Rant of the Exiles

A fake letter-writing service matching men with "angels" reveals how we value lies over truth and to never underestimate the power of human longing. As usual, I'm late getting on the podcast bandwagon but I have listened intermittently to NPR over the years so that must count for something. The stuff on Hidden Brain is high quality but the Lonely Hearts episode is Stephen Curry break-the-Matrix-type-of-good. *SPOILER ALERT* If you listen to podcasts, I suggest listening to it first before reading. If there's little to no chance of you tuning in, read on.  In Lonely Hearts, Shankar Vendatam narrates the story of Jesse who developed a romantic correspondence relationship spanning a decade with Pamala. Or who he thinks Pamala. Rather, it was a chain-smoking, middle-aged, snake oil salesman in Moline, Illinois named Don Lowry. And unbeknownst to Jesse, Lowry was sending copies of the exact same letters Jesse received to men all across the country. The

I did the memorial service of a friend in our church recently. He was seventy-three years old and died after a two month battle with cancer. He was a faithful servant in our church but my feelings towards him would often alternate between fear and frustration. He had a gruff demeanor that could be quite brusque and unapproachable.  A couple weeks before he died, I visited him at a skilled nursing facility in Saratoga. I was late finding him and caught him during his physical therapy session. I walked in and he looked up at me. He didn't say "Hello" or "It's great to see Fred" or even crack a smile. Instead, he said sternly: "I'm not ready for you right now. You can come back later." In anticipation of this kind of response, I did some work on my laptop while I waited for him outside his room.   My frustration with him concerned his lack of vulnerability. He wasn't open about his weaknesses, wasn't expressive with his emot