And there were these attacks in Paris by ISIS, the "Islamic State."
I started this blog largely to have someplace to reflect on family life, but I'll be honest, world affairs and politics have kept me pretty sleepless for several nights. I made the mistake one Sunday evening of reading some lengthy analysis of the Islamic terrorist group and it became something of an obsession with me. (I think everyone should read this analysis of ISIS from The Atlantic. Just be prepared for how disturbing of a reality it is.) "We will conquer your Rome, break your crosses, and enslave your women,” one of the group's spokesmen has said to the West. “If we do not reach that time, then our children and grandchildren will reach it, and they will sell your sons as slaves at the slave market."
The response here in the United States has given me no comfort. There is a humanitarian crisis of huge proportions brewing in Syria and Iraq, and the indifference of many of our leaders is difficult for me to comprehend. We keep seeing images of all of these people -- men, women, and children -- floating on boats, seeking asylum in Europe. Something like 2,500 have died trying to make the passage by water. Yet 31 governors and every single Republican presidential candidate has said we should close the door to refugees fleeing persecution by religious zealots. A few have gone further and said we should deport the ones who have already arrived. And one has made overtly fascist overtures, calling for the closure of mosques and monitoring all Muslims in the U.S.
I keep coming back to one image though, from a couple months ago. It's of a small, three-year-old boy named Aylan Kurdi. He is laying face down in the sand on the Turkish shore. He is dead.
It's one of those images I'd like to scrub from my head. I mean, I watch horror films by the score. I've watched decapitations, mutilations, and stabbings for pure entertainment purposes. Yet this is so much different. It's a child. It is real.
There is nothing graphic about the image. The boy could be sleeping. The thing that bothers me most are his shoes. They are Velcro.
We have lots of Velcro shoes at our house. Both the Monkey and the Ape are too young to tie their shoes, so most of theirs have Velcro instead of laces.
The thing I keep thinking is that someone had put those shoes on Aylan Kurdi's feet that morning. Someone helped him get dressed because he is too little to dress himself. Someone held his little feet and slipped on those shoes and thought, "I hope these keep his toes dry on the boat."
But life goes on. The Goddess and I went ahead with our plans and were married this past Sunday.
The wedding was really something pretty incredible. We had decided on a Gothic theme, held in a 150-year-old abandoned chapel. The Goddess was extraordinarily beautiful in a white gown covered in black lace. The wedding party walked the aisle to gypsy violin music. Our friend Eva performed the ceremony in full voodoo regalia. My cousin sang a solo to the accompaniment of an ancient pump organ, played by my sister. And we all wore Gothic/steampunk attire, much of it made by my costumer-cum-mother-in-law.
The kids stole the show, really. They all looked great, the eleven-year-old in a black suit and fedora; the seven-year-old in a silver and black dress, wearing a jeweled and feathered mask; the Monkey in a little sports jacket and bow-tie; and the Ape in black velvet and white lace, complete with black velvet newsboy cap.
Monkey and Ape had new shoes, too. Black. With Velcro.
Yesterday we celebrated our first Thanksgiving as a"legal" family. All six of us went to Granny's house and ate dinner with her and the Goddess' grandfather.
I have so much to be thankful for this year, but I've also never felt the weight of responsibility the way I do now. I look at the five faces here at Crackerbox Palace and I'm sometimes overwhelmed by how dependent they are on me. The food they eat, the house they sleep in, their safety -- all of it comes apart if I'm not there. Then I start reading the news and my sense of alarm grows minute by minute, reading about fascists abroad and fascists at home.
Maybe it is universal with parents, I don't know, but the world seems to have gotten more dangerous since I had kids. Yet my instinct is not just to keep them safe. It is also to teach them to be wide open to all the world is and to make it a better place. I don't want them to cower from the deranged, the lunatic religious fringe, the rich and powerful, or the princes of this world. I want them to meet them on their own terms, to shake their fists in their faces, and to scream, "This is my world, too, motherfuckers!"
# # #
I thought I would include below our actual wedding ceremony, for a couple of reasons. One is that a few people asked me for it, curious about what was said. The other was to help anyone who might be looking for a form for a wedding but isn't traditionally religious.
We are avowed secularists, with a love of science. Yet we are also (rather confusingly) deeply spiritual and a bit religious. We strongly believe in the power of the human spirit and feel a need to mark important life milestones with both pomp and introspection.
The ceremony reflects all of that, I think. In a lot of ways it retains the form of a traditional Christian ceremony, with a sprinkle of Luciferian mischief and a touch of voodoo, all within a secular/atheistic worldview. Most of all, we wanted it to reflect our belief that life is brief and love only for a moment, so we should live and love as hard as we can.
We welcome you gathered today, honored friends and family, and ask you to bear witness to the love shared between this man and this woman and join with them in celebration of their marriage vows. Whether you have known them for just a few weeks or for many years, you are an important part of their lives and they thank you for your presence.
We also call forth the spirits of those no longer with us -- not in a supernatural sense, but in a very real way, seeing their faces in the faces of their children and their children’s children, knowing their blood passes through our veins, and that they live in the memories and imaginations of those present.
And we call forth the Cosmos to witness today -- the mountains and rivers, the seas and the skies, and every living thing in them; the sun, the moon, and the eight planets; the stars and galaxies and the unseen and unimaginable universes that lay beyond ours. We invoke them knowing that the elements that form our blood and bones were made in the hearts of collapsing stars untold eons past, and that they truly are our brothers and sisters.
(Turning to the bride.)
(Name), are you coming freely to be married, solely for the love that is in your heart, not under any compulsion, but only to enjoy the benefits of a shared life -- and also a lower taxable income?
(Bride)
I am.
(Turning to groom.)
And you, (Name), are you coming freely to be married, solely for the love that is in your heart, not under any compulsion, but only to enjoy the benefits of a shared life -- and also a lower taxable income?
(Groom)
I am.
("Hallelujah," by Leonard Cohen, sung by the best man, accompanied by the groom's sister.)
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this... the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, The major lift
The baffled King composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, She cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above
But all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
And it's not a cry you can hear at night
it's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
(Officiant. William Shakespeare's "Sonnet 73.")
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
A vow is a promise, made sacred by your love for each other, and kept only through commitment and a good deal of labor, so I ask . . .
(To groom)
Do you, (groom's name), take (bride's name) to be your wife?
Do you promise to love her and adore her,
To comfort her in times of sickness and sorrow,
To delight in her joys and pleasures,
To share in both riches and poverty,
To love the children who call her mother,
To make a home with her, no matter how crazy she gets,
To nurture her hopes and plans,
And to worship her as the rock-and-roll goddess of your dreams?
(Groom)
I do.
(To bride)
Do you, (bride's name), take (groom's name) to be your husband?
Do you promise to love him and adore him,
To comfort him in times of sickness and sorrow,
To delight in his joys and pleasures,
To share in both riches and poverty,
To love those he loves,
To make a home with him, no matter headstrong he gets,
To nurture his hopes and plans,
And always treat him like a rock star?
(Bride)
I do.
(To best man.)
Do you have the rings?
(Best man gives the rings to officiant, if he has not lost them, trying not to drop them.)
(Officiant)
Rings have been used in many cultures and places as symbols of the eternity of love and one spouse’s ownership of the other. The bride and groom would, however, remind us that the joys of love and family are fleeting, that they should be enjoyed in that full knowledge; and that love is not slavery, for no one can truly own the heart of another.
Therefore these rings symbolize the fleeting nature of our time together, for the very elements with which they were made were born in distant stars and will someday return to them; and that love is beautiful and precious, though only for this life.
(Groom takes bride’s ring from officiant. Officiant turns to groom.)
(Groom's name), take (bride's name's) hand and repeat after me:
With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.
Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.
With my love, I will light your way into darkness.
With this ring, I ask you to be mine.
(Bride takes groom’s ring from Officiant. Officiant turns to bride.)
(Bride's name), take (groom's name's) hand and repeat after me:
With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.
Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.
With my love, I will light your way into darkness.
With this ring, I ask you to be mine.
You expressed your love with vows given and rings exchanged. You have kissed a thousand times and will kiss thousands of thousands more, but we ask you today to share a kiss, sealing your love and your life together.
(The kiss.)
Present to you now, for the first time, (groom's name) and (bride's name) as husband and wife!
(Exit back of house.)
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