Joe Biden

Way back when the democratic primary was raging on and on, back before the field was narrowed down to Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama, I went out of my way to watch a couple of the primary debates.  During the debates I was able to make observations and formulate opinions to inform my participation in our system of democracy, the recounting of which I will spare the reader as it falls outside of my current purpose in writing.  All but one.  I like Joe Biden.  

I learned this while watching these debates.  Everyone else seemed so uptight, or calculated, or desperate to mark themselves out as a viable alternative to Hillary or Barak.  But not Joe Biden.  he seemed utterly relaxed in the midst of the verbal warfare.  More than relaxed, actually.  He seemed to be having FUN!  He was clearly enjoying it!  While others were trying so hard to sound presidential, Biden would occasionally drop some one liner or make some statement so sincere and genuinely oblivious to propriety and appearances, that it brought a momentary parting of the clouds of bullshit and a single radiant beam of common sense would shine down and light upon his podium.  A few years back the republican candidate Pat Buchanan had a similar pathos in his debate appearances.   I think the key is that guys like Biden and Buchanan never really anticipate getting their party's nomination so they are left free to speak as they wish during their candidacies.  This is probably true to some degree of guys like Dennis Cucinich and Ron Paul as well.  But there's one huge difference.  Cucinich and Paul have no sense of humor.  

Biden may very well prove to be a competent vice president.  Who knows?  But I am confident that he would bring a refreshing candor to the office, that's for sure.  Click the title of this post to watch a clip from the debates that illustrates my point.

Sarah Palin

For those of you who know my wife and me and our (three-soon-to-be-four) children, it's probably not too much of a stretch to imagine why there are things about Sarah Palin which resonate with us deeply.  First of all, she is a mother of five and we of course really appreciate large families.  Secondly, she can shoot, kill and field dress a moose without ever compromising her womanly femininity.   This quality is one of the very first which drew me to my wife Charity! (see the post below).  Thirdly, she has far too little experience to qualify for an elected position in the executive branch of our federal government in the currently popular sense of "qualified".  But I love the idea of a woman who was very recently a mayor of a smaller town being catapulted by circumstances unforeseen into a position as weighty as the vice presidency. 

We are after all a Republic.  So if I remember correctly from Mr. Gibson's 9th grade Civics Class at good ol' Greenville High School, the whole point of a republic is that normal men and women in order to serve their nation, take time out of their regular vocations to go and represent the interests of the people in government for a time.  When that time has ended, another election is held and the power to represent the people is redistributed based on the will of the voters.  The "politician" then returns to his or her prior vocation and continues life more or less as usual.  I really like that idea.  And while I know that occupying an office in the executive branch is a serious and weighty calling, requiring a great deal of skill, insight, integrity, and wisdom, I also believe that there are many people in various walks of life who have the skills, insight, integrity, and wisdom to serve adequately in the role of vice-president or even president.  I'll stop short of suggesting Palin is one of those people, because I simply don't know.  But I'm not in agreement with the line of thinking that says "oh this person hasn't been in politics long enough to have the necessary experience".  In fact, I kind of think that's the way it's suppose to be.  

Dear President Bush & Congress, Instead of a 750 billion dollar bail out for banks...

How about a 749 billion dollar bail out for banks and a 1 billion dollar bail out for the homeless, or for urban public schools, or  for aids or autism research?  I mean only if you have a billion to spare, of course. 

With all due respect to the governor of Alaska...

...my girl was a bible-thumpin, prolife, gun totin', baby havin' evanglelical multi-tasker before bible-thumpin, prolife, gun totin', baby havin' evangelical, multi-tasking was cool.  

Update on Sam

Sam has now had three weeks of treatment and so far he seems to be responding ok. Before the treatment began Sam would not walk up the stairs himself at all. He would either wait to be carried or would just not go up to his room. Since his treatment began we've been keeping track of the number of times he goes up the stairs on his own and at his own initiation. That number has been steadily increasing week by week, which is encouraging. Even now, when he does climb the stairs, it is a whole body effort for him. Both hands holding the railing and pulling as hard as he can while his legs do all they can do to lift his body. And I think they really don't know if the perceived improvement is due to increased energy level or due to the medication actually minimizing the affects of the active disease on his muscles. Still a very frustrating process with so many questions and so few answers. But it is something. Something is happening. And that's good.

kickin' it old school

Hope. Sort of.

Twenty-one year old Cejudo wins gold.

"I was born and raised in the U.S. and I don't forget that. As much as I love Mexican heritage, I'm American first and foremost. The U.S. is a land of opportunity and you choose your own path." - Henry Cejudo

This son of Mexican illegals won the gold for the USA in men's freestyle, today. He's an amazing athlete with an amazing story. Wednesday brings two more opportunities for the US to medal in freestyle wrestling when Doug Schwab (former Iowa Hawkeye) and Ben Askren (former Missouri Tiger) compete in Beijing. Schwabb and Askren present an interesting study of stylistic differences in thier sport.

Schwab is relatively typical of Brands/Gable/Hawkeye trained wrestlers, who tend to prefer a straight ahead, aggressive (nearly abusive) style of competing. Europeans hate it. I love it. Askren on the otherhand is known for his unorthdox approach to the sport. He does things you aren't suppose to do, and violates fundamental principles. One might think that Askren's style is that of a natural whose athleticism rewards scrambling and improvisation. This however is not the case. Askren consciously developed this radical style after entering college and realizing that his modest athleticism left him virtually unable to keep up at the division one level of NCAA wrestling. Necessity is the mother of invention, so Askren reinvented himself leading to a couple of NCAA titles and a spot on the Olympic team. If you catch any of his matches on tv or the internet, expect the unexpected.

Does China Permit Freedom of Religion?

Dear International Olympic Committee,

Now that Michael Phelps has achieved the unbelievable, winning a buh-zillion gold medals and shattering multiple world records, it would seem he has no where else to go in the sport of swimming.  There's no one else to beat.  No more records to shatter, for this guy and he's only 23.  So here's what I propose.  If Phelps wants to keep competing in swimming, that's fine but there are some stipulations which now must be imposed.  

1.  First, no more super-fast, high-tech, rubberized swimming suit.  From now on he competes in overalls, snow boots and a carhart jacket.  

2.  Second, enough with the World Records.  From now on he's only allowed to set Other-World records.  As soon as NASA confirms the presence of liquid water on Mars, our first priority should be to get Phelps to the red planet by any means necessary.  

3.  Third, he has nothing to prove by continuing to race people.  We all know Phelps is faster than all other people.  Now the other lanes of the pool will be occupied by sharks.   (Chum may be utilized according to the discretion of the host nation).  

4.  Fourth, it may be that Phelps has simply exhausted the limitations of "water" as an athletic medium.  Should the previous three stipulations fail to provide him with a competitive challenge, Michael will henceforth be required to compete in swimming pools filled with alternative substances.  For instance foam packaging pellets, dead batteries, or quarters.  

Latest Dr's Report on Sam...

Sam's Rheumatologist called tonight with the MRI results. They saw a lot of increased edema in the muscles which is what they expected to see. There is no way at this point to tell what muscle is recoverable and what muscle is not recoverable. The doctor rates the severity of Sam's disease as an 8.5 on a 1-10 scale. Severity does not necessarily suggest anything about the long term prognosis or about the liklihood of a good response to treatment. She also said while some kids respond quickly to treatment, we shouldn't get too discouraged if we don't see signs of improvement in Sam for a couple of months. Charity asked her if he would be able to play sports in highschool. She said, "He won't be an olympic athlete" which seems to me to suggest that she anticipates long term, unrecoverable damage of the sort that would cause some permanent physical limitations. (So I guess your records are safe for now, Phelps).

Every new bit of news we recieve - each test result and phone call- seems to dim the lights a little lower and take a bit more wind out of my sails.

__________________

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

-from William Cowper's God Moves in a Mysterious Way

from the mouths of babes...

One of the side effects of Sam's medication is pretty extreme moodiness. Think of a four year old with roid-rage. That's basically what he's going through. He's happy, sweet, loving, angry, sad, grumpy and happy again- all in a matter of minutes. As hard as it is to watch him go through the emotional turmoil all this brings, there have been some good quotes which have come out of it. These are all things Sam has said in just the last few days, each of which I find interesting for various reasons. I'll do them in order of my favorite:

5. Mommy, I love that baby in your belly.
4. Mommy, I love you just because there's a baby in your belly.

* These two quotes bring joy to our hearts! He really is such a sweet kid who has always gone out of his way to give affection. Already he loves his little sibling, and loves his mother for carrying the child. 

3. Can me and Jack punch each other?

* This question was asked in all seriousness and with complete calmness and sincerity. I had brought home the game Rock em Sock em Robots for the boys to play together- thinking it might help dispel some boyhood aggression. Jack & Sam were very impressed with the game. I mean, Robots that Punch each other until their heads pop off? Come on. That's Awesome. But Sam of course, (feeling grumpy at the time) wanted to know if he and his big brother could slug it out for real. At least he asked first. 

2. I want to be mean to somebody.

*This confession was offered up recently (I think it was at the dinner table). There was no context. No conflict. No yelling or crying. Just a calm, rational expression of his desire to inflict bodily harm on another human being. To which I confessed feeling the exact same desire and explained that's why daddy does Jiu Jitsu twice a week. Then I told him that if he wants, when he's older he can learn boxing, or wrestling or jiu-jitsu if he'd like. Because those are sports where it's okay to be "mean" to somebody. He was satisfied with that. (And as they say in my jiu jitsu gym after teaching a particularly painful maneuver- "It's not mean. It's jiu Jitsu.") 

1. I'm sad because of grown ups.

* This was at the hospital immediately after receiving medication in the most uncomfortable manner possible. (Think "going in the out door"). He burst into tears and was crying like his heart was broken. We were trying to figure out what was upsetting him, as it's not suppose to be a painful procedure. And he finally offered up between sobs "I'm sad because of grown ups!" Yes indeed, little buddy. 

[Also, Sam gave me a couple of good ideas for the working title of my memoirs, which are to be published posthumously. "Sad Because of Grown Ups" or "Can We Punch Each Other?" Both of these will work,  I suppose. Maybe I'll let my Estate determine the final title.]

Three in a Million

Last night I got out the kids' expandable, spring loaded tunnel fort and set it up on the dining room table.  It's blue.  And looks like an owl.  Which is hard to imagine if you've not actually seen it, because owls are neither blue nor tunnel shaped, and are (almost never) spring loaded.   Picking up our , blue-eyed boy I slid him head first into the fabric cylinder.  Legs straight, arms at sides, body still but eyes darting.  He listened to the clunks, bonks, and bleeps fuzzing out of the speakers of our emac.  At four or five years old, it's an ancient machine when measured by the standards of an industry that survives by way of planned obsolescence.  We hope it survives a little longer.  It holds all of our photos.  Which are really just 1's and 0's.  But to us they are memories.  It's always hard to imagine that it's just 1's and 0's when you're looking at the photos.  There's one of Charity holding our newborn daughter on her first day home from the hospital.  They both look so tired.  Being born, giving birth.  Such hard work.  

For over a year our middle child Sam has exhibited a strange rash on his fingers, knees, elbows, toes and face.  Multiple trips to our pediatrician yielded little in the way of a solution.  Initial diagnosis was eczema.  The treatments didn't seem to help.  Soon thereafter it seems Sam began to grow weaker physically.  It wasn't too apparent at first, but in hindsight we can see it. Eventually the problem became undeniable, especially when we observed him playing with other children his own age, and as we watched his little sister grow and develop and play.  At first the doctor suspected muscular dystrophy.  We were elated when the test results came back negative.  

Now it seems we have a diagnosis.  Juvenile Dermatomyostis.  It is a three in a million disease. The good news is that most children respond well to the treatments and the disease can usually be sent into remission.  Sometimes it never comes back.  It is a very serious disease however.  In the 1960's the mortality rate for JDM was 30%.  In the 1970's that rate dropped to 10% as better treatment strategies were developed.  Today the number is fortunately down around 1%.

"Almost never fatal"  It's one of those sentences that jumps off the page and grabs you round the neck.  It's good news, right?  It's good news that the disease your son has is "almost never" fatal.  1%.  That's one in a hundred.  How can you not be encouraged by odds like that?  Paint a penny blue.  Put it in a jar with 99 others.  Close your eyes and pick one.  Who wouldn't take those odds?  

After several seconds, I slid Sam out of the big, blue owl.  (No chords to cut this time).  We talked about it.  "Now that's sort of what it will be like.  We can practice again if you'd like.  And remember, Daddy will be right there beside you the whole time, ready for when you come out". So later today Charity and I are taking Sam back to the hospital for an MRI.  Because we're expecting again, Charity can't be in the room with him, so I'm going to do it.  I can't imagine having an MRI at just four-years old (old for a computer, young for a boy).  Hopefully our practice round last night on the dining room table will take the edge off of the fear.  I don't know how to calculate the odds on something like that.     

don't call it a comeback...

After much time, I've decided to resurrect the old blog with a new focus and a new commitment and a new header. Stay tuned.

Here's my contribution to your quality of life...

"New technology links people over greater distances, but cuts into face-to-face meeting time.
The number of people who say they have no one to talk to about important matters has more than doubled, according to a new study by sociologists at Duke University and the University of Arizona.
Increased use of the Internet, along with the number of hours people are spending at work, are factors contributing to a drastic decline in the number of close friends that Americans have.
The findings are published in the June 2006 issue of the journal American Sociological Review."



Turn off your damn computer and go make a new friend. Maybe someone with a face that doesn't require a monitor and a keyboard to talk to. It's been a pleasure posting. And I've enjoyed the interaction. This blog is done.

Stay funky.

sleepy girls

Willie Neslon's ecclesiology is better than most evangelicals'.

Nelson seen here demonstrating his one point plan for church growth and revitalization. Hooray, Willie!

She thinks the fireworks were just for her.

Leonora Illuminata, 19.5 inches, 6 lbs 11
"Ella" was born Monday morning, July 3rd at 7:20 AM. Everyone is doing well.
We all need sleep. Except Ella. She's sleeping great.

Best Name for a Book I've Heard in a Long Time!

Subjective artists are one-eyed, but objective artists are blind.
- Georges Rouault

Recording 6/10/06

Recording 6/10/06

Helping the Poor is Fun.

Here is a great post from KDNY on his blog.

Another good one...

Boyish Imagination

Douglas Wilson

Part of the legacy we have (if you want to call it that) from the Romantic movement is the idea that discipline and imagination go ill together. Creativity and imagination must burble forth spontaneously from the artistic heart, we think. However, the more we have encouraged this notion, the uglier our surroundings get. Something is wrong somewhere.

Because we think that discipline and imagination cannot be friends, we therefore choose between them. We opt for discipline, as most Christians do, rejecting imagination, or we embrace imagination, saying farewell to the discipline. It rarely occurs to us to consider the possibility of feeding, nourishing and disciplining the imagination in the light of Scripture. C.S. Lewis observed this tendency when he said of much modern art and literature that it was "mere puddles of spilled sensibility or reflection." He saw that it is often the case that greater care and work goes into low-brow art. But, he warned, "Do not misunderstand. The high-brow productions may, of course, reveal a finer sensibility and profounder thought. But a puddle is not a work, whatever rich wines or oils or medicines may have gone into it."†
Boys have a vivid imaginative life. Boys also require a good bit of discipline. It should not be surprising that one of the boyish attributes needing discipline is consequently the imagination. When this is done right, our sons will grow up into very effective culture warriors. But when this is neglected, boys drift into dangerous territory. Without instruction and discipline, a vivid imagination becomes a hothouse for all kinds of sin. A hunger for easy glory can become an excuse for indolent daydreaming, and of course, when a boy is sexually undisciplined, having a vivid imagination is the last thing he needs.
Because of this, many Christian parents have simply opted to suppress or starve the imaginative life, apparently on the theory that if there is no imagination there will be no imaginative sinning. This is quite true, but it is true in the same sense as when children aren't given any food, they will escape eating disorders—because they are dead. When discipline is chosen over imagination, the result is a disciplined life, what is left of it.
Discipline of the imagination is positive, not negative. It is not applied by spanking unimaginative bottoms. Rather, boys are taught to discipline this aspect of their hearts and minds through being taught the beauty of the gospel, the power of the gospel, and how far God intends the effects of the gospel to extend.
The story of the gospel is a glorious story. We do not tell our children about it because we think of the gospel as a set of propositions in the sky, not a series of great deliverances fought and accomplished on Earth.
We start where Christians must always start, with the story about the seed of the woman triumphing over the seed of the serpent. We tell the story of Jesus Christ, as Scripture does, with our Lord in the role of the dragon slayer. The serpent in the first book of the Bible is also found in the last book, where he is described as that ancient serpent. He is the devil, the murderer from the beginning, crushed under the heel of the great son of Eve. God destroyed him who had the power of death, that is, the devil. Christ triumphed over the principalities and powers, humiliating them deeply. Christ is the archtype of all dragon-slayers, the archtype of all giant killers. As He put it, when He bound the strong man, He stripped him of all his panoply. Christ defeated the devil and made off with his armor.
But He did not do this so that we could sit and watch. We are to watch, consider, imitate, and then take care to tell our sons the stories about the wars. We always begin with the war as won by Christ, but we remember that He commanded us, in our turn, to preach the gospel to every creature, to disciple all the nations, and throw down every enemy that sets himself against the course of the gospel.
The saints have been doing this for a long time. And this is why we tell our sons the story of Beowulf and how he killed the twisted descendents of Cain, and then how he gave his life killing the dragon. This is why we tell stories about St. George and the dragon. This is why we are to talk about great King Alfred, fighting off heathen invaders. And this is even why we read to wide-eyed boys the wonderful story of Jim, who allowed that he would blow Israel Hand's brains out. We tell the great story of Shasta, who turned back to face the lion. We must read The Lord of the Rings to our sons, more than once.
But our lack of imagination has us by the throat. We fuss and bother about this. Treasure Island is a work of fiction, we mutter. The Horse and His Boy is a work of fiction about a nonexistent world, for crying out loud. St. George is probably not a historically verifiable incident. And Gandalf is a wizard.
I can think of no better or truer reply to all this than to paraphrase that of Puddleglum when he was confronted with a similar argument. Fine. These are all works of fiction. But they tell a truer story—and far more real—than the empty, cavernous, and very dark world in which many parents want their hollow-souled children to live.

Word for word the best advice I ever read about raising boys.

Future Men

Douglas Wilson

As much as it may distress us, our boys are future men.

I was once leading a seminar for teachers at our Christian school and, in the course of discussion, I mentioned that many of the girls in the school would, within a few short years, be adult women and would take their place in our midst. The teachers heard all this with aplomb, but when I went on to say that within a few short years the boys they were instructing would be lawyers, airline pilots, pastors, etc. the looks on the faces of the assembled teachers ranged from concern to mild panic. Boys take a lot of faith.
This is good because the presence or absence of faith reveals whether or not we have a biblical doctrine of our future. Unbelief is always anchored to the present, while faith looks at that which is unseen. But even here we only get half the picture. Too often we think that faith only looks at unseen heavenly things, but this truncated approach is really the result of an incipient gnosticism. In the Bible, faith includes the ability to see that which is unseen because it is still future. According to the text, Abraham rejoiced to see the day of Christ, not the day when he, Abraham, would go to heaven. Faith conquers kingdoms, faith stops the mouths of lions, faith turns armies to flight, and faith brings boys up to a mature and godly masculinity.
But another qualification must be added. The faith exhibited by wise parents of boys is the faith of a farmer, or a sculptor, or anyone else engaged in the work of shaping unfolding possibilities. It is not the faith of someone waiting around for lightning to strike; it is the faith of someone who looks at the present and sees what it will become—through grace and good works.
Countless examples may be multiplied from any given day in the life of a small boy. Say a boy breaks a chair because he was jumping on it from the bunk bed. Unbelief sees the cost of replacing the chair. Faith sees aggressiveness and courage, both of which obviously need to be channeled and disciplined. Suppose a boy gets into a fight protecting his sister. Unbelief sees the lack of wisdom that created a situation that could have been easily avoided; faith sees an immature masculinity that is starting to assume the burden of manhood.
Unbelief squashes; faith teaches. Faith takes a boy aside, and says that this part of what you did was good, while that other part of what you did got in the way. “This is how to do it better next time.”
This issue of fighting provides a good example of how necessary such distinctions are. Of course parents do not want to encourage fighting in their sons. But this is not the only item on the menu. Neither do they want to encourage abdication and cowardice. There are times when men have to fight. It follows that there will be times when boys have to learn how to fight, how to walk away, how to turn the other cheek, when to turn the other cheek, and when to put them up. If boys don’t learn, men won’t know. And boys will not learn unless their fathers teach.
When Theodore Roosevelt was at Harvard, he taught Sunday School for a time at Christ Church, until he was dismissed. A boy showed up one Sunday with a black eye. He admitted he had been fighting, and on a Sunday too. He told the future President that a bigger boy had been pinching his sister, and so he fought him. TR told him that he had done perfectly right and gave him a dollar. The vestrymen thought this was a bit much, and so they let their exuberant Sunday school teacher go.
Unbelief cannot look past the surface. If there was any sin involved, unbelief sees only the sin. Faith sees what was turned aside to the service of sin and seeks to turn it back again. Sin is parasitic and cannot function without some good attributes that it seeks to corrupt. Consequently, faith must distinguish that which must be preserved and developed and that which must be abandoned as sin.
In addition, faith also sees the godliness in what many pietists have come to call sin. At the beginning of his life, a boy does not know what century he was born in, and consequently exhibits to many of his politically correct and aghast elders some of the same traits exhibited by the boyhood chums of Sennacherib and Charlemagne. He doesn’t know any better—yet. But in our day, many of these created masculine traits are drilled out of him by the time he is ten. Faith resists this ungodly process, and defines sin by the Scriptures, and not by pietist traditions.
So faith is central in bringing up boys, but it is important to remember that the faith is not faith in the boy. It is faith in God, faith in His promises, faith in His wisdom. Faith concerns the boy, and the boy can see that it concerns him. Parents are to believe God for their sons, which is a very different thing than believing their sons.
Faith is not wishful thinking; faith apprehends the promises of God found in Scripture. “The children of thy servants shall continue, and their seed shall be established before thee” (Ps. 102:28). Faith sees a son as established, and the work of faith goes on to establish him. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
God is the One who places a particular boy in a particular home. And He does so in order that those parents who believe and obey Him might come to delight in a wise son. “My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine. Yea, my reins shall rejoice, when thy lips speak right things” (Prov. 23:15-16).

Buckeye Wrestlers Make U.S. World Team.

whatsthebuzztellmewhatsahappenin'

1. The Annual Exodus is under way at the church. Each year between June and Septmeber we lose a bunch of people mostly due to job changes, graduation, marriage, moving, that sort of thing. Our church draws lots of twenty and thirty somethings which is a very traqnsient demongraphic, and given that most of our people are also quite educated, it means they are at the beginning of thier careers and are looking to move on, move up, or move away. It's a pretty bittersweet experience, as we hate to see peopel go for two reasons. First, because we like them! We grow close to people and it's always hard to say goodbye. Second, because we are still trying to reach and maintain critical mass with respect to congregation size at our new plant. Everything is two steps forward and one step back. But it's also very exciting to see ho God is moving people into positions of leadership and service alover the world (literally!) from our little congregation right here in central city Columbus. We get about 12 to 24 months with people at our church and in that time we fill them with the gospel as quickly as we can and try to give people a radically christ centered and grace centered lense through which to view all of life! So when people leave here, they think they are going to leave to be policemen, nurses, attorneys, mothers and teachers, students and doctors, scholars and astro-physicists. But they're only partly right. What they don't suspect is that they aren't leaving as much as being sent. And we're sending them as missionaries to the corners of the earth, with a radically grace centered perspective on the world that is absolutely upside down and backwards compared to every other view. At least that's what we're trying to do. Pray God brings new friends to us in the coming year even as he blesses our current friends in their new vocations and locations.
2. Charity is due in just six short weeks. However it seems she may have a disorder we struggled with in our first pregnancy. It wasn't very fun and is potentially dangerous for mother and child, though not so much if caught early and treated. This could bump up the delivery date quite a bit. So there's that.
3. Having our bathroom remodeled, our hot water heater replaced, new porch light put in, storm doors installed, uncovering the floors in the upstairs bedrooms to reveal beautiful hardwood floors some interior design genius covered forty years ago with grey linoleum tile, gave the dog a bath, re-organized my closet, some good people from afore mentioned church came oiver to landscape (while I napped!) and to help with the upstairs floors, and it got really really hot out this week.
4. A brilliant business idea I recently heard- For sale on hot summer days at various out door sporting events: frozen jock straps.
5. I have one beer left in the fridge. It's a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. My mother is always a little disappointed and uncomfortable when she comes to the house and I have beer in the fridge. I'm going to go drink my beer now. But what she doesn't realize is that every beer in the refridgerator is one beer not in my belly. Alas! I must go drink my last beer. Not because I want to. I'm only doing it for my mom. You understand.


"The selling of bad beer is a crime against Christian love." -- Law, the City of Augsburg, 13th Century

The 80's Were Totally Awesome.

I married the hot one.

Star Wars at COSI.

more photos from COSI

This must be why God invented the internet...

so hilarious high-jinks like these can be witnessed world wide.

Got four minutes and thirty nine seconds? Watch this.

Thought Provoking Album Review

Check out this record review and read all the way to the end. there are some interesting observations and insights to be found. I dig it. Here's a key portion:

"Anyone with a passing knowledge of Cash's career should surely realize that he did not keep his spiritual side separate from his work. His hard-won Christian faith played a crucial role in all of his songs, lending them a moral gravity. Conversely, his secular concerns lend his songs of praise a powerful conflicted quality, making them sound like the humble prayers of a repentant sinner. On Personal File, this separation restricts these songs and their meanings and melodies: Why wouldn't "Have a Drink of Water", about Jesus in Samaria, fit right alongside Cash's take on John Prine's "Paradise"? Or "The Engineer's Dying Child" alongside "My Children Walk in Truth"? What would this tell us about such a complex American figure? I recommend you shuffle the tracklist and find out for yourself."

Get Lonely.

Get Lonely is the title of the new Mountain Goats album due to hit the street in August. If you've not heard the Mountain Goats, I recommend checking them out. Start with The Sunset Tree.

Click the title to link to a cheery little number about a disintegrating marriage. Enjoy.

Giant Killer.

The guy on the bottom in this photo is world renowned Brazilian jiu jiuitsu artist and undefeated UFC world champion Royce Gracie. He's like the Babe Ruth of mixed martial arts fighting. The guy is a legend and he never loses. Ever.
However, if you examine the photo closely, you'll notice that there is another gentleman in teh picture as well. No not the referee. The other guy. The one perched on Gracie's back raining down fists of fury like it's 1988, he's thirteen and playing Mike Tyson's Super punch out all hopped up on Mountain Dew and pixie sticks. Ok, now do you see him? That guys is Matt Hughes. No nickname. Just Matt Hughes. He's a wrestler and lives on a farm in illinois. And he just dropped like a ton of bricks. It wasn't even close.

before.

after.

Everyone ought to be at least a one point Calvinist by now.

Please pray for mercy and justice for these women. And repentance for their enemies. An enemy of the powerless and the widow and the orphan is an enemy of Christ. And not the blue-eyed, cherub-faced baby Jesus, cooing gently in the manger. Enemies of the powerless and the widow and the orphan are enemies of this Jesus:

"Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest. The hairs of his head were white like wool, as white as snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength.
When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades"

"Behold I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay everyone for what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end". [Revelation 1:12-18; 22:12-13]


_____________________________________________________

Psalm 58
Do you indeed decree what is right, you gods?
Do you judge the children of man uprightly?
No, in your hearts you devise wrongs;
your hands deal out violence on earth.

The wicked are estranged from the womb;
they go astray from birth, speaking lies.
They have venom like the venom of a serpent,
like the deaf adder that stops its ear,
so that it does not hear the voice of charmers
or of the cunning enchanter.

O God, break the teeth in their mouths;
tear out the fangs of the young lions, O Lord!
Let them vanish like water that runs away;
when he aims his arrows, let them be blunted.
Let them be like the snail that dissolves into slime,
like the stillborn child who never sees the sun.
Sooner than your pots can feel the heat of thorns,
whether green or ablaze, may he sweep them away!

The righteous will rejoice when he sees the vengeance;
he will bathe his feet in the blood of the wicked.
Mankind will say, “Surely there is a reward for the righteous;
surely there is a God who judges on earth.”
_______________________________________________________

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Hooray! New Tim Easton Album

Watch this short film.

I've Found an Application For the Imprecatory Psalms.

Why don't we care about this? I mean as a nation, or as an international community? Is it because these are women and the leaders of the industrialized world are men? Is it because they are black and the North American and European nations with the resources to address this situation are mostly not black? Is it because they are poor? Is it because they have no oil?
I don't think we're really interested in stopping terrorism.

Here is the US code definition of terrorism:

Sec. 2331. Definitions

As used in this chapter--
(1) the term ``international terrorism'' means activities that--
(A) involve violent acts or acts dangerous to human life
that are a violation of the criminal laws of the United States
or of any State, or that would be a criminal violation if
committed within the jurisdiction of the United States or of any
State;
(B) appear to be intended--
(i) to intimidate or coerce a civilian population;
(ii) to influence the policy of a government by
intimidation or coercion; or
(iii) to affect the conduct of a government by mass
destruction, assassination, or kidnapping; and

(C) occur primarily outside the territorial jurisdiction of
the United States, or transcend national boundaries in terms of
the means by which they are accomplished, the persons they
appear intended to intimidate or coerce, or the locale in which
their perpetrators operate or seek asylum;

The Dogs Playing Poker Code

I'm sorry. THIS is the baddest man ever.

Baddest Man Ever.

This is one of those Olympic hype, special interest stories from the games in Australia a while back. The "baddest man ever" whom I am referring to is the subject of the story, not Bob Costas. Just didn't want anyone to be confused. My favorite part is when Karelin says "Wrestling is how I express myself". Some people journal in their notebooks, or play the piano and others pick up grown men and smash them into the ground face first. Consistently. For thirteen years.

Ironically, Karelin lost his very first (and last) match in the finals. He lost to a big doughy American named Rulon Gardner. Karelin was just getting a bit too old to compete at the same level. I think he was pushing 40 at the time of his last match. Now he serves in the Russian parliment. Did I mention the guy is also a genius?

If you have the guts to actually watch this video clip, I would not sit directly in front of the screen. Sit at like a 45 degree angle or something. We can't be sure that Karelin won't finish the taping of the segment and then reach his left arm through the video camera and six years into the future, just to grab you by the throat and yank you into your own computer monitor and back out onto the wrestling mat so he can pick you up and smash your face into the ground as well. I mean it probably won't happen, but why risk it, you know?

An Evening with Joel Olsteen! Only TEN BUCKS! What a bargain!

Yes, it's true. For only ten dollars, you can spend an evening with Joel Olsteen right here in Columbus, Ohio on May 12th. What a deal.

Of course for just the price of a 16oz Guiness, the Funky Presbyterian will let you hang out with him at Hound Dog's and listen to him crack jokes about televangelists. For free you can come to his church on Sunday evenings at 6pm, 237 West Second Avenue in the Short North. But there's no Guiness at the church. So... it's your call.

truly awesome

Buckeyes hire former Iowa Hawkeye Big Ten Champ as Head Coach

This guy was my coach at the Iowa Hawkeye's Intensive Training Camp back in high school. I think it was 1989 or 1990.

Star Sighting # 3

Tonight we went out to eat for Jason's birthday in Silver Lake and as we are driving down the street, Dara (Jason's wife) says, "Check out that guy. The one with the afro. He's totally walking like (and then she starts singing Staying Alive, Bee Gees style)". And she was right! This totally hip, dude with a big afro is walking down the side walk all by himself and the guy has got the mojo working. He is exuding confidence and coolness. He's clearly got his own private soundtrack in his head to which he is grooving. Then as our car slowly passes we turn to see the gentleman's face. And who is it? That's right. Lenny Kravitz.

The greatest thing about it is that even when he is by himself and just like, walking to the 7-11 for a big gulp or whatever, he exudes funk! His whole ethos shouted "That's Right. I'm Lenny Freakin' Kravitz". I have no doubt that after five days of crossing the Sahara on foot without water, the funk in Lenny's walk would be equally as pronounced. And under his breath he'd be muttering "Sahara deseret. Gimme a break. Sahara desert. Sahara? This ain't no Sahara. I'll tell you what it is. This is Lenny Kravit's desert. I'll tell you that right now. you think this is hot? This ain't hot. My one piece silverbell bottom jump suit is hot... Man, you don't know what hot is... do you realize who I am? I am Lenny Freakin' Kravitz, I'll tell you that right now...That's right. Lenny Kravitz..."

*Also, I was equally as excited to see the big red white and blue wall mural pictured on the cover of Elliott Smith's Figure 8 album. That was cool, too.

Britney Spears Statue

Some of you seem to think the Britney Spears statue is actually not pro-life, but rather a mockery. None of you however have offered any evidence or critical analysis to support such a view. I'm willing to listen. But you gotta give me SOMETHING, here people.

Star Sighting Number 2

When Charity and I were out here a few years ago, we saw Bruce Willis on Sunset in Hollywood. Tonight I walked past Rob Schneider in Pasadena. He's short!

don't fear the key-tar

Ben Folds brings power to people, sticks it to man

Ride to laundromat lands cabbie on sold-out stage

Douglas Richard "Rick" Shaw, 53, drives a cab for Lansing's Big Daddy Taxi.
On Monday, he took three men to Sunshine Laundromat & Dry Cleaners at Frandor Shopping Center. As far as Shaw knew, they were just three guys with dirty laundry.
While Shaw waited in the cab for the guys to drop off their stuff, he passed the time as he often does with his Hohner Golden Melody - an instrument that goes anywhere.
It was, in fact, the blues harp's portability that drew Shaw to it in 1971.
"I picked it up on my way to Vietnam," said Shaw, a former member of the U.S. Army. "It was easy to carry."
Shaw was just getting warmed up when the first guy came out of the laundromat and got in the cab. Shaw kept playing.
"Yeah - I like to show off," he admitted.
The guy chipped in with a little hands-on-knees percussion, and when his two buddies climbed back into Shaw's cab, they contributed more tapping and other sound effects. Suddenly, Shaw was backed by a whole rhythm section.

Unusual offer

One of the guys asked Shaw what he was doing later that day.
"I told them I was free," Shaw said.
The guy told Shaw to meet him at the back door of Wharton Center that night and he would put Shaw and his harmonica on stage.
Naturally, Shaw was skeptical to say the least: "I'm like, 'Yeah, right - Wharton. Who put you up to this?' "
Well, the stranger turned out to be Ben Folds, the singer-songwriter-pianist, who was, indeed, performing for a sold-out Wharton crowd that night.
In an e-mail to me, Ben Folds fan Brad Flory of Jackson described Shaw's big moment this way:
"Early in the show, Folds called out a Lansing cab driver named Rick Shaw to play blues harmonica.
"He more or less killed.
"Folds let him play on at least two more songs, gave him a vulgar spoken line during another song and threw his name into lyrics a few times.
"It took guts to go on stage because it was a sold-out crowd of college kids."

Dream night

Back behind the wheel of his cab this week, Shaw, a native of Springfield, Ohio, who spent 30 years in Alaska before coming to Michigan a couple of years ago, called the experience the realization of a "lifelong dream."
Shaw has performed for audiences before - mainly in bars around Juneau - but Wharton was a different kind of gig entirely.
"I had a great time," he said. "The place was packed."
Shaw landed in Lansing after visiting his sister in Clare. While there, he saw an ad for a Lansing blues bar and thought the capital city might be his kind of place.
His early days here were not promising. He did a bit at the Volunteers of America homeless shelter before going to work for Big Daddy.
So far, Shaw hasn't received any work here as a harmonica player, and, in fact, got nothing but glory for his one-night stand at Wharton.
But, as he learned Monday at the laundromat, if he keeps playing, anything can happen.
"From the homeless shelter to Wharton - not bad," Shaw said.

Would you hire a 24 year old to be the head coach of your division 1 NCAA sports program?

Not only do I recommend counting all your eggs this Easter, I also recommend putting them all in one basket.

A. 900 AD
B. 1100 AD
C. 400 BC
D. 130 AD
The above numbers represent the dates of the earliest existing manuscript copies of four specific historical texts.


A. 1200
B. 1400
C. 500
D. less than 100
The above numbers represent the approximate time span in years between the original manuscripts and the copies.


A. 7
B. 49
C. 643
D. 5,600+
The above numbers represent the number of existing manuscripts available for each of the four historical texts.



Answer Key:

A. Plato
B. Aristotle
C. Homer's Illiad
D. The New Testament

John Piper on Good Friday

Should be titled: How to die like a Christian

Journal of the American Medical Association on the Physical Death of Jesus Christ

A Song For Good Friday

TO BE ALONE WITH YOU- Sufjan Stevens from Seven Swans

I'd swim across Lake Michigan.
I'd sell my shoes.
I'd give my body to be back again
in the rest of room.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.

You gave your body to the lonely.
They took your clothes.
You gave up a wife and a family.
You gave your ghost.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
I've never known a man who loved me

Don't Let The Man Keep You Down!

Get your taxes done.

Awesome. You gotta see this. You probably already have.

"Thanks to my homegirl at T-Shirts in NYC" and "Shout out to my brothers over at Emmaus Theory"

This draws together a few threads from the blogosphere, which I hope all y'all can enjoy. It's Sufjan so it's bound to please the indie rock contingent. It's a link from "t-shirts" so it's a word of thanks to my NYC peoples (all two of them- unless you count Rudi and Tim- ok it's just two of them). And it's all for love of country and whatnot so it should please both sides of the political aisle.

Enjoy!

Wild Lions to Protect Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie's Privacy During Pregnancy

Angelina: [exiting bathroom with pregnancy test in hand] Brad Honey, sit down. I have great news!

Brad: [confused, noticing pregnancy test, but not quite able to connect the dots] You got me some Lick-M-Aid Fun Dip?

Angelina: No Sweetie... I'm pregnant! You're going to be a Daddy!

Brad: Awesome. I'll get the lions.


As you can see, this is a completely reasonable course of action to take.
Note to Self... 100 days of pregnancy left. Be sure to get price quote on Ocelots.

Come On Feel the B-Sides

Funky Presbyterian's most beloved artist of 2005 promises release of outtakes from Illinoise, the neo-folk masterpiece hailed by everyone and his brother as the best album of the last year. I am giddy with anticipation.

Support Bibles for Porn Stars

Thanks Dru, for this link.

Phone Calls I Don't Make to Radio Talk Shows

Last night the boys and I had our own official men's night out which consisted of lots of jumping, running, and falling off of the big plastic spaceships and planets in the play area of the Tuttle Mall (as Jack's t-ball game was cancelled due to rain), some time at the book store, and of course the official eating of the ceremonial cookie which has traditionally marked the adjournment of the men's night out festivites. It's all very dignified. Next time we hope to incorporate pyrotechnical elements into the closing ceremonies. And probably dancing bears with little hats and vests on, carrying umbrellas. Or midgets boxing. The committee has not yet reached full agreement.

Anyway, as we were driving home and the boys were nodding off in the back seat, I was listeing to local talk radio wherre they were having a Final Four of annoying celebrities. The concept was some kind of bracket, whereby annoying celebrities and public figures were pitted against one another in order to determine just exactly who holds the distinguished title of most annoying person. The names callers proposed were largely predictable: Michael Jackson, Bill O'Reilly, Anna Nicole Smith, Barbara Streisand, Michael Moore... you get the point.

As I was listening, I couldn't help but think how totally awesome it would be to call up and suggest the names of individuals who are regarded with virtually universal respect and admiration. How hilarious would that be? Of course the trick would be to maintain an aura of complete sincerity:

"Yeah, this is T-Bone from the southside. Long time listener first time caller- Love the show, man. Thanks for taking my call. Alright, here's my Final Four-

Nelson Mandela- Ok. We get it. You were wrongfully imprisoned. Get over it already. And what's with the big baggy crazy print shirts? So when you got out of bed this morning you put on regular pants, but left the pajama shirt on? Nelson, buddy... it's called the Men's Wearhouse. Look into it.
And how about that Stephen Hawking guy- could this guy get any more pretensious? 'Oooh, look at me! I'm so smart. I've made greater contributions to mankind's understanding of the universe than anyone in the world and I did it all without the use of my lower extremities'. He's always doing that robot thing with his voice and he's all like 'I-INVENTED-BLACK-HOLES-AND-TIME-MACHINES-AND-I-CAN'T-EVEN-MOVE-MY-NECK-BUT-YES-I-WOULD-LIKE-FRIES-WITH-THAT-HA-HA-YOU-RETARDS-E=MC2' And what's with the wheel chair? Shouldn't he be able to levitate or something?
Next, I got Ghandi. Dude wait wait wait. It's totally not just cause he's a muslim. Seriously, dude. It's just a fashion thing. Whose this guy's stylist? It's like this, if you're going to roll with the whole "second-century tunic and sandals" vibe that's cool, but then you can't wear the little wire rimmed glasses. It totally breaks character! It's like that guy from cheap trick who wears a suit and tie with a baseball hat. You can't do that. Ghandi, my man. Either lose the glasses or get a coduroy jacket with elbow patches and a turtle neck. And grow a soul patch. You'd look like an english professor or something. Clothes make the man, my friend. Clothes make the man.
Alright and here's my last one: Mother Theresea. 'I help poor people. I give food to people who don't have any. I'm all short and old and whatnot'. I'm kidding! I'm kidding! No, really- I'm all about helping poor people and stuff. She's nice. But Theresea, I've got one word for you:
MOISTURIZER.
EXFOLIATION.
MICRODERM ABRASION.
I mean seriously... yikes.

That's it, dudes. Love the show. Catch you on the flipside. T-bone out!"



But I didn't call and say any of those things.

We Home School...

...but we've never suggested that it is the right choice for others. When considering the deicison to home school, private school or public school your children, there are many variables to consider and each situation is unique and there is no "one-size-fits all" correct answer for everyone. However...

THIS---> http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060403/NEWS01/604030389/1002/OPINION

is ridiculous!

I know you all really care a lot about this...

More Upheaval

Massive Upheaval in NCAA Coaching Positions Afoot

Strung out on St Paul's Epistle to the Romans.

I'm so sleepy I can't sleep. I feel all grumpy and tired and wired simultaneously. Who needs drugs when you can just preach every sunday night and have a giant adrenaline high followed by a crash? Tomorrow AM at 7:30 i've got men's prayer group. I'm just about good for nuthin' on Monday's. I feel like I'm emotionally and spiritually drained and like I have nothing left to give anyone. Like my battery is just empty. I should make little beeping sounds like my cell phone just before it's battery dies. That way everyone would know. By Tuesday I'm usually back up to speed. One thing that still surprises me is the toll Sundays take on me physically. On Monday's I physically hurt from preaching on Sunday nights. I move slower. My joints ache.

I can always tell when I need some time off because Sunday nights feel just like this. I even took two days off last week, but I stayed in town and so it didn't really feel like I was off. I wasn't "working" but my brain was still in "go-mode". I know everybody works a lot. I'm not complaining. Just telling.

Goodnight.

My Blog Has Recieved A Lot More Hits...

ever since I published a post with the words "Britney Spears" and "Naked" in it. ATTENTION 14 YEAR OLD BOYS: DON"T YOU KNOW YOU'LL GO BLIND?

Is You Is Or Is You Ain't? (An Article From Emusic.com)

Is You Is Or Is You Ain't?: Christian Indie-Rock
by Michael James McGonigal

Eight years ago, a reedy-voiced genius from Athens, GA, sang the words "I love you Jesus Christ/ Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do" in a crazy, fuzzed-out pop song. Over a chaotic and beautiful backing music that sounded like a marching band from inside your very best dreams, Mangum stretched those 15 syllables out into many dozens. It was just two lines in one song, "King of Carrot Flowers Part Two," off an album called In the Aeroplane Over the Sea that is filled with alternately disturbing and blissed-out, Blake-ian imagery. Mangum had written much of the album in just a few days after he read Diary of Anne Frank for the first time and "kind of lost it," which is of course the only rational response to the Holocaust.

But seeing as Aeroplane was among the best albums of that year, those lines had a pretty large impact in the indie rock community. Expressing a sincere love, even just a potentially sincere love, for Christ was perhaps the last taboo in indie and alt-rock. The Danielson clan had been doing it since 1995, but they were misunderstood as some sort of outsider/joke band (perhaps aided by the quirky nature of their songs and the fact that they all performed in nurses' uniforms).

I interviewed Mangum for a cover story for alt-rock quarterly Puncture, whereupon he allowed that "a song about God was inevitable, because of my upbringing and the intense experiences I had... at church camps." He continued, citing the age-old divide of God versus church. "My love for Christ has more to do with what Christ said and believed in. The church put this bullshit around it and made it this at-times really evil thing. If you attach man to anything, he's gonna fuck it up somehow," he continued, adding, "You think that's too cynical?" Such words do have a ring of truth for those of us who went to church and never once heard a sermon on why it would be harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven than a camel to enter a needle's eye or whether it really made sense to spend so much of the church's money on these big fancy buildings rather than on outreach, not to mention those of us who still have trouble reconciling such actions as the Holy Crusades (the old ones and the more modern versions) with the words "thou shalt not kill."

But this isn't a freshman religion class, and of course there are a multitude of churches and denominations from which to choose, so, um, back to the music.

Whatever the impact of that one song by Neutral Milk Hotel, it was just one song. Today, though, some of the most interesting and celebrated musicians in the "secular indie" scene are devout Christians. But is the music they make Christian music or not? How to address this stuff from the vantage point of Christian music? Should it even be addressed at all? I'm feeling particularly fed up with genre definitions as I search for ways to address the strange but devotional music of the promising new band Page France and the celebrated musician Sufjan Stevens.

I'd already decided to write about this subject of Christian music being made in the indie-rock commuity, when Chris Dahlen wrote about this very thing in a column for the influential website Pitchfork this past January. "I don't know why hipsters hate Jesus," he began. Of course, that's not true, that hipsters hate Christ, though the problem with discussing hipsters is that you'd be very hard-pressed to find a hipster who'll acknowledge he or she actually is one.

Dahlen ends his piece by suggesting folks be more open-minded, to not "shoot the messenger," which sounds good to me. It does concern me that some of the most talented musicians of our day — who are Christians but not operating within the CCM community — do not feel comfortable discussing their faith for fear of being thought of as "stupid, or worse," as a musician friend of mine (who is amazingly talented and worshipped on websites and touted by NPR as a great talent and who unfortunately wishes to remain anonymous) put it while visiting last week.

What I am asking for is an expansion of the definition of Christian music, to also include amazing devotional songs that might not even be written by people within the CCM community. I want more weirdness! I want more questioning! I want better music! I want rock bands that are as great at being rock bands as the Swan Silvertones were at being a vocal quartet! Knowing that God is everywhere, and yeah it's a crazy cliché but that God works in mysterious ways, I'm more interested in hearing amazing songs of devotion than the purported great faith of this or that person. I'm not here to take inventories. I'm less concerned with whether or not Amy Grant had an affair or not, but when it comes to her music, is it any good, as gospel? Does it inspire joy, or make me think about faith in a new way? As such, I would rather listen to the Velvet Underground's gorgeous ballad "Jesus" (a song written by a junkie New York Jew!), or Sufjan's pretty and plaintive "Oh God, Where Are You Now?" than anything in, say, dcTalk's catalog. (Let's face it, they were an important band in the evolution of CCM, but their music was as ridiculously hokey as the best of Vanilla Ice crossed with the worst of U2.)

One of the latest songs to cause ripples within the indie-rock community is "Jesus" by the band Page France. Page France has the makings of greatness, as a single listen to the song "Spine," will attest, seeing as it brings to mind Elf Power playing with Tom Verlaine during his instrumental period. And while some of the band's work is too precious, too twee, as if the group were really holding something back, with time they could be the equal of their influences. They always have interesting lyrics that are clearly Biblically inspired, with blood from stones and burning bushes and angels and lines like "You were made out of my ribs/ We share a heart."

Anyway, this song "Jesus" might upset your mother, but it's clearly a spirited, spiritual song. The three and a half minute number begins with some pleasant acoustic guitar and organ before heading into these sweetly-sung words that have confused many listeners: "And Jesus will come through the ground so dirty/ With worms in his hair and a hand so sturdy/ To call us his magic, we call him worthy." Some might bristle at the tune and call it sacrilege, but I find it one of the more interesting, if not a tad literal, interpretations of the Resurrection.

Perhaps we need a new category for this kind of stuff? We could call it Alt-Alt-Christian rock? No, that's awful. Think of a name and send it in, I beseech thee

j
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

s
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

j&s
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

Is Charlie Peacock writing songs for Sheryl Crow & Sting?

Today I heard a song on the VH1 by Sheryl Crow and Sting called "always on your side" and though I've never heard the song before, Im telling you it HAD to be written by a guy named Charlie Peacock (real name Charlie Ashworth). Who can confirm this for me?

It's got his melodies and chord changes and even some pretty distinctively "Covenant Seminary/ Presbyterian" turns of phrases in the lyrics. I'm telling you Charlie either wrote it or whoever DID write it was listening to or hanging out with Charlie when they did write it!

I need confirmation. First to confirm wins... um... something cool. Maybe a statue of Charlie Peacock on a bear skin rug, fully clothed and eating cheetos or something.

FP

Hooray for Naked Statues of Britney Spears

bear skin rug
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

Today a friend emailed me expressing disapointment that I had not yet commented on the new pro-life monument that was recently unveiled in Brooklyn. It is a scuplture of Britney Spears. Naked. And giving birth. You can click the title of this post to read an article about the work, and you can keep reading this post to hear my two cents.

Here's what I love about it:

First it's pro-life, which is great. Second it is a very well executed sculpture. The Pro-Life movement is of course linked with the political right, which is not known to be a friend of the arts, so to a see a pro life work that has actual artistic merit is encouraging to me as a pro-lifer and as an artist.

In addition, I especially love that the work is mildly provacative. It would have been so easy for someone to have done a nice safe sculpture of a fully clothed mother cradling her child (ala Mary Cassat or whatever). But what would be the point of that? The fact that this work is mildly provacative removes it somewhat from the sphere of the political right & especially from the "Christian" right. Let's face it. Minature models of this statue are not going to be sold as pewter bookends in any Chrisitian bookstore, with the proceeds going to a pro-life organization. So the very nature of the work cleanses the pro-life message from the ideologue stigma often (unfairly or fairly) attached to it by more liberal opponents. Ralph Reed ain't making naked statues of Britney Spears.

Which is the other thing I love about this piece. The fact that it is Britney Spears works fantastically on a number of levels. First, if the provacative nature of the work removes the accusation of "conservative ideologue", identifying the woman as Britney Spears removes the whole "frou-frou- too-cool-for school-artsy-fartsy-wine-and-cheese-pretense" from a work that could otherwise be seen as merely high culture sophistication. Britney is as low culture, as pop culture as it gets. Even better, Britney is pop culture icon ten minutes past her prime, which is the worst of all possible crimes in our culture.

The fact that the scuplture is Britney Spears also works to make it accessible to folks who aren't artsy fartsy. Everybody knows who she is and everybody knows she had a baby. So the work maintains it's creative integrity while becoming completly accessible at some level to everyone from 12 year old girls to gallery curators in soho. Virtually everyone can engage with the work on some level. So in that sense it is absolutely brilliant as an apologetic for the pro-life position.

The other thing I love about it being Britney Spears is that she has in recent years become the whipping girl of the family values set, who seem to be relieved to have found a replacement for Madonna- ever since she got married and started writing children's books. So for the pro-life movement to honor her for making the surprisingly counter-cultural and potentially costly decision to become a mother rather than aborting, despite the fact that the conservative evangelicals (the Pro-Life movement's primary constituency) have demonized her (for dancing naked with snakes on MTV or whatever it was) is a particularly courageous & admirable choice on the part of whomever commissioned the work.

The last thing I love about this statue being of Britney Spears is that it connects with those whom the pro-life message needs most to connect. Even more so than with voters and law makers. That's girls. We need to contunally lift up examples of women making life decisions for our daughters to see. We need to herald those decisions for our daughters to hear. This statue does that.

A last, slightly more delicate point we could discuss is the way in which child birth and motherhood are shown to be sensual and even sexual in nature >blush<. This is a healthy message as well. Motherhood does not remove sexuality! Healthy images of sexuality should be encouraged and applauded wherever we find them. Here is an image of sexuality that actually demonstrates that conception and child birth are the natural prducts of active sexuality! This is a piece of art that does not live in the land of sexual makebelieve like most sexually charged artwork in our culture does- this piece doesn not divorce sexuality from relationship, from commitment, from parenthood, from personhood, or from the beauty of birth and the costly changes it brings to career and lifestyle. This statue is NOT pornography. Also this work argues that the choice to give birth does not transform a woman into an undesirable, asexual, being. How many girls contemplating abortion, or being pressured into abortion by their boyfriends, need to hear that message? How many mothers need to hear this message? Who else is saying it?

Not the conservatives. Cultural conservatives want to protect the unborn, but give the impression that sex is bad or dirty.

Not the liberals. Cultural liberals promote sexuality, but it is a "liberated" sexuality of radical individualism that refuses to acknolwedge that sex is inherently a communal act with communal repercussions that range from the conception of other human beings to societal issues like an overabundance of fatherless children.

Not the church. We mostly pretend like sex doesn't exist, except for the times we are telling people not to have it.

This statue will have none of it. Sex is relational. It has consequences. Sex and parenthood are necessarily linked. They are beautiful and difficult and expensive and fascinating and invigorating and ought to be celebrated.

Hooray for naked statues of Britney Spears.

Free Live Show From Tim Easton!

Tim Easton
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

Follow the link to a free live show you can download from Tim Easton. Tim is in LA and hangs with the Lucinda Williams set in Nashville from time to time, as well as the M Ward faction.

But he is from Ohio and spends a portion of the year right here in little ol' Columbus and often drinks Coffee at the Cup O Joe in Clintonville which the Funky Presbyter has been known to frequent. Easton's new album is due to be released on May 16th of this year, which is another thing we've got in common. I was "released" on May 16th in 1974. Guess what I'm buying myself for my birthday this year?

If you've not heard Easton I highly recommend him. My friend Nand turned me on to him and one thing I've learned is if a guy named "Nand" tells you to listen to something, then do it especially if the guys named Nand also has a silent "L" in his last name. That is a sure fire sign of good musical taste. It's like genetic or something. He is heads and shoulders above all the other singer songwriter, alt country, pop, folk guys out there. (Tim, not Nand. I've never heard sopng written by Nand, so I can;t speak for his songwriting). I'd put Easton in the same camp as Ryan Adams' best work. At times even better. He's got what SImon Cowell would call the "it" factor. Yes, I've been watching American Idol. shut up.

lyric of the day

From Home Again Garden Grove by The Mountain Goats...

I can remember when we were in highschool
Our dreams were like fugitive warlords
Plotting triumphant returns to the city
Keeping tech nines tucked under the floor boards

Now we are practical men of the world
We tether our dreams to the turf
And cruise down the alleys for honey to feed them
Like jelley fish riding the surf

Images of Noah's Ark?

Please pray for this guy.

Do Not Panic

snow
Originally uploaded by grb3000.

Those of you in the central Ohio area know that for the last two days, all media reports have been bleeping and screeching their warnings to us: Severe Winter Storm Advisor.

I'm afraid the time is now upon us. News reports are now calling for... (brace yourselves)... one to three inches. Yes, the situation is very grave. Perhaps now would be a good time to say parting words to your loved ones and make peace with your maker.

The WHITE DEATH is upon us.