Ambition By Schweenie I want to be a junkie when I grow up junkies have such resilience such determination junkies have balls but I'll never be good enough to be a junkie because I don't have the backbone the character the resolve it takes to be a real junkie A House Divided: Part I By Captain Willard       There is a "new" movement in the church and it's here to revolutionize and revitalize the greater Christian community. It is a calculated mission headed up by millions of overactive teenagers and college students. They know what is best for us because they are the keepers of all that is authentic and untouched by 2,000 years of structured religion.       I don't understand this variety of people. I've spent nearly three years in John Brown University chapels trying to figure it out. I tried to avoid the temptation to judge, to submit to the impulse to dismiss any of the charismatic chapel worshipers as false, which was my gut reaction.       The second reaction is a sort of perverted admiration. I did, for a time, long to be like them. There were so fulfilled, so fucking into themselves. It makes for a good hour, I guess. And you can feel better about yourself if you've been "touched" anyway. Well, I never felt "touched." The faulty conclusion I drew was that the dancers, the hand raisers were so much more in tune to the Spirit of God than I was.       Let's clarify something now, while I remember it, because I rarely remember the important things. No man or woman has the authority to proclaim another as having neither less nor more right to the Spirit of God. It's been my experience that those who truly do reflect the Spirit of Christ are the most self-deprecating, while still being the most joyful, and they make few judgments.       It wasn't until much later that I realized how flawed my previous conclusion was. I started making some observations. The better the music, the more hands in the air. The more precise the guitar playing, the more exaggerated the swaying. Everybody has favorites, too. If their favorite praise song was playing, man could they worship God.       I also noticed something else. First of all, I grew up in a fairly structured church with hymns. It wasn't until I came to JBU that I realized how beautiful and poetic the lyrics to some of those old hymns are. The songs appearing on the most frequent basis in chapel had the blandest, most trite statements about God that I've ever seen. I got the feeling that God was insulted. We've been given the beauty and poetry of language, maybe we ought to use it. Simplicity is effective for simple minds, I guess.

The other thing I observed about hymns is that, on the rare occasion they were sung in chapel, there was absolutely no reaction to them. These very strong, inspirational words dedicated to the one true God drew not a spark from the person who was previously writhing about to "Shout to the Lord." This suspicion was only further confirmed this last Tuesday when it appeared that some were flat out refusing to sing the hymn. There was really no excuse. Its words and music appeared in the book in front of them. I suppose it wasn't fucking good enough for this "new" generation.       Lastly, it occured to me how much of a commodity praise and worship had become. You can find an exclusively praise and worship album by almost any Christian artist now. I mean, c'mon, they're selling praise and worhip on those commercials that end in the blue screen with the 800 number and credit card logos. Is that not a bad sign? It's ammusing that you can't even separate the two words anymore. It's the official lexicon of the Christian portion of the Buster generation. At this point, any sincerity has been watered down. Praise and worhship is nothing more than a re-wrapped copy of I'm Okay, You're Okay.       All of this seemed inconsistent to me. How was it more appropriate to worship God in any particular setting. If we truly believe in any sort of omniscience, how could we continue in this moral relativism with respect to worship styles. In light of all I've observed and felt in the pit of my stomach, I've composed a manifesto for the "praise and worship" generation.       Nothing about you seems authentic anymore. I watch you everyday standing up for the acoustic guitar and sitting down for the piano. Your dramatics are tiring. You are smarmy, over-earnest, and slightly delusional. You are not a "new" generation that needs new music. You are not special and you are not the revival of a spiritually dead America. "There is nothing new under the sun," Solomon said and you are no exception. The Baby Boomers were neither more nor less pure, authentic, or materialistic than you are. Your revolutionary form of worship has already become tired and cliche. Are you endorsed by North Face and Nalgene? Go get a gig on TBN, they'd like you there.       If you happen to be this kind of "ultra-worshipper," and you feel offended or insulted, be patient. I'll get mine in the next issue. Talkin’ ‘Bout ‘Ginas By Cleo       Thank you Eve Ensler: the word ‘vagina’ is all over the planet these days. Vagina, vagina, vagina. It is kinda fun to say. Vagina. But I digress. Today we’re talkin’ ‘bout ‘ginas. I cannot believe I’m doing this. I hope my mother never reads this. In fact I hope no one I know reads this…somehow I think that’s a pretty safe bet. I’m preparing to tackle the topic of female sexuality. The only reason I’m remotely an expert is that I too am a proud owner of my very own vagina…also, I’m pretty damn opinionated.       What is it with this cult of female sexuality that has overtaken our corner of the planet? Coming out of generations of white middle class oppression, I am perfectly willing to admit that female sexuality has historically been exiled to “it’s a wife’s duty” land. Nice young ladies do not think about sex, and they certainly never enjoy it. And I think this mindset is still adhered to by many of our fine evangelical friends and neighbors.