question.

Kissing Your Brother

Mac's guest spot continues. Look for my interview with him in a few days on his site where I kick his wuss-ass. -Maugham
_______________________

Okay, I promised, then forgot to tell about kissing painter Rod Swenson.

There is really not much to tell except in the way of qualifiers.

I have never been homophobic. My best friend in High School was gay, I'm not. I never thought much about it. I just enjoyed his company. He was beautiful, and frankly, so was I.

He never hit on me and I never questioned him in any way. I was a strange irony too because he was a "Christian" and I really enjoyed being an utter heathen. Later he would chuck his own faith and I had a radical conversion experience.

As Vonnegut would say "so it goes".

Still I've never changed in that regard. I have always had friends who were gay, both men and women. I use to work for Life Lobby, which lobby's heavily for both human rights and also for more AIDS research. The head of Life Lobby (a wonderful woman) use to question me quite thoroughly about my Christianity.

I understood. I really loved her and her partner. Still do.

Anyway, I can hear someone saying (fucking neo-freudians) why all the qualifiers?

Are you an idiot?

(Damn, I come on Maug's site and I start to act like him all belligerant and stuff).

Just because I see people...live people. I happen to find women devastating. That's it.

________________

So one day, my good friend and painting mentor Rod Swenson shows up at my door for a party.

There is something immediately comic about both of us. Something over-done...unmistakenly ironic. We both look out of place and are in so many ways.

yet somehow compelling. I doubt anyone who has ever met Rod will ever forget him. Probably same for me.

So, he shows up at my door, and it was a grand place...the same place in the picture.

_____________________

Next...the place...

Kissing Your Brother Part 2

Part Two...
________________

Okay , this guy I'm not about to kiss though he calls me "FagDonald" and has for twenty-five years or so.

I bring up Rodan (Mike Roe) because you need to understand the lunatic fringe that swept through the San Francisco style house up on the hill in Landpark (Sacramento) in the 90's.

It wasn't just Rod Swenson, or Rodan (of the 77's)...it was a whole cacophony of incredibly talented wierdos. Hogboy, John Spritz, actor Victor Wong, visionaries like Jim Seyman and Thomas Whitney.

Then the usual drop-ins (you know who you were).

One night Rodan and I sat up on the deck after the U2 Zooropa concert at Arco. He smoked and I drank and we lamented the end of a great rock band.

Boy were we wrong. Shit.

_____________________

So the party started and we had invited poets, theologians, artists, musicians and other folk to come and share food, alcohol and their offerings. It was a cool summer night, which is not usual in Excramento.

Other arrived and then the bell rang again leading oput to our exquisite courtyard.

There stood Rod, with that utterly ridiculous half grin on his face. His eyes slightly sad, but strangely hopeful. It made me laugh. We just had a connection. So we both simultaneously kissed each other on the lips.

No tongues, no stuff. It was kinda like what St. Paul says about "greeting one another with a holy kiss". It was defintely holy. And it surprised us both and we laughed at the door...for a few minutes...but also let it be what it was.

I love this guy. Simple.

Holy.

Interview with Mac Part 1

Recently Maugham Malraux sat down with Mac and interviewed him, a project he had been pestering him about for years. The following is a record of their candid conversation about spiritiuality, religion, the arts and relationships.
____________________________________

MM: Well I often call you a "wuss" in popular discourse, so I must say I am surprised you agreed to this. It's hard enough to get you out for coffee, so O reclusive one, can you tell us why you agreed to do this?

MAC: I thought it about time to address some fairly controversial things and I knew you would be hard on me, yet fair and direct.

MM: Oh great...an agenda?

MAC: Yeah sure. You know damn well I am a subversive.

MM: How did that happen, where did that come from?

MAC: I think I have always had a heart for those oppressed or used by others. When I was younger there was nothing I could do. I was one of the powerless. Later, after my conversion, I suddenly became empowered. You can see the pattern woven throughout my life. I fought cults in the 80s, worked hard in the 90's on church renewal and now am a strong critic of Consumer Christianity.

MM: I have never got the "Christian" thing with you. You seem too smart and you rail against religion every bit as much as I do, though I think you wuss out.

MAC: Well first of all the label "Christian" should be understood as an irony.

MM: An irony? You are shitting me.

MAC: "I wouldn't shit you boy. Yer my favorite turd." Name that movie.

MM: Easy, Cool Hand Luke. Now answer the fookin question.

MAC: The only time the name "Christian" is used in the Bible is in Acts as a term of derision by those who felt threatened by this new faith. The irony is that it is now still a term of derision but for the opposite reasons.

In the early days of the young church they were an anomaly in the community because they had fresh faith and they were known for their love for people, both Jews and Gentiles. Their only power was in their serving others and in their love and faith. That was a threat in the face of the dominant political and religious power structures.

Now we have a situation where the word "Christian" has become synonymous with the dominant political and religious power structures in America. So when I meet someone and they find that I am a "Christian" they assume I am a Right-Wing, Pro-War, Capitalist, Judgmental A-Hole.

MM: And yet you are none of those things except being an A-Hole.

MAC: Right. So we need a new term...maybe "iChristians"

MM: Will that play on my iPod?

MAC: Well, it would raise the question, "what the hell is an iChristian?"

MM: What the hell is an iChristian?

MAC: An ironic one numbnuts. You need more coffee?

MM: No, I'm drinking wine.

MAC: At 10 a.m. in the morning, are you crazy?

MM: I thought it would be more fun because you are so damned serious all the time.

MAC: True. Sorry.

MM: Wuss.
______________
Next...

Interview with Mac Part 2

Maugham malraux on location.

Part Two.

MM: I want to pursue this thing about the church a little further. You know I am not a Christian or religious at all, so I am curious about it from the outside. What is up with the church in Amerca?

MAC: Well that is too big a question to get into any detail. Some people would look at it through the lens of a culture war. That'd be one way to look at it...but there are probably about 30 different ways to analyze the huge, almost tectonic shifts that are constantly occurring now.

MM: So of those 30 lenses, how do you see it?

MAC: Well you know I am a big Kierkegaard fan.

MM: You read that shit?

MAC: Yeah, because I can and you can't.

MM: Settle down...don't get testy or I'll have to smack you in the nose.

MAC: Kierkegaard lived in Denmark at a time when the Church was supported by the State. It was a situation very akin to where current Christian "Dominionists" would like to see America fall. The ministers of the official Church were actually paid by the State.

Now that is not what these folks want...they want even more. They want to dictate to the State. So it's potentially worse than Denmark in Kierkegaard's day.

Kierkegaard saw the inherent insanity of this and called them out. One guy...just one little guy with a brilliant mind and a small inheritance so he could publish at will.

Kierkegaard made the distinction, and we should to, between "Christendom" and "Christianity". The latter is a living faith deeply connected to God across all denominations, both inside and outside the established "Church".

"Christendom" is the hardened shell of organized religion which reflects the political and economic ambitions of those in power.

Kierkegaard saw the two as utter antithetical.

I do too.

MM: Thanks for the post-graduate lesson in Kierkegaard.

MAC: You asked. What do you want me to say...organized religion is doo-doo? Okay. There.

MM: But you were once an ordained minister.

MAC: Thanks for bringing that up. That's one reason why I do not do interviews.

MM: So weren't you a part of the establishment?

MAC: I was very lucky. I was in a sort of renegade church. Now a days they are very mainstream, which makes me sad, but back then it was very much about loving people, serving them and also loving God. In many ways they were anti-comsumer Christianity. Kids who couldn't afford to go to camp always went anyway, the senior pastor took no salary (a whole other story) and the rock concerts we did on Saturday nights were always free (and quite expensive to put on). No, people and God really came first.

So, no I can honestly say I have never been a part of the establishment. In fact, in any church I have ever been to I am usually met with some degree of suspicion.

MM: Why?

MAC: I imagine it is because I am both fully trained as a scholar/teacher and I am unrepressed and honest, come what may.

MM: Do you regret it..all those years of training?

MAC: No, not at all. In fact few people I have ever met have been exposed to all I have. Hermeneutics, exegesis, Greek and Hebrew studies and the writing of church history across all lines: the Desert Father, Athanasius, Ireneaus, The English Puritans, Pascal, Kierkegaard and then the moderns, etc... 2,000 years of great theological writings and thought.

MM: Are you bragging?

MAC: Er, maybe...I don't get out much.
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Part three on the way...

Interview with Mac Part 3

Part Three

MM: Do you go to a church now

MAC: No.

MM: Why not?

MAC: My girlfriend likes to watch Spongebob on Sunday mornings.

MM: And here I thought you had no sense of humor.

MAC: I'm serious.

MM: Did you do lots of hallucinogens in the 70s?

MAC: No.

MM: So whereas you use to go to church on Sunday mornings with your wife and kids, now you get up on Sundays with your girlfriend, who you live with, and watch Spongebob instead?

MAC: I find Patrick very inspiring.

MM: You're joking.

MAC: Yes, just reminding you that I still have some vestige of humor left even though I gave almost all of it to you.

MM: I think that was wise by the way, because you can be a real drag.

MAC: Thanks. Remember I could erase you at any moment.

MM: Ooooo, I'm scared. You can't fool me. You are a benevolent creator who is far too merciful, plus you love us rascals the best.

MAC: I'll cop to that. "Ask your question bridgekeeper I'm not afraid!" Name that movie.

MM: Oh do get off. Not worth my time. Er, and don't think I didn't notice you derailed us.

Sunday mornings?

MAC: Okay. You have three choices. You can go to a Baby Boomer church were you sit passively and watch the music, the little play, the announcements and the sermon. Then you have coffee (or lattes in the newer ones). Then you go home.

Or you can stay home and turn on one of the TV churches and do all the same things from your couch in utter passivity.

Or you can watch Spongebob.

MM: I see your point. Hmnnn...

MAC: I still do "Church".

MM: But you said...

MAC: I said I did not go to a church on Sunday mornings. I did not say I did not do Church.

I did Church last week meeting with Rick for coffee.

MM: You have been outside another time this week?

MAC: Yes. We meet often for a few hours. It's active, engaging and we both learn. I also email back and forth with people all over the world in an open and very spiritual way.

MM: Christians?

MAC: iChristians...just kidding. Actually they are of all persuasions, beliefs and political affiliations. I would say this, they are all spiritual in their own ways and also very honest. I see a deep connection between honesty, spirituality and even faith.

This is why I see the current juggernaut of political and religious power in America as opposing spirituality and faith. It certainly fails the "love test" that Jesus and the early writers of the New Testament preached.

America is the New Roman Empire and the only answer to the joining of political, economic, and militaristic power under the banner of religion is to be subversive.

The Gospel is inherently subversive while being trans-historical and trans-cultural.

MM: God I forget sometimes how much I hate talking with you. You are SOOOO boring! I'm having a third glass of wine because I can see you are winding up so I wanna get a little tight so I can kick your ass.

MAC: Again, you asked. I admit I am pretty humorless. It's why I became a writer, because I am so annoying in person. I admit that. I do not get how my girlfriend can stand me. Of course, my two ex-wives couldn't.

MM: Was that an attempt at humor?

MAC: Er, I suppose. Can we move on?
_________________
Next...

Interview with Mac Part 4

Roy batty playing chess with his maker in Bladerunner.
_______________

Part 4

MM: You used an old word "Gospel". When I think of that word I think of tent preachers threatening people with hellfire and damnation.

MAC: Well the word simply means "Good News", which is another irony because so many people make it utterly bad news.

Imagine two newspapers delivered to your door. One is pretty much like the one you get today filled with the bad news of murders, rape, incest, scancals and all manner of perversion.

MM: Wait. All manner, or just some?

MAC: Okay, some manner of perversion...the kinda that is bad news for somebody.

Then to that add threats of terrorism, both global and local. Then add to that the secret negative thoughts and judgments of all those around you...in daily print. Then a full page add on the final page, supposedly from God saying "I've been watching, you are in deep shit."

MM: I'd cancel my subscription..

MAC: Really? Do you?

That would be the Bad News newspaper and is representative of those who try and scare/terrorize people for religion's sake.

The Good News newspaper would also arrive. It would not gloss over the realities which had happened, but they would not be front page news by any means. Perhaps they would be in section H with opportunities to help and care for victims.

But the front page would be about how God loves the world and all the ways that had happened, through real people the last 24 hours. It would all be good news. But straight and sober, not saccharin.

It would also be about how people love people just as much. Maybe they do not believe in God, but they believe in love.

That is also Gospel. Good news is good news.

In the midst of hard realities it would also be a celebration of all that is good news.

The relief efforts in Africa, the success of some new medical procedure in France, growing political pressure to bring safety to those under siege in. All the births, and I mean all of them. The woman who beat breast cancer, the man who fixed his elderly neighbor's house. The cop who talked the man off the bridge, the young couple who took a homeless man out to dinner. Love letters, how many times that day people comforted each other in distress. How many times people forgave each other and made new starts.

It's hard for me to even describe Maug, because it is so contrary to what we know. But to answer your question "Gospel" just means "good news". Anything that emphasizes all that is bad is not "Gospel".

MM: Man, you can go on. So what's this trans-stuff. Is that like the margarine I'm supposed to buy at the store so I don't have a heart attack?

MAC: Yer a smart boy. I created you with enough stuff to translate that.

MM: "If only you could see what I see through your eyes..." Name that movie.

MAC: (sigh) Bladerunner...but that isn't the quote you are looking for.

MM: It isn't?

MAC: No, it's the words the replicant says to his creator just before he puts his thumbs through his eyes.

That what you got planned for me?

MM: Your optometrist did call the other day. I believe he said his name was Dr. Batty?

MAC: Very funny. Next question.
___________
Part 5...

Interview with Mac Part 5

We see through a mirror dimly...

Part 5

MM: Tell me about your art. Do you see that as some divine calling by God?

MAC: No, not at all.

Is it some special assigned calling to do my dishes? I think not. It's just a part of life. I happen to be artistic by nature. The best you can say is that all of our giftedness is somehow reflective of being created in the image of God.

MM: The image of God. You think I am created in the image of God?

MAC: No, you were created in the image of Mac, and I was created in the image of God.

MM: But I am better than you. I am certainly funnier.

MAC: I'll grant you that. You certainly have a freedom I do not enjoy, and if I was an envious being, I would envy you. But I don't. I rather enjoy you. I like that you are more successful than I am. I'm proud of you.

MM: But I just said I was better than you. You aren't even going to argue?

MAC: It's not an important category to me. You want to feel better than me. Good. Feel good Maugham.

MM: Okay, now you are just pissing me off. I think I have been too easy on you in this interview.

MAC: Why?

MM: Maybe it's because you look do sad. I dunno. Are you as sad as you look?

MAC: Perhaps. I certainly thought that things would go different than they have. I suppose that makes me sad. I've known a lot of loss. But that is the price of real human freedom, which is also a gift.

MM: How come you give me so much freedom?

MAC: I respect you and trust you more than you know. It's your life to do with as you please.

MM: How am I doing?

MAC: How do you think you are doing?

MM: I hate it when you do that.

MAC: That's for you to work out. I would suggest you stop drinking and pay attention to your notes.

MM: Is that an order.

MAC: Waiter!? Another Chablis for my friend.

Can we get back to image?

MM: Sure. I'm prettier than you.

MAC: Indeed. You are a sexy beast.

MM: Why did you make me so pretty?

MAC: It's a reflection of some aspect of myself.

MM: You narcissicist!!! How dare you?

MAC: No it's not for me, it's for you, and for others. I am quite content as I am. I only want you to thrive. However I do have a suggestion for you.

MM: Yeah, what is it.

MAC: Well when God created humanity in God's own image the reflected glory or image was "male and female". You need both.

MM: I've got plenty of women.

MAC: That's my point. "Getting women" and living in a relationship with a woman that is reflective is a big swing.

MM: Are you lecturing me?

MAC: No. Just something you might wanna look at. Your choice.

MM: Why do I suddenly feel like you have turned the tables on me?

MAC: Sorry. I may have done that subconsciously. I do care about you. But you are right. This is your interview and you should be harder on me.
_______

Part 6...

Interview with Mac Part 6

Paradise. Oil on Canvas. Mac

Part 6
_______________

MM: I want to get back to your art.

MAC: So would I. What time is it?

MM: It's only 11:15. Don't wuss out on me. Oh and by the way, this is what sunlight looks like.

Why do you paint?

MAC: I like the mess and physicality of it. Plus it is very hard, whereas writing now comes very easy for me.

I guess I like the challenge of creating something beautiful from nothing.

MM: But not all your paintings are beautiful.

MAC: I disagree, except for the failed ones. Funny you should say that. My father was here recently and off all my painting he by-passed the one I thought the most beautiful and loved the one least likely. Art is that way. It's intuitive. I like that as well.

With writing there is also a lot of intuition. I especially see that in your writing, but not so much in my own. The Saint has some of both.

MM: Oh you had to bring him up. Do you know how many emails I get asking about our relationship to each other. I think sometimes we should just come out and rent a big house on Crete.

MAC: Very funny. No, I need my privacy. You of all people should know that. No I will leave it to you two.

MM: Why did you create him? Wasn't I enough?

MAC: I am not given to flattery, but I must say you have far exceeding anything I could have ever hoped for. I admire your fearlessness, your humor and unique view of the world. I sometimes wish I was you.

The Saint is his own man. While also a fiction, he is smarter than both of us. He does not possess your humor or ironic sense of life, nor is he as grounded in the real world as I have to be.

Frankly we needed a philosopher, and neither you or I was really up to the task. Sorry if that hurts your feelings.

MM: You bastard.

MAC: Hey, you get all the funny lines and the female attention. And you get to publish first. You'll always be my fav.

MM: (sniff)... Okay. But if he makes a philosophical mistake I'm gonna get out the rubber hoses and let the beatings begin.

MAC: Yes, well that is why I endowed you with a certain ruthlessness which I could never possess.

MM: Wuss.

MAC: Yes, you could look at it that way, or as compassion.

MM: Whatpassion?

MAC: "Compassion". It means to "come alongside".

MM: I like to look in their eyes...especially the haughty religious and then engage them until they run.

MAC: yes. When you look in my eyes what do you see?

MM: Sadness. I told you that before.

MAC: Well let's take those haughty Religionists for example, in particular those you took on a few months back at the White Chocolate Jesus site.

You seemed to find some glee in banging them like a gong, overturning their tables and commencing with the beatings until they all fled.

True?

MM: Yes. I admit it. I liked it that they took out their usual weapons of blaming and shaming and I was undaunted and simply kept to the issues.

MAC: Did you feel dirty afterward?

MM: Hell no!

MAC: Well I watched the whole thing and it made me very sad. I felt dirty for you.

MM: Why?

MAC: Religion, and its hold on people, is based in fear and anger, rather than faith, hope and love.

It's not often really about God at all. Rather it is about ego, money, fear and power. You do not need those things if you really believe in God. You may have to deal with those inclinations and issues in your own life, or in society, but you will certainly not run to embrace them first, and certainly not in God's name.

The fact is, Yahweh is very anti-religious.

MM: Yah-Who? Is that the divine search engine?

MAC: Very funny. You know darn well smartass. And isn't it funny that the Religionists would stone you for such a comment but God is proabably laughing?

MM: Okay. You caught me. But Excuse me...HELLLOOO...God is anti-religious? Isn't that all religion is, is about God?

MAC: No, faith hope and love are about God.

Religion is about power, control and scapegoating others because we have fear and anger within us.

That is why I am sad for them. I think they mean well but their lack of love and humility makes it impossible for them to not do damage to others. Their need to be "right" excludes some very core realities.

MM: Such as?

MAC: Well, someone once said that in the eyes of God we are always "wrong". All of us. We all know this on some level, that we are fucked up and need help. But those most opposed to this idea are the very ones who are so vehement about the dark side of humanity. Another deep irony.

MM: So you hold a pessimistoc view of humanity?

MAC: No, not at all. In fact, I see God everywhere I go and in everyone. People are beautiful and the love of God swirls around them whether they are aware of it or not. The Religionists are too afraid to just let God be God and let grace flow. They have to try and control it, bottle it and then sell it with their brand on it.

It doesn't work that way. Thus I feel sad whenever I see a group of them open up a new corporate chain and bottle it when they might just as well let it flow freely.

MM: You know you really aren't any fun anymore.

MAC: I was never really any fun after 1986.

MM: What happened in 1986?

MAC: No comment, except that I am now an iChristian.

MM: What does that mean again?

MAC: It means we are waiting for a new paradigm to emerge that is honest, relational, filled with faith, hope and love lived out in time and space, and perhaps, even a return to the words and life of Jesus rather than a poltical/consumer agenda of fear and dead religion.

MM: You know, you should have been a preacher.

MAC: I'd rather be a recluse and a writer.