I took a little time this evening to check on what the Alabama legislature is up to. After last year's Beason Hammon Alabama Taxpayer and Citizen Protection Act, which passed with little public outcry that came far too late, it just seems like a prudent thing to do.
HB 658 is the proposed "re-write" of last years immigration law. There have been a few changes, most having to do with contractors and business transactions. In response to the concerns of those people interested in assisting, in ministry or morality, illegal immigrants, there are no real changes.
Except, in last year's bill you had to assist ten illegal aliens before being charged with a felony.
In a show of compassion and compromise, HB 658 allows the good Samaritan to achieve felony status by assisting only five. And I was afraid that the legislature wouldn't listen to the voices of concern.
Cuts to medicaid are threatening the health of our poor and elderly. Schools are suffering from lack of funds. Roads are in disrepair. Long lines for driver's exams and vehicle tags are common. Saving money by delaying unemployment compensation for a week. I imagine Governor Bentley wonders why he moved from the Promised Land to a place with so little promise.
We are out of money. And we refuse to raise taxes. The seemingly endless (actually only a thousand or two) list of bills and commendations of good people and sports teams don't hold any promise for addressing the immediate woes of our state. (except for one tax bill which has no chance of passing, and even if it did, it would fail in a state wide vote as we the people choose fiscal euthanasia).
As I was scrolling through the bills before the legislature, looking for something interesting, I found another one that has no chance of passing, but if it did, would immediately save the State millions of dollars each year. It would cost nothing to implement except for the ink from the Governor's pen.
Abolish the death penalty.
I hate it when spiritual and moral issues come down to such base considerations, but, if it works, I'll take it.
SB 392. It will save us millions of dollars.
And perhaps a little of our souls.
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Monday, April 16, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Stress interrupted
Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.
I've been all het up lately. Politics. Religion. Economics. Justice. Messed up toenail. Poison oak everywhere. Truck won't start. I get this way sometimes. I turn into an auger, boring myself into the ground. The harder and faster I spin the more solidly I get stuck in the muck.
An intervention is appropriate.
And that intervening grace (I'm sure this is already a theological term, but I didn't look it up) comes in a variety of ways, thank goodness.
Saturday. Sofa. Coffee. is the intervening grace appointment on my calendar. Lately I have not protected this moment, and have replaced it with things that had to be done. I need to quit doing that.
Intervening grace can be gentle, almost imperceptible. A soothing, warm breeze. An old melody that brings forgotten memories. Gentle chuckles that grow into belly laughs. It can be forceful, practically irresistible. A firm grip on the arm when one is about to step in front of an oncoming bus. A friend stealing the keys from hands under the influence. Loss of electricity. It comes in the form that is needed.
I had a meeting yesterday afternoon. Normally that would not be grace. A meeting on Friday afternoon at four o'clock? That seems more like a hellish notion. But the meeting was at Camp Sumatanga. The sun was sinking low, the breeze was cool, and Greasy Cove was brilliant with the water color palette of spring. The talk around the supper table journeyed through the past at Camp. Everyone had their own. It was grace when it happened way back when. It was grace in the remembrance. I felt different when I left Sumatanga. But that's not unusual. It is the most grace-full place I know. You can enjoy some of that grace, or remember past grace-full Sumatanga times next Friday and Saturday during the Sounds of Sumatanga. I love Sumatanga. I love music. So it's a no-brainer for me. Here is a moment of intervening grace for me from Sounds of Sumatanga 2008. I may wear the same shirt next week-end if I can find it. I am afraid some of my family may have hidden it as a means of intervening grace. Seriously. Come to Sumatanga next Saturday.
This morning I was looking at facebook. There was a post from Kristine Praulina, which included a link to some songs she has recorded recently. I met Kristine at Wesley Camp, the Methodist camp a short drive (if you know how to get there) from Liepaja, Latvia. At the end of a couple of days of workshopping, our group was whipped, mostly because we Americans forgot that the sun did not set until after midnight and bounced right back up shortly thereafter. Everything was quiet. The sun was bright outside and a cool breeze blew through the Alabama room, which is a finished out gigantic hay loft, the assembly hall of Wesley Camp. As the rest of us simultaneously began a siesta, a single voice gently began to cover us like a warm blanket. It was Kristine.
It was grace, intervening. Then, and now.
Hallelujah.
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I've been all het up lately. Politics. Religion. Economics. Justice. Messed up toenail. Poison oak everywhere. Truck won't start. I get this way sometimes. I turn into an auger, boring myself into the ground. The harder and faster I spin the more solidly I get stuck in the muck.
An intervention is appropriate.
And that intervening grace (I'm sure this is already a theological term, but I didn't look it up) comes in a variety of ways, thank goodness.
Saturday. Sofa. Coffee. is the intervening grace appointment on my calendar. Lately I have not protected this moment, and have replaced it with things that had to be done. I need to quit doing that.
Intervening grace can be gentle, almost imperceptible. A soothing, warm breeze. An old melody that brings forgotten memories. Gentle chuckles that grow into belly laughs. It can be forceful, practically irresistible. A firm grip on the arm when one is about to step in front of an oncoming bus. A friend stealing the keys from hands under the influence. Loss of electricity. It comes in the form that is needed.
I had a meeting yesterday afternoon. Normally that would not be grace. A meeting on Friday afternoon at four o'clock? That seems more like a hellish notion. But the meeting was at Camp Sumatanga. The sun was sinking low, the breeze was cool, and Greasy Cove was brilliant with the water color palette of spring. The talk around the supper table journeyed through the past at Camp. Everyone had their own. It was grace when it happened way back when. It was grace in the remembrance. I felt different when I left Sumatanga. But that's not unusual. It is the most grace-full place I know. You can enjoy some of that grace, or remember past grace-full Sumatanga times next Friday and Saturday during the Sounds of Sumatanga. I love Sumatanga. I love music. So it's a no-brainer for me. Here is a moment of intervening grace for me from Sounds of Sumatanga 2008. I may wear the same shirt next week-end if I can find it. I am afraid some of my family may have hidden it as a means of intervening grace. Seriously. Come to Sumatanga next Saturday.
This morning I was looking at facebook. There was a post from Kristine Praulina, which included a link to some songs she has recorded recently. I met Kristine at Wesley Camp, the Methodist camp a short drive (if you know how to get there) from Liepaja, Latvia. At the end of a couple of days of workshopping, our group was whipped, mostly because we Americans forgot that the sun did not set until after midnight and bounced right back up shortly thereafter. Everything was quiet. The sun was bright outside and a cool breeze blew through the Alabama room, which is a finished out gigantic hay loft, the assembly hall of Wesley Camp. As the rest of us simultaneously began a siesta, a single voice gently began to cover us like a warm blanket. It was Kristine.
It was grace, intervening. Then, and now.
Hallelujah.
.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Thurvey 4/12/2012
Thursday survey. Thurvey. Time for you to express your opinion on the Thurvey questions of the week. The world yearns for your opinions on the crushing issues of the day . . . but why don't you answer these questions first as a warm-up. To respond to the Thurvey, simply type your comment in the comment box below, click on the drop down menu below the box and click on "anonymous", and then click on "publish." Include your name with your response if you do not wish to be anonymous. If no box appears below then click on the tiny "comments" word below this post and the box should appear.
#1 Vacation time is closing in upon us. For many, a book or two, a movie or TV series, and a soundtrack of favorite tunes are necessary equipment for a successful rest. Share your "must pack" list of such diversions with those of us who may not have been paying attention lately.
#2 The State of Alabama government is under ten percent budget proration. Obviously, the State needs to cut some programs, or raise more money. It is also obvious that the legislature will not raise taxes, so what other options for revenue would be successful in Alabama? This is not a serious question, unless you have a really good serious idea. Otherwise, I would be looking more for ideas like fruitcake sales. I chose fruitcake sales because I didn't want to take any of the ideas some of you might want to use that are more closely tied to Alabama culture. Be creative. Alabama needs you. All ideas will be immediately reviewed by Robert Bentley.
#3 Who did you want Mitt Romney to select for his Vice-President running mate? Why? And if VP Biden decided to sit this election out, who would you like to see President Obama choose to replace him on the ticket?
#4 What question do you want answered this week? (Your opportunity to free-lance)
Monday, April 9, 2012
Pilate Gas
Pilate washed his hands of the whole thing. He tried for a while to do the right thing. He listened to the facts. He sought a second opinion. But he quickly found out he was dealing with a bunch of crazies. Reasoning with them did no good. The truth did not matter. It was just an obstacle to be avoided. He threw up his clean hands in surrender:
"What is truth?"
If Pilate held American political office today I suspect he would quickly make an announcement that he was returning home to spend more time with his family.
Truth is weakness, a liability. The crazies have taken over.
I hesitate to bring up specifics because I have come to believe it does no good. In fact, it seems to be harmful. Those who want to believe lies will believe lies. They circle the wagons against the arrows of truth and hide in the imagined safety of ignorance. But, just to continue the discussion:
"President Obama is at fault for high gasoline prices". All Republican candidates and talking heads are pumping from the same tank on this one and expect to get a lot of mileage out of it. There are two options here. Either they are too stupid to hold positions of authority, or they are willfully lying for personal gain.
The truth is that fluctuation in gasoline prices depends almost entirely on the price of crude oil. The price of crude oil depends in part on simple supply and demand. In America, supply is up, and demand is down. So the traditional rules of economics would say that the price of oil should be down. But, the most significant pressure on oil prices now is the upward pressure on prices created by the international futures markets. If more investors believe the price of oil will go up, they will pump more money into futures, and the price will continue to go up, creating a price bubble, regardless of a plentiful supply. This is happening now. It is not President Obama's fault. It is a by-product of a free market.
Another upward pressure on gasoline prices is the decline of the value of the dollar versus other currencies. Between 2002 and 2008, during the Bush administration's reign, the dollar lost 40 percent of its value against the Euro. It has held relatively steady since then. This might be a President's fault, but not President Obama's.
Another upward pressure on oil prices and oil futures is uncertainty regarding the security of oil producing countries, like Iran. Saber rattling by Republican neo-cons and ill-informed candidates (including, unfortunately, the apparent nominee), as well as by Israel, are the primary sources of international uncertainty about security for Iran's oil production, as well as other middle-eastern oil sources that may suffer collateral damage in a conflict.. President Obama has been a voice of reason rather than a source of blame.
And the price of gasoline is affected by refinery capacity. There is plenty of oil. But oil companies are closing American refineries, and not replacing them. Less capacity for refining oil into gasoline diminishes the supply of gasoline and drives the price up. One might think that the big oil companies would have used a lot of their billions and billions of dollars of record profits to invest in new, more efficient refineries, especially being the job-creators that they surely must be. But that would cut into profits, and might bring the price of gasoline down, further cutting into their profits. So it isn't happening. That is not President Obama's fault. It is a product of the free market.
The problem with the truth is that it isn't as easy as a lie. My amateur attempt at summarizing the reasons for high gasoline prices may have been a bit lengthy and boring, but let me assure you, a real expert would have gone on for pages, maybe even volumes.
It is much easier and more satisfying to close your eyes and click your heels and say "It is President Obama's fault."
Wonder where I can get a Barabbas bumper sticker?
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