My Father Who Art Not Me

I can be eloquent like my father. I can be strong. I can be a rock, a pillar. I can be loving, kind, considerate—cold. I can have a cough, a cold, Ebola, malaria, AIDS. I can be smart, can live everyday like it’s my last. I can drink milk from wine glasses, and a shot of bourbon for nightcaps. I can be political, powerful, poignant with my points. I can care for my fellow man. I can go to church. I can read the Bible. I can quote scripture, a chapter, a verse. I can contemplate the Universe. I can question God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, god, Gandhi, King, Marx, Hitler, Horace, Pope, Swift. I can be eloquent like my father.

But I am not him.

On a side note: Perhaps it is not enough to have a month, to tell recent stories and experiences. Perhaps a reflection on AIDS in the media is also required:

Walker says it:

Family Guys says it:

Team America says it:

Pat says it (about 35 seconds in):

Pat says it…again (at the 1:27 mark):

Perhaps, if the rest of America was more like Texas Walker Ranger and 21st century satire writers then stereotypes would fizzle out. Perhaps, if Christians, like Pat Robertson, weren’t so ignorant and pompous with their power and influence, then the world view of AIDS would change, or, perhaps, most Christians have a relationship with the world that is like my thoughts about my father, and Christians cannot be something they are not.



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