Peachy.

okay, so it took a lot longer than I anticipated, but here it is.

http://subsacred.wordpress.com/2011/06/06/dominion-over-the-earthii/

Also feel free to thumb through the rest of my wordpress.

The Translators

We were all in the attic, as usual. The three of us had been doing this for some time, now. In our own way, we were playing with our father's guns. It was there, though, that I learned what we could be. We all had our parts to play. The changes on Luke's face were like the changes of seasons. Ryan stood in front of him, describing the rhythm he envisioned. As Ryan beatboxed, Luke's face would slowly turn into a grin of disbelief, as if he wanted to say "you want me to play that, on drums?" Of course, though, he always found a way.

My memory of a great performance did not happen in a concert hall, in front of thousands. There were no flowers thrown, no standing ovations, no million dollar pay days. It was in a small classroom, a very small classroom. There was a dry erase board across the front wall, and there were desks, the space saver kind of desks, with the writing area barely the size of a sheet of paper. Fifteen violin and viola students sat in these desks, facing the white board, facing a lone inexpensive upright piano that was currently not being played. Fahad, however, was playing. His violin was beautiful, with dark varnish and tight grain. He is never satisfied with his instrument. That instrument is already long gone from his possession. At this moment, though, it was serving his purpose. Fahad played a Partita by J.S. Bach, staying fluid on one string and using a wide arm vibrato. We sat quietly, wide awake and wide eyed. When he finished, there wasn't even any need to applaud. Our professor's comment on his performance was almost as gorgeous as the previous moment. "Fahad, that was sensitive and mature playing." This comment, to me, became a grail.

I found out recently that not everyone in the world was a musician. Before I was a music major, I stood out; Ryan, Luke and I stood out. People told me that I loved music just a little more than everyone else, and I believed them. I had done it my whole life. It was only natural to go be a music major. I knew the talk, and I knew the life and so did all the other music majors. I was better at theory than most, I was slightly older than most, and I had more performing experience than most, but the fact remains that I was not the best violist there. I tried, but my constant rank was "most improved." I learned to hate that title. I graduated, cum laud, even, and moved away to find a "day job" and support my family. I found a part time job teaching violin, where I surprised myself when I excelled. I had to rediscover who and where I was. At school, we were all stars, and our luminance was so bright that individuals could not be spotted in the night sky. I have room to shine, now. I play as often as I can, and have earned my own coveted compliment. "When you play, I can hear the words."

Bipartisanship

I hope no one holds it against me that the oil spill heading for Louisiana and the Bottom Coast has really made me think about politics rather than the impending environmental disaster. I am especially thinking about this bipartisanship business that is such a hot topic in the press right now.

For example, President Obama recently removed the ban on offshore drilling. He called this a concession to bipartisanship, but I don't understand how. To me, it was throwing a bone to the conservatives. "Here is a concession, so shut up." This action could not have pleased the left, though, or environmentalists and people concerned with our planet. Bill Waterson said via Calvin and Hobbes "A Good Compromise Leaves Everyone Unhappy." The second the oil rig blew up, though, he yanked it right out of their mouths. I'm sure this action made his party happy with him (except, of course, for the Democrats on the Southern Coast where the Oil Business is so key) but left others reeling. Are our lawmakers trying? They speak of filibusters, majorities to avoid filibusters, midnight meetings and rush jobs before the other group has time to react.

Is this bipartisanship? Is there really no middle ground? I think most of you know I lean very conservative, but I really despise the righteous indignation that seems to characterize Conservblicans (think Fox News). Everywhere, people are so angry. Are party differences so drastic that this is really and truly war?

I really don't know what to do about it. I am a man of action; I actively take care of my family, and everyone else I can. What can I do for my country, because it is not doing for itself. I vote, but I don't trust anyone for whom I vote; not because I am afraid that they won't make my decision, but because I don't believe that they believe in the decisions that they are making. My current feeling is that I should start writing weekly letters to all politicians who represent me to tell them that I expect them to make the very best decisions they can.

Anyone who wants to be a politician, shouldn't.

new link

Hey everybody!

We've been seeing some great posts and dialogues here recently, with David M's poetry, my exposition on losing faith, and Dave V's thoughtful look at Avatar providing some really interesting thoughts. Keep it up! I have been unable to find anything that even compares to this blog here in my local surroundings, so I'm really thankful that we have the chance to do this.

Okay, enough cheerleading.

A new link has been added to the blog. Check out Mike Banys' artwork at his new site: http://www.michaelbanysart.org.

I've also added the link to my reverbnation page, where I post all of my music.

Take it easy, friends. And keep the words coming!

Ryan

Dominion Over the Earth (or Nature is for Panthies)

It’s been a few months since I’ve watched Avatar. I have to say it was a pretty amazing experience and the movie provoked a lot of thought and conviction.

Being a part of the Evangelical Christian world I know there have been mixed reactions to the movie, especially concerning its spiritual themes. Let me just say as a Christian I do not believe we should worship the creation rather than the creator, and in this sense I don’t feel that the Na’vi offer a flawless example of how I ought to revere nature. But despite this, I feel the movie speaks a very powerful message. Since I have yet to see Christians racing to present so vividly and successfully their perspective on the value of nature to the general public, I will make no apologies for admiring the allegedly pantheistic threat to Christianity that is Avatar.


I also realize some may argue that without the special effects and visuals the movie would not be nearly as good because the story wasn’t the greatest. And it is true that the story wasn’t all that original, the acting wasn’t exceptional, and the plot had some holes in it. However, I would argue that the imagery and effects used in Avatar serve as a major component of the story, and at least help to deliver some of the powerful messages found within the story.


The amazing artistry and special effects coupled with the strange, intriguing new world of Pandora helps summon the awe, wonder and respect we’ve lost for our own world. One of the most impressive things we notice about Pandora is how everything in its natural state provides for the Na’vis’ most basic practical needs as well as for their leisurely enjoyment. We are also reminded that this provision only continues in conjunction with the Na’vi treating Pandora with respect and care. However, this seems to come naturally to the Na’vi, for they have not lost their sense of awe and wonder towards their natural home. With that awe and wonder comes respect; and in this they find great contentment and joy relying on their planet and it’s abundant, timely provision. Why seek to replace or outdo such an amazing, faithful source of life?


As our respect and wonder for our planet wanes, rather than gratefully partaking of its natural system of provision we seek to replicate and/or replace it through our own technological advances.


As the big screen swoops us through Pandora’s spiraling forest, oversized leaves, and sideways tree trunks, we are in unspeakable awe of the planet’s beauty, majesty and design. In reality, that should be our reaction to our own planet in everyday real life. The natural planet we reside on ought to fascinate us and inspire in us a deep sense of reverence and loyalty.


For those of us who were overtaken with horror as the troops recklessly plowed through the Na'vi forest to uproot their source of survival and sustenance, we must ask ourselves: do we feel that same sense of horror when we see comparable injustices carried out in our own planet? Does it ache us at all to know that much of our daily life and experience is the result of such injustices-not just towards others, but towards ourselves? When we enjoy the privilege of being amidst unadulterated nature do we wonder why there isn’t more of it? Do we deeply mourn at the sad reality that there once was much more but we did away with it?


I’m not suggesting we pray to trees or find some means of spiritual connectivity with plants and animals. I’m suggesting that as a Christian I ought to see the Earth as something precious, something my God thoughtfully crafted with all of His infinite wisdom and creativity to sustain itself so long as we allow it. And I ought to wonder why we systematically take such crappy care of it all. And maybe as we explore these ideas it will change the way we see everything...or even better, we will change the way we do everything.

I actually plan to blog quite a bit more on the subjects of nature, modernization and Christianity. I'll throw a link here when I get it going. 

An Essay of Unbelief

This is an excerpt from an email exchange I’ve been having with a friend of mine who was curious about my spiritual journey over the last few years. Personal references have, of course, been omitted and I’ve reshaped some of the transitions in order to accommodate this forum. Just so you know, it's pretty long.

I would like to state that this is not a detailed explanation of my beliefs, but merely an overview of my journey and where it’s led me. This writing isn’t about proving that I’m right, but merely demonstrating how I got to where I am.

interesting essays

Greetings fellow writers and thinkers! I just wanted to let everyone know that Mike Banys is in the process of writing and posting an interesting three-part essay on Hinduism on his blog, Unknowing Mind. It's part of an interfaith blog event he participates in regularly with Jon Pennington of C3 in Chicago. You'll find the link on the right hand side of the screen, or you can go to http://unknowingmind.blogspot.com.

It's great stuff for those of us who are gloriously ignorant of common Hindu beliefs (i.e. me).

Enjoy!
Ryan

Something I wrote a long time ago. It may be the work I'm most proud of.

"slow, the change of time is slow, but nigh.
inside, the sense of my heart belittles my mind.
in time, to a heartbeat quake that quivers with mine."

Another Year

Hey guys, I know it's been a while, but here are some lyrics I just finished. It's about a family member who recently went through a really rough divorce. I'm not sure if I'm happy with the ending, so any feedback or suggestions would be welcome.

Coming home to lights left on and empty rooms.
All along you knew
This was at the end of it all
But it's still too soon
To be alone again
Will you sleep alone?

Masks let down
We see the actors on the stage
The show is done
The curtain falls
Lights cut down and then they fade
But you're still clinging to the part
Shadows on the stage
Playing to the crowd
You fall away
And leave me to myself
I could never be all you wanted

Let me go
And fade away
Let me go
And fade away

All we can be
Is memories in a frame
All we can see
The lies that we once claimed
And who we are
Will never be the same
Two became one
Now only one remains
Remains

With all muses silent
and all musing ceased
I release my soul.

Take me down where songs are found.

Getting Older

Songs don't have ends any more.
They meld and grow,
and wrap around the radio.
The eq is flat;
the announcer's spat
is don't change the dial.

The hair on my arm is still.
Lays straight and fine,
Void of the tell and the sign.
I miss the days,
the power and praise
of writer and his chord.

The Balcony

The first thought that occurred to him was that it wasn't he who set the building on fire. Regardless of responsibility, the building was on fire and he was stuck on the 9th floor. He had rented a hotel suite on the 9th floor with a cute balcony overlooking the city, and he was on that balcony now being irrational.
But he hadn't set the building on fire. So why was he facing the consequences? He began to imagine what the person who started the fire looked like. Was it a man or woman? It must be a man, he thought, because he had never heard of a female arsonist. There is that irrationality again. He was becoming aware of it. He turned his mind to the matter at hand. He had been forced on the balcony for some fresh air. He had tried to escape the building, but when he opened the door to his room, the hall was aflame and impassable. He had shut the door to the hall and wanted some fresh air.
Now, he wished he hadn't shut the door. He couldn't see what was happening. Was the fire still there? Had it been put out? From his perch above the city, he had heard sirens, but could not identify between police, ambulance or firetruck and did not even know whether the loud vehicle had stopped at the hotel. He didn't see any firetrucks from the balcony.
The fresh air outside was huge relief after a lung-full of the black acrid smoke. Did he smoke, he thought. Could that have been how the fire started? Someone smoking in bed? Were there any rooms in the hotel that could be smoked in? All of them now, and he grimaced at the thought. I didn't start the fire.
And he truly hadn't. So why was he in the midst of this calamity, stuck on a balcony 9 stories up enjoying the fresh air and imagining what the man smoking in bed looked like. Did he die? Was he burned up? Is he so unrecognizable that it didn't matter what he looked like before? Did he get what he deserved, and he was immediately ashamed at the thought. Smoking in bed is not a sin, it's not even a crime. It's just, well, unwise.
Alarmed by a sudden blast of heat, he looked into the room. The fire had burned through the sheet rock into his room. He reached for the glass door that opened to the balcony, and the metal burned as he shut it. He looked at his hands and didn't see any burns. Just hot. Just heat. But not so just. It wasn't just for the smoker to burn in bed, screaming in pain or deep in sleep. And it isn't just for him to burn now. And he started sobbing.
Was he going to die?
He had committed sins and crimes before. He had even gotten a speeding ticket during the journey to the city. But wasn't the ticket punishment paid in full? He had told lies before, and various other things he wasn't proud of. Was this punishment? Looking back inside his room, the fire had caught the blanket that was draped off his bed and half laid on the floor against the burning wall. Was he just unwise?
No, not making the bed was not unwise. The fire is not punishment. So what is the fire? Death, no the fire is not death. But there were not firetrucks and no ladders, and no helicopters and no one standing on the ground 9 stories below. The whole bed, no, the whole room was on fire now, the tongues licking at the glass.
Like a dog, he thought. A dog wanting to come outside. No, the fire is not an animal. What is the fire, but he knew all along. The fire is a catalyst. A catalyst to a choice. And so was the ticket for speeding and punishment in general, it all just forces you to make choices. The heat now on the balcony was unbearable. He had no choices here.

But, he did. There is always a choice. He could jump 9 stories down to no one.

Why would I jump, he thought. I will die when I hit the ground, and I will die getting burned up.
I should jump, he thought. But why! Because I don't know. Don't know what! The fire is a certain death. I will die burning. I should jump. But I'll die hitting the ground too! I don't know that.
Why should I jump? Because I might fly. And he climbed on top of the railing.

Babies are Good

I think sexual education in this country has backfired, and I think our culture is out of balance.

People like sex, and I don't think any amount of education is going to change that. Most of the sex ed classes talk about having one partner, and if not, practicing very safe sex habits. Here in the South, they will also throw in that it's a really good idea to pick one lady, marry her, and then get after it. However, in every sexual education, tv program or whatever I've heard, there was one subtle reason why you shouldn't have sex. Babies.

Babies will ruin your life. Your life is over after you have babies. You will not go to college. You won't get a good job. I even heard one show tell you that after you have babies you no longer have any friends.

As I look around, especially living in a college town, I am beginning to think that babies are bad is the only thing that people take away from sex ed in school. Rarely is the advice of abstinence heeded, and maybe someone listened carefully about safe sex practices, but it's not done in a relationship, it's to avoid getting all the women one is after pregnant. It is interesting to see the reactions my wife and I get as we move around the campus, or anywhere else there is a large group of "college kids." My wife and I can empty the apartment complex's pool in 10 minutes by showing up with our son to swim. It starts all of a sudden when we walk in, everyone hushes. Then, we get in the pool, and they'll start talking quietly. Then one by one, they'll give some excuse of somewhere they have to be or something they have to do, and exit as fast as possible. I guess baby disease is something that can be spread by the community water of a pool.

My life certainly didn't end with Eli's birth. I will be completing my degree in December, no worse the wear for having a child. Believe it or not, we still have friends! Friends around our age, too, even if they are like us and are young couples who have children. Corey and I still get to go on dates. I think the biggest thing is, that instead of Eli feeling like a burden when he's around, it feels like something is missing when he is not.

I hope to have all the children we are going to have by the time i'm thirty. People I guess wait until everything is perfect to have a baby, if they want a baby at all. Babies come when they come, and I think having one makes you ready. You rise to the challenge. Babies are good.

The Great Buffalo

The Great Buffalo

The prairie shakes, relaxed greens
and driftwood browns part as they pass
or falter under hoof. Herd traces
pond's path, fragrant flame from many
strides upwind pulls their noses aft-
No fear- no hunt in the west wind.

Invocations rise up, carry me,
kin to man, like a king
on his Royal Stallion.  Their
hearts pulse for me,
chants embrace me
  dum da-dum-dum  dum dum
The hunt is on.

But I remain silent.

We flee and we fight
fear pushing, pulling, but only in
body as Spirit is soothed through
devotional dance and earned respect
for our sinew and meat
our bladder and hide
our bones and our liver
our hair and our dung.

Seduced not but soothed, our spirit
still smiles though bison-bone spear
points pierce buffalo hide.

The prairie shakes, the bison die.

 dum da-dum-dum  dum dum
Their hearts embrace me
Chants pulse for me.

- Mike Banys, 2006

Thought for the Day
The Movie "The Hangover" is for people who like "Dude, Where's My Car", but are now adults.

Sometimes We Just Need to be Reminded

Here's a poem I wrote back in 2006. Feel free to critique it, just enjoy it, hate it, whatever seems to fit your mood today.


Sometimes We Just Need to be Reminded

Sometimes we just need to be reminded.
Sometimes we just need to stop the train,
get off, and look
at the sunflowers alongside the tracks.
Sometimes we just need to breathe. Deeply. In.
Out. Abdomen soft.
Sometimes we just need to feel the chair under
our backside.
Sometimes we just need to look at our partner,
really see him or her again.
Sometimes we just need to be reminded.

-- Mike Banys, 2006

Places We Can't Go

Okay, so it's not a regular post, but it's all I've got to offer right now. Here are the lyrics for a song I'm working on, feel free to absolutely demolish them.


The seasons change
And Spring finds its way
To San Francisco
The light laid down
Now clings to Bay and building
A most beautiful back drop
But it could never be enough for me

I whisper to the winds
“Darling, I am lost”
Lost in thoughts
Of what could have been
What might have been
What never was
If it ever was
Memories of words we claimed

“Let’s step out
Let’s take a chance.”
But there’s no chance
Just patterns that remain
Patterns we can’t change
We can’t change

So we find our own roads
Turn our backs on places we can’t go
Follow what we’ve come to know;
There’s nothing more
To hold us back
No more thoughts to what we lack
I’ll never be the one to say
Love goes easily
I’ll never be the one

Seasons change
Summer’s just around the bend
And I’m running
On my own again
And I am running
to Chicago

The Chronicles of Ryan's Roommate Part I

Ryan looked in the fridge. His heart sank with the temperature as it hit his face. It had happened again. This would require some brooding. He flopped down on the couch and tried to put things in perspective. He tried to see the truth of the matter. He tried not to be angry.

But He Was Betrayed.

Betrayed by the closest person to him. Their bedrooms were a scarce 10 feet apart. How could he do this! Why couldn't he be considerate! It was a matter important to life or death.

But he forgave his friend. Their friendship could transcend this. He also knew what his friend was dealing with at the time. He knew of the crazy spells, and the rough influence of the female.

After all, it was only another frozen burrito.

Did you enjoy my last post? I thought it was clever!
And despite the fact that Ryan tells me that it is blog-terrorism to threaten so, I will begin to fill this blog with similar dribble until some more discussion is kindled!

David

Death of a Violist

"A string quartet is made up of four people; a good violinist, a bad violinist, an ex-violinist, and someone who hates violinists."

And thus, a viola player dies. He spent his life in an unknown clef, playing unheard parts on an unrecognized instrument. From the outside world, he received complete anonymity. From the music world, he received ridicule.

And yet, somehow, he made it to heaven! All those years of practice, frustration, perseverance had paid off. As he went to join the orchestra in the sky, God looked at him and said "Viola, huh? That's like a large violin, right?"