Category Archives: religion

Mark Morford is a Mraztafarian

He may not know it, but that’s ok. We’ll welcome him anyway for being the snarkysexy writer he is.

In today’s column he talks about fighting the Terrorism Watch List by creating a Bliss Watch List. It’s a brilliant idea. Why didn’t we think of it before? It’s like a social register for the kind of people who would follow a fake Jason Mraz religion.

Mr. Morford writes:

The BWL will contain only the names of people widely suspected of being savvy, titillating, open-hearted, deeply lovable, sexed-up geniuses of divine intent and hot self-exploration and ravenous intellectual curiosity.

It will contain the names of anyone who is suspected of daring to understand that life is not, in fact, a clenched and harrowing slog, but an actual ongoing, incessant, stunning manifestation of the divine, even when it’s dirty and violent and obnoxious and horribly dressed and seems to contain only a bleak never-ending rundown of doom and decay and Dick Cheney. It’s just that kind of list.

I don’t think it could get any more Mrazalicious than that. Read the rest here.


Who’s the Leader of the Club That’s Made for You and I Both?

Last night I had a group meeting for a volunteer project I’m working on with the Taproot Foundation. If you’re a designer, copywriter, webmaster, or marketing type in S.F. or another large city, and you want to build websites, put together brochures, or work on branding for some very cool non-profits, look them up.

My group is assigned to an organization that helps high school students start and grow gay-straight alliances on their campuses. It gives them resources to improve tolerance, work with administrators and legislatures to fight for equal rights for LGBTA students, and teaches them about how the legal system works so that they can help advocate for change at local, state, and national levels. It’s all very empowering and probably looks great on a college resume.

This got me thinking about my own high school days when I was president of our Interact club. Interact is the high school off-shoot of Rotary and centers on community service. We worked a lot of festivals and food booths, painted little smiling faces at carnivals, and did some beach clean up. Yep, that was me during my rowdy teenage years: library volunteer, hospital candy striper, band geek… try not to fall too hard in love with my free-spirited past.

But then I brought this massively, Mrazticly good idea full circle and started thinking that what we really need is a Jason Mraz Alliance Network that can set up shop at high schools. Jason already has a strong youth following, so why not build on that and use his message of love and thankfulness and blind faith and appreciation for gravity in order to spread goodwill among other, duller people?

Our youth ambassadors can offer crucial emotional support, maybe counsel one another after break-ups (“I’m sorry, but there’s no doubling back, now.”) and hook-ups (“Who am I to say this situation isn’t great?”) and talent show acts that bomb (“I don’t get it. People write me off like I’m a one-hit wonder. Gotta find another way to keep from goin’ under”).

They can plan social outings, like “You and I Both” sing-a-longs and screenings of all those movies Mraz says he loves in his I Love the 70s appearances. And they can get political, sponsoring summer Mraz camps where aspiring world-changers can study Mraz lyrics, write their own, and brainstorm ideas for bringing more sassyquirkycool originality into the schools.

Chocolate bars and Cinnamon Bun flavored Ben & Jerry’s ice cream will be served at all meetings.

The only problem I see is that I promised that our Mraz-based non-religion would be completely unorganized – no meetings, no rules, no policies – and this goes against that golden rule. But a true Mrazonista is always ready to break the rules, when they’re silly, so I guess we can get around that. Our Curbside Prophet says, “Religious Studies and Jon Heder films are my two greatest guilty pleasures.” And now we have the power to bring those two things together in one great high school club concept, kinda, except for the religious thing.

So who wants to start the first chapter of Merry Mrazturbators? Yeah, the faculty aren’t going to like that at all.

It takes some words to make an action,

No National Day of Prophesying?

My calendar says that today is a National Day of Prayer. You know what that means, my fellow Mraztafarians. You can do it kneeling, standing up, sitting in traffic, walking through the grocery store, while pumping gas, snuggling with your other, snuggling with a heaping mug of whatever makes you happy, or while singing in the shower, but sometime today, find your inner happy place and practice some deep Mrazturbation.

If you don’t know what Mrazturbation is all about, give this blog a little search, listen to some old school Waiting for My Rocket to Come or maybe a live Mraz bootleg, then decide what it means to you. For me, it’s the idea of bringing myself pleasure by entering a Jason Mraz-like state of hopefulness, happiness, kindness, sensuality and wit. It’s completing an act of selflessness, self-endulgence, or anything in between, depending on my mood. It’s finding one action a day that makes me happy to be me, that makes me think, “Life is really damn good. Bring on the cabana boys.” 

A passerby in a promised land,

One Curbside Prophet, No Waiting

Hello There,

Are you new to this blog? Have you just recently found me? Have you just recently discovered the music and magic that is Jason Mraz? Well lucky you. Your day just got a whole lot brighter.

If you read The Mraz Doctrine over to your right there, you’ll see that I’ve written up the beginnings of a whole Mraz-based religion/spirituality/plug-and-play new faith thing. It’s all in good fun, so laugh at the good bits, ignore the parts you don’t like, and have a good time with it – especially the Mrazturbation part.

Want to make the whole experience interactive? Tell me about your Mrazian revelations, the moments of clarity you’ve experienced when seeing him perform live, how you think the world would look if we all saw it through Mraz-colored lenses, or the ways Mraz has made you a happier, stronger, goofier person. Or just tell me that you think he’s, like, soooo totally hot. Ain’t nothin wrong with a little Mraz lust.

Or send me a good recipie. Chocolate souffle anyone?  

I Feel Like Boston Clam Chowda in a SF Sourdough Bread Bowl

Love stampSitting in Logan Airport yesterday, waiting for my rocket/airplane to come, I decided what I want to be when I (refuse to) grow up. I want to become a professional wedding guest. I think it would suit me.

I can chat up those older relatives who sit uncomfortably not knowing what to do when all the young people are gyrating on the dance floor. I’ll always make sure everyone gets dessert. And toward the end of the evening I’ll go around and use up any of the disposable cameras that haven’t been finished off. In my favor, the food is plentiful and tasty, I get to dress up, and there’s always a cute, young bartender or waiter to flirt with.

My first move in setting up this business would be to hire my friend, Paulo, as my partner. At the end of Kerry and Sean’s wedding on Saturday, the band thanked him for putting on such a great show and keeping the dance floor jumping. Who gets thanked by the band? He’s a wild man, and everyone loved him for it.

The wedding was perfect, just as comfy/casual and unpretentious/elegant and perky/cute as I would expect from Sean and Kerry.

The best bits:

  • Kerry’s vows, which included the sentiment that she loves Sean “because he can do math in his head”.
  • The handmade truffles, many of which disappeared before dinner was ever served.
  • Hitting the Phoenix Landing after the wedding to continue the dancing. It’s not a swanky place, more of a post-college dive, but we all arrived in full wedding gear, including the bride and groom. I’ve never seen two people get so many free drinks before.

The bits that could have used tweaking (if I ran the world):

  • There was no Jason Mraz medley. I would have included one pre-ceremony, another during dinner, and a third to close out the evening.
  • Fewer vegetables, more desserts, including my much-dreamed about chocolate buffet.
  • Oooh! Even better, I would incorporate Jason Mraz into the chocolate buffet with a chocolate Mraz statue to sort of watch over the festivities. You have your ice-sculpted doves or Virgin Mary, I’ll have my Guittard Prophet.

See, this is why the Mrazian Order of the Curbside is such a great religion: you can pick and choose how you want to incorporate it into your day-to-day life, including ceremonies and events. In an era of dim sum spirituality where you can pick and choose what feels right for you, Jason Mraz can be your tasty pork dumpling of love and acceptance.

This is how I write when I’m hungry.

In the end, to answer my own question from last week, I can go home away from home again. Boston was cold and wet and I loved every block of it. It was reassuring to see how little has changed, and how much I still love everyone there, even if they are all doing just fine without me. So I guess I can stay in California for now, but also know that my Boston family is always glad to have me back.

Halfway home and I’m still out on my own,

Sin All You Want. Just Take Out Insurance First.

I got this email the other day from a friend in Nebraska who works in insurance.

“Today I called the Nebraska Department of Insurance to see if I would need licensing by the state to sell ‘Rapture Insurance’. This will help insure people against the adverse effects in case Jesus returns to take the faithful, and they are not selected. I was surprised that the woman on the other line was willing to have a serious conversation with me about this topic. Apparently when you work for a state’s department of insurance you’re immune to finding anything unusual.”

It just staggers the mind.

What I find most bizarre isn’t so much that people think the Rapture could really happen (seriously… fighting the urge… to go Simpsons anecdote crazy… oof), it’s that people think that in a reality where the Rapture could happen, the same reality would still contain something like insurance. I mean, if Jesus shows up, do they think they’ll watch it on FOX, make a Hot Pocket, get a good night’s sleep, then head over to the insurance office in the morning to pick up their check? Because my version would involve a lot of burning and supernatural events, and would not include grocery shopping, paying a cable bill, or using a Rapture Insurance check to head to Home Depot for supplies.

I know that people whose religious beliefs are so out there that they would ever consider this kind of insurance is probably a very small minority, but all the same, I think I’ll stick to my made-up Jason Mraz-influenced spirituality, with a hint of Bokononist-style physical affection and a dash of Oompa Loompa common sense.

Given good manners you will go far,

Recipe for Happiness, or Tummyache?

I celebrated Easter by finally making the flourless chocolate torte I’ve been salivating over since I found the recipe two years ago. I just knew that it would be a meal in itself, and it seemed like every other time I thought about making it I already had boxes of truffles or brownies or other goodies so that I wouldn’t be able to really appreciate it. With Girl Scout cookie season safely over though, it was torte time.

Into the pot went one pound of Guittard semi-sweet chocolate, one pound of butter, a cup of sugar, a cup of whipping creme, and, oh yes, nine eggs. Hours later my torte had baked and cooled and I topped it with yet another 12 oz. of semi-sweet Guittard chocolate mixed with another cup of whipping cream.

It was heaven, it was decadent, it was pure madness, and it was just what I needed. Some people have their midnight mass or their Easter egg hunt. I have my Live at Java Joe’s chocolate fiesta. We all experience spirituality in our own ways. Now to the bubble bath.

Overjoyed and over loved (and over stuffed),