Presbytery meeting again this week. Should be ok. I'll let you know things go. Here's a photo from the last presbytery meeting. That's me in the back with the flame thrower.
2.3.06
And the Award for the Most Irresistibly Juvenile Album Title Goes To...
Diskaholics Anonymous Trio, for thier album:
Weapons of Ass Destruction
Weapons of Ass Destruction
1.3.06
Things which mildly disturb me today:
1. Christians who refuse to call themselves Christians and use instead the term "follower of Jesus". Fair enough. But you realize when you say that everyone else is thinking "oh. you mean you're a Christian".
2. Churches which refuse to call themselves churches and instead call themselves "a community of Jesus followers". Fair enough but you realize when you say that the rest of us are all thinking "oh. You mean you're a church".
3. My own goatee which conceals my tiny, elfin chin.
4. The color of my office walls.
5. Winter.
6. The apostle Paul.
7. Waiting on books to arrive from amazon.
2. Churches which refuse to call themselves churches and instead call themselves "a community of Jesus followers". Fair enough but you realize when you say that the rest of us are all thinking "oh. You mean you're a church".
3. My own goatee which conceals my tiny, elfin chin.
4. The color of my office walls.
5. Winter.
6. The apostle Paul.
7. Waiting on books to arrive from amazon.
Still keepin' it real.
Yeah, I pay three bucks for a cup of java at the ultra-hip, frou-frou coffee clubs like everyone else these days. And yeah, I've developed a taste for the high brow, high priced, highly prized coffee beans found in only one farm in Columbia, grown by only one family in central America, chosen intuitively by only one species of small jungle cat in the rain forest, and available for a limited time at only the most exclusive coffee houses, or only at the most broadly expanding coffee chain. Organic, pea-berry, fair trade, hand pressed, no sugar, hold the cream, just the blessed juice of the bean, please barristta. Yeah, I am one of those guys, just like you.
But...
I haven't forgotten my roots. Sometimes, like this morning for instance, I buy my coffee for 89 cents at the same place I buy my gas. And I pump both myself. I put my hand to the communal coffee pot and fill my styrofoam cup with twenty ounces of the people's elixer of life. This is how my people have done it for generations, in the days when "tall" meant "tall" and "venti" meant "you ain't from around here are you, boy?"
So today I drink my 89 cent gas station coffee from a styrofoam cup. Today I drink with the truck drivers and the contractors, the plumbers and the electricians, the farmers and the men of every profession, fingertips thick with decades of real labor, and ask "who the hell puts a little cardboard skirt on a cup of coffee?" Today I drink with our grandpas, our fathers and our uncles Don and Dwayne, far too savy to fall for the marketing ploys of girly men in green aprons.
Cheap coffee, we are humbled by your unpretentious dignity. We are quickened by your caffinated simplicity. Today we lift our disposable cups to you.
But...
I haven't forgotten my roots. Sometimes, like this morning for instance, I buy my coffee for 89 cents at the same place I buy my gas. And I pump both myself. I put my hand to the communal coffee pot and fill my styrofoam cup with twenty ounces of the people's elixer of life. This is how my people have done it for generations, in the days when "tall" meant "tall" and "venti" meant "you ain't from around here are you, boy?"
So today I drink my 89 cent gas station coffee from a styrofoam cup. Today I drink with the truck drivers and the contractors, the plumbers and the electricians, the farmers and the men of every profession, fingertips thick with decades of real labor, and ask "who the hell puts a little cardboard skirt on a cup of coffee?" Today I drink with our grandpas, our fathers and our uncles Don and Dwayne, far too savy to fall for the marketing ploys of girly men in green aprons.
Cheap coffee, we are humbled by your unpretentious dignity. We are quickened by your caffinated simplicity. Today we lift our disposable cups to you.
27.2.06
A Great Opening Line of a Song:
song: Oceanographer's Choice
artist: The Mountain Goats
album: Talahassee
line: well a guy in a skeleton costume comes up to the guy in the superman costume, runs through him with a broad sword
artist: The Mountain Goats
album: Talahassee
line: well a guy in a skeleton costume comes up to the guy in the superman costume, runs through him with a broad sword
24.2.06
One Year Old
Hey people. The Blog turned one a couple of weeks ago and I didn't notice. I've actually been thinking about shutting it down. Even since I got all "productive" with my time, I just don't blog as much. We'll see. Maybe I'll consolidate with others of you and we can do a joint blog posting thing? Maybe not? I dunno.
But in the meantime, here are some ideas for posts I'd like to write if I had the time:
the difference between nirvana, zen and shalom
that Velvet Elvis book review I've been meaning to write
an article called the four resurrections of johnny cash
a contrast of the philosophies of the nature of humanity and history as seen in the 2005 works "I'm wide awake and it's morning" by Bright Eyes and "Illinoise" by Sufjan Stevens. (Bright Eyes' work is mostly Nietzchian with respect to human nature and the cyclical nature of history, while Sufjan's work is more eschatologically oriented, meaning it sees a forward trajectory to history and his view of human nature is Augustinian)
sanctification & pharmeceuticals
Ancient Mesopotamian & Hebrew Creation Accounts: Was Moses a Deconstructionist?
Authoritative Deconstruction: A Legitimate Apologetic for a Post-Whatever World?
Female and Male as the Image of God
Foucault was right about language being a power play and that's ok for the Christian to embrace because afterall, our God is a God who speaks and our Savior is the WORD incarnate.
Submission as liberation
Means of Grace as a way of life
Maybe a church should measure it's effectiveness by how many programs it cuts each year.
Maybe parachurch is not a legitmitate biblical category or maybe it is but is usally done poorly or maybe not poorly by not thoughtfully or maybe churches should just put up the cash and bring all the parachurch guys on staff so they don't have to raise thier own money and then everyone will be better off.
Why triangles are the answer to everything
Why the local church is the hope of the world
John Frame- Revolutionary Thinker, or Master of the Obvious?
Matt Birt: A Profile in Staying Where you're at and doing something about why where you're at sucks
That's all for now.
But in the meantime, here are some ideas for posts I'd like to write if I had the time:
the difference between nirvana, zen and shalom
that Velvet Elvis book review I've been meaning to write
an article called the four resurrections of johnny cash
a contrast of the philosophies of the nature of humanity and history as seen in the 2005 works "I'm wide awake and it's morning" by Bright Eyes and "Illinoise" by Sufjan Stevens. (Bright Eyes' work is mostly Nietzchian with respect to human nature and the cyclical nature of history, while Sufjan's work is more eschatologically oriented, meaning it sees a forward trajectory to history and his view of human nature is Augustinian)
sanctification & pharmeceuticals
Ancient Mesopotamian & Hebrew Creation Accounts: Was Moses a Deconstructionist?
Authoritative Deconstruction: A Legitimate Apologetic for a Post-Whatever World?
Female and Male as the Image of God
Foucault was right about language being a power play and that's ok for the Christian to embrace because afterall, our God is a God who speaks and our Savior is the WORD incarnate.
Submission as liberation
Means of Grace as a way of life
Maybe a church should measure it's effectiveness by how many programs it cuts each year.
Maybe parachurch is not a legitmitate biblical category or maybe it is but is usally done poorly or maybe not poorly by not thoughtfully or maybe churches should just put up the cash and bring all the parachurch guys on staff so they don't have to raise thier own money and then everyone will be better off.
Why triangles are the answer to everything
Why the local church is the hope of the world
John Frame- Revolutionary Thinker, or Master of the Obvious?
Matt Birt: A Profile in Staying Where you're at and doing something about why where you're at sucks
That's all for now.
23.2.06
Back in Action!
Sorry folks. There for a while, the FP vanished from the blogosphere. Not quite sure what the deal was with that.
22.2.06
20.2.06
15.2.06
Playing With Water
Here's Sam at Cosi playing in the water. Doesn't Leonard Cohen have a song about a blue raincoat or something? Somebody check that out for me.
Anyway, I think this photo turned out nice. Charity snapped it.
Anyway, I think this photo turned out nice. Charity snapped it.
Jack the Artist
Here is a picture of Jack painting a ceramic dinosaur at a pottery filed trip he took recently with one of the homeschooling co-ops we participate in.
Sam the Stunt Man
Here's a picture of Sam precariously balanced on the seat of his tricycle holding on with just one hand.
Any good mother would instinctively rescue him from certain calamity. Any proud father instinctively reaches for the digital camera.
Any good mother would instinctively rescue him from certain calamity. Any proud father instinctively reaches for the digital camera.
Jack the Actor
In this photo, Jack is acting like a dinosaur. He likes acting. Recently he declared himself a director and began work on a film entitled "Murmur Dog". Jack not only acts in the film, but he also wrote it and directs it. He's creative and ambitious.
Jokes Told by Framian-Presuppositional Indie Rock Fans:
Here's one I made up last night at a concert:
Guy walks out on stage. Says:
"Hello, Situational Perspective! We are Existential Perspective! This next song is called Normative Perspective! "
This joke is mostly for Dru Johnson. But I don't think he'll like it.
Guy walks out on stage. Says:
"Hello, Situational Perspective! We are Existential Perspective! This next song is called Normative Perspective! "
This joke is mostly for Dru Johnson. But I don't think he'll like it.
10.2.06
Ha!
An hilarious article from the onion. Reminds me of what a professor of mine once said. Something like this, "It is a sin to preach in such a way that makes God's word appear irrelevant. It is also a sin to do it in such a way that makes his word appear boring".
8.2.06
I AM by Robert Rottet
I Am
I.
I am the forgotten song emerging in you
I communed with your soul when your grandmother sang
My verses are in your veins
my rhythm courses through your heart
Open your mouth and let me out
I will fly back to the place of your birth
I will gather visions of school yards
and adolescent games
I will cross the ocean to the home of your ancestors
I will summon their language within your body
You will hear the echoes of revolution and war
You will feel the passion of love and release
You will know the peace of joy and bravery
Its all here
inside of me
I am the song
II.
I am blues
I am jazz
I am rock and roll
I am Muddy Waters singing "I be’s troubled" on the front porch of
a cabin on Stovall Plantation
I tell you "I never be’s sasafied"
and you say the sorrow sounds sweeter
than sweet potato pie
I am John Coltrane with my tenor sax on a good night in the
Harlem Beat Kitchen
Miles is playing the sad notes
Bird is playing the pretty ones
and I am burning a hole in this ceiling
Art and Monk are sitting there with their mouths wide open saying
"Boy what got into you?"
and I say "No, what got out of me?"
because I got the heroine out of my veins
I am loud amplifiers, headbands, costumes, platform shoes and yes
I can play this guitar
behind my back
and when I’ve strangled every sound out of this Stratocaster
that you couldn’t imagine
and she is destroyed because her message was too wonderful to
hear
and burned like a witch
then you say
"He was our voice and our savior"
III.
I am bald like the eagle
and I glide high above
with succinct movements
exuding regality in all that I am
I screech and my voice
is swallowed in this canyon
where I believe myself to be
king
You admire me
but you smile a smug smile
knowing that one day
the sky will become a mirror
IV.
I am fat and spoiled
like the squirrel who plunders the moldy bread and bird seed
that my mother has left for the blue jays
In the thrill of my theft
I wander into the street
to receive rebuke from an angry Monte Carlo
panic stricken
I turn both to the left and to the right
forgetting my origin and name
V.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made
I am every man and every woman
(no, this is not Walt Whitman)
and I am the LORD’s creation
I am the forgotten song that is emerging in you
I am the inner-city and the country
the soy beans and the section-8-government housing
I am the earth, wind, sky and stars
I am the eagle
I am the squirrel
blues, jazz, rock and roll
rich, poor, wise and otherwise
I am american
I am the world
I am
VI.
I AM the I AM
from the beginning
(as you call it)
and to the end
I am not something you can figure out
with your finite mind
I am very near you
and will never be far
Surrender to me
love me
I am the LORD
I.
I am the forgotten song emerging in you
I communed with your soul when your grandmother sang
My verses are in your veins
my rhythm courses through your heart
Open your mouth and let me out
I will fly back to the place of your birth
I will gather visions of school yards
and adolescent games
I will cross the ocean to the home of your ancestors
I will summon their language within your body
You will hear the echoes of revolution and war
You will feel the passion of love and release
You will know the peace of joy and bravery
Its all here
inside of me
I am the song
II.
I am blues
I am jazz
I am rock and roll
I am Muddy Waters singing "I be’s troubled" on the front porch of
a cabin on Stovall Plantation
I tell you "I never be’s sasafied"
and you say the sorrow sounds sweeter
than sweet potato pie
I am John Coltrane with my tenor sax on a good night in the
Harlem Beat Kitchen
Miles is playing the sad notes
Bird is playing the pretty ones
and I am burning a hole in this ceiling
Art and Monk are sitting there with their mouths wide open saying
"Boy what got into you?"
and I say "No, what got out of me?"
because I got the heroine out of my veins
I am loud amplifiers, headbands, costumes, platform shoes and yes
I can play this guitar
behind my back
and when I’ve strangled every sound out of this Stratocaster
that you couldn’t imagine
and she is destroyed because her message was too wonderful to
hear
and burned like a witch
then you say
"He was our voice and our savior"
III.
I am bald like the eagle
and I glide high above
with succinct movements
exuding regality in all that I am
I screech and my voice
is swallowed in this canyon
where I believe myself to be
king
You admire me
but you smile a smug smile
knowing that one day
the sky will become a mirror
IV.
I am fat and spoiled
like the squirrel who plunders the moldy bread and bird seed
that my mother has left for the blue jays
In the thrill of my theft
I wander into the street
to receive rebuke from an angry Monte Carlo
panic stricken
I turn both to the left and to the right
forgetting my origin and name
V.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made
I am every man and every woman
(no, this is not Walt Whitman)
and I am the LORD’s creation
I am the forgotten song that is emerging in you
I am the inner-city and the country
the soy beans and the section-8-government housing
I am the earth, wind, sky and stars
I am the eagle
I am the squirrel
blues, jazz, rock and roll
rich, poor, wise and otherwise
I am american
I am the world
I am
VI.
I AM the I AM
from the beginning
(as you call it)
and to the end
I am not something you can figure out
with your finite mind
I am very near you
and will never be far
Surrender to me
love me
I am the LORD
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