Crazy Sam’s: Where the Sacred Is Profane ! !
...and Wishes/Horses
“We’re not gonna teach a book about the Bible; we’re gonna teach the Bible!”

That’s from a principal in West Texas whose school is planning a Bible education class that’s sparked some criticism. As it’s planned, the course uses just one text – the Bible itself - and critics say it doesn’t actually teach the history, art or literature contemporaneous with or related to, the Bible (the whole reason the course was ostensibly proposed in the first place.) It just teaches the Bible. You know, like the guy says in the exclamation above, which I wish found more surprising or shocking.

And of course Mr. Principal, he wasn’t Jewish or even like, Episcopalian. Okay, so my fact-checking is shoddy; he mighta been Episcopalian; all he said tonight on All Things Considered was that he is Christian. He is Christian and yes, he’d like to convert all the students in the school if he could, but he wouldn’t because it’s frowned upon.

The thing is, I don’t know too many Episcopalians out there who are that fervent in that gorgeous doublespeak we’re so familiar with here in la Cinturon de la Biblia: The “I want to convert the whole world!” followed by the “But this is separation of church and state.”

Only in this country, I tell you; only here is a thing called faith so commonly shilled about like a freaking carnival gimmick sold to you by some mustache-twirling carny who gives you his sales-spiel while, all along - all along- declaring out of the side of his mouth to the twenty other people who’ve gathered, that he’s not selling a thing, no sir, no.

And let’s look at that word: faith. You’d think that’d imply that no one can sell it to you, that it’s something that just comes to you in some beautiful, noncorporeal way. A light from the sky. Something discussed in quiet voices echoing along the tall, stone halls of buildings with solid foundations, foundations built by ancient, silent men. Men with calm hearts. All those clichés. That it’s something you either have or don’t, that it’s something solemn and solid or not, but either way it’s not a cheap word. Not insubstantial like that plastic ring you chose from a box of prizes when you were six because the man didn’t guess your weight correctly. It’s a beautiful word, becoming uglier by the day.

And this
A smart journalist told me recently that if you find yourself reporting on something you hold strong personal opinions about, it’s a good idea to keep a notebook separate from your reporter’s notebook. In this second notebook, you scrawl all your deep, dark opinions. So I guess this is it. My notebook in which I’m totally, nakedly honest. That was part of the original idea, anyway. Except that I’m intentionally (though not very) vague about my workplace and I never, ever mention real stories I’m working on or anything that happens in the offices of Small Publication, even though those are some of my best anecdotes, the ones I’m just itching to put down and make this spot a thousand times better and more frequently updated than it is.

But no. I mean, think of what could happen! My god, why, I could become the subject of those stories you hear, like that women who gets fired from her job because someone discovered it was she who was writing those scathing accounts mocking her coworkers on her wildly popular, deliciously wicked website that just keeps crashing now, the public demand is so high and since she’s been fired she’s found her real calling, anyway: she’s off with that book deal, now.
Oh yeah. Right now she’s out with every single one of her friends at Kennywood, using that lifetime parkpass the place sent her once fame hit and she said it was her favorite place in the world on the “Today” Show. Free funnelcake for all, now that everyone knows her real name and she’ll never have to worry about a paycheck ever again.