(Halt, movie spoilers)
Okay so you read my title, I am sure it drew you in, your thinking, what are these two movies? Well the first, I ended up seeing because "The 300" was sold out, was "Wild Hogs." After the movie all I could say was Wunderbar!!!! Four men stand against fifty bikers to reclaim their honor, it is on the field of batter their true selves.
The second movie I went to see on a Saturday afternoon, cause it was sold out friday, was "The 300." Leaving the the theater I was clapping my hands saying "bella bella," I mean what else is there 300 men stand against millions, and Esther's Husband, on the field of battle where they reclaim their honor (or something), but the true gift was that on the field of battle they found their true selves.
Both movies not only inspire those in the movies themselves to do greater things IE... a large Spartan Army, and the Town of Madirid standing against the Del Fuegos, but they inspire all the watchers to do the same as. One uses Comedy the other blood, and blood, and did I mention blood.
I give both movies a thumbs up, you know what that means, two thumbs... standing at attention ready to look the world in the eye and say, "sure we're just a set of thumbs but we're gonna kick your ass."
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
A few things I like
In no particular order but numbered for your convenience
1. Hot Oatmeal on a Cold day
2. New Castle after it has just started getting warm
3. Finally beating Freeza in DBZ Buddakai
4. Christian Imagry
5. Esoteric things, with a history (for example, I collect records)
6. A fast and perfect lindy swingout with a good follow
7. Bach played from an LP while I journal and drink coffee early in the morning
8. Female Jazz/Blues Singers
9. My balcony, my pipe, slow Jazz, and a warm breeze
10. A Hug from someone who cares and someone I care about
11. Cheese Fries from Huey's (on Madison)
12. Midtown (is Memphis)
13. Pizza and wine while watching Gilmore Girls
14. Classical Guitar
15. Liturgical Singing
16 on the list, 1 in my heart... Grandma's Front Porch Swing, especially after a morning of work with Grandad.
This was just something I thought of this morning.
1. Hot Oatmeal on a Cold day
2. New Castle after it has just started getting warm
3. Finally beating Freeza in DBZ Buddakai
4. Christian Imagry
5. Esoteric things, with a history (for example, I collect records)
6. A fast and perfect lindy swingout with a good follow
7. Bach played from an LP while I journal and drink coffee early in the morning
8. Female Jazz/Blues Singers
9. My balcony, my pipe, slow Jazz, and a warm breeze
10. A Hug from someone who cares and someone I care about
11. Cheese Fries from Huey's (on Madison)
12. Midtown (is Memphis)
13. Pizza and wine while watching Gilmore Girls
14. Classical Guitar
15. Liturgical Singing
16 on the list, 1 in my heart... Grandma's Front Porch Swing, especially after a morning of work with Grandad.
This was just something I thought of this morning.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Creek pronounced crick
One of the other major memories of aquatic bodies is the creek, pronounced crick. I understand the creed differently than the river, let me explain. As a child many of my happiest memories came from the time I spent at my grandmother and grandfather’s house a few miles down Peter’s Run Road in Tridelphia West Virginia. I remember I would always anticipate the drive and even break down the various sections of the drive. It was close to a thirty-minute drive but my strongest feelings associate to the last five minutes.
From the main road we would turn left onto Peters Run Road. For three miles we would follow a creek on the right. As I would drive I would see the hill and vegetation on the left, and a series of bridges on the right. We would pass "Ye Ol’ Country Church" on the left then a hill with a series of steps for drainage (this road was prone to mudslides). As we pulled toward my grandfather’s bridge I would begin to get a deep anticipation. The bridge was small and some would say it was a little nerve racking to drive over yet it was a strong bridge.
I remember as a child putting my hands in the creek and feeling the cool water run across them. Many Creeks in West Virginia had turned orange from the coal mines, my grandfather’s was not one of them. We were never allowed to walk in them barefoot because people had the tendency to throw bottles from their cars into the Creek. I didn’t need to walk barefoot, Sometimes I would enjoy just standing on the bridge and looking down.
In the summers on some Saturday morning’s my father and I would go and drop a minnow trap. Grandfather’s Creek fueled my ability to go fishing. The minnows would swim in the trap and not be able to swim out. As I got older friends and I would go to this place and drop the trap ourselves, sometimes we would just use a sane, at that age we were old enough just to go into the creek in our shoes, unless we could get a hold of some waders. I remember feeling the cold water rush against the waders… it was calming.
The drive filled me with anticipation. It was a different anticipation from descending into the river. The later was an anticipation of rebellion, and the joy that comes with freedom and the ability to keep from being chained. Grandfather’s house was utopia. At my grandparents house I had no desire to break the rules, actually I was filled with a desire for just the opposite. At my grandparent’s house I wanted to act well (this is not to say my brother and I didn’t get into our own stuff there). I would never sneak down to the creek when I wasn’t allowed, and I didn’t get into things I wasn’t supposed to. I was trying to be anything, I just had no desire to have my grandparents view me unfavorably.
As I got older I would help my grandfather tend to his yard and sometimes his garden. After a morning of hard work I would join them for lunch and then we would sit on the front porch, Grandma and I in the swing, Granddad on a wicker rocking chair. I once preached a sermon called, "A Glass of Iced Tea and a Front Porch Swing." To me this picture was heaven. I had no where to run to, and nothing to run from, I was safe behind the Creek, suckling at the bosom of the hills around us.
It was a different kind of freedom from the river. The river involved chaos, crossing the Creek involved peace. Cosmologically the Creek is at the opposite end of the river. The river was a place to descend into, a place where chaos ensued and we allowed ourselves to be swept into chaos, the Creek though it was calm like the words of the song, "Ripple in still water, where there is not pebble tossed, no wind to blow." The ripple in these waters came from the hand of God himself, an angel that came and stirred the water once a day.
We looked out across the big Pine, across the river to the road where cars and trucks would go to and fro busy with life. We would watch life from the outside I liken it to Lazarus looking at the rich man. He could see, but he was not there.
Memories fill my mind of the old horse swing that hung under the pine, in the summers. I remember the snow on the hill in front of and behind, being driven out on a snow day from school, Granddad getting out his old runner sled, and then letting loose. From the hill we would leave with a "swoosh," toward the Creek, we would see how close we could get, yet we could never make it in. That was fine though, the winter was not a good time to feel the cool water of the Creek.
Across the Creek we were free, but it was a different freedom. The deer would be down in the winter by the dozens, the turkey in the summer by the hundreds. The garden, full of green beans and corn in the summer, in the winter the snow like a blanket allowing the land to sleep. Across the Creek was hope, the anticipation of the drive reminding me of what is to come. Across the Creek… maybe I could say heaven, but it seems more like Eden. A body reborn, casting off the fallen nature, resurrection in its best form.
From the main road we would turn left onto Peters Run Road. For three miles we would follow a creek on the right. As I would drive I would see the hill and vegetation on the left, and a series of bridges on the right. We would pass "Ye Ol’ Country Church" on the left then a hill with a series of steps for drainage (this road was prone to mudslides). As we pulled toward my grandfather’s bridge I would begin to get a deep anticipation. The bridge was small and some would say it was a little nerve racking to drive over yet it was a strong bridge.
I remember as a child putting my hands in the creek and feeling the cool water run across them. Many Creeks in West Virginia had turned orange from the coal mines, my grandfather’s was not one of them. We were never allowed to walk in them barefoot because people had the tendency to throw bottles from their cars into the Creek. I didn’t need to walk barefoot, Sometimes I would enjoy just standing on the bridge and looking down.
In the summers on some Saturday morning’s my father and I would go and drop a minnow trap. Grandfather’s Creek fueled my ability to go fishing. The minnows would swim in the trap and not be able to swim out. As I got older friends and I would go to this place and drop the trap ourselves, sometimes we would just use a sane, at that age we were old enough just to go into the creek in our shoes, unless we could get a hold of some waders. I remember feeling the cold water rush against the waders… it was calming.
The drive filled me with anticipation. It was a different anticipation from descending into the river. The later was an anticipation of rebellion, and the joy that comes with freedom and the ability to keep from being chained. Grandfather’s house was utopia. At my grandparents house I had no desire to break the rules, actually I was filled with a desire for just the opposite. At my grandparent’s house I wanted to act well (this is not to say my brother and I didn’t get into our own stuff there). I would never sneak down to the creek when I wasn’t allowed, and I didn’t get into things I wasn’t supposed to. I was trying to be anything, I just had no desire to have my grandparents view me unfavorably.
As I got older I would help my grandfather tend to his yard and sometimes his garden. After a morning of hard work I would join them for lunch and then we would sit on the front porch, Grandma and I in the swing, Granddad on a wicker rocking chair. I once preached a sermon called, "A Glass of Iced Tea and a Front Porch Swing." To me this picture was heaven. I had no where to run to, and nothing to run from, I was safe behind the Creek, suckling at the bosom of the hills around us.
It was a different kind of freedom from the river. The river involved chaos, crossing the Creek involved peace. Cosmologically the Creek is at the opposite end of the river. The river was a place to descend into, a place where chaos ensued and we allowed ourselves to be swept into chaos, the Creek though it was calm like the words of the song, "Ripple in still water, where there is not pebble tossed, no wind to blow." The ripple in these waters came from the hand of God himself, an angel that came and stirred the water once a day.
We looked out across the big Pine, across the river to the road where cars and trucks would go to and fro busy with life. We would watch life from the outside I liken it to Lazarus looking at the rich man. He could see, but he was not there.
Memories fill my mind of the old horse swing that hung under the pine, in the summers. I remember the snow on the hill in front of and behind, being driven out on a snow day from school, Granddad getting out his old runner sled, and then letting loose. From the hill we would leave with a "swoosh," toward the Creek, we would see how close we could get, yet we could never make it in. That was fine though, the winter was not a good time to feel the cool water of the Creek.
Across the Creek we were free, but it was a different freedom. The deer would be down in the winter by the dozens, the turkey in the summer by the hundreds. The garden, full of green beans and corn in the summer, in the winter the snow like a blanket allowing the land to sleep. Across the Creek was hope, the anticipation of the drive reminding me of what is to come. Across the Creek… maybe I could say heaven, but it seems more like Eden. A body reborn, casting off the fallen nature, resurrection in its best form.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
I woke up dead this morning
I woke up dead this morning
Not another drop to drink
I woke up dead this morning
The wine and beer extinct
I woke up dead this morning
The angel waved goodbye
I woke up dead this morning
From hanging my head to cry
I woke up dead this morning
Where’d the time all go
I woke up dead this morning
So many things I’d never know
I woke up dead this morning
The remnants of a hug
I woke up dead this morning
I left the song unsung
I woke up dead this morning
My sickle left at home
I woke up dead this morning
I can’t believe he’s gone
I woke up dead this morning
I couldn’t take the fight
I woke up dead this morning
Because you didn’t wake up last night
By Justin
In memory of Waide Messer, a chaplain, a friend... We didn't just pass in the night.
Not another drop to drink
I woke up dead this morning
The wine and beer extinct
I woke up dead this morning
The angel waved goodbye
I woke up dead this morning
From hanging my head to cry
I woke up dead this morning
Where’d the time all go
I woke up dead this morning
So many things I’d never know
I woke up dead this morning
The remnants of a hug
I woke up dead this morning
I left the song unsung
I woke up dead this morning
My sickle left at home
I woke up dead this morning
I can’t believe he’s gone
I woke up dead this morning
I couldn’t take the fight
I woke up dead this morning
Because you didn’t wake up last night
By Justin
In memory of Waide Messer, a chaplain, a friend... We didn't just pass in the night.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Down to the River to pray
I have been reading "Memories Dreams and Reflections," basically Jung’s autobiography. Reading through it has been interesting even just into the second chapter. Reading the memories and dreams that were important to Jung are astounding. He talks about smelling for the first time, seeing the Alps in the distance for the first time, and seeing the stars for the first time. He discussed his awareness of the world around him and his understanding of it, even down to 3 years old.
If I were to think along these lines I would have to talk about growing up on the Ohio River. I don’t know if any of you ever grew up around water, there is something interesting growing up near water. Even though highly polluted the water from the Ohio is what I would drink, after a lot of filtering, and as a young child I was not allowed near the river itself, because of the undertow. I was told as a child that the direction of the water under the surface did not have to match the direction on the surface, that currents ran through the river all different directions, not just south. I imagined a river within a river flowing a different direction, I imagined fish passing each other going different directions, but just swimming, though I could imagine some animals talking, I have never much imagined fish that way, they were just fish.
I image that is partially because I don’t hunt but I do fish. I couldn’t kill a squirrel, a deer, or a black bear, I could imagine them with a voice but fish, they had no voice. That isn’t to say I kept any of them I caught them in the ol Ohio and nothing that came out of the Ohio was safe to eat. I think that is part of the majesty of the river, so powerful so dangerous with its undertows and poisons. I wasn’t allowed near the river as a child, so it isn’t strange that every day in the summers I was there.
You see, the river was cut into a valley, we had to descend to the river. I remember as a child my first time fishing, or at least as I remember was at the Dam. The Dam was itself a monster, maybe not a monster but a harness. Like the bridle of a horse the dam controlled the direction of the river. I have imagined canoeing from my house to my friend’s house in St. Mary’s. I think it would be a fun trip and I would have to survive the local dams along the way. It was an hour and a half drive how long of a canoe would it be? Maybe someday I will.
I think the most astounding thing about the dam was the echo. I recall my brother and I learning our voice hearing for the first time our own echo. The question came, "Dad, who’s yelling back." Dad explained the echo. I always looked forward to the dam because of the echo.
Descending toward the river was always a positive thing to me. Being close to the river and going through what I needed to just to be close. The river in one sense was my father and mother, in one way it was a river. To descend toward the dam I had to be sure footed (as my zodiac says I am) because the dike that had been built was walled by rocks some limestone some granite, some that were sharp some that were smooth, but all that were dangerous. It would be easy to slip and fall, rolling down the bank, but worst of all, spilling my tackle box. I have fallen many times but have never spilled my tackle box.
My old gang hung out by the river, every day we went down to pray. To which God’s I cannot be sure, but we did pray. With every drag from a cigarette every word we couldn’t say in front of our parents, we were baptized by the river. It was that baptism that symbolized freedom for me maybe even us. We named our places, they were like temples to us, temples with simple names: the hill, the rope, the rock bar, the beach, the dam, the rope swing, these were the places we would "hang" these were the places we would worship. For what is worship to a child truly but that chance to be, even if in farce, an adult?
That isn’t to say some had more dominion than others did, I was not the head of this priesthood, but a simple worshiper at the temple. Justice was like the river, swift and harsh. Not entirely physically but emotionally. It was at the river we learned to reduce one another to tears with words, it was at the river that we sacrificed our own scapegoats. We all played each roll; we each took a place as high priest, worshipper, or scapegoat. We had our own code, it was never written, but it was thorough and clear.
At our homes we lived under our parents, at the river we were free. My feeling climbing out was always different it was sadder, it was lower. Yet I was a surefooted Capricorn, and I could always survive away from my temple, away from the holy mother, the great river.
If I were to think along these lines I would have to talk about growing up on the Ohio River. I don’t know if any of you ever grew up around water, there is something interesting growing up near water. Even though highly polluted the water from the Ohio is what I would drink, after a lot of filtering, and as a young child I was not allowed near the river itself, because of the undertow. I was told as a child that the direction of the water under the surface did not have to match the direction on the surface, that currents ran through the river all different directions, not just south. I imagined a river within a river flowing a different direction, I imagined fish passing each other going different directions, but just swimming, though I could imagine some animals talking, I have never much imagined fish that way, they were just fish.
I image that is partially because I don’t hunt but I do fish. I couldn’t kill a squirrel, a deer, or a black bear, I could imagine them with a voice but fish, they had no voice. That isn’t to say I kept any of them I caught them in the ol Ohio and nothing that came out of the Ohio was safe to eat. I think that is part of the majesty of the river, so powerful so dangerous with its undertows and poisons. I wasn’t allowed near the river as a child, so it isn’t strange that every day in the summers I was there.
You see, the river was cut into a valley, we had to descend to the river. I remember as a child my first time fishing, or at least as I remember was at the Dam. The Dam was itself a monster, maybe not a monster but a harness. Like the bridle of a horse the dam controlled the direction of the river. I have imagined canoeing from my house to my friend’s house in St. Mary’s. I think it would be a fun trip and I would have to survive the local dams along the way. It was an hour and a half drive how long of a canoe would it be? Maybe someday I will.
I think the most astounding thing about the dam was the echo. I recall my brother and I learning our voice hearing for the first time our own echo. The question came, "Dad, who’s yelling back." Dad explained the echo. I always looked forward to the dam because of the echo.
Descending toward the river was always a positive thing to me. Being close to the river and going through what I needed to just to be close. The river in one sense was my father and mother, in one way it was a river. To descend toward the dam I had to be sure footed (as my zodiac says I am) because the dike that had been built was walled by rocks some limestone some granite, some that were sharp some that were smooth, but all that were dangerous. It would be easy to slip and fall, rolling down the bank, but worst of all, spilling my tackle box. I have fallen many times but have never spilled my tackle box.
My old gang hung out by the river, every day we went down to pray. To which God’s I cannot be sure, but we did pray. With every drag from a cigarette every word we couldn’t say in front of our parents, we were baptized by the river. It was that baptism that symbolized freedom for me maybe even us. We named our places, they were like temples to us, temples with simple names: the hill, the rope, the rock bar, the beach, the dam, the rope swing, these were the places we would "hang" these were the places we would worship. For what is worship to a child truly but that chance to be, even if in farce, an adult?
That isn’t to say some had more dominion than others did, I was not the head of this priesthood, but a simple worshiper at the temple. Justice was like the river, swift and harsh. Not entirely physically but emotionally. It was at the river we learned to reduce one another to tears with words, it was at the river that we sacrificed our own scapegoats. We all played each roll; we each took a place as high priest, worshipper, or scapegoat. We had our own code, it was never written, but it was thorough and clear.
At our homes we lived under our parents, at the river we were free. My feeling climbing out was always different it was sadder, it was lower. Yet I was a surefooted Capricorn, and I could always survive away from my temple, away from the holy mother, the great river.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
"Playing the Whore"
Playing the whore in Ezekiel
At first I thought this would be a letter about sexual behavior between… well everybody, but that is only a part, and oddly enough doesn’t seem like the biggest part.
First off God is punishing partially because of his own reputation, his daughters should have been reared in his law and should know it, this doesn’t seem to be the case.
13But the house of Israel rebelled against me in the wilderness. They did not walk in my statutes but rejected my rules, by which, if a person does them, he shall live; and my Sabbaths they greatly profaned.
"Then I said I would pour out my wrath upon them in the wilderness, to make a full end of them. 14But I acted for the sake of my name, that it should not be profaned in the sight of the nations, in whose sight I had brought them out. –Ezekiel 20: 13-14
This is a statement relates to his people in the wilderness God wants them to remember their stories, remember their history.
I like chapter 22 it seems like at the core of treating God right is treating each other well. Being honorable to God is being honorable to his creation. (this is not to discount the idolatry) There is a nice little sentence here and many throughout the beginning of the book about how we are supposed to treat aliens in the land. Extorting them is a major issue. What is the extortion talked about here, it is a sin called usury, and Ezekiel will talk about it later. Dealing with aliens in the land is a very important theme throughout the prophets, see Amos as well. The Israelites were originally aliens in a strange land, not only was Abraham asked to go somewhere new, but Israel existed as a people group in Egypt as aliens. Ezekiel places this as one of their great sins, mistreating immigrants. How do we treat our immigrants? I like that this passage doesn’t make the distinction between legal and illegal. What do we say about them?
6"Behold, the princes of Israel in you, every one according to his power, have been bent on shedding blood. 7Father and mother are treated with contempt in you; the sojourner suffers extortion in your midst; the fatherless and the widow are wronged in you. 8You have despised my holy things and profaned my Sabbaths. 9There are men in you who slander to shed blood, and people in you who eat on the mountains; they commit lewdness in your midst. 10In you men uncover their fathers' nakedness; in you they violate women who are unclean in their menstrual impurity. 11One commits abomination with his neighbor's wife; another lewdly defiles his daughter-in-law; another in you violates his sister, his father's daughter. 12In you they take bribes to shed blood; you take interest and profit and make gain of your neighbors by extortion; but me you have forgotten, declares the Lord GOD. –Ezekiel 22:6-12
Mistreatment of our elders. Mother and father treated with contempt. I wonder the extent of this. They were commanded in the decalogue to honor Mom and Dad. We live in a world where the elderly are shifted to nursing homes and ignored, not by everybody but it is something that cannot be ignored. Talk to your local DHS get the low down on the local nursing homes, go to nursing homes and find out when people are visited. This commandment is not just for children but it is for anyone with parents. We learn to treat our parents as we saw them treat theirs.
Shedding blood. People are being paid to do it, people are being dishonest so they can do it. I live in a city that has the second highest rate of violent crime in a country that wants to increase its military so it can send more troops to die. God seems a little unclear about the shedding of blood in some places, you know the commanding of the Israelites to slaughter entire villages in Joshua and the Judges. God seemed pretty clear though at mandating when fighting was necessary. But maybe I shouldn’t put this passage to war I should just put it on one on one treatment of each other.
Ritual prostitution, sex as worship, finally we have gotten to some sex. The sex Ezekiel brings up is used for direct worship of other God’s. However, this isn’t all of what it means to "play the whore" it seems like the other piece on sexuality seems to be inappropriate relationships within the family system, and more specifically the step family system Ezekiel never talks about sex before marriage, divorce and remarriage, or even visiting prostitutes. I know these things get covered later in the New Testament but it is funny to me, playing the whore doesn’t have to do with as much sexual sin as it could.
The next piece is my favorite when it comes to high interest rates and whom we apply them to. This time it isn’t just to the immigrant society but to their own people. I wonder if they got 3 or 4 high interest credit card offers in the mail, of course they start low but then get much higher shortly after. Ezekiel seems to be very clear on this, using interesting to make prophet is wrong. I think I might send that to my creditors.
So what is "Playing the Whore?"
- Mistreating the immigrant population
- Mistreating parents
- Murder, unlawful shedding of blood (in some places the clergy are critiqued for this)
- Inappropriate sex, meaning, relatives, neighbors, and ritual prostitutes.
- Usury, the art of making profit from others misfortune.
It is interesting to my personal self and my country to this list. We don’t have shrine prostitution anymore, but there are many other ways to be idolatrous. How do we as a country treat our immigrants, parents, each other in relation to life, sexually, and financially? Are we good to one another, fair and upright in all our dealings, honest? I just don’t know. I don’t think that we should read Ezekiel’s message and translate the doom to our nation, but I think we should read his message and get at the heart of God, what does he really want? Hell I don’t always know, but I know there are some things that aren’t negotiable. This list is a good start. And what is funny is that it isn’t like it is a strict list. These things seem common sense to me, we treat people like humans. Do we even do that?
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
One of those things
You ever have that friend who lets you know in advance that his or her birthday is comming up. Like a month in advance they start just radomly placing it in conversation and then as it gets closer and closer they are shameless about it and just start telling you they accept gift cards and personal checks.
Well I am that friend
I was born in Wheeling West Virginia at 2:10 AM (eastern standard) on January the 18th in 1979, and I accept gift cards and personal checks.
God Bless
Justin
Well I am that friend
I was born in Wheeling West Virginia at 2:10 AM (eastern standard) on January the 18th in 1979, and I accept gift cards and personal checks.
God Bless
Justin
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Its about time
I have come to a very important decsion in my life and I think the blogging community needs to know about. It is theological, philisophical, and an all around good decsion. I have chosen a theme song.
I know, you have been waiting for years for me to make a final decision. I thought long and hard about this for years. I have gone over many different songs many different bands, but it took forever for that one to arise and beat out all the other songs. You ready for it?
You sure?
This gonna blow your mind. To me this song is not just a good description of me but also a ministry statement.
Well no sense in making you wait longer.
Justin Timberlake: Sexy Back
I know, you have been waiting for years for me to make a final decision. I thought long and hard about this for years. I have gone over many different songs many different bands, but it took forever for that one to arise and beat out all the other songs. You ready for it?
You sure?
This gonna blow your mind. To me this song is not just a good description of me but also a ministry statement.
Well no sense in making you wait longer.
Justin Timberlake: Sexy Back
Monday, December 18, 2006
Wine, Women, and wisdom?
I had a weekend, they come at the end of every week. It was neither good nor bad it was somewhere in the middle. Actually, I made it bad. All the baddness came from my choices and my fears. And I left me rather sour for Monday morning. Chaplain, what do you do when you don't feel like it. When there is frustration with God, how do I bring his presence.
The position of minister is bigger than me. It is beyond what I can understand or know or even be. It is an ordained job where the divine presents itself in flesh to those in pain.
There was a three year old getting brain surgery this morning, so at least for that time, my weekend didn't matter. It was as if God was standing before me saying, "When your done with self pitty I have something for you to do." I felt I did fine, but I wonder what I could have done if I lessened my self...
The position of minister is bigger than me. It is beyond what I can understand or know or even be. It is an ordained job where the divine presents itself in flesh to those in pain.
There was a three year old getting brain surgery this morning, so at least for that time, my weekend didn't matter. It was as if God was standing before me saying, "When your done with self pitty I have something for you to do." I felt I did fine, but I wonder what I could have done if I lessened my self...
Friday, November 24, 2006
Holidays?
I remember an episode of MASH where the whole camp is looking forward to a Christmas celebration. The kids from the local orphanage are on their way and everyone is happy. Then tragety hits. One of their patients begins to drop blood pressure. All through the 25th they fight to keep him alive even though they know he won't make it in the long run, they know he is going to die. Over and over again they shock him, put him through CPR, why when they know it is pointless? Because he is a father and they don't want the kids to lose Christmas.
They finally lose him at 11:45 PM. The death certificate will still read TOD 11:45 12/25. What do they do? they push the minute hand on the clock 15 minutes ahead and fill out the death certificate.
I know this is fiction but it was what went through my mind this morning as I sat at a an emergency code. The man had been coding since 5:30 it was now 7:45. Thy stabalize him he is good for some time then he codes again, over and over. Why? Why not just let him die? The family is on the way. Six children comming from more than an hour away.
It is also the day after thanksgiving. What does this do to the holiday, what does this bode well for in giving thanks. At least it wasn't yesterday, no that would be horrible, because yesterday the wife was sitting in the Critical Care Wating Room, she slept there all night in her clothes. Hospitals don't close on Thanksgiving. I am on call the day after thanksgiving, why? because I want to go home for Christmas. Of course that is what I said about Labor Day.
What happens to family dynamics with death around the holidays? I was thinking about that as I stood in the room with the family this morning, and I thought of that episode of MASH, and I thought about the family racing to get here and the doctors and nurses working like mad to keep him alive. All I could do was stand there, a harbinger of death, and once it happened a reminder.
Happy Thanksgiving
They finally lose him at 11:45 PM. The death certificate will still read TOD 11:45 12/25. What do they do? they push the minute hand on the clock 15 minutes ahead and fill out the death certificate.
I know this is fiction but it was what went through my mind this morning as I sat at a an emergency code. The man had been coding since 5:30 it was now 7:45. Thy stabalize him he is good for some time then he codes again, over and over. Why? Why not just let him die? The family is on the way. Six children comming from more than an hour away.
It is also the day after thanksgiving. What does this do to the holiday, what does this bode well for in giving thanks. At least it wasn't yesterday, no that would be horrible, because yesterday the wife was sitting in the Critical Care Wating Room, she slept there all night in her clothes. Hospitals don't close on Thanksgiving. I am on call the day after thanksgiving, why? because I want to go home for Christmas. Of course that is what I said about Labor Day.
What happens to family dynamics with death around the holidays? I was thinking about that as I stood in the room with the family this morning, and I thought of that episode of MASH, and I thought about the family racing to get here and the doctors and nurses working like mad to keep him alive. All I could do was stand there, a harbinger of death, and once it happened a reminder.
Happy Thanksgiving
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Story:
I know I haven't posted forever and today I posted like three times, get over it there is a story I want to tell.
As a sophomore in college I hated children. Ok maybe hate is a strong word, I just didn't understand them, I had never really worked on being a child myself, I spent my childhood trying to be an adult. I saw two options if I was going to be a minister, Preacher or Youth Minister. I chose Preacher because I hated teenagers, ok yes I know it is a strong word I am fallen get over it, even more than children. I also didn't want to go home for a week from Arkansas to West Virginia, it didn't seem to make sense, so I signed up very late to this campeign to Fortworth Texas.
I didn't know what this Campaign was about I just knew that my buddy Charlie was going so I signed up for that Christain Jubilee. I found out after I paid in full, we were teaching inner city children about God all week. I was not happy about this but hid my distain to the team members, but not to my friends. I complained all over the place. I complained also to God, "Lord you got to do something with this because I can't." Sometimes I wish God had not listened.
Well there was this girl named Hillary. I liked her I don't think she really ever returned that, but it was ok I was in her wedding a few years later, wonderful event still one of my best memories of college. She had taken me to WalMart to get the things I needed the day before, see I didn't have a car. At Walmart we came accross the balls, they were probably a foot in diameter and she seemed taken with them so I put it in my cart and bought the ball. I informed her that we needed to try the ball out so we went to a local park and kicked it around for a while. As the sun set we sat below a jungle jim, looked sort of like thunderdome, Hillary, the Ball and me. As the sun is setting I am considering making a move, and the playground floods with children. I don't know where the hell they came from but they were all over the place. It had been empty and quiet all that time before.
Yet, the children avoided us like the plague, Hillary had made a comment about that. Well, okay there was one little girl who sheepishly came over and said through a staggard tone, "Can I play with your ball." Sure I said. thirty seconds later thunderdome is covered with children and we are in the center. At the end of the night I found that girl and asked her if she wanted the ball, she did. God was listening. At that point I didn't worry about the comming week.
Since that time I have taught children in different countries, and all over this one. I spent two years as an innercity Children's minister and now I am a Pediatric Chaplain. God was truly listening, sometimes I wish he would forget and make me a maitenence man. I should have added something to that prayer, "God do something with THIS COMMING WEEK," but then would he have blessed me this far? I don't know if I will work with children the rest of my life, but I know right now I am, and it is because God put me here.
Some morning at my hospital I look at the diagnosis of the patient I am walking in to talk to and I don't know what to say. Broken bones, broken families, broken promises, broken people. What can I say, most of the time I don't know. But if I am really on those mornings before I walk in I say, "God I got nothin, you need to do something." I remember thunderdome and I knock on the door.
As a sophomore in college I hated children. Ok maybe hate is a strong word, I just didn't understand them, I had never really worked on being a child myself, I spent my childhood trying to be an adult. I saw two options if I was going to be a minister, Preacher or Youth Minister. I chose Preacher because I hated teenagers, ok yes I know it is a strong word I am fallen get over it, even more than children. I also didn't want to go home for a week from Arkansas to West Virginia, it didn't seem to make sense, so I signed up very late to this campeign to Fortworth Texas.
I didn't know what this Campaign was about I just knew that my buddy Charlie was going so I signed up for that Christain Jubilee. I found out after I paid in full, we were teaching inner city children about God all week. I was not happy about this but hid my distain to the team members, but not to my friends. I complained all over the place. I complained also to God, "Lord you got to do something with this because I can't." Sometimes I wish God had not listened.
Well there was this girl named Hillary. I liked her I don't think she really ever returned that, but it was ok I was in her wedding a few years later, wonderful event still one of my best memories of college. She had taken me to WalMart to get the things I needed the day before, see I didn't have a car. At Walmart we came accross the balls, they were probably a foot in diameter and she seemed taken with them so I put it in my cart and bought the ball. I informed her that we needed to try the ball out so we went to a local park and kicked it around for a while. As the sun set we sat below a jungle jim, looked sort of like thunderdome, Hillary, the Ball and me. As the sun is setting I am considering making a move, and the playground floods with children. I don't know where the hell they came from but they were all over the place. It had been empty and quiet all that time before.
Yet, the children avoided us like the plague, Hillary had made a comment about that. Well, okay there was one little girl who sheepishly came over and said through a staggard tone, "Can I play with your ball." Sure I said. thirty seconds later thunderdome is covered with children and we are in the center. At the end of the night I found that girl and asked her if she wanted the ball, she did. God was listening. At that point I didn't worry about the comming week.
Since that time I have taught children in different countries, and all over this one. I spent two years as an innercity Children's minister and now I am a Pediatric Chaplain. God was truly listening, sometimes I wish he would forget and make me a maitenence man. I should have added something to that prayer, "God do something with THIS COMMING WEEK," but then would he have blessed me this far? I don't know if I will work with children the rest of my life, but I know right now I am, and it is because God put me here.
Some morning at my hospital I look at the diagnosis of the patient I am walking in to talk to and I don't know what to say. Broken bones, broken families, broken promises, broken people. What can I say, most of the time I don't know. But if I am really on those mornings before I walk in I say, "God I got nothin, you need to do something." I remember thunderdome and I knock on the door.
check out this guy
What do you think? This is from the halloween party I went to, I was an Episcopal priest
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Just an update
So what is going on with me lately.
Had to buy a car, I slapped the DNR tag to mine and bought something reliable I found a 2002 Nissan Sentra GXE. Been happy with it so far.
Happy about the election for the most part. I was a little sad about how Tennessee turned out on certain issues. I like the guy elected for the House from Shelby County and I like Bredisen but I was sad no. 1 passed and I was sad Ford Jr. Lost. He lost support in Memphis because he wouldn't support Cohen. It happens, I hope he runs again.
Still working at LeBonheur Children's Medical Center in Memphis Tennessee, I was tired this morning but I generally like my job.
I will probably get to go home for Christmas, the country roads will take me there, looking forward to seeing my family especially my niece Anna. I hear she has been causing oh such a fuss.
Note on dancing:
I will be in West Virginia for a week during Christmas so if anyone knows of any swing dancing that goes on around wheeling or up into pittsburg let me know.
Had to buy a car, I slapped the DNR tag to mine and bought something reliable I found a 2002 Nissan Sentra GXE. Been happy with it so far.
Happy about the election for the most part. I was a little sad about how Tennessee turned out on certain issues. I like the guy elected for the House from Shelby County and I like Bredisen but I was sad no. 1 passed and I was sad Ford Jr. Lost. He lost support in Memphis because he wouldn't support Cohen. It happens, I hope he runs again.
Still working at LeBonheur Children's Medical Center in Memphis Tennessee, I was tired this morning but I generally like my job.
I will probably get to go home for Christmas, the country roads will take me there, looking forward to seeing my family especially my niece Anna. I hear she has been causing oh such a fuss.
Note on dancing:
I will be in West Virginia for a week during Christmas so if anyone knows of any swing dancing that goes on around wheeling or up into pittsburg let me know.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Find lyrics
One of my favorite hymn's is an old Ukrainian tune called "while on the sea." I used to have a hymnal with this song in it, I have since lent the hymnal to a church member who never came back. I can never find mention of this hymn by anything other than the title on google. I can never find the words. Can someone give me the words?
God Bless
God Bless
Monday, October 16, 2006
It don't mean a thing
Being a part of the neo swing (dancing) movement it is almost pre-requisite to see the movie "Swing Kids." Other than wondabar dancing there is a message to the movie, it is stated midway through when an SS man says, "sometimes it is better to know what we are getting into before we get into it." In the movie the SS man is talking about the bookseller that Peter(the protagonist) works for, but in the overall scheme of the move isn’t that what we ask of anyone in Germany of the time? Couldn’t you see the atrocity didn’t you think it odd that an entire people group was made scapegoat (Jews). So how did it happen?
In this movie the Hitler Youth (HJ) were taught that Jews were evil, they were strangling the world economically and morally corrupt. There was a warning on a building to beware of nigger/kike music. I don’t suppose I have to define those words. Thomas, Peter’s best friend at first opposed the Nazi’s but then found that he was wonderfully accepted by the Nazi party, what could be so wrong with a place that made him feel so good. At home he was a troublemaker, with his other friends he was stupid (or so he thought), it was only in the Hitler Jungen that he could feel accepted. Why do we think it odd that a teenager runs to a group of people that encourage him and accept him? How did the Nazi’s win him? They said, "Good job," when he did well, and let him know that even he had something to offer to the Nazi party. There was a place he could fit in… not until the end when his hands were wrapped around his best friends neck did he realize what he was "getting into."
The Nazi’s did something genius, they tied politics and morality together. To be a good Nazi you didn’t drink or smoke, you didn’t take foreign foods into the system you were pure. Being a part of that party meant being pure, being German only, almost like being holy. There was rebellion against them; in the move it is the "Swing Kids" that rebel. Their lifestyle is understood as immoral and unhealthy. All they did was waist their time on music and dancing that clouded their judgment.
Morality was a tool used by the Nazi’s to get their way, my question, do we use morality to get our way politically?
In the last four years the United States has taken over two countries, one most people wouldn’t argue against, the other was taken over for weapons we never found. We are now stuck in a part of the world that is volatile. Why? Well, what is going on back home? What are the issues people vote on? I know people who will vote for a candidate purely for his stance on abortion. Why, because maybe abortion is murder (understand this is not necessarily my opinion) however, when that president allows physiological torcher against POW’s and orders the death of thousands of Muslims because they have a different set of politics no one bats an eyelash. I wonder why? I wonder if our current regime wins because it aligns itself with the moral right. Abortion, gay marriage… these are the things we care about, but what about our international ethics? I wonder.
I might be far fetched here… but a world leader has to start slow… I wonder if Hitler had worked slower, would he have gotten further? Hitler married politics and morality. Real German’s don’t drink, real German’s don’t dance, real German’s don’t like Jews. What do real Americans do? If you live in the Bible belt there is a good chance we don’t drink or dance, and who are we taught to hate? Who doesn’t fit into our social scheme, who is our scapegoat? Let me ask it a different way, what social issue keeps us from voting on a President in relation to the war? In Tennessee I think it is the 1st issue on the ballot, the marriage amendment. We will vote for any individual, even a megalomaniac (not to say Bush is) as long as they don’t let gay people marry. Because no matter how many Muslims we kill, at least Gay people can’t be married.
Shock and awe, that is what he called our tactics in Iraq. It means we come in fast and win, sort of like lightning. We scare them into letting us win, lightning is scary, why not just call it a lightning war instead, well… that name was already taken… Blitzkreig
A homeless schizophrenic came up to me in Wendi’s today and asked me if I felt safe… when people ask me that regardless of whether they are on their meds or not I am not sure what to say.
In this movie the Hitler Youth (HJ) were taught that Jews were evil, they were strangling the world economically and morally corrupt. There was a warning on a building to beware of nigger/kike music. I don’t suppose I have to define those words. Thomas, Peter’s best friend at first opposed the Nazi’s but then found that he was wonderfully accepted by the Nazi party, what could be so wrong with a place that made him feel so good. At home he was a troublemaker, with his other friends he was stupid (or so he thought), it was only in the Hitler Jungen that he could feel accepted. Why do we think it odd that a teenager runs to a group of people that encourage him and accept him? How did the Nazi’s win him? They said, "Good job," when he did well, and let him know that even he had something to offer to the Nazi party. There was a place he could fit in… not until the end when his hands were wrapped around his best friends neck did he realize what he was "getting into."
The Nazi’s did something genius, they tied politics and morality together. To be a good Nazi you didn’t drink or smoke, you didn’t take foreign foods into the system you were pure. Being a part of that party meant being pure, being German only, almost like being holy. There was rebellion against them; in the move it is the "Swing Kids" that rebel. Their lifestyle is understood as immoral and unhealthy. All they did was waist their time on music and dancing that clouded their judgment.
Morality was a tool used by the Nazi’s to get their way, my question, do we use morality to get our way politically?
In the last four years the United States has taken over two countries, one most people wouldn’t argue against, the other was taken over for weapons we never found. We are now stuck in a part of the world that is volatile. Why? Well, what is going on back home? What are the issues people vote on? I know people who will vote for a candidate purely for his stance on abortion. Why, because maybe abortion is murder (understand this is not necessarily my opinion) however, when that president allows physiological torcher against POW’s and orders the death of thousands of Muslims because they have a different set of politics no one bats an eyelash. I wonder why? I wonder if our current regime wins because it aligns itself with the moral right. Abortion, gay marriage… these are the things we care about, but what about our international ethics? I wonder.
I might be far fetched here… but a world leader has to start slow… I wonder if Hitler had worked slower, would he have gotten further? Hitler married politics and morality. Real German’s don’t drink, real German’s don’t dance, real German’s don’t like Jews. What do real Americans do? If you live in the Bible belt there is a good chance we don’t drink or dance, and who are we taught to hate? Who doesn’t fit into our social scheme, who is our scapegoat? Let me ask it a different way, what social issue keeps us from voting on a President in relation to the war? In Tennessee I think it is the 1st issue on the ballot, the marriage amendment. We will vote for any individual, even a megalomaniac (not to say Bush is) as long as they don’t let gay people marry. Because no matter how many Muslims we kill, at least Gay people can’t be married.
Shock and awe, that is what he called our tactics in Iraq. It means we come in fast and win, sort of like lightning. We scare them into letting us win, lightning is scary, why not just call it a lightning war instead, well… that name was already taken… Blitzkreig
A homeless schizophrenic came up to me in Wendi’s today and asked me if I felt safe… when people ask me that regardless of whether they are on their meds or not I am not sure what to say.
Monday, October 09, 2006
That tottling town
Went to Chicago over the weekend. Went to the "Windy City Lindy Exchange," had a great time. What is a Lindy Exchange you ask? Well, a Lindy Exchange is when a buch of swing dancer's often Lindy based or similar dances, get together and dance all weekend. I arrived in Chicago Saturday morning at 3 AM and danced until 5 AM Next dance started satruday night at 9:00 went till 12:00 the next started a 1:00 AM and we began driving home at 5 in the morning when it was over.
I had a blast, what did I learn you ask. I am not very good at dancing, but since I love it, I can get better.
I had a blast, what did I learn you ask. I am not very good at dancing, but since I love it, I can get better.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
The Dempsey's
A buddy a mine told me some time ago that I needed to hear this band called "The Dempsey's" he said I would "dig" them. So last night (Wednesday) I went to Blues City Cafe on Beale in Memphis to hear "The Dempsey's." Their show was amazing. It is this Rock-a-billie band. They started with "Cry Cry Cry," by Johnney Cash, they hit an Elvis song or two, and a lot of their own stuff. At one point the bassist seemed to almost make love to his bass at some points, sometimes it would look like he was riding the bass. Often he would stand on the bass and a couple times he stood on the base playing the guitar while the guitar player played the bass he was standing on. WOW. They played so much, so long, and so fast it was exhausting for me. If you ever get the chance check out "The Dempsey's" on a scale of 1-10 on amount of ass kicked I would say 10. All the ass in that place at some point got kicked. On the level of how much Hell was played on the base from demonic-sanctified. I would say they were sanctified because they played all the Hell out of that place. Anyway, check em out. I would post a pic but since I don't have internet "that is how the hipsters say it these days" it is a pain in the neck to post pics.
Peace and Hairgrease
Peace and Hairgrease
The Dempsey's
A buddy a mine told me some time ago that I needed to hear this band called "The Dempsey's" he said I would "dig" them. So last night (Wednesday) I went to Blues City Cafe on Beale in Memphis to hear "The Dempsey's." Their show was amazing. It is this Rock-a-billie band. They started with "Cry Cry Cry," by Johnney Cash, they hit an Elvis song or two, and a lot of their own stuff. At one point the bassist seemed to almost make love to his bass at some points, sometimes it would look like he was riding the bass. Often he would stand on the bass and a couple times he stood on the base playing the guitar while the guitar player played the bass he was standing on. WOW. They played so much, so long, and so fast it was exhausting for me. If you ever get the chance check out "The Dempsey's" on a scale of 1-10 on amount of ass kicked I would say 10. All the ass in that place at some point got kicked. On the level of how much Hell was played on the base from demonic-sanctified. I would say they were sanctified because they played all the Hell out of that place. Anyway, check em out. I would post a pic but since I don't have internet "that is how the hipsters say it these days" it is a pain in the neck to post pics.
Peace and Hairgrease
Peace and Hairgrease
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