My cover of From the North by Runrig

Well, I've been feeling like I'm cheating when I just use a bit of software to make my music. So this is me trying to be a little more real. I don't do well with cameras. Or singing while playing for that matter. Please tell me what you think. And blame Mike Vaughan for psychologically pushing me to do this. And speaking of Mike, go check out his music. Here's his website and here's his Soundcloud. He's a brilliant singer and musician and is into pirates and stuff.

Cheers!

Modesty and Lust

I casually follow Project Inspired, and today, I found this article on the issue of yoga pants and whether or not Christian women should wear them. It kind of struck me because just yesterday, I went out and bought myself some yoga pants. In fact, I'm wearing them as I type this. They are sooo comfortable and soft and warm and comfortable... and I felt a little defensive about the article. Like, seriously? I just got these gorgeous things! So, naturally, I want to talk about them and the issue of modesty and lust.

Praise the Lord and pass the yoga pants.

Just kidding, I don't want to talk about yoga pants. It's just a new fad that has replaced other articles of clothing that make our [insert body part] look good, and it will soon be replaced by other articles of clothing that do the same thing. And this has been the same argument for every one of those controversial pieces. The reason that they are controversial in the Christian community: men are evil and full of lust and all they really want to do is rape you because yoga pants (or miniskirts, crop-tops, swimsuits, etc.) make you look too sexy to pass up. And you, the female, are just a fragile blossom who must keep these men from indulging their basest desires or even fantasizing about it. They can't help themselves; you must do it for them.

Whenever a woman is sexually assaulted, the question inevitably comes up: "What was she wearing?" I have to ask, "What does a woman need to be wearing (or not wearing) for her to sexually assaulted?" From my experience working in a grocery store, I have deduced that the outfit I'm most likely to be assaulted in is a loose-fitting polo shirt and a pair of dirty black pants. When I worked in the deli, I was hit on constantly by a male coworker and a few of the male customers. Come to think of it, why did the customers hit on me? They couldn't see anything but my face. My good bits were hidden behind a display of meats and cheeses. Must be my face. Better cover that up so men don't lust after me.

Nailed it.

On the days that I didn't wear the uniform (Yay, for Employee Appreciation Week!), I would dress up in my favorite shirts, which I admit were form-fitting, but I didn't get hit on or stared at. Apparently, I looked like a manager. I only got hit on if I was wearing the employee uniform. Because nothing says hot stuff like a blue t-shirt (they had to change the employee shirt so we'd stick out) that asks, "How may I help you today?"
In conclusion, I'm thinking that it's not the clothes we wear that make guys think impure thoughts. Because us girls look really good when we go to church and think nothing of it. The dress that covers the knees, shoulders, and all the "goodies" and isn't skin tight is still going to look very good on you, and men are going to look at you. That doesn't mean that it doesn't matter what you wear. Men think lustful thoughts. Period. Some more than others, but all men, at one point in their life, have thought impure thoughts. (Just like women do.) When Jesus told the multitudes that they were committing adultery in their hearts when they lusted after women, he wasn't admonishing the women for wearing things clinging to their butts. He was admonishing men for having wayward eyes. We all need to work on that. It keeps both genders from feeling uncomfortable.
And what about us women? How we struggle with those good-looking men wearing those tailored suits and ties! How does this not fill your mind with lustful thoughts?

I had lots of fun looking for the perfect tailored suit on a guy.

See what I mean?

Now, using the same logic applied to us women, I'm going to tell men to not wear nice clothes because we women can't control ourselves.

I'm having a hard time controlling myself right now.

Let's face it: men are going to continue looking very very good, and women are going to continue looking very very good. Nothing is going to change that. People need to start taking responsibility for their own thoughts and actions and not blame the victims. If you want men to not have lustful thoughts about women, either teach them to not have lustful thoughts or forbid them from seeing women. And good luck with that.

Arguing With Myself

I wanted to do a post on the issue of homosexuality. But I really don't want to hurt or anger anybody. But I also want to initiate important discussion about homosexuality. But I don't want to start a fight. So I shall leave it up to whoever actually reads my blog. Or I could post it to draw more traffic to my blog. I can just read the headlines: "Fatface Beats A Dead Horse and the Crowd Goes In For the Kill." No, seriously. Should I post it? (please answer, I'm so lonely over here...)

War: A free-verse poem

I wrote a free-verse poem the other day for an assignment. The assignment was that I write a free-verse poem for one of four subjects: religion, sex, birth, or war. Well, I don't know enough about sex or birth to write a meaningful poem about it, and I know to much about religion to write about that (don't want to pick a fight), so I chose war. Don't know enough about it either, but I do know loss and can imagine it from a part-romantic, part-realist point of view. So here it is, simply titled, "War."

I stand here alone

And look out on the water

Red with the blood of my brothers,

Stained with the blood of my enemies.

The seagulls irreverently cry

As they scavenge for freshly hewn meat.

But all is silent midst their screams,

A dirge for every man.

The television will hum

With news that we won the war.

“The war is over!” they will say.

But no one really believes it.

To the children lying at my feet,

Mere collateral damage from battle,

The war is finally over; they will hurt no more.

To their mothers, the war drags on.

I killed a man last week, a good man.

I would have bought him a drink any other day.

But orders from the top bade I spill his blood.

“He is dangerous,” they said.

I don’t think either side won.

The seagulls won; they will feast for a week.

The ground won; it gladly receives the harvest.

The flies won; there will be plenty of them.

I sit here alone on the crimson sand.

I haven’t slept in days.

I take this leaden pill and sleep

At last with my brothers.