Christmas - er Holiday Pics

My brother in law Tony was back from Iraq. Here he is showing pics from the easter service. They held it on top of a pile of stones that was Abes house in Ur.









This is dad. I got him a John Deere hat and John Deere shirt and a tree ornament for his wife.








This is my neph Kit. I have no idea why it is sideways - thanks blogger!








Here he is again... sitting on his brothers head.









He is quite the scrapper (like his cool uncle) here he is destroying one of those blow up punch doll things.








I got all the kids these PVC marshmallow shooters. They were a big hit with the kids and drove the rents nuts. Man, am i a cool uncle or what.











Dakota...








Cassie...










Yep, I taught her that...

Rural Poems

Maybe its in the season - this dying time of winter.
Or maybe its in this place - this hard, dead end place
Where nothing changes in any one lifetime.
Maybe it is in the melancholy sound
Of the south wind howling on the prairie
Or maybe its in the soil - dark and rich from eons of ice ages.

Winter travel cuts deep ruts in the dirt roads leading home.
Coming home, driving these roads,
We have all cut deep ruts in life,
Treading the same old paths
And you and me and everyone we know,
We are all stuck - stuck in the ruts we’ve cut

Change is feared here, more than death
And we resist it in others for fear,
Lest our own fears come incarnate,
That our own stagnation be revealed.

I used to believe it was born in us - this curse.
Now I see more clearly.
We are born into it - this curse
Of failure and half hearted hope.

I see it in my nieces and nephews.
They grow up and disappointment becomes familiar
Lacking dreams anchored in a hope that transcends this place
They are resigned to the slow dying of heart.

My little Joshua I fear I failed you
It was not me that spoke, but my fear
My own dying ruled me

Christmas is a cruel mocker, a bitter time of taunting
Happy lights and joyous décor hang about like a bitter
Ironic backdrop for the tragic minor dramas of our lives.
Tears twinkle in the red and green lights
And hark the herald angels sing a child is born
Plays too loud on the PA as the shoppers sedate themselves.

Gabriel turned in his wings
He’s sitting at the bar with Santa
Sipping 101and stuffing quarters
In the jukebox - listening to Waylon
Croon that sad song one more time.

A post for this Holiday, er.. Christmas Season

I am leaving on a plane tomarrow morning for Kansas. I will be gone for a week, hanging out with family and shooting photos of the high plains.

Needless to say I probably won't have any posts for a bit.

So I will leave this for you.

Christmas Gifts for Your Man, From an Expert

There are a lot of folks out there trying to tell you what to get the man in your life for Christmas. Like this one and this one. They are a little - well, a lot on the Metrosexual side. And I guess that makes sense, a lot of men are metro now a days. But there are still a few of us "Old School" men around. So I have compiled a short list for anyone who needs to shop for an Old School man.

I consider myself an expert about these things cause a) I am a man b) I use these things everyday.

In the order in which I thought of them:

1. These dudes are a bit on the expensive side, but it is worth it. Believe it or not not all levels are made equal, or level for that matter. These things are the best there is.Stabila Level














2. The Sheffield Utility Knife is the way to go here folks. Most utility knives are too big to fit in your pocket, and after awhile they won't close all the way and so if you do put them in your pocket you'll end up stabbing yourself in the ass. Some genius finally made a folding knife. I have two of them now cause my crew is a bunch of thieves. I bought a second one and then took my first one back from the dude who took it.Sheffield Folding Lock Back Utility Knife


3. Forget the tool box. Get your man a Bucketboss. Self explanitory. It is a tool bag that goes around a bucket. I have two of them and couldn't live with out 'em.Bucket Boss













4. Every framer has his own favorite brand of hammer. But on any job sight you will find more of these than any other. I couldn't get the pic to upload to Blogger (thaks Blogger!) Go with the 24oz and let the hammer do the work not your arm. Vaughan Blue Max Hammer:Vaughan "Blue Max" High Performance California Framer 19 oz.








5. Dead On Death Stick Exhumer. There are a lot of nail pullers. Some think the Japanese ones are the best. But only the Death Stick has a bottle opener on it.Death Stick Exhumer






6. I have wrecked feet and a wrecked back. These dudes are heaven. More comfortable than my New Balance shoes and that is saying something. Put em on and forget em. They are expensive, but they will replace the uppers for free for life and wax them for free once a month.Red Wing Shoes - Shoe Detail




7. Bosch 14.4V Compact Tough(TM) Cordless Drill/Driver. If you are going to buy a drill, get a Bosch. 14 Volts is plenty. I use mine everyday. If I need more power I use a power drill. Don't let em sell you an 18 or 24 Volt drill. If your gonna need that much power, use a corded drill - you get more torque.

8. Aviators. Forget Oakley. Aviators all the way. White Trash accesories.Aviator Sunglasses.







9. George Foreman GRP99 Next Generation Grill with Removable Plates, Silver Metallic Finish

















10. Every man loves chilli. Put in a pound of ground round some beans and sauce. I start with beef, and keep adding stuff throughout the week.Cuisinart Slow Cooker















11. Napster Gift Subscription. No more stealing music.Napster.com



12. Steady Ed Memmorial Disc. I met the inventor of the frisbee and the game of disc golf before he died. They took his ashes and put em in a limited edition of discs.Disc Golf Association





13. This should be on every mans shelf. Jack London's Call of the Wild:The Call of the Wild

14. Your man like movies? Who doesn't. Netflix Gift Subscription:Netflix

15. Jameson THE BEST IRISH BOOZ. Period.









16. Ben Davis Pants. These things are tough and comfortable. I wear them everyday. Right now I am wearing a pair. I have been wearing them for 2 weeks.Ben Davis


Happy Shopping!

Pop Quiz

Which of the following are related? Bonus points if you know why that is significant.

1) King Albert I, Belgium

2) Tsar Nicholas II, Russia

3) King Constantine I, Greece

4) Kaiser Wilhelm II, Germany

5) King Vittorio Emanuele III, Italy

6) King George V, United Kingdom

Help Wanted

So here is the deal. There is a dude who lives in my town and shares the same first name with me who has never met a Credit Card/morgage/homeloan application that he didn't like. He has gone and put my phone # on all these forms. Now I get a minimum of 5 calls a day from CC/Morgage companies.


Ring Ring...
Hello.

Hello is _______ there?

Speaking.

Hello I am calling from (insert cc/morgage company).

Yeah, no I don't want a cc and I don't own my home..

But you signed up for a Home Loan.

No I didn't

Yes you did

No I didn't.

Yes..

LOOOK! See, this dude used my number on his form because he is either deceptive, or a moron. But I don't own a home, don'e want a home loan, and didn't fill out a form.

Are you sure?

Click.

That is how it went at first. As time went by I added explitives. It is real rough when the telemarketer is from another country. I don't even try to explain.

Now I just cut them short,

Hello, is ______ there?

Yeah, here is the deal. Some dude used this number on all his forms. I am not him. I do not want anything, no matter what it is from you. I am on a do not call list.... CLICK!

I have asked them for there home numbers and names and addresses but that doesn't get you far.

I have been polite.

I have been rude.

Now I want to get even.

Now, here is the deal, my home phone number has been associated with this house for a couple years. And I know the guy who lived here for the last 4 or 5 years. There is no way this other dude used to have this number. He has either given this number out cause he is deceptive or a moron.

I want you help. I want to irritate this guy and the telemarketers as much as they have me.

Any suggestions?

Oh, and I think I can get his address from the telemarketers when they call.

When Jesus Cleans a Toilet

In the mid-evil period He is portrayed
As either a thin, anorexic figure, hand raised
In blessing/rebuke with a halo suspended
Above his brow.

Sometimes He is an infant
With a grown-up expression encased in stained glass
Amazingly the God incarnate is never portrayed
As human as we,
never with dirt beneath His nails,
or a black and blue thumb,
though surely this God become carpenter’s son
must have missed a nail and mashed a finger or two.

But here he is with me.
The two of us plunging a toilet, calculating the maximum sheets of two ply
That can be successfully flushed down an American Standard toilet.
He’s also there emptying the trash as we intercede For the people in the office.
Reminding me that my reward is in heaven, not in the mouths of my coworkers.

And when I’ve just sat down for dinner
When my radio sounds off with a request for
Clean towels in Redwood #6, he too sacrifices
A warm meal.

As we walk he tells me about the time he made bread from dew on the ground.
"Ya, I remember," I murmur. And even though he could
Halt the torrent of rain He had caused to fall as I climb the ladder to fix a gutter
He instead steadies the ladder for me
And we reflect on the common grace
the much needed rain brings to both the righteous and evil.

In our long night of cold and wet thankless work
he gently asks me to make right an evil I’ld done some other image barer
an act I had been justifying all day.
"You know that really hurt her," He says.

As I prepare the sanctuary for tomorrow’s group,
he listens with delight as I sing Him centuries old love hymns sliding off key.
For most of the night I do most of the talking,
but he has spotted, and calls my attention
to a stain in the carpet left by drop of communion wine,
and he whispers "my blood, shed for you."

Then, when its well past midnight,
And I switch of my radio and sip some water,
My friend waits at my bedside,
Where I’ll give a reckoning of my day and worship this king become friend
who just hours before was helping me inventory tissue paper.

Emergent as Reform Movement

While I do not consider myself an Emergent Christian, or part of the Emergent movement, I do have some sympathy with their cause and like some of what I see coming out of the movement.

So in that light I offer this observation.

I find it ironic that some of the greatest criticism of the Emergent folk comes from the Reformed corner of Christianity. I find it ironic because the Emergers have a lot in common with other reform movements throughout history. Really, isn’t that what the Emergent movement is, a reform movement?

Luther sought reform in the church after being shocked by the use of indulgences. The Covenant church as well arose from a dissatisfaction with the established church. Maybe instead of viewing the Emergent church as an effort to be “relevant” much like the church growth movement it would be more helpful to see the Emergers as reformers. They don’t want to start new sects but to reform the practices of the church that they believe are in error.

This helps in at least one way in that much of the criticism of the movement is about what they believe. This was at the center of the criticism of the earlier reform movements. However, the Emergent movement, like earlier reform movements, is not monolithic. Luther and Calvin had to contend with the radical reformers who misinterpreted or stretched their ideas beyond where the reformers intended. And in the Emergent movement there are those who are “radical” in their efforts.

The result was that the reformers developed and published their theology, missiology, and liturgy. I wonder what would happen if the various emergent groups could articulate their own individual confessions to their critics so as to show that they are indeed orthodox and differentiate themselves from those in the movement who would take the movement beyond the realm of historic orthodoxy.

I think there will always be folk (uber reformed) who think any deviance from the Westminster Confession, the Hiedelburg, and Puritan forms of worship developed back in the 16c is heresy. But for the reasonable person this effort to clarify their dogmas might help the critics relax their sphinkters.

Just an observation.

The War On Christmas: Lobbing Spit Balls for Jesus

Now here are some folks doing God's work.

THE WAR ON CHRISTMAS: MUSCLEHEADS FIGHT BACK!

We are excited to be
launching the opportunity today...between now and Christmas we are asking you to
send the ACLU direct "MerryChristmas" cards.

And we aren't talking about
these generic "happy holiday" (meaning nothing) type of cards...

Go get
as "Christmas" a Christmas card as you can find... something that says.. "Joy To
The World", "For Unto Us A Child Is Born", but at least "Merry Christmas", put
some of your own thoughts into it, sign it respectfully and zip it off in the
mail to

ACLU
"Wishing You Merry Christmas"
125 Broad Street
18th Floor
New York, NY 10004

UPDATE 12/7: We HAVE NOW completed
the online E-Card. You can send easily by simply clicking on the card below...



BUT there will be no effect like actually sending a physical
card to the national offices. MuscleHead guidelines apply - please be kind, even
cheerful in sending the card. Trust me - kindness will produce more smoke out of
their ears than anything untoward you could think of anyway...

UPDATE
12/2: If you are finding this blog entry via a permalink you may miss the
continuing coverage of the growing number of blogs in the fight. CLICK HERE for
full access to the on-going story. If you are a blog helping get out the word,
consider also publishing an e-blast to your own list. Whether you point them to
your own posts about the matter or whether you bring them here doesn't matter -
the point is we just need as many people as possible to be sending cards. You
can also officially join the "Merry Christmas ACLU Network" by clicking here

Crosswalk.com - Kevin McCullough's Weblog

Broke Back Mt and How the Right Reacts to Everything

Ok so I was over on blogs4God and saw that the only blog they listed that was commenting on Broke Back Mt was this dude. I know a few folks are ticked that a cowboy movie is about gay love. Look people, my whole family are cowboys. Generations of my family have been cowboys. I don't find it the least bit offensive. I also don't understand the rhetoric that this is one more example of the gay propaganda in hollywood. Look, this kind of thing actually happens. I have heard rumors back home about folk that, well, this was basically their story.

Well I read the guys post. He posts from a Right Wing perspective so you can imagine that he like everyone on the Right was witty, evenhanded, objective, intellegent and the whole thing was beautifully written...

Not so much.

Instead of judging the flick on its merits (which I don't think he has even seen), no he goes into a Fallwellien rant that hits all the Rights favorite baddies; Communism, the secret gay agenda, signs of the End Times, the decline of America since 1940, and Hollywood elitism. Communism, the End Times, and the secret gay agenda - if you can get all those baddies in on one rant you have scored a Right Wing Hat Trick.

If the Right wants to shed it's image as being backwards and hateful, they gotta drop this kind of rhetoric.

Anyway, he was going on and on about Broke Back Mountain and the evil gay commies in Hollywood. I decided to Comment. I quote his post, then add my 2 bits.

"this movie has proven once and for all that Hollywood and it's actors have no real belief in equality and wish to force there viewpoint on the world. "

yeah, cause gay bashing is all about equality...


"Look it all this excitement over a movie that flaunts immorality and now think back to Mel Gibsons "The Passion". Remember how much Hollywood wanted to toss him out of business because he 'dared' make a movie about Jesus Christ? I mean, Mr. Gibson made a movie that told of God's undying love for us to the point that he would sacrifice his only son so we have a chance of getting to heaven...and the movie Industry wanted to tar and feather Mr. Gibson. "

no, people were afraid that Gibsons dipiction of the Passion would be antisemetic...


"Hollywood is a communistic, propaganda machine that is attempted to undermine the sovereignty and moral standards of our nation! "

Ok Sen McCarthy where is your proof?

"Not once have they in there history of existence have tried to make the world a better place and to help anyone else. All they have been doing is pushing for there own cause and telling people that you should live like them or get ostracized from society. "

wow, ok, that sounds like communism... or not really.


"I will always believe that Hollywood is a cancer in our nation and if it isn't removed, this country has been declared terminally ill. "

Sorry, no response to this, it just made me laugh my ass off.


"It's not a beautiful world we live in anymore. The innocence and quietness of the 1800s are gone and the massive patriotism of the 1940s has disappeared "

Oh yes, those innocent 1800's when a man could beat his wife, his kid, and his slave and not feel guilty. so so innocent.
i too miss the 1940's. Back then you wouldn't find a women out of the home, different races dating, and you could feel good about your prejudices.

"The Bible says that "In the ends times, Right will be called wrong and wrong will be called right." ....
I pray anyone who reads this will understand what I mean and realize the fight for the freedom of our country should begin. That it must be known that EVERYBODY, no matter of what race, gender, or skin color, has the unalienable right to speak his mind and the Freedom of speech is not given to only a select few that believe as the elitists do. "

So what do you propose we do with our free speech? You don't believe that "EVERYBODY, no matter what race, gender, or skin color has the right to speak his mind" cause you don't want the "commies" in holiwood to speak theirs.

Why are you so uncomfortable with homosexuality?

What really got under my skin is the this guy is a Christian. Since when did homophobia and the red scare become part of the Kingdom? Oh, and man the linking of Christian morality and nationalism... that kind of crapp is killing the church.

He is entitled to his opinion, I just wish he wouldn't express it publically and link himself to Christianity.

A Patriot: Brokeback Mountain = Broken World

Pro-Life... Except when we don't like you.

Right now I am watching a Frontline report on abortion, noting the work that Christians have done politically to make abortion difficult to access if not illegal. Images of women outside clinics singing "Jesus loves the little children..." and praying for the lives of the unborn.

Tonight California will kill Stanley Tookie Williams.

Many of those who pushed for the Governator not to grant him clemency were Christians. I just did a little sweep of blogs4God and the majority of Christian bloggers believe Williams should die. Some are even giddy. Very few are out front of San Quinton protesting, or praying.

How can this be? How can we say we are pro-life when we think it is OK for the State to kill a citizen?

Where the hell is Americans for the Right to Life?

I don't know all the details of Williams' case. There are two sides to every story. But I don't think the larger issue is over Williams' guilt or innocence, or has he shown enough remorse to merrit clemency. I don't think it is even that there are certain crimes that merrit death. The larger issue is that we as a society kill our own citizens. And the American church, contra the vast majority of those in our long tradition and others around the world, is silent.

There is no biblical warrent for the death penalty under the New Covenant.

Someone will inevitably someone will quote from the Decalogue and Exodus and Deuteronomy.

Ok. You can use the Law given to the Nation of Israel. But you have to be consistant. Did you do work on Saturday? Well, we will all be at your house tomarrow to stone you. Are you wearing materials that are a blend? Were you or your son circumcised on the eigth day? How was that BLT?

Write me off as a "Lefty" if you will, if that is what you have to do to avoid making a good argument.

Kraft some BS argument about deterants. Capital Punishment has worked wonders in Texas. They kill people left and right so there must be no Capital crimes in Texas.

Even be so bold as to make the argument that we value life so much that someone who takes a life forfits theirs.

Even if you are stalwart in your belief that the Bible grants for the death penalty, surely you would agree that our Justice System is deeply flawed. Recently there were a number of death row cases overturned because of DNA. On top of that, there has been recent doubt cast upon the objectivity and validity of forensic sciences, including DNA evidence, that is often used to convict citizens of crimes that warrent the death penalty. Do we really want to risk the chance that we will kill an inocent person?

That is not even to go into the socio-economic imbalance inherent in the justice system that has more African Americans on death row than any other race. How can the system be just when becuase of our societies failures in race and economics it is the poor and people of color who receive the death penalty overwhelmingly in greater numbers than rich, white, middle class citizens?

Stanley Tookie Williams III (born December 29, 1953 ,) founder with Raymond Washington of the widely-known and notorious Crips street gangs. In 1981, he was convicted and sentenced to death for the 1979 murders of four people in two
separate incidents. Williams later became an anti-gang activist while on
California's Death Row, renouncing his gang affiliation, apologizing for its founding, and co-authoring books and beginning programs to prevent youth from joining gangs. It should be noted though that Williams refuses to aid police investigations with any information against his gang. He has also been involved in attacks on guards and other inmates as well as multiple escape plots. A 2004 biographical feature film
entitled Redemption: The Stan Tookie Williams Story featured Jamie Foxx as Williams.

He is scheduled to be executed in California on December 13, 2005 at 12:01 a.m. PST by lethal injection.

God rest his soul, God forgive us.

Heartbreak is a slippery emotion to pin down. It isn’t as simple as anger or joy or happiness. It isn’t the same as sadness and it has a sharper edge than melancholy. You have to really dig at heartbreak to root out it’s source. But before that you have to realize your heart is broken. You can feel sad cause you are heartbroken. You can slip into despondency and never know that heartbreak caused you to loose your footing. Heartbreak can make you strike out in anger like a wounded animal. It’ll put a space between you and your closest friend, drive your life’s love from your arms and it can kill you if you let it.

When I am working through something I am not always conscious that I am doing so. I don’t know why. I guess cause I keep everything close and so I don’t always have the aid of objective observation. It is also hard for me to put words to emotions. I can’t always find ways of describing and thereby discerning my inner workings. So everything gets worked out in my gut with out the benefit of reasoning. As a result resolution comes when I don’t expect it. Clarity comes in dreams and in songs and on the breeze. I will be thinking about something insignificant and out of left field I will understand something else.

My mom says that when I was a toddler I went into a comatose state. My eyes were open and I seemed awake - I was sitting up - but I was stiff and unresponsive. They rushed me to the hospital and I woke up. That is when I started getting migraines. I used to get them every few months and they lasted about a week. As I got older the frequency and duration decreased but the intensity has increased. Imagine the worste headache you have ever had, then multiply that by ten and throuw in dizziness and disorientation, and nausea and sensitivity to sound and light and touch and smell.

This weak I had a pretty bad one. It started on Saturday. By Wednesday I had to leave work. I was sheathing a roof and running skill saw - not recomended when you have a migraine. All I could do was lay in bed with the blinds pulled and pillow over my head. When it gets dark outside my head gets better and I can move around a bit. That lasted about 3 days. When you lay in absolute motionless silence and total dark your head goes to a lot of places.

I have been listening to a lot of Over the Rhine and after a while some of the tunes and the lyrics found their way into my consciousness.

The last time I saw Jesus I was drinking bloody marries in the South
In
a bar room in New Orleans rinsing out a bad taste in my mouth… -
Jesus in
New Orleans

Arms spread across the dark river, The
night air causing
him to shiver
Like the fluorescent lights in the Seven
Eleven, Meet me in
the backstreets of heaven…-Cruel and Pretty

We've seen the
landfill rainbow, We've seen the junkyard of
love, Baby it's no place for you
and me…-Born

You're my water,
You're my wine, You're my whiskey,
From time to time
You're the hunger,
On my bones, All the nights, I sleep
alone…- Drunkards Prayer

The lyrics from Ohio/Clean and Drunkards Prayer are haunting. Combined with the dreamy even melancholy tunes… I dono. They just seem honest. Honest about how things really are. The love songs seem to say, “Hey baby, there ain’t no good life, just life. And sometimes life is shit but at least we got each other.” There is a sense for the tragic-comic, bitterly-ironic lackluster nature of life in those albums.

It is no secret, if you read this blog at all that I have my issues with the Church, and Evangelicalism in specific, and I guess ultimately with God. I will admit that there is no little amount of bitterness there. But I am working on it. The problem is that I haven’t gotten to the ground of the problem yet, but I have made some progress. I know that some of it is that Evangelical Christianity is really messed up. There is no debating that. I know that some of it is me, which I need to resolve, or at least adjust. And I suspect that some of it is between Jesus and me. I don’t suspect I will ever have any resolution there. He is God and I am not and I am inclined to believe that there are things I will just have to live with.

As I lay in the dark drifting in and out of consciousness with those tunes in my head I got some clarity .

I think part of my problem is in how Christianity is given to us. Over the last two thousand years the Gospel got truncated in different places and other stuff got substituted for what was lost. I think the gospel got adulterated on its way down to us from those who came before us over the last two millennia. And like a water from a poisoned well it has been slowly making us all sick.

When I started in the journey I wasn’t discerning enough to sift the wheat from the chaff and it was that commingling that led to my current state.

I think part of my problem has been the blending of so much facile self-help tripe with the Gospel. American Evangelicalism has been polluted with all that Boomer “felt needs” pop-psychology garbage. I think it got its start with Finny’s “New Methods” from the Second Great Awakening. I won’t retrace where I think all this came from here. It is all in plane sight if you read your church history.

Jesus said “come follow me” and I obeyed. No one told me to look out for this other crap. So I took the whole package.

This adulterated gospel is all full of hope and light. There are no hints at the shadow side of the faith. There is a strong emphasis on being “new” and “born again.” But no one talks about death except in the abstract and not as something to be expected, even embraced as an almost daily personal experience. Sure, we die to sin, and to self, but that is a victory right? It is never accurately described as the slow and painfully brutal experience that it is. Death is ugly. There is no shine in death. Death results in a corpse. No one tells you that, when you “die to your sins,” there will be rotting corpses lying around everywhere.

The poison in the well is that the Journey is easy cause Jesus’ burden is “light” and there is “No temptation but what is common to man” and “God is faithful” and will make a way for your escape. Except when the burden is crushing and most the time you won’t even look for that way out.

The false gospel is preached right in there with the Real Deal. It is taught along side the truth. And because we are a people of The Word it is in our books.

It’s the quid pro quo gospel of “Jesus the Motivational Speaker.” There are principles you see. And if you live by those principles you will be in God’s will and you will live the New Life. You will be a Man that God Uses, or a women who’s Prayers Avail Much. You will find the right mate, and these principles will lead to a happy marriage with kids who grow up to be missionaries and valedictorians and beauty queens. But you have to work hard and follow the principles.

I wasted a decade of my adult life trying to live by the principles. I read the right books, prayed the right prayers, listened to the right music, and used the right devotional. I thought if I found the right combination of prayer and quiet time then I would be able to escape sin. Instead I just learned to view it in the abstract. I looked around and everyone else around me seemed to be joyful. Where was my joy? Didn’t I pray enough? Didn’t I study enough? So I studied more looking for what I had missed. I read everything hoping to find the secret to loving Jesus so much that the burden would seem light and I wouldn’t want to murder and steal and lie and lust. Maybe I didn’t believe enough. Maybe I didn’t believe at all. Maybe that is why everywhere I go I leave corpses in my path.

So I guess I just gave up. It was like a death really. A long slow dying in bits and pieces. It was all in fits and starts. First I stopped having a “quiet time.” Then I stopped studying the scriptures everyday. Then not at all. Then I stopped praying everyday. Then not at all really. Church became a bore if not a burden. I found myself just going through the motions. There was a little reverse in all this when I lived in community. God was there somehow. Even there I was dying. I guess the desperation of caring for all those souls kept me honest. But it has been more than a year now and the rigor mortis has returned.

I was lied to and the breach of trust was heartbreaking. My reaction to the heartbreak was to retreat into a nihilistic and cynical mindset .

What I am learning is what I have known all along. The full Gospel includes abdication and resignation. And dying is ugly and brutal and there is no hiding the stench. I am learning that we lost all the principles when we lost the keys to The Garden. There is no good life, there’s just life and it doesn’t make sense.

None of this stuff is compatible with the false gospel, and until I despaired and gave up could I finally encounter it existentially.

Maybe after I have thought this over a bit I will put up something a little clearer, and more articulate.

Wired News: She's Only 83? Cradle Robber!

Just to say that I am at times very far ahead of the curve, I want to post this link.

I had seen on the news a report that scientists think that through genetics they may be able to extend life beyond the average of 80 today (that is of course for westerners).

I was going to be witty about the whole thing and make jokes about trafic conjestion doubling with the average life span and so on.

Then I was going to ask "why this need to live forever?" I mean, yeah, maybe folk are afraid to die, but do you honestly want to live for 200 years? I know some 80 year olds and they don't seem all that comfortable. Mostly they seem bored. With my chronic back problems and old athletic injuries I don't want to live much past 70. And to be honest, dieing before I need to wear a diaper is very appealing.

But this dude got there first.

Damn.

It is all because I was too busy when the inspiration hit, and then I found other things to post about so the rough draft sat on my desktop waiting for editing.

Too late.




Wired News: She's Only 83? Cradle Robber!

Christian Peacemaker Teams: committed to reducing violence by "Getting in the way."

Recently individuals from Christian Peacemaker Teams were kidnapped in Iraq.

Many "Christians" in the blogosphere are responding with so little heart and so much victriol - towards those kidnapped - because of their "lefty" politics.

Here are some of the "Christian" bloggers and their "Christ-less" responses:

Living In The Surreal World: Think Of It As Evolution In Action

connexions � Blog Archive � Christian Peacemaker Teams held hostage: blogs say �They�re only lefties�

This guy is as shocked as I am, but those who comment on his blog are not. Read the comments: connexions

Here is a quote,

"When I return from work I will have to do a rant on why peace activists are the most vile and morally depraved creatures on Earth. And by that I mean morally worse than those who kidnap, rape, and murder children."

Yesterday I posted an interview on Christianbook.com with Lee Camp about his book Mere Discipleship. In the interview he talks about our Constantinian Cataract. By which he means that our presuppositions are governed not by the gospel but by christiandom - the constintian understanding of christianity that links church and state and prevents us from distinguishing where our loyalties lie and where the gospel would have them.

In the case of Iraq this shows up in Christians trying to justify the administrations illigal war and the use of torture, where the gospel would call us to seek peace dispite our nation of origen.

It is a sad day when "Christians" are so blinded by their emersion in Western-American-Ee-vangelicalism that has become the religious wing of the Republican party - it is a sad day when "Christians" are so commited to their political ideologies that they cannot even conjur up sympothy for others in the baptised community who are about to die for the gospel.

In an interesting twist, other terrorist groups have denounced the actions of this splinter group, sighting that the hostages where there to work for peace and document human rights abuses.

So even the "evil" terrorists, the "enemy" can see the evil in this, but "Christians" cannot.

OVER HEARD: Interview with Lee Camp - Christianbook.com

I have a couple of friends who work for Christianbook.com. One of them interviewed Lee Camp, author of "Mere Discipleship."

It is a very enlightening interview. Here is an exerpt in which I love Camps answer:

Christianbook.com: In the middle group of chapters entitled, "What Disciples Believe," I was particularly moved by the discussion between Clarence Jordan and his brother Robert. In the conversation, Clarence accuses his brother Robert of being only an "admirer of Jesus" rather than a disciple of Jesus. How would you describe the difference between being an "admirer" versus being a disciple, and how can we move toward truly being a disciple? What does it mean to be only "admirers of Jesus" especially if we believe ourselves to truly be his disciples?

Lee Camp: As James McClendon recounts that story, Clarence Jordan’s brother said that he would follow Jesus "to the cross, but not on the cross. I’m not getting myself crucified." To this Clarence replied, "Then I don’t believe you’re a disciple. You’re an admirer of Jesus, but not a disciple of his." In the context, Clarence was asking Robert to take a public stand that would ally him against the principalities and powers of the American rural south that perpetuated racism in the mid-twentieth century. Robert knew this would be costly, and was therefore unwilling to do so. But Clarence insisted that discipleship meant a refusal to compartmentalize the Gospel, a refusal to simply say or sing about one’s admiration of Jesus, and instead to take his way seriously enough that it may have consequences.


Christianbook.com: Would you say that the church today is danger of raising up and training a host of "admirers," allowing them to believe, like Robert, that they are truly his disciples?

Lee Camp: Yes.







Interview with Lee Camp - Christianbook.com

Christians in KS Doing Their Part to Advance the Kingdom

Over on DJ's blog he is trying to sort out if he is or wants to be an evangelical in light of its many issues.

I read this article (much props to Dr P for the ongoing coverage of what has become the Mirecki Monkey trial and much of the Intel. Design. debate in Kansas), I read the article and now I am not even sure I want to call my self Christian let alone Evanglical.

Context.

See this Professor at KU wanted to teach Creationism as myth in his religious studies course. Christians balled and bitched and whined so they canned the class. But that wasn't good enough, so two fine Christian men beat the S*** out of him.

No, really.

The following thoughts come to mind:

• I have heard it argued that if we teach evolution in schools then kids will grow up thinking they came from apes and they will act like apes. Yep, that is a common argument.
  
  I can only assume these two good samaritans didn't believe they came from apes (no, they believe they are uniquely created by Jesus) so what is the reason for their behavior?

• Evangelicals are always complaining about how "the government," "the liberals," and "the media" are biased against and even persecuting Christians for their beliefs. They sight the laws against school sanctioned prayer, and the hanging of the ten commandments in court houses, and the plastic baby jesus' in public parks.
  
  I don't know, but when was the last time an Evangelical was beaten up on the side of the road for his/her ICTHUS sticker on their car? Or when was the last time a Crisis Pregnancy center was bombed by a PRO abortion advocate? Get my point?
  
  
• The whole mess in KS about teaching evolution in school is eerily reminiscent of the Scopes trial 80 years ago. In Tennessee. I have never been more embarassed to be from Kansas. We never make the news except for BTK, Tornados, and now this. I never thought I would see the day when Missouri looked better than us. We owe it all to these good samaritans.

Mirecki treated after roadside beating LJWorld.com

Birthday Weekend

Well first my mother text messaged me to say happy B-Day. I didn't have the heart to tell her that my B-day wasn't until Friday.



Then I got my box of Contra Coffee in the mail. I love getting mail that doesn't have a return envelope and the words "THIS AMOUNT DUE NOW" emblazened accross the top.









Matt's wife Heather makes the best chili in the universe and I have told her so everyday for the last month.

She whipped up a batch for me.

I ate it all on Saturday.

Matt also gave me a bottle of JD. The only time he buys alcohol is for my B-day.







I bought these tool bags for myself. They were $175 plus the optional shoulder harness.

Mine are camo, but I couldn't find a pic of the camo ones online.

Cordora, Sheepskin lined belt, man... I love my tools. That is for reals the best thing about my job. When I was a YP the only thing I ever got were those crappy CCM CD's and sugar filled devos that the Christian Pub/music industry would send to me. They would give me all this free stuff in hopes that I would pimp their garbage for them. I would bring in one of my sharper kids and we would mock the stuff, then I would just turn around and cell the junk and buy decent music.


These are the men of KI construction. Kyle said if I went out they would buy all the rounds. I avoided debauchery, but I can't say that about Kyle and Rob.

The rest of us went home while Rob and Kyle went to another bar called the "Asti." We call it the nasty asti. From what has gotten back to me one of them slept on the curb with a bum and the other woke up in a friends apartment.

That is why it is good to know your limits.




Names for Faces...













This is why you don't leave your camera at the table when you go to the bathroom.













And I got card from my friend Jodi.


And to top it all off... West Wing is back after a 2 week hiatus.

Over all a very good B-Day.

Oh, and it looks like I may be making a pilgramage to Israel in the spring. I am taking donations. Everyone who contributes will get limited edition prints of the Holy Land.

Meh.

Someone Sent This To Me For My B-Day

Some friends are taking me out to night.

If anything worth reporting happens I will post it here with pics.

(No, this is not my belly)

Long and hasten the day
When gritty hands unite
With gentle soft hands

Tenderly healing my hurts
Softly smoothing over
My rough-hewn form

And eyes meeting my own
Inviting, begging, pleading
For even more vulnerability

Hushing all fears
Encouraging fragile manhood
“Come fourth”
To be your man


Long and hasten the day
When I will lay beside you

And resting my head
On your lap and in your arms

I will weep tears
Of untold hurts and fears
There in your arms

Yes they say that I already have a redeemer
They say much, yes they say a lot
I am sure that I agree
That I have a redeemer of my soul

But doesn’t natures wisdom
Also teach us that in every man
Is a man that only a woman
Can call out only a woman can
Redeem with gentle touch
And subtle flirtations
Or rebuke with freezing scorn
And mocking laughter
How fragile is a mans ego

But I have more faith in you
I trust your heart
I hope in your soft features
As you hope and trust and have faith
In the man you see in me
More clearly than the man I see in the mirror

For Becky

There are 2921 words in the following post.

I only say this because Becky complained a while back

about my long posts.

But no worries, they are small words and I think that also includes spaces.

I used a lot of spaces

So Becky I have posted my thoughts about your concerns
Here

That said, go on to the post below and read Act Two

of the two part story I began a few days ago.

A Poo Story: Or How I Came To Try Out For Fear Factor. A comedy in two acts.

Act The Second.

Recap: In Act One I told a story about fixing pipes at Mission Springs.

The long and short of it is that while repairing a sewer pipe were squirted in the mouth with poo. You won’t need to go back and read it to appreciate the second act, but It is a real good story and I recommend you go and read it if you are a stickler for context.

The moral of the story was:
You shouldn’t let things go on in disrepair
You should always wear hazmat gear when working with sewage pipes
While many things taste like chicken poo is not one of them.

In Act Two I will tell why it was that Matt and I tried out for Fear Factor and met a 60 year old Britney Spears, Matt was asked to hold a glass eye, we met a Cyclopes, and we both learned a valuable lesson about talking to strangers.

And Now I give you: A Poo Story: ACT THE SECOND ..

In many communities there are guys who are called on to do the odd task that others are unwilling to do. This may be because the task is dangerous, or requires a rare combination of skills, or because it is an undesirable task. Or it may be a combination of all of the above.

In our community Matt and I are those guys.

We were the guys that (with the help of our friend Thomas) built the challenge courses and many other things at Mission Springs.

When those things needed repair we were the first ones they called (and we could pretty much name our wages). We have also guided many climbing trips together, and on one Thomas and I had to rescue some climbers. We can build our own homes, hunt, kill, and prepare our own food, and would make damn good pioneers. We were the guys you called to get your cat out of a tree as well as the ones to get the skunk out from under your house. We both can drive anything, build anything, and so on. We work great together because between the two of us there isn’t much that we can’t do just because we’ve done it before or can figure it out.

If the world collapses into a post apocalyptic chaos ala Mad Max Matt and I are the guys you want around.

We both have Emergency Medical Training, Rescue Training, and other cool stuff.

We are also pretty indestructible - we have both fallen out of Redwoods and off of mountains more than a few times and walked (well, hobbled) away. Matt even had a giant Redwood fall on him!

When they train instructors around here they use the gear that we have broken and stories about us to illustrate their points. And believe it or not that incident in ACT ONE wasn’t the first time either one of us had been exposed to large amounts of hazardous waste.

So we have a bit of a reputation. That is why people thought we should be on Fear Factor.

At the time of our story neither Matt nor I had a TV. We were just too busy doing other things. So when our friends started suggesting that we should be on Fear Factor, neither of us knew what they were talking about.

Even after the show was explained to us we were still a little confused. We were told stories about guys being locked up in chains and dropped to the bottom of lakes left to find the keys to the shackles. Stories of competitions in which people are timed on how quick they can rescue babies from burning cars. And of course, stories about who could eat the most bugs or pig anus in the shortest amount of time.

So of course we were intrigued. I mean, who couldn’t do that stuff?

Someone looked up when and where the next auditions were held and when that weekend came we drove up to San Francisco. It was just under a couple hours to San Francisco and the auditions started at seven in the morning so we got up early, packed our lawn chairs and headed up the highway. When we arrived we were glad to see that we were the first ones there. We set up our lawn chairs and waited for the doors to open. In a couple of minutes another would be contestant showed up and got in line with us. I do not recall her name, so let us call her Britney.

This is were everything gets weird.

Britney was on the far side of her fifties but this however did not stop her from dressing like her namesake. Imagine your grandmother dressed in skin tight poly sweats, a skin tight poly sweat top, and a bare midriff.

As Britney and Matt and I sat waiting she told us her story. Her entire story. She told us about her marriage. She told us about her kids. She told us about how she was trying to become a model/actess/singer. She told us about her “baby” who was still in her truck in the parking garage. Yeah, her “baby.“ The thing is her plane of consciousness was on a parallel yet intersecting plane from ours so you were never really sure what she was talking about. We weren’t sure if when she referred to her “baby” if she was talking about a child or her dog.

This was all in a space of about twenty minutes.

Just as Matt and I began to wonder if we shouldn’t suggest the women go and get her dog/baby out of her truck someone came and unlocked the doors and told us the line started on the other side of the building. We picked up our chairs and rounded the corner. Turns out we weren’t the first ones to arrive. Matt and I were numbers 421 and 422 out of 4000!.

We were also the smartest people there. We knew this because we were the only two with the fore thought to bring chairs.

We took our place at the back of the line and soon there were 3588 people in line behind us. Directly behind us was one of those guys who always has his shirt off. The kind of guy who has a tribal tattoo. The kind of guy you see out playing beach volleyball. The guy with a car from Too Fast Too Furious and a very large stereo system. When Matt and I see those guys inevitably one of us will say,

“Looks like he’s compensating for a real or perceived inadequacy.”

The guy was flirting with the hooters waitresses behind him trying to be funny, flexing his muscles while pointing to the local land marks and bragging about how intense it is to be a nurse. When he saw Britney he started making fun of her to the women. They were all laughing and pointing. I didn’t figure out that she was who they were making fun of at first, when I finally did I shot him a dirty look. The kind that says, “keep it up and I will rally you dude.” He knocked it off.

Not that there wasn’t something very odd and funny about what was happening. Here is a brief bit of dialogue. All of the parentheses are what I was thinking.

“… and that is how I almost got on the real world New York. Oh and did I tell you about what I used to do?” She was saying to Matt.

(Say ‘YES’ damnit. Say that she has already told you…)
“No, what did you used to do?” Matt inquired.

(DAMNIT! MATT.)

She continued as if it didn’t matter how Matt replied, “I used to be a HA-OOOTERS waitress. That is after I had my baby.”

(OMG)

“Really?” Matt.

“Yep. And Now I am… If I don’t get this gig… I’m gonna be a STRRRIPER!”

(OMG… OMG… OMG…) I am no longer reading but I continue to stair at my book for fear that I will be engaged in this conversation.

“You like my boobs don’t you!” She wasn’t asking so much as accusing.

I let out a little snort. That is where I went wrong. She had heard me and realized that I was still there and so she turned to address us both.

“You know why my BOOBS are so big?” When she asked us this she cupped her hands in front of her cheast like she was palming basketballs then shook them (her hands) up and down as if to simulate what might happen if she were to take over Pam Andersons role on Bay Watch.

(Oh God please don’t tell us.)

“N.. Nu” Poor Matt hadn’t even gotten his “NO” out before she cleared up the mystery for us.

“Cause I am still breast feeding my baby.”

(AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! She still breast feeds….

Ahhhhhhh! Her Baby! Wait…. Is it her dog or her kid!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!)

I like to think that I can hide my real thoughts fairly well. When most folks would be screaming I am silent. Not that I don’t scream I just do it internally. And that is what I did. One great big long internal scream right out of psycho.

I shook my head in disbelief and looked over to see Matt doing the same.

This was the gist of our conversation for the next few hours.

Then Britney asked if we minded if she smoked.

“Nope”

“OK!” She said. Then she lit up a cig and began to do her Yoga. Right there in line. After she had smoked about half a pack and demonstrated that she could put her legs behind her head she went back to discussing her career goals with Matt. That is when we learned that she thought she was trying out for “Fear” on MTV and not Fear Factor. No problem, her “agent” must’ve sent her the wrong info.
It was getting warm and I was starting to actually drift off to sleep there in my chair (I hadn’t turned a page in my book in about an hour). I spot something out of the corner of my eye. There was this bulbous poly covered …(AHHHHHHHH! Her Butt is in my face! What is she doing? Oh God Oh God…)

She is bent over with her butt stuck in my face.

Then she grabs the waist band of her sweats and whips them down to her ankles!

(AHHHHHHHH! She is stripping! AHHHHHHHH!)

No such luck. She was merely stripping down to her HOT PANTS. Very, Very, Very tight hot pants.

Luckily she stopped there.

So there we are, Britney is going on and on about her acting/modeling career to Matt. I am sitting in my chair reading a book. That is what I do. I am an introvert and anti-social by nature and being around a lot of people exhausts me so I brought a book. When people see you reading a book they generally get the message that you don’t care to socialize. Any way I was reading my book and out of the corner of my eye I could see that Britney had sat down and was rubbing her eye.

She kept digging and digging at her eye.

Something in my gut said I should turn away. Like when you are a kid and you’re watching a movie with the Grand Parents and some little bit of side boob or ass flashes on the screen. I wanted to turn away, yet somehow I knew that I just wanted to see what was coming next.

I wouldn’t have long to wait.

Did I say that Matt was an EMT? Did I mention that he and I had been through some gruesome stuff? Remember the poo in the mouth?

Here is what happened. Britney was clutching something in her hands and was pushing it onto Matt encouraging him to “just touch it, just hold it for a while.”

Matt was backed up against the wall with his hands out as if he were a mime pushing an imaginary wall away. I think he was so stunned that he couldn’t get his words out - he could only mouth, “Nu Nu Nu Nu…”

And me?

(AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!)

What did she have in her hand?

IT WAS HER EYE!

Yeah, she had dug out her glass eye and wanted Matt to hold it. There it was. It wasn’t a complete eye ball, just like a shell of an eye ball. The part with the pupil and maybe 1/3 of the white part.

Oh, did I tell you that there was a long jiggling string of eye juice running from her eye socket to the glass eye in her hand?

(AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OMG she has a glass eye. )

(Hmmm. I have never seen what an empty eye socket looks like.)

Yeah, I looked.

(OOOHHHCRAPP! It is all black and dead in there! UGGG!)

She was trying to get Matt to touch it.

(Holy crap she is trying to hand Matt her glass eye! OH please take it!)

“Hey Matt she only wants you to hold her glass eye.”

“Umm, hey you know I really shouldn’t. I… I… I haven’t washed my hands I…”

“Oh. Ok. Well if you want to latter…” She seemed a little dejected.

“Yeah, maybe latter.” Matt assured her.

Soon after the glass eye incident some folks came and handed us little questionnaires to fill out. Beyond asking our names and places of birth (which we would find out later was the only important question on the page) the questions asked questions such as:

• Are you easily embarrassed? (No. Well… I didn’t used to be but now I don’t know. You see…) I go on to write in detail what had just occurred.
• What is your most embarrassing moment? (I was going to say that learning that “Britney’s breasts were so large because she was still breast feeding. But I suppose that if I end up reading this out loud in front of Britney - that will then become my MOST embarrassing moment.)
• What are you most afraid of? (Clowns. And now glass eyes.)

The line wrapped around ¾ of the building and lead up a flight of steps to a little out door seating area. On one side were some cement planters and opposite the planters were large mirrored windows. Gaylord (the male nurse) and his fans were making fun of Britney again, but this time under their breath so at least she couldn’t hear them and Britney was sitting on the cement planters.

“Darling?”

“Darling?” She was gesturing towards me.

“Um, yeah…?” I wasn’t sure what was coming next.

“Can you hand me my bag?”

(Whew) I wiped my brow and handed her the bag.

She took out a very large bottle of contact solution. I will leave you to figure out why she needed a large bottle of solution.

She rolled up the legs of her shorts, although they were already pretty high and rolled up the sleeves of her very tight t-shirt.

Then she did what I still can’t figure out.

“You think I am sexy… Don’t you!” She was looking at Gaylord when she said this.

Gaylord was stunned. It was awesome. He finally shut up.

Then she squirted the solution all over her body and began to rub it into her skin as if it were baby oil. She did it as if she was some sex kitten on a photo shoot. Then it got a little soft porn. I won’t detail it here but her hands went places.

(AHHHHHHH! Turn away, Turn AWAY!)

I turn my back quickly to avert my eyes and gaze at the mirrored windows.

(AHHHHH! Mirrored windows!)

There was her reflection in the mirror.

_________________________________________

There was a lot more that happened, but it was all along the lines of what I have just shared and to be honest I have forcibly blocked a lot of it out.

When we finally got to the interview here is what happened.

They took about a dozen of us in at a time. Britney went with a different group. They sat us down around a table with some “producers.” A very thin women was looking over our surveys. After about six seconds of small talk in which Matt and I found out that there was prize money involved we revealed that neither of us had actually SEEN the show. That probably wasn’t good info to share. Then she started trying to match surveys with faces. She made two piles which I now realize were “keepers” and “we will call you.”

Pretty much it was all about who would look the best in a bikini or with their shirt off.

Needless to say that Matt and I didn’t stand a chance.

What ever. We would have smoked everybody else in those little competitions. Too bad though. I could’ve used the dough.

We didn’t see Britney again.

Matt and I drove the entire two hours in absolute silence. Really, I don’t even remember the drive at all. Or the few hours after we arrived. It was all I could do to keep that image of this women in her short shorts breast feeding her baby/dog while soaking her glass eye in a cup of solution. While smoking. And doing Yoga.

Che Mart

As anyone who knows me, or has read this blog for a while might guess I tend to a have socialist leanings. I don't think I would call myself socialist... I just agree with Hoover that, "Capitalism is good, the problim is Capitalists."

You might also know that I find all things popular to be stupid. I just think that everyone should THINK FOR THEMSELVES instead of following the group. But too often we see someone "cool" do something and we imitate that action. Mindlessly.

A good example is the popularity of CHE shirts on the backs of white suburban middleclass kids. If those kids knew what he was about (killing white middle class folk) I am sure they would still wear his image on their shirts.

In the face of such obtuseness the only remedy is sarcasm.

So... I give you:Che-Mart: Che Guevara's Life & T-Shirts business

Enjoy.

A Poo Story: Or How I Came To Try Out For Fear Factor. A comedy in two acts.

Pour yourself a cold one and pull up your most comfortable chair. For I have a tale to tell of the wonderous adventure of two lads who once dreamed of 15 minutes of fame...

.

And of how they came to seek this adventure...

.

And of what befell them...

.

A tale filled with adventure and poo...

.

Act The First:

Tastes Like Chicken

Way back when I used to work for Mission Springs Christian Conference Center. I filled a lot of posts at MS; Counselor, Program, Red Hat, Ropes Guru, Garbage Truck Driver, and Horse Guy (at the now defunct Horse Ranch). They where even desperate enough to allow me to direct the adventure based camp.

All of which were experiences of mixed blessing. I made a lot of friends, had a ton of fun and many little adventures with my friends James and Cade and Dones.

I also got my first glimpse of the seedy underbelly of Christian Ministry. This was disillusioning, and I resented that at first. I think with in all of us, but particularly the idealists sliding towards full born cynics wish that we could return to those points in our history before we dared to peak behind the curtain and came away heart broken for our curiosity.

But as Freud said somewhere disillusionment is good because prior to that experience we were living with illusions. What I mean to say is that the disappointment I experienced while serving in Christian Camping and many other subsequent “Ministries” (CBC, and one church are the exceptions) and the resulting understanding that much if not all of the Christian industrial complex operates just like every other human institution - there is a lot of BS that over shadows the good.

But that is a post for another day.

Along with all the jobs I listed above I was also, once upon a time on the Maintenance Staff. Mission Springs has been around since the Coolidge administration. And while some parts of the place have been updated since then, much of the infrastructure has not. In particular the Water and Sewage systems have transmuted into a tangled maelstrom of rust upon rust. The state of disrepair of these pipes is a perfect metaphor for the phrase, “out of sight, out of mind.” To make matters worse through the years this neglect was compounded by every succeeding maintenance staffs efforts to repair these pipes when they finally give up the ghost and shoot a torrent of water or poo high enough in the air to make the proudest Yellowstone Geyser green with envy. This is because every week there are at least 300 people taking dumps some where on the Conference grounds. The deuces are stored in the main septic tank, then pumped up hill several hundred feet to the leach fields where they are eaten by bacteria and make the chaparral all green and pretty. The pumping is done by two very large and very powerful hydraulic pumps that keep all the lines under a tremendous pressure.

You see, the priority has always been (quite literally) on what is on the surface, much like most of modern Evangelicalism. So all of the major capital campaigns have focused on buildings that you can put a plaque on that reads, “The Funds For This Building Donated In The Loving Memory Of Mr. and Mrs. Olle Soren and Lena Valcoguftafnelsonsonson.” And I suppose that makes sense as no one wants their name emblazoned above a toilet … “This Pooper Dedicated In Loving Memory Of…”

So that is the situation. All the poop pipes, turd tubes, shit shafts, all the crap canals if you will where in disrepair. About once a month we would have a “blow out.” You could tell when a septic event was about to occur in a particular spot because the ground would heave up into a mound. Below the mound a poo flow had formed and was about to burst through the surface. When this happened we would dig a big hole and jump in and patch the broken pipe. All this ever really did was make the line blow out somewhere else. As I said I did this at least once a month. I would venture a conservative guess that those septic pipes are about 75% patches. This work always guaranteed one thing, everyone involved would come in contact in one way or another with fecal matter.

Pressurized fecal matter.

There was this one position on the Maintenance Staff that was coveted by absolutely no one. That would be my position as Night Host. This meant that I did all the jobs that the Maintenance Staff did, as well as serve the Conferees.

I would be fixing a pipe somewhere on the grounds and I’d get a call on the radio that

The 1st Full Faith Life Change Baptist Church of Turlok - "Women Thou Art Loosed" Women’s Retreat ‘02 needed more toilet paper.

Or that the Pacific Southwest Conference Men’s Advance Promise Keepers Point Man Conference wanted a fire built.

Or the Prayer of Jabez for Pastors, “Enlarging My Members Vision” Ministry Ministers Conference needed dry erase markers.

I would stop what I was doing and see to the needs of the group, which usually included being balled out for something petty and beyond my control (but always in The Spirit). . My hours were from 3pm to Midnight, but usually I wouldn’t be home before 2am. I got $9 an hour before taxes. We were always reminded, particularly when we would ask for a raise, that, “this is ministry.”

At any rate one sunny afternoon my buddy Matt and I were up to our elbows in shit fixing a pipe. We had thought we had adequately patched the pipe so we radioed for the pumps to be turned on. We wanted to make sure it was fixed before we buried the thing.

All was well and we were about to fill in our hole when we heard a little hissing noise.

We jumped back down into the hole to hear better.

We both leaned in, our faces nearly touching the pipe when what happened next I can only label as serendipitous.

Just as we both opened our mouths to call for the pumps to be shut off…

BOOOOOOSSSHHH!

Now, I don’t know what kind of studies have been done on the effects on the human immune system of the ingestion of pressurized human feces.

Let alone a mixture of feces from several hundred different sources not to mention the other things that are flushed down toilets or passed by the human bowel.

But I can tell you that I am certain it tastes nothing like chicken.

End Act The First

Please Stay tuned for Act The Second When...

...Matt and I travel to San Francisco to audition for Fear Factor

...We meet a 60 year old Britney Spears

...Matt is asked to hold a glass eye!

...And we both learn a valuable lesson about talking to strangers.

NPR : Hunger in America

On this day of feasting for many of us I just want to highlight this story broadcast on NPR concerning hunger in America.

So in between helpings of "pun-kin" pie and sweet tadors with melted marsh mallows on top or maybe after you wake from your tryptophan induced coma filled with dancing turkeys click the link and listen to the stories.

Happy Turkey Day.

See you back in a few days.


NPR : Hunger in America

And The Oscar Goes To

because i think it is funny and stupid and i want to share it with you...


go to here to Cades blog, click on the vid link and see me in my first (but not only) film roll.

i make no apologies.

For H

For H


too soon comes the snow
to blanket the earth
and put to sleep
our summer days

grey winter days
would tempt
faithless hearts to doubt
the memory of summer

but for that
great love
you have not forgoten the Sun
you have not lost faith in the breeze


He kissed your face
and caressed your arm
softly whispr’ing hope
of summers warmth

faithful heart you see
that soon comes the spring
and what Love removes
Love restores

but down here,
under the fall
the curse makes the truth
so hard to recieve

for H

Republicans and Democrats Take Sides Over Alito Nomination

WASHINGTON, Nov. 20 - The debate over the Supreme Court nomination of JudgeSamuel Alito escalated into a full-fledged fight in the Senate Wednesday as top Democrats sounded new alarms about his approach to choosing beer and Republicans warned that any effort to block a vote on him would be "crappy."

Judiciary Committee members said that they would like to once again meet individually with Supreme Court Nominee Samuel Alito. This the disclosure of documents released by the Justice Department in which Supereme Court Nominee Samuel Alito is alleged to state that Miller Lite “tastes great..”

"What we are learning of Mr. Alito is that he likes full bodied flavor over low calories." said Senator Harry Reid of Nevada, the Democratic leader, taking a sharply critical tone in his first speech about the nomination on the Senate floor. "We don't have to guess whether Judge Alito's description of himself in that memo would predict what kind of judge he would be. For the past 15 years, Judge Alito has been a ‘Tastes Great Conservative’ in the country.”

One political wag quipped, “Conservatives should be really really really happy. I mean, like they want to make like a big deal about the role of judges and how liberal judges are going all crazy on the constitution. Like, you know?”

Senate Democrats say they are skeptical of the Alito nomination after position papers the nominee wrote while serving as a lawyer in the Reagan Justice Department in the 80‘s. It is alleged that in the recently released papers the nominee stated that Miller Lite, “Tastes Great. I mean, duh! Of course.”

It has been settled doctrine with in the DNC that Miller Lite is “Less Filling.” “This is just obvious.” Stated an unnamed DNC source. “It is fundamental to the progressive, liberal life style that the most important thing to have in a beer is for it to be less filling. I mean, like come on, WE are the vegitarian party, the low carb diet party, so of course we would be the ’Less Filling’ party. This nominee is too extreme.”

Republican Senator Lindsey Graham voiced his support for Nominee Alito in a press conference late Monday after noon. “We are the party of the people, the true American party and what the people want, and what is more American is that what we enjoy about our beer is that it ‘tastes great.’ All that Liberal speak about ‘Less filling’ is just a bunch of vegie eating, tree hugging, low carb tripe.”

Senator Harry Reid took aim at a vow by Senator Bill Frist of Tennessee, the Republican leader, that if Democrats stopped Judge Alito's nomination with a filibuster - blocking the 60 votes needed under Senate rules to end debate - he "will not hesitate" to deploy a procedural tactic to eliminate the 60-vote requirement, a move known as "the nuclear option." Senator Frist also said that he “wouldn’t be their friend anymore.” He also said, “Democrats are wiener heads.”
Mr. Reid said in his floor speech that, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me. Besides, no one wants to be the majority leaders friend anyway.” Mr. Reid said, calling Mr. Frist's warnings "idle threats." It is "silly" to debate the idea two months before confirmation hearings “silly like his silly pants face“, he said.

Senate Democrats are concerned that after the appointment of Judge “Tastes Great” Roberts to the position of Chief Justice to the Supreme Court the progress towards the brewing of beers that are “Lite” will be set back 500 years. “Imagine” queries Senate Democrat Barbara Boxer “a day when the only choice for health conscious beer drinkers are all thick, heavy, dark and fattening ales and stouts. Is that really the kind of world we want to leave to our children?”
Senator ARLEN SPECTER (Republican, Pennsylvania; Judiciary Committee) had this response to Senator Clintons remarks. “For nearly 30 years the Supreme Court has been an activist court. But not only activist, but liberal activist. There has been a slow erosion of beer appreciation in this country and nominee Alito will bring a much needed balance to the court. Alito is not an activist, or extremist. He simply believes, along with the first brewers and in line with the German Purity Laws of 1516. But the Democrats want to convince you and me and the entire American public that the most important thing in a beer is that it is ‘Less Filling.’ What they want is for our beers to watered down, damn near clear, and empty of taste - so they can drink all the beer they like without thinking about the consequences. This flies in the face of the values of the majority of the American populace.

Pundits are not as concerned with the issue in debate. They are more concerned that this debate is distracting the attention of the media and therefore the public from the war in Iraq which is widely believed to have been started so that large corporate brewing companies may achieve two goals. That of discovering ancient brewing techniques believed to have been developed by the Babylonians between 7000 and 2500 years ago. As well as the possibility of a new market for their beers. Currently Muslim societies frown on the consumption of Alcoholic drinks. But with the democratization and Westernization of regions formerly ruled by Islamic Sharia Law entire cultures will be introduced to such American values as the Superbowl, NASCAR, and the BBQ. With those institutions will surely come cheap and tacky advertising and therefore a taste for watered down American beers.

Todd F. Gaziano, director of the Center for Legal and Judicial Studies at the Heritage Foundation, says, "Alito was saying, 'You might want to know my political bona fides.' In no way does he say his political views dictate his judicial philosophy." Or listen to Alito himself, who told Dianne Feinstein, "First of all, it was different then. ... I was new to the lawyering thing and I needed to earn some extra cash… Chip and Dales wasn’t hiring so I was auditioning for several commercials, one was Bud Lite the other was Miller Lite. I was seeking a job. It was a political job. And that was 1985. I'm now a judge, all grown up and I understand that it is important to have a beer that is both great tasting and less filling, you know. I've been on the circuit court for 15 years. And it's very different. I'm not an advocate. I don't give heed to my personal views." A White House official told Ted Kennedy, D.-Mass., "that he's an older person, that he's learned more, that he thinks he's a wiser person and he has a better grasp and understanding about not having an opinion about anything."

Meanwhile the rest of the world is watching.

“I just think you Americans don’t know your brauts from your sauerkraut. You drink puny tasteless empty low calorie biers. We drink Ales and Stouts from big steins. This is like arguing over who’s der Urin is yellower. Ja nein vielleicht? Wo ist die Toilette?” Said the German ambassador.