{"id":3932,"date":"2008-08-13T11:50:14","date_gmt":"2008-08-13T17:50:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/?p=3932"},"modified":"2013-06-11T07:43:31","modified_gmt":"2013-06-11T13:43:31","slug":"soul-graffiti-experiments-in-truth","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/soul-graffiti-experiments-in-truth\/","title":{"rendered":"Soul Graffiti :: Experiments in Truth"},"content":{"rendered":"

Just listened to this story again via the Church Basement Roadshow<\/a>. It’s a great reminder of those we’re called to serve and love.<\/p>\n

Take some time to read it, or enjoy Mark’s reading of it via the Church Basement Roadshow.<\/p>\n

Love those who least expect it and love those who least deserve it.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

SOUL GRAFFITI
\nChapter Four: Experiments in Truth<\/strong>
\nBy Mark Scandrette<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

It is bittersweet to recall the first few years that our family lived in San Francisco. We had moved to the city with a dream: to form a community of people who would take Jesus seriously as the teacher and revolutionary he intended to be. Our new neighbors and acquaintances were quick to point out that people who called themselves \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Christians\u00e2\u20ac\u009d were responsible for the inquisitions, religious wars, and homophobia\u00e2\u20ac\u201dnot to mention the historic use of scripture to justify slavery, the massacre of native peoples, aggressive foreign policy, and the destruction of the Earth\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s resources. I had to agree that there was tremendous dissonance between the dominant reputation of Christianity and the life of Christ and the early church. We desperately wanted to be people who embodied the revolution of the kingdom of love\u00e2\u20ac\u201doffering an apologetic for the authenticity of the Way of Jesus as an alternative to mainstream Christianity.
\n
\nA small group of us began meeting together to study the gospel accounts and the documents of the early church. We were drawn to the communal nature of the primitive church and the power, solidarity, and compassion followers of Jesus exhibited under persecution during the Roman Empire. Our faith community, which at the time we called a house church, attracted zealous idealists as well as people who had been hurt or marginalized through their experiences with organized religion. For a while we felt criticized and misunderstood, both by the culture and by the mainstream church. It took some time to move beyond critical deconstruction\u00e2\u20ac\u201dto define ourselves more by what we were for than what we were against.<\/p>\n

Gradually we learned to channel our group energy toward experimenting with how to imitate the path of Jesus and the early disciples. Some things we took quite literally. We tried fasting and praying for forty days. I grew a beard and long hair. We began living communally. And we hosted parties for neighbors and offered hospitality and friendship to people battling addictions, personality disorders, and depression. It was, in retrospect, a fertile and chaotic period for our family. We were being formed through these experiences with great intensity. One thing we try to preserve from that time is a sense of humility and risk taking.<\/p>\n

We found that one of the best ways for our group to learn the Way of Jesus was by trying to imitate his example through some tangible exercise or activity. Mahatma Gandhi described this kind of intentional pursuit as an \u00e2\u20ac\u0153experiment in truth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Experiments are always successful on some level, because by taking a risk you learn both from your failures and accomplishments. And there is a depth of understanding that can only be achieved through conscious activity.<\/p>\n

It is my hope with this book not only to explore ideas about making a life in the Way of Jesus, but also to share some of our family and community \u00e2\u20ac\u0153experiments in truth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Emperor Arcadia<\/p>\n

After reading about the kind of companion Jesus was, and knowing what he taught about love for neighbors, my friend Joseph and I decided to try some experiments in radical openness to people. We began by making a daily practice of picking up trash on our block. In the evenings, along with my kids, we walked around the block with trash sticks and plastic bags greeting neighbors and collecting debris. The sidewalks in our neighborhood were notoriously dirty, strewn with household garbage, old couches, bed frames, and broken TVs. People\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s reactions to our nightly trash walks varied. One person offered us cold beers. Another asked us to pray for his family. One neighbor thanked us for our kindness and another cussed us out because he thought our clean-up was a manifestation of privilege and gentrification. What we hoped would be a sign of neighborly affection was interpreted ambiguously.<\/p>\n

After a few months of picking up garbage we prayed that God would bring someone into our path that we could care for more deeply. Riding the bus home from work one night, Joseph met an elderly man who seemed lonely and in need of a friend. He invited Joseph to visit and the next day Joseph took me along to see him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Come on in, boys. Will you smoke a joint with me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the old man said as Joseph and I climbed the steps of the rusty old school bus, searching for a place to sit. The bus, parked in a vacant lot on Portrero Hill, was painted in bold letters that read: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I HAVE BEEN CONDUCTING EXPERIMENTS ON MYSELF FOR 30 YEARS\u00e2\u20ac\u201dEXPLORING THE MYSTERIES OF CHEMISTRY AND HEALTH. MY PRESCRIPTION: EAT A CLOVE OF GARLIC AND DRINK YOUR OWN URINE AND SEMEN TWICE A DAY.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Joseph and I glanced at each other and wondered what we were getting ourselves into. Shaking my hand, the small old man, wearing a black evening gown, took a bow saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You may call me Emperor Arcadia.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Seated again, his arthritic hands struggled to roll a joint while he spoke. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been taking speed for thirty years, medicating myself. The combination of speed and special topical chemicals is curing me of all human diseases.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d As he continued we stole glances around the crowded old bus containing soiled clothes, salvaged computer monitors, and buckets of urine. A mix of curious smells strained my nose for recognition.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The government has lied to us! It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a conspiracy to exterminate the planet! If I were in charge I would burn all the money and declare the planet monetary and class free. We will all be equal and wealthy.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I attempted to break into his monologue with a question: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor, how long have you lived in San Francisco?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\nHe quickly replied, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Too long. Do you have an estate in the country where you would like me to be the caretaker?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I tried again: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How old are you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He quickly answered, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not old, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m as young as they come.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I persisted, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Where did you grow up?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Grow up? I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t grown up. . . .\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He then returned to his speech, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Boys, I advise you to drink your own urine twice a day, those golden showers will cure what ails ya.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d When he could sense that we were only listening to be polite, he became defensive, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I can see you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe me. But you had better. I am a messenger from God.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Joseph spoke up, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What a coincidence. We are also followers of God\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s messenger, Jesus.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d That was the wrong thing to say, for the emperor grew agitated and exclaimed, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m #$%! Jesus Christ, the G\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u201dn messiah, Jesus isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t coming back so you had better listen to me! If you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe me, then get out my bus!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

We groped for a diplomatic way to end our visit. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It was good to meet you, Emperor!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, as we exited the bus, befuddled by this strange encounter.<\/p>\n

I turned to Joseph. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, I guess that attempt to be intentional about having relationships with people on the margins failed,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make someone be our friend,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Joseph said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153if they don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want a relationship.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

A few months later I ran into the emperor at the plaza downtown. Slumped over, sunburned and haggard and sitting in a wheelchair, he was hardly recognizable. Yet he was dressed impeccably, decked out in a costume crown and bright gold jewelry, wielding a royal amulet in his jittering hand. When I greeted him, he smiled, saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing better than ever, can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you see? I was just going to get something to eat, would you like to join me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Recalling our first encounter, I was taken aback by his friendliness. He insisted on buying me a strawberry shake. As he went up to pay, several tablets of methamphetamines fell out of his wallet onto the counter. Sitting in a booth across from me, he repeated, verbatim, the monologue from our first visit. I looked at him intently\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhis hands brown with filth, dirt caught in the creases of his worn skin. That mouth!\u00e2\u20ac\u201dgrotesque, toothless, and rotting, wildly chomping chicken sandwich. My stomach turned. Sputtering incoherently now, he was desperately trying to get through to me, as his spit and chicken sandwich landed on my face. I stared into his hazel green eyes, wondering what he was thinking and feeling inside. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor Arcadia, what has it been like living by yourself in that bus all these years?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He paused dramatically. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It feels . . . lonely sometimes.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I pressed for more. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you do when you are lonely?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Subdued for a moment, he answered, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I lock myself in my bus for three or four days, or come down to this corner.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d And then he quickly changed the subject. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I need to get a shower. . . Hey! Look at him, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like to have him on a chain to dominate. . . .\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\nI racked my conflicted brain and heart to understand. I wondered, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Am I wasting my time with this man, or is he teaching me something about the compassion of Jesus?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d When I told Joseph about my encounter with the emperor, we debated about engaging him further. We had previously written him off because we didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t see much hope for change in his life. He also didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make us feel rewarded for our efforts. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is an act of love only significant because of the change it produces? Or, can the meaning be in the act itself?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I pondered aloud. It seemed like God had brought the emperor back into our lives. While Joseph and I were discussing what to do, we thought of Jesus\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 teachings about giving to others without expecting anything in return and the fact that God is kind, even to the ungrateful (Luke 6:35). We realized that, as followers of the Way, we were being invited to love the emperor despite his prickly hostility and highly unusual personal habits.<\/p>\n

A few days later Joseph and I stopped by the emperor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bus. More sedated, he expressed that he was glad to see us, and explained that he had just completed one of his \u00e2\u20ac\u0153cycles of treatment,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d which involved covering his entire body with menthol vapor rub followed by petroleum jelly, then taking a hit of methamphetamines. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We all have these bugs living in our bodies that are killing us. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m slowly sweating them out,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This treatment forces the bugs from deep within the body to surface where they drown.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He explained how he then washes in a solution of vinegar, bleach, dish soap, and urine. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The whole process takes three days. Look at how young and fresh my skin looks now. Pretty good for being sixty-three years old.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor, is there anything we can do for you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m hungry and I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t eaten for days. My legs aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t working too good so I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get to the store.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Handing us some money, he asked us to buy him an Italian sausage sandwich. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Make sure you get it with mayonnaise and provolone cheese\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand buy yourselves sandwiches with my money too. They are very delicious.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

As we ate the sandwiches together, two young men approached the bus. Dressed in leather pants and jackets, with their faces covered in sores and their hands black with grease, they looked like survivors of a nuclear holocaust. He handed these men, his drug suppliers, a wad of cash. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Keep the change, honey, for a personal favor I might ask of you later,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said with a wink.<\/p>\n

Along with other friends from our community we began visiting the emperor several times a week, bringing groceries, helping cut his hair or clip his toe nails, and cleaning up around his camp. Gradually he began to trust our friendship and revealed more about himself. His real name was Robert. Estranged from his family after years in mental institutions, he had moved west from Wisconsin. During the sexual revolution of the 1970s he was something of a celebrity in San Francisco\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gay club scene, hosting \u00e2\u20ac\u0153naked pool\u00e2\u20ac\u009d on Sunday afternoons at a popular bar South of Market where he would prance nude around the pool table exchanging fiery jabs with patrons. The club owner let him live in the basement of the building for many years. We learned that Emperor Arcadia was locally famous for crashing society balls, civic celebrations and parades, announcing himself, swathed in a velvet cape and crown, accompanied by his matching miniature poodles on leashes. As he got older and more peculiar, he lost his social currency and became more isolated.<\/p>\n

The emperor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s health continued to deteriorate and by December he was confined to a wheelchair. In addition to this trouble, the owner of the property where he was squatting was taking legal action to have him removed. We advocated for the emperor with the health department and social services and pleaded with him to move into an assisted living facility. He pessimistically predicted that the apocalypse would come by the first of the year. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to kill myself on New Year\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Eve,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he told us, by mixing vodka with a fatal dose of Phenobarbital.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I would be really sad if you chose to kill yourself,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I told him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why should you care if I live or die?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked indignantly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor, you are valuable to God and to the people who love you. We would miss you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nobody has ever cared about me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he replied bitterly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m really sorry you feel that way. After all the time we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve spent together the past few months, I hoped that you might consider Joseph and me your friends.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

. . .<\/p>\n

At Christmas we decided to throw a party for the emperor, including his favorite foods and a birthday cake. I told him that I was going to bring my family along, so he would need to be on his best behavior. We could never predict what the emperor would say or do.<\/p>\n

There was a full moon on that December evening when I knocked at the door to the emperor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bus. He came out wearing an elegant purple bonnet, with freshly painted fingernails. A thin young woman, who we knew worked as a prostitute, lived in a trailer on the street nearby, joined us, along with one of her \u00e2\u20ac\u0153clients.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d We ate by candlelight serenaded by music from a transistor radio. The emperor declared that the food was delicious, a collection of favorite dishes he requested. After dinner my wife Lisa put candles on a cake. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sing happy birthday to someone who hasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t celebrated their birthday in awhile,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Who could we sing happy birthday to?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Just then, beaming, our three-year-old son Noah blurted, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Christmas, lets sing happy birthday to Jesus!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I panicked. The name Jesus was the worst thing I could imagine mentioning in front of the emperor, and I waited to see how he would react. Slowly, with a big toothless grin, he said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sing happy birthday to Jesus.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Under a clear and starry night the eight of us sang together\u00e2\u20ac\u201dLisa and me, a streetwalker and her john, a sixty-three-year-old transvestite, and three small blond children with red cheeks. As I helped the emperor back into his bus, he turned to me and said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This was the best night of my life. Thank you!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

. . .<\/p>\n

We told the emperor that the following Sunday we would stop by with some friends to help move the bus and his belongings off the property to comply with the owner\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s injunction. When we arrived Sunday morning Joseph and I knocked at the door of the bus. There was no response, but we heard a faint groaning from inside. We broke down the door and found the emperor collapsed on the floor, lying in a pool of his own waste. He tried to talk, and through his slurred speech, I deciphered that he wanted water. We sat him up, though he was semiconscious and weak, and gave him a drink. As we began to change his clothes and wash his body, what had happened slowly dawned on us\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhe had taken the Phenobarbital as planned. Searching quickly we found a few of the tablets scattered across the floor by a bottle of vodka. The rest of our group had just arrived when we called for an ambulance.<\/p>\n

As the paramedics lifted him onto the gurney he pleaded for me to stay beside him. I rode along to the hospital in the back of the ambulance holding his hand.<\/p>\n

At the emergency room after he was stabilized a nurse invited me into the examining room where I stood alone by his side. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Mark.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d With his eyes still shut he murmured, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wanted to die. Why did you save my life?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I hesitated for a moment searching for words. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You are my friend and I care about you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Agitated, with speech still slurred he asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But why do you care about me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d And then louder and more desperately he repeated, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why do you care about me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Slowly I lifted my hand and began to caress his bald head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Emperor, we are all loved,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said. Then I heard him snoring and watched his chest rise and fall with each belabored breath.<\/p>\n

I stood there for a long time, praying, and thinking about this man who felt so isolated and lonely that it was impossible for him to imagine that anyone would care. Perhaps he was a living caricature of the feelings we all share\u00e2\u20ac\u201ddoubts about our worth.<\/p>\n

When Joseph and I arrived at the hospital the next day he was wide awake and smiling. With hugs he greeted us like long-lost sons. He quickly handed Joseph some money and told him to go out and buy each of us a prime rib dinner to eat together. The hospital psychologist was anxious to meet me and discretely invited me into her office. I held the keys to his bus and kept all his legal and personal papers and gave her as much of his life story as I had pieced together through our conversations. As I shared what I knew I had the strange realization that, although I had only known the emperor for six months, I was closer to him now than anyone else alive.<\/p>\n

After the interview the doctor curiously asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What exactly is your role in the neighborhood?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I explained that Joseph and I were part of a small church community trying to imitate the example of Jesus by making friends with lonely people. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That sounds like the kind of church I would love to join,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she replied.<\/p>\n

. . .<\/p>\n

Even now as I retell this story I am drawn back into the sights and smells and complicated emotions I felt during that time. I realize there is unique absurdity to the characters and situation\u00e2\u20ac\u201dtwo idealistic young men and their experiment in friendship with an eccentric old man with a death wish. By telling this story I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not suggesting that everyone could or should make friends with someone like the emperor. What I do know is that I feel alive when I am testing the limits of my own boundaries\u00e2\u20ac\u201c finding a source of love that is greater than my own and discovering beauty in unexpected places.<\/p>\n

Conversation<\/p>\n

Credibility. What kind of reputation does the Way of Jesus have with the people in your community? How might this be changed or improved by people who take Jesus more seriously as an example and guide?<\/p>\n

An Experiment in Friendship. What were your feelings or thoughts as you read about the emperor? What did the details and ambiguities of the story provoke in you?<\/p>\n

Experiments<\/p>\n

Be open to the peculiar. There is likely someone in the periphery of your relationships who is lonely or peculiar. Quite often the public services and support offered to people living with mental illness are inadequate. In the gospels these kinds of people were often drawn toward encounters with Jesus and his disciples. Go out of your way to cultivate a friendship with such a person\u00e2\u20ac\u201din partnership with a friend who can help you navigate the relationship.<\/p>\n

Teach a child to care. You may wonder if it is safe for children to be around unstable or addicted people. If there is adequate guidance and supervision it can be helpful to introduce children to the more sobering realities of our society\u00e2\u20ac\u201c and they may be less likely to have an unhealthy fascination with illicit activities if they learn to care about people in those circumstances. Take a child with you to visit a shelter, prison, soup kitchen or assisted living facility. Kids learn to be compassionate by watching their parents and elders care for the needs of others. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Just listened to this story again via the Church Basement Roadshow. It’s a great reminder of those we’re called to serve and love. Take some time to read it, or enjoy Mark’s reading of it via the Church Basement Roadshow. Love those who least expect it and love those who least deserve it. SOUL GRAFFITI … Continue reading Soul Graffiti :: Experiments in Truth<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":84,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[31,18,19],"tags":[1384,1387,1385,1386],"class_list":["post-3932","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-club","category-faith","category-reflections","tag-church-basement-roadshow","tag-experiments-in-truth","tag-mark-scandrette","tag-soul-graffiti"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pEnSo-11q","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3932","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/84"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3932"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3932\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11159,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3932\/revisions\/11159"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3932"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3932"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/casadeblundell.com\/jonathan\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3932"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}