The Academy Awards were aired this past Sunday. I couldn’t have cared less, even though the next day I still checked to see who won.

The whole thing is a joke anymore, though it’s always been pure escape, spectacle, glamour and glitz and shallowness on display for the world to see. It’s hard to find a more pretentious, needy, self-important, sensitive bunch of people gathered in one place. Well, except maybe in the Executive Branch of government or a local school board meeting when the public is invited to speak.

The red carpet, the acceptance speeches that offer up a mix of gratitude and platitude and over-the-top emotion, and soapbox wisdom we’re supposed to lean in for because hey, these are important people who make a living playing make believe. Anyway, it’s a chance for the plebes to live vicariously and ogle the beautiful people and their enviable lifestyle and their borrowed dresses and jewelry. It’s all maybe a bit sad.

And the drama surrounding those awards that were going to get presented during commercial breaks? Cue the vapors. Thank the Lord for the A-listers who came to the defense of the poor cinematography and film editing folks, and a couple other categories.

And let’s not forget the Monday morning quarterbacking and the emotional investment of critics who argued passionately over who should and shouldn’t have won. Better to let the experts at ET sort it all out.

A white supremacist who apparently considers Anders Brevik an inspiration was arrested recently for stockpiling weapons and plotting a massive attack on Washington dignitaries, mostly Democrats, along with other targets.

One could get the feeling that something awful is always brewing, that it is always going to be a struggle to be at peace with our differences. I don’t understand supremacist views- how they can still exist apart from ignorance and a narrow world view actually inherited as wisdom, intentionally passed from generation to generation.

Baseless assumptions, unparalleled paranoia. Simply hateful and, ironically and sadly, derived to some extent from a twisted interpretation of “what the Bible says.”

One thing for sure is that anyone who watches Donald Trump in action can learn how to be an asshole. For all with aspirations in this direction- you have an overachiever IN THE WHITE HOUSE. The Donald would love to show you how to brag and steer every conversation and utterance back to yourself. How to put words together and still not say anything. And he’s like a school kid who tells everyone that his dad is tougher than your dad.

It’s difficult to fathom how his supporters keep hanging in there with him, though I guess in a way it’s no different than what many were doing for the eight years Barack Obama was in office. Except back then we were dismissing and deflecting constant assaults from Fox News and company on everything from a birth certificate to being a Muslim to, in general, being the worst thing to ever happen to this country.

At least the current occupant warrants that last dig. And so many more.

Here’s hoping Mr. Mueller’s indictments reach all the way to the Oval Office. That’d be the best.

Another government shutdown has apparently, hopefully, been averted. It’s really hard to believe that another one was on the table.

The commentary following the Super Bowl was humorous, annoying, and predictable, what one would expect from people who have long tired of the Patriots, or who have never played the game but just want to be entertained. It was a real snooze fest, the most boring game ever, the season should have ended two weeks ago… The critics came crawling out of the woodwork, ready to pounce.

We’re all entitled to our opinions, and I can’t imagine that anyone rooting for the Rams found enjoyment in it. It wasn’t the offensive show many were expecting, but it was a defensive masterpiece. Inept offense is what’s liable to happen when the defenses are on their game.

The Pats implemented a plan that kept the Rams guessing all night, and the Rams pretty much shut Brady & company down, other than the one drive in the 4th quarter.

Just a different sort of game. And I’m not complaining about the outcome. I hope they get a shot at 7.

If supporters of Donald Trump want to know why people can’t see how wonderful he is, all they need to do is look at the picture of the smirking high school youth with the MAGA hat who was mocking the man singing a native American chant in Washington D.C. the other day. Because this rotten behavior is what Trump inspires.

Besides the man and his winning personality, it’s the ocean cesspool always swirling around him. The company he keeps, the monsters he entices from the shadows. The MAGA mobs, the smiling faces who offer up Hitler salutes, the racist, heartless rhetoric, the climate change deniers, the wall builders, his inner circle of “advisers,” Fox News. It’s a rogues’ gallery of those who present the slimiest possible versions of themselves.

And they all seem to claim Trump as their savior. Trump runs roughshod over words and people every day. He uses people. One gets the sense that he’s had few true friends in his life because he doesn’t know how to handle true friendship. He seems to have no use for it.

He says things either without thinking or with intent to incite malice and anger. He has no patience. He has no plan, other than self-enrichment. And his only tool is a sledgehammer.

I feel the need to walk away from the political noise and minimize exposure to any news outlet. The whole atmosphere is an aggravation, because it seems agonizingly unjust that a person like Donald Trump can occupy the office he occupies, and monopolize the airwaves the way he does. He’s painfully visible. There’s little evidence that he possesses even a short list of redeeming qualities. He’s loud, brash, insensitive, and totally into himself. He emanates a vibe of unteachability.

In a variety of ways, he makes it clear that he is largely incapable of caring about other people. He can’t relate to them and is unwilling to listen long enough to allow any chance for enlightenment or insight or change of heart.

He’s a 72-year old playground bully who missed out on a decent childhood. And now he’s engaged in a ridiculous tit-for-tat with Nancy Pelosi and anyone he considers an enemy or disloyal. And he’s President of the United States.

Many people voted for him.

So, when will Congress find the courage to stand up to Trump and his asinine border wall mission? If there isn’t yet a need for a veto override, might there be soon?

He’s making life miserable for federal workers, he’s jeopardizing national security, he’s insolent, childish, does not and cannot relate to the situation he’s put these workers in, and he needs to be stopped. Imagine- all of this because of a damn wall that is going to do nothing.

A message to Congress: put a stop to this hostage-taker asap. Don’t let him win the day on this one. Don’t give in. Make him eat his peas.

Well, if one was of the mind to waste ten minutes of their life, they could have tuned into any major network on Tuesday night to watch Mr. Magoo try to explain why he needs $5.7 billion to build a wall on the southern border.

Apparently the migrant hordes are teeming with terrorists and rapists. Only thing is there really aren’t any migrant hordes, and there have been 6 people detained who were on terror watch lists. Little Donnie just wants a wall, wants his way, and he’s having a fairly tough time convincing people. He, amazingly, still has his loyal core of lackeys and enablers, but it seems maybe the facade is beginning to crack.

Meanwhile, 800,000 federal employees go without a paycheck. Don’t blame the Democrats, though. This is all on President Dickweed.

Just for the record, Mike Pence is scary, and Stephen Miller, from all appearances, is a highly damaged human being. And Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter- please go find another planet to ruin. Do you actually believe the stuff you excrete, or is it just your schtick, how you pay the bills? So glad you’ve all found your niche. But on behalf of a grateful nation, why don’t you all just walk east ’til your hats float.

Don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning. Maybe it’s the coffee. Tasting a bit like I imagine graphite might taste. Mmmm.

I’m weary from dealing in maybes and hopes. Tired of presenting facades, tired of people looking to me to speak with authority and confidence on subject matter that invites skepticism, that is fraught with questionable authenticity and massive holes in logic. I’m tired of defending faith as, at best, an ally of reason. I’m tired of defending a virgin birth and wise men following a star that STOPS over Bethlehem. What the hell? Was it a localized star hovering at 1,000 feet?

I’m tired of trying to discern the difference between what is real and what is written in the service of mere storytelling. I’m tired of trying to defend a belief system that has striking similarities to other belief systems, most of which originate in human inadequacy and fear of the unknown, fear of death, and a yearning for answers to the existential questions.

I’m greatly fatigued by the seeming need for one to achieve what approaches an altered state of consciousness just to get more fully in touch with the divine. With a God we’re more likely to hear, apparently, when we are absolutely focused and still, and everything is quiet and two or three are gathered in his name.

I’m tired of waiting on a God who seemed to show up with some regularity back in the day, but not so much anymore. I often catch myself wondering who, if anyone, I’m praying to. I’m tired of always having to keep my eyes open and staying alert. I’m tired of creeds that capsulize and dictate what I’m supposed to believe. I’m leary of leaning too heavily on and putting too much credence in words written somewhere between 17 and 32 centuries ago. 

As if nothing of significance could have been written and learned since.

I’m exhausted by the weekly task of having to write a sermon for which I have to find substance in a mystery and relevance to our modern lives.

Are we evolved only to the point of needing to know that there’s something greater than ourselves out there- a benevolent God who sees and cares for us? A place where life is good and neverending? Will we evolve beyond this need for God? Will science and reason give future cognitive life forms all the answers and render God a quaint notion of bygone and naive times? Or is science the result of trying to quantify and measure and explain something a supreme being just… made? Is evolution from God, or will evolution eventually remove God from any discussions?

Will we ever arrive at a time when every single question has a satisfactory answer?

Who knows?

Despite all of this, I will continue to pray to a God I hope is there. Because the alternative would be to accept that we really are on our own. And that, besides being almost as absurd as belief, would just plain suck.