I'm an Italian American; I won't celebrate Columbus Day

As an Italian-American, the relationship I have with Columbus Day is a strange one, but ultimately a place of pain for me.

I am of a generation of Italian Americans that is far removed from the racial tension associated with an Italian identity (which at a place and time there was definitely that reality for Italians). My father and his relatives experienced being Italian in a far different way than I did. Although my father spent time surrounded by many, many other cultures and people of different ethnic and racial backgrounds, from his descriptions it was far from the unified racial utopia that we all long for. Simply having interaction with another group of people for him didn't erase the felt presence of racial tension that had stood between the different communities of San Francisco. With that in the air, I think there came a bolstering or closing of ranks when it came to standing behind that Italian identity. Sometimes I've seen it lead to stubbornness and rock-headedness that made dying on every Italian-hill somewhat constant.

I love my Italian heritage. I love the culture of my family. I love the values and the positives that come with it. As much as I feel I can now piece out and identify the parts of that culture that are hurtful, damaging, or just misguided I hold it all with a peaceful sense of non-mutual exclusivity. Yet at the same time, I still hold that as my identity: on my dad's side of the family, I am an Italian American who experienced an upbringing consistently exposed to Italian American Culture.

However, having that identity shouldn't make me blindly follow it down a dark hole of history. Italy has its fair share of villains in history and I would be misguided, for instance, to stand behind or prop up someone like Mussolini simply because of their racial origin. So it baffles me that Italian Americans, and even specifically Americans not of Italian heritage, would be willing to die on the Columbus hill. There is a heat generated around protecting a day we call Columbus Day to remember Columbus for 'finding America'.

There is so much I find wrong with that assumption and why it compels us to celebrate a day in honor of him, but I digress. I understand the history of why Columbus day started, and I understand the groups and communities that propelled that day forward, but I don't find it a compelling reason. But now in retrospect, given what we know about Columbus as a person, his activities, his legacy, and the erroneous idea that he 'found' North America, why would we want to stake our Italian American identity or our American identity on that concept or paradigm?

As someone who actually has as a stake in this identity, I want to share a thought with you: I don't want to celebrate or will celebrate Columbus day.

To celebrate Christopher Columbus feels like setting the bar really, really low for who should represent Italians and Italian Americans, let alone the values our country holds. I'd personally get the same feelings celebrating a confederate general that I would Christopher Columbus. History has not stood on their side. And what's more, their very role as an explorer (or in the aforementioned example, a general) was spent expending energy for an endeavor that was ultimately evil, wrong, and against the inherent sacredness and God-given imago Dei that I personally believe every human being holds (including Columbus or a confederate general).

We can do much better to celebrate someone else. There has to be, in all the Italians since Italy stood, a better paragon or example of virtue we want to look forward to. No one person is perfect. Ever. But to throw our identity underneath someone who was a slaver and colonizer is suggesting we are not worthy of something more virtuous or noble.

So yes, I will celebrate Indigenous people's day. Gladly. I won't celebrate Christopher Columbus.

If we can find a day in the year to celebrate an Italian more worthy of attention then I'm there. I'll be there in Green, White, and Red. I'll raise a glad of red wine with you and share my family’s Crab Cioppino recipe to the table. I'll toast the beauty, life, and vibrancy of Italian culture.

I won't toast to slavery, colonizing, and racism, however. That's a banquet table I refuse to choose into.

It's not hard to imagine that these words are coming to the choir for some of you, however, there are still some of us who haven't quite made up our minds about this, or are simply ambivalent as to what day holds who’s name. But I challenge you to think about how we remember history and what face we give it.

What we put in our calendar books expresses what we care about

Giving Up Atheism For Lent

This was originally a ‘thought’ that I wanted to share this last Lent 2020, but never got around to it, nor had a home for it. It lives here now, for your late reading pleasure.

One critique of the modern Church in American which I’ve discussed with many people is the lack of our actions as Christians in the world. Most folks outside the Church can’t really tell us what it is we do, but they can speak to what we think or specifically, are against. We are known by our brand, and our brand these days is very different than what it should be.

And it’s a fair criticism to level at the American Church. Much of what we are concerned with is a call to believe or think the right things at a lack for a substantial action based catechesis. We hardly balk at other christians who aren’t using their weekends to serve the poor and needy, or put their faith into action in their personal lives, but if you question the reality of God in a Facebook post then your brothers and sisters will say they are praying for you in the hopes of recovery.

Now Orthodoxy is certainly important; without it we would have some wrong ideas about God or about the nature of our faith. Most of the big culture issues we think we are just coming to as Americans, the early church spent hundreds of years debating at length with some of the best minds of their time. In fact, without Orthodoxy we’d probably become just as action-less in our faith lives (see the Universalist ‘God’s got it all covered’ theology). 

But the reality is that we are very, very light on the action-based faith lifestyle in the states. I say this as a victim of it myself. The choice to act or to simply think is a quick and easy one for a society that emphasizes intellect and correct thought around a number of issues. Especially when it comes to the hard stuff like serving the widows and orphans, welcoming the stranger or refugee, or standing alongside those in society who are pushed to the fringe and pressed into misery and slavery by the powers of this world. I can tell you how I feel about it but I can’t remember the last time I actually did anything about it.

So it’s confusing to me that Christians would want to go a step further into the realm of even less interaction with God during the Lent seasons when it comes to action; the one season where we should be doing the most reflection and prayer leading up to the Resurrection.  What I’m referring to is a practice which I’ve seen more and more people, even Christians, engaging in called “Giving Up God For Lent”.

On it’s face (and name) the ideas is so disappointing and saddening to me that I don’t even know where to begin. That our modern church has gotten the Lenten Fast so backward that it would equate ‘Lent’ with ‘reduction’ saddens me deeply. The contextual realties of ‘Atheism for Lent’ feels as strangely tone deaf as suggesting that Muslims try pork for Ramadan or Buddhists give physical attachment a try. As Christians our identity is rooted in Christ. To suggest we give up Christ for a season suggests we give up our identity as followers of his words for the sake of an experimental jog around a different theological block. It feels shallow and vapid.

For all the food and actions we fast from in our Lenten season, the idea is not to create void in us by deleting a chocolate bar or a meal but to invite God into those vacuums and spaces. It’s asking our Father to be the all-in-all that we truly need. To suggest that we can grow in faith and benefit in our walk with Christ by consciously choosing to let go of Him feels like a smug way of dabbling with apostasy. It’s some kind of Freudian slip from the participant that implies there is a personal belief that there is not so much sufficiency in the sufficiency of Christ.

When I think of the countless Christians around the world who are being killed for their faith, persecuted because of their love for Christ, and exiled from their homes because they choose to cling to the Hope of the Resurrection, it’s actually a bit gross to think that we Christians in the west would use our western freedom and privilege to disavow the greatest truth and belief we hold, even for a month or two, as some kind of entertaining or experimental exercise. We are sort of already doing this anyway day to day. Many of us are living in a ‘No God For Lent’ life, in which we are actively giving up God and also ignoring our call to live out our faith in the choices and decisions we make. 

I’d be ashamed to tell my Egyptian Christian friend I was ‘giving up God for Lent’ after he has shared his story of torture and near death, countless times, at the hands of people who hate Christ. The same person who gave up his life in his home country to be able to continue following Jesus. That last thing he wanted to do in jail was ‘Give up God for Lent’. 

What we have forgotten in the American Church is that our Lenten practice is a mystical, holy, and ancient tradition that allows us to stand in a rich river of christian spiritual rhythm. For every meal we skip we are feeling with our very body and soul the great gift we have in creation for our stomachs: Food and drink. For every bad habit we choose to lay down at the Altar, we are seeing how devotion to Christ can transform us into new creations. When we devote time to pray constantly in response to these hunger pangs or temptations, we are consciously choosing to say ‘change me Lord’. You’d be surprised what hungers you lose and what hungers you develop in Lent. 

And maybe that’s actually the fear underneath it all. The fear of change is great. Our sense of individual agency and control is even greater. When asked to take a season to change and let go of our control, is our answer really going to be “No God for Lent”?. We are spiritual control freaks at it’s worst.

As Christians, at the end of the day, every day, regardless of what season, we have to ask ourselves: Did we wake up and consciously choose to follow Christ today? Did we listen to the call of The Spirit when we saw a beggar outside our Safeway? Did we listen to the cries of our neighbor through the walls after a domestic dispute? Did we alter the many small but illusory comforts of our modern life in order to live our lives in alignment with Justice, both economic and judicial? When we are called do we say ‘Yes Lord’ or do we say ‘Just 10 more minutes of gossip with my friends!”?.

We love the verses where Jesus calls us to love our neighbors, and to be a ‘good person’, but we conveniently forgot the harder passages. The passages about camels and needles. The passages about luke-warm water. The passages about suffering and being hated by the world.  Lent, I’m afraid, is all about those passages. Biblical cherry-picking christians are problematic no matter how you describe your theology, politics, or way of life.

The last thing we should be asking ourselves during Lent is ‘where can I have less God?”, and instead be asking ‘Where can God fill where the noise used to be?”. Try asking that one question and follow the thread. I can guarantee it will lead to the harder, but healthier questions we each need in our lives.

"Prospect" | Review

I’ve always said that films that feel like a play have a unique power. These films have a limited scope and focus on a handful of characters more than trying to sell you on something grand. But what happens if the “Film Play” can do both?

That’s what ‘Prospect’ is to me. This indie sci-fi film is the brainchild of Zeek Earl and Chris Caldwell, who are also the amazing minds behind the Sci-Fi Production Company Dust, which I highly recommend you check out. As with any film, you should really watch it yourself to get a sense of its theme, but in my words, this is a Western set in something akin to a pre-fall Destiny sci-fi setting.

Where Earth or the core worlds are situated in this cosmology does not matter, because the film tracks the very literal edge of explorable space, which is recovering from a galactic Gold Rush. Instead of gold, what has drawn so many unscrupulous characters is something biologically made, nestled in the earth.

A toxic, toxic moon.

The first thing to keep in mind is that what this film lacks in grand movie production, it makes up for with tantalizing and enthralling lore, easter eggs, amazing prop design,and curiosity-inducing vagueness. Their world-building method gives you just enough to let your mind do the heavy lifting in the most satisfying way.

Cast-wise we are primarily orbiting Sophie Thatcher as the indomitable ‘Cee’ and Pedro Pascal’s hyperliterate but cunning Ezra. To reference my earlier play analogy, this film is eloquently carried by two leads who project a sense of strong personality and captivating intensity. Pedro Pascal came to my attention as the decadent Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones. But now we know him as The Mandalorian. When watching ‘Prospect’ the jump from this film to The Mandalorian makes far more sense and helps flesh out Pascal’s many facets as an actor.

Yet for me, the star is still Sophie Thatcher as Cee. She is a character that befriends you with few words and even more spirit. What Cee begins is a coming of age tale set in a desolate and visceral scenario. The film doesn’t deign to show you the full arch, but poetically explains the ending in visuals. I expect, and hope, to see more great things from Sophie Thatcher’s arsenal of gestures and thespian intelligence.

Sophie Thatcher as Cee

But the devil, or ‘Prospect’, is in the details. The window dressings of this film hold such a singular and unique flavor that it would also be a mistake to rest the movie’s strength purely on the acting.

The Seattle based TAKA Collective, the design firm behind the props and aesthetics, headed these visual efforts which the directors have referred to as Painted Rust'. In fact, far be it from me to attempt to explain this idea. Spend some time with this amazing article by Talkhouse.

There are so many atmospheric and near-psychedelic inflections in this film that it’s worth a couple of watches at least. I myself plan on taking it for another spin when the opportunity best presents itself.

What excites me and inspires me so much about these sorts of films is that they banish a series of myths about what it means to bring Science Fiction and fantasy to the screen. Where we often lean for the larger more visually reliant productions, we may leave those films feeling unsatisfied and not know why. This is because the flashy right hand of CGI was distracting us while the left hand of story and character withed in the shadows.

The ‘Quiet Friend’

Where our beloved Marvel movies show consistent strength in digital wonderlands our indie gems prism to us the light of screen-craft and word-smithing. The ecosystem of visual media for the nerd needs both these things as much as the other. Where one stream runs dry, we can find the creek of the other.

I’ll be honest in saying that there is a potentially very uninformed part of me that fears the silence from Dust films in regards to another feature is signal of depleted bank accounts and lack of interest. I’m probably wrong, and I hope I am. Similar in tone to the tradition of Neil Blomkamp, I think that Earl and Caldwell are a much-needed vision and voice in this medium. Getting past tired sci-fi facades and faded tropes will breathe a lot of life back into the soil of the genre.

So with all that rambling above, I can’t recommend the movie enough. Even if you find yourself looking for a hazy afternoon film, or just wanna get taken for a ride, Prospect will at least be memorable for the uninitiated and inspiring to the acolyte.

Lament For Lost Lands

I grew up in Santa Clara for some of the more formative years of my Tween to early adult years, and I could easily write a series of novels on the amazing memories I have from that time period.

My Teenage years alone deserve a spin-off series called The Intentionally Sad Guy.

It also was when I truly blossomed into what I will call my Nerd-dom; that part of my life where I leaned hard into my love of Fantasy, Sci-Fi and all things imaginative. I can clearly remember reading the shit out of the Santa Clara Library’s fantasy section, and I can still remember the strong sense of excitement, awe, and nostalgia I received when I found the hard cover books in the Myst novelization. I felt like I had found something deep and profound, and I was the only one who knew about it. These poor books, full of amazing ideas and worlds, were relegated to a section of the Library that only myself and one very smelly middle aged man knew about.

And that sentiment has stuck with me all my life. It pained me to see a good thing go unnoticed because it was clearly, a very good thing.

And as I began to seriously get into video games, board games, and RPG’s my love of Lore and world building went on Beast Mode. I read the Silmarillion, memorized a lot of the D&D Bestiary, and then started developing my own worlds and settings. This made up knowledge about places imagined was the fuel that helped it come alive in minute detail. It wasn’t just a book about a girl with a sword who stopped the dead, it was the story of a young woman coming of age in a world where Necromancers are to be feared, and the bells of defensive against dark creatures were etched in arcane symbology passed down from father to daughter. It wasn’t ‘just’, it ‘was’ and it ‘was’ happening in HD in my mind.

With that as the groundwork, I’ll say simply that when I find out about games or RPGs that didn’t get their deserved time in the sun, my heart breaks a bit. There is something unjust about all that to me. It hasn’t been until recently that I really resonate with those people that for whatever reason loved Everquest so much that they have devoted their own free time to host a server for Mac users. I resonate with the guy who has spent a great amount of time writing a blog for the RPG Skyrealms of Jorune because he just loved it so much that he felt the memory needed to be kept alive for the relatively few others who thought that game was amazing. I resonate with the people who scour old gaming stores or eBay auctions for pewter miniatures that can’t be found anymore. I grieve for Gamescape on El Camino Real. I remember being there the last week they were open as they liquidated their stock and moved on to other things (San Francisco I think). 

Before you call my friends and family to make sure I’m not huddled in a corner wearing a wizard cloak, covered in my own urine, I do see all this for what it is.

The gaming industry (video and tabletop) is rather Darwinian. Only the strong survive. I think it’s worth mentioning that there is argument to suggest that D&D could have gone the way of the DoDo if it weren’t for some kind deeds, and devoted fans. Also, one could argue that it was too big to fail, but that’s for another article.

Not long ago I got some kind of inexplicable itch to see what was on Craigslist as it pertains to people selling miniatures and manuals. One very, very kind gentleman who was willing to drive to my place of work to sell me his wares, was selling a series of core rulebooks (Vampire The Masquerade, Shadowrun, and Legend of The Five Rings). These core rulebooks were old. Like 1st and 2nd edition old. But I wanted them. So bad. 

“Are you sure you really want these?” He said awkwardly to the guy he had just met in the lobby of a downtown coffee shop.

“Oh yes, I really do! I want them because I’m a completionist” I replied, trying to not immediately explode in a Dr. Frink style ‘Glaven!’.

“I mean, some of the art is cool. Some is pretty dated. But really a lot of these games have pretty broken or outdated mechanics. The recent editions are far superior” he cautioned.

“It’s ok! It’s for the collection and the memories. I love the art and the lore.” I responded, hoping he didn’t see that I felt like I had just stolen the Hope Diamond.

And the transaction was complete. 

My close friend was there with me watching this happen. He is a full time touring musician and songwriter, which at the end of the day is an experience which is undeniably WAY cooler than this transaction in any given moment. In fact, my friend has taken dumps cooler than this interaction.

My wife recently asked me to clear out my bookshelf to make some space, because, she was right, I just had way too many books. She also hates clutter and I am The Clutter King. So I began the process of clearing out fiction novels, old comics I didn’t want, theology and seminary books a mentor gave me, strange zines I was given when I did music journalism, but when it came to the manuals and the long-forgotten things and games I just couldn’t even touch it. My wife understood.

The thought of any of these player handbooks ending up like those sad, lonely books at the Santa Clara library makes me ache. At least if they’re with me they will get treated like children.

My lament for the forgotten is pretty strong. I lament things I haven’t even heard of. There should be a shrine somewhere in my living room to ‘the unknown RPG manual’. 

But maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this millennial generation of gamers is set to protect more closely the things which we know might end up being taken for granted and then sold in a coffee shop 20 years later. We are, I think, vault keepers for something magical and potentially formative for another generation.

Because you see, these are living things. These aren’t just stories; although stories are powerful. These are experiences that can only be had with friends. I recently saw an RPG online that was created to be playable by one person; the idea was cool  but something in me felt like that very idea is a paradox.

We are set to repeat the age-old tradition of the campfire story but our minds and bodies retell them around a table instead. These games live because we live. Otherwise, they are just words and mechanics suggestions.

At the end of the day, people will love what people love. Maybe my ilk will be relegated to some kind of esoteric gamer Gnosticism. Emanations of D&D and Demiurges of GURPS. 

I’m ok with this. I get it. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Some people don’t care about the setting so much, as much as they love their friends and the beauty that is Role Playing Games and gaming.

But I will say this….These experiences transform us. They can’t be undersold or dismissed. And that’s what feels so sorrowful for me when I read about a critically received game that faded into obscurity. It was like the infinite potential for beautiful experiences was lost to time. 

New games will come and fads and styles will rise and fall. Rules Light. Very Crunchy. No Dice. Lots of Proprietary Dice. Just don’t let them die. That’s all. Someone be the Vault Keeper.

The Barrage

Video Games have been for me an ever-present experience the majority of my life. 

My experience is a bit rosy and cliche; it all started with the original Super Mario on NES.

I can still remember my cousin showing me Duckhunt and Mario (double cartridge mind you) in her living room in Susanville, CA. It was a gloomy day outside and so we parked in the living room to watch pixels jump over pixels. And guess what? It blew my little mind.

Recently my wife and I finished rewatching all of Regular Show (an amazing watch if you’re up for a new, easy to work through Cartoon based in imagination, nerdery, and 80s/90’s references) and there is a scene where our heroes Mordecai the Bluejay and Rigby the Raccoon are playing a console game and the mish-mash of pixels on the screen can hardly be called a picture let alone a shape. When they lift the box art to the screen in an impossible comparison they exclaim “Woah! It’s so life-like”. 

This was my experience with games. I was captured heart and soul by what is in modern comparison, sloppy pixels.

So now to look at this INSANE (and I mean insane) season of games descending upon us it blows up my little mind again. 

A couple of months ago a friend of mine showed me Breath of The Wild for the first proper time, as I was very late to the most recent game, and I have to say it was just another situation where I was amazed at how this longstanding series (another staple of my childhood) was still crushing it. It promptly brought me to purchase a Nintendo Switch, and my wife and I haven’t looked back.

So what’s the point of all this you say? The point is that I’m actually tired.

The sickeningly sweet downturn to this era of bounty is the constant, non-stop barrage of really, really good games. I’m talking really good. 

We’re getting it from all sides and it won’t stop. The indie world is churning out masterpieces while the AAA arena is giving a semi-steady flow of games which allow for a slower or more side-quest based burn. 

What scares me about this is the lack of the sponge-experience. What is the sponge-experience you ask? It’s a thing I just made up.

It used to be that your carefully earned allowance was spent on a somewhat researched game. Very rarely were my socks not blown off. We all purchased the occasional stinkers, but this was a lesson we learned hard and we moved on from. 

Once this golden title was procured, you spent a solid amount of time focused on said title, maybe occasionally breaking away to dabble in a more zen experience through an older title you beat, or a solider side-scroller or platformer.

There was some commitment to seeing something through to the end, or as far as you could manage without exploding your TV in a rage with a carefully aimed controller (See intentional Nintendo Wii Accident). And you know what? Is was freaking magical! 

It was an experience, a journey, and a formative video game season.

But now, we have something akin to mindless meandering from gratification to gratification. 

There is a system in place to allow this. With flash sales and humble bundles around every turn, you can now purchase most hit games for a fraction of their cost. It’s becoming more common amongst my friends and I (all serious and hardcore gamers) to lean into two or maybe three big titles and let the rest wash over you. It’s fine because you can always get them on sale later, but you end up playing catch up. If I am honest my gaming life is about three to even ten years behind. I am playing games that have been beaten 5 times already by some people a year ago, last week.

One could, and maybe should, explore how this represents the Millenial generation’s fear of commitment and an ever-present and chronic “Grass Is Greener” syndrome, but from a practical standpoint, it’s really just frustrating.

The culture of how we play games has shifted to a strange and new thing that is so modern and at the same time around the bend, that I’m shocked I’m not in a coma right now.

Just like so much of our modern age, full of constant content being shotgunned into our ears and eyes, the video game medium industry ‘gallery’ is taking very much the same approach. We are inundated with ads, reviews, and trailers showcasing the ‘next big thing’. 

This leads to a situation for me that is very much a ‘hurry up and slow down and experience all the things at once’. It’s manic and I hate it and I can’t stop.

It’s also led to some kind of bizarre Gaming FOMO for me. I get to hear about all the amazing moments my friends had with a specific game I’ve chosen not to play. I feel like I’m missing out and it’s weird.

Back in my own pock universe, because each game is a veritable masterpiece full of easter eggs, music, and kooky side-quests, by only playing the game for a quarter or less of it’s overall hours I often feel this anxious sense of disappointment when I start a new game. I wish in my heart that I could ‘have the experience’ of playing but I know the realistically I’m only going to get about skin-deep in the story or overall game.

It’s not all doom and gloom for me. When a game captures me I will play it for a healthy dose of time, and even in some cases, I will finish a smaller indie title. Just last week I finished ‘FAR: Sail Alone’ which I highly recommend if you haven’t played it already. I finished it in two days with about 2-3 hours per session. It was magical. 

And I’d be a liar if I didn’t clarify that I spend way more time consistently playing Destiny 2 with my clan and friends than any other game (right now), but because of this, I’ve intentionally avoided some of the other big games that friends have been suggesting (Monster Hunter World, Days Gone, Sekiro).

But the real thrill of these games has a potency still, and that will, or may never change for those who find true enjoyment and magic in the art of Video Game Media. 

No one ever said I have to stop and only play one game for the next three months, and I wouldn’t want to.