Hot of the Press...

I'm sorry, I have to say that this is funny. At first I was a little horrified. No, I'm just saying that. I laughed. I told you I have a wicked, twisted sense of humor sometimes. (I was a little ticked. Sort of like, "Hey, back off W, Jackass. We are the only people allowed to throw shoes at him.") The only reason that I think it is funny, I think... is because W sort of smirks at the man after the first chunk. He easily dodges the second one as he seems to have quickly assessed the Iraqi's aim. He told reporters shortly after his double-duck that he thought the shoe was a size 10. Hey, W's got reflex.

The reporter screamed, "here is a farewell kiss for you, you dog!" and then chunked his Florsheim wing-tip at W's kisser.

Ahhhh. Of all the things that has happened to Bush the past 8 years, of all the befuddled condickerments he has verbiated, this moment shall stand as the most memorable.

Crack

So, my Starbux drink of choice is a Grande Soy White Chocolate Mocha, with whip. I've been drinking this drink now for about 5 years and I think I might be ready to try something new. This is a big step for me. I'm a tad bit like Rain Man when it comes to my Starbux drink and if I don't get my drink every other day or so, I start walking around in circles, mumbling, dropping toothpicks and counting them.

So, as a part of my pre-new-years resolution, I am going to try a few new drinks out to see if I am missing out on anything.

So hit me. Favorite Starbux drink. Please include pertinent sweetening additions. I do like sweet drinks. Whatever the case, it must have caffeine. Without it, what is the purpose.

Make it Stop

Is anyone else besides me getting tired of Britney? The time has come to move on, world. Britney graduated from naughty catholic schoolgirl to a wasted, bald, panty-less tragedy and we put her there. And I thought that was the end. I had moved on with my life. I thought the parents (may they someday be lashed and beaten for the shameful prostitution of this girl) had intervened and Britney was on her way to becoming a human being. Obama had replaced all talk about Britney and we were moving into Miley territory. (Not much better but at least a change of face in the checkout line.)

But, but, but... WHAT? She's back? As if she were never gone and we never stopped caring about K-fed and his goal to finally steal the golden belt from Vanilla Ice as the "lamest white rapper in history-World Champion."

Please, for the love of good smutty magazines... Britney, can you please, take your sparkle nude-body suit and GO A-WAY, or at least stay out of the news??? (I did like Toxic. Cool song. A few more of those wouldn't hurt.) Otherwise, it is finally time to go the way of all sparkle nude body-suits. I can't take it anymore. It's bad enough that we are still hearing GranMadonna gyrating around and spewing her idiotic rhetoric after ALL THESE YEARS.

And just when I thought we were through with your absolutely WHITE TRASH saga, I turn around with an armful of bread and eggs to see K-FED'S nappy-ass grin juxtaposed next to some strung-out picture of you.

And Mr. Fed, Esq., do the procurers of US Weekly actually think that we still give two turd-launchers about your tremendously touching story, of how you knocked up the richest and most unstable woman ALIVE, and proceeded to sue her for ridiculous amounts of child-support money when she left your parasite-self to your McDonalds commercials??? Do you actually THINK that we CARE??? I mean, I could care less if your kids will grow up to know their mother... or if Britney actually DOES love you after all this... time... JUST LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE! (sniff.)


Sheesh... I wonder if Kroger's has sold out of this week's issue... Maybe I SHOULD check up on those two... just to see if they are okay...

Someday soon, people (besides the ones who should) will stop caring about Britney Spears and K-Fed and then, then there shall be peace on earth, good will towards men.

Thirty So-ME-thing

I was having a good chat yesterday with my buddy Brody on ichat. Somehow the subject of fame and approval came up and he said, "yeah, I suppose they (people) just want to be liked, just like we do."

It is always a shocker when that little realization hits me. You know, you go through years and years of getting over that crap. You think you are all grown up and doing your thing, only to find that phrase knocking you in the gut like it did in Jr. High.

The want to be validated is dangerous business.

The desperate need to be liked, acknowledged and validated, or to "make our mark" is so easily substituted for the true and right yearning of our hearts: to love and to be loved and appreciated. The society in which we live doesn't help much. You are only "something" if you've played with your band on Conan O'Brien, or have had a big record deal, or a big Broadway show, or a big film break... And you'd think that only the non-famous struggle with this. Nay, it this little disease goes from the bottom to the middle, all the way to the top. World famous singers leave their careers as recording artists to be in films and fail miserably, followed by a giant leap into depression.

Recent studies have shown that if people today were given the choice of fame, health, intelligence, looks, good family and healthy marriage - they would choose fame, overwhelmingly. Not surprising. It is the original sin; we want to be god. We want worship, adoration, acknowledgement, and success that stomps the competition into the dirt. Like an addict yearns for that next hit, our ego yearns for the next and bigger recognition.

The odd thing is, that when your heart is right, and you are acknowledged, you are humbled rather than puffed up.

Wanting the world's approval is a weird, nasty thing. It makes you push your way to the front. I makes you brag on your charity. It makes parents say nasty things about other kids so that their kid will be first. It makes artists steal, lie and cheat. Basically, it brings out the absolute WORST in us, even in the most selfless acts. Like a drip of dye, the tiniest boast can taint the best and kindest acts of charity. That's why the Lord said to drop your gift at the door with no return address.

Then the time factor sets in and makes the whole situation worse. I'm about in my mid-thirties and some new and unique feelings have sprouted their ugly heads. In your twenties you feel like you've got all the time in the world. Shoot, you could even still be a pro-baseball player if you want! But you soon find that you can't just go out and run a mile and lose 11 pounds like you used to. Your body has started to keep its own council on personal growth. You look down in the shower to see hair accumulating in the drain and hair growing on every other part of your body that shouldn't be hairy. You check to see if you accidentally used Nair hair removal instead of conditioner on your head. Then, slowly but surely, your nose begins its slow offensive to take over your face.

I talk to a lot of guys these days and they struggle with this question: "What have I done? Why am I not great? I should be well-known by now." Especially here in NYC. (It is everywhere, its just that NYC - and I imagine Nashville and L.A.- inherently attracts the fame-thirsty.) I am NO stranger to these thoughts myself. It is an everyday battle. I am here to tell you, my friends, wherever you are, if you let this self-pity settle-in, these questions are not just bad, they are deadly. They can kill the heart of an artist/father/husband or artist/mother/wife faster than you can scratch your underwear rash.

The questions should be: "Why have I done for others with the gifts I've been given? Why am I not the great man/husband/father/mother/artist God has made me and commanded me to be? Am I doing my best in all that I do? Am I being obedient? I need God above all things, and I need to love and be loved."

I help lead worship now for the Redeemer Recovery Group for Redeemer Pres. and I'm finding that the need for control and the need to be acknowledged are probably the leading cause every kind of addiction there is today and probably the leading cause of broken-marriages as well. These thoughts turned inward to self-pity can empty every bit of God's life and joy for life out of you, leaving you with a vacuum - a vacuum that sucks all affirmations into its event horizon. And what do you find when you finally get the approval that you think you need? You find that you simply need more approval. And the people from whom you were seeking the approval seem to only want more out of you. Nothing is ever enough for those folks, nor is it enough for you.

There are many things that make us want that approval, and there isn't time or space to go into all of them, but let's just say that the power of our parent's words of affirmation or lack thereof is astounding. But even with the best and most encouraging parents (like mine!) we can easily find ourselves never satisfied and wanting more.


Jesus said that all the law could be summed up in two commandments: "Love the Lord God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength, and to Love your neighbor as yourself." Good grief, how easy it is to turn that into "Try to gain fame and notoriety with all your mind soul and strength" and "Love making your neighbor notice you as you love being noticed."

All that to say, "Seek first the Kingdom of God, and his righteousness..."

It isn't the solution that we want to hear because it means a total submission of self to something else altogether and infinitely more than us. It means hard work. When I'm at my worst, I hear that, and it just makes me mad. I want to take a whack at whoever is preaching that old tired sermon to me. But that is probably one of the signs that it is so very right. A submission of your will is the only way to experience real peace, joy, freedom and the abundant life the Good Lord has for us. When you do, your talents and gifts come alive in way that they never have. They become the blessing they were meant to be rather than the curses that we have made them.

And how does one do all that? I'm still learning.

;-) имейте славный день. (Have a Nice Day.)

MOSCOW -- How much would you pay for a ;-)?

"A Russian businessman has trademarked the emoticon - or combination of punctuation marks - used to convey a wink in text messages and e-mail.

Oleg Teterin, president of the mobile ad company Superfone, said Thursday he doesn't plan on tracking down individual users following the decision by the federal patent agency.

"I want to highlight that this is only directed at corporations, companies that are trying to make a profit without the permission of the trademark holder," he said in comments to NTV.

Companies will be sent legal warnings if they use the symbol without his permission, he said.

"Legal use will be possible after buying an annual license from us," he was quoted by Kommersant as saying. "It won't cost that much _ tens of thousands of dollars."

He also said since other similar emoticons _ :-) or ;) or :) _ resemble the one he has trademarked, use of those symbols could also fall under his ownership.

Other Russian Internet entrepreneurs reacted to the effort predictably _ >:( "



My aside: A few random things in no particular order that I'd like to trademark in the blogosphere and other places...

I think I want to trademark putting periods after. every. word. to. emphasize. my. point. I think I want to trademark using "its" when you should be using "it's." I could make a mint off my posts alone. Its horrible how many times I read that... See look! I just mad 5 cents! The potential...

I think I also want to trademark the third finger. My royalty check from New Yorkers alone would be enormous.

I think I want to copyright the chord that is in each cab and SUV honker.

As for Christian music, I want to trademark "grace like rain," and rhyming "love" with "above." Also, the phrase "paid my price," could bring in a serious monthly check.

Finally, I think I would trademark farting on packed subways. The fine for offenders there would be enormous, possibly jail time, depending on the stench-o-meter.

What would you trademark, copyright, or paten?

Fullness of Time: Egypt - the Power of the Priests

At the time of the Lord's coming there were three religions of significance. Each religion was primed and ready and contributed to the rapid spread of the Gospel afterwards. The three dominant religions of the time were Egyptian, Greek and Judaism. (There were many, many others, but these are the three critical to the Gospel's unfurling.) Judaism was no where near as large or as the other two, but it was most certainly as strong and rich in tradition. The first I'll tackle will be the Egyptians. By the time of the Incarnation, Egypt was a Roman state, but the religion still held its people.

To understand Egyptian religion is to understand the importance of two things: The afterlife, and priests. Sounds pretty similar to us huh? Not really.

For the Egyptians, death was paramount in all their thinking, daily life and religion. All Egyptian art is centered around death and the fear of death. It's pretty cool to look at now, but it must have been a pretty miserable existence to live during that time. The amount of suffering that went in to building that civilization is unimaginable. It wasn't just the slaves who lived on a narrow margin of safety either. There is a famous epitaph of an Egyptian noble that boasts that he had never been beaten or whipped in front of the local magistrate. It was pretty common for everyone to be whacked or smacked, publicly in Egypt. If you made it through your short life (30-45) without being whipped, you were really something. Little value was placed upon the living. In such conditions, men, seeing little hope in the suffering of their present state, turned to the afterlife.

As a result, there were no great works of philosophy coming out of Egypt at the time. Why would they turn to their reasoning if it gave them no relief from the pain of their present? The mind and spirit of the Egyptian was enslaved.

In Egypt, the domain of the reasoning belonged to the priests alone. Today, popular movies depict the Pharaohs as the most powerful men in Egypt. But it was the priests who held the real power, and their power was tremendous. Kings were subject to it. And as you might guess, the priests guarded that power jealously. To the Egyptian priests, the notion of a people thinking for themselves was nothing less than catastrophic. For to be ignorant was to be afraid, and the only way to ever really rule or control man was through fear. There was only one Pharaoh who ever challenged their authority. His name was Akhenaton. Astoundingly, Akhenaton tried to turn Egypt into a monotheistic religion. But after he died, the priests took possession of his successor and wiped his name from the monuments.

So even though the Egyptian religion has been popularized in our film culture by fun summer movies, it was no joke to the everyday Egyptian. To live in Egypt was to live in a virtual misery and fear. The afterlife was the only hope you had, and the afterlife was carefully guarded by the Priests, who just happened to be the ones at the top causing all the suffering.

In short, life in Egypt sucked. No sense in romanticizing it. It sucked. Bigtime. Period. (Compared to the way we think and live today.) Unless of course, you were a priest. It is no wonder Christianity spread like a wind across its conquered remains. The wikipedia's only explanation for Christianity's rapid spread is to say the Christ resembled one of their gods and that Christ himself was a mythical person. I was astounded to read this in the Wikipedia. Christ as a mythical person is a theory that no noted historian takes seriously. It is nothing short of conspiracy theory. But somehow, it seems to be the author's only explanation:

"Egyptian mythology put up surprisingly little resistance to the spread of Christianity, sometimes explained by claiming that Jesus was originally a syncretism based predominantly on Horus, with Isis and her worship becoming Mary and veneration (see Jesus as myth)."

Nice try. I have a different take on why Christianity spread.

Next up: The Greeks.

I'm So Irritated That I Missed This

Did anybody catch this? It was cloudy. Suck.

My Line

It was bound to happen. Eat your heart out Joey. You and your little girly Joey Jeans. This blog is dedicated to all those punks on my 7th grade football team that gave me wedgies because my mom had magic-markered my name on my underwear (bigger than life) to distinguish mine from my dad's. Yeah, who's laughing now? HAHAHAHHAHAHA!

(Thanks to the Hammering Hebrew and Super Churchlady for sending this picture along to me and finally bringing closure to a painful chapter of my youth.)

Breath of Somethin'

This morning I walked into the glorious St. Thomas Cathedral and made my way to one of the empty pews to the right of the Sanctuary. (The ones on the right are short and only sit 3!) I dropped my sock hat, my scarf and my gloves, closed my eyes and opened my ears and heart to the beautiful boys choir chorale sound filling the temple.

"Ahhh, this is nice." I cleared my mind and prepared for prayer.

Enter coughing couple.

They sat noisily down beside me and began working the Sunday program over with the gentle touch of Sasquatch and his bride, accompanied by their whispers that were as subtle as two large gas leaks. I suppose their ears were stopped-up and they couldn't hear the amazing amplitude at which their bulletin-crinkling and whispering was cranking. Then came the coughs.

Now, I'm all for people coming to church, as I grew up in a house where some part of your body had to be bloody to miss church.

However, when you grow up, I don't think the Good Lord minds your staying home if you can't take a half a breath without coughing up huge amounts of snot or if you have to fan your sweaty brow with the bulletin in 30 degree weather, therefore fanning your plague-vapors into the direct path of my breathing apparatus. Because, my friends, I do so love the smell of sick breath. I love it so much.

But see, that's just my plight. I seem to have been born with something of a magnet for the sick, smelly and uber talky. I have yet to take a train or a subway in NYC without much of my personal space being unwillingly forfeit, not to mention forfeiting acceptable breathing conditions.

I know, I know. God loves us all, every smelly one. And I'm probably a big jerk for not being so welcoming but... a bath never hurt nobody, nor does staying home from church when all you are going to do is sneeze, cough, and complain in loud septic whispers. To make matters worse, the tremendously irritating lady emitting the bubonic fumes couldn't see the pastor unless she leaned slightly my way.

So there we sat: Me glued to the side of the pew and Lord and Lady iron-lung leaning over me, whilst she fanned her foul breath into the care of my immune system. I finally had to put my program directly to my face to block the assault of her breath.

I prayed half the service that I wouldn't be drinking after her when we took communion. When the usher motioned for our row I bolted to the altar and eyed over my shoulder to make sure I had beaten Lady GaVirus to the cup.

How's that for a worshipful attitude?

Sunday Game: Which Caption is the Correct Caption?

1. "Man Tired of Carrying Around His Extra Brain, Finally Seeks Amputation!"

2. "Man Discovers Reason for Deafness in Left Ear. Vows to Never Use Q-tips Again."

3. "Man Wakes up From Ten Year Coma and Extracts World's Largest Hunk of Petrified Belly Button Lint!"

4. "Man Suspicious of Tyson's Turkey Hormone Injections After He Receives His Thanksgiving Turkey Order"

5. "Man Passes World's Largest Kidney Stone. Says He Never Wants to Hear a Woman Gripe About Childbirth EVER AGAIN."

6. "Man Hopes to Set Worlds Record for Largest Potato. Plans to Sell to Hasbro for the 'Elephant Man Potato Head' line."

Another Music "Nerdy" Post

This one goes out to you composers reading. (All one of you. Thank you Stephen.)




To these composer's credit... If it weren't for these melodious, dulcet, euphonious, mellifluous moments in music composition, we would have no soundtrack for : Jaws, Close Encounters, Star Wars, Psycho, The Matrix, There Will Be Blood... pretty much any score that uses atonality.

Just for fun, if you are interested in how music tonality ended up where it is today, here is the shortest "history of music tonality" you'll ever read: Chant, Josquin, Palestrina, Bach, Haydn, Beethoven, Chopin, Berlioz, Wagner, Schoenberg, Debussy, Stravinsky, Bartok Penderecki, Philip Glass, Steven Reich, The Beatles, The end.

Okay... Coldplay Plagiarism, part 2

So check it out...

Someone took the idea we talked about here in my last blog and ran with it...

Now, when the story broke, my blog was one of the only ones that showed up besides the original article on google. The people JUST constructed this little experiment. PLAGIARISM I TELL YOU!!!!

This is pretty cool.

Did Coldplay Plagiarize?

By Greg Kot | Tribune critic
December 6, 2008
A day after hauling in seven Grammy nominations, the members of Coldplay should've been celebrating. Instead they were served with a copyright infringement lawsuit Thursday that claims they ripped off guitarist Joe Satriani to write one of their biggest hits, "Viva La Vida."

The song, nominated Wednesday for song and record of the year by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, incorporates "substantial original portions" of Satriani's 2004 instrumental "If I Could Fly," according to the lawsuit filed in Los Angeles federal court.


(My aside.)
When I was a kid, Joe Satriani was one of my guitar HEROS. I wore OUT his album "Surfing with the Alien." I'm also a big Coldplay fan. A friend of mine here in the city has helped mix (or assisted the main mixer) on the last couple of their records. I'm trying to get him to let me in on one of their sessions (to be a fly on the wall) but I doubt that will be happening.

Anyways, here are the two tunes. You don't really need to listen to all of them to get why Satriani is a little miffed about the similarities. Me thinks Satriani just might have a case. But I don't know. What do you guys think? Here are the two tunes - listen for yourself and let me know what you think!

Coldplay, "Viva La Vida" (I LOVE this tune, btw.)



Satriani, "If I Could Fly" (The plagiarism starts at 50 seconds into the tune, or at least that would be my guess... Sounds similar to Coldplay's verse. Oh come on, who am I kidding. It's practically identical.)


(Big post on the music business and theft coming!)

Sullivan's Travels

I watched a good old movie last night with Amber: Sullivan's Travels. It is about a wealthy Hollywood director in the 40's who is tired of making funny movies and wants to make "serious" movies, or movies that more reflect the hardships of the time. He wants to make "Oh Brother Where Art Thou." (How funny that someday that movie would be made and it would be a comedy.) However, he has never experienced a hard day in his life and decides to become a hobo. To his amazement, in his travels he discovers that even though people experience tough times, it doesn't mean they want to wallow in films that reflect their tough times.

I agree.

Recently, filmmakers have lost touch with this idea. They can't seem to wait to get their greedy hands on recent disasters or painful events. As soon as something horrible happens, they are licking their chops to exploit it. "W," though a decent movie, was made too soon. He's not even out of office for crying out loud. Soon after 9/11 we were swarmed with films about the event. Again, too soon. And they are still making them, or movies about terrorists, or some remake or retake of the Manchurian Candidate.

As for me, I could really use a good comedy. However, it seems that the art of comedy in film has gone bye bye. I can't remember the last time I saw a good, wholesome, (or halfway wholesome) funny film. I can't even remember the last smutty funny film. Yeah, there have been all the stupid slapstick films, which are fine I suppose, but where are the great comedies? The last great comic film I saw was Napoleon Dynamite. And although I do love that film dearly, it is sad that that film seems to be the last good original cinematic comedic offering we've had.

People need to laugh. People need to dream. That's why people make films and go to films. Besides the Harry Potter films, what film has given us a little faerie dust so we can fly away to Never Land, or to a galaxy far far away? Even Superhero movies are all going gross and vulgar thanks to Frank Miller. The last Batman movie, though excellently crafted, was just sorta depressing. I liked it when I saw it but I really don't have the urge to see it again. If it weren't for Ironman, I would be giving up on superhero movies altogether.

Even tried-and-true action genres are limping... I recently saw the latest installment of James Bond and I couldn't even muster the energy for a review. Well, here it is: It was a Bourne movie. For about five minutes, halfway through the movie, it was a Bond movie. Other than that it was a cacophony of endless close ups and tremendously noisy car chases. Not even a lick of heartless romance. And "Quantum Solace"? What kind of Bond title is that? What the heck does that even mean? Grade: C.

So because of the recent good film drought, Amber and I have decided to catch up on all the great films that we've wanted to see but haven't seen. Sullivan's Travels was our first and it did not disappoint. People don't make films like that anymore and that's just sad. Films are turning into big giant music videos with saturated colors with nary a still shot that lasts more than 3 seconds. Everything has to just move around, CONSTANTLY. God forbid they give an actor 10 seconds to manufacture a feeling, a sly look, a subtle change signifying an Epiphany, like say, when Cary Grant discovers that this rich old aunts have been poisoning the old geezers. What a great moment! Or what about those Catherine Hepburn eye gestures? Or what about that moment in A Love Affair to Remember when Cary sees the painting and realizes that he's been a poop-head? (Yes, I admit I love that flick.)

I'm sorry to cast such a downer on my favorite artistic genre, but film making these days seems to have creatively stagnated. Of course, this could be just me. You guys seen anything worth a darn lately? Any films that don't want to make you slice your wrists in nihilistic depression, or any films without some sort of political AGENDA? Filmmakers and actors need to quit thinking they are so darn important and get back to the business of making people dream, think, cry (good crying) and laughing. Tell us a dadgum story, for cryin' out loud.

You guys got any classic film suggestions? How bout favorite film moments? Acting performances?

Who Knew?

Who knew that Russia's new mandatory national diet of beans and bell peppers would change the world? Never underestimate the power and influence of natural gas.

Wacca.

Wacca.

Wacca.

Huh???? Number 1??? Tyler???

YAHOO! MOVIE TALK
Who Was Overlooked in the '100 Greatest Movie Character' List?
by Jonathan Crow   
December 2, 2008

Any time anyone compiles a "Best of" list they are practically begging for an argument. And British movie magazine Empire has thrown down the gauntlet by releasing its list of the 100 greatest movie characters of all time. Here are their choices for the top 25:

25. Yoda (Empire Strikes Back)
24. Ash (Evil Dead)
23. Harry Callahan (Dirty Harry)
22. Red (The Shawshank Redemption)
21. Michael Corleone (The Godfather series)
20. Forrest Gump (Forrest Gump)
19. Jules Winnfield (Pulp Fiction)
18. Travis Bickle (Taxi Driver)
17. Hans Gruber (Die Hard)
16. Neo (The Matrix trilogy)
15. Ferris Bueller (Ferris Bueller's Day Off)
14. The Terminator (The Terminator series)
13. Gollum (The Lord of the Rings trilogy)
12. John McClane (Die Hard series)
11. James Bond (007 series)
10. Vito Corleone (The Godfather I & II)
9. Ellen Ripley (Alien quadrology)
8. Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy)
7. The Dude (The Big Lebowski)
6. Indiana Jones (Indiana Jones series)
5. Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)
4. Han Solo (Star Wars trilogy)
3. The Joker (The Dark Knight)
2. Darth Vader (Star Wars series)
1. Tyler Durden (Fight Club)


My critique of this list: By Seth Ward

WHAT!!!!!!?????? Tyler Durden????? Number ONE???? OVER DARTH FRIGGIN VADER??????

NOT ----A ----- CHANCE.

Okay, he was a good character. Okay, it was a pretty cutting edge movie. Okay Brad Pitt is cool. Good actor. B+, at best. Enviable abs. But... OVER VITO CORLEONE? Are we talking about the same guy who starred in that film-abomination/dramatic-comedy, Legends of the Fall????

I don't even have the words for this lunacy. I could see putting him in AFTER or somewhere in the 50's, or maybe even in the 80's after Rooster in True Grit, or Clint Eastwood in Pale Rider, or Bob in What About Bob, or E.T., or Vincent or Jules in Pulp Fiction, or Harry Potter or George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life... or Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor... or John in Die Hard ...

But numero UNO??? I had to look up some smiling pics of Brad in that movie to see if he had bad teeth or something for the Brit's to make that blunder.

What do you guys think? Worthy of the number 1 slot??? I'm almost slightly sick over this one.

Fullness of Time

From the Message: Ephesians 1:10 " He set it all out before us in Christ, a long-range plan in which everything would be brought together and summed up in him, everything in deepest heaven, everything on planet earth."

I was never able to grasp the wonder of the incarnation until I was able to step back and view this verse in a new light. The incarnation was no arbitrary throw of the dice. God chose just the right the time to make things right. God let sin run its course, as a disease or a revolution must run its course, so that man would be certain that what he wanted to be- a god - would end in his ruin. To redeem him immediately might have left a "perhaps" to trouble mankind's peace. So we tried this notion of being a god thoroughly and failed miserably, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And when, somewhere in the super-consciousness of man, man realized that all attempts of being god were futile, God appeared to the Jews.

And just as God appeared to Abraham at the right moment, Christ came at the right moment. It changed the world forever. Not only was man no longer an enemy of God, Christ showed us that fishermen, tent-makers, slave, lame, deaf, blind, prostitutes and lepers were equally loved and valued by Him, not just the rich or elite. The Jews were teaching Love your neighbor as your self for a hundred years or so before, but it was the Lord Himself that gave wind to that notion and the world has never been the same.

So what I want to do this season of Advent is something I've wanted to do for a while. Survey the recorded ancient religions, philosophies, and cultures up to the arrival of the Lord. God becoming man is both simultaneously the most ludicrous and most believable idea that mankind has ever heard. No other religion teaches it. No other religious leader claims to have been God Himself while showing no signs of lunacy or evil. We believe that it was not invented, but rather it is inventing us. Just as any truth that has been veiled and then is revealed changes your course of action. The truth re-invents you. It sets you free, as Jesus taught us, and showed us.

I truly believe that all men who hear the nativity story want to believe the incarnation is true because if there is a God, he finally makes sense. Man can no longer ignore, fear, or despise a cold, uncaring God who watches us from afar, who knows nothing of our weakness and shows no compassion.

So I'd like to talk about what led up to that moment, and why the incarnation isn't ludicrous, but the most believable thing, if you believe there is a God.

It is not a blind leap of faith, but a step of faith that makes sense. As much sense as anything if you first believe that God made everything and still holds it together, which is a bigger step in my opinion.

So, it's a big task but it'll be good for me and might interested those of you interested in world religions and of making sense of it all.

Fullness of Time...

So we are entering into the Advent season here, friends, and last year I started (but did not finish) a series called "The Fullness of Time." Not to terribly original of a title, however, it is a subject that greatly interests me, and I should probably do a theological blog here soon lest I turn totally heathen. I just haven't been in the mood lately. Maybe that's because I'm really not going through a strong period of doubt. I find that I am most interested in theology when I'm experiencing some serious doubt. But that's just me...

However abbreviated some of the history in this series may be, I'm going for the third, babies.

I'll re-post the first two on the first of the first two weeks of December and post the third on the first of the third week before Christmas Eve. Whoo! That was a fun sentence!

Last year I had fully intended on finishing but the project turned out to be GI- ENORMOUS in scope. It really is too big for a blog and it was too much for a man that had so many irons in the fire at the time I could have.... ironed... a thousand Ironman... things.

I mean, my little short stories are pushing it. Btw, I am a horrendous hypocrite when it comes to long blogs. I usually gripe if I see a blog longer than a page-scroll and then I turn around and write a bazillion words about a walk in the park, or something about poopin, or my disdain for boner-pill commercials during ball games. (viagra moniker courtesy of Cach.)

Anywho... For you theology/history/Jesus lovers, and for those of you skeptical of Christianity, (Yeah Aaron McD., and John Forkner, I'm talking to you,) I think you'll enjoy it.

The Leftover-Turkey-and-Dressing's Road to Salvation.

I was five years old and strapped tightly in between two unbuckled men. Both men smelled like work. Not that smelly, b.o. kind of work, but the kind of work that smells like fall, earth, coffee and tractors.

We were just getting ready for an evening of thanksgiving leftovers (a night that had grown to be just as treasured as Thanksgiving itself) when my dad remembered that he needed to put a couple extra bales of hay out for a few of the milking cows on our farm which was located a few miles away from my grandparent’s house. My grandpa volunteered to go with him. They quickly asked if I wanted to go and though the smell of the reheated stuffing, turkey and mashed potatoes were making my stomach roar, I nodded enthusiastically.

I loved riding in that truck with my dad and grandpa. It clunked and bounced indestructibly through even the biggest holes in the road or field. Its engine roared and rattled everything in the car when shifting between first and third gears, and if you had coffee sitting in the cup-holder between the shifting of first and second gear, it was going to be spilled.

We had just soared over my favorite hill on the way back to my grandpa’s house and my stomach was still wheeling from the joy of that thrill, when my Grandfather and my Dad stopped talking. My dad downshifted and my grandfather’s hand stopped me from lunging forward as the truck slowed to a stationary idle in the middle of the gravel road at the bottom of the hill. I stretched my neck to see why we had stopped. I thought a stray cow or a deer might be the culprit since that sort of thing happened a lot where we lived. I couldn’t see anything at first and my dad didn’t honk like he usually did. The truck idled unevenly and my dad shifted to neutral and pressed the parking brake.

“Oh, what is this?” My dad said, annoyed.
“Awe, they’ll get out of the road in a second,” my grandpa Wayne responded and spit a stream of tobacco into a Styrofoam cup.
“I don’t know, Wayne. Maybe I better do something. That one old boy’s got a crowbar and he looks like he’s about to..."
“Hooo!” grandpa said and winced as if he himself had been hit.
“Yeah, he whacked him pretty good,” my dad sighed. "I'll be back in a second."
“Patrick…” said my Grandfather, preparing to warn my dad.

But before my grandpa could say, “be careful” it was too late; my dad was out of the truck and slamming the door behind him. I squirmed out of the seatbelt and peeked as far as I could over the dashboard.

My dad casually walked towards the two men in the middle of the road. Both men were bearded and looked about the same age as my Dad (in his thirties). One was small and skinny and was crawling on the ground while the bigger one was hitting him with a crowbar as he crawled.

Then came my Dad. I asked my Grandpa who they were and what my dad was going to do but my Grandpa simply spit again into his cup and said nothing. His eyes were glued to my dad as he approached the two men.

The headlights shone on the scene with a harsh and unapologetic light and I was suddenly scared for my dad. My dad started to talk to the man with the crowbar and the man yelled something at my dad and pointed towards our truck. I couldn’t hear anything else because the truck was idling so loud. While my dad continued to motion for the men to just let us pass, the man with the crowbar saw the other man on the ground trying to crawl away, and the man with the crowbar kicked the crawling man and reared his crowbar back for another whack.

My dad intervened. His hand caught the crowbar before it struck the crawling man and the larger man yanked it back. Then the big man took several wild swipes at my dad with the crowbar. I was surprised at how quick my dad was. It seemed like something he had done before.

“Well, sheeit,” my grandpa said and put his spit-cup on the dashboard. Just when my Grandfather put his other hand on the door handle to get out, my dad caught the swinging crowbar again, and for a few seconds it was a crowbar-tug-of war. Finally my dad gave a good yank and and the man lunged forward, spreading his legs as he struggled. Without pause, my dad kicked the man in the groin with his dirty, steel-toed work-boot. The man wailed, released his grip on the crowbar and crouched slowly to the ground.

My dad shook his head and threw the crowbar as hard as he could into the dark field that stretched to the left of us. Then, as if it was another chore on the farm, my dad grabbed the crouching man by the coat collar and the back of his jeans. He hoisted the man like a big sack of potatoes, drug him (somewhat gently) to the curb, and softly lobbed him out of the dirt road and into the shallow, grassy ditch, where the other man had crawled while my dad fought his assailant.

The beaten man took a last kick at my dad as he walked away from the grassy ditch, and my dad turned and pointed towards the house where the two men had probably started their fight. People where coming from the house and my dad motioned the approaching people to where the two men lay.

My dad opened the truck door and sat down in the driver’s seat.

My grandpa grabbed his spit-cup and shook his head in amazement.
“Well I’ll be durned, Patrick. Lord help the man who comes between you and your dinner,” he laughed and spit.

My Dad grinned and winked at my Grandpa and me. He revved the engine a few times, crammed the gear shifter into first gear, said, “Let’s eat,” and let off the clutch.

The next day, with a bible in his hand, my dad went and saw the two men. Within the hour, my dad knelt with the two men in the front yard, not 30 feet from where they had all been fighting over a crowbar the night before.

Both burly men were saved. The two burly brothers hugged and wept. Their anger gone, their souls saved. All thanks to God's saving grace woking through a leftover Thanksgiving dinner and an ex-marine-turned-Baptist-minister's hunger for it.

Thanksgiving Poem For Ya

This is one of my favorite Cummings poems. I set this to music in an E. E. Cummings art song set a few years ago on my doctoral recital.


i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)