If my mind's a weapon, my heart's the extra clip

Hallmark Jehovah: A Musical For All Ages

2007-06-17T01:38:00.000-05:00

or, the Book of Job, part deux.

Pink Floyd is one of my favorite bands. For those of you who don't know much about them, originally, Pink Floyd was a psychedelic/experimental rock band. Most of their early material was written by their lead singer, Syd Barrett. Syd Barrett was, to use a technical term, bat-sh*t crazy. Eventually he stopped playing with the band, mostly because they stopped inviting him to concerts. He would just stop playing in the middle of the concert, or he would play the same chord for the whole concert, or he would detune his guitar. Some people blamed his insanity on his almost constant use of LSD. Some people blamed his almost constant use of LSD on his insanity. Either way, they stopped taking him to concerts. Eventually, the bass player, named Roger Waters, took over a lot of the writing aspects of the band's material, especially the lyrics. He was the creative force behind most of Pink Floyd's recognizable material, such as The Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and The Wall. In 1985, Roger Waters left Pink Floyd and started doing some solo work. His most critically acclaimed solo work came in 1992 with his album Amused to Death.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about my frustration with the book of Job. I got some feedback about what I wrote. Some was good, some was random, and some talked about God's sovereignty. I guess that was the whole point of what I wrote. If the book of Job is all about God's ultimate control, that's depressing. Job was God's number one guy, and he really gets the shaft. Even when he gets rich again and he has more kids, that doesn't take away his previous loss. It's not like, "I lost a penny, but then I found one on the sidewalk, so it's all good." Losing people sucks. And nothing makes that go away. Not even connecting with other people, really.

Right after I wrote all of this, a friend of mine bought me a copy of Eugene Peterson's The Message. I really love reading Job in this paraphrase, and I found the introduction to the book very interesting. Peterson points out the fact that most of the book is Job talking with his friends. His friends say a lot of stuff about God that we wouldn't necessarily disagree with, but Job argues with them. Seriously, read Job 5 without the context. It is a beautiful poem about God. In the next chapter, Job says he wants to die. Flip to chapter 42. God says to Eliphaz, "you have not spoken of me rightly, as Job did." That doesn't make sense.

I really love Amused to Death. I have thought about writing an in depth review of the album. I think I would call it "Nihilism: the Musical". Waters deconstructs our modern concepts of war, religion, government, and economy, all in reference to how the media has desensitized us to the reality of these things. The album includes a 3 part song called "What God Wants". Here are some lyrics:

"God wants peace. God wants war.
God wants famine. God wants chain stores.
What God wants, God gets, God help us all."

What makes something real? Is an ice cream cone real because I can describe how it tastes? Is a baby real because I know the biological processes of conception? Is a lamp real because I know that it's purpose is to provide light?

Why would God back the suicidal guy and reprimand the guy who said all of the right stuff?

I hate Hallmark. They are a corporation. They overuse pastel colors. They use kitschy poems extensively. Three strikes. Don't get me wrong--I think cards can be meaningful and special. And, if I am going to buy a card, I generally prefer Hallmark cards. But I think that Hallmark represents something larger. To me, Hallmark represents society's trend to commercialize everything that should be sacred. Birth, death, birthdays, anniversaries, special occasions--all commemorated with cute phrases and partial Bible verses. It disgusts me.

I have this theory about discrimination. It all started while I went to Maranatha. In my sophomore year, I took Advanced Writing with Midcalf. I was writing an essay about working landscaping with this stoner, when I realized that I had all the same issues as this other guy-- just without constant marijuana use. I realized that this stereotype of "stoner" was pretty useless, because I wasn't any better than he was. Sure, I was probably smarter, in an academic sense, but he understood a lot of things that I didn't. My theory is that discrimination only happens because you haven't interacted with that "type" of person. So you build up this mythical idea of what that "type" of person is like. Whether it is about race, or sexual orientation, or religion, it is easy to hate when you have never talked with them, or lived with them, or worked with them, or built a relationship with them. I would love to walk up to some gay marriage protester and ask them how many gay people they are friends with. How many they have gone out to eat with. How many they have invited over to their house. Discrimination only works in your mind. Discrimination doesn't make sense in reality.

So what am I trying to say? What do Roger Waters, Hallmark, homophobia, and the book of Job have to do with each other?

Reality.

Reality is not something you describe. It is not something you understand. It is not something you control. It is something you live. Reality is what is actually happening. All the time.

God is with Job because Job is living in reality, not in trite sayings. He is walking through the fire, not making cliche statements about fire as a metaphor for God's holiness. God tells Eliphaz to get Job to pray for him because Eliphaz has no connection with God. He mentally understands all this stuff about God, but it is totally useless. It does him no good.

So Eliphaz starts a church. And he says all of the right things from the pulpit. His worship team is very musically sound, and they are all dressed nice. His church building in the suburbs looks like the lobby of some expensive hotel, with couches, and plants, and a table with coffee from the trendy local barista. His outreach programs are centered around some catchy play on words from a well known Bible verse. He is still saying all of the right things.

Then this guy named Roger walks in. His dad was a political activist, but volunteered to join the Army when war broke out. HIs dad died when he was only 5 months old. He grew up, experimented a little with drugs with his friends, and now his best friend is addicted to psychedelic drugs. Everything about him was searching for some bigger reality. And when he walks in, everyone looks at him funny because he doesn't fit their mold. And he hears a sermon that is saying all of the right things, but somehow feels shallow and cheesy and Hallmark. There is no reality. So he writes a song.

"And the Germans killed the Jews, and the Jews killed the Arabs,
And the Arabs killed the hostages, and that is the news,
Is it any wonder that the monkey's confused?"

The deification of a chemical, a myth, and a chubby 7 year old with a magnifying glass.

2007-05-01T21:41:00.000-05:00

Or, the Book of Job.

A couple weeks ago, I was walking to my car after class, listening to Damien Rice's "Amie", when I looked up from my red shoes, and everything was perfect. The sidewalk I was walking on stretched out perfectly towards its vanishing point, the little trees were budding, and Damien was begging her to read the stories of old. There was just enough wind to brush my hair across my forehead and to make me realize that even the kitschiest descriptions with sunshine and vanishing points and narrative told in dependent clauses could only disgrace this moment. I turned the corner towards my car only to interrupt some guy comforting a sobbing girl standing next to him. The water in his eyes and on her cheeks tasted like redemption.

I've talked about my epiphanies before. Once, it was a perect morning, one time was about a little town in the middle of nowhere, and one was all about a book. They are these moments where I break through the mundane and experience the profound. Like diving through the riptide of living into the still waters of life. And then, just as suddenly, I float back up into the current. And I've started having them more often.

Like last night. I was reading Fitzgerald and listening to Elliot Smith instead of sleeping. And then I slowly slipped away from the frustrations and struggle and weight of this past week to find myself in Amory's side of Paradise.

Or the first time I brought the bike out this spring. The weather was nice for a Wisconsin April, but certainly not warm enough to keep my fingers from going completely numb at 55 mph. But it was beautiful. It was more than just an adrenaline rush. Reacquainting myself with the century mark was like being at home and my frozen fingers felt like peace.

But my life isn't just a collection of random moments that I find poetically beautiful. Mostly my life is like a craps table in the movies. Short periods of success followed by the inevitable run of impossibly bad luck. Last Tuesday, as I tried to gut out a random bout of psuedo-flu, it started pouring rain just as I started home from class on my motorcycle, a piece of glass ripped a hole in my back tire, and I found out that the mechanic had found a crack in the head while trying to replace the head gasket in my remaining car. (My other car died a couple weeks ago in a blaze of comic tragedy.) For those of you keeping score at home, none of my 3 vehicles are driveable, I'm trying not to puke, I'm behind on homework, and--oh yeah, I forgot-- our refrigerator died.

Ah, depression. It isn't necessarily that I'm depressed all the time. It's just that being beaten down and pessimistic is what feels normal for me. My comfort zone is that streak of crappy luck. I just settle back and drink it up. I can relax because I know the rules to this game. I just limit my emotions to this narrow range and let that range sink to right above "dangerous". Whatever that means. It works great. That way the bad stuff fits in the "normal" range, and the good stuff is shockingly good, and I don't actually have to deal with it. It is awesome, a blur of seratonin and then it is gone.

There is that one verse that says "All things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." The way I always thought, there was this big file cabinet in God's office. And once we got to heaven, we will be able to page through our file, and see how everything fit together.

About 2 o'clock Tuesday night/ Wednesday morning, towards the end of my shift, while I was standing on a package marked fragile, Jess called me. She told me Pastor Tipmore was dead.

Now I wonder what that verse means. I wonder if it has more to do with Psalm 1. Psalm 1 is this passage that describes a life that is "blessed". And the way I thought of it as a kid was, "if you do all this stuff and avoid these people and don't go to these places, you'll get a cookie." But if you really look at the passage, it's actually saying that living this sort of life is the blessing itself. So maybe that verse in Romans 8 isn't saying that there is some heavenly flow chart of all the crappy stuff that happens to you. Maybe it's saying that this life that is connected with God takes the problems of this life and deals with them, and even turns them into positive experiences. Or, maybe--if you can only think of Romans 8:28 in terms of cliche-- whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I don't know what to think about the book of Job. It almost makes God look like some 7 year old squatting on the sidewalk, frying ants with a magnifying glass. There's this guy with apparently really bad luck. Then a bunch of this guy's friends turn into douche bags. He yells at them, God yells at him, and then there is this ridiculously cheesy, feel-good ending. This should be a really meaningful part of the Bible for me. But right now, I just don't get it. Don't try to explain it to me. I know what it is supposed to mean. I'm just not there yet.

Some people react to circumstances in exactly the opposite way as I do. Some people go numb and smile. They can't deal with anything outside of their little zone of comfortable happiness. They have these bursts of sorrow and brutal emotion, and then they float back to smiling and not dealing with it.

I think those people are doing essentially the same thing as me. They find an emotional comfort zone and try to stay there. Sure there are moments that they allow themselves to reach beyond, but it is always in relation to their comfort zone.

I don't want to live in a comfort zone. I want to live in epiphany and pain and anything in between. Just not comfort.

Manifesto

2007-04-05T17:32:00.000-05:00

I want to love who I am.
I want to love who God is.
I want to always be finding, but never have found either one.
I want to live without permission.
I want to live without validation.
I want to exist without pretense.
I want to live a life that is free of cliches, but will only be describeable by cliche.
I want to tear apart the little boxes that I put myself, my relationships, and my God in.
I want to tear apart the little boxes that you put me, my relationships, and my God in.
I want to experience everything and everywhere I am.
I want to live now.
I want to live outside of an agenda.
I want to go past the shallow and tap into reality.
I want to break out of being who I am supposed to be.
I want to break out of being who I think I am supposed to be.
I want to be someone I don't resent.
I want to embrace my failure the way I embrace my success.
I want to base my life on something different, broader, and beyond you, so that just maybe someday I will be worthy of you.
I want to be more than you can love, accept, and control because I can't love, accept, control all of who you are.
I want to embrace your success the way I embrace your failure.
I don't want to explain this post. If you get it, great. Have a cookie. If you don't, I'm sorry.

Hermeneutics and sex

2007-03-17T00:35:00.000-05:00

Muhammad Yunus won the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize for his work in economics, of all things. His concept, micro-finance, is based on the idea that poverty is a cycle. And once you are in this cycle, it is nearly impossible to get out of it. He asked the question, how much would it cost to offer individuals from some of the world's poorest economies just enough capital for them to break the cycle of poverty? He believed that credit is not something that should be extended only to the rich. So he founded a bank in Bangladesh, and loaned extremely small amounts of money to more than 2 million poverty stricken people from Bangladesh. Not only have these loans changed the face of Bangladesh, but repayment rates are almost 100 percent.

I heard about this concept from a church in Grand Rapids, MI. I like this church's outlook on ministry, and I really like their pastor's preaching. I have their sermons podcasted weekly, and I try to check their website about once a week. This church is involved in organizing a micro-finance program for the nation of Burundi. They are estimating that most of the loans will be around $40, and that it will be enough capital for these people to completely change their way of life.

Think about that. Forty dollars would be enough capital for someone to start their own business, build a house, provide food and fresh water, and send their children to school, provide school supplies, and repay their loan. I can't remember the last time I paid less than $40 for a pair of pants. Every pair of pants that I own equals economic solvency for an entire family.

I recently read a book written by the pastor of that church in Grand Rapids. It was called Sex God. The idea behind the book is that there is something bigger going on with sex. That it isn't just a physical expression of an emotion. Maybe it is a symbol of something bigger. Of a bigger connection or connectivity intended for man. Maybe sex is a spiritual act, intended to symbolize the way humans connect with the divine. And maybe sex is made up of emotional and physical parts. Without the physical, the emotional only goes so far. And without the emotional, the physical is empty.

Christians are a weird bunch of people. There are all of these people that are human rights activists and social aid workers and environmentalists, and they claim to be Christians, and then there are these other Christians that are completely unconcerned with all that. Those people talk about God's gift as a personal, internal thing, and read the Bible in terms of personal deliverance. Both of these people seem to be able to quote tons of verses to support what they think, and both of these people think that the other group is misinterpreting scripture.

And then I started thinking, maybe Christianity is something bigger. Something made of up of more than just an internal repentance. Or maybe I should say that if it is only an internal repentance, it only goes so far. And if it is just goodwill and activism, all it's empty. Maybe, if you want to grasp the whole picture, you have to realize that both ideas work together.

My friend and I have been talking about participating in this church's micro finance program, and he decided to tell some of the people that lived in his dorm about it. The response was unbelievable. The first question was, "Did you hear about this in an email? From a Nigerian Prince?" The rest of the responses ranged from "Hmm, that's nice, but..." to "Forty dollars is a lot of money. I don't know if I could really give forty dollars. I mean, I really wouldn't have very much money for the rest of the semester..."

I said that the response was unbelievable. The problem is that it's not.

Now the easy connection to make is that these people are only concerned with the internal work of God in their heart, and therefore, just missing out on some of the fullness of. But I don't think that totally covers it. I think it's something different.

I think it's masturbation.

I think that attitudes like that show self-absorption and narcissism. Attitudes like that have nothing to do with God. And I think that those attitudes are everywhere.

Think about it. Be honest with yourself. How much of Christianity is about glorifying God, whether it is through the rebirth in our own lives or redeeming this world for the kingdom of God? How much of what you deal with is about self-gratification? Is a pastor that talks about a different demonination or church in a derogatory way building or strengthening his relationship with God, or his congregation's relationships? Or is he trying to make himself feel better because he is "right"? What if we all got together and had a conference about why we were "right" and how we can prove our "right-ness" to everyone else around us? How much of that would be useless self-gratification? What have you been thinking while you have been reading this? Have you been looking for reasons that I am wrong? Or have you been trying to understand what I'm saying? What about what I've been saying? Is it just a twisted form of self-gratification for me?

I know you will want to do something after reading this. I want you to go ahead. React. Respond. Rebutt. Say what ever you need to say. Tell me I'm a genius. Tell me I'm a heretic. Ask me how to be involved in Burundi. Explain how your hermeneutic interprets 2100 Bible verses dealing with the poor. Explain to me why internal redemption isn't necessary. I want to hear what you think. But please, be honest and think. Because I have already heard the rest of it.

when the cars align...

2007-02-13T12:38:00.000-06:00

I have these epiphanies every so often. They are these moments where everything lines up. And I’m not always sure why. This morning lined up. And I have no clue how or why.

I woke up and watched sportscenter and looked over my Spanish homework.

I ate dry cheerios and orange juice.

I sang Fallout Boy’s new song “It’s not a scene, it’s an arms race” with slightly modified lyrics while I showered. (“it’s not a song, it’s a *** **** sell out”)

I listened to Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois while I drove to school. The weather was kind of weird, through. It was really overcast, but still bright because of yesterday’s snow.

And that was it. Nothing special. But nothing will ever be as special.

el fin de semana

2007-02-06T14:23:00.000-06:00

It's been a good weekend.

Saturday night was Brier's recital. Amazing. I don't really know how to describe it. Just absurdly good.

Sunday night was the Super Bowl. That was beautiful. Rex Grossman for Super Bowl MVP!!

I quit my job as a mindless drone of the coporate overlords. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Here are some lyrics from the Cold War Kids. Enjoy.

Look up from the hymnal,
Look 'round at the faces
Of families closing their eyes
We're taking Communion
And passing the offering
Hat around at the same time

I reached for the hat and take all the cash
And slide it into my ragged coat sleeve
And leave in its place a note to explain
All of the reasons that Spirit has led me to leave

If there was a worthy cause for to give to,
May I be so bold as to say?
The givers not knowing where their money's going
Is as sinful as throwing away.

I love first novels and classic rock

2007-01-25T14:00:00.000-06:00

I love first novels and classic rock.

I started classes and a new job last week. Community college pre-reqs and hotel graveyard shift rent-a-copping.

I read Generation X, Douglas Coupland’s first novel, the other night.

I started it about 11:30. It was one of those consuming experiences. A book that wipes away other sensory stimulation. An immersion.

I finished the book 5 minutes after the paper guy dropped his responsibility on the front sidewalk. Bright colors instead of real journalism.

It was one of those moments where time freezes and everything is right. I closed the book, and Freebird came on the ancient radio. I wasn’t really even listening, I just left it on to cover the creepy silence of computers and lightbulbs. But the 7 minutes of broken arpeggios cemented the book into my soul.

All novels are a sometimes unintentional disclosure of what an author thinks, feels, or believes. I realize that I should listen to more Steve Miller Band. I kind of like them. But first novels are a confession of who an author is. I love that.

Writing is one of the few things I truly love doing. I’m too jaded for much else. But I’m afraid of writing a novel. I’m afraid of the possibility that a perfect stranger would read me and know me better than one of my friends. My left shoe starts squeaking as I pace to Hell’s Bells. I’m afraid that all the stuff that goes into becoming friends—the late night phone calls, eating tootsie rolls, watching crappy movies, sitting on the hoods of cars staring at streetlights, smoking cigars after chick fliks—I’m afraid that all of that would somehow be wasted. That by writing I can bare my soul to perfect strangers in a way that I can’t seem to with my friends. The ironic thing is that I am doing so right now. That scares the crap out of me.

I can be an anti-social prick. In fact, I worked really hard to become one. I think it started as a defense mechanism. But I don’t know when that was. And I don’t want to be a prick anymore. It’s just so hard undoing all of the time and effort that I spent burning bridges.

With all the poise of a cannonball

2007-01-14T22:32:00.000-06:00

Over the past few weeks, I haven't been able to stop listening to the Decemberists' new album, Crane Wife. And it doesn't feel like I'm going to get over it soon. I've even passed up Beatles to listen to this CD. It's that good.

In their song "When the war came," they make the statement, "A terrible autonomy has grafted onto you and me."

Jess and I are looking for a church. And it's not really going too great so far. It's this terrible autonomy that has grafted onto me.

I don't know if I'm overthinking this or what. I am wondering if something is wrong with me.

I want a church that I can relate to, but just being able to relate to a group of people doesn't mean it's the right church. Some of the people I relate best to are stoners and alcoholics. I want a church that believes the same things that I do, but I don't feel like I should just be shopping for a certain combination of phrases in a church doctrinal statement. I want a pastor that I can talk to and relate with, but I don't want to interview potential spiritual leaders. I want a church that I can be involved with, but I don't want to compare resumes against personnel shortages.
But I think that the blessing of church is intimately connected with all of these things.

And besides all of that, everytime we go to a church, I feel guilty because I'm being so analytical and judgemental. But there are all these things that make me want to start screaming and throwing hymnals.

Mostly I feel like churches don't get it anymore--that they are somehow disconnected from a) the real world and b) what they are really supposed to be doing. It seems like church is some weird country club that only lets in some certain type of people. And sometimes that type of person varies from place to place, and sometimes the "type" is a warm, welcoming, yuppie/hippie mix with a well-groomed beard resting between a dark polo shirt and a balding head.

I really think there is something wrong with the way we operate. We market our churches, and attack each other about every little difference in the way we think. But I think that what we believe is important. And there has to be some way to let people know who we are, right?

I get frustrated because some of the churches are so consumer-friendly. The bulletin is three pages of activities for fathers and daughters, or young married couples, or empty-nesters, or balding men, or married teenagers with dachshunds. I'm sure that you can have lots of fun, but I don't attend church for the father/daughter roller disco classes.

And then there are these other churches that don't give a crap about building a community within the church or becoming a productive part of their local community. And the only time they mention the rest of society is when they are telling you how to vote.

Because of my work schedule, I haven't been able to attend church regularly since the beginning of last summer. And I hate to admit it, but not going to church was such a relief. And now I have to face this, and it is driving me nuts. And the thing is, I think the reason I am so frustrated is that I'm not involved in a church. It's like not being a part of a community is making me forget how to assimilate into a community. I don't know.

I just wish I could find a church I don't hate.

Peeing on Fire Hydrants

2007-01-10T01:06:00.000-06:00

So, about a week before Christmas, I was listening to the radio while I drove. I was flipping through the stations trying to find some decent Christmas music, and I stopped on the Christian radio station. Now all of these actions--feeling festive, listening to the radio, flipping stations, stopping on the Christian station-- were were unusual for me and probably could be characterized as mistakes. I should have known better. But as the song ended, the DJ comes on the air and drones on and on about how Christmas means so much more to a Christian that anybody else.

That bothered me. Really bothered me.

Now I love Christmas. And I do think that the holiday season is a good time as Christians to discuss Christ's advent, even though even a cursory study of history will show you that the December date comes from an assimilation of pagan cultures, and not any actual possibility of Christ being born at that time of year. But for me, Christmas is special not because of some flimsy religious significance--Christmas is significant because it represents memories, and time with loved ones. Gifts are an opportunity to thank someone for their ongoing emotional involvement in your life with a physical symbol. The holiday season is a moment of our lives that society believes in hope and peace and unselfishness. That is what is beautiful about Christmas.

But why would anyone try to deny that to anyone who isn't a "Christian"?

Besides, Christmas is so much more than just a beautiful season of hope and symbolic gratitude. Seriously, just walk outside your front door once between Thanksgiving and New Years. The holidays have devolved so severely that all of those things I mentioned in the paragraph above are almost lost in a grotesque carnival of materialism.

Why do we want to claim ownership?

Next week, I will celebrate the 13 month anniversary of my wedding. Marriage is awesome. I love my wife, and our life together has been an amazing period of growth in every area of my life. There is a happiness that is without words, and a belonging that should be in books of poetry. I believe marriage is all this giant metaphor for the person of God, from the ceremony to the rings to sex and even childbearing--I think marriage takes this depth of reality and brings it right in front of our face.

In this past election, the Wisconsin ballot contained a proposed amendment to the Wisconsin State Constitution. The proposed amendment banned marriage, or any legally similar status, for homosexuals. Keep in mind, gay marriage is not, nor has it ever been, legal in Wisconsin.

Why would we aggressively deny someone else an opportunity?

Why do we think it is a good thing to attack a group of people we are culturally uncomfortable with in the name of God? Don't you think there might be something else we could be doing with our time?

Now don't misunderstand me. I don't think that gay marriage is morally good or ok or societally good or that it should be accepted. But I also don't think that very many heterosexual marriages are morally good or acceptable. I don't think that any of us would have to look very hard to find an example of a married couple that doesn't reflect God. How many Christians do you know that have an empty, dead marriage, but are still together because divorce is "wrong"?

Would any of society's problems be solved if we outlawed divorce?

It seems to me that everywhere you look is a metaphor of God. Marriage, Christmas, relationships, nature, government--there is an omni-present shadow of our Creator. And it seems to me that our Christian culture is trying to pee on every single one of them. It's like we are this puppy taking its first walk around the block. And we are running back and forth to every bush, tree, fire hydrant, and car tire, trying frantically to mark our territory, all while barking at every other dog, cat, squirrel or lawn gnome we see.

And maybe God is the one on the other end of the leash. Gently tugging us, trying to get us to just walk down the street. Because then maybe we would be able to finish our walk.

Missed direction

2006-11-08T21:32:00.000-06:00

I had an epiphany earlier this fall. At least I think it was an epiphany. Maybe the rest of the world just started being morons all of the sudden. But I think that they've been morons for a while now, so I'm betting on the epiphany.

It started with the rash of school violence earlier this fall. School violence was never that important to me before. But now, with my wife teaching at Lake Mills High School, it's a lot more significant to me. So I spent some time thinking about it. And I realized that school violence can be stopped. But none of the "causes" really caused anything, and all of the "solutions" being talked about on the news programs would just make the problem worse.

The reason some kid wants to shoot up his school is that he feels disenfranchised. Not because he played some video game, or listened to some singer, or read some book. He feels that he has no voice and no place in his social structrue. But what solutions are being talked about? Metal detectors, extra security, teachers with guns? All of these ideas deal only with the most violent expression of the problem. We are trying to medicate the symptoms while ignoring the illness.

Now, I know that treating the symptoms is sometimes the only option. There is no way to ensure that every child feels validated. But I have talked to people intimately involved with the school environment (teachers, coaches, parents) who are seemingly oblivious to the problem and recognize only the symptoms.

And then one night, I was watching TV, and Dateline's "To Catch a Predator" was on. And during almost every commercial break, the local news station advertised a segment during their evening news about "protecting your children." Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for protecting and monitoring your children online, but at some point, don't you have to ask yourself why your 13 year old daughter is looking for sex online? Blame chatrooms all you want, but I think something bigger might be going on.

So I started thinking about the Christianity I grew up in. And the whole idea of Christian schools in general. And I can't remember how many times a preacher warned us about the evils of tv, rock music, movies, even unapproved books. But tv doesn't make you rebellious. Rock music doesn't make you drink in high school. Movies don't make you impregnate your high school girlfriend. They were so afraid to let us be unsupervised, even for a second, because we might start fornicating, or listening to devil music, or some other sin. But they never really questioned why we all tried to fornicate or listen to devil music or do anything that we weren't supposed to as soon as they turned their backs.

It seems to me that our instinct is to create a cause and effect scenario that we can easily understand. Take school violence. We want to say that the child played to many video games, and now he went and tried to bring a gun to school. It's simple. So we condemn the video games and put metal detectors up in our school. And we never actually try to figure out what we can do to help this kid.

The government is great at this. Last week some guy put a Fake Boarding Pass Generator on his website. Basically you could go to his website and create a fake airline ticket, and put any name, date, and flight number you wanted. He did this to point out the ridiculousness of our present airport security procedures. And it's not like he's the first one to figure this out. While researching this issue, I read at least 4 articles written in the past 3 years to point out that you could defeat the security checks pretty easily. So what did the government do? Knocked down his front door and confiscated his computers. What did Congressman Edward Markey do? Call for his arrest, because "we should not tolerate any new loopholes making it easier for terrorists to get into the front door of a plane." Why are we only not tolerating easier ways to exploit loopholes? Why aren't we fixing the loopholes?

I'm sorry if this doesn't seem very focused. But I have started seeing this trend everywhere, and it is driving me nuts. And I didn't want this post to be only about any one of these issues, because we do this in every area of our lives. I wanted to talk about all of this because this idea is holistic. This is something I have been trying to think about in every context of my life. Whether Jess and I are fighting, or I am watching tv, or I am reading the newspaper-- I keep taking a second look and realizing that I am ignoring the real issue.

This post is not thought provoking

2006-09-23T21:01:00.000-05:00

It really isn't. Just a bunch of random crap I wanted to put out here.

Last spring Justin put up a website at forumsplace.com, and nobody ever used it. After the last couple posts, I thought it would be a great place to have some of the discussions that have been taking place. So I posted some questions about truth on his site. I really think that should be a starting point for these discussions.

Some of you may have noticed a new addition to the bottom of my sidebar. The button with the picture of a bird is a link to the website, www.freederekwebb.com. Derek Webb is a Christian musician who is making his most recent album available free of charge. On his website, he gives this explanation: "I found that music has been an exceptional means by which to get this potentially difficult conversation going, and this is certainly an important moment for dialogue amongst people who disagree."

I have to say, "CCM" is not my thing. At all. But this album is phenomenal. It cuts to the core of many of the issues we are dealing with today. His lyrics are exceptional and thought provoking. I have been listening to it almost constantly the past week and a half. You should all go download it instantly if you haven't already. I leave you with the lyrics from his song, A New Law.

Don't teach me about politics and government,
Just tell me who to vote for.
Don't teach me about truth and beauty,
Just label my music.
Don't teach me how to live like a free man,
Just give me a new law.

I don't want to know, if the answers aren't easy.
Just bring it down from the mountain to me.
Just give me a new law.

Don't teach me about moderation and liberty,
I prefer a shot of grape juice.
Don't teach me about loving my enemies,
Don't teach me how to listen to the spirit,
Just give me a new law.

Because what's the use in trading a law you can never keep,
For one you can, but cannot get you anything?

Do not be afraid.

Good to know that if I ever need attention, all I have to do is die

2006-09-06T12:52:00.000-05:00

Thank you everyone for all the comments on my last post. I agree with all of you.

The original purpose of my last post was to explain why I had posted on political topics twice in a row. If you know me, you know I generally steer clear of political discussion. I felt I should explain the issues that motivated me to talk politics. It was never meant to be a treatise on my "disillusionment."

The bigger purpose of the post was to discuss my own hypocrisy. The fact that I love philosophy and apologetics but I know that I will never have the answers. The way I claim not to care about what anybody thinks, but there I am in the corner--rocking back and forth, waiting for your validation. I love the way that I think I am pretty unique in the way I view music and art and life in general, but I spend all my time trying to convince everyone to think like me. And then there was my last post--a post responding to comments by saying that I don't write in reaction to comments. So, like Kanye West, I want to condemn the problem, but admit that I am part of the problem, as well.

So let me address a small portion of what was said in the comments.

Anon: I agree that my disillusionment was caused by a lack of real knowledge about God. But getting rid of my "disillusionment" didn't help my view of God. I needed to address why I had those issues before I could get past them. Confessing or repenting of my "rebellion" did nothing for my relationship with God. Trust me, I tried.

Ryan: Thanks. I couldn't have said any of that better. It is so much more meaningful in that it is real. You cut to the core of what everyone was trying to say without any of the pretentious "spirituality."

Josh: I never really claimed to be the only one to see hypocrisy in the church, or to go to a war zone, or to prefer green M&Ms over brown. But I do think the sum of my experiences are most likely different then yours. Remember kindergarten? They talked about snowflakes and how each individual snowflake is different. Well, gravity is constant, isn't it? So individuality shouldn't matter. Gravity is true. We all believe it, and I would be the last person to doubt that it exists. But some snowflakes come straight down and land in your eye, while others float down slowly and dance away when you try to catch them on your tongue. See, gravity is the same, but it affects snowflakes all differently when combined with all the other factors. So I don't think I am the only one to do anything, but I think I can occasionally offer a unique viewpoint on some particular subject.

Also, I am interested about what you say is a "pattern of worldliness" in my life. I talked about that topic a little in a previous post called GodCon06. I would be interested to see what you thought.

And I have no clue how you can say that religion and a relationship with God is totally intergrated. I'm sorry, I just think that is ignorant. Do you know anything about history?

Jess:I think you really hit on the crux of this whole issue when you talked about when manufactured Christianity. For me, the manufactured Christianity I had in my mind collapsed completely in Iraq because I was no longer in an environment where it was easy for me to be a nominal Christian. For some people, it is a failed relationship. For others, it could just be an unsettling conversation. But at some point, everyone hits a crisis point. A point where the actions they have been taking in the name of Christianity don't cut it, and they realize they need to cry out to God and find a real relationship.

So I guess this is where I tell you how I am right and people who disagree with me are wrong. But I'm not going to. And it's not just because I am trying to promote some "postmodern" ethic of acceptance. It's because I'm sick of trying to defend myself. I think that what I believe is right. If I didn't believe it was right, I would find something else to believe in. And I think there are things going on in fundamentalism and politics today that need to be spoken out against. And if one of those issues comes up, I will speak out. But I don't want to sit here and spend all me time defending myself and attacking others. That isn't the purpose of this blog. This isn't Sharper Iron. So don't act like it. But if you want to be part of this conversation, I would love for you to contribute. No matter who you are or what you believe.

Besides, maybe I am wrong. Maybe I shouldn't shouldn't listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd and read Karl Marx. Maybe I should listen to Tsaichovsky and read Thomas Jefferson. A pedophile and a man who raped his slaves are far more Christian than hillbilly rock and a communist. Maybe I should qoute from Mozart's Don Giovanni instead of Kayne West's College Dropout. Maybe I should innoculate myself from the culture I am supposed to be reaching. Maybe I should convince myself that Jesus loved capitalism. I'll just find interpretive meanings for all those verses about helping the poor. Maybe I could even change my hairstyle and clothes to make myself more conspicuous. Maybe I should spend all my time justifying my own veiwpoints over the beliefs of others.

But wait--I am already doing that.

NASB is so two years ago

2006-08-16T21:45:00.000-05:00

In the book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon says, "I saw that wisdom excels folly... yet I know that one fate befalls them both...Why then have I been extremely wise? So I said to myself, 'This too is futility'." (Ecc. 2:13-15 NASB)

On Kanye West's album College Dropout, he talks about insecurity in his song "Never let me down." He spends the first part of the song condemning black culture for being obsessed with material things. But then he admits that he is just as guilty of it as anybody else.

There has recently been some dissatisfaction expressed from my audience. Some of you (Justin and RuthAnn) haven't liked what I posted about recently. And I want to address this.

The little black letters at the top of the page say, "Welcome to whatever the heck I feel like saying." 'Nuff said.

But, I do realize my last two posts have verged into territory not normally included in my blogdom, so I humbly request to be given a chance to explain myself.

My dissillusionment with religion began sometime around my eigth and ninth grade years. It grew quietly unnoticed for a while, but eventually became to big for me to ignore. I tried abandoning religion for a while, and thus get rid of that nagging feeling something was wrong, but that never really worked for one reason or another. It wasn't until I immersed myself
in my dissillusionment and wrestled with it that I began to find peace.

So now, as I continue to struggle with my issues, whether borne out of my stay in lovely Mortar-itaville, or just out of honest disagreement with my leaders, I refuse to abandon patriotism and politics and social justice because I'm thinking along different lines than other people. I am going to face my dissillusionment, wrestle with it and someday, maybe find some peace.

The funny thing is, though, as much as I try not to care about what other people think of my writing, I'm actually quite obsessed with it. And as much as I pride myself in the fact that I have a relatively unique perspective on religion and life and art, I still think that every one should agree with me.

"I have seen that every labor and every skill which is done is the result of rivalry between a man and his neighbor. This too is futility." (Ecc. 4:4 NASB)

Karl Marx was a genius.

Just like warm apple legislation

2006-07-25T20:28:00.000-05:00

I really don't want to make politics a regular subject on this blog. But I have been thinking about it for the past week, and I feel compelled to comment just this once, upon the loss of our president's veto-ginity.

Now, I am not going to discuss the absurdity of the fact that it took him six years to break out the veto pen. I do not have the energy, time, or space to deal with that topic. I want to discuss the issue involved with this momentous occasion.

Stem cell research. Let me make a few disclaimers first. First, I don't understand the science. At all. And that doesn't really bother me. Second, because I don't really understand the science, I am not going to choose a side of the issue of stem cell research.

So what am I writing about? I don't necessarily disagree with the president's decision. Nor would I have disagreed had he approved the bill and been wholeheartedly in favor of stem cell research.

I was watching the video clip they have for the news shows, and it shows President Bush holding and kissing and playing with a bunch of kids that were originally frozen stem cells or something. They were called "snowflakes." And then during the press conference, his press secretary answered a question with a dissmisive comment something along the lines of "the president will not sign a bill that endorses murder."

I wonder what the tone of the video clip would have been if, instead of frozen stem cells, he had been kissing the foreheads of children with Parkinson's disease. I wonder if children born without kidneys would have made a good photo shoot. Maybe a heartwarming nickname for them would have looked just as good in the newspapers. And I'm sure the staff at Fox News could have found something to say about the president "unwilling to allow an opportunity to cure terminal diseases pass us by."

There are valid points on both sides of this argument. This is not a black and white issue. But then again, very few issues are. What bothers me about this whole situation is that the president isn't acknowledging the moral ambiguities that are inherent in any discusion of science's interaction with the span of a human life.

I think that the closer you get to an issue, the more gray you see. If you only want to look at the surface of an issue, it may appear black and white. But I promise if you look closer, little shades of gray will begin to appear. I just wish our government wasn't so monochromatic.

Explosions and burnt flesh

2006-07-06T13:50:00.000-05:00

I have been sitting here for the past 20 minutes listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd trying to come up with something appropriate to say about Independence day. You know, stars and stripes and loving America and President Bush and SUVs and Jesus in that order--like any good American vet.

I just don't have it. The only thing I can think of writing about the holiday is a quote from the movie Dazed and Confused. Just as the kids are leaving class for the summer, you hear the hippie feminist teacher say, "Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you're being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth Of July brouhaha, don't forget what you're celebrating, and that's the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn't want to pay their taxes."

I know I should focus on the freedoms and oppportunites. On a heritage that we should be proud of. But something changed in Iraq. I just got sick of looking only at American past and present in only positive terms. I want to be honest. I don't want to praise our manifest destiny when we eradicated entire nations of indigenous people with our alcohol, smallpox, and racism. I want to be honest about our manipulation of foreign politics for our economic gain, whether it is Mexico, Columbia, Nicaragua, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, or Iraq. I want to recognize and condemn when a president uses foriegn conflict to distract the American public from the real issues happening within his administration.

And I don't think that makes me less patriotic. I don't think that makes me love my country any less. I want to be honest about my dissillusionment and distrust, and I want to find a leader that is worthy of my support. I have looked into the eyes of men that have sacrificed everything for their country--careers, family, money, home, limbs, and life. And I want to believe that their sacrifices are worth it. I want to believe that they sacrificed for an ideal and a better life, not for Halliburton.

You might say that this post is a little cynical. I agree. I think cynicism is the result of mixing idealism with honest evaluation. If you don't truly believe in ideals, it won't bother you when the harsh realities of life are laid bare. But when you truly believe in freedoom and truth and peace, that is when you struggle to deal with the fact that money, sex, and power are the motivations of our leaders.

I want to be able to stand behind the path that my country is choosing. But I want to be open to dialogue about what path it is that we should choose. And I don't think that makes me un-American.

I don't know. Maybe '70's hillbilly rawk isn't patriotic enough. Maybe I should go find some Toby Keith. He will save me from my pinko commie thoughts.

Houseguests in an Agatha Chrisite novel

2006-06-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure if I am ever going to watch an NBA game again. DWade won two consecutive games on the free throws from questionable fouls called on Dirk Nowitski. Wade also made more free throws than the rest of the team combined attempted. Dallas had every opportunity to tie the game in the final seconds, and one of their best three point shooters bricked the game winner. Props to DWade, but the whole series just felt sloppy. Sloppy and inconsistent. For the teams and the officials.

I am going to help ESPN save Monday Night Football. My plan is simple. Replace Al Michaels, John Madden, or whoever the crap they have as announcers with British guys. Seriously. The British announcers are one of the main reasons I love watching soccer on TV. They have funny accents and they are actually literate, unlike 90% of American sports announcers. Perfect example--during the beginning of today's match between Ivory Coast and Serbia/Montenegro, the announcer said that these teams were like "houseguests in an Agatha Christie novel--disposed of right away."

So I don't know if anybody really caught where I was going with the apple tree question. I actually wasn't just saying something random and weird. It had a real point. Why do apple trees produce apples? Because they are apple trees. They don't have to do anything different than be what they are. And it shows.

We talk about actions all the time. We talk about actions that are sinful, or innappropriate, or just wrong. But the actions don't have anything to do with what's actually going on. They are really an unrelated byproduct of what is going on inside. Jesus talks about this in the sermon on the mount. He talks about how the law makes specific prohibitions about murder, adultery, divorce, honesty, and retaliation. And his point is that all of these things are not the issue. Abiding by the law doesn't make you righteous in God's eyes. Controlling actions is like trying to make pears grow on an apple tree.

Good night and good luck

2006-06-11T22:38:00.000-05:00

I am watching the NBA Finals, and I'm pretty sure that the apocalypse is imminent. One of the NBA's "premier" players has missed 14 of 16 free throws and only scored a total of 22 points in the first seven quarters of the finals, and Pat Riley is being out-coached by a guy who was a mediocre point guard just two or three years ago. Unbelievable.

Just to let everybody know, I am no longer being a worthless drain on society. I have a job. I am working at Roundy's in Oconomowoc. So if the posts slow down a little, bite me. More importantly, Jess landed a job at Lake Mills High School teaching English. She was one of over 125 applicants, and was the unanimous choice of the hiring committee. So, yeah, she is officially awesome.

Check out this video on YouTube. It is of the ending of the Mrs. World pageant. It is actually really funny.

Think about this for a minute--why do apple trees produce apples?

Let me know what you think.

Turd Ferguson

2006-05-31T12:47:00.000-05:00

Here are my threeves.

CDs
1. Beatles -White Album
In my opinion, absolutely the best album ever. This album encompasses the amazing range of sound that the Beatles so flawlessly produce without ever seeming disjointed. I love this album.

2. Guster -Keep It Together
An awesome CD. Relaxing, thought provoking, wistful--everything an indie band should be.

3. Frank Sinatra vs Notorious BIG -Blue Eyes Meets Bed Stuy
Somebody took clips Frank Sinatra songs and used them as the choruses during Notorious BIG songs. Brilliant. It demonstrates that no matter what kind of music you sing, you can still marginalize women and abuse chemical substances.

4. Brand New -Your Favorite Weapon/Taking Back Sunday -Tell All Your Friends
These CDs are good when you listen to them separately. But when you listen to them together, these albums become something entirely different. Written by two best friends about the girl and the fight that tore them apart, these CDs explore the depths of betrayal, pain, and the fine line between love and hate.

Movies
First of all, I can't argue with Ryan's choices. Probably because he was one of the formative influences in my movie tastes. I think that those are five of the best movies ever. They would all make my top fifteen. But here is threeve of my favorite dramatic movies.

1. Pulp Fiction
Tarantino's best work. Reservior Dogs is more graphic, Kill Bill is visually stunning, Jackie Brown is crappy, but Pulp Fiction is just amazing.

2. The Godfather Part One
Do I really even need to explain myself on this one?

3. Fight Club
This is one of my favorite books, and oddly enough, I think it works equally well, if not better, as a movie. Brad Pitt and Ed Norton are two of the best in the business, and they are both at the top of their game in this movie. Visceral, raw, and uncompromising, this movie is amazing, but not for the sheltered or morally sensitive.

4. The Matrix Part One
This movie is kind of an action movie, kind of a sci-fi, and kind of a philosophical statement. I really like the way it is all blended with groundbreaking visual effects to produce a complete package.

5. Full Metal Jacket
Really the only military movie that really expresses the paradox of military service for an honest intellectual. And Stanley Kubrik rocks. But that's a different post.

Funny Movies
This is a totally different category, simply because in a funny movie, the emphasis is not on acting or cinematography, but on funniness. I know this is a difficult concept, but think about it for a while-- I'm sure you will understand eventually.

1. Zoolander
I just love this movie. I could watch it everyday and still laugh through the entire movie.

2. Office Space
The humor lies in the fact that we all know someone from this movie.

3. Anchorman
Will Ferrell plays a jazz flute and rides a unicorn in this movie. And Steve Carrell stabs a man in the heart with a trident.

4. Kung Pow: Enter the Fist
This movie is hilarious. Words cannot describe the hilarity. You should probably just go watch it, because I really can't describe it.

5. Dodgeball
"I don't think Hallmark makes an 'I'm sorry your dodgeball coach was killed by 2,000 lbs of irony' card." You could literally quote any line from this movie, and it would be hilarious in its own right. Plus, you have to respect a movie that includes cameos from Lance Armstrong and Chuck Norris.

Random Movies
Movies that don't fit into either of the above categories but that I think you should watch anyways.

1. Thank You For Smoking
I just watched this and laughed through the whole thing. But it really wasn't just a funny movie. It was so absurd and yet possible that it touched one of the latent fears of every idealist--a government that is as capitalistic as Carnegie and Rockefeller.

2. Napoleon Dynamite
Even though I still think this movie is funny and eminently quotable, I find it overwhelmingly ironic and sad that a movie about someone on the outer fringes of popularity has turned into a juggernaut of popular culture. What was a hilarious and delightfully indie movie is now sickeningly popular. Trendy young girls everywhere are wearing '80s snow boots and jocks are wearing "Vote for Pedro" t-shirts. Wasn't the point of the movie to examine the life of someone wanted to prove he didn't need the validation of the "cool kids" to be cool?

3. Saved!
An enlightening satire of evangelicalism and Christianity as it is viewed by mainstream society. It will make you laugh, step on your toes, and leave you feeling attacked and vindicated at the same time.

4. Hero
This movie would have made it into the top dramas except it is in Chinese. Beautiful cinematography, amazing use of color as a thematic tool, and a powerful meassage. Whatever you do, do not watch this with the English dubbing. Please, for your own sake, read the subtitles. When you listen to it in English, it just feels like a live action Pokemon movie.

Animated TV Shows
1. Family Guy
I love this show, and if you have seen it, I don't need to explain myself.

2. Looney Tunes
The basis of all of modern popular culture. Period.

3. The Simpsons
The basis of the next generation of popular culture.

4. The Boondocks
Aaron McGruder is one of the unrecognized giants of satire. In a world where random spoofing and mocking of popular culture is the norm, his work is textbook satire in its purpose, its characterization, and its execution. You need to read his comic strip and watch his show.

Books
That aren't the Bible.

1. Pardise Lost by John Milton
The most powerful use of the English language that I have ever read.

2. Republic by Plato
The basis of all Western philosophy.

3. The Art of War by Sun Tzu
If you haven't read this, I don't want to talk to you anymore. If you want to read it, let me know. I have three copies, just in case.

4. Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
I haven't actually read this book, but I want to, and I think that if it was one of the threeve I had left, that I could discipline myself to actually read it.

5. America: A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction by the writers of the Daily Show
It's like the Daily Show does history class. And economics and political science. All in one.

Random Favorite Things To Do
1. Ride my motorcycle
0-60 in less than 3 seconds. Any questions?

2. Watch tv with one hand down my pants
It's not as perverted as it sounds. Think Al Bundy from Married with Children.

3. Mispronounce commonly used Spanish words
Like gracias, taco, fajita, and quesadilla.

4. Pirate music
Arrrgh.

Worst Paperback Novels I Have Ever Read
1. Anything by Louis L'amour
I read something of his while I was in Iraq during a particularly depressing time, and the book almost convinced me that the American way of life wasn't worth fighting for.

2. Deception Point by Dan Brown
Actually anything by Dan Brown before Angels & Demons and DaVinci Code is really, really bad. But Deception Point wins hands down because it includes guns that shoot bullets made of ice. The bullets then melt and are undetectable to police. Umm, yeah.

3. King of Torts by John Grisham
The book isn't actually that bad--it's pretty standard Grisham--but who would look at the title "King of Torts" and think, "Wow, I bet this one's a thriller!" Seriously. I think it is quite possibly the worst book title ever. Textbooks for upper level accounting classes have more seductive names.

4. Batman Begins, novelization by Dennis O'Neil
Ok, whenever the front of the book says "novelization by somebody, based on the original screenplay..." you should realize what is coming. And I guess I did. But I read it anyways. Now, I liked the movie, but if you are just novelizing a screenplay that depends on Katie Holmes to hold up half of the movie, you are in trouble. I am actually surprised this guy allowed his name to be put on this book.

Mustaches
I had already been planning this category even before Slim mentioned it in his comment. Their names are links to their pictures.

1. Rollie Fingers
If you know baseball history, I don't think I need to explain this. At all.

2. Adam Morrison
I know we all heard enough about this during March, but I still think it's awesome.

3. Lanny McDonald
Apparently, Lanny was a really good hockey player in the early '80s with the Calgary Flames. I couldn't care less. But look at the lip carpet on this dude.

4. Rusty Jones
I know, he is just a cartoon product logo. But I think he may give Lanny a run for his money.

Honorable mention: Kyle Orton- I firmly believe his facial hair was the key to the Bears success last year. In the huddle, the whole offense could nestle in his neck beard and stay warm, thus giving them an advantage over their opponents.

Are you reading 1% because you think you're fat? Because you're not. You could be reading whole.

2006-05-19T15:55:00.000-05:00

This isn't going to be very long. I am headed across the lake to Michigan. Since my wife is from Michigan, I will refrain from any characterizations of that...umm...illustrious...state. Please feel free to express your characterizations in the comment area.

I just wanted to post to express the majesty of this past week's intellectual diet. In the past week I have read The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thorton Wilder, Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer, and parts of Terror in the Name of God by Jessica Stern, Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell, and George Orwell's classic 1984. I have also watched Citizen Kane, Blackhawk Down, Walk the Line, Shopgirl, Thumbsucker, Anchorman, Dodgeball, and part of Dirty Harry.

You should immediately drop what you are doing and go read all of these books, and watch all of these movies.

GodCon06

2006-05-16T01:25:00.000-05:00

I think the problem with Christians is that we are too much like everybody else.

Yes, this is still Dale's blog. I am unfortunately not under the influence of any illegal substances, and I am not being held at gunpoint by the fundamentalist mafia.

But I stand by my previous statement.

How can the problem be that Christians still aren't different enough? Fundamentalism is militant on being clearly different when it comes to clothing, music, and entertainment. And evangelicalism's culture war rages on every day over homosexuality, abortion, politics, and even moderately crappy thriller novels that Ron Howard is making into summer blockbusters.

I have never been to a comic book convention. I have never actually been to any real convention before. I have been to a couple home and garden expos, and a bunch of flea markets, but I don't think those count. So I really don't have any experiential backing for what I am about to ask.

Who is the coolest kid at the Star Trek convention? Is it the guy wearing Abercrombie or is it the dude with the pointy ears and the comb-looking thing over his eyes? Why is that? What happened to the normal rules about cool and not cool?

I watched Star Wars Episode III opening weekend. The theater was pretty packed, but I still remember these two guys. One of them had his face painted to look like Darth Maul, and the other was dressed like a Jedi. And I remember that when they walked past me, they weren't embarrassed at all. They were really proud of their outfits. I'm pretty sure that they thought they were the coolest people in the room. I didn't know what to think. Part of me thought it would be really cool to walk around dressed like a Jedi. And the other part of me wanted to stay engaged.

I grew up in a world that normal people don't believe actually exists. Women never wore pants. TV was only for sports, and even that was carefully rationed. I never watched movies. Even animated Disney stuff. There was even a little while that I didn't wear shorts because some people thought they weren't modest. I could have gotten kicked out of the high school because I listened to Nat King Cole occasionally on the radio. Two of my friends (a guy and a girl) got kicked out for talking on the phone when they were in 11th grade.

The problem was that even though all of us were raised in a moral incubator, we still had problems. None of us related well to our parents or our peers. We were all violently insecure. Some of my friends dealt with mental or verbal abuse to varying degrees, from either their parents or the church/school staff. And I know of at least 7 people within a year or two of me who dealt with extremely serious substance abuse issues.

So, even though we were good at acting holy, we sucked at living.

Sometimes I imagine that we are all at this big Christianity convention. And everybody wants to be the coolest kid at GodCon. So we think of all these new ways to be a better Christian. We won't listen to this, and we don't want to be associated with those people. And this group has the newest technology, but these people have this killer marketing plan for their suburb. The group over in the corner thinks that they are the only people that have really figured out God, but everybody else thinks pretty much the same thing. This dude just wrote a book about why culture is headed to hell. And this guy thinks that if he is on American Idol he will be able to reach so many more people. These people are quoting the Bible to support the war in Iraq, and across the room these other people are quoting other verses to condemn the war in Iraq. And eventually people start sorting themselves out by who watches what, and who drinks that, and if your shoes are flat, and whether you read that version.

And the whole time, there is this guy standing by the bathrooms looking around. And he doesn't care what verses your four-point sales pitch uses. He doesn't need your cup of coffee or fancy booklet. He doesn't care about a tulip, or the distinctives of your denomination.

He wants to know why your life doesn't suck. He wants to know why he feels like there is this whole part of him that feels incomplete. He wants to know how you can lose your job, or your friend, or your car, and then get up in the morning. When that crap happens to him, he wants to drink the pain away. Or he tries to hurt his wife, or his kid, or himself. He wants to know why he shouldn't cheat on his wife, and why he should forgive his dad.

And he looks around, and he realizes that we don't know any of this stuff, either. He sees hotheads. He sees manipulators. He sees hypocrites. He sees people that get their validation by putting down the people around them, and he sees people who abandon their family to get ahead.

So he looks at us and he realizes that we are just like trekkies. We have this different way of dressing, and talking, and all of this stuff that we do. We have a totally different heirarchy of what is cool. And if you are good at being one of us, it is pretty validating. But we don't actually get it. We aren't any better at living--loving people, dealing with problems, living with a sense of purpose, keeping a steady moral compass--than anybody else.

Congraduation

2006-05-08T20:44:00.000-05:00

Obligatory congrats to all graduates.
And to Josh, may he live forever; it's about time.
To my wife, I am so proud of you. And now you can be my sugar-momma.

A couple sites that you all should immediately check out:

For all of you who enjoy Jackson Pollock

Really funny motivational posters

REALLY funny parody of the DaVinci Code

My threeves will be coming soon.

Threeve

2006-05-02T22:01:00.000-05:00

I was thinking today, and I was trying to figure out what I would do if I could only listen to three CDs for the rest of my life. Or read three books. Or see five works of art, watch three movies, sit on five couches--whatever. So I decided to ask for a little feedback from my blogdom.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you would do if you could only have 3-5 of whatever it is that you enjoy. And maybe, if you are good little commenters, I will tell you what 3-5 Cds, books, etc. I would choose.

...three hundred sixty-five...

2006-04-25T22:06:00.000-05:00

I don't know what I think about blogging yet. A blog is a platform by which anybody can publish their thoughts, dreams, their rants and raves--basically anything they want. I find that unimaginably frightening.

It is kind of like cable tv. Even with more than two hundred channels, Speed 2 is the best option for my viewing pleasure as I write this. Just because there are more opportunities to communicate doesn't mean that anybody is actually communicating anything worthwhile.

So what is it that I believe that I can offer the blogging community? What makes me as a writer or blogger worth listening to? I am not the funniest person on the internet. Nor am I the smartest. So what can I offer you?

As I thought this through, I realized that I really have nothing new for you. I am never going to be the best writer in the world. I don't have the best vocabulary, or the best syntax. I do have strengths--if I can say that without sounding arrogant. But by no means am I a great writer. And I'm really not that great of a thinker. I try to dig beneath the surface. I try to understand. But the best I can do is stand on the shoulders of giants.

So what is the one thing that I can offer? Honesty. Brutal, uncompromising honesty. That is the only truly unique thing I can offer.

So here it is. Today is the one year anniversary of a plane crash. A horrible, senseless accident that took the life of one of my best friends. And I don't know what I feel.

Jess thinks that grieving is simply getting used to missing someone. I think she's right. I don't miss Ace any less after one year. I am just used to it.

I think about him all the time. I still have a hard time playing cards. I get depressed anytime I hear Linkin Park or 50 Cent. I think about him everytime I see an obnoxious belt buckle or a t-shirt with a not-so-hidden meaning.

Sometimes I think about him and I feel like I am about to explode. I feel like I have to hold everything in because if I don't, all of me will just spill out and there won't be anything left. And sometimes I think about him and feel so profoundly empty. I feel like someone sucked the life out of my chest. My throat and ribs tighten until I can hardly breathe.

I don't understand anything about Ace's death. I don't understand how it happened. I don't understand why it happened. I don't understand what I am supposed to be learning. I don't understand what God is trying to do.

But I am getting used to it. I don't know how. I don't know why. I don't want to. But I am.

I wrote this a year ago today:

I've never felt this way before. I desperately want just to sleep and make the hurt go away, yet every second I'm not crying I feel disgusted with myself. I feel jealous and angry every time they show his face on the news and every time the play the recording of his last phone call. I feel like they don't deserve to hear his voice. They aren't worthy to hear his emotion. I am filled with hate everytime someone who doesn't know him comes up to me and asks me how I'm doing, and reminds me that God is good, or that God's will is perfect. I hear that enough from the little voice in the back of my head, and every time that little voice speaks, my whole mind, soul, and body wish they could strangle that little voice.
I feel cheated. Cheated that I have only known him for 3 years. Cheated that I was gone so much of that time. Cheated that he left at I time that I wanted him to be here so much. Cheated that he won't see Jess's engagement ring. Cheated that he won't be able to show me around D.C. this summer. Cheated that he never took me up flying. Cheated that he won't be at my bachelor party. Cheated that he won't stand next to me when I get married. It's not right. He was supposed to be there for all of that. He was supposed to get married, and have me stand up for him. He was supposed to have kids. His kids were supposed to meet my kids. We were supposed to get together every Labor Day for a barbeque.
I just want to tell him how much he has meant to me. I want to tell him how great of a friend he was. I want to tell him how much I admired his confidence and self-discipline. I want to tell him how much I wish I had gone out partying with him. I want to tell him how gay those stupid belt buckles were, but how much I loved that he wore them. And the same with those shoes he had his freshman year. And his tie that says "On a mission from God." I want to tell him how much I miss him already.

I still miss him.

Moisture is the essence of wetness...

2006-04-21T16:28:00.000-05:00

I realized today how fickle a thing beauty is.

After another morning of white-trashing it (sitting on the couch, watching tv, and reading), I decided to take the bike out for a ride. I didn't really have anywhere to go, I just wanted to stretch her legs. So I decided to try to get lost in the tangle of roads that fill the blank spaces of Dodge county.

Six songs later in my American Idiot/Dookie playlist, I stumbled upon a town called Lowell. Population three hundred something. As I rode down the main street, I was struck with the peculiar beauty of this town. It was as if this town had existed, untouched by anything other than time. Two churches looked comfortably out of place, and the river silently fell beneath the bridge. Two graveyards, one Main street bar, and a restuarant that looked like it had been converted from a garage. The buildings were in a state of disrepair that spoke only of time and distracted mothers. Clutter stared at me from boarded up windows, and the faded, lime green siding pointed. And then it was gone. The road was surrounded again by farms and hills.

I had to go back. I wanted to stop, and walk around. I wanted to bring my wife, and my camera. I wanted to talk to its residents, and to drink in its beauty. But as I drove back through town, I couldn't see it. It wasn't there. Now all I saw was white trash America. Crappy, run down buildings on crappy, run down streets. No beauty. No mystery. No life.

So what is it about beauty? Why can't it be recreated or controlled? How can something be so perfect one day and the next day, so nauseatingly bad?

I wrote a post in February about a song that made me stop in my tracks. A song that brought my past into perspective so suddenly that it made my soul dizzy. I couldn't remember how I had survived before I heard that song.

That song was on the radio last week, and I changed the station.

So why do we try to nail down what is beautiful or true or just?

Eight balls, yellow submarines, and vomit

2006-04-19T14:12:00.000-05:00

Some people occasionally get in the mood to read a book. I don't. I become obsessed. I have to read. And I have to read a lot. I can't be satisfied with a few pages, or maybe some magazine articles, or even a regular book. I need to devour information. Lots of information. I can't stop until I have gorged myself on literature. It generally follows three main steps.

During the first step, I feel like I can't read enough. Life becomes an annoyance, because I can't constantly read. Sleep is frustrating. Eating wastes time, unless I have a book with me. I only want to do things that will facilitate me reading more.

The second phase consists of me entering a trance-like state. I practically stop being aware of words, pages, and chapters. I simply absorb the material. It is like I am injecting information directly into my veins. Time and space cease to exist.

Eventually I snap out of the second phase, and realize all of the implications and logical extensions of all of that I have been reading. After that, I generally have to do something. Write, draw, create, destroy--it doesn't really matter. It is like my brain can't handle all of the new activity, so it has to spit some back out.

I am waffling between the first and second steps right now. I'm sure you will be able to figure out when I hit step 3.

Now there really is a new laxative on the horizon...

2006-04-17T01:06:00.000-05:00

No title could be more fitting for the post that I announce Josh Ledgerwood's entrance into blogdom.

Seriously, even though Josh writes with all the grammatical prowess of a chimpanzee on meth, his sheer mental potency makes anything he publishes worth reading.

I know that I haven't posted in a long time. It has been a weird week. I have quite a bit that I want to get out there, but I don't know if I will be able to verbalize it all. I will promise that I will try.

Happy Easter. Read what RuthAnn said about our wonderful Baptist tradition of completely downplaying the Lent/Good Friday/Easter season.

There's a new laxative on the horizon

2006-03-30T22:15:00.000-06:00

I don't really have much to say. Just some links to look at.

First, this is a really funny site.

Here is a really interesting article--probably the most spiritually challenging thing I have read in a while.

Check out this website. It is supposed to test your tolerance and/or biases. Tell me what you think about the test.

And, that's about it...

Making friends at the Slough of Despond

2006-03-26T18:38:00.000-06:00

I hate when people tell me, "You have to check out this book--I know you will love it." It just bugs me. Do you realize what that really means? "I like this book, and since I view you on a relatively equal intellectual plain, therefore you will inherently love this book since I hold the ultimate moral/intellectual/aesthetic standard."

So I will not tell you that you should read The Last True Story I'll Ever Tell. Because honestly, I don't think you will love it. I did.

The Last True Story I'll Ever Tell: An Accidental Soldier's Account of the War in Iraq is a collection of stories told by John Crawford, an infantryman in the Florida National Guard during roughly the first year of Operation Iraqi Freedom. It chronicles, in a eclectic manner, his experiences from the beggining invasion until he returned to the US. He tells how he found out that he was going to Iraq while he was on his honeymoon, and how he had only two credits until graduation. He says that this book is "the story of a group of college students who wanted nothing to do with someone else's war." He tells of ineffective supply and incompetent leadership. His stories don't always have a conclusion, and he makes no effort to systematically develop the reader's understanding of his exact environment or fellow soldiers. He just tells stories.

To some of you, this book will be a vulgar collection of horrifying stories--swear words littered on pages of nihilism and despair. And if you get past the Army colloquialisms and the language that would peel the paint off of a wall, you will find yourself lost in a maze of relativism, conflicted emotions, and uncertainty. Uncertainty about everything other than the emptiness of existence. You may find this book depressing and confusing, disturbing and foreign.

This book represents something entirely different to me. His voice echoes the ones inside my head, and the tone of his writing brings back more emotion than could ever be absorbed. He struggles with his moral compass, just as I did, just as I watched every one of my friends struggle. We searched in vain for the same purpose and moral high ground. We reveled in the same sadomasochistic existence, knowing that as meaningless as today was, tommorrow would be worse. And some part of me loved that, took pride in the fact that I had broken through those limits where sanity was supposed to forsake you. And maybe sanity had.

In the end, this book allows me accept my experiences. It reminds me that my whole year wasn't a dream. I didn't imagine anything. This book gives me permission to move on, and to grow. To lovingly take my memories--my depression, my nihilism, my disillusionment--and lock them away forever. To lock them away in the same deep reccess of my mind that I locked away the memory of loved ones while I did my time in hell.

Suck-Blow-Jayhole

2006-03-23T12:44:00.000-06:00

And so begins our second weekend of the tourney. My bracket contains only 9 of the Moderately-Not-Bitter Sixteen. I am now sticking pins in my Jayhawk, Syracuse, and Big Ten dolls. Yes, I have a doll for the entire Big Ten. And there will be pins. Lots of pins.

I have been putting together a blog dedicated to satire. Hopefully I will be able to put something up on it in the next few days. Check it out if you enjoy that adrenaline rush that comes when you back away from the computer really fast and pray that you don't get struck by lightning.

I found a website that compares Fight Club with Calvin & Hobbes. It is actually pretty funny and makes a lot of sense. Check it out here.

Go read P.Diddy's t-shirt

2006-03-17T12:16:00.000-06:00

So, my bracket has survived moderately well, all things considered. 11 for 16 isn't too terrible. I can live with 70 percent. It should have been 12 for 16, but for some inexplicable reason, Steve Novak missed a wide open 3 to win the Marquette/Alabama game. Steve Novak can hit 9 out of 10 while sitting on the bench blindfolded. On the opposite end of the court.

And Syracuse. You know, I had a bad feeling about them. They just finished an emotionally and physically draining run through one of the toughest conferences in the nation. But I thought, "No, they are the hottest team in the country coming out of the tourneys--I have to ride them through the first weekend." Yeah. Good move.

At least UWM and Montana were good to me. That was thoughtful.

And yesterday I forgot to mention--Jess wrote up a sob story about me for some Qdoba contest. Unfortunately, it is all true. Go vote for me so I can get free Qdoba food. And vote for me on all of your emails. I know you have more than one. And vote using your parents emails. And your roommate's emails. And your mortal enemy's email. Vote or die.

Doug Flutie loves me

2006-03-16T14:49:00.000-06:00

It has begun. Angel choirs are singing, the snow-filled clouds have parted, and a beam of heavenly light has fallen upon us. It is time for The Big Dance.

(pause for reverent expressions of joy)

So, my Final Four consists of Duke, Kansas, UConn, and BC, with BC taking it all. I know, BC. They gave me a scare this morning, but came back and saved my butt in double OT. We will see how long my bracket survives before being totally demolished. Odds are, it will be by some gay 14th seeded school that plays in the Mountain Western Ohio Valley Big Sun Blue Sky America Conference. Or some such gayness.

I have added some links to the sidebar. They are all awesome and you should check them regularly.

Also, I found an interesting discussion of the question, "How can the Bible be authoritative?" Be warned, it is an academic paper that is something like 20 pages long. But it is pretty interesting. Read it here.

Geico saved 15% by switching to Chuck Norris.

Jelly donuts and frat houses

2006-03-07T09:50:00.000-06:00

I love crappy gas station cappucino. It's all sugary and nasty at the bottom, and it never has the right amounts of foam or coffee, but I really enjoy it. I don't know why. And, do you know what the perfect compliment to crappy gas station cappucino? Crappy gas station donuts.

The thing about crappy gas station donuts is that you never know how long they have been there. And it doesn't really matter. They taste the same after 4 days on your dashboard as they do when you buy them. It's beautiful. Gas station donuts are impervious to time.

So, imagine that you have a gas station jelly donut in front of you. And as you take the first bite, you come away with a mouthful of frosting, pastry, and wax paper. No jelly. So you take another bite. Still no jelly. Sure, the encrusted sugar frosting and somewhat flaky pastry will satisfy your need for a morning sugar buzz, but that's not why you got the jelly donut.

Sunday morning, as I sat through church, this was all I could think about. As the preacher talked about the tenth commandment, I kept thinking, "Ok, but where's the jelly?" Not once in the entire message did he talk about why coveting is wrong. About why it is one of the ten commandments. He talked plenty about coveting. Defining it, giving examples of it in daily life, and condemning it.

But never once in this message, or the whole series, for that matter, has the jelly really been talked about. That the Ten Commandments are there because God wanted to say to His people, "Listen--I am your God. I am everything. You don't need anything else. So respect that. Honor Me. Worship Me. And I want you to respect other people, too, because I am all that is Loving. Respect your family. Respect other people's lives, because I am all that gives Life. Respect your bodies, because I am all that is Pure. Respect their stuff, because I am all you will need. Respect your relationships with others by being honest, because I am all that is Truth. And you don't need other people's things, or status, or validation, because you have Me. And I know you, and I will take care of you. When you ignore these commandments, it will mess up your relationships on this earth. It will cause problems. But that's because you aren't paying attention to Me. You aren't letting Me be your God."

I think God chose those ten things specifically because each one reflects a human tendency to reject a specific part of His "God-ness." So, the way to deal with those sins is to study that part of His nature. That's the jelly. And that is what has been frustrating me for the past few months of church.

Anyways, in other personal news, the rest of the weekend turned into "My Life: Further Adventures in the Hazing Rituals of Life's Fraternity." If you haven't heard, don't ask me. Ask someone who won't tell you the story and then contemplate downing a bottle of sleeping pills. Or an entire bottle of Robitussin. Or muscle relaxants, sweet muscle relaxants...

Dear Freddie,

2006-02-24T11:46:00.000-06:00

Reverend Phelps:

This is in response to a newspaper article I read on January 7th. Over the past two months, I haven't been able to get any peace about what I read. The story was the account of a demonstration by your family and congregation at the funeral of Sgt. Andrew Wallace. I was outraged. I was shocked. I was offended. I couldn't sleep. I wrote about you on my blog.

But I didn't want to just react. I wanted to take some time. I wanted to think. When I posted on my blog, someone commented and said, "This is about your response to life." That hit me. I wanted to analyze this. I wanted to be careful, and to be honest. I want to respond to you the way I want to respond to life.

Salman Rushdie said, "In order to understand just one life, you have to swallow the whole world." The problem is I don't want to understand you. I want to cry out against you. I don't want to swallow your whole world. I want to vomit you out of mine. But I can't.

The easy answer would be to condemn your actions carte blanche. To make blanket statements about your misinterpretation of scripture. Maybe I could write a scathing open letter, and angrily quote scriptures about love and tolerance, and include insincere prayers for your eternal destiny.

But I don't want to live my life by the easy answers. So here I go. My first blog post about this subject was my reaction. This is my response.

I read about your church-- a church made up mostly of your own family members, according to CNN and the Milwaukee JournalSentinel. I read of your demonstrations at funerals of soldiers, AIDs victims, and celebrities. I read the things you said about the West Virginia mining accident last month, and about the hurricanes Katrina and Rita. I watched the video of your demonstration here in Wisconsin. I read your interviews with websites and journalists. I read what you said about Matthew Shepard, a homosexual who was murdered simply because he was gay. I read about the hate leveled towards you, and your family. I read about the pipe bomb at your daughter's house. I read about your extensive legal battles. I read the letters that people sent your church, and I read the rebuttals.

I'm not going to lie to you. As I was reading, the same emotions kept boiling just beneath the surface. I was angy, offended, nauseated--probably the kind of response you often inspire. And I wanted to explore those emotions. I wanted to wallow in my righteous anger. But I wouldn't be any closer to a real response than when I first heard about you. I would still be reacting. So I took a step back.

I can relate, probably more than most people, to the pipe bomb attack at your daughter's house. I am an Army reservist, and for eleven months, I was deployed with a construction unit to Iraq. The base where I lived was nicknamed "Mortaritaville" because of the amount of mortar and rocket attacks. I am very familiar with explosions. I can still remember what it was like when a 122mm shoulder-launched rocket landed less than 15 feet from me while I was playing volleyball. The force of the impact alone was enough to knock me to my knees, while a wall of sand and gravel washed over me. I can remember the next few minutes--how time slowed down and the shouting and yelling was drowned out by the sound of my heart beating. I can remember feeling myself to ensure that I wasn't bleeding while my eyes frantically searched out my friends to make sure that they were ok. And I can only imagine the reaction that I would have if this had happened at my home.

And I really don't want to get into a debate about theological truth here. I'm not going to argue with you. You use verses to support your position, and so do I. If we really wanted to, we could go back and forth all day, each of us--to varying degrees--pulling text out of context and putting context into the text, quoting and misquoting, all to support our respective views. And at the end of the day, I don't think that either one of us would have convinced the other.

But allow me to state why I disagree with you. I think that you have a warped view of God. You see a God that hates homosexuality, all that practice it, and all that accept it. I see a God that hates all sin. He hates homosexuality and pride. He hates sodomy and contention. You see a God that only loves his few choice people, and I see a God that isn't willing that any should perish. Your God has had enough, and wants to rid His creation of all that tolerate sin, specifically homosexuality. My God loves the prodigal son, even though he spurned Him for so long.

And I think you are demonstrating for the wrong motives. I don't think you are doing this to reach out to these people. I think you want to attack them. And I don't know why that is. I don't know if it is because you feel threatened, or if you really feel that it is the best way to fulfill the Great Commission. I think that you take careful steps to make sure that you are noticed, and that you incite as many people as possible.

But there I go again. Taking the easy way out. Who am I to question your motives? And what about you? Supposedly my God loves everybody, but what do I think about you?

I believe in tolerance. Not because I believe in tolerating sin, but because I believe that I am a sinner. I know that I am horrible and warped and repugnant in God's eyes. And as such, who am I to talk about someone else's sin? I don't have the answers. I haven't attained anything. I am not any closer to meeting God's standards of holiness on my own than anyone else. My only cause for hope is Christ's love.

And honestly, I can't claim that my view of God is perfect. Too often I act like God is a genie or a good luck charm. I don't actually believe that, but that is how I act. And my motives? My whole life has been built on a fruitless quest for validation. What are my motives for writing this letter?

It grieves me that people will associate you with God. That people will harbor bitterness towards all things Christian because of your actions. But what about my actions? My testiomony hasn't always been great. I haven't been a shining example of Christ's love. I know that I have hurt the cause of Christ by my bitterness, or my anger, or my doubt. Who in my life will reject Christ because of me?

Part of me wants to condemn you for the right reasons. I want to show how your philosophies and actions are unbiblical and harmful to the cause of Christ. And part of me wants to hate you for the wrong reasons. Because you are offensive. Because you attack veterans. Because you make yourself dispicable.

I probably won't even send this to you. Because this isn't about you. You have been demonstrating for years, and I doubt whether one more outraged Christian is going to sway you. This is about me. This is about me choosing the right reasons. Knowing that I'm still a sinner, and that I can't make universal statements, but that I can't just sit by and do nothing.

So I am going to do something. I am going to learn from you. I am going to examine my life, and my actions. And I am going to pray.

Sincerely,
Dale Mundt

Filet o' crap value meal - $3.99

2006-02-18T22:25:00.000-06:00

Dick Cheney's clay pigeon has been released from the hospital. Mr. Whittington's comment: "My family and I are deeply sorry for everything Vice President Cheney and his family have had to deal with." Yes, it's been a rough week for the Cheneys. After all, Vice President Cheney was shot in the face while hunting quail. Wait...umm....

A man from Alexandria, VA has admitted to calling in a bogus terror threat to the Department of Homeland Security. He claimed that Muslim elders had appointed him to notify authorities that an Iraqi national living in Arlington was "planning to go to California in a couple of weeks and do an attack down there." Actually, the guy he accused was dating his ex-girlfriend. See, isn't that romantic? If you want to win her back, buy some flowers, write a poem, and accuse her new flame of terrorism. Isn't there a Frank Sinatra song that starts out like that?

The state of Washington just released its economic figures from the past year. Number eight on the list of agriculturally profitable crops: marijuana. How exactly do they figure that? It's not like you report that on your tax returns.

Lyric of the undefined length of time: I made Satan sell me his soul.

Dick Cheney shot a man in the face-gate

2006-02-16T13:42:00.000-06:00

Ok, I can't help it anymore. I have to post about it.

THE VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SHOT HIS HUNTING PARTNER, A 78 YEAR OLD REPUBLICAN JUDGE, IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

No, wait. I'm sorry. He "peppered him pretty good." IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

And he didn't even tell anybody about it. Somehow he thought it would be better to wait 24 hours and then have the owner of the ranch leak it to a local newspaper. umm, yeah.

Then, his buddy, WHO HE SHOT IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN, had a heart attack as a result of bird shot traveling into his heart.

But wait, he decided to open up to the public and answer the tough questions. Just kidding. Actually he just went on Fox news. And talked about the importance of accuracy. ACCURACY--YOU JUST SHOW SOME DUDE IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN!!!!!! He also said that it was one of the worst days in his life. OH YEAH? WHAT ABOUT THE GUY YOU SHOT IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN???

I have to admit, I am a little biased. I hate Dick Cheney. I think he is the result of a steamy night of passion between Hitler, Satan, and Madame Guillotine. I really don't like him. So I guess I'm really not surprised that HE SHOT A MAN IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

In other issues, I have been thinking about the Danish/Muslim cartoon uproar. And just as I was about to explain what I was thinking, someone said it better. So check out the article here and tell me what you think.

Rasta Josh, may he live forever

2006-02-14T10:08:00.000-06:00

Saturday night was Josh's recital. Holy crap. If you weren't there, you suck. It was amazing. He played one of my favorite pieces ever, Mussgorsky's Pictures at an Exibition, among other things. It was incredible.

As well as rocking the house, Josh looked like a total pimp. A tux, with tails, and striped pants. Dead sexy. But nothing could have prepared the audience for the encore. Josh came out wearing the hat that I bought him in Nassau. Yeah, he rocked the rasta hat.

What boggles my mind is how Josh is able to fend off the ladies. Amazing piano skills, mind boggling powers of thought, unmitigatedly pimping outfits... how can any woman not find that intoxicatingly attractive?

After several days of contemplation, I have finally realized why all of the ladies are not throwing themselves at Josh. They have realized that they are not worthy. They cannot match his absurd level of intelligence. That cannot fathom his mystical levels of musical talent. They feel intimidated at the very thought of being asked to interact with such a giant of giftedness.

Therefore, ladies, if someone ever asks you why you have not offered your love, life, and body to the esteemed 4th Ledgerwood progeny, you need only to say, "I am not worthy." That is the only acceptable excuse. No other will suffice. Not even, "I already have a boyfriend and/or husband." Not unless you precede it with, "I am not worthy, besides..."

Seriously, though, I want to take this opportunity to let Josh know how honored I am to be counted as an equal and a friend. I appreciate his honesty, his careful thought, and his unique take on life. Thank you, Josh.

One for the thumb

2006-02-05T21:02:00.000-06:00

Mike Holmgren, on the sidelines, playing a chessmatch with the opposing sideline, fighting to win the game in the final moments of the Super Bowl...wait, does he know what down it is? Oh, yeah, I'm sorry, that was a different Super Bowl.

I realize this is my second post today, but it has been a pretty busy week. So much has happened that I want to blog about. First of all, you will notice a new sign of the apocalypse. An Italian politician has promised not to have sex until election day. Ummm, yeah. Also from Italy, an atheist has sued a local priest for stating the existence of Christ as a fact. Read the article here and tell me what you think. It is probably worthy of a full post, but I want to hear your thoughts first.

And the new definition of irony: a president with democratically imperialistic goals, achieves democracy in a struggling Arab nation, only to have them democratically elect radical Muslim terrorists as their leaders. Beautiful.

And, in light of last year's halftime wardrobe malfunction, (see: Nipplegate) Super Bowl and ABC officials decided to have the Rolling Stones perform the halftime show. I think that is because Mick Jagger is so old and ugly, even Justin Timberlake wouldn't try to expose his nipple. But then again, how old is Janet Jackson?

And at long last--Fabio has returned. He was in a commercial during the third quarter. I salute you, oh picture of masculinity.

Congrats, Pittsburg.

Du Hast Meche

2006-02-05T19:05:00.000-06:00

I think it would be easier to look at myself in the mirror if God hated me.

I don't listen to music on the radio. Not for any moral reason. I simply think that most of the music played on the radio is crap. It is generally very boring and unimaginative. Cookie cutter songs sang by fluffy little pop stars. I hate it. And generally, when something fresh and unique comes out, I already have been listening to it for 9 months. For example, Fallout Boy, Death Cab for Cutie, the Killers, My Chemical Romance, Hawthorne Heights, Yellowcard, Bowling for Soup, Good Charlotte, Simple Plan... and I could name many more. I had been listening and enjoying them all until they started being played on the radio. Then, they started being overplayed. And everything, absolutely everything is overplayed. If a song is decent, they will play it until the first chord triggers your gag reflex. That is why I depend so much on my iPod. It is my only relief from repetitive, mindless, crappy music.

So imagine my surprise when I heard, on the radio, a song that I hadn't heard before, from a group that I hadn't heard before, that was fresh and unique. My first reaction was embarrassment over the fact that I was slipping. But then I started listening to the song a little closer.

The song is called "Hate Me" and it is by a group called Blue October. The lyrics talk about the singer trying to come to grips with his past relationship. He realizes how horribly he treated her. She was always there, she was always willing to help, and he never appreciated her love. And emotionally, it is tearing him apart. Because he loves her and wants the best for her, but he knows that he has ruined any chance of being able to help her. He will always be the guy that broke her heart. So he says, "... hate me so you can finally see what's good for you..."

This really hit home with me. This song applies to so many of my relationships in the past. And not just with girls--with family, roommates, friends, basically everyone that I have been in contact with. I was emotionally oblivious for so long, and I missed opportunities to help out the people that I cared about. I just went about my life, concerned with my problems, and ignoring all else. I can see now how much I hurt my friends, and I truly wish I could go back and fix the damage I have done. I wish I could undo all of the damage. Erase the emotional complexes that I created. It kills me when I think about it. My ignorance and selfishness have been the cause of so much pain that it makes me echo the request of the singer--hate me. I want them to know that I am sorry and that I care about them, but those are empty words next to the actions of my past. I want them to be doing ok, but I am afraid that trying to go back and make amends will just make it worse. So I just hope they have closure. I hope they have peace. And if it means they need to hate me, so be it.

But then, a voice in the back of my head told me to think about God. How much have we hurt Him? He sent his Son to us, and what did we do? What about all of those times that we have sinned? Each and every time we sin we are breaking God's heart. After all He has done for us, we spit on the sacrifice of Christ because of our own selfishness. What right do we have to expect God to love us? How can we thoughtlessly accept God's love? Why would he love us? To think that God still loves me despite all of the things that I have done--how can I ever accept that? How can I live with myself knowing that God loves me so much, and I have lived oblivious to His love? All of the things that He has done for me, all of His love, and what have I been able to give Him in return?

This isn't necessarily a post about theological truth. This is a post about an emotional epiphany. I have heard about this my whole life, but it never really hit home. And I don't think it has totally hit me yet. It has only started. This wave of emotion comes every time I start thinking about it. It is like the feeling with my friends, but not fully developed yet. This might not make sense to all of you. I don't know if I can explain emotions to those of you who have never really felt. It took a lot for me to learn to feel emotions. Maybe some of you haven't gotten there yet. I don't know. But I do know that I am only beginning to see God's love for me. And that I am only beginning to nourish my love for Him.

STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING!!!!

2006-01-31T02:54:00.000-06:00

It is Black History Month. So drop what you are doing, and only teach Black history. Now don't get me wrong. I agree that our present system does not adequately teach African American history. But giving them a month? That is condescending and ridiculous. Are we going to give Asians a month? Our history curricula almost completely ignores Chinese and Japanese civilizations. Native American history? Native American history is ignored, occasionally on purpose. Nobody wants to talk about how our "great American patriots" attempted genocide on entire nations (see: Andrew Jackson). The solution should lie more in trying to build a more holistic curriculum, not in handing out months. African American history is so integral to the full understanding of the evolution of our culture today, that relegating it to a month is insulting and absurd.

In other news, Alan Greenspan is stepping down today. One of the only people in government to be universally respected, ever. Probably because no one actually understands what he is supposed to do, or how he does it.

I have to sleep, so I am not going to say anything else.

Me-referentially absurd

2006-01-27T11:43:00.000-06:00

Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I have been really busy and the few chances I have had to write, I have been working on a few other things. I have also been thinking about my last post. I have so much more to say, but I'm not really sure how to say it yet. In the mean time, I have been thinking about a few other things, as well. Most prominently, the anti-postmodernism sentiment that is rampant in fundamentalism today.

Maybe I can bring a different perspective to the table. Philosophy, as a general rule, is a study of reactionary thinking. New paradigms and philosophies arise when one worldview becomes unable to support the factual and logical realities of its time. The evolution of ideas drives philosophy the same way that technology and discovery drive science. Therefore, part of the final verdict of any philosophy is the philosophy that follows it. The new philosophy will differ most significantly in the areas of the old philosophy that it rejects.

So, what is the significance? Well, it explains this past Wednesday night service at Calvary. Dr. Oats discussed the Emergent Church. At first, I was extremely offended by his closed-minded approach and "straw man" portrayal of postmodern Christianity. But today, while I was at work, I got to thinking. Isn't that closed-mindedness and competitive self-justification part of the reason why postmodernism exists today? Honestly, what else should I have expected? I may have hoped for a more open-minded or positive portrayal, and maybe if someone had the chance to discuss it with Dr. Oats, he would be able to see it from a more balanced perspective. But in his postion right now, postmodernism seems as foreign and illogical as helio-centric astronomy. And the issues that are most vital to understanding the Emerging Church and postmodernism are the ones that he will take umbrage with first.

What does that practically mean, and how can I avoid continuing this cycle? First of all, I can't trust a philosophy. I can't trust a worldview. Society is constantly changing, and I am constantly changing. My understanding of God, nature, and myself will hopefully always be evolving. So I don't ever want to let myself get too comfortable in any philosophy. Also, it means that I need to carefully examine the areas which my current philosophy fundamentally rejects. I need to ensure that I am not rejecting them simply from a reactionary impulse, but that I am comparing them with scripture so see if they are correct.

May God have mercy on our nation

2006-01-08T02:58:00.000-06:00

I don't even know where to start. I am physically sickened by an article that I read in today's (Saturday's) JournalSentinel. It makes me furious. It makes me sad. It makes me wish I had never attended a Baptist church. It offends me as a Christian. It offends me as a soldier and as a veteran. It offends me as an American. It offends me as a human being.

Members of Westboro Baptist Church, of Topeka, Kansas, have held demonstrations at three funerals of Wisconsin National Guard soldiers killed in Iraq. They hold signs that say, "Thank God for dead soldiers" and "Thank God for IEDs." IED is the military acronym for Improvised Explosive Devices, or roadside bombs. IEDs are probably the greatest threat to soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan. Members of WBC also "celebrated the deaths of the 12 West Virginia miners" this week. Celebrated. The article also quotes one of the protesters as saying "(God's) weapon of choice is the IED, so our forum of choice must be these soldiers' funerals." On their website, they have posted what is apparently a church bulletin/newsletter or possibly a press release. Quote, "Thank God for dead soldiers and dead vets." "Pray for more American bodies blown to smithereens by cheap home made Iraqi IEDs". And don't think that they were silent about hurricane Katrina. "Pray for more dead bodies floating on the fag-semen-rancid waters of New Orleans."

The message of this church is that America has "bought into the lie that it's ok to be gay", and that terrorism and recent natural disasters, including but not limited to Hurrican Katrina, the droughts in Oklahoma and Texas, and the mine accident in West Virginia are God's way of punishing a country of "fags" and "fag enablers". On a message statement on their website, www.godhatesfags.com, it says, "This (the war in Iraq) is the means by which God is punishing America, and nothing is going to change that fact. We're going to stay on message no matter how many talking heads churn up new ideas, polls, strategies, theories, and so forth. You don't define us; our duty to God does. Whether it's by hurricane, IED, terrorists, or other means, God is punishing this nation. He has become an active enemy fighting against America. That is our message, and we will apply the scriptures like workmen who needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth, giving it timely, topical, relevant, effective, notorious application." Their "gospel" message: "1. Repent or Perish - Any nation that condones, promotes, or protects homosexuality will be utterly destroyed by God. 2. All nations must immediately pass and enforce laws that make sodomy a CAPITAL CRIME- punishable by DEATH! This would be proof of genuine repentance! 3. All nations must cease and desist the making of laws threatening God's preachers with prison for denouncing sodomite sins." (Emphasis not mine.) Points 2 and 3, along with almost everything on the website, are accompanied by Bible references. At one point the website claims that it "is a sin not to rejoice when God executes His wrath and vengeance upon America", and that "it is a sin to pray for the good of this evil fag nation."

I am at a loss. I no longer know what I can say. I don't know how to express the pain and disgust and sadness I am feeling right now.

One of the saddest parts of their website, to me, is a video of their demonstration at the funeral of Sgt. Andrew Wallace, the demonstration that garnered the attention of the Milwaukee JournalSentinel. It is video allegedly showing how their Constitutional rights to free speech were violated by Dodge county Sheriff Todd Nehls, who allegedly punched one of the protesters. I watched the video twice, and it does not show any actual violence done by the sheriff. It also clearly shows that the officer was doing his best to keep the situation in control and staying within his rights as a law enforcement officer. But what was sad to me was that they had children with them. The video clearly shows two boys, between the ages of 5 and 9. One was dragging a flag and holding a sign that says, "Thank God for Dead Soldiers."

I still don't know what to say. Part of me wants to write a journalistic condemnation of this organization. Part of me wants to write a Biblical rebuttal to their false gospel. Part of me wants to analyze their logic and compare it to logic used in circles that I live in, but none of these articles that I want to write could express the emotion that is threatening to burst out of my veins. I want to cry, I want to vomit, I want to scream. I want the world to know that this isn't God. I want the world to know that these people are no more followers of Christ than the Branch Davidians. I want the world to know that, when He was on this earth, Christ went out of His way to reach out to those attacked and marginalized by the religious elite. He went through Samaria, and He told the Pharisees that only those without sin could cast stones. The people He ate with were hookers, lowlives, and poor people. I want the world to know that I have acquaintances and coworkers that are homosexual, and I have never been more ashamed of our nation and culture as when I was at this website. I want to beg for their forgiveness. I want to tell homosexuals in the military that I admire their courage and dedication to our country. I admire that they would join the military to serve in defense of our nation, despite the fact that they knew there would be endless abuse and harrassment. I am proud to serve beside them.

I want to be part of a culture that doesn't use religion as a weapon. As a tool to promote their own bigotries and predjudices. I want to be a part of a culture of respect and honor. And I want to be part of a world where this doesn't happen.

...another one bites the dust...

2006-01-06T02:42:00.000-06:00

Well, another year gone. I don't really have anything else to say about that.

This is the first time I have posted since my wedding. So, to fill you guys in, wedding went pretty good, we went to Florida and the Bahamas and had lots of...fun. Then we came back to Clyman, got our digital cable, and I went back to work. Did the New Years Eve thing with friends. yadda, yadda.

Digital cable. Such a beautiful thing. The ironic thing is that, even with more than 200 channels, there still isn't anything to watch. It is all still crap. But it does give an opportunity to watch programming that was never meant to be broadcast. There are all these weird subculture shows. Like an entire network dedicated to game shows. Or soap operas.

But my personal favorite of the bizarre subculture shows is called Madden Nation. It is all about a bunch of guys who are in this tournament for people who play the Madden videogames. They travel around the country on a bus, playing tournaments every couple days. And if you lose a tournament you have to leave the bus and therefore lose the chance to win it all and get the money. It is funny because these guys are so serious about the game. They even talk about their strategy during timeouts to the camera. It is really funny. The one guy will say, "I'm going to roll Vick out to the right, and if he's in a zone I'll throw to the tight end, and if he's in man coverage, I'm going deep to the wide-out." Then it will go to the other guy, and he'll say, "I'm going to bring the blitz with both outside linebackers and run a tackle-tackle stunt." I don't think they realize it's just a video game. Itis like they are living vicariously through the playstation. Don't get me wrong--I love Madden. I love video games. But it is still pretty funny.

Anyways, not much else to say. Here's some good information to keep in mind this new year.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.

Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.

Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris invented the beard. He receives several million dollars in annual royalties from Santa Claus, Richard Dreyfuss, and Chewbacca.

Chuck Norris invented babies because he got tired of eating the same old thing.

We are all but figments of Chuck Norris's imagination.

Extra Innings

2005-12-12T22:03:00.000-06:00

So, wow. There's been a lot of action on my Spotlight Stage Left post. Because of computer/internet issues, I wasn't able to join the conversation the way I wanted, so maybe we can bring it back and I can maybe clarify a few things, and maybe take it a step further.

First, maybe the spotlight/stage analogy wasn't perfect. Ok, maybe it sucked. I have been thinking more about it, and I guess the point is that all of those names of God reflect more on His people than on God Himself. God is everything. He can meet any need and fill any void. That is truly who He is. We cannot define God, and we can only describe small aspects of Him that become evident to us through the Bible and our experiences. And, Justin, while I totally understand what you are trying to say when you say not to only allow God to be bigger than the failures we experience, really all of these names of God are based on inadequacies. The children of Israel knew that God provides because they had experienced want. David knew that God was his Shepherd because he had been directionless. So really, our experiential knowledge of God is inherently based on shortcomings in our life, whether we are the "shortcomer" or the victim of the shortcoming. Having said that, obviously our knowledge of God is not only experiential. That's almost what we were talking about in the first place. If we limit God only to what we have experienced, we are no better than limiting Him to what the children of Israel experienced.

And now, even further out of the box. What other areas of our Christian life are we doing this to? What about the church? It is described as the bride of Christ, the flock of Christ, and the body of Christ. Now each of those names describe different aspects of the relationship between Christ and the church, but do they define the relationship? What other areas in our Christian life are we letting metaphors and descriptions define the limits of God?

It's not a side effect of the cocaine

2005-12-11T19:16:00.000-06:00

Hey,

Sorry I haven't posted in the last week. I have been having computer issues as well as not having internet at my Clyman house yet. I will probably post again tonight, but for now I want to mention some stuff that I have been thinking about during the week.

So, I am getting married this Saturday. I really hadn't been having any issues with commitment or anything, (which should surprise those of you that knew me before Jess) and I really wasn't experiencing too many pre-wedding jitters. I kinda got hit earlier this week though. I was talking to a guy at work, and he was asking me if all the planning stuff was going good. I mentioned that we were taking care of a few issues that had come up, but that the stress was more on Jess than me. Besides, I said, all I have to do is wear a tux and show up. And then it hit me. This is huge. This is a monumentally important day in my life. And I don't know if I'm ready.

So as I kept thinking about it, I realized that no matter what I did, or how long I waited, I would never be ready. Nothing could ever prepare me for this. I wonder if this is the way everybody feels before they get married. But what if this is supposed to be how I'm feeling? What if this is to teach me something? What if this is how God wants me to approach my relationship with Him? Stepping out even though I don't know exactly where I am going, simply because I know that I can't remain where I'm at? Maybe that is one of the things that God meant when He designed marriage to be a symbol of Christ's relationship with the church. Let me know what you think.

Spotlight Stage Left

2005-12-04T18:38:00.000-06:00

This morning in church, the sermon was on the third commandment, the one about taking the Lord's name in vain. Sometime during the first few minutes, Pastor mentioned how God has many different names in the Bible. That sent me off on a mental tangent that occupied me for most of the sermon. I was wondering, what if all of the different names of God are less in reference to the characteristics of God and more about how a particular group of people at a particular time related to God. While I am sure that all of the particular characteristics about God are true, is that what we should really be concerned with? Maybe Jehovah Jireh isn't in the Bible just so we know that God can provide--maybe it is there to describe the emotional duress that His people were under at that specific time. Maybe we have been pointing the spotlight at stage left when the meaningful action was taking place on the right next to the curtains.

So the question that left me with was, if the diferent names of God reflect the struggles of His people, what kind of name would God have if I was in the Bible? Would it be God that Forgives? God that Doesn't Stab You In The Back? God that is Always There? God that Doesn't Stereotype? God that is Not Hypocritical? Or God that Cuts Through the Crap? What would your name for God be?

Forgiveness and purple toothbrushes

2005-11-29T12:28:00.000-06:00

Relationships are about trust. Without trust, there can be no relationship. When that trust is broken, it takes time to mend. I am in that process right now.

I moved to Clyman a few months ago. Before I moved in, there had been some plumbing problems and flood damage. As a result, the kitchen was newly remodeled and some work had been done to the bathroom. I was excited to be finally living in my own place. After 22 years of my parent's house, dorms, and barracks, I finally was renting my own place. But alas--there were dark clouds over paradise.

My toilet didn't flush right. If you were only there for number one, everything was fine. Number two, however... well, let's just not talk about it. I was heartbroken. There is a sacred bond between a man and his toilet. Like I said, relationships are all about trust. The toilet trusts me-- that I will not overfill it, that I will use a reasonable amount of toilet paper, and that I will keep it clean. And in return, I put my trust in the toilet--that when I deposit a reasonable amount in it, that it will take it away and ensure a clean and fresh smelling bathroom. That trust had been broken. One does not lightly concede such a valued friendship. Three times I called the landlord, and still the same issue.

But finally, a light appeared at the end of my irregular tunnel. My uncle, Al Shoup--a professional plumber, came riding into Clyman upon his white steed. (Actually, it was a Ford van, but just bear with me.) To the house, up the stairs, and into the bathroom he came, not stopping until he had retrieved a purple toothbrush from the soft underbelly of my plumbing.

So today's story has a happy ending. And as my toilet and I try to put back the shattered pieces of our lives, one bowel movement at a time, there is a lesson in this story for all of us. Do not betray your loved one's trust, be patient and willing to forgive when your trust is betrayed, and beware of purple toothbrushes.

Happy Spanksgiving!!

2005-11-27T15:49:00.000-06:00

As my Packers continue their race with the Texans for Reggie Bush, I thought I would remind you all that I'm not dead.

First of all, a belated Happy Spanksgiving to everybody.

Friday's USA Today had some stuff I wanted to talk about, but I don't have the paper with me right now, so I'll wait to post that stuff.

This morning, Pastor preached on the second commandment. He talked about how the first commandment is to prevent polytheism. The second commandment is more concerning the way you worship. The second commandment was dealing specifically with a golden calf situation. The graven images weren't necessarily about other gods. The graven images were simply human representations of Jehovah. The implications of this commandment were and still are enormous. God didn't want His people to need some earthy representation of Him. He didn't want them to be able to just depend on something tangible or comfortable. He wanted their worship to be purely about Him. Now, what does that mean to us today? How much of our worship is purely about God? And how much of our worship is about today's modern 'graven images?' What do you think today's graven images are? It strikes me that it is possible that a great deal of what we do to "worship" is really just man's representation of God.

Tell me what you think.

More about me

2005-11-23T00:59:00.000-06:00

My profile says Madison/Milwaukee. This is because I hate the bumblehick area in which I now reside (which lies directly between Milwaukee and Madison). I grew up in Milwaukee, and hopefully will be living in Madison by this time next year.

I dabble in history, literature, music, and philosophy. Generally, I like being relatively well-versed culturally. A goal of mine is to be able to discuss equally existentialism, the writings of Dante, and Led Zepplin.

I am a Christian. I was raised a fundamentalist Baptist, but I'm not really sure what I am now. I think I am more of a postmodernist non-denominational, but I'm not sure. I've been reading a lot lately, and stuff is starting to make sense now that I am looking at it differently.

I am getting married to Jessica Van Hall on December 17. I am pretty excited about it. Our wedding is going to be really cool. But that is because I am cooler than you.

I am a big Packers, Bucks, Brewers, and Badgers fan. Yes, some of my teams suck. Screw you.

I am starting this blog for a few reasons. First, because I am bored. Second, because I need to make myself put my thoughts down in writing somehow. Third, because I hope that it will provide a forum for discussing postmodernism as it relates to Christianity. So hopefully, some of the posts on this blog will represent serious discussion, some creative outlet, and some just random crap to fill my day.

Love, peace, and chicken grease

Hello imbeciles

2005-11-22T18:40:00.000-06:00

hey-this is my blog. don't wear it out