Dear Sweet God!
Miss Emma Brodie = Joleet Marquette Poole!
And with that kids, I learn a little something about people.
More soon.
Chaos, control, chaos, control, you like, you like?
Okay, back, and to do this quickly, we're going to do it Rules of Attraction Victor style! Get on the bus!
So there was this boy named Joey Poole that I knew because he used to go to our sister churche in Omaha and he was younger than me and so very sweet and adorable so I took a liking to him instantly. He was very charismatic and I loved that he had this strong spiritual fire in him that he would let come out at anytime, like anytime and on anyone. In any church service you could count on him to start shouting as soon as you heard the magic words, "When I think about Jesus and what he's done for me, when I think about Jesus and how he set me free I can DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE all night!" and the organ player would get their foot going over the peddles all "da na dana da na dana" and someone would start with the tambourine and the drummer would cut loose and the bass player would hit that one note in that one chord and there would be Joey Poole flying down the aisle. It was exhilarating watching him jump and turn eyes wide shut head bobbing hands cocked behind his back sounds of praise dripping from his lips in a language that only him and God could understand.
So I endeavored to learn more about this boy, this spiritual enigma, and one day he came to Lincoln and I said, "Hey, I'm Stacey", and he was all, "I know who you are girl, and you know me!" And instantly I did, just like that we knew each other.
Who here watched American Idol last season? You guys remember Anwar? So there's this thing about black men at church, especially southern black church men and it can also be said about Heartland black church men. There's a thin line between gay and straight is what I'm trying to say. My recapper friend insisted that Anwar was gay and he very well may have been, but there was a certain plausible deniability he had in that he was a church boy. There are several boys I know that I always say, "If he weren't saved, he would be gay. Even if the two were not mutually exclusive (which was my mind set then, still is now in some ways, definitely not in others, depends on the day, on the experience, on the mood) he would be not be both because that would never occur to him. Either he loves men sexually, or he loves them spiritually, the two do not mix well, like oil and water." And let me disclaimer that with saying that I'm specifically talking about members of those churches that teach the two are most definitely not connected.
Anwar was one of those boys.
Joey Poole was the poster child for one of those boys.
So I started to observe Joey Poole to see if my assumptions about him were true and for the most part they were, but then something happened (and I'm not withholding, I really don't know what went down) and I didn't see him for two years.
Those two years made the difference and here's where Miss Emma Brodie comes in.
I'm re-re-reading this book (it's awesome, but it's still in progress so no rec's yet, but soon) and there is this character whose sole purpose is to wreak havoc. No past, no present, a very iffy future, clandestine motivations, and a slightly schizophrenic demeanor make this woman a force to be reckoned with. She doles out craziness like ice cream on a freezing day where you really want it, but you shouldn't. She does all of this, but there is an interaction between her and these two characters where she defines their future for them and they accept it.
They should have killed her, but they didn't because they realized what I have absolutely no desire to accept. You can't be mad at crazy, because it cannot help itself. It just is.
Joey Poole came back into my life and like a whirlwind ruined it. Credit, finances, heartbreak, soul questioning, everything that was solid for me became uprooted and everything that was shaky at best went tumbling into the ground becoming this mosaic of chaos in which the only discernible thing was how broken my spirit was. And I hated him. He's the first person I ever truly hated, but what I didn't get is that I wasn't the first person he screwed over and I certainly won't be the last, and that fact alone makes me wish death upon him. Because he's obviously not ready for this world, and this world is not prepared to deal with him. But he won't die, like a frickin' cockroach he comes back at the craziest of times.
Distance lends enchantment which is why I can honestly say that I've forgiven him and will move on. But if I see him again, I wonder how drastically that will change? Because although I know he was nuts, and that his sole purpose for living was to eff up, and royally, I couldn't put together that when he said he needed help, what he was really saying was, "I want to ruin you".
And there's writing between those lines that says, "I want to ruin you because I want to ruin me because I am not worthy of you because I hate me because you hate me because me me me you you you." which would explain everything, but to look at that writing means looking at the world and to look at the world means looking at myself in this world and to look at myself in this world means having to forgive and forget Joey Poole.
And I'm not sure I want to do that just yet.
ps. and please no, "what's the point of staying mad?" comments because my answer will be, "because it is funny." and then I will have to explain myself and I don't want to do that. Not today anyhow.
And with that kids, I learn a little something about people.
More soon.
Chaos, control, chaos, control, you like, you like?
Okay, back, and to do this quickly, we're going to do it Rules of Attraction Victor style! Get on the bus!
So there was this boy named Joey Poole that I knew because he used to go to our sister churche in Omaha and he was younger than me and so very sweet and adorable so I took a liking to him instantly. He was very charismatic and I loved that he had this strong spiritual fire in him that he would let come out at anytime, like anytime and on anyone. In any church service you could count on him to start shouting as soon as you heard the magic words, "When I think about Jesus and what he's done for me, when I think about Jesus and how he set me free I can DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE all night!" and the organ player would get their foot going over the peddles all "da na dana da na dana" and someone would start with the tambourine and the drummer would cut loose and the bass player would hit that one note in that one chord and there would be Joey Poole flying down the aisle. It was exhilarating watching him jump and turn eyes wide shut head bobbing hands cocked behind his back sounds of praise dripping from his lips in a language that only him and God could understand.
So I endeavored to learn more about this boy, this spiritual enigma, and one day he came to Lincoln and I said, "Hey, I'm Stacey", and he was all, "I know who you are girl, and you know me!" And instantly I did, just like that we knew each other.
Who here watched American Idol last season? You guys remember Anwar? So there's this thing about black men at church, especially southern black church men and it can also be said about Heartland black church men. There's a thin line between gay and straight is what I'm trying to say. My recapper friend insisted that Anwar was gay and he very well may have been, but there was a certain plausible deniability he had in that he was a church boy. There are several boys I know that I always say, "If he weren't saved, he would be gay. Even if the two were not mutually exclusive (which was my mind set then, still is now in some ways, definitely not in others, depends on the day, on the experience, on the mood) he would be not be both because that would never occur to him. Either he loves men sexually, or he loves them spiritually, the two do not mix well, like oil and water." And let me disclaimer that with saying that I'm specifically talking about members of those churches that teach the two are most definitely not connected.
Anwar was one of those boys.
Joey Poole was the poster child for one of those boys.
So I started to observe Joey Poole to see if my assumptions about him were true and for the most part they were, but then something happened (and I'm not withholding, I really don't know what went down) and I didn't see him for two years.
Those two years made the difference and here's where Miss Emma Brodie comes in.
I'm re-re-reading this book (it's awesome, but it's still in progress so no rec's yet, but soon) and there is this character whose sole purpose is to wreak havoc. No past, no present, a very iffy future, clandestine motivations, and a slightly schizophrenic demeanor make this woman a force to be reckoned with. She doles out craziness like ice cream on a freezing day where you really want it, but you shouldn't. She does all of this, but there is an interaction between her and these two characters where she defines their future for them and they accept it.
They should have killed her, but they didn't because they realized what I have absolutely no desire to accept. You can't be mad at crazy, because it cannot help itself. It just is.
Joey Poole came back into my life and like a whirlwind ruined it. Credit, finances, heartbreak, soul questioning, everything that was solid for me became uprooted and everything that was shaky at best went tumbling into the ground becoming this mosaic of chaos in which the only discernible thing was how broken my spirit was. And I hated him. He's the first person I ever truly hated, but what I didn't get is that I wasn't the first person he screwed over and I certainly won't be the last, and that fact alone makes me wish death upon him. Because he's obviously not ready for this world, and this world is not prepared to deal with him. But he won't die, like a frickin' cockroach he comes back at the craziest of times.
Distance lends enchantment which is why I can honestly say that I've forgiven him and will move on. But if I see him again, I wonder how drastically that will change? Because although I know he was nuts, and that his sole purpose for living was to eff up, and royally, I couldn't put together that when he said he needed help, what he was really saying was, "I want to ruin you".
And there's writing between those lines that says, "I want to ruin you because I want to ruin me because I am not worthy of you because I hate me because you hate me because me me me you you you." which would explain everything, but to look at that writing means looking at the world and to look at the world means looking at myself in this world and to look at myself in this world means having to forgive and forget Joey Poole.
And I'm not sure I want to do that just yet.
ps. and please no, "what's the point of staying mad?" comments because my answer will be, "because it is funny." and then I will have to explain myself and I don't want to do that. Not today anyhow.