Blue Moon

An astronomical coincidence which occurs so infrequently we celebrate its uniqueness.

Scientifically it is the second full moon in a calendar month.  

The color blue is idealistic, enhancing self-expression and our ability to communicate our needs and wants. It inspires higher ideals* .......   *empower yourself 

"Rendering of the Moon" - graphic by Jay Johnson

The Sacrifice of Cecil

Gary Larson, creator of the cartoon series "The Far Side" is one of my favorite thinkers.  He personifies animals in a lot of his cartoons, giving them human perception but with animal limitations.  

Example:  A deer looking at a telephone ringing at his desk. The caption: "There it goes again and me without an opposable thumb to pick it up."  Another cartoon shows an elk with the mark of a target on his neck.  A second elk is looking at the pattern and says, "Bummer of a birth mark, Hal"

I was thinking of Gary Larson as the news of Cecil the Lion's death went viral. One of Larson's other  cartoons immediately came to mind.  It is a "two panel". In the first we see a timid bear calmly drinking water from a lake.  Behind him, hidden in the brush is a man with a huge gun ready to shoot the bear.  In the last panel the "hunter" is standing in his trophy room.  The same bear has been stuffed and mounted in a standing position, teeth snarling, claws ready in a menacing attack pose. I wonder how the asshole dentist from Minnesota will pose Cecil? Certainly not as he looked during the 40 hours they tracked him while he was bleeding to death.   

The very sad part of the Cecil story is that Walter Palmer, the dentist, hunter and killer has spent hundreds of thousands of dollars killing leopards, bears, rhino's and other exotic animals. In fact Cecil was not even the first lion he has killed. Even though he is a felon convicted of "poaching" wildlife, he has been able to continue this "sport" unfettered until now. But here is the fact that is chilling. Palmer is not really the worst of the problem only the most visual right now.  

Palmer is part of a very small minority who can spend big money to hunt big trophies.  Most don't have $55,000 to throw away, and some who do have that kind of money also have a soul, so "killing" would not be a way they would spend that kind of money.  The real problem?  The unseen masses of poachers who are killing these beautiful animals FOR money.  When the tusk of an Elephant, the paw of a tiger, and the horn of a Rhino can be sold for big bucks on the black market, mercenaries get involved. Our wild life is not endangered because of rich jerks like Palmer who have penis issues, our big animals are endangered because of the value of their parts on the black market.  As long as people place value on the parts of certain species of animals, then there will be people willing to break any law to satisfy that want. In these modern times, other than food value, what need does their killing fill that can not be accomplished with some artificial item? 

The value is based in superstition and misplaced ego.  The ego of a trophy hunter who can showcase the head of an exotic animal on his wall really says, "Look at the money I have to be able to afford such an item."  And the superstition of predominately Asians who believe the horn of a rhino is an aphrodisiac. While there has never been any scientific truth to the fact, the horn of a Rhino can bring up to $300,000.  There is evidently no price a human won't pay to get laid.  

I think Walter Palmer should be punished for his ignorant extravagance. Especially since he seems to be a repeat offender with a felony record for this "sport".  If he thought he was giving these animals a fair chance by hunting with a bow and arrow, he is blind to the fact that these animals are lured from their safety and herded into a killing zone so he could feel like he has a pair. Perhaps making an example out of Dr. Macho will have a sobering effect on others of his extravagant nature.  The excuse he gives? He thought the "kill" was legal because his guides told him it was okay.  The guides who were being paid big money to make it happen.  "Thought it was a legal "kill" sounds like the defense George Zimmerman used to justify murder.  

American Indians used to hunt Bison on the plains with bow and arrow. But it was not done for sport, it was done for survival and every part of the Bison was used by the tribe.  It was almost a spiritual experience. They gave thanks to the Bison they killed, honoring them for giving their lives for the good of the tribe. They would never think of killing for the sake of hanging their heads in a tee pee. They honored the Bison for the sacrifice not the hunter for his killing ability.  

Of course when Anglos settled the plains we made the killing of Bison a sport, shooting them from trains by the thousands, and leaving them to rot in the sun.  The Indians could not understand how us white men could kill something for entertainment and not for survival.  It seems we have lost something special in our educated arrogance. Perhaps that loss of connection to the world around us is exactly what is creating the extinction of so many species, and is leading us to the destruction of our own existence as well.

One of Larson's cartoons shows a farmers wife coming back from the barn with a basket full of eggs, while a hen is coming back from the farm house with the farmers baby in its basket.  We can be grateful that animals do not think like humans.

As you were,

Jay  

Did I just roll my eyes out Loud?

The role of the Monday morning quarterback has become the model for politics today.  We have a group of publicity seeking short term thinkers who simply dump on any idea that doesn't serve their own selfish addenda.  They are quick to belittle any attempt to govern while they offer no alternative.  In most cases they have no alternative; they only criticize any attempt to do something.  A leader leads. A leader offers a path, a way to go.  

A leader is not someone who complains about the path being taken without offering an alternative route.  Unless you are able to fly the plane you should not gripe about the flight plan. 

This last week marks the 50th time that the Republican party has tried to gut Obamacare.  While no plan is perfect, including this one, the good it accomplishes must out weigh its imperfections.  While lots of time and effort has gone into the 50 attempts to destroy the program, no effort has been made to propose an alternate program. That is not leadership that is destructive narcissism. Doing nothing is better than actively attempting to do harm. 

The same with the Iranian Nuclear Agreement.  While it may not be perfect, while we may not trust the Iranians, it is at least a step forward.  The alternative offered from the detractors is, well, nothing.  Their solution is just draw a line in the sand and prepare for war.  That has worked so well for us in that region during the last dozen years.

Mike Huckabee offers no solution to the Iranian solution, he simply denounces the hard work done by several countries using metaphors that are offensive, insensitive and salacious. His "marching to the ovens" comment is the latest.  Even his justification for using such a statement makes no sense.  He said, "I have been to Auschwitz three times and I have stood in front of those ovens, so I know how it feels."   Really? Mike, I have been to the Viet Nam war memorial four times and I do not know how it feels to be a dead Viet Nam vet. For that statement alone you have disqualified yourself as a serious contender for President of the United States.  Not that he has a serious chance at the nomination. 

Huckabee is not alone in his ignorance, nor lack of any realistic chance. Most everyone in the crowded clown car of the GOP is clueless.  Donald Trump has no ideas, he just throws tomatoes at others who are trying to help.  His popularity is based on the misguided idea that leadership is the equivalent of belittling the leaders. Show me some candidates who have a plan to move forward not a plan to dismantle the progress already made. Politics used to be the art of compromise, the art of working with people who had ideas completely different from your own.  Now it is just a group of spoiled children who want their way or they will not play. They are not concerned with the status of the country, only their own popularity. It is a  group of bullies who want the power to get their way. 

A leader is not a bully.  A leader is not a celebrity.  A leader is not a dictator. A leader is not a spoiled child. A leader is not a critic who can only denounce a plan without offering any of his own.  I am tired of voting for the lessor of evils. I am tired of voting for the person who is least offensive. I want to vote for a person who has ideas that are good for the country and not those that service the entitled few. I want to vote for someone, not against the someone. 

It is still 15 months away from the actual vote.  But so far all I see is the same old guard, with the same old ideas of deconstruction rather than a new plan. My kids have no optimism for the future. Why should they?  With all the optimism we had when we were their age,  look what we got stuck with. One percent of the country milking the other 99% dry.  America can become great again... but it can only do that if it changes to the positive and turns from the negative.  So far I don't see anyone who can lead us there. 

As you were,

Jay 

Human Sacrifice-still Around?

There is no doubt that as humans we have grown up in the ways we celebrate religion.  In earlier days there were human sacrifices, animal sacrifices, rituals and rules about how one connects with God or Gods.  The "religious" laws that were laid down as immutable in earlier times are very much out of date now. Kosher laws and Shariah laws are medieval in origin and irrelevant today even though they are blindly followed by some even today.  We have grown past the need for Stain Glass windows to tell the stories of the Bible, because we can read. We have grown past the idea that Kings and rulers are divine and effectually God on earth, because we realize our equality as humans.  As we progress in our understanding of this vast universe and all the people who populate the Earth the "ways" we worship God have changed. 

The problem is that our concept of God has not changed. The fact that Deity is still mostly identified as male is just one old concept that is out of date. Some believe that God is a Lord who holds us over a pit of fire with a string. At any moment we can violate his love knowingly or unknowingly and he will cut that string sending us into eternal damnation.  We paint God as a conditional, capricious super hero that has a very small tent and heavy cover charge in the form of "accepted belief" for all who want to gain his favor. 

The most disturbing thing today is that out of the  7,095,217,980 people in the world, approximately 2,234,993,663 still believe in a God that demands human sacrifice.  They believe that the love of an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient Being is appeased only by the death of a human. Nothing else will get God's attention or curry his forgiveness except human sacrifice.  These two and a quarter billion people say that no matter how loving your are, nor good you are, nor what level your sacrifice for others, you have no connection to God's love if you do not believe in human sacrifice. In other words, a real person has to die in a symbolic ritual in order for anybody to have the keys to Gods love, and it is the ONLY way.  

The Jews who are credited with the concept of a single Omnipotent God instead of several who share power.  That concept of a single God has been embraced by most every religion in the world aside from Hinduism, which is believed to be one of the oldest of religions.   But the Jews stopped the practice of animal sacrifice thousands of years ago. Why do more than two billion people still embrace the practice of human sacrifice in 2015?

Why in the 21st century when we have seen so many ideas change, from the shape of the Earth and its journey around the sun, do we still believe in a God who requires human sacrifice? I can see no reason to accept this arcane concept of Deity.  The erroneous concept of Deity remains if we believe even in the symbolic sacrifice of a human being. In one commandment this God tells us not to kill, but in order to enter his presence this same God requires a human sacrifice.  I can't believe that an Omniscient God would break his own rule against killing. Is it okay to kill as long as God tells you too? Then the commandment should read, "Thou shalt not kill unless I say it is okay and then it is required."

I think it is time to realize that we have created God in our own image, not conversely. We give him human qualities such as anger, jealousy, revenge, holding a grudge and conditional love.  Who can worship a God that is so humanly flawed? As the caterpillar is to the butterfly so are we to God. The caterpillar can not conceive of the butterfly nor understand that they are one in the same individual life.  A human can not understand God because, like the butterfly, ITS entire Being is different than what we can comprehend from our caterpillar existence. 

Ignorance is its own punishment. The only cure for spiritual ignorance is enlightenment. If we hold to outdated concepts of Deity we will never have that communion with the all powerful, which religion promises. I do not see it as heretical nor blasphemous to see Omnipotent, Loving, Omnipresence, Omniscience as greater than the qualities and personality of a human. In fact I believe that we are required to constantly adjust our understanding of God because the nature of God IS change.  While the force will always and has always been the same, we have never come to a point where we can define God, and we never will.  The eternal quality of God is progress, change and progressive movement toward a greater good.  If one does not let his concept of God grow then God is an irrelevant relic. If we hold on to the past and worship a picture that no longer represents what Deity looks like,  how will we know what Deity looks like now?

As you were,

Jay

Seven, Eleven ---

"LeMona" the Birthday Clown

I was born on July 11 at 4:37 am. That's 7/11. If you add the first two digits of the time I was born you get 7, 7 is also the last digit of the time. If you add the first and last digit of the time (4 +7) you get 11.  Things seem to express themselves to me in 7's and 11's. I am very comfortable with the way my numerology worked out.  
But when you travel outside the USA your numerology gets all messed up.
Instead of God's way of expressing a date: 
month/day/year 
some governments demand their forms be completed in this format: 
day/month/year. 
This is stressful even for those who are not dyslexic. 
  

Okay to be honest day/month/year is a more logical way to express a date, going from the smallest units to the largest units of  time measurement.  But that is not the way we learned it at Abernathy, Texas Public School.  The world should have gotten to gather then and decided which way this date format would go. But they didn't. 

I like my birthday numerology just the way it is. Seven-eleven. Sounds lucky.  It is lucky. Seven and eleven are big numbers in the game of craps. You can split the numbers of 7 and 11 on a roulette wheel with one chip.  I grew up singing this lyric in the  60's: "Hearing seven come eleven now in the boys gym...Charlie Brown..." from the song entitled Charlie Brown by the Drifters.  Gambling and folk lore have bestowed mystical qualities on the numbers 7 and 11. They are lucky for me.  My first and middle names have a total of 7 letters. My last name also has 7 letters.  My legal name with middle initial is a total of 11 letters. I always try to hide a 7 in every picture I draw.  My son's first name has 7 letters.. Seven / Eleven... is lucky.  July 11, that's 7/11 . NOT 11/7... you Canadians. Let me enjoy the pagan ritual of random assignment of numbers and the joy it brings, one day a year.

So... since I am not leaving the country today.... Today I am the master of my numbers. Happy Birthday 7/11 to me. 

As it is,

Jay

Happy Birthday America

It will be a weekend of summer fun to celebrate the birthday of our Nation.  Enjoy it.
Just like this illustration of the flag we have gaps that need to come together.  Yet even in this illusion of separation we are tied together by a common link grounded in a common root.  We stand together as individuals.
We fought for freedom and liberty, but now we have to express those qualities in understanding and compassion.  We do not have the freedom to oppress others for who they are. We do not have the liberty to be hateful to anyone, any group or any idea.  Americans have the right to be who they want to be as long as they know that right is the very connection we have to each other.  The rights given to individuals are the same rights to all. To deny freedom of choice to anyone is to deny the freedom of choice to everyone.  To deny love to anyone is to deny love for everyone.  No one is liberated unless we all respect one another's liberty.
Enjoy the hot dog... the barbecue but remember in your afternoon conversations.... Great people discuss ideas........ Good people discuss events........ The lowest form of discussion is about "those others".

As you were,
Jay

The Apple Watch

I am not one of those people who will stand in line over night to be the first to get the new Apple gadget.  Don't get me wrong, I am a dyed in the wool Macintosh evangelist. I take the 1984 Ad campaign introducing the Macintosh as gospel truth.  Mac is the "Computer for the rest of us".

If you are too young or now too old to remember that 1984 ad introducing the Macintosh, it was a classic.  Directed by Ridley Scott, it was shot with depressingly grey tones as an homage to Orwell's literary vision of 1984.  A hypnotized crowd of blandly dressed people stare soullessly at a movie screen while an equally bland talking head spouts nonsense.  A young blond woman sporting a white tank top tee shirt and ample legs extending from a pair of red shorts skimpy enough to make you wonder why they stopped at just that part of her ass, bursts into the theatre and runs down the aisle with a big hammer. She is full of color against this very grey backdrop.  With the power and grace of an Olympic athlete she hurls the huge sledge hammer into the film of the talking head.  It shatters the screen and breaks the peoples trance.  The announcer says "Macintosh... the computer for the rest of us."  They had me at the red shorts.  

I traded some writing work for my first Macintosh. It was the original model bought by my friend Harry who had already up graded. It would signal a Macintosh arms race for Harry. Harry is someone who will stand in line for the next Apple gadget and has the money to pay cash.  In the 80's I was next up to receive the hand me downs from Harry's upgraded computers. At the time new Macs were coming out almost every 16 months. Harry always wanted the latest and the fastest. The hand me down machines were loaded with software (another aspect to the "Mac arms race") but never any instructions or documentation.  That meant for me to fully use these new toys I was gifted,  I had to figure them out on my own.  Little did I know this is exactly the way to really understand something.  To this day my understanding of Macs and iStuff is better than average.  

I have the latest iPad, iPhone and  iMac. I even have the latest app on the iPhone which I have used the average number of times... two. Once when I bought it and once when I showed a friend how terrific it was.  But I do NOT have an Apple Watch...by the way why didn't they call it iTime?

Here are my reasons. You may have a much different list.

I love the idea of knowing what time it is. Unless there is a clock I can read in the dark near by,  I can't sleep well.  I roll over several times in the night to calculate how much time I have to continue sleeping. If I don't see what time it is, how can I calculate?  Okay, a professional might see this as "other " than a clock problem... but still.  

Modern smart phones have taken all the fun out of knowing the time.  They are never wrong, never need winding, they adjust immediately to time zones and daylight savings time. But it is the accessibility of that information that is troubling.  It is the reason I never liked a pocket watch because  since time is of the moment, time should be easily accessible. It is sometimes inconvenient to reach into your pocket to get the time.  For me smart phone clocks are like pocket watches. Even though it is a better gage of time, it is not easy to retrieve.   I like the time to be only a twist of my left wrist away.   I got very good at sneaking a look at my watch when I was on stage at a comedy club, but now? Try to sneak a look at the time when your "watch" is in your back pocket the next time you are trying to think of an excuse to get out of a meeting. You might think that having a watch with a million different faces on your wrist would be perfect.  Not so. 

Here is my issue with having the extension to a smart phone on my wrist. It only the problem of getting the smart phone out of my pocket to see the time.  While solving that issue it creates a plethora of others. 

This is what happens when I have that obsessive need to know the hour and minute of the day.  I take my iPhone 6s out of my back pocket, touch the home button to light it up so I can see the time... the only activity I wanted to do at that moment.  Flash! Up on the screen obscuring the time is a notification or two.  I missed a text, voice message and a missed call, there are 15 new Facebook messages, and 10 new likes, there is email I haven't seen and CNN (Crisis News Now) has an alert that is vague enough to make me doubt my personal safety. I immediately click on CNN to see if I am in danger. The news story turns out to be an event that happened on the other side of the globe. The text message is in response to the missed call but the issue was solved with the voice message. A Friend has sent me a video of some jackass trying to ride a unicycle on a power line, which results in a concussion for the unicyclist and a blackout on the west side of town. Although I take the bait, all the Facebook likes are directed to a cartoon I posted three days ago. There is an email that needs some attention so I spend the next five minutes trying to thumb type a response. (Don't get me started on auto-correct... that adds five minutes to any response)  I touch "send" and  hear that satisfying "swoosh" sound meaning the email has been sent. I have accomplished instant communication. I click the iPhone to sleep and it goes back in my rear pocket.  I have wasted a lot of time but I don't know how much..... because I FORGOT TO LOOK AT THE CLOCK. 

Even if the Apple watch was thin enough not to make me forget that it adds several inches to my wrist size (big watches do not go gently under a long sleeve shirt) it would not work for me.  AND although I could set up the watch with the classic face of Mickey Mouse, his arms doing a Vanna White to tell me the time, there is still that problem of my attention span.

Here is me with an Apple Watch. I sneak a look at the time because what I am doing is boring the hell out of me. Pop! Up comes some abbreviated push notices (tiny enough to fit on the tiny screen) of things needing my attention. Mickey's hands tell me that not only am I bored, I am wasting what little time I have left. It might mean I have to take my smart phone out of my pocket to respond.  I don't think there is a way to "type" on an Apple Watch. If there is I suppose you have to use your eye lash. So... no Apple Watch for me.  Strictly old school for a while yet.

However, here is a modern day plan for getting out of a boring meeting/lunch in the smart phone age. Don't wear a watch, keep your smart phone in your pocket.  When you are bored with the conversation, look perplexed. Say to the other person, "Wow do you know what time it is?"  He/She will take out their smart phone to tell you the time. While they are busy replying "like" to all the puppy pictures on their Facebook timeline, responding to texts, posting a tweet, and returning the calls they missed. Slip quickly away.  

Works for me.

As you were,

Jay

Back to Show Biz

No political injustices outed.  No religious philosophy or devotion discussed, just a story about "the BIZ".

I find that I have come to that point in my career (perhaps my life) when remembering and writing about an experience is almost better than having to do it.  Like yesterday.

This is not to say that it was not fun, I had a blast, there was no pressure no stress but the reality of creating illusion is sometimes a chore.  

Hallmark Channel's show, Home and Family honored Robert Guillaume yesterday.  They gathered as many of his former co-stars from the two series he starred in as were available, and several others there via video clip to honor him. The retrospective on Robert's career in show business was concluded as Robert (Benson) Guillaume was given the "Hollywood Appreciation Award".

Those present in the Universal studio/house that is the set included, Katherine Helmond, Robert Mandan, Rene Auberjonois, Jay Johnson and Bob (me... or more accurately US) along with the dozen or so co-hosts that live in the Home and Family house.  Ted Wass, Jennifer Salt, Dianna Canova, Missy Gold and Billy Crystal made breif appearances via video messages.  They had gathered relative clips from Benson and SOAP in scenes we had done together years ago with Guillaume.  The show was heavy on SOAP clips although Benson was only on that show for two seasons while starring in his own spin off - Benson for seven years.  

Both of those shows were aired in the late 70's through the 80's.   Although it doesn't seem possible, mathematically that works out to be 38 years ago.  Time and age are very dysfunctional companions.  Thirty- eight years ago, when I was working with Robert Guillaume, I was in my late twenties.  It would be another decade before I would actually be 38 years old. Now, that is half of my life span ago.  Looking back is always a shorter trip than contemplating the future.  

SOAP had a younger cast which averaged around my age and an older cast that, well, were older. The older actors, playing our folks, were in their late 40's and early 50's at the time.  They were seasoned veterans of stage, screen and television.  They were the ones we looked to for the guidance of experience through uncharted show business waters.  It is strange to realize that I am older now than they were when we worked together.  This is especially true when this time machine of video clips transports you back to those days. There is nothing as humbling as having a split screen of yourself today looking at work you did almost 4 decades ago. I'm not sure I wish that experience on anyone. 

So here I am sitting on a couch in a fake home on the Universal Studio back lot, attempting to recreate the title shots of SOAP. I remember the original shot like it was yesterday, but today is very different from then.  My adult friends, my mentor actors and leaders shuffled on to the set in wheel chairs with walking canes and physical help.  Katherine Helmond, who was never a tall lady, seems so much shorter than my memory of Aunt Jessica Tate. Robert Mandan would no longer play the dashing philandering overstuffed Armani suite wearing Chester Tate, he would be cast as the grandfather today.  Robert Guilliaume has mostly recovered from a stroke many years ago, but he times his Wit a little more slowly and with limited physicality. I know they are all in their 80's now.  I could have looked up an exact age for each, but why would it matter anyway. This present moment is all that really matters. There have been so many from the cast who have died, it was thrilling to just be around the ones still here. 

Rene Auberjonois looks the same to me.  I have seen him more often over the last few years.  He was the only one there to represent the Benson Show family. He was just back from a trip to Australia, and that is a literal  fact.  He was jet lagged and fried. His plane landed two hours before his call time on the set. He was repeating the same calendar day in his life as he landed the day before he took off from down under.  It is another example of how time seemed to be an irrrelevant mash up, but more importantly it speaks to the trouble freinds would go through just to honor our friend Robert. 

It was one of the hottest days of the year in drought stricken Los Angeles but with a heavy dose of hummidity to make it sticky and uncomfortable. It was also the day the airconditioning failed to come on at the Johnson hacienda.  I took one shirt to wear and one to change into for the show.  Both were dripping wet the moment I put them on. 

The set for Home and Family is an actual house, well an actual movie house. It looks like the real thing except when you look up there is no ceiling nor attic. That space is filled with lights, grids for more lights, microphones and tiny airconditioning ducts that are totally ineffective against the heat from outside and the furnace blast created by the movie lights.  Even though I just put on my jacket for the takes, I had the look of a drowned New York subway rat washed up after Hurricane Sandy.  The makeup team resembled plate spinners as they ran from person to person trying to mop up and powder sweaty faces.  None of the faces seems to be as sweaty as mine.  I kept remembering that old show biz chestnut... "never let them see you sweat" - it was an impossible task to accomplish that day.  

I longed to be in a studio on the Universal Lot with fake walls, fake landscape back drops with tons of room and 30 degrees cooler than this "house". As I looked out the real window at real landscaping, on camera it looked very little different from a well painted back drop. It was hot and tight.  Along with a large regular cast, five guests (with at least one extra person to help them), gaffers, camera operators, cable pullers, sound men, stage managers, prop men, makeup ladies, segment producers wardrobe people and the set decorating crew there were maybe a hundred people crowded into a very warm crowded space.  There were even some shots outside in the yard and on the patio, so the doors needed to be open for cables.  I resorted to standing in a closet that had been converted into the sound department, just to get out of the way.  It was cozy, along with RF receivers, extra sound boards, microphones and cable there were three people claiming that space as their office.  They understood my interloping and tolerated me for a while.  

The coldest place on the lot was my dressing room trailer.  It was 40 degrees and felt like heaven.  Unfortunately it was parked a block away from the set and I was there no longer than 20 minutes over the course of the three hour shoot.  

Robert Mandan, Katherine Helmond, Robert Guillaume
(Chester, Jessica, and Benson)

They sent a car for me so I didn't have to drive. Thankfully so,  because the driver drove me through an entrance to the back area of Universal that I did not know even existed.  On our journey to the set my car passed by one of the Universal City tour trams loaded with tourists. I could hear the tour guide giving his spiel. The riders strained their necks to see who was in the back of the limo.  One person snapped a picture with an iPhone. Thank goodness the windows were heavily tinted. Their fantasies about who might be in that limo would certainly have been dashed if they had seen who it was in reality.  Once again we all participate in the illusion of fantasy even if I was miscast as the "mystery celebrity in the limo" that day.

It was all over too quickly.  I was also there to promote my DVD "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only" which I am told turned out to be a blurb on the credit line at the bottom of the screen.  It was not the reason for being there, it really was to honor Robert.
I was hot and miserable and knew that my red face was not televising well.  Puppet Bob was in perfect makeup and no shine whatsoever.  He is the poster boy for "never let them see you sweat" he never has.   I am sure that viewers watching at home felt like Bob had certainly held his age a lot better than me.  Just before we all ran for the air conditioning I snapped a quick picture of my friends on the couch. Bob Mandan made a Chester face, Katherine's smile shone as ever it did and with trophy in hand the honoree gave me a trademark sly grin. True Pros.  How lucky I am to work with them, to know them, and still be touched by their friendship.  No one said it out loud, but everyone knew it would probably be the last ever SOAP reunion celebration, I'm sorry that I didn't get a selfie with me and Bob in the picture.  But then again... I don't need a picture.. I have my memories and now have this blog to recall that special moment.  Soon it will not be about how hot it was that day, but how special it was. 

As you were,

Jay

MeVeM

MeVeM

Church and Marriage

""The World is a stage and we are mere players" said Shakespeare, so this is my monologue.  In the words of Edward Albee, "I write to know what I am talking about."

Here is what baffles me, when did "marriage" become a Christian right to grant?  And how does the recent Supreme Court ruling constitute an assault on religion, especially Christianity?

Stage note - aside:  

To circumvent a possible misunderstanding of my spiritual journey and study; and to limit comments intended to convert me or save me, let me explain.  

 I have come to my belief in the Omnipotence of Deity from conscious contemplation and serious study.  In this post I will reference Biblical passages that, in my opinion, support the thesis. They are merely footnotes. If Bible quotes are not "your thing" disregard. 

With that having been said:

ACT I

Marriage is a legal distinction.  A governmentally sanctioned contract intended to facilitate the transfer of property and create a partnership that carries accepted rights and responsibilities.  It is a license issued by a governing political body, normally the State.  The legal enactment of this contract is carried out with the public affirmation of the two parties and witnesses to that process.  The governmental body which grants the contract also authorizes several kinds of public servants to oversee the process.  They include: a judge, a court clerk, a justice of the peace, a ships captain at sea and...any recognized member of the clergy (i.e. Priest, Minister, Rabbi, Imam, Cantor or Ethical Culture Leader). They are all authorized to perform a marriage. In some states the clergy must first be certified with their own license granting them permission to do so from the State. Something akin to a notary public who is licensed to witness and verify signatures for the government. 

Organized religions of every kind have co-opted this right to perform this contract of marriage and attempted to imply that their authority for a marriage comes from God.  It clearly does not. The most elaborate wedding performed by a Bishop himself in a church with full ceremony, would not be legal if that ceremony did not include a "license" from the government.  Those couples married by a court clerk during a lunch break are equally valid as any religious ceremony... if they both have a license.  

This marriage license contract exists so that if one of the partners dies the other partner is not excluded from the possessions they both acquired together.  Simply put, because the law recognizes this union blood relatives of the deceased can not simply claim their property by inheritnce.  During the AIDS epidemic I knew of many couples who were victims of family greed.  These devoted couples saw a life time of possessions and real estate taken away from the surviving partner by blood relatives who did not "approve" of the relationship.  Since there was no license available for their bond, the property grab was totally legal.  Finally thanks to a Supreme Court decision, that never needs happen again. In fact the very case brought before the high court hinged on this very principle of survivor's rights. 

Setting property inheritance aside in the discussion of marriage, what about the bond of love itself? Isn't that marriage?

The attraction of one being to another has no explanation. Why anyone desires a relationship with anyone else is as mystical as love itself.  The need to be with another doesn't just exist for humans, it is everywhere.  Eagles, Wolves, Gibbon monkeys, French Angelfish and even Schistosoma Masion Worms mate with one partner for life. There are 7 other species we know of that are life long monogamists as well.  What drives animals to dedicate their lives to a single partner forsaking all others for life? It is the mystery of love.  In nature the mate is not always of the opposite sex, sometimes two females sometimes two males. There are certain species of worms that have no specific gender at all, yet they mysteriously bind together in some sort of love. Surely these relationships are God ordained; therefore God must have something to say about marriage. 

Well if he does have rules about marriage they don't exist in his Kingdom. At least not so, according to his earthly surrogate.  Here comes that scripture I was telling you about. It is from the word of Jesus in the book of Matthew.

Matthew 22:30

…But Jesus answered and said to them, "You are mistaken, not understanding the Scriptures nor the power of God. "For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven."

Not just once but that concept is repeated again in Mark.

Mark 12:25

…Jesus said to them, "Is this not the reason you are mistaken, that you do not understand the Scriptures or the power of God? "For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven."

So if "marriage" is not a heavenly requirement of God, where is the authority for the Church to determine the application? Love is the only rule of heavenly relationships, like angels.  But what about love between persons of the same sex. What is the exact sex of an angel?
At this point I would expect someone to quote Leviticus 20:13 and Leviticus 18:20 as rebuttal. 
"If a man lie with another man as with a woman it is an abomination." 
Although it would seem from an absolute interpretation of this passage that lesbian couples are okay since it does not mention a woman being with another woman as with a man.  But that is not the point. 

What other abominations does the Bible point out that seem to cause less concern for God's wrath?

Proverbs 6:16 -19- There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.

In my thinking there are certain radio hosts that seem to make a living by sowing discord among brothers. Why does that not get people to cry abomination? In fact Proverbs is just full of abominations that don't seem to concern some people as much as some other abominations.

Proverbs 12:22  Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, 

Proverbs 15:8  The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord, 

A reason to rally against capital punishment? Would seem so..

Proverbs 11:20  Those of crooked heart are an abomination to the Lord, 

Proverbs 20:10  Unequal weights and unequal measures are both alike an abomination to the Lord.

Butcher get thy thumb off thine scale...

And number one on the top ten abominations to be considered...

Proverbs 28:9  If one turns away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer is an abomination.

So .... marriage equality is now the law. It is a legal document that protects the rights of every couple equally. It seems like God would be in favor of equality and fairness. This legal license does not threaten the Church with abomination. There seem to be plenty of ignored abominations to go around. We do not get to choose our personal favorite abominations and  "turn our ear away from the law."  If we do that "even our prayer is an abomination." 

Scene and Curtain-  

As always the opinions expressed are solely my own, not intended to be the only interpretation, nor only point of view.  I would expect yours might be different and I respect yours as you respect mine. 

Namaste

Jay

TO THE FLAG...

Eddie Izzard has a wonderful monologue from his "Dressed to Kill" DVD on the conquest of the world with "The clever use of flags".  He claims that historically invaders planted flags and pronounced invaded land conquered. When the inhabitants of the land objected stating "We live here" the invaders would say, "Do you have a flag? Then it doesn't count."

Here is the reason that routine comes to mind. Along with some incredible memories I bought back from Ireland, I also returned with a head cold. This has kept me in bed for the day with only the television as a distraction from nose blowing.   After several weeks with limited (by choice) access to American news I was carpet bombed with never ending coverage about a flag. There seems to be nothing else of concern to any journalist on any station but the fate of this antiquated furling piece of fabric atop a South Carolina State Government building. 

I get it. I understand the connection this flag has to racism, oppression and recently mass murder in a church.  But it seems to me that it has taken on a mythology unto itself. "If we just take down that flag then racism will go away in America." As if covering up a fatal wound with a bandage keeps the patient from bleeding to death. 

Oh, but America is responding to this "flag crisis" with Walmart refusing to sell the emblem followed closely by Ebay, Sears and Amazon.  And although NASCAR will not out right ban the flag at it's events it will (and this is a quote) "Discourage the use of the flag."  And the American public has responded by purchasing up all the Confederate flags they can still get, surging the demand to a 3894% increase over average sales.   

And if it really is as important as to be the front page of every newspaper in the country today, why doesn't South Carolina just not fly the flag today? That's right,  just don't hoist it up the flag pole TODAY. Unfortunately the best the demonstrations in Charleston could do is get the state congress to agree to discuss the matter later this summer. Then the measure has to pass by a two thirds majority of the locals when the national news has moved on to some other over reaction.   

I am sure that the governor of the state, who has come out in favor of removing the flag, has the ability to order state flags at "half mast" in honor of the funerals of the 9 people beginning this week.  The Confederate flag isn't even their state flag so why can't she just order that flag to be flown not just at half mast but "no mast".  

As it is now the body of South Carolina congressman/Reverend Clementa Pickney, will lie in state at the capital building while atop the building flies the very flag waved by his murderer.  Thanks Walmart but,  the only Confederate Battle Flag that matters for the next week is the one on the South Carolina Capitol.  

It is a start to sanitize the public from symbols of bigotry and racism, but that is only the symbol of the issue.  Where was the public outrage a few weeks ago when President Obama launched a Twitter feed and with in minutes there were more than a quarter of a million replies using the word "nigger". The only outrage was later when he himself used the word in an interview. Once again we obsess on the minutia of the problem.  President Obama, used the word to make the very point that Americans are avoiding.  It is not so important that we just refrain from racism in public, we have to eliminate racism at the core of our being.  

Back to the brilliance of Eddie Izzard,  since we have a flag now that we all agree symbolizes racism and hatred... why don't we have a flag that represents tolerance and acceptance.  The idea drilled into us every July 4th is that the American Flag is such a symbol.  I wish it was so, but flying a flag outside your locked door where your assault rifle is loaded and ready in case "those people" try to come around is not the answer.  In that case it is a empty piece of cloth signifying nothing of substance.

As you were,

Jay

Over Heard, Over Served, Over Seas...

Pictures convey only part of the experience of traveling. We live in a world full of sound.   I find the sounds of Ireland sticking with me as vivid memories. There is no documentation that does them justice. And they do not exist in a vacuum. Recording them is like trying to convey the scene with only one color of the spectrum. 

There were the bells of distant cathedrals in Dublin, the giggles of the childern at play near the ruins of Athenry Priory, the absolute silence of the country side interrupted by the staccato bleet of a sheep, the wind that blew across your face atop the Cliffs of Moher and the sound of music, everywhere there was music, from the pub, from the buskers of the street and even the buggy driver humming to his horse. But it is the sound of the Irish people, their charm and friendly nature which I will miss the most. 

We had to get out into the countryside of Connemara to really hear the musical lilt of the Irish accent. German and American accents seemed to donimate the cities.  The true Irish lilt was occasionally so thick I was not sure if it was English or Gaelic. I was surprised to find so much Gaelic still in use. Some of the Aran islands do not speak English even today. School children are sent there to emmerse themselve in the native language.  

That is the case at Ennis Oirr.  This is where we met our cart driver Michael and his horse Bob.  Michael looked 87 years old but told us he was actually only 67. He was born on this island of only 300 residence, and has lived there all his life.  His wife spoke no English and they never spoke to their children in any other language but Gaelic.  Michael was very difficult to understand and when he was not turned around talking to us he was singing and humming softly while encouraging Bob the horse to continue on.  He had great stories about the island and shared them as Bob pulled us around the narrow stone walled roads. At one point Bob farted loudly in our direction. It stopped all conversation (and breathing) for a moment. Without missing a beat Michael began to sing "The answer my friend is blowin' in the Wind" with the elevation of his unruly grey eyebrow. 

We Americans have a hard time with this combination of Gaelic writings and Irish accents.  Written Gaelic is difficult to even sound out. The name for their head councilman is pronounced "Tea Shock", but it is spelled "Taosingh" You can be looking at the word while someone is pronouncing it and still not connect the two.  During the intermission of a play we attended, a hurried bartender pointed to someone who bluted out his order, "Whiskey" the American tourist said.  The bartender handed him a glass of water. It was a show that locals attended and the Gaelic word for water is pronounced "wisky". It is an American mistake. An Irishman always orders a drink by brand name if he wants to have an adult beverage. A pint of Guinness or a spot of Jameson is the proper order never just a beer or a whiskey

My friend Harry asked directions of a man in Athelone. He prefaced his remarks by saying, "Are you local?" The man replied, "Well I'm here now." 

While I was taking a picture of Sandi a couple of Irish men stopped so as not to "photo bomb" my composition. I was not quite ready to take the picture so I waved them on. Instead of crossing and continuing on their journey they attempted to pose with Sandi for a moment, "I thought you were wantin' us to be in the picture." They said with a wink. 

An older couple got on the train with their luggage but there was no place to put their bags. In a serious lilt we heard the man say, "I guess we'll have to stick it up the other end." 

Americans stand out like... well foreigners for the most part.  Not so much "ugly Americans" just cluless.  I heard a twenty something girl at the Cliffs of Moher blurt out a little to loudly, "Oh My God, like, who owns this place?"

I was not immune from being a clueless American myself. I kept asking what day we were going to Calamari when the name of the town is Connemara. And on the train when the announcer would announce the stops he would alway say, "Thank you for traveling" and end with the name of the train company which is, "Larnrod Eireann"   To me, every time he said it I heard, "Thank you for traveling "neither Here nor There."

We attended a play/musical concert of poems for the 150 Birthday of WB Yeats. We did not like the performances that much and referred to it after that as the "Yeats Infection". 

I fell asleep in the back seat of the car driving to one of our destinations. It was beautiful rock wall fences and rolling meadows full of grazing livestock.  Harry asked me how I could sleep while seeing such beautiful scenery. I said without thinking, "I was counting sheep". 

But the all time best thing I heard was from Sandi as we were walking the Cliffs of Moher.  The entire vacation was the time of our lives spent with Harry and Elizabeth Anderson. Not only is Harry one of the funniest people I have ever known, he is also my best friend.  At one point Sandi said to Harry in all seriousness, "I can laugh or I can walk but I can't do both at the same time." It was the naked truth.  There were many, many times we had to just stop walking because we all were laughing so much. 

Although we had our darts we never got to play a game at a pub.  The girls were not so much into it and believe it or not, dart boards were harder to find when distracted by a well poured pint of Smithwicks and Murphy's.  Harry and I played another game we bought at a local toy store called "story cubes".  It is a series of 9 dice with various pictures on each face.   The game involves rolling the dice and making up a story that includes the suggested actions on the dice.  We sat together at the nearest pub and played "by the pint".  I do not remember laughing that hard in a very long time, if ever.  What an experience of beauty, love and laughter. All things Irish as far as I can tell.

As you were,

Jay

 

Dublinia

Only in Ireland, Dublin specifically would you find a church on the grounds of St. James Gate Brewery. But then again this happens to be where they brew Guinness.  Arthur Guinness is a virtual Saint in the city. I am surprised that there is no Catholic mass conducted using Guinness instead of wine.   

They sing his praises on every tour and especially at the Brewery tour. 

During a trip to New Grange which is about an hour out of Dublin, an American from Philidelphia asked if we had been on the Guinness tour.  The tip off was the Guinness hat and sweatshirt I was wearing at the time. He asked, "On the tour do they have a place where you can sit and have a pint?"  I laughed out loud and said, "The entire Guinness Storehouse is one large bar." That is not entirely true.  It is actually a gathering of Guinness resturants, stores and "consumption areas" in what can only be considered a Mall dedicated to an original grog called Porter Extra Stout which Aurhur introduced in 1759.  The rest as they say is Irish History.  It is odd for a guy like me who grew up in a very dry area of Texas to see people waiting in line with a glass of beer in their hands. I adapted to the custom very quickly. 

One of the best moments of Guiness day was the "connoisseur bar".  We would not have known it was available if friends had not told us about it.  It is a beautiful quiet bar isolated from the "theme park" aspect of the rest of the tour. A Guiness expert bartender gives history, stories, and most importantly samples of the Guinness product line called "variants".  And of course we are taught the proper way to pour a pint of Guinness. There are six steps in the process and it takes 119.5 seconds to perform correctly. Although it takes a couple of times to get it 100% right, newby Guinness bartendwers like myself are allowed to drink their mistakes.  Here is a picture of my second attempt, notice the extreme concentration on my face.  

Is that dedication to the art of Guinness? or a stuper caused by some other reason?  The answer is both. The dedication to the art of Guinness is supported by the stupor caused by perfecting the art of Guinness. 

Of course this was only one day in a couple of weeks in Ireland.  It is as beautiful as I was always told it would be. No wonder why green is so closely associated with Ireland. Everything is green, and so many kinds of green. And Dublin is the city of writers. James Joyce, Bram Stoker, Oscar Wilde (to name only a few). The inhabitants value the arts and there are book stores... actual books being sold there, on almost every corner of the city. I don't know my heritage.  I have never gone on Ansestry.com, the only thing I have ever been is Texan. However, I have such an affinity for this island Country I plan to forge my ansestry to make myself Irish. 

As I write this Sandi and I are on the train to Galway to meet my best friend and his wife.  So far the vacation has just been a warm up for the fun to come.  Erin go Braless....  lock the pubs and hide the darts but keep the Jameson flowing.

As you were,

Jay

New York My Lady

New York City is a wonderful friend. If it has gender I suppose I think of her as a lady. A lady that I lived with for a while and occasionally come back to visit. She always puts on make up and throws a party when she knows I am returning. Oh, I know it is not just for me, she dresses up for all her old boy friends.  But she has this way of making us all think we are the only one in her life. It is an illusion that can be busted by just looking around at the sheer number of people here to see her.  

Not to say that she is always perfect; behind the makeup those who know her well can see the beauty marks, but the familiarity of those imperfections make you feel at home.  You really don't know her if you haven't seen her naked.  She always seems to  deliver perfect weather when I come, especially when I am traveling with my wife. NYC always wants to make my wife jealous and remind her that there is a competition for my attentions. I reason that it is because I am one of her favorites.  It is my own self-delusion. I know she can be fickle and a consumate tease. 

This time of year she holds the party of all parties, The Tony Awards.  This is an occasion to celebrate her adopted children. Some think of them as the "special kids", those actors, singers, gypsys, designers and yes even a ventriloquist who have come to bask in the Great White way of her extroverted charms. This theatre gang is a unique club but inclusive of all who seek after and discover that light. I was lucky enough to be invited into that circle several years ago and return to share in the celebration when I can. 

What I love most about the grand lady called New York City is her energy.  Whatever you want, whenever you want it, she has it available.  She is the perfect hostess but not a cheap date; why do you come back if you can't afford the cover charge.  

This time is no more special than the last time, but each time recalls the best time and makes the current time seem special. However, as I walk down 7th Avenue something is different. One of the regulars is no longer here.  The Ed Sullivan Theater hosts neither Ed nor David Letterman.  It is sad to see the marquee lacking the iconic Late Show logo.  The lady has a a way of erasing any physical trace of past affairs even long term engagements.  The Helen Hayes Theatre, my home for a while, is lacking an occupant as well.  I want to beg her to let me come back and do my show there once again, at least until the next occupant needs the space. But it is not the way the Lady will have it.  It is enough that I had a turn and got to dance at the party. She gave me my reward. It is the Tony Award her ultimate gift. It sits upon my mantel and spins at my whim reminding me not to be greedy. There are so many others waiting to experience her magic; it is  huburis and nostalgia that keep me from understanding.  

And that is really the bottom line.  I did not leave New York, she just told me it was time to go. She was ready to move on but I had not yet reached that point. She has so many suitors, but for me it  will forever be an unrequited love. And in my moments of clarity I know it is the best for both of us. We will always have memories of the good times and none that were bad. 

What more can you ask of an old friend?

As you were,

Jay

Caitlyn Jenner?

While the world was clicking on pictures of the July cover of Vanity Fair magazine to see pictures of the new born sexagenarian Jenner, I was obsessing over another story in the news. 

It seems that the TSA failed to stop 95% of the items that were smuggled through security at major airports.  Fortunately the guys attempting to smuggle the items aboard were on our side and working to improve the system.  However, 95% is a dismal failure at protection of the flying public.

How many heads are we allowed to carry on?

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I am not a fan of the TSA as an organization.  I have always thought they were rude, inconsiderate, minimum wage earners who assume all passengers are guilty before they walked barefooted though the metal detector. As much as I thought they could improve their "bedside manner", at least I thought the system was working.  

Now we find out that not only are they rude and ignorant, they are also incompetent and  ineffective as a deterrent.  So.... why are we putting up with this invasion into our rights if it is only 5% effective in keeping the traveling public safe?

My name sake Jeh Johnson, head of Homeland Security, vowed he would "get it fixed".  I hope he can. Although one would think that 14 years of draconian practice would have given us a better system by now.  How much longer do you need?  The reason I'm asking is I am flying coast to coast the end of the week, could you get the TSA success rate to a passing grade before then?
  

Here is the problem as I see it in airports across the country. There are three kinds of TSA agents employed to search us travelers. 

1) The tough guy rent-a-cop.  This is a person who can't make it into the police force for whatever reason so they decided they can be authoritative and a little bit of a bully at the Airport.

2) The Couch potato screener.  These are over weight humans who would be sitting at home watching a video screen anyway so why not get paid to do it. The show on the airport television is not as interesting, but then again they don't have to pay any attention.  

3) The Bored dropout. Being a TSA agent sounds better than "fry cook at Wendy's". As soon as they find any other job they will be gone and can't wait until that moment happens. 

Yeah I know that not all TSA agents fall in these categories.  I have even met some that seem responsible, polite and competent. But 95% failure to stop deadly items from getting on planes is unacceptable. That means it is not just the "staff" that is not working, the entire system is a failure. 

So could we please pay more attention to a TSA make over than an aging athlete's gender make over?The TSA directly affects the lives of thousands of people, while the "Jenner gender" affects only one. 

As you were,

Jay

Judgement Day...

I started writing this blog when I knew I was on my way to do "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only" on Broadway. (Cheap plug: It is STILL available at Amazon.com - and iTunes- and even HULU... I will be hocking the DVD on the streets of Van Nuys soon.)  My blog was an attempt to take my friends and relatives on the same unique Broadway journey I was on at the time. It was all new to me and every day brought a new experience to write about.  In New York I felt like Ernest Hemingway journalizing about a foreign land.  I still find New York City the ultimate place for a writer to do research. 

Being semi retired in Encino, California rather than doing 8 shows a week on Broadway in New York makes unique experiences harder to stumble onto.  It's harder to find things to write about than it is to crank the blog posts out. I sometimes feel like the social events reporter for the Muleshoe Texas Weekly Journal.  So if  any reader is confused about the editorial direction this blog you are not alone. It is not my intention to become preachy nor political in these blogs.  I write what's on my mind and for the last year or so my thoughts have turned inward. Thus the blogs have less to do with the short picture than the long view.  But I digress..  

This blog is just to set the record straight about an essay on Pat Robertson I wrote a couple of days ago.  Although I do not agree with his politics nor his lifestyle I did come down hard on a man I have never met.  I called him judgemental and still hold to that opinion, but realize that by tagging him with that label I am being judgemental myself. I am now in a quandary; how to do call some one judgemental and not prove that you are as well?  

It's like that paradox "Can God create a rock too heavy for him to pick up?" For me that one is easier to deal with. The trick is in the question. If you assume an anthropomorphic God who magically makes things like rocks appear; and this superman God is all powerful you can not resolve the "heavy rock" paradox. 

Back to Pat Robertson for a moment. His philosophy is that of a humanlike God who creates rocks that impede your progress or stepping stones to guide your way depending on his mood. He judges and condemns creations, has favorite people that he loves more and tolerates demons that he hates. This is where Rev. Rob and I split paths. Anytime you attempt to explain God in terms of what a human would do or what a human would think, that explanation is profoundly wrong.  

Sometimes when I hear evangelicals explaining the wrath of God or how God has blessed the Friday night Football team with a win, I think they are talking about Zeus from ancient mythology not an Omnipotent, Omniscient Deity.  The synonym for "Supreme Being" is not "Super Man" although to hear some Christian Scholars talk you might not get that distinction.   

Any human concept of God is false. Any time we rationalize an event in terms of what God was thinking is blasphemy.  Human intelligence is not sufficient to comprehend God nor his power. God doesn't get mad, nor jealous, nor weary, nor vengeful nor is God defined by any human emotion or terminology.  God is not a He nor a She nor any other quality that a human understands. 

So back to the rock. God CAN'T create a rock that God can't pick up because God only creates ideas of himself. In metaphoric terms God can not be separated from the rock because the concept of a rock can not exist outside of the consciousness of God.  Therefore the human idea of being separated from something like a rock and the need to pick it up is a human delimna not a spiritual one. 

So rather than judge a guy on what he believes and become part of judgement itself, why not discuss the ways our thinking differs.  Explaining the process of our thinking will explain the results of our perceptions. In computer programing terms... "Shit in shit out".  

So Pat Robertson, sorry if I judged you. We just think differently that is all. I will keep attempting to explain my philosophy.  And I as hear the explanation of yours, I can't help but think you are simply restating the concept of Roman Paganism to a television generation. 

As you were,

Jay