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Kevin Allison
Hey folks, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison and every Thursday we release these special episodes where we look back at content from our earlier years. This week we feature one of those episodes that people refer back to all the time. I still get emails from folks who have found this one way back in our archives. To be honest, I myself have not listened back to this episode since we first ran it in November of 2012, so I hope it holds up. At that point in Risk's history, I had pretty much only shared funny or kinky stories on the show before I was 42 then and I'm now 54 and I feel even more so than ever before that my being raised devoutly Catholic did me more harm than good. But you will hear that I definitely got some good out of it all too in this episode. See how you feel about it from 12 years ago. It's an episode we call the God Problem.
Musical Guest
Extra Risk Wa.
Kevin Allison
Hello kids, this is Extra Risk where we give you just a little bit more of the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison, this is Ramona Falls behind me now. And if you don't already know, regular Risk episodes have about three to five stories. These extra ones have one or two. And for this one we're going to do something we've never done before. If you know the show, you probably already know that every now and then I like to do one of these long form radio style stories like Kevin Goes to P Town or Beyond Kink Camp. Well, today we wanted to present one of these, but realized that it actually has a lot of echoes and is kind of like the sequel to another story that I told recently at the Risk Live show in New York. And so on this episode we'll feature two stories by me, one told live. Then we'll transition into a radio story. So let's not waste time, let's get right to it and go to the Risk Live show in New York with this first one that we call the Miracle Worker. I'm gonna start us off with a story tonight. This is not an S and M story but there is a nun in it. So close. When I was a kid, I liked to pretend that I was being crucified. It was one of my favorite things. I would lock the door to the basement, jump down the stairs, turn Jesus Christ Superstar on, hit the floor, and start into the writhing. I'd say, God, forgive them.
They know not what they do.
See, we were a Catholic family in a big way, the Allisons. And I just loved all that Catholic expression, you know, like the legends of the saints and the pictures of Leonardo and Michelangelo and the chanting of the choir when the priest would send wafts of incense spiraling up to the altar's dome. But more than anything, I love the stories that came from the pulpit, because in those stories, Jesus was always so passionate. You know, he didn't just, like, do good deeds for people. He did them with such flair. See, I was a born theater kid, and, you know, I was a little young to be thinking about things like honoring my neighbor as their self. I just wanted to learn how to express my emotions. And that was a place that I saw it being done in the magical Catholic stories. So by about the sixth grade, I was inventing a lot of stories of my own, just walking around the house, imagining that, oh, maybe I healed some kid's broken arm at recess or raised the class guinea pig from the dead. And everyone at school would say, ah. And he did it with such flair, or some less homosexual way of saying that. Now one day I'm walking around imagining yet another miraculous talent that I had acquired. And on this particular day, it was. Suddenly I was able to ascend stairs, standing backwards and without moving my feet. You know, like, now, in retrospect, given some time to reflect, I do realize that that would look ridiculous and benefit humanity in no way whatsoever. But anyway, that was what I was zoned in on when I walked into my little sister Becca's room, and I saw this big new ring on her dresser there. And it had a big purple stone on it.
And I thought, oh, my God, that's an amethyst. It's my birthstone.
I've got to put that on now. I remember saying out loud before I put it on, I'm putting this on for no reason. But of course, it was because I wanted to see if it would feel weird in a kind of fun way, to be a boy putting on a girly thing. And it was. Was kind of weird. But here's the thing about Becca. She was my adversary, my little sister. She was just like a little mouse with blonde Pigtails. But if I pissed her off, she would hiss and claw me like a tiger. So I knew if she walks in and I'm wearing this thing, I'm never going to hear the end of it. So I start pulling the ring off, and it's not budging. And my finger was going red. So I took a ballpoint pen and I wedged it under there, but the pen exploded. So now there's, like, this black goo all over my finger. And I see that the top of my finger is turning purple. So I'm like, oh, God. Well, maybe something slippery would help. So I run down to the kitchen, and I start smearing palm olive all over it. But the ring still doesn't move. So now I'm just pacing around in a frenzy, and I'm thinking, oh, God, maybe. Maybe if I find something in the kitchen, it'll stop feeling like it's been all numbed up with Novocaine. And that's when Rebecca actually did walk in. But she didn't laugh at me because she could see the panic. She said, oh, my God. Use a knife. So I grabbed a steak knife, and I'm wedging that under there. The ring is not doing a goddamn thing. And now my finger is bleeding. So Rebecca says, oh, no, no, no. Use the knife sharpener. Well, we had this little, like, electric knife sharpener with, like, a sandstone on it. That's like a grindstone. So when it spins around, you put a knife on there and it goes. So I put the ring on there, and it went. But all it did was frighten me, and now the finger was turning gray. Well, Rebecca said, you've got to call Mom.
And I knew she was right.
Mom was at work, and the first thing I explained to her was I put this on for no reason. And she said, kevin, you could lose that finger. I'm coming home immediately to take you to the hospital. But before she hung up, she said, but wait. Did you pray?
Well, I hadn't.
Not officially. Not with focus and sincerity. So I hung up with mom, and I bowed my head, and I started to recite this line from a prayer. It was really the only line I remembered. It was from the memorare, which is a prayer about remembering. But I said it with all my might. I said, remember, O most gracious Virgin, that never was it known that anyone.
Who implored thy help was left unaided.
And I opened my eyes, and I went right back to the ring, and it came right off easily. And Rebecca and I looked at each.
Other, and we said, Whoa.
Well, a few weeks later, Sister Adriana made a big announcement on the PA System at my grade school. Now, this woman had a similar temperament to a lot of nuns, pretty much that of, like, say, Joseph Goebbels. So we were all ready for just the tirade of pure verbal sadism. But that's not exactly what came at us that day. Instead, she said, we're having an essay contest this month. There will be one winner per grade, and the subject is, what does Mary mean to me? Well, here was my chance to express myself. Here was my chance to, like, show a little bit of my own passion. So I ran home, I got a ballpoint pen and some loose leaf, and I started into writing. Now, the first thing I thought was, I can't say it was a ring because I'll never hear the end of it. So I wrote, I got my finger stuck in a very small hole, which gives a little bit of a mysterious edge to the story. And it also kind of foreshadows how I spend my weekends now. But the nuns loved it. Sister Adriana, she said, without explicitly stating it, your essay proves that the Virgin Mother herself interceded on your behalf. I want you to read that essay to the entire sixth grade from the pulpit at Mass. Well, now, that was only about 50 people, and I was just a kid reading an essay.
But I did it with relish.
And the contest, I won. Now, you might be wondering, did it ever cross my mind during this period that the most likely reason that ring came off was because it got loosened up a little bit after an entire half hour of prying and twisting and lubricating? Yes, that did occur to me. But to a Catholic theater kid, that's.
Just not as good a story.
Thank you.
We'll be right back.
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Kevin Allison
Hey folks, I want to tell you about a new podcast called Reflektor.
If you love Risk, you love true stories, right? And on each episode of Reflector, they really dive into some of the thorniest, messiest issues facing our society today, from addiction to election denial to what inspires people to commit violence. And they weave together a story that highlights the nuances and idiosyncrasies of our human nature.
On a recent episode, I was so.
Excited to see that they have my.
Friend Mike Pesca come on to talk.
About how and why politicians lie.
Well, some more than others.
So you can find this new podcast by searching for Reflektor right now on whatever app you're using to listen to.
Marc Jacobs Representative
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Kevin Allison
Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. With the price of just about everything going up during inflation, we thought we'd.
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Kevin Allison
The morning of my.
First day of high school, I sat.
In an auditorium with about 300 other freshman boys. There were going to be a lot of speeches from a lot of Jesuits.
And first, an older priest with beige.
Hair came striding out on stage. He had a kind of a JFK look about him, and he meant business.
He said, boys, we have a motto.
At St. Xavier High School, men. For others, what's most important to us.
Is that you learn who you are.
And what you can do with who you are to help anyone who could use it.
I felt like the Jesuits recharged my batteries that day because they were Catholic.
Like I was Catholic, but they seemed to be talking about it in a much more vital way than I'd heard before. As I Came to think of it, they were speaking Jesuit. See, in grade school, I cherished my religion. But when the nuns taught us that religion was about having a relationship with God, I couldn't really wrap my brain around that. To me, back then, being Catholic was like that warm, glowing feeling of singing Handel's Messiah with the choir at Christmas. Or this almost weightless sensation I remember having kneeling before our parish replica of Michelangelo's Pieta at Easter. I mean, I love being Catholic because I love the art, but the art was always about the same thing. These transcendent incidents.
You know, God would have his favorite.
Children, and one day he would bestow on one of them an epiphany or sometimes even just like a quick trip to the Twilight Zone. You know, like St. Margaret having great debates with dragons, or St. Denis pulling his head off of his neck for whatever purpose that served.
But, I mean, these people got to.
Step out of banal reality and experience extraordinariness. And the nuns taught us to call those moments religious experiences. Of course, the guy who got the ultimate religious experience was Christ in the crucifixion and the Resurrection. And I was especially obsessed with that story. This man endures pain and more pain and more pain until he's obliterated. Like when a rocket breaks the sound barrier and just vanishes into the stratosphere. And Sister Adriana said the cross was a portal to another realm, a place so remarkable, you can't even imagine it. And I remember being maybe nine and watching the rain trickling down my bedroom window one Saturday afternoon and just wondering, what were the thoughts that were going through his head when he was hanging up there? How did he feel when he expired? And then what was his experience? I mean, what was the change? Because of course he comes back. And when he does, he's something beyond human now. He's completely God. That's a religious experience. And I wanted one, too.
But as of that first day of high school, I had an opposing desire.
I had Father JFK in my head saying, kevin, make the change away from fantasy toward doing things as a man for others. And I did not. I just started fantasizing. I would. I pictured myself spoon feeding grandmas and teaching kids on crutches to walk again. And the worst part is, I'd even.
Daydream of ways I could be a little showy about it, just to make.
Sure some Jesuit would notice me doing these things. And then I could daydream about people.
Walking through the halls of Saintex saying.
That Kevin Allison, he's like a redhead St Francis. Meanwhile, there were weekly opportunities to do.
Community service through my school.
But I just stuck to the fantasy. Then at the end of junior year, Father JFK called me to his office. Now, I never actually met this man. I didn't even really know what his job was. But he impressed me again.
He spoke with just as much purpose.
As he had that first day. He said, kevin, I think you'd be a good candidate to go on our seven week summer trip to some of the most poverty stricken areas in Peru. I thought, wait, fuck, he's got the wrong Kevin. I mean, I knew of at least one Kevin who was huge in the community service program.
I mean, the only thing I was.
Known for at school was doing the musicals. But he said, I'll tell you, Kevin, you can look through a copy of Time magazine, see pictures of starving kids in some far off country, but what if you could open your own wallet and see a picture you took of some kid and say, well, now there's Miguel and I've done good things for him. I like that thought. I mean, it fit in well with my redhead St. Francis daydreams.
So it was the summer of 1987.
There were 16 kids and six adults. Now for the first maybe 10 days, the trip was kind of a bust. The politicians and donors to the Jesuits in Lima didn't want us to see the dark side. So they had us staying in a rectory with gardens and falling water.
This is what I actually wrote in my journal then.
I'm frustrated. Now that we're here, I want to see what I can do. There's people in serious need very nearby now. What can I do? So the Jesuits said, alright kids, plan B. We're gonna improvise.
We ended up taking a 20 hour.
Bus trip across the Peruvian desert to.
Get to this small town called arequipa.
And about 14 hours into this ride.
We stopped to get water.
There was a shack, mostly just random pieces of wood nailed together with nothing but the flat dirt ground surrounding it on all sides for miles and miles. But what stuck out was that a sign had been tacked on this structure that read Hawaii. It almost seemed like a joke, like it really meant, yeah, I got your desert oasis right here. So everyone, kids, Jesuits translators jumped off the bus and rushed to the shack ahead of me. And that's when I saw that other than the guy selling water in the shack, there was one other human being out there. This nomad, this filthy skeleton of a man in rags. I guess he was in his 20s, but he may as well have been 60. He seemed shell shocked to see us. He didn't seem aware that drool was stringing from his chin or that tears were tracing through the dirt on his cheeks, or that two vultures were circling over and over about 50ft above his head, just waiting. And he stared. He just stared with these milky eyes like the eyes of a stricken dog, desperate, you know, dying in the road. I was frozen when he looked at me, I looked away. And then my friend Steve, another kid on the trip, he came up behind me and said, that's God over there and he's staring at us. And part of me felt like rolling my eyes because I thought Steve was being showy. And then another.
Part of me was probably a little.
Envious that he had come up with such a, you know, good Jesuit kind of line. But part of me knew he was right. And Steve handed me a bottle of water. And I was about to say, what can we do? But the bus driver started shouting, vamonos, vamonos. And we were all jumping back on the bus. And then we were on our way again. The rest of the ride, I stared out the window, thinking, kevin, what did you do? I mean, if that guy wasn't in need, who is? You're a sad excuse for a redhead, St. Francis. Well, the Jesuits did a bang up job of finding us less comfortable accommodations in Arequipa. Our new retreat house was an abandoned prison. No electricity, very infrequent, and freezing cold water. And because of the way it felt, I came to call the little cot in my cell the saltine. But I was into this. I said, okay, Kevin, maybe living like a poor person will kick you in the ass and get you interacting with them. But that first night, as I was trying to drift off, I looked toward the doorway of my tiny room, and I saw a shadow there in the shape of a small man. And then those eyes, those milky eyes, staring. Of course, I knew I was just imagining things, so I turned and I looked out the window. But I could still feel those eyes behind me. I tried distracting myself, singing a song. And then I closed my eyes. But inside my eyelids, like he was right on top of me, I saw those eyes. I jumped out of bed. I started pacing the hallways. I never doubted that it was all in my head. Obviously, it was all in my head, but it wouldn't get out of my head.
So I went to the little room.
That they had designated as the chapel to maybe pray it away. Now, this room had been empty when we got there earlier that day, but now I found that there was one candle on one little table in the center of the room, and it was shining up on the goriest, screamingest crucifix I'd ever seen. And on the face of this butchered little figure were those eyes. If only this was a daydream. I remembered what this atheist kid said in religion class one day at school.
He said most of those saints, when they were having their religious experiences, they.
Were really just people whose own brains turned against them. They were really just going insane. Well, maybe so. I mean, those religious experiences, there's not a lot of evidence on the ground. They happen in the mind or someplace you can't even pinpoint.
So you walk away wondering, am I.
Really making solid sense out of what actually is, or am I just telling stories? Then I noticed someone had left a yellow legal pad and a pen in a corner of the chapel. So I sat down on the concrete with that horrific crucifix glowing above, and I wrote at the top of the page, man at Hawaii. And then a poem addressed to this man just gushed out of me.
Ryan Reynolds
Man at Hawaii. What of me gives you to be? Who in me gives you to dance in my nightmares? To breathe in my ear, chilled depth? Are these my hands that strangle and push your repulse?
Kevin Allison
I mean, the pen never left the page.
No revisions, just a torrent about how.
I would rather drive nails through his.
Hands and dig thorns into his forehead.
And stab a spear into his side.
Than to have to keep seeing his eyes in my brain. And it was a rush. It was like rapture, the writing, almost like I was floating on air.
Of course, you know, it was filled.
With the melodrama that comes with the author being 17. And of course, some part of me hoped it meant. Now I've had experience, I can show great art to the world. But also in my heart, it was a prayer. I was admitting to God, or at least to myself, that I just wasn't what I hoped to be. I am not what I hope to be, and I probably never will be. In the last few lines, I predicted even more. Failing to live up to my ideals.
I pictured what it would be like to return to Ohio.
And I wrote, and when I am there, home and warm, I will not be seeing you, only comfortably killing you thousands of miles away.
Well, the rest of the trip went as planned.
We got the ball rolling on the building of a school for the kids on the outskirts of the city. And I did come home with pictures of those kids in my wallet. I don't know how much of a difference I made in any one of their lives, but I remember them anyway. I shared that poem with my friends on the trip. And a few months later, in my senior year, a copy of it made its way to the desk of Father jfk. So he called me into his office again. He said, kevin, you know what next Thursday is? I did not. He said, we'll celebrate a mass for the feast of St. Francis Xavier in the gym, the student body, the faculty, all 1300 of us. I want you to give a speech during the service. I want you to read that poem and tell the story. I felt electrified. I thought, okay, I'll show him. I know how to speak Jesuit now. I'm gonna Martin Luther King this thing. And I did. I mean, I gave it my everything.
I still have these old cassette recordings of me rehearsing the speech.
Ryan Reynolds
Sometimes I feel that wholeheartedly talking to God is something I have to get psyched up for. It's as if my faith is only a mood I'm sometimes in. An occasional inspiration. I think I may never stop seeing those eyes. Everything I was wrestling with in Peru seemed to be in those eyes. If, perhaps, while I read this poem, you found somewhere in your imagination the faintest image of those eyes, I'd like to remind you that's God, and he's staring at you. As I stand here today and look up at these 1300 or so pairs of eyes, I can say that also is God, and he's still staring at me.
Kevin Allison
You could certainly say my performance was showy. I mean, sometimes it was downright Shakespearean, just like the poem. It had all the melodrama that comes from the author being 17, but my heart was in it.
And from those 1300 people came a.
Standing ovation in the middle of a mass. And the rest of the day, people I'd never spoken to before, jocks, goth guys, people I was scared of, they kept stopping me to say, hey, man, that was a hell of a speech. Well, that night at home, I was doing the dishes in the kitchen, and I was still kind of hearing the applause in my head. And at one point, I turned and I looked out the window of the kitchen door, and there he was with those eyes. Of course, it was all just in my head again, you know, my brain turning against me. But this time, I felt like I could hear what he wanted to say. He was saying, you think you've done something. Telling stories about how for me, you did nothing. And he was there that night when I was trying to get to sleep again. And I started pushing him out of my mind all over again. But a couple months later, I ran into Father JFK in the hallways at school. He said, congratulations, Kevin. And I thought, oh, what praise am I going to get now that I'm not sure I completely deserve? But he said, this year we had five times as many applicants for the Peru retreat and seven times as many applicants for the Appalachian retreat. And at Jesuit schools in Chicago, Indianapolis, and New York, where we sent copies of your speech, they saw increases in applicants for mission retreats to. And the one thing damn near every boy said in his application was that he knew he had to do something because of your speech. It was too much for me to process. But then he said, see, this is what we mean. When you told that story, you were a man for others. And I thought, okay, then. That I can do.
Musical Guest
Under a blue moon I saw you so soon you'll take me up in your arms Too late to beg you I'll cancel it Though I know it must be the killing time Unwillingly mine faith up against your wind through the thickest thing he will wait on 10 hills you give yourself to him.
Kevin Allison
In.
Musical Guest
Solid heights I saw you so cruelly you kissed me youe lips, magic were good, you started soon will come too soon fade up against your windmill through the thick and thin he will wait until you give yourself to him Run.
Kevin Allison
Well, that is that.
We call that second story man at Hawaii.
This is a mashup behind me now by Lee DM101. It is, of course, Florence and the Machine mashed up with Echo and the.
Bunnyman, a band that was very important to us back in those high school years.
Hey, there was no sex in those stories. What do you think of that? But if you were Jones at Fort, you can always go back and listen.
Again to Kevin goes to Kink Camp.
And let us know what you think of our episodes at the comment section at itunes. You can follow us on Twitter and Facebook riskshow. You can follow me on Twitter hekevinallison at our school thestorystudio.org you can do one on one coaching with me over Skype from anywhere in the world. Just go to the story studio.org folks, today's the day. Take a risk. I guess I kind of feel like the judge.
Fuck me out there.
Fuck me, fuck me. Hey, folks, there's so much more of.
Risk in the holiday season. Risk is always publishing new episodes and.
New stories as well as holiday favorites.
This holiday season, don't forget, click on Risk.
Podcast Summary: RISK! Episode "The God Problem"
Introduction
In the "The God Problem" episode of RISK!, host Kevin Allison delves deep into his personal journey with faith, exploring the profound impact of his devout Catholic upbringing. Released on November 14, 2024, this episode marks a reflective milestone for Allison, who revisits content from his earlier years to shed light on how his religious experiences have shaped his life and worldview.
1. Revisiting "The God Problem"
Kevin Allison begins the episode by introducing "The God Problem," an episode from RISK!'s archives that has resonated with many listeners over the years. Reflecting on his age and personal growth—from sharing primarily humorous and edgy stories before age 42 to now presenting more introspective narratives at 54—Allison sets the stage for a candid exploration of his faith and its complexities.
Notable Quote:
2. Story One: "The Miracle Worker"
Allison recounts a childhood incident that underscores his early relationship with faith and the miraculous. As a young boy enthralled by Catholic rituals and stories, he imagines performing miracles himself. This imaginative play leads to a real-life crisis when he accidentally gets a ring stuck on his finger.
The Incident:
Locking himself in the basement to mimic a crucifixion reenactment, Allison decides to put on his sister Becca's amethyst ring—a gesture driven by both curiosity and a desire to challenge gender norms. However, the ring proves impossible to remove, leading to desperation and panic.
Attempts to Remove the Ring:
Prayer and Resolution:
Miraculously, the ring comes off easily after his prayer, leaving Allison and his sister in awe.
Aftermath and Reflection:
Notable Quote:
Allison reflects on whether the event was a genuine miracle or merely a result of mechanical loosening, ultimately choosing to embrace the narrative of divine intervention in his formative years.
3. Story Two: "Man at Hawaii"
Transitioning to his high school years, Allison shares his experiences during a Jesuit-sponsored mission trip to Peru. This journey becomes a pivotal moment in his understanding of faith, purpose, and personal identity.
The Peru Mission Trip:
Encounter with the "Man at Hawaii":
There, Allison meets a destitute man whose piercing gaze and dire condition leave a lasting impression. This encounter ignites a tumultuous internal struggle, blending his religious beliefs with personal doubts and fears.
Creative Expression as Coping:
Excerpt from the Poem:
Man at Hawaii. What of me gives you to be?
Who in me gives you to dance in my nightmares?
To breathe in my ear, chilled depth?
Are these my hands that strangle and push your repulse?
Sharing the Poem:
Impact and Realization:
Notable Quote:
This experience marks a transformative moment for Allison, reinforcing his role in inspiring others despite his lingering self-doubts.
4. Reflections and Conclusions
Throughout "The God Problem," Kevin Allison intertwines personal anecdotes with broader reflections on faith, purpose, and the human condition. His stories illustrate the tension between childhood beliefs and adult understandings, highlighting how pivotal moments and creative expressions shape one's spiritual and emotional landscape.
Allison's narratives reveal a journey of self-discovery, grappling with the expectations of faith, the desire to make meaningful contributions, and the ever-present questioning of one's actions and beliefs. Through humor, vulnerability, and introspection, he invites listeners to contemplate their own experiences with faith and the risks involved in sharing deeply personal stories.
Final Reflection:
Allison concludes by emphasizing the ongoing nature of his journey, encouraging listeners to continue exploring and sharing their own stories of risk and faith.
Conclusion
"The God Problem" serves as a profound exploration of Kevin Allison's relationship with faith, illustrating how personal experiences and storytelling can bridge the gap between skepticism and belief. By sharing his struggles and triumphs, Allison not only provides insight into his own life but also resonates with listeners navigating their own spiritual paths.