There is a bizarre understanding of Jesus's message I think. I don't think I am here to solve the problem....in fact if my hypothesis is correct I can't solve it, but I hope I shed light on something I believe to be a problem.
One way Jesus described himself was as a doctor here to help the sick. He also explained to the Pharisees (who didn't see themselves as sick) that if you weren't sick you didn't need a doctor so he wasn't here to help them.
The irony is that we are sick. All of us....even the Pharisees.
There is this bizarre notion that if we accept Christ that we are no longer sick. Treating him as the medicine instead of the doctor. When you go to the doctor he doesn't say "You look pretty sick, but now that you've seen me you're all better!" In fact, if you had a doctor like that I bet he would get fired pretty quick.
Seeing the doctor is what leads you to feeling better because the doctor gives you medicine. The doctor bandages wounds. The doctor gives you new behavior to alter the way you currently are. And no one would stop going to the doctor. When new ailments arrived they would return and seek his counsel and medicine.
With God, the medicine is His grace and continuing to return is exactly what we need. He prescribes weekly check ups.
However, some people are confused. They think after seeing the doctor once, they are not only cured, but they are now the doctor. I bet this happens with real doctors too. After the patient see the doctor, they start talking about how they were cured and recommend it to their friends as if they were the doctor instead of saying "Let me recommend my physician to you." No two people are alike so what works for one doesn't work for the other.
This happens with Christianity. Some people, even though they profess to view themselves as sinners, view themselves as fully cured of sin. They are now righteous and therefore fit to judge. The Bible frequently talks about not being judgmental simply because we aren't fit to judge people. We can't full know their hearts. Yet we act as if we did. How did this happen?
The same way your sick friend thinks that they are cured and now the doctor. "It worked for me, give it a shot!" And while they do recommend the physician, they recommend the treatment the physician gave them as well. And if you don't use the same treatment....you are doing it wrong.
Computers are another good example. I fix computers for a living and I'm pretty good at it. I can fix most minor and some major computer problems. A lot of my adult users attempt to solve their problems without contacting me first. Then by the time they need me, I have an even bigger set of problems on my hand than I did before. If they had stopped when they needed to and said "I need help" I could've solved it for them very quickly.
My students (especially the young ones) never ever act this way. They never say "Let me try and solve this with no help from the expert at all." They immediately freeze, raise their hand and ask for help. Usually, I can fix their problems in no time. But the more they try to fix it, the harder it is for me to fix it.
That's how we need to look at God. Not to call on him after we've messed everything up. Call on him at the first sign of trouble. When we don't know what to do we call in the Ultimate Expert.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
New is always now old is always beautiful
Recently, I've been taking pictures of anything that will hold still long enough. This is a new and exciting experience that I didn't understand before. I actually used to make excuses for NOT taking pictures. Now all the reasons I used to have seem odd and ludicrous to me.
But as I started to do things for the second or third time I started to panic. I was worried that the things that become ritual for me wouldn't be worth photographing. Like if you just repeated one quote over and over and over again for the rest of your life. Like a stuck record.
I was worried that the second time I went to Scum or Vegan Dinner or something like that that I wouldn't want to take pictures of people I had already seen or places I'd already been. If I already had pictures of them once, why do it twice? What's the point?
There is good news! It doesn't work that way!!! In fact, it works kind of the opposite for a few reasons. Here's why...
First of all, the days the Lord has made are full of surprises. Everything God does is a surprise (thank you Peter Kreeft). Every time you turn around or breath in or touch something or listen closely the World will seem slightly different than it did microseconds before. You don't have to take drugs or be drunk or try and be artistic at all!!! You just have to pay attention and then every second you're alive isn't like looking at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It's like watching Michaelangelo paint it!!!
The pictures help you remember. Before I had pictures routine was just routine because I omitted the details. I went to dinner with friends. I hung out with people. Now I can tell a vivid story so that no weekly ritual is ever ritualistic. It's fantastic. I remember the food I ate. I remember trying to fix the broken stereo with Aaron. I remember talking about kids' music with Jessi. I remember defending Georgia's honor with Cole and remembering Jaci has no rival. It isn't like last week at all and won't be like next week at all either. It's fantastic!
But this is the best part. This is my favorite. Because your memories are so vivid you anticipate the newness over and over again. And not like you anticipate coffee to get rid of the headache you will have later. Like a little kid who can't wait to get cotton candy at a fair and truly savor sugar spun into string! Getting bored of taking pictures? Might as well think that every time you meet a dear friend you'd say "Oh you again? I'm so bored with you." You never say that to an old friend. You embrace them and you both speak words of love to each other. And although you might never say it out loud what you mean is "I'm glad you're alive because you enrich my very existence."
It's a beautiful thing.
But as I started to do things for the second or third time I started to panic. I was worried that the things that become ritual for me wouldn't be worth photographing. Like if you just repeated one quote over and over and over again for the rest of your life. Like a stuck record.
I was worried that the second time I went to Scum or Vegan Dinner or something like that that I wouldn't want to take pictures of people I had already seen or places I'd already been. If I already had pictures of them once, why do it twice? What's the point?
There is good news! It doesn't work that way!!! In fact, it works kind of the opposite for a few reasons. Here's why...
First of all, the days the Lord has made are full of surprises. Everything God does is a surprise (thank you Peter Kreeft). Every time you turn around or breath in or touch something or listen closely the World will seem slightly different than it did microseconds before. You don't have to take drugs or be drunk or try and be artistic at all!!! You just have to pay attention and then every second you're alive isn't like looking at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It's like watching Michaelangelo paint it!!!
The pictures help you remember. Before I had pictures routine was just routine because I omitted the details. I went to dinner with friends. I hung out with people. Now I can tell a vivid story so that no weekly ritual is ever ritualistic. It's fantastic. I remember the food I ate. I remember trying to fix the broken stereo with Aaron. I remember talking about kids' music with Jessi. I remember defending Georgia's honor with Cole and remembering Jaci has no rival. It isn't like last week at all and won't be like next week at all either. It's fantastic!
But this is the best part. This is my favorite. Because your memories are so vivid you anticipate the newness over and over again. And not like you anticipate coffee to get rid of the headache you will have later. Like a little kid who can't wait to get cotton candy at a fair and truly savor sugar spun into string! Getting bored of taking pictures? Might as well think that every time you meet a dear friend you'd say "Oh you again? I'm so bored with you." You never say that to an old friend. You embrace them and you both speak words of love to each other. And although you might never say it out loud what you mean is "I'm glad you're alive because you enrich my very existence."
It's a beautiful thing.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
If I take a picture...
Very recently, I've started taking pictures. And not pictures in small volume. Anything that captures my attention....I take a picture of it. I worry that some people will not understand (or misunderstand) my motivation. Let me tell the story in case you want to hear.
In October, I lost my friend Nate. Even though we had been out of contact for a while, it was a total shock. I think one reason I had been out of contact is because Nate was reliable. I'd get back to Nate and we'd catch up. Probably hanging out with Robert or something like that. Good times. When Nate died it hit me (and is still hitting me) much harder than I realized.
At his funeral, I started collecting stories. Any story I heard I would commit to memory. I told Robert about this and he set up a blog and more or less said "Let's get posting". For those of us who knew Nate it was a wonderful way to remember all the weird stories and jokes he would tell. It also let us share our grief. Then, something horrible happened. I ran out of memories. As much as I wracked my brain trying to find one more memory lodged deep in the back of my brain, I couldn't find one. A lot of people have stories, but are reluctant to share for one reason or another.
While I was home over Christmas I mentioned my horrible camera was out of commission and my Dad gave me a new one. Not new new, but new to me. I didn't think much of it at the time. To me a camera was a useful tool.
As far as talking to God (praying) I do that a lot these days. As far as God talking back, I can only think of two times when I've felt that through and through 100%. I'm starting to think that maybe this was a time and I just didn't catch on. I felt as if God was saying "Take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures." I was confused. Why should I take pictures? What for? What useful purpose would this serve? But I had the camera and I felt it more prudent to test this possible message from God than ignore it.
Starting on New Year's Eve I started taking pictures. Tons of pictures. Pictures of anything that would sit still long enough to be photographed. And I get it now. It helps you remember. When you take a picture you're capturing a small moment of time. Eternity or now (whichever it is) is frozen and you have that moment for later. It's a beautiful thing. Like time travelling.
So....this leads me to why I'm writing this. Why am I taking your picture? Because I don't want to forget you. I've allowed so many people to come and go in my life and I have totally forgotten every detail about them. It's not that I have no memory.....I didn't try. And I don't think you look terrible....I think you look beautiful. You are frozen in time in a moment of the fluid human experience that is a gift from the Divine.
So if I tag you in a Facebook picture and you wish to de-tag it....go ahead. But I was just trying to hang on to a fleeting moment. To remember you. To remember all the beautiful things in this World before the tide of time drags you out to sea where I can't get it again. In essence, to remember you and the beauty of you.
I'm sorry I don't have more photographs of Nate. I'm not going to let that happen again.
In October, I lost my friend Nate. Even though we had been out of contact for a while, it was a total shock. I think one reason I had been out of contact is because Nate was reliable. I'd get back to Nate and we'd catch up. Probably hanging out with Robert or something like that. Good times. When Nate died it hit me (and is still hitting me) much harder than I realized.
At his funeral, I started collecting stories. Any story I heard I would commit to memory. I told Robert about this and he set up a blog and more or less said "Let's get posting". For those of us who knew Nate it was a wonderful way to remember all the weird stories and jokes he would tell. It also let us share our grief. Then, something horrible happened. I ran out of memories. As much as I wracked my brain trying to find one more memory lodged deep in the back of my brain, I couldn't find one. A lot of people have stories, but are reluctant to share for one reason or another.
While I was home over Christmas I mentioned my horrible camera was out of commission and my Dad gave me a new one. Not new new, but new to me. I didn't think much of it at the time. To me a camera was a useful tool.
As far as talking to God (praying) I do that a lot these days. As far as God talking back, I can only think of two times when I've felt that through and through 100%. I'm starting to think that maybe this was a time and I just didn't catch on. I felt as if God was saying "Take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures." I was confused. Why should I take pictures? What for? What useful purpose would this serve? But I had the camera and I felt it more prudent to test this possible message from God than ignore it.
Starting on New Year's Eve I started taking pictures. Tons of pictures. Pictures of anything that would sit still long enough to be photographed. And I get it now. It helps you remember. When you take a picture you're capturing a small moment of time. Eternity or now (whichever it is) is frozen and you have that moment for later. It's a beautiful thing. Like time travelling.
So....this leads me to why I'm writing this. Why am I taking your picture? Because I don't want to forget you. I've allowed so many people to come and go in my life and I have totally forgotten every detail about them. It's not that I have no memory.....I didn't try. And I don't think you look terrible....I think you look beautiful. You are frozen in time in a moment of the fluid human experience that is a gift from the Divine.
So if I tag you in a Facebook picture and you wish to de-tag it....go ahead. But I was just trying to hang on to a fleeting moment. To remember you. To remember all the beautiful things in this World before the tide of time drags you out to sea where I can't get it again. In essence, to remember you and the beauty of you.
I'm sorry I don't have more photographs of Nate. I'm not going to let that happen again.
The Ultimate Artist
I've taken up a Sunday ritual that replaced church for me for a while. I made myself a good breakfast, put on a Peter Kreeft lecture and played video games. I find Peter Kreeft very stimulating. Not just mentally, but spiritually. My two favorite ways to be fed. If we include breakfast it's the most full I've ever been.
This morning I was listening to "Shocking Beauty" which in a very roundabout way discusses the importance of art in religion. I think one of the Devil's latest tricks is to try and drive art out of Christianity. I think this plan is starting to fail (thank God).
In my own lifetime I've seen something that I've come to abhor very much. It is a message from several churches throughout America and possibly the World (couldn't say....not much of a World traveler). The message goes like this.
"Dear Artist,
We welcome you to our church, but religion demands sacrifice. In this case, we demand you sacrifice your artistic ways. Cease to be unusual. Please conform and fit in. We want our church to be looked on with favor by other churches and your off the wall ways might have the opposite effect.
Your friends in Christ,
The Sane People"
I feel like I've heard this message and it's something that has kept me, though not entirely away from, at an unhealthy distance from Christianity. From Christ. From God.
I quite agree that religion demands sacrifice. I remember first reading these words from a list of Gandhi quotes on a wall in my mother's office and as soon as I read it I said "Of course. I knew it was always so." Even when I didn't live out those words.
However, to sacrifice unusual manners that are not sinful is, I believe, a sin in itself. I don't believe God favors conformity. It was said of the angels that each individual angel should be looked upon as it's own species. Is this a God who favors conformity? Doubt it.
I think there is an error. We think unity and conformity are synonyms. It's a total lie. Conformity means that we are merely the same type. Unity means we are all together. Toast, eggs, coffee and bacon are not of the same type, but when they are unified they make breakfast! Fantastic!!! I have many Christian friends who differ in many ways. Our lack of conformity does not make us weaker. It makes us stronger. Strengthening the body of Christ. In fact, body is a perfect metaphor. My hand and my liver are very very different. If I went into the doctor and asked him to have my left hand and my liver switch places I think I would get weird looks. Rightfully so. They weren't built to perform the same functions.
Same with us.
I've tried, in vain, to try and live a suburban-styled life. I've failed. I love the weirdos. The people who lack sanity. Who dress funny. Who talk funny. Who think odd things and smell weird. It's my favorite place to be. It's not that suburban-styled life is bad. I was just a hand trying to be a liver. We need both.
What's the point in saying all this? It is a plea. Art is a necessity to Christianity. Not a decoration (and this is where I'm really ripping off Kreeft). When you have a bizarre artist amongst you who says they are a member of the Body of Christ.....you have a choice to make. You can say one of the two things. They start the same way.
"It is wonderful that you are a member of the Body of Christ. Now, lose the nose ring, cut your hair to an appropriate length, wear something more clean cut and bathe more regularly."
"It is wonderful that you are a member of the Body of Christ. How splendid you chose to be among us. We are now closer to complete than we were before."
I think the latter is the right thing to say. Simply because God, in his creation of us, is the Ultimate Artist.
This morning I was listening to "Shocking Beauty" which in a very roundabout way discusses the importance of art in religion. I think one of the Devil's latest tricks is to try and drive art out of Christianity. I think this plan is starting to fail (thank God).
In my own lifetime I've seen something that I've come to abhor very much. It is a message from several churches throughout America and possibly the World (couldn't say....not much of a World traveler). The message goes like this.
"Dear Artist,
We welcome you to our church, but religion demands sacrifice. In this case, we demand you sacrifice your artistic ways. Cease to be unusual. Please conform and fit in. We want our church to be looked on with favor by other churches and your off the wall ways might have the opposite effect.
Your friends in Christ,
The Sane People"
I feel like I've heard this message and it's something that has kept me, though not entirely away from, at an unhealthy distance from Christianity. From Christ. From God.
I quite agree that religion demands sacrifice. I remember first reading these words from a list of Gandhi quotes on a wall in my mother's office and as soon as I read it I said "Of course. I knew it was always so." Even when I didn't live out those words.
However, to sacrifice unusual manners that are not sinful is, I believe, a sin in itself. I don't believe God favors conformity. It was said of the angels that each individual angel should be looked upon as it's own species. Is this a God who favors conformity? Doubt it.
I think there is an error. We think unity and conformity are synonyms. It's a total lie. Conformity means that we are merely the same type. Unity means we are all together. Toast, eggs, coffee and bacon are not of the same type, but when they are unified they make breakfast! Fantastic!!! I have many Christian friends who differ in many ways. Our lack of conformity does not make us weaker. It makes us stronger. Strengthening the body of Christ. In fact, body is a perfect metaphor. My hand and my liver are very very different. If I went into the doctor and asked him to have my left hand and my liver switch places I think I would get weird looks. Rightfully so. They weren't built to perform the same functions.
Same with us.
I've tried, in vain, to try and live a suburban-styled life. I've failed. I love the weirdos. The people who lack sanity. Who dress funny. Who talk funny. Who think odd things and smell weird. It's my favorite place to be. It's not that suburban-styled life is bad. I was just a hand trying to be a liver. We need both.
What's the point in saying all this? It is a plea. Art is a necessity to Christianity. Not a decoration (and this is where I'm really ripping off Kreeft). When you have a bizarre artist amongst you who says they are a member of the Body of Christ.....you have a choice to make. You can say one of the two things. They start the same way.
"It is wonderful that you are a member of the Body of Christ. Now, lose the nose ring, cut your hair to an appropriate length, wear something more clean cut and bathe more regularly."
"It is wonderful that you are a member of the Body of Christ. How splendid you chose to be among us. We are now closer to complete than we were before."
I think the latter is the right thing to say. Simply because God, in his creation of us, is the Ultimate Artist.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
May the dub be with you
I've been wanting to try and record some dub and reggae in my apartment. The idea of dub fascinates me more because I really want to mess around with Audacity some. So I dug around my apartment and found a lot of the stuff I've used in the past to record. 4-Track, keyboard, noise toys, acoustic guitar, bass, mandolin (it'll be very experimental dub), and so on.
Notice something missing? I couldn't find my microphone. All that hunting and searching and I couldn't find it. Even found the cord that would make it work with my 4-track, but no microphone!!!
So I set up my laptop to see if that would work. Kinda yes and kinda no. I was actually really impressed with how well the little microphone on my laptop functions. It does a really great job of picking up any noise in front of it. The problem comes when you do overdubs. When I start layering the tracks, they start getting off my fractions of fractions of beats. That can't happen when yer doing reggae music. The beat is sooooo very essential that everything has to be DEAD ON. I tried to muddle through a couple of tracks, but in the end it was all so embarrassing I scratched it.
The good news? I'm up and moving. I have a plan of what I want to do, how I want to do and what it'll look like when it's done. I've been in need of a creative project and I think this will suit me very well. I'll just write and when next month rolls around I'll order a new cheap mic. They ain't that pricey.
Notice something missing? I couldn't find my microphone. All that hunting and searching and I couldn't find it. Even found the cord that would make it work with my 4-track, but no microphone!!!
So I set up my laptop to see if that would work. Kinda yes and kinda no. I was actually really impressed with how well the little microphone on my laptop functions. It does a really great job of picking up any noise in front of it. The problem comes when you do overdubs. When I start layering the tracks, they start getting off my fractions of fractions of beats. That can't happen when yer doing reggae music. The beat is sooooo very essential that everything has to be DEAD ON. I tried to muddle through a couple of tracks, but in the end it was all so embarrassing I scratched it.
The good news? I'm up and moving. I have a plan of what I want to do, how I want to do and what it'll look like when it's done. I've been in need of a creative project and I think this will suit me very well. I'll just write and when next month rolls around I'll order a new cheap mic. They ain't that pricey.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Meaningless
The idea of something being meaningless to me is totally meaningless. It means something. All of it.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Body Parts
The hand was the start of it
The hand was alight
It was unclear as to whether it was alight with fire
Alight with energy
Electricity
Very hard to say
But if you took a glance you took a stare
You would become as a deer in headlights
The hand delved into the chest
And the chest was pale
It moved up and down with illness and coughing
It shimmied and shook as sweat streamed down
The chest was rotten to the core
But the hand delved into it
Through flesh and bone it bore
As silent as a summer breeze it went through
skin flesh and bone
And into the chest
The tints of pink and red shone out across the room as the hand dug
It dug deeper and deeper
Then it grasped something
The something struggled back
But the hand was stronger and it pulled back out of the chest not leaving so much as a scar
And the hand carried with it putrid tar
The hand cupped it and pulled every last string out of the chest
The stink coated the room but the hand worked on
It threw it against the wall and it slid down
And when the tar had heaped itself together on the floor it slunk out the door
The hand shook the remnants with one shake
And turned to the chest
The chest was healthy and vibrant
It moved up and down
Oxygen flowed steady as the rhythm of a drum
Beating life out as it's new cadence
The body that accompanied the chest caused it to rise
The body saw the hand open and inviting
The mouth said...
"I do not need you anymore. Good bye."
The feet turned
The legs moved
The hand wept
For it knew that this would come to pass again.
The hand was alight
It was unclear as to whether it was alight with fire
Alight with energy
Electricity
Very hard to say
But if you took a glance you took a stare
You would become as a deer in headlights
The hand delved into the chest
And the chest was pale
It moved up and down with illness and coughing
It shimmied and shook as sweat streamed down
The chest was rotten to the core
But the hand delved into it
Through flesh and bone it bore
As silent as a summer breeze it went through
skin flesh and bone
And into the chest
The tints of pink and red shone out across the room as the hand dug
It dug deeper and deeper
Then it grasped something
The something struggled back
But the hand was stronger and it pulled back out of the chest not leaving so much as a scar
And the hand carried with it putrid tar
The hand cupped it and pulled every last string out of the chest
The stink coated the room but the hand worked on
It threw it against the wall and it slid down
And when the tar had heaped itself together on the floor it slunk out the door
The hand shook the remnants with one shake
And turned to the chest
The chest was healthy and vibrant
It moved up and down
Oxygen flowed steady as the rhythm of a drum
Beating life out as it's new cadence
The body that accompanied the chest caused it to rise
The body saw the hand open and inviting
The mouth said...
"I do not need you anymore. Good bye."
The feet turned
The legs moved
The hand wept
For it knew that this would come to pass again.
Mark
Two nights ago after church I overheard a guy saying that his plan for the next few weeks might be to live in his car. For no good reason I can now think of, I turned to him and said "I have a couch you can sleep on for a while if you want."
It wasn't that insane in retrospect. I've had total strangers stay on my couch before (thanks Couchsurfing.com) and I've stayed on total strangers couches before. And since Mark knew folks that I knew....it seemed much less insane.
For me though....I like the disruption of my routine. For about two and a half years (with intermittent gaps) I've had roughly the same daily routine. Get up, eat, dress, shower, go to work, work, come home, watch TV, internet, sleep. The monotony of the routine builds up after about a week. Less than that probably. Imagine doing it since 2007.
Maybe insanity is more sane than we give it credit for. Society seems to put so much stress on safety and security. Safety and security can be good, but they also make life predictable. Painfully horribly predictable. Even if your life was something like thrill seeker (bungee jumping and sky diving and that jazz matazz) if you knew every morning when you woke up that you would be thrill seeking....that would HAVE to kill some of the excitement.
I think we as people seek that which is new. Something novel. Every night we want to go to bed and say "Never did that before" about SOMETHING.
If that rings true...start today.
Besides, it's winter in Colorado. It seems horrific to me that there are tons of people sleeping in cars or on streets. I can't take in every homeless person in Denver, but if I can keep one person from sleeping in a car....that's a pretty good deal!
It wasn't that insane in retrospect. I've had total strangers stay on my couch before (thanks Couchsurfing.com) and I've stayed on total strangers couches before. And since Mark knew folks that I knew....it seemed much less insane.
For me though....I like the disruption of my routine. For about two and a half years (with intermittent gaps) I've had roughly the same daily routine. Get up, eat, dress, shower, go to work, work, come home, watch TV, internet, sleep. The monotony of the routine builds up after about a week. Less than that probably. Imagine doing it since 2007.
Maybe insanity is more sane than we give it credit for. Society seems to put so much stress on safety and security. Safety and security can be good, but they also make life predictable. Painfully horribly predictable. Even if your life was something like thrill seeker (bungee jumping and sky diving and that jazz matazz) if you knew every morning when you woke up that you would be thrill seeking....that would HAVE to kill some of the excitement.
I think we as people seek that which is new. Something novel. Every night we want to go to bed and say "Never did that before" about SOMETHING.
If that rings true...start today.
Besides, it's winter in Colorado. It seems horrific to me that there are tons of people sleeping in cars or on streets. I can't take in every homeless person in Denver, but if I can keep one person from sleeping in a car....that's a pretty good deal!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
LTJ Lyrics
This is something I posted on Facebook a little over a year ago. It's been on my brain lately so I decided to repost it here. I think it falls into the bad jokes category.
Just use the words from the word bank, and fill in the blanks. Modify for grammar as needed.
Roads
Drunk
Cigarettes
New Jersey
Gainesville
Self-loathing
I was _____________ the other night while I was thinking about _____________
I decided to ______________ and I wound up ___________________
Is this the only way to __________________?
_____________ all the way to ____________________
I ______________ the __________________
I wish ____________ was ______________
Congratulations! You've written lyrics as deep as Less Than Jake!!!
(P.S. I do love LTJ, but let's face it....this is as deep as their lyrics get)
Just use the words from the word bank, and fill in the blanks. Modify for grammar as needed.
Roads
Drunk
Cigarettes
New Jersey
Gainesville
Self-loathing
I was _____________ the other night while I was thinking about _____________
I decided to ______________ and I wound up ___________________
Is this the only way to __________________?
_____________ all the way to ____________________
I ______________ the __________________
I wish ____________ was ______________
Congratulations! You've written lyrics as deep as Less Than Jake!!!
(P.S. I do love LTJ, but let's face it....this is as deep as their lyrics get)
Calendars are stupid
With the new year approaching my friend Mike and I were having a discussion about time. I was talking about how the current configuration of time frustrates me because it seems somewhat arbitrary. Why 60 minutes to an hour? Why 7 days a week? What's the deal here?
Mike told me I should rearrange the calendar using numbers frequently used in texts of holy origin. 3, 7, 12 and 40. So I set about this task by rearranging the day.
The way I rearranged it is I decided that 60 seconds should stand as a minute. The reason is that a minute is also a measure of distance in addition to being a measurement of time. Too much to rearrange. I wanna stick to time. However, the hour seemed somewhat arbitrary to me so I decided an hour is now 40 minutes. This means that there would be 36 hours in a day as opposed to 24. I see this as a plus. Now the day can be divided into three equal portions. I like this because currently midnight to noon is morning. Undisputed. Afternoon currently starts after 12pm. Also undisputed. But when does evening start? Different answers from different people. So now the three 12 hour segments are morning, afternoon and evening. And it wouldn't be disputed.
I'm still working on weeks, but a day is a day and that can't be disputed. It can't be disputed because we're measuring how long it takes us to spin in a circle.
Two things occur to me while I'm doing this. First of all, I wondered what made me special enough to do this? What power or authority do I have to re-write the measurement of time as I see fit? The answer is none, but also all the authority. I mean, the folks who wrote it....what authority did they have? They just decided. Seems that I have the same authority.
Also, this started because I'm not entirely sure I believe in time. For me, the only moment that truly exists is the present. The problem? Our lives aren't big enough to cover the whole thing. I exist at one moment in the present. My ancestors exist in another part of the present and my progeny (should they come to exist) will exist in a different part. It seems odd, but to me it makes sense. I mean....I can't exist in San Francisco, Denver, Atlanta and Detroit all at once. But if I leave Denver to visit San Francisco, San Francisco doesn't cease to exist. It just means I'm not there anymore.
Time is an illusion. Measuring it is arbitrary. Human authority is a joke.
Enjoy the ride!
Mike told me I should rearrange the calendar using numbers frequently used in texts of holy origin. 3, 7, 12 and 40. So I set about this task by rearranging the day.
The way I rearranged it is I decided that 60 seconds should stand as a minute. The reason is that a minute is also a measure of distance in addition to being a measurement of time. Too much to rearrange. I wanna stick to time. However, the hour seemed somewhat arbitrary to me so I decided an hour is now 40 minutes. This means that there would be 36 hours in a day as opposed to 24. I see this as a plus. Now the day can be divided into three equal portions. I like this because currently midnight to noon is morning. Undisputed. Afternoon currently starts after 12pm. Also undisputed. But when does evening start? Different answers from different people. So now the three 12 hour segments are morning, afternoon and evening. And it wouldn't be disputed.
I'm still working on weeks, but a day is a day and that can't be disputed. It can't be disputed because we're measuring how long it takes us to spin in a circle.
Two things occur to me while I'm doing this. First of all, I wondered what made me special enough to do this? What power or authority do I have to re-write the measurement of time as I see fit? The answer is none, but also all the authority. I mean, the folks who wrote it....what authority did they have? They just decided. Seems that I have the same authority.
Also, this started because I'm not entirely sure I believe in time. For me, the only moment that truly exists is the present. The problem? Our lives aren't big enough to cover the whole thing. I exist at one moment in the present. My ancestors exist in another part of the present and my progeny (should they come to exist) will exist in a different part. It seems odd, but to me it makes sense. I mean....I can't exist in San Francisco, Denver, Atlanta and Detroit all at once. But if I leave Denver to visit San Francisco, San Francisco doesn't cease to exist. It just means I'm not there anymore.
Time is an illusion. Measuring it is arbitrary. Human authority is a joke.
Enjoy the ride!
Attempt
Peter Kreeft said that Christ breaks us in two and inserts himself into the new rift that is formed. I like that idea. I like the idea of new experiences breaking our lives in two and then being sealed together again with something magical. Perhaps we live several lives and they are all fused together with lots of mystical welding here and there.
Anyway, I find often times my life is broken, re-sealed and I move on without marking the occasion. God says stop. So I'll stop now.
Up here I plan on journaling about my life. My hope is it will include photographs, stories, artistic expression, philosophy, math and all that intrigues me. If these ideas intrigue you....follow along.
Join me as I rip black balls of tar out of my soul to cleanse it. These black tar balls will be on display daily here.
Thank you.
Anyway, I find often times my life is broken, re-sealed and I move on without marking the occasion. God says stop. So I'll stop now.
Up here I plan on journaling about my life. My hope is it will include photographs, stories, artistic expression, philosophy, math and all that intrigues me. If these ideas intrigue you....follow along.
Join me as I rip black balls of tar out of my soul to cleanse it. These black tar balls will be on display daily here.
Thank you.
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