t h e s l a n t

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . most people she never tells about the tightrope . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . because she doesn't want to listen to helpful comments from the ground. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

I'm Officially on MYSPACE

Listen to songs here: myspace.com/mollydecker

Monday, October 16, 2006

New Fashion Boutique

My friend's long-prayed-for store REDEEM just opened on 14th and S St. NW, right across from the Black Cat. It's an amazing space--constructed almost entirely by her father and brother--with even better lines of clothing. I can't believe how it came together in the last week.

It's bizarre when friends of mine start their own businesses. Seems like we shouldn't be old enough to do stuff like that yet. And the craziest part...people actually bought stuff. Lots of it.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Regina Spektor

Saw Regina Spektor a few nights ago at the 9:30 Club. I adore her. She is like Tori + Kate Winslet (in Spotless Mind) + Feist. Adorable. The Begin to Hope album is only $12.99 for 19 songs on itunes.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Morbid but true

I think one of the more ridiculous reasons that I have a blog is so that in case I die, someone might take the time to look back through it and see who I had been, what I was thinking, and what sensitivity I had to the world. To notice that I was clever, and that I wanted to learn everything I could about politics and art and God...to know that I felt things so deeply that sometimes my bones ached. To say, I wish I had known her when she was alive.

I wish my grandmother had written in a journal.

I know that if someone I love died, and had a blog, I would read through every line of rambling, analyze every opinion piece, scrutinize every linked bit of media, realizing the undiscovered-ness of the person, their thought process, their craft, their passion, their insecurities. Mine are everywhere throughout this website. So much exposure, its almost creepy.

you know,
you really can tell a lot about a person from what font they use -
how often they write -
how they space their paragraphs.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

We own nothing,
nothing is ours.

Not even love so fierce
it burns like baby stars.

But this poverty
is our greatest gift.

The weightlessness of us
as things around begin to shift.

~Indigo Girls

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Stories from Ghana

Jane is hilarious. Here is her recount of Liza's and her trip back down to Akra after a long and dirty (24 hours in a rusty bus) visit to see the elephants in Northern Ghana...

"we were ridiculously happy when a tro finally arrived heading toward kumasi (8 hours away). when we crammed in the backseat (the tiniest seats ever, and i'm a small asian girl) we noticed that the window (a gaping 5 foot hole) had no glass. oh well, it was a nice breeze. about 30 minutes into the ride though, an enormous bucket full of liquid splashed in from the roof, hitting the old lady in front of us squarly in the face and splattering us. we were so confused. it wasn't raining. where did it come from? maybe it was just rain water.

20 minutes later, we hear baa-ing and hooves on the roof. omg there are live goats on the roof! they do this all the time up north, transport livestock on roofs of tros.so.. from them on... the goats would pee and splash into the window like every 30 minutes for the next 8 hours!! we would go over really big bumps and they were BAAAA and then PEE! and it was sooo disgusting. thank god shio had her ugly EMS rain hat to cover her, but it was still spraying us and all over liz's pashmena. we wanted to cry and sleep! but ended up just laughing hysterically while keeping ourselves covered.

to top it off when we finally arrived in kumasi at 1 in the morning no one would get off the bus. we were so confused. weren't we at our destination? turns out that kumasi is full of robbers at night. women and able-bodied young men alike warned us not to leave the bus: the taxi drivers would rob us, who knows what might happen. so that's how all 40 passengers (crying babies too) ended up sleeping (on a slant cause the bus was parked on a slope) with the smell of goat pee on us, as well as really pungent urinal smell in the station, in tight upright tro seats for 3 more hours. finally at 4am when mosque chanting could be heard we were told it was safe to go.

a nice ghanian named Isaac who slept on the bus next to us walked us to the market (which was bumpin at 5am!). another warm-hearted stranger we met on the street when we asked for directions told us it was still too dangerous for us to walk alone. he drove us in his vehicle to our hotel. thank god for the kindness of strangers. when we arrived to the hotel with working AC and shower it was heaven."

Friday, July 28, 2006

Bright Eyes Lyrics

Conor Oberst writes some of the most phenomenal lyrics ever.

If you hate the taste of wine
Why do you drink it till you're blind?
And if you swear that there's no truth and who cares
How come you say it like you're right?

Why are you scared to dream of God
When it's salvation that you want
You see, stars that clear have been dead for years
But the idea just lives on

Bright Eyes - "We Are Nowhere and It's Morning"

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

I live in the Capitol of the free world. Blows my mind sometimes.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Martin speaks the truth

I have been reading some selections by Martin Luther for my class called Sex, Lies, and Theology: Theology After Freud. I realize that Luther lived long before Freud, but my professor thinks that his theology is applicable even in the post-Freud context. I would agree, as it is the core of Christianity and should be able to withstand any philosophy or psychoanalytical theory, no matter how earth-shattering. I wouldn't have guessed that I would have received such a profound and convicting dose of the truth in this particular class, but it has been really amazing. Last week, the professor basically preached the gospel of Jesus to the class for 2 hours. How beautifully satisfying to hear it from his lips. I hope some of my classmates stop by my church. I think they'd really like what they would hear.

This is an excerpt from Luther that explains why the good works of unbelievers are not, in the God sense anyway, good. I still do believe, however, that their goodness is of God (as are all good things) and can have a positive effect on others. Some of the most influential people in my life have not been believers. God used them anyway. That's why God is God. He's so far above our intentions and manipulations.

"...When the soul firmly trusts God's promises, it regards Him as truthful and righteous. The very highest worship of God is this that we should ascribe to him truthfulness, righteous, and whatever else should be ascribed to one who is trusted. When this is done, the soul consents to his will...Is not such a soul most obedient to God in all things by this faith? What more complete fulfillment is there than obedience in all things? This obedience, however is not rendered by works, but by faith alone. On the other hand, what greater rebellion against God, what greater wickedness, what greater contempt of God is there than not believing his promise? For what is this but to make God a liar or to doubt that he is truthful?--that is, to ascribe truthfulness to one's self but lying and vanity to God? Does not a man who does this deny God and set himself up as an idol in his heart? Then of what good works are works done in wickedness, even if they are works of angels and apostles?"

~Luther, Selections, 59

Monday, June 19, 2006

I recommend that the Statue of Liberty on the East Coast be supplemented by a Statue of Responsibility on the West Coast.
~Viktor Frankl

Already a Ghanian

Monday, June 12, 2006

Well, Liz should arrive in Akropong, Ghana in about 4 hours. So begins her 6 months of teaching beautiful Ghanian children. I'm so glad I got to go home this weekend to say goodbye - I'm gonna miss this girl.

Follow their trip (given they find some access to the internet somewhere) here.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

History of PBS

Bill Moyers' speech on the history of Public Broadcasting given as the keynote address at this year's Showcase in Florida. It's long but quite good. Makes me proud...

..."Let's balance what we're told with what we know. Where did this idea come from that politicians and ideologues define objectivity? No one knows what objectivity means. You've heard of Irving Kristol. He's the Tony Soprano of the neocons - their godfather, one of the most influential conservatives of our time. Surprisingly, I sometimes agree with Irving Kristol. And I especially agreed with him when he said: "The commitment to so-called 'objective' and impersonal reporting is, in practice, a rationalization for 'safe' and mindless reporting. To keep a reporter's prejudices out of a story is commendable, to keep his judgment out of a story is a guarantee that truth will be emasculated."

Read the whole SPEECH here

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Empty - Ray LaMontagne

This is my favorite song at the moment. I heard it first when Ray performed on an episode of Austin City Limits. There is no studio copy, so i downloaded the live version from Bonnaroo - not the greatest quality. I think it is the perfect disillusioned, summer song though. Cutthroat busted sunsets? Doesn't get much better than that.

"Empty" - listen

She lifts her skirt up to her knees
walks through the garden rows
with her bare feet laughing.
I never learned to count my blessings
I choose instead to dwell in my disasters

I walk on down the hill
through grass grown tall and brown
and still it’s hard somehow to let go of my pain

On past the busted backs
of old and rusted Cadillacs
that sink into this field collecting rain.
Will I always feel this way?
so empty, and estranged

And of these cutthroat busted sunsets
these cold and damp white mornings I have grown weary.
If through my cracked and dusty country lips
I spoke these words out loud
would no one hear me?

Lay your blouse across the chair
let fall the flowers from your hair
and kiss me with that country mouth so plain

Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves
to me it sounds like they’re applauding us
the quiet love we make
Will it always feel this way?
so empty and estranged ...

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Actual Conversations

My sister just sent me the link to the website called Overheard in NY. Here's some of the less vulgar postings I thought were funny. Oh, am I proud to be an American...

Suit #1: So she got really mad at me when I was trying to break up with her, she was like "You're breaking up with me cause you like me too much?" And I was like "Ya, totally." She just didn't understand.
Suit #2: Dude, thats rough.
--Yankee Stadium

Jockman: Sweetie, you're being silly. I shaved my legs to be more aerodynamic.
Girlfriend: Don't talk to me.
--F train

Getting on the crowded E at rush hour, a couple from Long Island forces into the train as the doors are closing.
Long Island woman: Come on people, make some room. [To companion] Can you imagine what it's like in that city in Asia, in China I think, what's it called?
Long Island dude: Japan?
Long Island woman: Yeah, Japan, that's the city! They push you into the cars there!
Random suit: You mean like you just pushed all of us?!
--5th Ave E station

Yuppie tween #1: Avril is so hard core.
Yuppie tween #2: Yeah, but Ashlee is way more rock than Avril.
Yuppie tween #1: Avril is, like, ... woah!
Yuppie tween #2: But Ashlee has black hair and sings about her life!
Yuppie tween #1: Avril is so hard core that sometimes I have to plug my ears 'cause it's like, "Avril, you are so hard core!"

Two guys are speaking Russian.
Girl: Are you guys from Russia?
Guy #1: Yes.
Girl: No way! My grandma's from Germany.
--Washington Square Park

Monday, May 08, 2006

Jesus the mason?

So this weekend I was working over at my pastor’s house, doing some painting, caulking, and dry-wall. It was an amazing, clear, warm day – perfect for doing yard work. During lunch we were all sitting around the table and Dan was talking about the person of Jesus. Now, I am pretty sold on the idea that Jesus was a carpenter. It works; it fits my paradigm nicely. Hard-working, confident, creative, resourceful. I have based some of my most foundational desires for a husband on these qualities. Every time I would saw a board or nail something into the wall, I would feel that connection with him – Jesus, the strong, kind carpenter with the good eye for detail. So, you can imagine my surprise when Dan said that the word in Hebrew is actually very likely not “carpenter” but “mason.” What? Jesus was a mason? A brick layer? A rock collector? He was covered in the white dust of masonry? Participated in mass production? He didn’t create delicate, crafted furniture. He built walls and huts? Jesus – the strong, dirty, dusty, brick layer. Just doesn’t have the same ring.

Dang paradigms. They’re so shifty. I’m still recovering from this revelation…

Monday, May 01, 2006

For my Mom on May Day

On May Day
when spring would push up the
crocuses and forsythia
with fresh air and expectation
we would sit on the hard bench
dad drilled into the wall
next to the kitchen table
and weave pink strips
of construction paper
into May Day

Our fumbling hands,
quick to tape uneven edges,
would meet a mother’s not a moment too late;
we’d fill our proud creations
with popcorn and brittle
Easter grass--
sometimes malted milk balls --
and run to the neighbors'
to place the gift at their doorstep,
dangerously ring the doorbell
and hide.

Such pleasure from gift giving;
and to think that we were secretly
being good.
Only a mother can know the casual ways
to trick her children
into accidental generosity,
into a sweet consciousness
of kindness
like this.

(c) 2006


I lost my voice this weekend, and dang, can I do a mean Janis Joplin, "Lord, Won't You Buy Me a Mercedes Benz."

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Global Night Commute

This Saturday night is the Invisible Children's Global Night Commute. People all over the country are walking to a centralized location in their city to raise awareness of the dire situation in Northern Uganda. Should be interesting. I'm imagining a hippie commune without the drugs and hemp. People hanging out in a park doing artwork? The 3 guys who founded this project are going to be on Oprah today talking about it.

Here's the list of the people who have already signed up. To join, sign up here.

John Marshall Park, 7:00 pm
Pennsylvania Avenue and C St., N.W. Washington, D.C.
Between the United States Courthouse and the Canadian Embassy

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

A Bitter Prostitute?

The Hebrew origin:
So my co-worker today informs me that my name comes from a Hebrew word meaning "Bitter." First, I think, I wonder why he knows this fact? Then I think, Bitter, hey? Far better than being named "sweetness."

The Irish origin:
Molly is apparently a hypocoristic form of Mary; and is either a general name for a prostitute (as John is to their customers), or could be a reference to Mary Magdalene--historically believed to have been a prostitute. The gangster's moll arose because prostitutes were typical of the woman that criminals used to hang out with. Now that I think about it, my friend Stolie used to call me Moll Flanders after a prostitute by the same name in the novel by Daniel DeFoe.

Though I don't know how I feel about my name being associated with women of ill repute, I am pretty excited to find that it could have some connection to Mary Magdalene. If I could go back in history and take the place of one historical figure, it would be her. Oh, but to have been there in person…

“Perhaps it is no wonder that the women were first at the Cradle and last at the Cross. They had never known a man like this Man – there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronized; who never made arch jokes about them, never treated them either as “The women, God help us!” or ‘The ladies, God bless them!’; who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension’; who took their questions and arguments seriously; who never mapped out their sphere for them, never urged them to be feminine or jeered at them for being female; who had no axe to grind and no uneasy male to defend; who took them as he found them and was completely unself-conscious.” (Dorothy Sayer: 100 Christian Women Who Changed the 20th Century)

Casting Stones

Jesus loved the little children
as he watched them skipping stones
into the Sea of Galilee.
Perhaps he saw the way they came
into his Kingdom- an easy dance
without demands of proof;
no squint-eyed
calculations taken just before the leap.


by Kristen McCarty

Monday, April 17, 2006

"I would rather fail in a cause I know must someday triumph than succeed in a cause I know must someday fail." ~Wilkie

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Josh Ritter's new album

The Animal Years
(listen to the whole thing here)

I've got a girl in the war
Paul, her eyes are like champagne
they sparkle, bubble over
and in the morning all you've got is the rain.

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