IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, SON, AND HOLY SPIRIT:
AMEN
WRITTEN AS THE BANNER HEADLINE ON YOUR BULLETIN TODAY ARE TWO WORDS WHICH STRIKE TERROR INTO ANYONE BOLD ENOUGH TO PREACH ON THIS TOPIC: TRINITY SUNDAY.
THERE’S NOTHING ELSE IN CHRISTIANITY WHICH CREATES MORE CONFUSION.
LIKE THIS FAMILY I KNOW, IN CALIFORNIA, WHO WENT TO CHURCH ONE TRINITY SUNDAY.
WHEN THEY ARRIVED HOME AFTER THE SERVICE, THEIR YOUNGEST DAUGHTER SAID, “I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THE REST OF YOU, BUT ALL THIS TALK ABOUT THE TRINITY MAKES ME FEEL LEFT OUT.”
DADDY ASKED , “WHY IS THAT, HONEY?”
SHE REPLIED, “BECAUSE THE PRIEST KEPT GOING ON AND ON ABOUT THE FATHER, SON, AND THE WHOLE EAST COAST!”
WELL, THEN LET’S TRY TO MAKE MORE SENSE OF THIS TOGETHER AS A ST. MARGARET’S FAMILY.
THE FIRST THING TO THING TO NOTE IS THAT THE WORD, TRINITY, ITSELF, IS NOT IN THE BIBLE.
THE TERM IS SOMETHING EARLY FATHERS OF THE CHURCH INVENTED BY INFERRING IT EXISTED, INDEED, BY READING ALL THE SCRIPTURE ABOUT THE FATHER, SON, AND HOLY SPIRIT, TOGETHER AS THREE, THROUGHOUT THE NEW TESTAMENT.
THERE ARE EARLIER HISTORICAL ANTECEDENTS TO THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF A HOLY TRIO.
THE ANCIENT GREEKS CONCEIVED THEIR UNIVERSE TO BE CREATED AND GOVERNED BY THE ONE, AND NATURE, AND A DIVINE INTELLIGENCE.
THE GREEKS BELIEVED EVERYTHING WAS CREATED BY THE ONE, AND CONSISTS, OF THE ONE.
NATURE REPRESENTS THE PHYSICAL THINGS WHICH CAN BE PERCEIVED THROUGH THE FIVE SENSES.
THE DIVINE INTELLIGENCE, FUNCTIONS IN A WAY, LIKE THE HOLY SPIRIT. IT’S AN INDWELLING DIVINE SPARK OF THE ONE WHICH KEEPS THE MEMORY OF BEING ONCE UNITED WITH THE ONE ALIVE.
IN THE GREEK COSMOS, THEN,LIFE ON EARTH IS A HEROIC EXHAUSTING JOURNEY TO RE-UNITE WITH THE ONE.
IT CERTAINLY CONTAINS SOME ELEMENTS WHICH REMIND US OF OUR OWN CHRISTIAN TRINITY, BUT WHAT’S VERY DIFFERENT IS THAT WE DON’T EARN OUR WAY TO HEAVEN BY CARRYING OUT HEROIC DEEDS, THANK GOD, CAUSE IF THAT WERE THE CASE, I KNOW I’D NEVER MAKE IT.
OTHERS HAVE LIKENED THE TRINITY TO GOD, AS THE LOVER, JESUS AS HIS BELOVED, AND THEN, LOVE, ITSELF, AS THE FORCE WHICH HOLDS THE UNIVERSE TOGETHER.
WHAT IS COMMON TO THESE INTERPRETATIONS IS A DESIRE BY HUMANITY TO IMAGINE THE NATURE OF THEIR CREATOR AND HIS CREATION.
THAT’S THE CRUX OF THE PROBLEM WHEN IT COMES TO COMPREHENDING THE TRINITY: IT’S NOT ABOUT WHAT GOD DOES, BUT WHAT GOD IS.
IT’S THE SAME WITH LOVE – YOU COULD SAY LOVE IS LIKE A BOWL OF CHERRIES, WHICH IS AN ANALOGY, OR “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU” WHICH IS AN ACTION, BUT IF SOMEONE ASKED YOU TO DEFINE LOVE, OR GOD, HOW MIGHT YOU GO ABOUT THAT?
SOME THEOLOGIANS, LIKE THOMAS AQUINAS, PLAYED WITH DEFINING THE CONCEPT IN ANOTHER WAY: SINCE IT’S SO HARD TO SAY WHAT GOD IS, HOW ABOUT WE SAY, INSTEAD, WHAT GOD IS NOT.
THIS IS CALLED THE THEOLOGY OF VIA NEGATIVA.
FOR EXAMPLE, ALL OF US HERE ARE FINITE IN TIME – LIKE IT OR NOT, THERE’S A 100% CHANCE ALL OF US WILL DIE – BUT AN ETERNAL GOD IS NOT FINITE.
SEE, WE’VE DEFINED GOD BY WHAT HE IS NOT…HE IS NOT FINITE.
ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF VIA NEGATIVA IS THAT IT IS 100% CERTAIN ALL OF US HERE WERE CREATED.
BUT GOD THE CREATOR IS NOT A CREATION.
YOU GET THE IDEA OF HOW THIS WORKS…
WELL, THEN, WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE US WHEN WE THINK ABOUT WHAT GOD IS?
MAYBE THIS’LL HELP:
I ONCE STUMBLED ACROSS A FORGOTTEN BOOK ON A DUSTY LIBRARY SHELF (DON’T YOU LOVE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS!) CALLED, SIMPLY ENOUGH, “HOW TO THINK ABOUT GOD.”
IT WASN’T WRITTEN BY A THEOLOGIAN, BUT BY A PHILOSOPHER, NOW DECEASED, NAME OF MORTIMER ADLER.
GREAT LITTLE BOOK – I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT…
IT GOES ABOUT DESCRIBING GOD, AND PROVING HIS EXISTENCE, NOT BASED ON WHAT’S WRITTEN IN SCRIPTURE, BUT BY USING STANDARD PHILOSOPHICAL METHODS.
THIS IS WHAT ADLER CAME UP. SEE IF YOU CAN BUY INTO IT…
ADLER SAYS WE KNOW TWO PROPOSITIONS FOR SURE:
WE EXIST.
WE CONTINUE TO EXIST.
LOOK AROUND YOU – IT CERTAINLY APPEARS TO BE SO, BUT AS IT GOES WITH ALL POSITIVE PROPOSITIONS IN PHILOSOPHY, THE CASE MUST BE EXAMINED AGAINST AN OPPOSITE PROPOSITION.
IN THIS CASE, THE ALTERNATIVE IS:
WE DON’T EXIST.
SINCE THAT IS OBVIOUSLY FALSE, BECAUSE, AFTER ALL, WE ARE HERE IN CHURCH TODAY, WE CAN SAFELY RELY ON THE PREMISE THAT THE STATEMENTS:
WE EXIST
AND CONTINUE TO EXIST, ARE TRUE.
ADLER STATES, THEN, IT FOLLOWS, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING, BY NECESSITY, SUPERIOR TO US, THAT CONTINUOUSLY PROLONGS OUR EXISTENCE, OR ELSE, WE WOULD STOP EXISTING.
IN PHILOSOPHY, THIS IS CALLED AN ARGUMENT OF NECESSITY.
ADLER IS CONVINCED, THEN, BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT, THAT THERE IS SUFFICIENT EVIDENCE TO STATE IT IS NECESSARY A SUPERIOR BEING, THAT IS, GOD EXISTS AND DOES SOMETHING WHICH CONTINUOUSLY PROLONGS CREATION OR ELSE IT WOULD DISAPPEAR.
DO YOU FOLLOW? CAN YOU BUY THIS?
IF YOU DO, IT MEANS YOU’RE NOW EQUIPPED WITH LOGICAL ARGUMENTS TO PUT TO SOMEONE WHO COMES UP TO YOU AT A PARTY AND SAYS, “HEY, YOU CAN’T PROVE WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS IS TRUE JUST BY QUOTING THE BIBLE!’
YOU CAN SAY “OH YEAH, “HAVEN’T YOU EVER HEARD OF ADLER’S ARGUMENT OF NECESSITY?”
GREAT COMEBACK, EH, YOU JUST HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE RIGHT KIND OF PARTY TO USE IT…
SO, AGAIN, WHERE DOES THIS LEAVE US WHEN WE THINK OF THE TRINITY?
IF I IMAGINE IT, THEN, IN LIGHT OF SCRIPTURE, AND WHAT ADLER WROTE, THE TRINITY MIGHT RESEMBLE AN ENORMOUS GENERATOR WHERE THE FATHER, SON, AND HOLY SPIRIT, DANCE, AND SWIRL, SHOWERING SPARKS OF ENERGY WHICH POWER CREATION.
I CALL THIS BILL’S COSMIC THEORY OF THE DOMINION ELECTRIC COMPANY.
BUT THAT’S A PRETTY FAR OUT WILD BILL CONCEPT, EH?
SO LET’S GET BACK TO REALITY, TO WHAT THE CHURCH SAYS.
WHY, EXACTLY, AFTER THE CHURCH HAD INFERRED THE EXISTENCE OF THE TRINITY DID THE IDEA BECOME SO CENTRAL TO CHRISTIANITY?
WELL, BECAUSE FOR THE FIRST FEW CENTURIES AFTER JESUS, THERE WERE SO MANY IDEAS FLOATING AROUND EVEN STRANGER THAN A TRINITY ELECTRIC COMPANY, THE CHURCH SAID, “HEY, IF WE ALL DON’T GET ON THE SAME PAGE AND SET SOME BOUNDARIES, THEN THERE’S A GOOD CHANCE THE UNIVERSAL CHRISTIAN CHURCH MIGHT TOTALLY FALL APART.”
FOR EXAMPLE, SOME FOLKS WERE SAYING, SINCE THERE IS LANGUAGE IN SCRIPTURE WHERE JESUS REFERS TO HIS FATHER AS ONE GREATER THAN HIM, THEN JESUS MUST BE INFERIOR TO GOD, AND NOT CO-EQUAL.
OR THAT WHEN JESUS TOOK HUMAN FORM, HE MUST HAVE HAD TWO DISTINCT NATURES, ONE HUMAN AND ONE DIVINE, BUT NOT BOTH AT THE SAME TIME…
AND SO ON AND SO ON AND SO ON.
YOU CAN SEE HOW ALL THESE COMPETING IDEAS POSED A THREAT TO A CHURCH, JUST A FEW CENTURIES OLD, TRYING TO GROW, AS THE ONE TRUE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
SO THE BISHOPS MET IN A SERIES OF COUNCILS (LIKE THE ONE HELD AT NICAEA) AND TOOK TURNS PRESENTING THEIR THEORIES.
THEN THE BISHOPS VOTED ON WHAT YOU NEEDED TO BELIEVE, AND STATE PUBLICALLY, TO BE CONSIDERED A CHRISTIAN IN GOOD STANDING.
WHAT WAS AGREED UPON BECAME MANDATORY; WHAT WASN’T, WAS BRANDED HERESY.
THAT’S WHY, TO THIS DAY, WE RECITE THE NICENE CREED, ALOUD, EVERY SUNDAY, IN OUR SERVICE.
EVEN NOW, THOUGH, TWO THOUSAND YEARS LATER, SOME FOLKS STILL WANT TO TWEAK THE CREED, LIKE WHERE IT SAYS THAT THE HOLY SPIRIT PROCEEDS FROM THE FATHER AND THE SON, THAT MIGHT INFER THE HOLY SPIRIT ISN’T CO-EQUAL WITH THE OTHER TWO.
IF YOU’RE ANY KIND OF HISTORY, THEOLOGY, OR PHILOSOPHY GEEK, LIKE ME, THIS IS ENDLESSLY FASCINATING, EVEN IF IT MAY NOT SOUND LIKE IT!
BUT THAT’S THE REASON WHY I LIKE TODAY’S GOSPEL READING, JOHN 3:1-17, SO MUCH…
HERE WE HAVE TWO GREAT TEACHERS TALKING THIS OVER AND WE GET TO EAVESDROP ON THEIR CONVERSATION…
NICODEMUS IS A JEWISH LEADER AND TEACHER – HIS JOB IS TO INTERPRET THE TORAH, AND THEN TEACH OTHERS HOW TO LIVE A DAILY LIFE IN ACCORDANCE WITH GOD’S LAWS.
AND WE HAVE JESUS, CALLED RABBI, OR TEACHER, TRYING TO EXPLAIN, LIKE I HAVE TODAY, SUCCESSFULLY OR UNSUCCESSFULLY AS THE CASE MAY BE, SOME COMPLICATED AND CHALLENGING IDEAS.
BEYOND THE RESPECT NICK GRANTS JESUS AS AN EXCELLENT TEACHER, HE’S PAYING EXTRA SPECIAL ATTENTION SINCE HE ALSO GRANTS JESUS MAJOR PROPS FOR PERFORMING MIRACLES AND ALL.
IN THE COURSE OF THIS CONVERSATION, JESUS DROPS A BOMB.
HE SAYS, “NICK, THE ONLY WAY TO SEE THE KINGDOM OF GOD AND TRULY UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING IS TO BE BORN AGAIN.”
AT FIRST NICK TAKES TOO LITERALLY – HE SAYS, “HOW CAN ANYONE BE BORN AGAIN? YOU MEAN YOU WANT ME TO ACTUALLY CRAWL BACK INTO MOM AND BE PHYSICALLY BORN AGAIN, LIKE THAT?
AND LIKE THE GIFTED TEACHER HE IS, JESUS APPEALS TO HIS STUDENT’S DIRECT EXPERIENCE, BY SAYING, “C’MON, NICKY, THINK ABOUT IT. THIS SHOULDN’T BE ENTIRELY NEW TO YOU.
THERE ARE PLENTY OF EXAMPLES IN THE JEWISH BIBLE YOU TEACH JUST LIKE IT.
THERE WAS THE TIME GOD TOLD MOSES TO MAKE A SNAKE OUT OF BRASS AND LIFT IT UP ON A POLE. AND EVERYONE WHO LOOKED UP AT THE SNAKE ON THE POLE WOULD BE HEALED, OR BORN AGAIN, IF YOU CATCH MY DRIFT.
AND, NICK, I’LL LET YOU IN ON SOMETHING REALLY AMAZING – THERE’S GOING TO BE A TIME WHEN I’M LIFTED UP ON A POLE LIKEWISE AND EVERYONE WHO BELIEVES IN ME WILL BE HEALED.
THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT WHEN I SAY YOU HAVE TO BE BORN AGAIN.”
IN FACT, AT THIS POINT, IN ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS PASSAGES OF THE BIBLE, JESUS REPEATS HIMSELF, MOST ELOQUENTLY, SAYING, “FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD THAT HE GAVE HIS ONLY SON, SO THAT EVERYONE WHO BELIEVES IN HIM MAY NOT PERISH BUT MAY HAVE ETERNAL LIFE.”
BUT EVEN IF NICK SEEMED TO HAVE STRUGGLED TO GRASP THE CONCEPT, OR WAS SCARED OF WHAT HIS FRIENDS MIGHT THINK, SINCE WE SEE HE ONLY CAME TO TALK WITH JESUS UNDER COVER OF THE NIGHT, THERE ARE STRONG INDICATIONS HE TOOK JESUS’ WORDS TO HEART, BECAUSE AFTER THE CRUCIFIXION, NICODEMUS, THE PHARISEE, HELPED JOSEPH OF ARIMETHEA, GENTLY ANNOINT JESUS’ BODY FOR BURIAL IN THE TOMB.
THROUGHOUT THEIR CONVERSATION, YOU SEE, JESUS WAS INVITING NICK INTO A RELATIONSHIP, WHICH IT LOOKS LIKE, PRETTY MUCH, IN THE END, HE DID ACCEPT.
PAUL’S LETTER TO THE ROMANS, OUR SECOND READING, TODAY, IS ANOTHER SUCH INVITATION.
PAUL IS SAYING, “HEY ROMANS, IF WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO DO IS INTERPRET SCRIPTURE SO YOU CAN FOLLOW EVERY LAW IN YOUR DAILY LIFE, YOU’RE BOUND TO FAIL, BECAUSE NOBODY’S PERFECT.
BUT, IF YOU ENTER A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE FATHER, SON AND HOLY SPIRIT, INSTEAD, WHICH IS POSSIBLE FOR ANYONE, YOU CAN BECOME A CHILD OF GOD AND JOINT HEIR TO THE KINGDOM.
SOUNDS GOOD, SO FAR, BUT WHAT DOES PAUL MEAN EXACTLY ABOUT BECOMING A CHILD OF GOD AND JOINT HEIR TO THE KINGDOM?
IN ORDER TO TRY AND UNDERSTAND THAT, LIKE JESUS DID WITH NICK, LET’S FIRST REDUCE IT TO THINGS WE KNOW FROM OUR OWN EXPERIENCE AND THEN BUILD BACK UP TO THE KINGDOM FROM THERE.
AS A GOVT. BUREAUCRAT FOR 30 YEARS, I CAN START BY ENVISIONING SOMETHING LIKE THIS:
THE FATHER IS THE SES AUTHOR OF THE STRATEGIC PLAN;
THE SON IS THE DESIGNATED PROJECT MANAGER, WHO ALONG WITH HIS 12 PROGRAM ASSISTANTS, CARRIES OUT THE TACTICAL PLAN;
THE HOLY SPIRIT IS THE LAN ADMINISTRATOR WHO OPERATES THE SERVER WHICH PROCESSES THE EMAIL TRAFFIC BETWEEN THEM.
EXCEPT, THE MYSTERIOUS THING IS, WHEN IT’S TIME TO MAIL THEIR PAYCHECKS, THEY’RE ALL SENT TO ONE ADDRESS.
NOW, THAT, FROM MY TREASURY DAYS, IS SOMETHING I CAN REALLY UNDERSTAND!
HOW MIGHT THIS WORK REDUCED EVEN FURTHER TO SOMETHING IN OUR ST. MARGARET’S EXPERIENCE?
THERE WAS A NEED EXPRESSED AT THE SHELTER ON ROUTE 1 TO CREATE A COMPUTER CENTER SO GUESTS COULD WRITE THEIR OWN RESUMES…
THE CHURCH, IN THE ROLE OF STRATEGIC PLANNER, CREATED THE PROJECT PLAN, AND OBTAINED $4,000 FROM A DIOCESAN MUSTARD SEED GRANT, TO FINANCE THE EFFORT…
SOMEONE WAS STILL NEEDED AS TEAM LEADER TO CARRY OUT THE TACTICAL PLAN…
A FELLA SOON STEPPED FORWARD. HE WAS A RETIRED NAVAL OFFICER WHO’D BEEN NURSING HIS AILING WIFE FOR A LONG TIME. AFTER SHE’D PASSED, HE FOUND HIMSELF WITH TIME ON HIS HANDS, LOOKING FOR SOMETHING USEFUL TO DO.
FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, THINGS APPEARED TO BE ROLLING ALONG, BUT A FEW DAYS AFTER THE COMPUTERS WERE PURCHASED AND INSTALLED AT THE SHELTER HE CALLED ME IN A PANIC.
HE SAID, “I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN WORK HERE ANYMORE. IT’S CHAOS! THERE ARE STRANGE PEOPLE COMING AND GOING YELLING AND SHOUTING. I’M NOT USED TO WORKING UNDER THESE CONDITIONS!”
I RESPONDED, “I’VE ALWAYS LIKENED WORKING IN SHELTERS TO GOING TO DISNEY WORLD, EXCEPT, IN THIS CASE, YOU’RE GOING TO SHELTER WORLD.
IT’S NOT LIKE THE WORLD YOU AND I LIVE IN. IT DOESN’T FUNCTION THE SAME WAY.
MOST OF THE TIME, IT’S BEST YOU DON’T GET FRUSTRATED, BUT TO JUST GO WITH THE FLOW.
AND LIKE DISNEY WORLD, IN THE END, YOU USUALLY FIND IT’S WORTH THE EFFORT.
SO DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY?”
HE AGREED AND I DIDN’T HEAR FROM HIM AGAIN.
A FEW WEEKS LATER, FROM MY PEW, THIRD FROM THE BACK, ON THE RIGHT, I RECOGNIZED THE BACK OF HIS HEAD, FOUR ROWS FORWARD, IN HIS PEW, AND HE WAS SITTING NEXT TO ANOTHER PERSON.
THAT WAS UNUSUAL BECAUSE AFTER HIS WIFE PASSED, HE USUALLY SAT IN CHURCH BY HIMSELF.
I’M NOSY -- I WONDERED WHO IT COULD BE.
NOW, I’LL TELL YOU, THE BACK OF THE HEAD OF THE PERSON SITTING NEXT TO HIM, LOOKED, AT FIRST GLANCE, A LOT LIKE WHOOPI GOLDBERG’S, LONG DREADLOCKS, AND ALL.
AND THEN IT HIT ME. I REALIZED WHO IT WAS.
SHE WAS ONCE A RESIDENT OF THE SHELTER AND I KNEW SHE’D HAD A VERY HARD LIFE BEFORE SHE LANDED THERE.
WHEN HER TIME WAS UP AND SHE HAD TO LEAVE, THERE WAS SOMETHING SO SPECIAL ABOUT HER, SHE WAS HIRED, AND TO THIS DAY, TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE, SHE STILL WORKS THERE, MANY YEARS LATER.
I THOUGHT AT THE TIME, THIS IS SOMEWHAT OF AN ODD COUPLE: A BUTTONED DOWN RETIRED NAVAL COMMANDER SITTING NEXT TO A STREET-WISE FORMER HOMELESS LADY.
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?
THEY WERE THE BEST OF FRIENDS, UNTIL HE PASSED PEACEFULLY, IN HIS SLEEP, ABOUT A YEAR LATER.
BUT THAT’S IT YOU SEE.
SHE WAS THE FINAL MEMBER OF THIS LOCAL TRINITY:
THE CHURCH WAS STRATEGIC PLANNER;
A LAY PERSON STEPPED FORWARD TO CARRY OUT THE TACTICAL PLAN;
A HOMELESS WOMAN WAS THE INSPIRING SPIRIT.
IT WASN’T COMPUTER SKILLS WHICH MADE THIS PROJECT WORK: IT WAS RELATIONSHIP.
A FEW WEEKS AGO, I PREACHED ON A READING INVOLVING OUR LOVABLE-ALWAYS-GETS-IT-WRONG PETER.
TRINITY SUNDAY INCLUDES A READING, OTHERWISE, FROM PAUL.
TO ME PAUL IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT KIND OF CAT: HE’S SHARP AS A TACK, COMBATIVE, HE EVEN SEEMS DOWNRIGHT MEAN AND CRUEL AT TIMES. I FIND HIM IRASCIBLE, AND LIKE SOME OTHERS I KNOW, WE FIND HIM HARD TO LIKE.
(I DO HAVE ANOTHER THEORY – PAUL WAS SCOURGED, BEATEN, AND DRIVEN FROM TOWN TO TOWN. THE THEORY IS THAT IF THEY HAD ASPIRIN IN THOSE DAYS, LIKE I TAKE EVERY MORNING FOR MY ACHING JOINTS, MAYBE HE WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SO GROUCHY? THAT’S ANOTHER THEORY OF MINE I BET WOULDN’T HAVE FLOWN AT NICAEA.)
ANYHOW, EVEN IF PAUL WAS HERE TODAY, AND HE WAS IN HIS USUAL CRANKY MOOD TRYING TO EXPLAIN WHAT THE TRINITY IS, HE STILL MIGHT HAVE ENDED ON A CONCILIATORY NOTE, SAYING THE SAME THING TO YA’LL THAT HE WROTE IN HIS FIRST LETTER TO THE CORINTHIANS.
"IT’S OKAY IF YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, BECAUSE, “EVEN IF YOU UNDERSTOOD ALL MYSTERIES AND ALL KNOWLEDGE, BUT DIDN’T HAVE LOVE, YOU’D STILL BE NOTHING.”
KATE AND I DISCUSSED WHETHER ANYONE HAS EVER COME UP WITH A DEFINITIVE ANSWER TO WHAT THE TRINITY IS.
TO THAT I’D HAVE TO SAY, AFTER DOING ALL THE RESEARCH FOR THIS SERMON, I DON’T THINK SO.
THE TIMES I’VE BEEN CLOSEST TO UNDERSTANDING – TO CATCHING GLIMPSES OF THE KINGDOM PAUL WAS TALKING ABOUT - ARE WHEN I’VE WITNESSED TWO PEOPLE OF ENTIRELY DIFFERENT BACKGROUNDS PUT AWAY THEIR PRE-CONCEPTIONS, AND THE RULE BOOKS THEY’VE FOLLOWED ALL THEIR LIVES, TO ENTER A NEW RELATIONSHIP ON BEHALF OF OTHERS.
OR LIKE WHEN I WENT ON OUR VERY FIRST MISSION TRIP WITH THE YOUTH GROUP TO SAVANNAH, GEORGIA, ONE VERY HOT SUMMER, 10 YEARS AGO, TO REPAIR HOUSES FOR THE POOR AND ELDERLY, ALONG WITH 500 OTHER CHRISTIANS FROM ALL ACROSS THE COUNTRY.
THE EXPERIENCE I WENT THROUGH IS SOMETHING I’VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO ADEQUATELY DESCRIBE TO ANYONE ELSE AND STILL PROBABLY CAN’T TODAY.
I ONLY KNOW I APPROACHED THE DIVINE MYSTERY OF THE TRINITY, AS, JEANETTE SAYS, AS THE WORLD’S OLDEST TEENAGER, AND A WILLING CHILD--
--AND SOMETHING WONDERFUL HAPPENED DURING THE THURSDAY NIGHT PROGRAM WHEN I KNELT AT THE FOOT OF A CROSS IN A HIGH SCHOOL GYM NEXT TO A YOUNG MAN FROM THIS CHURCH NAMED WIL YOW.
LIFTED ALL WEEK BY THE LOVE, HARD WORK AND SACRIFICES BY THE YOUTH, AND GENTLE KINDNESS OF THE RESIDENTS WE SERVED IN RETURN, I PRAYED HARDER THAN I EVER HAD BEFORE IN MY OWN WAY, TO LET JESUS KNOW I WAS READY TO ACCEPT HIS INVITATION.
WHEN I AROSE FROM THE FLOOR THE WORLD DIDN’T LOOK THE SAME.
IT HAD THIS SORT OF GLOW, I THOUGHT, AS SWEET AS IT WAS ON THE FIRST DAY IN EDEN.
I FELT DIFFERENT TOO.
IT TURNED OUT, FOR ME, WHAT JESUS SAID TO GOOD OLD NICODEMUS, AND WHAT PAUL WROTE TO THE ROMANS, WAS TRUE: THAT I REALLY COULDN’T SEE WHAT THE KINGDOM OF GOD WAS ALL ABOUT UNTIL I’D LET MYSELF GO SO COMPLETELY SO I COULD BE BORN AGAIN NEW FROM ABOVE.
IN THE END, WE FIND, UNDERSTANDING THE TRINITY ISN’T SO HARD.
IN FACT, IT’S NOT SOMETHING YOU UNDERSTAND AT ALL.
IT'S AN INVITATION INSTEAD.
AN INVITATION TO A RELATIONSHIP ANYONE CAN JOIN JUST BY SAYING YES.
IN THE TRUCK COMING UP FROM FREDERICKSBURG THIS MORNING, CONNIE AND I HEARD AN OLD HYMN ON THE RADIO: THOUGH MILLIONS HAVE COME THERE’S STILL ROOM FOR ONE.
BE THE ONE.
SAY YES.
AMEN
Monday, June 8, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Incoming
It is said WFB would not cross the street without one.
As far as the Spotsyltuckian is concerned, not only is there one at the lab whilst blood is drawn, and at the garage during the annual Inspection, there is one stashed strategically at multiple clandestine locations so as to be conveniently at hand day and night.
It constitutes a major disturbance, a Class 3 hurricane, in fact, when immigrants must be accomodated into limited cordoned-off space.
At first it seems impossible.
An hysterical mob shouts "Miscellaneous!"
This clearly won't do.
A plan is negotiated in the small hours of a long session.
If 'Great-Idea' Adler plants his fat behind in the corner, and the Reformers and Jacobins march in to his right (indeed our Fat-A's done been criticized enough, already, for exalting Western thought above the others), therein lies a map to a renewed sense of familarility for all concerned.
This proves compatible to the schemes of the malleable American politicians reclining upstairs and below our Writer-exemplars.
Now it's possible for the transitional Europeans, John Henry Newman, portly John Ruskin, the Victorians, et al., to imperialize, claiming not one, but two, leaving, not unexpectedly, the Russians, isolated, paranoia confirmed.
Elie Wiesel slips in imperceptibly next to beloved Talmudic scholars alongside a multitude of eccumenical theologians engaged non-stop in what we can only hope is fruitful dialogue.
Undisturbed are the evil ones residing next to the story tellers, Latin, mostly, who make better sense of Fascists, than the Philosophers, above and to their right, or Left if it comes to that, by plumbing the depths of far mystical realms.
Founders and Civil War veterans guard the door while slaves enduring the Middle Passage speak truth to power.
All is as it was meant to be, once more, except tomorrow another wave of immigrants sails for Standhill House.
As far as the Spotsyltuckian is concerned, not only is there one at the lab whilst blood is drawn, and at the garage during the annual Inspection, there is one stashed strategically at multiple clandestine locations so as to be conveniently at hand day and night.
It constitutes a major disturbance, a Class 3 hurricane, in fact, when immigrants must be accomodated into limited cordoned-off space.
At first it seems impossible.
An hysterical mob shouts "Miscellaneous!"
This clearly won't do.
A plan is negotiated in the small hours of a long session.
If 'Great-Idea' Adler plants his fat behind in the corner, and the Reformers and Jacobins march in to his right (indeed our Fat-A's done been criticized enough, already, for exalting Western thought above the others), therein lies a map to a renewed sense of familarility for all concerned.
This proves compatible to the schemes of the malleable American politicians reclining upstairs and below our Writer-exemplars.
Now it's possible for the transitional Europeans, John Henry Newman, portly John Ruskin, the Victorians, et al., to imperialize, claiming not one, but two, leaving, not unexpectedly, the Russians, isolated, paranoia confirmed.
Elie Wiesel slips in imperceptibly next to beloved Talmudic scholars alongside a multitude of eccumenical theologians engaged non-stop in what we can only hope is fruitful dialogue.
Undisturbed are the evil ones residing next to the story tellers, Latin, mostly, who make better sense of Fascists, than the Philosophers, above and to their right, or Left if it comes to that, by plumbing the depths of far mystical realms.
Founders and Civil War veterans guard the door while slaves enduring the Middle Passage speak truth to power.
All is as it was meant to be, once more, except tomorrow another wave of immigrants sails for Standhill House.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Acts 10:44-48 Sermon, St. Margarets, May 17, 2009
During our family parish at Shrinemont a few weeks ago, Jeanell told us on the way up the mountain, she'd stopped at the store that's become a St. Margaret's tradition.
It's a place which sells incense, scented soaps, Grateful Dead tapestries, and strange garden gnomes riding Harleys.
Jeanell says when the lady behind the counter asked what brought her in, she replied, innocently, "our church calls this the hippie store."
The shoplady, highly offended, responded, "look around, do you see any bongs?"
Many of you might be shocked to know I was the one who came up with the name for the store, bought the tapestry, and that some folks may even have the impression I'm an old hippie.
It's unjust to be sterotyped as a person, or a store, but once in a great while, it can come in handy, which is does now, since this week's reading is from the Book of Acts --
which in fact, with its communal theme, is definitely counter-cultural, way hippie-ish.
Once up on the hill, there was this intense Southerner (ok, a sterotypical Redneck). We were reading Acts in Bible study when all of a sudden he stands up, shouting, "these early Christians were nothing but a bunch of Commies," and storms out never to be seen again.
True story.
He had a point -- viewed in a political light, the entire Bible is radically counter-cultural.
Early on, we see Moses reject the wealth, power and materialism of Pharoah to follow a higher law, God's law, to lead the Israelites on a 40-year nomadic exodus in the desert.
We see Jesus, much later on, not only overturn tables in the Temple, but in so many other ways, pose such a counter-cultural threat to the powers that be, He's ultimately crucified by His worldly enemies who are bound and determined to be rid of Him forever.
The Book of Acts tells the stories of small communities composed of Christians (and it's in this book the term "Christian" is first used) who've given up conventional cultural pursuits to live a counter-cultural communal life.
It's pretty much what authentic hippies had in mind.
In fact, there was a plan for 50,000 hippies to move to Vermont, elect Congressmen and Senators, and establish one gigantic commune...
But we forgot.
Whenever I mention Acts 10, especially, folks say, "is that really in the Bible because I've never read it."
I think what happens is people read the Bible all the way through in the usual way, starting at Genesis, reading the whole Old Testament, crossing that finishline, starting the New Testament, reading one Gospel, only to put it down, exhausted, meaning to come back to it one day, but don't...
By doing that, they miss a lot of counter-cultural stuff.
Acts in one of those post-Gospel books that's a real wild ride.
Except in today's reading, Acts 10:44-48, you can't really tell how wild it all is unless you go back a little ways to where Acts 10 begins.
If you do that, you find out what's going on, is that Peter, our lovable always gets it wrong Peter, finally gets it right -- and when he does that, it changes the world.
How much more counter-cultural can you get than that?
Let's set the scene (and I'll warn you up front, it's gets downright pyschedelic -- Jeanell, it's like taking a trip to the real hippie store).
Our story begins in Caesarea where recent archeological digs show the town was sort of an Israeli club med.
In Casearea, there lives a man called Cornelius.
Cornelius is a Centurian, not an officer, more like an NCO (a 1st Sgt, a Navy Chief, or a Drill Instructor; a tough guy like Lou Gossett in An Officer or a Gentleman, or my favorite, Sgt. Carter in Gomer Pyle).
We know Cornelius is in command of 100 soldiers.
We also know Cornelius is a God-fearer.
A God-fearer is a person who's spent a lot of time at a military duty station in a foreign land. The more time he spends there, the more he becomes, outwardly, like the people who live there (the Brits when they were occupying India used to call it going native).
But only to a point.
In this case, Cornelius the Roman has taken on some characteristics of being Jewish, for example, he respects and fears one monotheistic God. He lives ethically like the Jews in some ways -- he gives a lot to the poor.
But he hasn't gone all the way -- he's not circumcized. He doesn't keep a kosher house.
You wouldn't think that Cornelius, the tough guy, is the type of person prone to be receptive to the supernatural, but, nevertheless, he has a vision.
It's a vision of an angel.
The angel says, "God's noticed how generous you are to the poor. Here's what He wants you to do next. Send your troops to Joppa and order them to find a man called Peter."
At the same time this is going on, in Joppa, meanwhile, our dear lovable Peter goes up on the roof to pray, but so Peter-like, he's too hungry to concentrate.
Here's where it all gets trippy -- if you're the type of person who walks around with theme music in your head, push play for Steppenwolf's Magic Carpet Ride.
All of a sudden, up on the roof, Peter has a vision too (Acts is full of visions starting with Paul's on the road to Damascus, there are seven in all).
In Peter's vision, some type of sail, sheet or carpet, flies out of a hole in the sky and slowly floats to the ground held aloft by its four corners -- and roosting on the carpet are pigs, bats, snakes, frogs, toads, vultures, all matter of what's considered to be unclean at the time.
As Connie knows, all those animals (except the pig) freak me out, so, if this was my trip, id'd be a bad trip, so far...
A voice says, in Jewish-mother voice, "Peter, you're so hungry, so kill an animal already, eat a little."
Peter, ever the good Jewish boy, in Acts 13, replies, "no way, not only are the critters totally unclean, they're not kosher!"
The voice responds, "Listen and listen good. If God says the whole concept of what's clean or unclean, kosher or unkosher, is no longer in play for Christians, then from this day forward, that's the way it is!"
Either Peter has a solid rep for being really slow on the uptake, or this is really, really important, because God, in Acts 15 and 16, instant replays the flying carpet scene, three times.
It's only after the third tivo, that the carpet, with all critters thorougly dizzy by now I'm sure, flies back through the hole in the sky, which seals after itself.
Is this wild or what?
In the meantime, Cornelius' troops arrive downstairs and start to mill around in the street.
Peter's still on the roof trying to connect the dots, lost in a daze.
We all know God has infinite patience -- but even God's patience, at this point, in Acts 10:20, may be exhausted because He sends the Holy Spirit to the roof, to yell in Peter's ear, "Snap out of it! You've got visitors! Downstairs! Go! Now!"
Peter gets the message and goes downstairs where the troops say, "Cornelius the Centurion sent us. He's a God-fearer, even digs Jesus and all, but please understand, he's not a Christian. Even so, he had this vision. An angel told him to send us to get you."
The next morning, Peter, the troops, and some Christian hangers-on (who seem to have bit-parts but are important to the story later on) walk the 30 miles to Ceasarea to meet Cornelius.
When they first meet, Cornelius falls to his knees doing the "I'm not worthy" bit but Peter quickly says, "Rise, I'm just a man, like you, no more, no less."
Peter, ever the impetuous one as our Priest, Kate, describes him, then says (Chevy Chase-style), "I'm Jewish and you're not. Normally that means I wouldn't even give you the time of day. But I just had this vision - there was a carpet, and animals, and I was hungry, but I couldn't eat...but you know what God told me?"
Here's where our beloved Peter finally gets it right and shows he's learned the lesson which changes the world.
"You know what God was trying to teach me? That no matter who you are, or where you come from, if a people come to God, love Him, listen to Him, show Him some respect, and try their best to obey Him, then He'll love, heal and save them, no matter what they eat.
Or don't eat.
What's more, I know it's true, and so do twelve others, cause when we walked with Jesus in this world, He personally showed us, and what's more..."
But there's no reason for Peter to go on testifying because the gentiles are speaking in tongues the same as what happens on the day of the Pentecost when the Holy Spirit comes upon the crowd like a mighty wind.
When the hangers-on from Joppa (remember them?)witness this, they say, in unison apparently, "Well, we never -- we still don't think the Holy Spirit is present - how could it be - these are only gentiles, after all."
Peter responds so perfectly, so succintly, so elegantly, for once, in today's reading, Acts 10:44-48, "How could anyone not think it's time to baptize these people as Christians, the usual ritual way with water, cause obviously, you can see with your own eyes, they've already been baptized by the Holy Spirit."
In other words, "give me one good reason why not!"
You see, if Peter hadn't been convinced, like Paul had already been trying to persaude the headquarters office in Jerusalem, all along, that gentiles didn't need to be circucized or keep kosher, first, to become Christians, then Christianty today might consist only of small groups of Jews for Jesus!
When Peter understood what the great lesson of the flying carpet meant, it opened the door to sharing the good news with all the peoples of the world -- and remember, too, it's critical the gentiles in Ceasarea were baptized by the Holy Spirit before they were baptized by water.
Rules, old and new, were broken that day -- this is an ultimate counter-cultural happening in so many ways.
Before I read even read the Bible, or Book of Acts, I'd always been guided by the Book of Groucho, in which it is written, "I'd never want to join any club that would have someone like me as a member."
After I was baptized as an adult, and came to St. Maggies, I found, to my great surprise, I didn't feel like that so much --
whether it was serving harmoniously with folks from many other cultures, like Myra (may she rest in peace) and Sylvia on our joyful altar rail team for so many years;
or like when we had our youth groups going strong, we were famous for taking in strays regardless of origin. A lot of our kids didn't go to ohurch, or any, or may not even have been baptized, but to them, Youth Group, was church, their Acts faith community.
What's more, the Holy Spirit travelled with us wherever we went.
We were up in Baltimore, once, at the Mariner Arena, to attend an Acquire the Fire rally. There were at least 10,000 other kids and leaders there. As usual, we arrived on Friday evening when it opened and stayed through Saturday evening when it cloased.
Around 7 p.m. on Saturday, after we gathered the kids and stood up to leave, we leaders noticed, for the first time, we'd picked up yet another stray.
She was sitting there (I don't know where her own youth group was) softly crying.
We formed a circle around her to see what was the matter.
It turns out she was deaf.
She thought by the end of the rally she'd be healed.
So our ragtag group of kids and leaders (it was one of those trips I had corn-rows; I still had hair!) comforted her the best we could, said some prayers, and laid on hands in our way through hugs.
Why I ask, in this vast arena, thousands of people, hundreds of churches, did she end up with us?
Why did this happen time and time again wherever we went?
I think it's the same reason many out-of-step-with-the-world people, like myself, end up, despite Groucho's law, as members.
In fact, that's pretty much the point of the lesson today.
I still have a picture in my head of this young girl sitting there alone, as we left, waiting for her youth group to take her home.
And you know even if that girl wasn't healed on the spot, or that night at home, or the next week, I know she was healed in some way, in God's time and His way, eventually, and found peace.
If you can't accept that or say it's impossible, I'd respond to you, like Peter did to the hangers-on, "how can God, and we, not respond to someone who believes so purely, and has obviously already been baptized by the Holy Spirit?"
Give me one good reason why not.
One other story out of that Acquire the Fire rally, one closer to home.
One of our youth came from a military family -- his father was even a tough NCO-type like Cornelius. A few years before, his mother had moved to another state.
As a defense mechanism, probably, to guard against additional pain, the child overcompensated with a macho attitude. He tended to resort to pushing and shoving to get his way. I remember seeing him at a lock-in once kicking another kid, my beloved Tony in fact, in the head, while Tony was lying on the ground.
Now, a lot of the time at an Acquire the Fire rally, there's a lot of noise and loud music, flashing lights, screaming videos and such. But, for a few minutes, a couple of times during a weekend, it gets very quiet when they conduct altar calls.
At this rally, they asked the kids to come down onto the arena floor from the bleachers and pray to forgive anyone in their lives who'd even done them any harm.
So, the kids went down, and I with them, and we're on the floor, kneeling, arms around each other, holding tight, and all of a sudden, I feel a slight tap on my shoulder.
It's the hardcore kid.
We opened the circle and he knelt with us.
God must've given him the strength he needed for he let all that anger and rage loose in torrents of tears for thirty minutes.
I reckon he had a lot to forgive.
Months later, it was the end of the school year and his dad had been transferred to the West Coast. I was driving him home from a youth group meeting for the last time.
I intended to just drop him off quickly and go.
As I pull up in the parking lot, he turns to me and says, "I guess you need a hug."
I don't remember all his background - don't know if he was baptized or confirmed in the Episcopal Church, or any.
For all I know, he might as well have been a gentile.
But there it was -- for you see on a cold day in Baltimore, six months before, at that rally, what I do know is that he'd been baptized by the Holy Spirit and it had changed his life.
If you can't believe the same can happen to you, or anyone, I'd have to say, "How can God not respond to you like He did to that child, or any person such as you, or me."
Give me one good reason why not.
I've been puzzled as to why it's so hard to rein this church in during the exchange of the peace. Now I realize it's because this is such a 'I guess you need a hug,' kind of place.
So, here's a challenge for ya'll today - an opportunity to break a rule and create your own counter-culture. When we pass the peace, instead of saying "Peace be with you," say, "I guess you need a hug."
Then, when you leave here to go out in the world, your challenge next week, is to boldy share your faith, just like Peter did with Cornelius, and invite someone, gentile or not, to become a part of this Acts community.
If you don't think you can, give yourself one good reason why not.
Amen
It's a place which sells incense, scented soaps, Grateful Dead tapestries, and strange garden gnomes riding Harleys.
Jeanell says when the lady behind the counter asked what brought her in, she replied, innocently, "our church calls this the hippie store."
The shoplady, highly offended, responded, "look around, do you see any bongs?"
Many of you might be shocked to know I was the one who came up with the name for the store, bought the tapestry, and that some folks may even have the impression I'm an old hippie.
It's unjust to be sterotyped as a person, or a store, but once in a great while, it can come in handy, which is does now, since this week's reading is from the Book of Acts --
which in fact, with its communal theme, is definitely counter-cultural, way hippie-ish.
Once up on the hill, there was this intense Southerner (ok, a sterotypical Redneck). We were reading Acts in Bible study when all of a sudden he stands up, shouting, "these early Christians were nothing but a bunch of Commies," and storms out never to be seen again.
True story.
He had a point -- viewed in a political light, the entire Bible is radically counter-cultural.
Early on, we see Moses reject the wealth, power and materialism of Pharoah to follow a higher law, God's law, to lead the Israelites on a 40-year nomadic exodus in the desert.
We see Jesus, much later on, not only overturn tables in the Temple, but in so many other ways, pose such a counter-cultural threat to the powers that be, He's ultimately crucified by His worldly enemies who are bound and determined to be rid of Him forever.
The Book of Acts tells the stories of small communities composed of Christians (and it's in this book the term "Christian" is first used) who've given up conventional cultural pursuits to live a counter-cultural communal life.
It's pretty much what authentic hippies had in mind.
In fact, there was a plan for 50,000 hippies to move to Vermont, elect Congressmen and Senators, and establish one gigantic commune...
But we forgot.
Whenever I mention Acts 10, especially, folks say, "is that really in the Bible because I've never read it."
I think what happens is people read the Bible all the way through in the usual way, starting at Genesis, reading the whole Old Testament, crossing that finishline, starting the New Testament, reading one Gospel, only to put it down, exhausted, meaning to come back to it one day, but don't...
By doing that, they miss a lot of counter-cultural stuff.
Acts in one of those post-Gospel books that's a real wild ride.
Except in today's reading, Acts 10:44-48, you can't really tell how wild it all is unless you go back a little ways to where Acts 10 begins.
If you do that, you find out what's going on, is that Peter, our lovable always gets it wrong Peter, finally gets it right -- and when he does that, it changes the world.
How much more counter-cultural can you get than that?
Let's set the scene (and I'll warn you up front, it's gets downright pyschedelic -- Jeanell, it's like taking a trip to the real hippie store).
Our story begins in Caesarea where recent archeological digs show the town was sort of an Israeli club med.
In Casearea, there lives a man called Cornelius.
Cornelius is a Centurian, not an officer, more like an NCO (a 1st Sgt, a Navy Chief, or a Drill Instructor; a tough guy like Lou Gossett in An Officer or a Gentleman, or my favorite, Sgt. Carter in Gomer Pyle).
We know Cornelius is in command of 100 soldiers.
We also know Cornelius is a God-fearer.
A God-fearer is a person who's spent a lot of time at a military duty station in a foreign land. The more time he spends there, the more he becomes, outwardly, like the people who live there (the Brits when they were occupying India used to call it going native).
But only to a point.
In this case, Cornelius the Roman has taken on some characteristics of being Jewish, for example, he respects and fears one monotheistic God. He lives ethically like the Jews in some ways -- he gives a lot to the poor.
But he hasn't gone all the way -- he's not circumcized. He doesn't keep a kosher house.
You wouldn't think that Cornelius, the tough guy, is the type of person prone to be receptive to the supernatural, but, nevertheless, he has a vision.
It's a vision of an angel.
The angel says, "God's noticed how generous you are to the poor. Here's what He wants you to do next. Send your troops to Joppa and order them to find a man called Peter."
At the same time this is going on, in Joppa, meanwhile, our dear lovable Peter goes up on the roof to pray, but so Peter-like, he's too hungry to concentrate.
Here's where it all gets trippy -- if you're the type of person who walks around with theme music in your head, push play for Steppenwolf's Magic Carpet Ride.
All of a sudden, up on the roof, Peter has a vision too (Acts is full of visions starting with Paul's on the road to Damascus, there are seven in all).
In Peter's vision, some type of sail, sheet or carpet, flies out of a hole in the sky and slowly floats to the ground held aloft by its four corners -- and roosting on the carpet are pigs, bats, snakes, frogs, toads, vultures, all matter of what's considered to be unclean at the time.
As Connie knows, all those animals (except the pig) freak me out, so, if this was my trip, id'd be a bad trip, so far...
A voice says, in Jewish-mother voice, "Peter, you're so hungry, so kill an animal already, eat a little."
Peter, ever the good Jewish boy, in Acts 13, replies, "no way, not only are the critters totally unclean, they're not kosher!"
The voice responds, "Listen and listen good. If God says the whole concept of what's clean or unclean, kosher or unkosher, is no longer in play for Christians, then from this day forward, that's the way it is!"
Either Peter has a solid rep for being really slow on the uptake, or this is really, really important, because God, in Acts 15 and 16, instant replays the flying carpet scene, three times.
It's only after the third tivo, that the carpet, with all critters thorougly dizzy by now I'm sure, flies back through the hole in the sky, which seals after itself.
Is this wild or what?
In the meantime, Cornelius' troops arrive downstairs and start to mill around in the street.
Peter's still on the roof trying to connect the dots, lost in a daze.
We all know God has infinite patience -- but even God's patience, at this point, in Acts 10:20, may be exhausted because He sends the Holy Spirit to the roof, to yell in Peter's ear, "Snap out of it! You've got visitors! Downstairs! Go! Now!"
Peter gets the message and goes downstairs where the troops say, "Cornelius the Centurion sent us. He's a God-fearer, even digs Jesus and all, but please understand, he's not a Christian. Even so, he had this vision. An angel told him to send us to get you."
The next morning, Peter, the troops, and some Christian hangers-on (who seem to have bit-parts but are important to the story later on) walk the 30 miles to Ceasarea to meet Cornelius.
When they first meet, Cornelius falls to his knees doing the "I'm not worthy" bit but Peter quickly says, "Rise, I'm just a man, like you, no more, no less."
Peter, ever the impetuous one as our Priest, Kate, describes him, then says (Chevy Chase-style), "I'm Jewish and you're not. Normally that means I wouldn't even give you the time of day. But I just had this vision - there was a carpet, and animals, and I was hungry, but I couldn't eat...but you know what God told me?"
Here's where our beloved Peter finally gets it right and shows he's learned the lesson which changes the world.
"You know what God was trying to teach me? That no matter who you are, or where you come from, if a people come to God, love Him, listen to Him, show Him some respect, and try their best to obey Him, then He'll love, heal and save them, no matter what they eat.
Or don't eat.
What's more, I know it's true, and so do twelve others, cause when we walked with Jesus in this world, He personally showed us, and what's more..."
But there's no reason for Peter to go on testifying because the gentiles are speaking in tongues the same as what happens on the day of the Pentecost when the Holy Spirit comes upon the crowd like a mighty wind.
When the hangers-on from Joppa (remember them?)witness this, they say, in unison apparently, "Well, we never -- we still don't think the Holy Spirit is present - how could it be - these are only gentiles, after all."
Peter responds so perfectly, so succintly, so elegantly, for once, in today's reading, Acts 10:44-48, "How could anyone not think it's time to baptize these people as Christians, the usual ritual way with water, cause obviously, you can see with your own eyes, they've already been baptized by the Holy Spirit."
In other words, "give me one good reason why not!"
You see, if Peter hadn't been convinced, like Paul had already been trying to persaude the headquarters office in Jerusalem, all along, that gentiles didn't need to be circucized or keep kosher, first, to become Christians, then Christianty today might consist only of small groups of Jews for Jesus!
When Peter understood what the great lesson of the flying carpet meant, it opened the door to sharing the good news with all the peoples of the world -- and remember, too, it's critical the gentiles in Ceasarea were baptized by the Holy Spirit before they were baptized by water.
Rules, old and new, were broken that day -- this is an ultimate counter-cultural happening in so many ways.
Before I read even read the Bible, or Book of Acts, I'd always been guided by the Book of Groucho, in which it is written, "I'd never want to join any club that would have someone like me as a member."
After I was baptized as an adult, and came to St. Maggies, I found, to my great surprise, I didn't feel like that so much --
whether it was serving harmoniously with folks from many other cultures, like Myra (may she rest in peace) and Sylvia on our joyful altar rail team for so many years;
or like when we had our youth groups going strong, we were famous for taking in strays regardless of origin. A lot of our kids didn't go to ohurch, or any, or may not even have been baptized, but to them, Youth Group, was church, their Acts faith community.
What's more, the Holy Spirit travelled with us wherever we went.
We were up in Baltimore, once, at the Mariner Arena, to attend an Acquire the Fire rally. There were at least 10,000 other kids and leaders there. As usual, we arrived on Friday evening when it opened and stayed through Saturday evening when it cloased.
Around 7 p.m. on Saturday, after we gathered the kids and stood up to leave, we leaders noticed, for the first time, we'd picked up yet another stray.
She was sitting there (I don't know where her own youth group was) softly crying.
We formed a circle around her to see what was the matter.
It turns out she was deaf.
She thought by the end of the rally she'd be healed.
So our ragtag group of kids and leaders (it was one of those trips I had corn-rows; I still had hair!) comforted her the best we could, said some prayers, and laid on hands in our way through hugs.
Why I ask, in this vast arena, thousands of people, hundreds of churches, did she end up with us?
Why did this happen time and time again wherever we went?
I think it's the same reason many out-of-step-with-the-world people, like myself, end up, despite Groucho's law, as members.
In fact, that's pretty much the point of the lesson today.
I still have a picture in my head of this young girl sitting there alone, as we left, waiting for her youth group to take her home.
And you know even if that girl wasn't healed on the spot, or that night at home, or the next week, I know she was healed in some way, in God's time and His way, eventually, and found peace.
If you can't accept that or say it's impossible, I'd respond to you, like Peter did to the hangers-on, "how can God, and we, not respond to someone who believes so purely, and has obviously already been baptized by the Holy Spirit?"
Give me one good reason why not.
One other story out of that Acquire the Fire rally, one closer to home.
One of our youth came from a military family -- his father was even a tough NCO-type like Cornelius. A few years before, his mother had moved to another state.
As a defense mechanism, probably, to guard against additional pain, the child overcompensated with a macho attitude. He tended to resort to pushing and shoving to get his way. I remember seeing him at a lock-in once kicking another kid, my beloved Tony in fact, in the head, while Tony was lying on the ground.
Now, a lot of the time at an Acquire the Fire rally, there's a lot of noise and loud music, flashing lights, screaming videos and such. But, for a few minutes, a couple of times during a weekend, it gets very quiet when they conduct altar calls.
At this rally, they asked the kids to come down onto the arena floor from the bleachers and pray to forgive anyone in their lives who'd even done them any harm.
So, the kids went down, and I with them, and we're on the floor, kneeling, arms around each other, holding tight, and all of a sudden, I feel a slight tap on my shoulder.
It's the hardcore kid.
We opened the circle and he knelt with us.
God must've given him the strength he needed for he let all that anger and rage loose in torrents of tears for thirty minutes.
I reckon he had a lot to forgive.
Months later, it was the end of the school year and his dad had been transferred to the West Coast. I was driving him home from a youth group meeting for the last time.
I intended to just drop him off quickly and go.
As I pull up in the parking lot, he turns to me and says, "I guess you need a hug."
I don't remember all his background - don't know if he was baptized or confirmed in the Episcopal Church, or any.
For all I know, he might as well have been a gentile.
But there it was -- for you see on a cold day in Baltimore, six months before, at that rally, what I do know is that he'd been baptized by the Holy Spirit and it had changed his life.
If you can't believe the same can happen to you, or anyone, I'd have to say, "How can God not respond to you like He did to that child, or any person such as you, or me."
Give me one good reason why not.
I've been puzzled as to why it's so hard to rein this church in during the exchange of the peace. Now I realize it's because this is such a 'I guess you need a hug,' kind of place.
So, here's a challenge for ya'll today - an opportunity to break a rule and create your own counter-culture. When we pass the peace, instead of saying "Peace be with you," say, "I guess you need a hug."
Then, when you leave here to go out in the world, your challenge next week, is to boldy share your faith, just like Peter did with Cornelius, and invite someone, gentile or not, to become a part of this Acts community.
If you don't think you can, give yourself one good reason why not.
Amen
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Silver French Horn
We stand on the practice field in formation.
After pleading four times to be excused, Gordon O'Hara sneers a response.
When the rains come, O'Hara bugles retreat, pleading, "don't run!"
Unlike first, second and fourth chairs, carrying hand-me-down public school symphony horns or tarnished brass marching horns, third chair cradles personal silver.
Third chair runs.
The bell of a crushed silver french horn resembles crumpled tin foil.
A NY Times rememberance of a music teacher in a hardpressed Ohio town who witnesses a student in more affluent days celebrate graduation by smashing a violin (a spare) precedes the story of a gifted prodigy who chooses Sonic short money over studying music.
Has there always been a 'monetize' tab on the blog template?
Christopher Clark's review of High Society in the Third Reich reveals, "a customized policy of tax rebates for the performing arts; artists themselves were left in no doubt that these were individual settlements through which each beneficiary entered into a relationship with the holders of power."
Immediately saying yes after receiving one quote of three to build a fence.
Mitch, may he rest in peace, advised, "you stand where you sit."
After the election, and ahead, Coleman announces if he were Franken he would not waste taxpayers monies pursuing a re-count.
Coleman begins day, waiting, in ritual Orthodox prayer.
Hypocrisy folds.
Landon Thomas writes current English industrial strikes over factory bankruptcies bring back the good old days, "like we are all together now, fighting for a cause."
Nostalgic, even, I suppose, unless you're the one waiting for a train.
Toni's Paul D recalls "then came the miracle. He heard a whiteman call him to help unload two trunks from a coach cab. Afterward the whiteman gave him a coin. He saw a greencrocer selling vegetables. He pointed to a bunch of turnips. The grocer handed them to him, took his one coin and gave him several more. Stunned, he backed away. Looking around, he saw that nobody seemed interested in the 'mistake' or him, so he walked along, happily chewing turnips."
Years ago at the track in Wembley a teller turned down a five pound bet directing the scruffy lad before her to the two pound window.
A fortune to be made left on the table.
For the anxious, the-not-paid, to monetize risks compromising a luxury of options long taken for granted.
After pleading four times to be excused, Gordon O'Hara sneers a response.
When the rains come, O'Hara bugles retreat, pleading, "don't run!"
Unlike first, second and fourth chairs, carrying hand-me-down public school symphony horns or tarnished brass marching horns, third chair cradles personal silver.
Third chair runs.
The bell of a crushed silver french horn resembles crumpled tin foil.
A NY Times rememberance of a music teacher in a hardpressed Ohio town who witnesses a student in more affluent days celebrate graduation by smashing a violin (a spare) precedes the story of a gifted prodigy who chooses Sonic short money over studying music.
Has there always been a 'monetize' tab on the blog template?
Christopher Clark's review of High Society in the Third Reich reveals, "a customized policy of tax rebates for the performing arts; artists themselves were left in no doubt that these were individual settlements through which each beneficiary entered into a relationship with the holders of power."
Immediately saying yes after receiving one quote of three to build a fence.
Mitch, may he rest in peace, advised, "you stand where you sit."
After the election, and ahead, Coleman announces if he were Franken he would not waste taxpayers monies pursuing a re-count.
Coleman begins day, waiting, in ritual Orthodox prayer.
Hypocrisy folds.
Landon Thomas writes current English industrial strikes over factory bankruptcies bring back the good old days, "like we are all together now, fighting for a cause."
Nostalgic, even, I suppose, unless you're the one waiting for a train.
Toni's Paul D recalls "then came the miracle. He heard a whiteman call him to help unload two trunks from a coach cab. Afterward the whiteman gave him a coin. He saw a greencrocer selling vegetables. He pointed to a bunch of turnips. The grocer handed them to him, took his one coin and gave him several more. Stunned, he backed away. Looking around, he saw that nobody seemed interested in the 'mistake' or him, so he walked along, happily chewing turnips."
Years ago at the track in Wembley a teller turned down a five pound bet directing the scruffy lad before her to the two pound window.
A fortune to be made left on the table.
For the anxious, the-not-paid, to monetize risks compromising a luxury of options long taken for granted.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Usual Circumspects
Don't you hate it when you can't place a face?
Watching Law & Order, last Monday, the guru looked so familiar there was no rest until the mystery was solved.
Turns out he's Greg German, Fish, from Ally McBeal.
Our featured philosopher of the month, I. Murdoch, says "the thought is not the words (if any) but the words occuring in a certain way with, as it were, a certain force and color."
Problem is, once we place Fish in the certain way of a repetitive sitcom, he's taken on the color of Fish, forever.
On the other hand, locating something in a repetitive context can allow for useful distance on a painful subject.
Just as we enquired last week if Logan is entitled to the legacy of 60's music, minus its values, is the Spotsyltuckian entitled to teach on slavery, as a tour guide, within the repetitive context of a Southern plantation tour?
Kal-El wasn't one of the 100,000 imprisoned Kandorians, yet, thus far, on New Krypton, he's progessing beyond his undercover surveillance assignment to incorporate value-laden teaching moments. When Aunt Alura yearns nostalgically for a reunion of scientic and artistic guilds, Kal refers to Mandelbrot-Julie sets; how art's aesthetic appeal, tethered to complex structures of nature, manufactures the elegant details upon which to ponder.
Alura and Kal are forming an identification of shared language.
For Spotsy, the traditional Gospel/Spirituals in the Lift Every Voice and Sing hymnal, as sung in the repetitive context of Sunday church, forge a shared language, all the more, once learned the hymns incorporate Underground Railroad code.
Maya says "she who does not know where she has come from cannot possibly guide a path to where she has to go," though Quincy warns "it can bring tremendous peace or open all wounds."
When the question is put to Shirley, she says 'you ought to know better than that - each and every tour group must walk the same tour, for not to do that, is to slight those there to witness, whether or not, the process stirs discomfort in the narrator.'
Up till now, it's a Western legacy which has most influenced Spotsyl thought: per Tolkien (our other prominent thinker of the month), for example, "the Light of Valinor is the light of art undivorced from reason, that sees both scientific (or philosophically) and imaginatively, and says that they are good."
The West is making room in Spotsyltucky for the shared languages of Diaz and Morrison.
Perhaps, ultimately, in the literary universe, the Oxfordian John Ruskin claims (even if we would wish otherwise), "art can not be divorced from social realities."
Can hope be found, as reported in Vanity Fair, that the 'dirty secret of conservative talk radio is listeners average age 67?' The Speaker of the Iowa (Iowa!) House confirms the statistic succintly, when, after a surprising victory there on marriage equality, he says, 'the battle is lost. His children simply do not care about what fuels aging, vanishing, prejudices.'
In the ebulient age of Obama, where fascists continue to obscenely cite abolitionists to justify a fast waning majority dominance, isn't open discussion of slavery, despite the unease of the guide, a good way (in Lloyd Garrisonian/Edward Carpenterian fashion) to promote progressive values, which once displayed, carry the dual possibility of not only honoring the victims of one historical experience of oppression but by planting seeds to do away with all oppressions which still plague our common humanity?
Watching Law & Order, last Monday, the guru looked so familiar there was no rest until the mystery was solved.
Turns out he's Greg German, Fish, from Ally McBeal.
Our featured philosopher of the month, I. Murdoch, says "the thought is not the words (if any) but the words occuring in a certain way with, as it were, a certain force and color."
Problem is, once we place Fish in the certain way of a repetitive sitcom, he's taken on the color of Fish, forever.
On the other hand, locating something in a repetitive context can allow for useful distance on a painful subject.
Just as we enquired last week if Logan is entitled to the legacy of 60's music, minus its values, is the Spotsyltuckian entitled to teach on slavery, as a tour guide, within the repetitive context of a Southern plantation tour?
Kal-El wasn't one of the 100,000 imprisoned Kandorians, yet, thus far, on New Krypton, he's progessing beyond his undercover surveillance assignment to incorporate value-laden teaching moments. When Aunt Alura yearns nostalgically for a reunion of scientic and artistic guilds, Kal refers to Mandelbrot-Julie sets; how art's aesthetic appeal, tethered to complex structures of nature, manufactures the elegant details upon which to ponder.
Alura and Kal are forming an identification of shared language.
For Spotsy, the traditional Gospel/Spirituals in the Lift Every Voice and Sing hymnal, as sung in the repetitive context of Sunday church, forge a shared language, all the more, once learned the hymns incorporate Underground Railroad code.
Maya says "she who does not know where she has come from cannot possibly guide a path to where she has to go," though Quincy warns "it can bring tremendous peace or open all wounds."
When the question is put to Shirley, she says 'you ought to know better than that - each and every tour group must walk the same tour, for not to do that, is to slight those there to witness, whether or not, the process stirs discomfort in the narrator.'
Up till now, it's a Western legacy which has most influenced Spotsyl thought: per Tolkien (our other prominent thinker of the month), for example, "the Light of Valinor is the light of art undivorced from reason, that sees both scientific (or philosophically) and imaginatively, and says that they are good."
The West is making room in Spotsyltucky for the shared languages of Diaz and Morrison.
Perhaps, ultimately, in the literary universe, the Oxfordian John Ruskin claims (even if we would wish otherwise), "art can not be divorced from social realities."
Can hope be found, as reported in Vanity Fair, that the 'dirty secret of conservative talk radio is listeners average age 67?' The Speaker of the Iowa (Iowa!) House confirms the statistic succintly, when, after a surprising victory there on marriage equality, he says, 'the battle is lost. His children simply do not care about what fuels aging, vanishing, prejudices.'
In the ebulient age of Obama, where fascists continue to obscenely cite abolitionists to justify a fast waning majority dominance, isn't open discussion of slavery, despite the unease of the guide, a good way (in Lloyd Garrisonian/Edward Carpenterian fashion) to promote progressive values, which once displayed, carry the dual possibility of not only honoring the victims of one historical experience of oppression but by planting seeds to do away with all oppressions which still plague our common humanity?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Letter to Logan
There was a moment thirty years ago when "I can tell by your clothes you're from the other side," fell apart.
Sure, Logan, it's cool your uncle is Jim Dandy, and you break bread with Ted Nugent, and all, but how does that, by itself, entitle you to the legacy?
We all should've known better (Mr. Young was right) when Skynard sang "we all did what we could do" for the Guvnor that they weren't talking no Southern abolitionism.
How did a generation's disassociation become so prevalent, it allows for your fellow collegian at the multi-cultural street festival last Saturday to stand behind a "God isn't White" sign and dually confess membership in a Anglican mission church?
"Honey, it's African, but it's still homophobic!"
Tolkein writes, "a small quantity of history depresses us with the sense of the ever-lasting weight of human inquity but as long as we cling to the Good, we can finally prevail."
--and so it is at the next booth -- buying the King/Obama calendar -- agreeing with the proprietoress, "now we're getting somewhere."
Protestors outside Fonda's new play in New York aren't getting anywhere: 'hey, we were right about the Immoral War. We aint apologizing no more. We mourn your dead and our own'.
Even so, Van Dyke Parks is right to question upon the demise of Buffalo Springfield drummer Dewey Martin, "considering the collectivism and socialist ideals that inspired the group, it baffles me that the discrepancy in fortunes of each of them aren't somehow an issue."
(Query: when Clive Davis signed Dylan/Joplin to Columbia, what side was he on, now we see he's 'evolved' to Idol impressario?)
Of the living Dead, David Cavanagh writes, on how they perform "a theory of geometric musical complexity applied so subtly as to obfuscate the abstract-concrete distinction; and our way of life," to which Rock Scully adds, "most of our history has to do with sociology not music."
(Phish/Metallica crack down on merchandisers/downloaders; the Dead sanction tapers.)
Although Jay Garrick admires Barry Allen (FL-1) as "the man who refused to blur the line between good and evil," we agree more with I. Murdoch, and this is really important, Logan, for purposes of this discussion, that "good art (more than technical virtuoso alone, mind you) may resist bad purposes more successfully."
Such absolutism costs deeply, as even Allen admits, when he "ran into the speed force and joined it, it was like shedding my identity. I completely lost any concept of who I was. My individuality vanished. My connection to Iris, my family, my friends."
I know, Logan, all too well, how hard it is to resist a colorful display of regional authority -- when Prankster chides Supes for his "overblown sense of righteousness," I must confess, seeing the abstraction of the uniform never fails to stirs deep realms of Kentian family values and nationalism--
--which only goes to show, warns Bryan Magee, "there is simply no way in which value judgments can not be structural to the writing."
Despite an encyclopedic knowledge of the relevant arcana, it's surprising you aren't familiar with Waits (although he arrived on the scene in the late 70's, strictly outside classic parameters) of whom Barney Hoskyns writes, he "turned himself into a work of art that blurred the distance between the private and professional selves," which is what we did, Logan, and are, by doing what we do in opposition to the likes of Wallace, racism and war.
Tolkein tells us, it's through myth that a world exists which is "essentially truer than the one we think we see around us everyday."
A truer world, my friend, propelled by, indivisible to, the music which births it.
Sure, Logan, it's cool your uncle is Jim Dandy, and you break bread with Ted Nugent, and all, but how does that, by itself, entitle you to the legacy?
We all should've known better (Mr. Young was right) when Skynard sang "we all did what we could do" for the Guvnor that they weren't talking no Southern abolitionism.
How did a generation's disassociation become so prevalent, it allows for your fellow collegian at the multi-cultural street festival last Saturday to stand behind a "God isn't White" sign and dually confess membership in a Anglican mission church?
"Honey, it's African, but it's still homophobic!"
Tolkein writes, "a small quantity of history depresses us with the sense of the ever-lasting weight of human inquity but as long as we cling to the Good, we can finally prevail."
--and so it is at the next booth -- buying the King/Obama calendar -- agreeing with the proprietoress, "now we're getting somewhere."
Protestors outside Fonda's new play in New York aren't getting anywhere: 'hey, we were right about the Immoral War. We aint apologizing no more. We mourn your dead and our own'.
Even so, Van Dyke Parks is right to question upon the demise of Buffalo Springfield drummer Dewey Martin, "considering the collectivism and socialist ideals that inspired the group, it baffles me that the discrepancy in fortunes of each of them aren't somehow an issue."
(Query: when Clive Davis signed Dylan/Joplin to Columbia, what side was he on, now we see he's 'evolved' to Idol impressario?)
Of the living Dead, David Cavanagh writes, on how they perform "a theory of geometric musical complexity applied so subtly as to obfuscate the abstract-concrete distinction; and our way of life," to which Rock Scully adds, "most of our history has to do with sociology not music."
(Phish/Metallica crack down on merchandisers/downloaders; the Dead sanction tapers.)
Although Jay Garrick admires Barry Allen (FL-1) as "the man who refused to blur the line between good and evil," we agree more with I. Murdoch, and this is really important, Logan, for purposes of this discussion, that "good art (more than technical virtuoso alone, mind you) may resist bad purposes more successfully."
Such absolutism costs deeply, as even Allen admits, when he "ran into the speed force and joined it, it was like shedding my identity. I completely lost any concept of who I was. My individuality vanished. My connection to Iris, my family, my friends."
I know, Logan, all too well, how hard it is to resist a colorful display of regional authority -- when Prankster chides Supes for his "overblown sense of righteousness," I must confess, seeing the abstraction of the uniform never fails to stirs deep realms of Kentian family values and nationalism--
--which only goes to show, warns Bryan Magee, "there is simply no way in which value judgments can not be structural to the writing."
Despite an encyclopedic knowledge of the relevant arcana, it's surprising you aren't familiar with Waits (although he arrived on the scene in the late 70's, strictly outside classic parameters) of whom Barney Hoskyns writes, he "turned himself into a work of art that blurred the distance between the private and professional selves," which is what we did, Logan, and are, by doing what we do in opposition to the likes of Wallace, racism and war.
Tolkein tells us, it's through myth that a world exists which is "essentially truer than the one we think we see around us everyday."
A truer world, my friend, propelled by, indivisible to, the music which births it.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Becalmed
Luthor isn't wrong about everything.
When Supes appoints Mon-el, guardian, alongside a second official Guardian (subtle much?), while he flies off undercover to New Krypton, Jimmy, elegantly, eloquently, on humanity's behalf, postulates Luthor's premise: "maybe it's time I manned up."
Mon-el further fosters Jimmy's co-dependence furnishing a signal watch attuned to a new frequency.
On the other hand, Luthor would cheer -- letters of protest to the editor long abandoned -- now that the citizenry are manning up, arming in a frenzy, fearing a 'perfect storm,' of 1) economic collapse; 2) civil unrest (racism); 3) gun law restrictions --
--investing a landscape lit by ignoble fear custom made by/for them.
Defenders, once hailed, are now Prosecutors (fortunately Sam Waterson is no E.G Marshall and will never be).
Per Wordsworth:
Ah me, that all
the terrors, all the early miseries,
regrets, vexations, lassitudes, that all
the thought and feelings which have been
infused
Into my mind, should ever have made up
the calm existence that is mine when I
am worthy of myself.
Ah, yes, a worthy calm existence (perfect stanza's) as formulated in:
a library;
a book;
a page;
a panel--
--are sorely missing in the new County library resembling a chain bookstore.
The absence of aisles, repetitive tall stacks, square gardens, obliterates the solitudinous shadow required to examine life.
Bolano asks, then, 'is calm the opposite of madness,' and answers, absolutely not.
Yet when Bolano loses the thread of even a flimsy McGuffin, i.e., the search for an obscure writer, he is abandoned, just as he dismisses ethics, duty, honesty, curiosity, love, bravery and art, all in the same breath.
I. Murdoch contends, "a deep motive for making art of any sort is the desire to defeat the formlessness of the world and cheer oneself up by constructing forms out of what might otherwise seem a mass of senseless rubble."
Embracing spiritual warfare, for example, constructs forms of heroic drama, yet its cheerless, aggressive, nature, menances far too arrogantly to achieve the synthesis of a Trinitarian Justice League that will inevitably be subsumed by an ordered Anglo-American landscape.
Something like the Psalms, meant to be sung ascending the measured steps of Solomon's Temple, balances an untamed grace panelled in manageable red-letter captions.
When Supes appoints Mon-el, guardian, alongside a second official Guardian (subtle much?), while he flies off undercover to New Krypton, Jimmy, elegantly, eloquently, on humanity's behalf, postulates Luthor's premise: "maybe it's time I manned up."
Mon-el further fosters Jimmy's co-dependence furnishing a signal watch attuned to a new frequency.
On the other hand, Luthor would cheer -- letters of protest to the editor long abandoned -- now that the citizenry are manning up, arming in a frenzy, fearing a 'perfect storm,' of 1) economic collapse; 2) civil unrest (racism); 3) gun law restrictions --
--investing a landscape lit by ignoble fear custom made by/for them.
Defenders, once hailed, are now Prosecutors (fortunately Sam Waterson is no E.G Marshall and will never be).
Per Wordsworth:
Ah me, that all
the terrors, all the early miseries,
regrets, vexations, lassitudes, that all
the thought and feelings which have been
infused
Into my mind, should ever have made up
the calm existence that is mine when I
am worthy of myself.
Ah, yes, a worthy calm existence (perfect stanza's) as formulated in:
a library;
a book;
a page;
a panel--
--are sorely missing in the new County library resembling a chain bookstore.
The absence of aisles, repetitive tall stacks, square gardens, obliterates the solitudinous shadow required to examine life.
Bolano asks, then, 'is calm the opposite of madness,' and answers, absolutely not.
Yet when Bolano loses the thread of even a flimsy McGuffin, i.e., the search for an obscure writer, he is abandoned, just as he dismisses ethics, duty, honesty, curiosity, love, bravery and art, all in the same breath.
I. Murdoch contends, "a deep motive for making art of any sort is the desire to defeat the formlessness of the world and cheer oneself up by constructing forms out of what might otherwise seem a mass of senseless rubble."
Embracing spiritual warfare, for example, constructs forms of heroic drama, yet its cheerless, aggressive, nature, menances far too arrogantly to achieve the synthesis of a Trinitarian Justice League that will inevitably be subsumed by an ordered Anglo-American landscape.
Something like the Psalms, meant to be sung ascending the measured steps of Solomon's Temple, balances an untamed grace panelled in manageable red-letter captions.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Best Chart Ever
It's not the courage of teenagers which makes the most impression; it is the language of attorney's:
"The only reason the School Board wants the club banned is because the name, Gay-Straight Alliance, violates the Board's abstinence-only policy."
Confessing to dying newspapermen about writing angry letters sparked discussion in the face of multi-media mosaics at the 50th Winter Park Sidewalk Art Festival.
Bolano's concurrent fleas are "chinculaes, applying to a certain class of traveler, adventurers of the mind, those who can't keep still mentally, or "a person who doesn't pretend to reconcile the irreconcilable."
Spangler's decision-making model prefers individualists who are "concerned with rights and duties implying a duty not to harm or help."
Bolano affirms: "neither believed in a hybrid form of socialism - public happiness - they believed in the possibility of self-realization."
For a situationalist drawing universalist conclusions; a Summer docent on a Georgian plantation is drawn, hopeless, to slave narratives.
Lying at the bottom of the in-box for years is "A One-Day Course by Edward Tufte, Presenting Data and Information," depicting a map by Charles Joseph Minard portraying losses by Napoleon's army in the Russian campaign of 1812 incorporating six variables: size of the army, location on a two-dimensional surface, direction of the army's movement, and temperature on various dates during the retreat."
Mysterious reappearences of such honesty assure the story at least stays neutral.
"The only reason the School Board wants the club banned is because the name, Gay-Straight Alliance, violates the Board's abstinence-only policy."
Confessing to dying newspapermen about writing angry letters sparked discussion in the face of multi-media mosaics at the 50th Winter Park Sidewalk Art Festival.
Bolano's concurrent fleas are "chinculaes, applying to a certain class of traveler, adventurers of the mind, those who can't keep still mentally, or "a person who doesn't pretend to reconcile the irreconcilable."
Spangler's decision-making model prefers individualists who are "concerned with rights and duties implying a duty not to harm or help."
Bolano affirms: "neither believed in a hybrid form of socialism - public happiness - they believed in the possibility of self-realization."
For a situationalist drawing universalist conclusions; a Summer docent on a Georgian plantation is drawn, hopeless, to slave narratives.
Lying at the bottom of the in-box for years is "A One-Day Course by Edward Tufte, Presenting Data and Information," depicting a map by Charles Joseph Minard portraying losses by Napoleon's army in the Russian campaign of 1812 incorporating six variables: size of the army, location on a two-dimensional surface, direction of the army's movement, and temperature on various dates during the retreat."
Mysterious reappearences of such honesty assure the story at least stays neutral.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Inherent
The transformation of twelve ordinary people into marathon runners on NOVA this week implies inherent heroism.
Skiing, which takes advantage of harsh weather, otherwise disadvantageous to so many others, implies inherent selfishness.
A Marine in the local rag states, "for me, the physical excitement isn't the attraction - it's the opportunity to make a difference."
How much can a willingness to commit institutional acts of violence also contain the inherent opportunity to make a difference?
In most Friend Bob-exchanges something is left off the table lest this participant become a persistent bore. Our last dance omits that even if it's not intended, the existence of an Anglican break-away implies homophobia, just as the existence of a continuing church, implies the opposite, even if none, or only one, of its members desires full inclusion for g,l,b,t persons.
Shopsin says, "you don't do the right thing because you're a great person, you do the right thing because you don't have any f'ing choice," though Roberto Bolano warns, "virtue, once recognized in a flash, has no shine and makes its home in a dark cave amid cave dwellers, some dangerous indeed."
Along these lines, Bolano raises, "the stamp of ultraconcrete literature, a nonspeculative literature free of ideas, assertions, denials, doubts, free of any intent to serve as a guide, neither pro nor con, just an eye seeking out the tangible elements, not judging them but simply displaying them coldly, archeology of the facsimile, and, by the same token, of the photocopier."
To write any other than a Book of Lists is to affirm Bolano.
When Amer Ghada (Bold & the Brave 22) asks Toba Khedon what transformed him into this creature - this Purge - he responds, "I took philosophy to its ultimate end. To separate the spirit from the selfish desires of the flesh."
In his review of The Future of Liberalism, Thane Rosenbaum contends, Alan Wolfe contends, a "true liberal is pragmatic, sober, skeptical and emotionally detached," while, "both the political right and far left, in contrast, are romantic at heart rushing into military adventures and domestic crusades."
--underscoring a conversation between the Spotsyltuckian and a Yankee, yesterday, as to why the South scored initial victories but could not sustain in the long run.
Wolfe ascribes the Civil War "as an example of these different temperaments: the liberal North was frugal, business-like, impersonal, rational, while the conservative South was impetuous, chivalric, glory-seeking, evangelical, romantic."
It must never be forgotten the rise of the Nazi's was assured by Stalin's actions to suppress moderate German Social Democrats whom he considered the true enemy.
In 1797, George Washington wrote to Rufus King, "having taken my seat in the shade of my vine and fig tree, I shall endeavor to view things in the calm lights of mild philosophy," remembering at this same time, Washington incorporated a radical emancipation of his slaves into his will.
Do we agree with Toba Khedon that the creation of a beautiful life requires the purge of all disruptive elements?
No, redemption arrives instead, inherent, in small waves: the 92-year old self-described 'old boot' who advised the Golden Rule as she awaited in her wheel chair, helpless, past any physical capability to achieve it beyond her transcendence; a 100-year old local farmer riding his tractor one more Spring planting season; the Colonial Beach Drifters achieving state finals attributing their success to the team manager with cerebral palsy.
An editor scoffed the Spotsyltuckian pieces resemble lists of quotes.
Take these pieces, then, or leave them, since it isn't possible to write or create anything which does not carry inflated inherent ego and implied consequences though lists may come as close as possible.
Skiing, which takes advantage of harsh weather, otherwise disadvantageous to so many others, implies inherent selfishness.
A Marine in the local rag states, "for me, the physical excitement isn't the attraction - it's the opportunity to make a difference."
How much can a willingness to commit institutional acts of violence also contain the inherent opportunity to make a difference?
In most Friend Bob-exchanges something is left off the table lest this participant become a persistent bore. Our last dance omits that even if it's not intended, the existence of an Anglican break-away implies homophobia, just as the existence of a continuing church, implies the opposite, even if none, or only one, of its members desires full inclusion for g,l,b,t persons.
Shopsin says, "you don't do the right thing because you're a great person, you do the right thing because you don't have any f'ing choice," though Roberto Bolano warns, "virtue, once recognized in a flash, has no shine and makes its home in a dark cave amid cave dwellers, some dangerous indeed."
Along these lines, Bolano raises, "the stamp of ultraconcrete literature, a nonspeculative literature free of ideas, assertions, denials, doubts, free of any intent to serve as a guide, neither pro nor con, just an eye seeking out the tangible elements, not judging them but simply displaying them coldly, archeology of the facsimile, and, by the same token, of the photocopier."
To write any other than a Book of Lists is to affirm Bolano.
When Amer Ghada (Bold & the Brave 22) asks Toba Khedon what transformed him into this creature - this Purge - he responds, "I took philosophy to its ultimate end. To separate the spirit from the selfish desires of the flesh."
In his review of The Future of Liberalism, Thane Rosenbaum contends, Alan Wolfe contends, a "true liberal is pragmatic, sober, skeptical and emotionally detached," while, "both the political right and far left, in contrast, are romantic at heart rushing into military adventures and domestic crusades."
--underscoring a conversation between the Spotsyltuckian and a Yankee, yesterday, as to why the South scored initial victories but could not sustain in the long run.
Wolfe ascribes the Civil War "as an example of these different temperaments: the liberal North was frugal, business-like, impersonal, rational, while the conservative South was impetuous, chivalric, glory-seeking, evangelical, romantic."
It must never be forgotten the rise of the Nazi's was assured by Stalin's actions to suppress moderate German Social Democrats whom he considered the true enemy.
In 1797, George Washington wrote to Rufus King, "having taken my seat in the shade of my vine and fig tree, I shall endeavor to view things in the calm lights of mild philosophy," remembering at this same time, Washington incorporated a radical emancipation of his slaves into his will.
Do we agree with Toba Khedon that the creation of a beautiful life requires the purge of all disruptive elements?
No, redemption arrives instead, inherent, in small waves: the 92-year old self-described 'old boot' who advised the Golden Rule as she awaited in her wheel chair, helpless, past any physical capability to achieve it beyond her transcendence; a 100-year old local farmer riding his tractor one more Spring planting season; the Colonial Beach Drifters achieving state finals attributing their success to the team manager with cerebral palsy.
An editor scoffed the Spotsyltuckian pieces resemble lists of quotes.
Take these pieces, then, or leave them, since it isn't possible to write or create anything which does not carry inflated inherent ego and implied consequences though lists may come as close as possible.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
She Does Her Crying in Private: Part II
People keep asking what's up post-retirement.
Uncomfortable confessing to volunteerism, the standard reply is, 'working at a hospital.'
--doubling as a PTSD reaction to serving chronics in the way our Lenten guru D-Day says she was once accused of being "eaten up with pride and self-love."
You own your guests via an insider's knowledge of their tragedies.
Larger ramifications are politcal, tempered, at best, per D-Day, who "can look back on the early religious fervor which underlay my radicalism and finally saved me."
Yet another refuge is cirmudgeonism,
--or career enhancement for David Cameron, who upon his son's death, the NY Times reports, found "those insights lent a powerful humanity," to a politician, "who is Eton and Oxford educated and his wife the daughter of a viscount."
--or redemption for Big Brother racist Jade Goody, per the AP, once "the actual posterchild for British boorishness," now determined, "to spend her dying days in the spotlight; her frankness largely winning the media over."
After it becomes known BL fathered a disabled child, and DH lost one, their lunatic rants, or eccentricities, soften.
Can we attribute, then, Jerry Lewis' Jean Hersholt Humanitarian award speech, to a defensive curmudgeonism, or is he just a plain and simple a-hole?
It's possible to land, undefined, larger than yourself, dispensible.
Joseph Ellis maintains George Washington's "Mt. Vernon correspondence allowed him to retain a zone of personal control amidst an increasingly, discordant political world that seemed to defy control altogether -- the last sliver of his private personality never made the trip."
--never making the trip: this, the second lesson of Lent.
Uncomfortable confessing to volunteerism, the standard reply is, 'working at a hospital.'
--doubling as a PTSD reaction to serving chronics in the way our Lenten guru D-Day says she was once accused of being "eaten up with pride and self-love."
You own your guests via an insider's knowledge of their tragedies.
Larger ramifications are politcal, tempered, at best, per D-Day, who "can look back on the early religious fervor which underlay my radicalism and finally saved me."
Yet another refuge is cirmudgeonism,
--or career enhancement for David Cameron, who upon his son's death, the NY Times reports, found "those insights lent a powerful humanity," to a politician, "who is Eton and Oxford educated and his wife the daughter of a viscount."
--or redemption for Big Brother racist Jade Goody, per the AP, once "the actual posterchild for British boorishness," now determined, "to spend her dying days in the spotlight; her frankness largely winning the media over."
After it becomes known BL fathered a disabled child, and DH lost one, their lunatic rants, or eccentricities, soften.
Can we attribute, then, Jerry Lewis' Jean Hersholt Humanitarian award speech, to a defensive curmudgeonism, or is he just a plain and simple a-hole?
It's possible to land, undefined, larger than yourself, dispensible.
Joseph Ellis maintains George Washington's "Mt. Vernon correspondence allowed him to retain a zone of personal control amidst an increasingly, discordant political world that seemed to defy control altogether -- the last sliver of his private personality never made the trip."
--never making the trip: this, the second lesson of Lent.
Friday, February 27, 2009
She Does Her Crying in Private
In an endless winter, MLB broadcasts non-stop A-Rod.
Brian Wilson sings paeans to Spring.
Since the entire starting five of our local squad are felons, basketball loses any off-season baseball attraction it might have yielded in the void, yet, in Lenten redemption, the Times features a portrait of unselfishness: Shane Battier, who excels in statistical non-records such as blocking the line of sight of a Kobe so his effectiveness diminishes just so much the Rockets win.
Instead of comparing baseball to football, ala Carlin, the Times contrasts the ease of selfishness in basketball, where there isn't an opportunity for everyone to bat.
(Except, perhaps, for a little-known Jamesian consideration, of how many games Manny costs a team by not hustling in the outfield.)
No one statisticalizes who recovers blocked shots rather than who flicks them refundably into the 5th row.
"I know it's been hard for you," says Lana in SG 38, "since Zor-el was killed, and you're focusing all your efforts on pulling your mother out of her slump, but Kara, it's okay to be selfish sometimes."
Is it?
During Lent?
The President reverses predecessor's bans on photographing coffins.
Sec-Def, the hold-over, says he welcomes an opportunity to re-think the issue.
In his review of The Republic of Suffering, Thomas Lacquer reminds it was only in the aftermath of the Civil War that the dead first demand our allegience from beyond the grave, and establish they, and they alone, own the experience.
After fourteen decades, with no end to this winter in sight, the matter continues unresolved, as evidenced by existent pain viewing a dinner at the Bunkers where Archie invites a Gold Star father for Thanksgiving dinner and Mike invites a draft dodger -
- not unlike Andersen's story of the Red Shoes who dance as if they had PTSD after the feet of the vain heroine are amputated.
The local rag reports on five couples living within a mile of each other in the Lake Anna countryside who've been married more than 50 years.
Ernest, cab driver for young women of the segregated Mary Washington campus - the endurer of racist taunts - responds by ensuring his daughters graduate from the same integrated collge.
When asked how he managed, Ernest says, "God did it."
This, the lesson, of Lent.
Brian Wilson sings paeans to Spring.
Since the entire starting five of our local squad are felons, basketball loses any off-season baseball attraction it might have yielded in the void, yet, in Lenten redemption, the Times features a portrait of unselfishness: Shane Battier, who excels in statistical non-records such as blocking the line of sight of a Kobe so his effectiveness diminishes just so much the Rockets win.
Instead of comparing baseball to football, ala Carlin, the Times contrasts the ease of selfishness in basketball, where there isn't an opportunity for everyone to bat.
(Except, perhaps, for a little-known Jamesian consideration, of how many games Manny costs a team by not hustling in the outfield.)
No one statisticalizes who recovers blocked shots rather than who flicks them refundably into the 5th row.
"I know it's been hard for you," says Lana in SG 38, "since Zor-el was killed, and you're focusing all your efforts on pulling your mother out of her slump, but Kara, it's okay to be selfish sometimes."
Is it?
During Lent?
The President reverses predecessor's bans on photographing coffins.
Sec-Def, the hold-over, says he welcomes an opportunity to re-think the issue.
In his review of The Republic of Suffering, Thomas Lacquer reminds it was only in the aftermath of the Civil War that the dead first demand our allegience from beyond the grave, and establish they, and they alone, own the experience.
After fourteen decades, with no end to this winter in sight, the matter continues unresolved, as evidenced by existent pain viewing a dinner at the Bunkers where Archie invites a Gold Star father for Thanksgiving dinner and Mike invites a draft dodger -
- not unlike Andersen's story of the Red Shoes who dance as if they had PTSD after the feet of the vain heroine are amputated.
The local rag reports on five couples living within a mile of each other in the Lake Anna countryside who've been married more than 50 years.
Ernest, cab driver for young women of the segregated Mary Washington campus - the endurer of racist taunts - responds by ensuring his daughters graduate from the same integrated collge.
When asked how he managed, Ernest says, "God did it."
This, the lesson, of Lent.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Everyone Else is Doing It
Whenever you listen to a live album recorded in Japan the crowd sounds hysterial.
Doesn't matter if it's Cheap Trick or Brian Seitzer, they go nuts.
Written by 20-somethings dressed like Lolita in Wonderland, cell-phone novels (Keitai Shosetsu) about girls who learn their lovers are half-brothers, or who sell themselves to pay for their boyfriend's operation but die of AIDS instead, garner 1.8 million hits, and are replicated in manga, film and hardcover.
While technology empowers the freedom to type 10,000 words a day on an hour's bullet train commute, what's written so, tends to reinforce traditional values.
The women who write Keitai Shosetsu nevertheless are considered slightly abnormal (otaku).
Less a commercial venture, slightly abnormal English otaku William Tyndale, utilizing new 16th century techology, fatally, manages to change history
The Spotsyltuckian stalks out of a lecture by tv critic Marvin Kitson after he opens by stating there is nothing on but public television.
Clive James enrages by writing that "the story of a mentality as gripping as a thriller equals the same thrill as what the numberless readers of a book like the DaVinci Code are really after: they have just chosen arid territory in which to seek it."
Sez who.
Listen to Zappa, then, Michael W. Smith.
In the aptly named, Duty of Delight, slightly abnormal otaku Dorothy writes, "the professor has been out on a drunk and is lying trembling in his room while he is here. He has just stolen $5 from me, the dollars we had to send the sharecropper packages of clothes, and he must be tormented in soul as in body, weary of the idea of personal responsibility."
This is helpful.
Our slightly abnormal Pope, the Times reports, is "a theologian more at home in the library than the stadium Mass, more attuned to many doctrinal questions rather than potential political ramifications," like obsessing upon the efficacy of indulgences intended to reduce sentences in Purgatory.
While not helpful, it is so weird, it's definitely otaku.
Slightly abnormal impact is dependent upon reach and investment.
Otaku-Spotsyltuckian could be a Japanese cult favorite.
I wish.
Doesn't matter if it's Cheap Trick or Brian Seitzer, they go nuts.
Written by 20-somethings dressed like Lolita in Wonderland, cell-phone novels (Keitai Shosetsu) about girls who learn their lovers are half-brothers, or who sell themselves to pay for their boyfriend's operation but die of AIDS instead, garner 1.8 million hits, and are replicated in manga, film and hardcover.
While technology empowers the freedom to type 10,000 words a day on an hour's bullet train commute, what's written so, tends to reinforce traditional values.
The women who write Keitai Shosetsu nevertheless are considered slightly abnormal (otaku).
Less a commercial venture, slightly abnormal English otaku William Tyndale, utilizing new 16th century techology, fatally, manages to change history
The Spotsyltuckian stalks out of a lecture by tv critic Marvin Kitson after he opens by stating there is nothing on but public television.
Clive James enrages by writing that "the story of a mentality as gripping as a thriller equals the same thrill as what the numberless readers of a book like the DaVinci Code are really after: they have just chosen arid territory in which to seek it."
Sez who.
Listen to Zappa, then, Michael W. Smith.
In the aptly named, Duty of Delight, slightly abnormal otaku Dorothy writes, "the professor has been out on a drunk and is lying trembling in his room while he is here. He has just stolen $5 from me, the dollars we had to send the sharecropper packages of clothes, and he must be tormented in soul as in body, weary of the idea of personal responsibility."
This is helpful.
Our slightly abnormal Pope, the Times reports, is "a theologian more at home in the library than the stadium Mass, more attuned to many doctrinal questions rather than potential political ramifications," like obsessing upon the efficacy of indulgences intended to reduce sentences in Purgatory.
While not helpful, it is so weird, it's definitely otaku.
Slightly abnormal impact is dependent upon reach and investment.
Otaku-Spotsyltuckian could be a Japanese cult favorite.
I wish.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Hard Science
During the winter of 1777/1778, as back-bites pierced his hide as bullets never could, George Washington wrote, "whenever the public gets dissatisfifed with my services, or a person is found better qualified to assume her expectations, I shall quit the helm and retire to private life with as much content as ever the wearied pilgrim felt upon his safe arrival in the Holy Land."
Leaving, at last, on his own terms, he retired, indeed, to private life, upon the rolling banks of the bucolic Virginia riverside.
--the public role he played, featured, in the end, less idealism than a practicality borne of experience.
Friend Larry and I often lament the absence of a Sports Management degree program at the time we attended University. The game afoot, in those days, political science, yielded only one lesson of use, a lifelong practice of the Hawthorne Effect.
Stefan Zweig, per Clive James, says Montaigne read history not in order to become learned but to see how other men handled events and to set himself beside them.
A recent study at Durham University comparing subject difficulties found some signicantly harder than others -- so much so a student could expect two grades higher in the easiest than the hardest.
The accompanying chart in the Economist conveys Science the hardest. It is well History exceeded the complexity cut (as opposed, for example, to Film Studies, the easiest, thereby degrading, appreciably, the A achieved in Hitchcock, many summers ago).
A desire to know Hard Science remains despite an F in Chemistry, and D's in Biology and Ecology. Accordingly, by page 20, I was more lost in Dawkins' Ancestors Tale than the species listed as extinct, though, efforts continue, lately, with 'Grave Secrets of Dinosaurs, Soft Tissues and Hard Science.'
Dinosaurs is where it starts for boys, at least, those of our generation, who marvelled hearing Cronkite intone how awesome it might have been to face an Allosaur football team.
Upon becoming a soft tissue dinosaur, myself, I'm entitled to (per M. Porter, concluding, in the manner of Professor Eobard Thawne, the devolution of Big Monkey to Little Fish) a singular world of my own creation.
Mr. Rat further dichotomizes this theme, declaring, in The Wind in the Willows, "it's my world, and I don't want any other; what it hasn't got is not worth knowing, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing," simultaneously pointing out, perhaps, conversely, in relation to Toad, "he was going to spend the rest of his life in a houseboat -- it's all the same whatever he takes up; he gets tired of it and starts on something new."
What remains, upon retirement, to carry anew for the cause?
Spielberg, dedicated publicly to Shoah, intends to film Tintin, whose creator Herge, as the Economist demonstrates, "spent the war working for LeSoir, a Belgian newspaper seized by German occupiers and turned into a propaganda organ, usually explained by Herges' naivety as an author of children's comics (a defense also used for Wodehouse)."
Springsteen, pop market purveyor of Pete Seeger - famed labor balladeer - cuts an exclusive deal with the fanatically anti-union Wal-mart.
Is consistency, mandate, over a lifetime?
Our local rag this week contains an obit of a 96-year old woman who attended the same church for more than 80 years.
Does longevity, alone, distill inconsistency?
Joseph Ellis (himself accused of certain inconsistencies) writes Washington loathed "any form of dependency," holding a "deep distrust of any authority beyond his direct control."
Assuming this status is achieved by retirement, to what is the retiree still bound?
Leaving, at last, on his own terms, he retired, indeed, to private life, upon the rolling banks of the bucolic Virginia riverside.
--the public role he played, featured, in the end, less idealism than a practicality borne of experience.
Friend Larry and I often lament the absence of a Sports Management degree program at the time we attended University. The game afoot, in those days, political science, yielded only one lesson of use, a lifelong practice of the Hawthorne Effect.
Stefan Zweig, per Clive James, says Montaigne read history not in order to become learned but to see how other men handled events and to set himself beside them.
A recent study at Durham University comparing subject difficulties found some signicantly harder than others -- so much so a student could expect two grades higher in the easiest than the hardest.
The accompanying chart in the Economist conveys Science the hardest. It is well History exceeded the complexity cut (as opposed, for example, to Film Studies, the easiest, thereby degrading, appreciably, the A achieved in Hitchcock, many summers ago).
A desire to know Hard Science remains despite an F in Chemistry, and D's in Biology and Ecology. Accordingly, by page 20, I was more lost in Dawkins' Ancestors Tale than the species listed as extinct, though, efforts continue, lately, with 'Grave Secrets of Dinosaurs, Soft Tissues and Hard Science.'
Dinosaurs is where it starts for boys, at least, those of our generation, who marvelled hearing Cronkite intone how awesome it might have been to face an Allosaur football team.
Upon becoming a soft tissue dinosaur, myself, I'm entitled to (per M. Porter, concluding, in the manner of Professor Eobard Thawne, the devolution of Big Monkey to Little Fish) a singular world of my own creation.
Mr. Rat further dichotomizes this theme, declaring, in The Wind in the Willows, "it's my world, and I don't want any other; what it hasn't got is not worth knowing, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing," simultaneously pointing out, perhaps, conversely, in relation to Toad, "he was going to spend the rest of his life in a houseboat -- it's all the same whatever he takes up; he gets tired of it and starts on something new."
What remains, upon retirement, to carry anew for the cause?
Spielberg, dedicated publicly to Shoah, intends to film Tintin, whose creator Herge, as the Economist demonstrates, "spent the war working for LeSoir, a Belgian newspaper seized by German occupiers and turned into a propaganda organ, usually explained by Herges' naivety as an author of children's comics (a defense also used for Wodehouse)."
Springsteen, pop market purveyor of Pete Seeger - famed labor balladeer - cuts an exclusive deal with the fanatically anti-union Wal-mart.
Is consistency, mandate, over a lifetime?
Our local rag this week contains an obit of a 96-year old woman who attended the same church for more than 80 years.
Does longevity, alone, distill inconsistency?
Joseph Ellis (himself accused of certain inconsistencies) writes Washington loathed "any form of dependency," holding a "deep distrust of any authority beyond his direct control."
Assuming this status is achieved by retirement, to what is the retiree still bound?
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
The Irresistable Urge to Solve Technical Problems
At the retirement open house, the Mentor said, "the real reason the Spotsyltuckian loves the beloved machine is its dependability."
The builders of the machines no longer have a place at the table.
That's not all bad.
Raised an industrial apprentice, the Dickensian way, S. offers, "once we separate the men from the boys, it's of no concern when workers at minimum wage come and go."
A., for similar reasons, doesn't believe it worthwhile to train anyone.
Racist, sexist, their day is past.
Their lasting legacy, nevertheless, remains efficiency.
Is the latter possible absent the former?
Yes: with access to the machine shop restored for repair - management trusting to pride of ownership - productivity soars.
Though ends do not justify means, in pursuit of ends, we often lose sight.
When a technical glitch surfaces in the design of the replacement for the beloved machine, our team resolves it.
We've already discussed the preeminence of duty whether or not the employer or task is worthy.
When Mr. Hardhead offers donations to our shelter, re-directing funds from the Diocese, from which he was in dispute, and I was not, the temptation to accept, clouds better judgment.
The resolution of the technical glitch described above can not excuse the result, in the name of a greater good, so why do it?
Prior to World War I, German industry triumphed in the manufacture of synthetic dyes and fertilizer. Unforseen consequences surfaced (then, and twenty-five years later) when a national need for the by-product, poison gas, was introduced which appealed not only to their patriotism, but as a challenge to the ingenuity of Jewish engineers dedicated to problem resolution.
Len Wein's Starbreaker (JLA 29) says, "eon's ago, I learned the greatest energies are contained in the bright minds and dark emotions of intelligent beings survive on the karmic energy of human suffering."
More innocuous, perhaps more terrible, is a heedless response to an irresistable urge to solve any current technical problem.
Richard Fortney says in Dry Storeroom No. 1, "a museum is a place where the visitor can come to examine evidence."
Jokes continued to entertain, during the retirement open house, as they had for years, on moving the beloved machines to the Museum of My Front Yard.
Fortney, reflecting upon a Diplodicus exhibit, writes, "not that I regard a constructed replica of an ancient fossil as an old friend, it is just consoling to pass the time of day with something that changed little in a mutable world."
Dependability has more than one meaning.
The builders of the machines no longer have a place at the table.
That's not all bad.
Raised an industrial apprentice, the Dickensian way, S. offers, "once we separate the men from the boys, it's of no concern when workers at minimum wage come and go."
A., for similar reasons, doesn't believe it worthwhile to train anyone.
Racist, sexist, their day is past.
Their lasting legacy, nevertheless, remains efficiency.
Is the latter possible absent the former?
Yes: with access to the machine shop restored for repair - management trusting to pride of ownership - productivity soars.
Though ends do not justify means, in pursuit of ends, we often lose sight.
When a technical glitch surfaces in the design of the replacement for the beloved machine, our team resolves it.
We've already discussed the preeminence of duty whether or not the employer or task is worthy.
When Mr. Hardhead offers donations to our shelter, re-directing funds from the Diocese, from which he was in dispute, and I was not, the temptation to accept, clouds better judgment.
The resolution of the technical glitch described above can not excuse the result, in the name of a greater good, so why do it?
Prior to World War I, German industry triumphed in the manufacture of synthetic dyes and fertilizer. Unforseen consequences surfaced (then, and twenty-five years later) when a national need for the by-product, poison gas, was introduced which appealed not only to their patriotism, but as a challenge to the ingenuity of Jewish engineers dedicated to problem resolution.
Len Wein's Starbreaker (JLA 29) says, "eon's ago, I learned the greatest energies are contained in the bright minds and dark emotions of intelligent beings survive on the karmic energy of human suffering."
More innocuous, perhaps more terrible, is a heedless response to an irresistable urge to solve any current technical problem.
Richard Fortney says in Dry Storeroom No. 1, "a museum is a place where the visitor can come to examine evidence."
Jokes continued to entertain, during the retirement open house, as they had for years, on moving the beloved machines to the Museum of My Front Yard.
Fortney, reflecting upon a Diplodicus exhibit, writes, "not that I regard a constructed replica of an ancient fossil as an old friend, it is just consoling to pass the time of day with something that changed little in a mutable world."
Dependability has more than one meaning.
Friday, January 30, 2009
I Think We Must Try
On Independence Avenue two days after the Inaugruation, a wind-swept nun garbed in fluttering black and white habit steps off a bus to direct anti-choice foot traffic.
A week later, Josef Ratzinger un-excommunicates Bishop Richard Williamson, a Holocaust denier.
When the Faun is kidnapped, in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Susan says, "I don't want to go further and I wish we'd never come. But I think we must try to do something for Mr. Whatever his-name-is."
--afterwards, the 214th Council of the Diocese of Virginia meets to consider:
R4a - Integrity of Committed Relationships (1) a response pastoral; (2) an affirmation of the integrity of committed Christian relationships;
R5 - a Blessing of the Union of Same-Gender Couples;
R6 - an Inclusiveness in Ordained Ministry.
For some, it was as if, per Busiek's Trinity 34, "the tactics of the struggle are simple. Reality is convulsing gouting out chaos rifts as it tries to stablize itself. We can hold out until reality can be prepared - reset to what it should be."
For others, the injustice inherent upon the restoration of stability is no longer acceptable in the name of tactics.
If your Spotsyltuckian would have been sufficiently brave to approach the mike, he might have said:
"As a member of a continuing church, our stability has been rent asundered yet our church life is not centered upon resolution of the property issues. The pain of separation has left deep scars yet we are grown to be the change categorized by the three resolutions even if not consecrated to practice the rites. I have no doubt if the progress inherent in R5 and R6 had been brought to the floor, they would have passed, just as the four amendments to dissolve or weaken R4a, were defeated one by one. Left only by the symbolic upon which to vote, the symbolic becomes the single thread of progress. It's passage looms larger than it's effect, but leaving nothing else, it becomes worthy of passage. Our struggle as a small parish is as nothing compared to our glbt brethren who face injustice, persecution and violence, but our experience is respected and honored by the passage of R4a."
Amidst the parliamentary, the Spirit dwells:
--in a courtesty resolution noting the passing of Harry Raab, a Virginia gentleman, whose gracious presence lifted many an ordinary Stewardship campaign;
--in the sweet melodius air of 'One Bread, One Body,' and 'Oh, let the Son of God enfold you;'
--in the mutual recognition, of the Archbishop of Wales, to the delights of a chilly horse-back ride upon Snowdonia followed by a pint of Mackesons in the warm pub below.
Laura Miller says, "many adults view growing up as a kind of tragedy whose casualties include innocence and the capacity for whole-hearted make-believe."
It would be easy at this stage for the Spotsyltuckian in retirement to retreat behind a warren of stacked books at Standhill House to gaze in wonder upon the tracks in the snow.
--but as hard it is to go a step further, we must try to do something for Mr. Whatever-his-name-is.
A week later, Josef Ratzinger un-excommunicates Bishop Richard Williamson, a Holocaust denier.
When the Faun is kidnapped, in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Susan says, "I don't want to go further and I wish we'd never come. But I think we must try to do something for Mr. Whatever his-name-is."
--afterwards, the 214th Council of the Diocese of Virginia meets to consider:
R4a - Integrity of Committed Relationships (1) a response pastoral; (2) an affirmation of the integrity of committed Christian relationships;
R5 - a Blessing of the Union of Same-Gender Couples;
R6 - an Inclusiveness in Ordained Ministry.
For some, it was as if, per Busiek's Trinity 34, "the tactics of the struggle are simple. Reality is convulsing gouting out chaos rifts as it tries to stablize itself. We can hold out until reality can be prepared - reset to what it should be."
For others, the injustice inherent upon the restoration of stability is no longer acceptable in the name of tactics.
If your Spotsyltuckian would have been sufficiently brave to approach the mike, he might have said:
"As a member of a continuing church, our stability has been rent asundered yet our church life is not centered upon resolution of the property issues. The pain of separation has left deep scars yet we are grown to be the change categorized by the three resolutions even if not consecrated to practice the rites. I have no doubt if the progress inherent in R5 and R6 had been brought to the floor, they would have passed, just as the four amendments to dissolve or weaken R4a, were defeated one by one. Left only by the symbolic upon which to vote, the symbolic becomes the single thread of progress. It's passage looms larger than it's effect, but leaving nothing else, it becomes worthy of passage. Our struggle as a small parish is as nothing compared to our glbt brethren who face injustice, persecution and violence, but our experience is respected and honored by the passage of R4a."
Amidst the parliamentary, the Spirit dwells:
--in a courtesty resolution noting the passing of Harry Raab, a Virginia gentleman, whose gracious presence lifted many an ordinary Stewardship campaign;
--in the sweet melodius air of 'One Bread, One Body,' and 'Oh, let the Son of God enfold you;'
--in the mutual recognition, of the Archbishop of Wales, to the delights of a chilly horse-back ride upon Snowdonia followed by a pint of Mackesons in the warm pub below.
Laura Miller says, "many adults view growing up as a kind of tragedy whose casualties include innocence and the capacity for whole-hearted make-believe."
It would be easy at this stage for the Spotsyltuckian in retirement to retreat behind a warren of stacked books at Standhill House to gaze in wonder upon the tracks in the snow.
--but as hard it is to go a step further, we must try to do something for Mr. Whatever-his-name-is.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Farewell to all Stat
The link to Protoball in a SABR email depicts baseball at Allens Pasture, Richmond, 1884.
A deeper view of the pastoral landscape reveals William (Billy) Nash, b. 1865, d. 1929 (cremated), playing '84-'98; managing April 96 - September 96; as ump in '01, ejecting three.
--a large story buried under small facts.
The 2008 Baseball Research Journal features, Clutch Hitting, on the Jamesian Mapping the Fog controversy; no less than four statisticians-cum-authors.
Whether clutch hitting exists or not is fascinating.
-- a story become small buried under large facts.
Then there is Batting Stance Guy, a man of extensive research, yet, the essence of our national past-time, glorious goof, is not lost in calculation.
Laura Linney says she preps hard exploring every angle, then throws it away, to act. It's still there. To stream research alive is at the heart of creativity, despite every story requiring a structual Hitchcockian McGuffin.
C.J.'s story of woe doesn't gain electrical bill assistance at the food pantry this week since he doesn't possess a cut-off notice.
Monthly meetings of a non-profit Board are monopolized by a budget review. This causes the eviction of a family at Christmas for non-payment of rent. It also precedes the sale of the house after the realization there's no way for a finance-driven non-profit to be a landlord.
For the first two weeks confronting a national disaster, when Government is otherwise baffled, stats tell the story. When the iconic Brainiac 5 (Final Crisis 6) proclaims, "I calculate we have exactly 72.4 seconds before time breaks down and this sentence becomes meaningless," it informs those same two weeks, after which, spin overtook the reality of math.
If you pledge the same and your income declines, is the end result a 10% tithe?
Aussie journalist, Richard Flanagan writes, "in the end, politics is not about focus groups and numbers, it is about the power of stories," to which Clive James responds, "though politics is indeed concerned with more than numbers, it can't do without them."
The story powering the Inaugruation is the performance of Pete Seeger knowing this investiture is the culmination of a life's work validating our generation's vision despite decades of factual investigative journalism to the contrary.
Carl Jung points out whenever we encounter an accident that changes our lives, we encounter God.
Buckner encounters Mookie. Mitch encounters Carter. Schultz encounters the Mick.
Sometimes the best you may achieve is via negativa, therefore, A-Rod proves the existence of clutch hitting.
A deeper view of the pastoral landscape reveals William (Billy) Nash, b. 1865, d. 1929 (cremated), playing '84-'98; managing April 96 - September 96; as ump in '01, ejecting three.
--a large story buried under small facts.
The 2008 Baseball Research Journal features, Clutch Hitting, on the Jamesian Mapping the Fog controversy; no less than four statisticians-cum-authors.
Whether clutch hitting exists or not is fascinating.
-- a story become small buried under large facts.
Then there is Batting Stance Guy, a man of extensive research, yet, the essence of our national past-time, glorious goof, is not lost in calculation.
Laura Linney says she preps hard exploring every angle, then throws it away, to act. It's still there. To stream research alive is at the heart of creativity, despite every story requiring a structual Hitchcockian McGuffin.
C.J.'s story of woe doesn't gain electrical bill assistance at the food pantry this week since he doesn't possess a cut-off notice.
Monthly meetings of a non-profit Board are monopolized by a budget review. This causes the eviction of a family at Christmas for non-payment of rent. It also precedes the sale of the house after the realization there's no way for a finance-driven non-profit to be a landlord.
For the first two weeks confronting a national disaster, when Government is otherwise baffled, stats tell the story. When the iconic Brainiac 5 (Final Crisis 6) proclaims, "I calculate we have exactly 72.4 seconds before time breaks down and this sentence becomes meaningless," it informs those same two weeks, after which, spin overtook the reality of math.
If you pledge the same and your income declines, is the end result a 10% tithe?
Aussie journalist, Richard Flanagan writes, "in the end, politics is not about focus groups and numbers, it is about the power of stories," to which Clive James responds, "though politics is indeed concerned with more than numbers, it can't do without them."
The story powering the Inaugruation is the performance of Pete Seeger knowing this investiture is the culmination of a life's work validating our generation's vision despite decades of factual investigative journalism to the contrary.
Carl Jung points out whenever we encounter an accident that changes our lives, we encounter God.
Buckner encounters Mookie. Mitch encounters Carter. Schultz encounters the Mick.
Sometimes the best you may achieve is via negativa, therefore, A-Rod proves the existence of clutch hitting.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Vendor No. 2
You could not find a better definition of the Speed Force theorem than Joe Kelly's (JLA 82) "infinite realm of velocity that feeds all motion in the universe: lumbering pirouette of planets; ricochet tango of sub-atomic particles; the racing of the human heart for love and fear - from this source springs all of the Flash's power."
In opposition, Philip K. Dick's Kipple Theory states all are naturally subject to entropy, clutter, disorder. For example, stricken by lyme disease, Clarence retires, succumbing to a critical dismishment of energy.
Atrocitus taunts the bound Sinestro (GL 36) "you believe fear to be the most powerful force in the universe? Fear is inaction. Fear is hiding away. Rage is action."
To which Sinestro sneers, "rage is uncontrollable."
We've spoken previously of balance: Russell Kirk adds, "for an order to live, both permanence and progress are necesary."
How?
Andrew O'Hagen describes Arthur Miller as "a sort-of-Marxist committed primarily to self-discovery and the ousting of Fascism."
Beyond politics, per se, we note, prior to an action, GL swears an Oath.
Sister Eileen prays the hours.
In contrast to Kelly, Dick, and Atrocitus, according to the Junction Model, discovered by Advanced Sedentary Physics (ASP) pioneer, Joseph P. Carson, elements naturally reside at rest, neither speeding forth, nor falling victim to entropy, thereby enabling the reinterpretatation of ancient journeys in managable dimensions, as follows:
James Madison, on his way to Princeton, in 1769, riding 30 to 40 miles a day, from Orange, to Fredericksburg, crossing the Rappahannock, and Aquia Creek, through Quantico, Dumfries, Colchester, over the Occoquan, by Stafford Court House, through Dumfries, past Pohick, to Georgetown and beyond.
The same irreducible principle applies in regards to tracing the route of Jackson-in-the-Valley utilizing contemporary Virginia road maps.
Passing the corner of Independence & 12th daily after work, a shortcut crosses a flower vendor luring commuters in need of a bouquet.
After Vendor No. 1, with whom I'd become familiar was arrested, I'd grown fond of Vendor No. 2.
When I told him, Tuesday, I would not be passing this way again, he began to tell long tales of retirement and how selling flowers passes the time.
I wanted to learn more but had to catch my train.
In opposition, Philip K. Dick's Kipple Theory states all are naturally subject to entropy, clutter, disorder. For example, stricken by lyme disease, Clarence retires, succumbing to a critical dismishment of energy.
Atrocitus taunts the bound Sinestro (GL 36) "you believe fear to be the most powerful force in the universe? Fear is inaction. Fear is hiding away. Rage is action."
To which Sinestro sneers, "rage is uncontrollable."
We've spoken previously of balance: Russell Kirk adds, "for an order to live, both permanence and progress are necesary."
How?
Andrew O'Hagen describes Arthur Miller as "a sort-of-Marxist committed primarily to self-discovery and the ousting of Fascism."
Beyond politics, per se, we note, prior to an action, GL swears an Oath.
Sister Eileen prays the hours.
In contrast to Kelly, Dick, and Atrocitus, according to the Junction Model, discovered by Advanced Sedentary Physics (ASP) pioneer, Joseph P. Carson, elements naturally reside at rest, neither speeding forth, nor falling victim to entropy, thereby enabling the reinterpretatation of ancient journeys in managable dimensions, as follows:
James Madison, on his way to Princeton, in 1769, riding 30 to 40 miles a day, from Orange, to Fredericksburg, crossing the Rappahannock, and Aquia Creek, through Quantico, Dumfries, Colchester, over the Occoquan, by Stafford Court House, through Dumfries, past Pohick, to Georgetown and beyond.
The same irreducible principle applies in regards to tracing the route of Jackson-in-the-Valley utilizing contemporary Virginia road maps.
Passing the corner of Independence & 12th daily after work, a shortcut crosses a flower vendor luring commuters in need of a bouquet.
After Vendor No. 1, with whom I'd become familiar was arrested, I'd grown fond of Vendor No. 2.
When I told him, Tuesday, I would not be passing this way again, he began to tell long tales of retirement and how selling flowers passes the time.
I wanted to learn more but had to catch my train.
Friday, January 9, 2009
New Scrubs
In response to why the first two new episodes were 'serious,' creator Bill Lawrence replies, "I thought we got a little silly. In order for the finale to actually mean anything, the show has to be borderline real for people to give a s--t."
--one heckuva slipperly borderline, alright.
Bee Wilson tells, in the original 1880 story by Collodi, how when Cricket advises Pinocchio he'll never come to any good unless he buckles down and gets a job, the puppet grabs a wooden mallet and flings it so hard that "with his last breath, Cricket cried cree-cree-cree and then died on the spot, stuck to the wall."
Yipes.
Wouldn't you rather go, as Wilson continues, to where "becoming a real boy means being restored to the safe world of children in Gepetto's house rather than taking up responsibility and growing up as Pinocchio does at the end of Collodi's book?"
Or how about straddling both?
When we donned our Crackerjacks, standing in ranks for inspection, it was then that individualities surfaced rather than personalities categorized by fashion.
Dickens straddles as the young Scrooge exclaims while breaking up with Alice, "this is the even-handed dealing of the world. There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth."
Episcopalians straddle the Divine through liturgy enervated by the Holy Spirit.
Kurt Busiek's Morgaine strides in the opposite direction finally elaborating the overarching Trinity strategy, in 31, as "the Chaos Rifts are a manifestation of the world falling apart, because there is no real order, no real structure. It wants something - anything - to establish a hierarchy of rules, of command, of natural order. If we do that - through our dark arcana, our Pantheon, establishing our domain over reality - then we rule all. It's that simple."
--and what constituted in reality, the 'German idea of freedom,' - Freiheiten, per Jurgen Kocka, meaning the "freedom of corporate entities, self-administered towns, self-regulating guilds, aristocratic estates, and rulers of small territories, which is not antithetical to authorities but was compatible with subordination to them and with strong statist traditions."
---as if America evolved as a bureaucratic confederation of states under an Emperor lacking a mitigating national mythos of classic individualist republicanism.
John Ralston Saul concedes, in Voltaire's Bastards, "Marxism became the dreamlike answer to a real need in Western society but any one of a handful of other dreams might have done just as well. Walt Disney's, for example, riding in the front lines of mythology, converted America to a vision of itself in which the citizen is a viewer, the beliefs are cinematic assertions, and the leaders are character actors."
Exactly.
Magic Kingdom: Hall of Presidents.
--the slippery benign borderline which JD and I are driving over forwards and backwards all the time.
--one heckuva slipperly borderline, alright.
Bee Wilson tells, in the original 1880 story by Collodi, how when Cricket advises Pinocchio he'll never come to any good unless he buckles down and gets a job, the puppet grabs a wooden mallet and flings it so hard that "with his last breath, Cricket cried cree-cree-cree and then died on the spot, stuck to the wall."
Yipes.
Wouldn't you rather go, as Wilson continues, to where "becoming a real boy means being restored to the safe world of children in Gepetto's house rather than taking up responsibility and growing up as Pinocchio does at the end of Collodi's book?"
Or how about straddling both?
When we donned our Crackerjacks, standing in ranks for inspection, it was then that individualities surfaced rather than personalities categorized by fashion.
Dickens straddles as the young Scrooge exclaims while breaking up with Alice, "this is the even-handed dealing of the world. There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth."
Episcopalians straddle the Divine through liturgy enervated by the Holy Spirit.
Kurt Busiek's Morgaine strides in the opposite direction finally elaborating the overarching Trinity strategy, in 31, as "the Chaos Rifts are a manifestation of the world falling apart, because there is no real order, no real structure. It wants something - anything - to establish a hierarchy of rules, of command, of natural order. If we do that - through our dark arcana, our Pantheon, establishing our domain over reality - then we rule all. It's that simple."
--and what constituted in reality, the 'German idea of freedom,' - Freiheiten, per Jurgen Kocka, meaning the "freedom of corporate entities, self-administered towns, self-regulating guilds, aristocratic estates, and rulers of small territories, which is not antithetical to authorities but was compatible with subordination to them and with strong statist traditions."
---as if America evolved as a bureaucratic confederation of states under an Emperor lacking a mitigating national mythos of classic individualist republicanism.
John Ralston Saul concedes, in Voltaire's Bastards, "Marxism became the dreamlike answer to a real need in Western society but any one of a handful of other dreams might have done just as well. Walt Disney's, for example, riding in the front lines of mythology, converted America to a vision of itself in which the citizen is a viewer, the beliefs are cinematic assertions, and the leaders are character actors."
Exactly.
Magic Kingdom: Hall of Presidents.
--the slippery benign borderline which JD and I are driving over forwards and backwards all the time.
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