Going to NYC today. May or may not have time to post. Cheers. 10732299daniel millerThursday, March 14, 2002publishmight have to give micha a break for a while. super busy and at a critical juncture in the story... 10664219daniel millerTuesday, March 12, 2002publishagain i've posted this before but it bears repeating <a href="http://www.btinternet.com/~smallritual/indexframe.html">small ritual</a>: Church as third place Imagine the unlocking of the doors. Imagine the re-emergence of church interiors as public spaces in the city. Imagine if the worship installations could stay up all the time. Imagine your local church building as an open-doored hangout. Imagine sofas, visuals, newspapers, books, food, drink. Imagine a church with good coffee. Imagine a church with plenty of places to plug in your laptop. Imagine opening hours 10am to midnight. Imagine spiritual resources and personal space available at all times. Imagine a place to work, rest and pray. Your living room only bigger. Your life only bigger. Rolling community: The constant presence of staff & punters deals with the commitment problem. It creates 'rolling community' - there's no need to all be in the same place at the same time. It works like Cheers or the Queen Vic, or films like 'Slacker' and 'La Ronde' - as one set of characters leave another set arrive. All are connected by the bar staff [who themselves come and go] or one or two members who exchange groups. These are bearers of news, conveyors of messages etc. Everybody does some connecting in this way. The community is a network, not a spoked wheel dependent on a few at the centre. 10620967daniel millerMonday, March 11, 2002publishLast night I had this funky dream that I hesitate to share, because it's quite a disclosure; but the end result is so great that I guess I will. Just don't continue if you aren't ok with that kind of thing. Pretty simple. Miriam and I weren't married in this dream; I was married to someone else! But it was just M and I in the dream, and we had such an attraction to each other, but we were trying to be good people, and I was trying to be faithful to my "wife." But that passion was so there, in the air between us, and we both knew it and knew we knew it, but we were just trying to resist it. That was it. Nothing else happened. My subconscious switched gears or blanked out and I don't remember anything else. And it's rare that I remember dreams anyway, unless they wake me up they're so bad. Usually when I remember them like this one it's God. And this morning I woke up loving M more than ever. This happens every day anyway, but this morning it was almost tangible. I had the "new lovers" feeling. I was like "Yes! WE are married!" It was on a very emotional level. The level you can never conjure purposefully but that level that can conjure you. 10619502daniel millerpublishWent on a bike ride this morning, and for the first time in Florida I think, felt that euphoric feeling and closeness with nature that always kept me riding in the past. At one point I came up this little rise on A1A, and the ocean just opened up next to me. Most of the time on A1A you actually can't see the ocean. But this section was a high section, and the trees just opened up, and there was the ocean. It was so beautiful. The morning sun was hitting it, and it looked so blue. I really could've been on the PCH riding north instead of on A1A riding south. I was crankin' in my big chain ring and I could feel the road under my tires and the wind in my face, and I just took a big ol' breath of God. Now I remember. Were my high school days, riding and having such a close community in my cycling team, really the closest I've ever come to true Church? Every day experiencing the pillars of faith--true community and true worship--out on that road with just two tires beneath me. The morning air was somewhat cool, and it had that morning, clean smell. It rained a lot last night. It really was a new day. It could've been Tucson 1995 for all I knew. It could have been lost somewhere in the hills of PA, 1992 or all I knew. 10619325daniel millerpublish<a href="http://www.jesusradicals.com/main/essays/manifesto.html">Jesus Radicals - manifesto</a>: I Pledge Allegiance to Jesus, not the Flag by Fred Bahnson 10590126daniel millerSunday, March 10, 2002publish�Here�s the deal.� Micha paused before she continued, as if she was thinking something. Seeing her son there, for the first time in six years, she felt like a mother again. Almost nostalgic. Soft. The warm fuzzies were washing over her like the slowest, longest orgasm ever. She could just start jittering around in the aisles like those revival fools in Brownsville. Holy orgasm. �Can I tell you a story? Like in the old days? You remember that, how I used to tell you stories when you were a kid?� GS didn�t have time or capacity to respond. No. No. No. Not happening. This is not happening. �Ok.� One last pause. A look of veiled compassion and honest inquisitiveness is exchanged for one of utter confusion and disbelief. �There once was this store. A �mom and pop� store, as we used to say. It was owned by this nice old couple. This nice old jewish couple, not that that means anything. �And there was this young guy who worked at this store. He worked hard for these people, and they showed him no respect. They were nice to everyone but their only employee. They could respect everyone but the one person they were with all day. All day, they jabbed and nagged him. �They probably knew that he was an addict. �And this addict had a friend. �Less a friend than a mother to a fetus. �And I happen to know that mother. His name is John. I call him Johnny. You have to learn how to treat men so they don�t try to screw you. Literally. �Anyway, addict boy was having his umbilical cord pinched, and he was in a pinch. So AB told Johnny some stuff about the jewelry store. Some important stuff.� No. No. No. Not happening. This is not happen-- �I�ve got all the ducks in a row already. I have never done anything this big before, and it requires two people. I�ve never worked with anyone before. But this one is definitely worth it and definitely worth the risk. There is hardly any risk. You know that is my way. I never take risks. That�s why I�m still alive and free. You probly thought that I�d be in jail by now, didn�t you? �Didn�t you?� �Yea. �Yes.� �Well I�m too smart for that. Your mom is too smart for that. And you�re a product of me! That�s why you�re so smart!� Micha�s voice reached new heights, a little squeak entering the end of her words like she was a real mother with real children doing real things like scoring a goal at soccer practice or winning second prize at the science fair. Like this was real life. No. ��[blah blah blah]�� This isn�t real life. ��[blah blah blah]�� No. ��[blah blah blah]�� I don�t think so. ��[blah blah blah]�� �Mom, can�t we talk about something normal? For once? Let�s talk about my school, or the weather, or what you had for breakfast for Christ�s sake?!�� �Oh. Right. Ok! Great!� No. ��[blah blah blah]�� 10589494daniel millerpublish