Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Final weeks!
Sorry guys, you still don't get the end of that story! Or the thing about Christian Music! HA HA HA you have no choice but to wait for finals to be over! (or for me to update in an attempt to procrastinate against studying)
Friday, November 14, 2008
And to think that I saw it on Matlock Street
I saw quiet the interesting event take place yesterday as I drove to my dad's office. As I approached an intersection, in the dedicated right turn lane, a little fender bender happened. It was nothing major, the pickup in the rear thought the car in the front should keep going through the red light and tail ended him a little. From what I could tell there was no major damage.
So a black guy get out of the truck in back and a white guy gets out of the car in front and they begin to exchange insurance information as just about any two young preppy males of my age group would, by shoving each other. Of course this isn't anything unusual to me and with the light being green and all I start to drive past them.
Right as I get next to them (I was in the lane immediately adjacent to them) the white guy decides that shoving isn't cutting it for him and proceeds to punch the black man. And, just like Pringles slogan says, once he popped (him on in the face) he just couldn't stop. The black guy tried quiet useless to punch the white guy back, but was immediately overwhelmed and the white guy proceeded to beat him to the ground between the cars, then stood over him and continued to beat down on this black guy.
At this point I'm just barely through the intersection. I can tell this white guy isn't gonna stop till the black guy is dead in all likelihood and drive down to the next light to pull a U-turn and get back there, hopefully with enough time to scare the white guy away with the black guy still breathing. By the time I get there, the white guy has already sped off in his car, and the black guy is getting helped by several (I saw at least 10) store employees who had run out to his defense.
Behold the fruit of a generation of idiots. In all honesty, I wouldn't have been surprised at all the see the white guy be one of the people who live across the hall from me at my Baptist College. They're always going on swearing sprees about how horrible this school is and how they hate everyone it. Maybe if their parents had loved them enough to discipline them. Anyone know the charges the white guy would be facing (other than a bogus hate crime charge that the news would try to stick to him of course)?
And as a side note? I think Grandma and I are the only people who semi-regularly update their blogs. I wonder what's going on with the rest of my family. Daniel knows I can't very well just call them ;)
So a black guy get out of the truck in back and a white guy gets out of the car in front and they begin to exchange insurance information as just about any two young preppy males of my age group would, by shoving each other. Of course this isn't anything unusual to me and with the light being green and all I start to drive past them.
Right as I get next to them (I was in the lane immediately adjacent to them) the white guy decides that shoving isn't cutting it for him and proceeds to punch the black man. And, just like Pringles slogan says, once he popped (him on in the face) he just couldn't stop. The black guy tried quiet useless to punch the white guy back, but was immediately overwhelmed and the white guy proceeded to beat him to the ground between the cars, then stood over him and continued to beat down on this black guy.
At this point I'm just barely through the intersection. I can tell this white guy isn't gonna stop till the black guy is dead in all likelihood and drive down to the next light to pull a U-turn and get back there, hopefully with enough time to scare the white guy away with the black guy still breathing. By the time I get there, the white guy has already sped off in his car, and the black guy is getting helped by several (I saw at least 10) store employees who had run out to his defense.
Behold the fruit of a generation of idiots. In all honesty, I wouldn't have been surprised at all the see the white guy be one of the people who live across the hall from me at my Baptist College. They're always going on swearing sprees about how horrible this school is and how they hate everyone it. Maybe if their parents had loved them enough to discipline them. Anyone know the charges the white guy would be facing (other than a bogus hate crime charge that the news would try to stick to him of course)?
And as a side note? I think Grandma and I are the only people who semi-regularly update their blogs. I wonder what's going on with the rest of my family. Daniel knows I can't very well just call them ;)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Hey remember that story?
You know it was a story I was doing back in March about a dream I had? Well I hadn't forgotten about it, just didn't have time to finish it. I'm gonna do that this week (or at least try). So if you want you can refresh your memories with
Part 1
and
Part 2
Part 3 is posted here with some changes and a little extra at the end. I basically stopped it before I was ready to stop it last time, and took it on to the point that I wished to end this section. Also fixed were spelling mistakes (the ones I noticed a least) and some continuity/word changes to make it flow better with the rest of the story.
So, without further delay, Part 3:
I stepped out onto the harsh, unforgiving area surrounding the mountain and immediately felt the unforgiving wind attack. Relentlessly, the wind tore at my skin and bit at my eyes. Raising my arms to shield my face, I approached the mountain and began to search for a path over it. Its jagged terrain seemed equally inhospitable no matter where I looked. The mountain slopes seemed to have been forcefully discharged from the Earth at a daunting angle as if it had been rejected by the ground that once harbored it. Though a part of me desired to find a less severe path, the longer I spent on the scorched ground, the less my makeshift shoes protected me from the severe heat. Already I had to constantly swap my weight from foot to foot to keep either from burning.
Driven only by my determination to obey the lamb, I stepped onto the mountain, grasped a rough outcropping and began to scale what seemed to be as good as a place as any. My efforts were quickly rewarded as I climbed above the wisps of dust and left the heat of that unforgiving ground behind. My victory was short lived, however, as the intensity of the wind rapidly increased. Each inch I climbed was a painful battle that taxed my weary muscles against the downward gusts that threatened to tear me away from the mountainside and fling me into the air.
Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself up the mountainside. After what seemed to be an eternity, I found myself past the extreme slope at the base of the mountain and before a great, winding path as unwelcoming and devoid of life as the base of the mountain. I found a spot relatively free of wind and lay gasping for breath and assuaging my weary muscles.
Having regained some strength, I stood and peered over the wall I had just scaled expecting to find a great distance between myself and the ground below. To my dismay, I found that I had only come 10 yards at most from the mountain base. Dumbfounded, I began to struggle along the craggy path before me as I silently wept.
Each step I took along the path was fraught with pain and danger as my foot slid across the uneven ground. The shoes that had protected me against the heat now threatened to end my life as they leaked what little water they still contained. Though I tried to step carefully, the ground seemed to be ever changing. What I thought was flat ground actually tilted to the side. What I thought was slanted was actually a jagged point that nipped at the soles of my feet. Each stumbled threatened to send me tumbling all the way to the base of the mountain. No matter how I stepped, my feet would either find a sharp point or slide into a pinching outcropping.
As I stubbornly pressed on, I finally began to grown thirsty and hungry. I searched for some gathering of water that could have pooled from some previous rain, but despite the dark clouds that loomed above, I felt that the mountain had never been touched by the gentle kiss of rain. I wearily plodded onward hopping that the end of this mountain would reveal an area like the field I had left. It was then that I became keenly aware of time’s relentless march. Where before I was certain that many days had passed while I wondered in that beautiful field without ever growing tired, I now needed frequently increasing breaks.
Abruptly, I found myself at the precipice of an intimidating cliff. Gazing out, I saw an endless, flat expanse. Like the mountain, the expanse was devoid of life. Long dead trees were speckled amidst a sea of blood red sand. At once, I felt both a surge of hope at finding such plentiful wood to burn and a sinking despair that I could find no way down this cliff nor a way back up burdened with wood.
For a moment, it seemed as if the wind’s relentless torrent against my skin abated and instead wisped around me gently as if trying to caress my face or wipe the sweat from my brow. In that moment, the wind seemed to carry a fragrance that made my heart leap. I felt as if I should know this smell, like the scent of a grandfather or grandmother, but the moment was fleeting and left me feeling bitter and abandoned.
Resolved to build a fire, I began to descend the wall of the cliff. Each handhold tore and pinched at my skin, bit and gnawed at my toes, jarred my knees and scraped my face. I had hardly begun my descent when a gust of wind lifted me up and flung me into the air.
Time held its breath for me as for one perilous moment gravity failed to assert its hold over me. Then slowly, like many tiny hands reaching up and grasping at my clothes, I began to fall. Quicker, faster the ground rushed up at me. In vain, I grasped for the wall, but no matter how I moved, it remained just beyond my grasp. With one final desperate lunge, I reached for the wall. Despite all odds, my hand managed to find a hold and my body slammed into cliff face with stunning speed that caused my head to strike a rock jutting out from the wall. The world spun as I hopelessly struggled to regain my senses.
I managed to clear my head just in time to realize that when struck my head, I released my grip and was presently falling head first toward the sandy expanse. Before I had time to try anything, I hit the ground, and the world exploded into stars, then immediately sunk into a black, soundless darkness.
Part 1
and
Part 2
Part 3 is posted here with some changes and a little extra at the end. I basically stopped it before I was ready to stop it last time, and took it on to the point that I wished to end this section. Also fixed were spelling mistakes (the ones I noticed a least) and some continuity/word changes to make it flow better with the rest of the story.
So, without further delay, Part 3:
I stepped out onto the harsh, unforgiving area surrounding the mountain and immediately felt the unforgiving wind attack. Relentlessly, the wind tore at my skin and bit at my eyes. Raising my arms to shield my face, I approached the mountain and began to search for a path over it. Its jagged terrain seemed equally inhospitable no matter where I looked. The mountain slopes seemed to have been forcefully discharged from the Earth at a daunting angle as if it had been rejected by the ground that once harbored it. Though a part of me desired to find a less severe path, the longer I spent on the scorched ground, the less my makeshift shoes protected me from the severe heat. Already I had to constantly swap my weight from foot to foot to keep either from burning.
Driven only by my determination to obey the lamb, I stepped onto the mountain, grasped a rough outcropping and began to scale what seemed to be as good as a place as any. My efforts were quickly rewarded as I climbed above the wisps of dust and left the heat of that unforgiving ground behind. My victory was short lived, however, as the intensity of the wind rapidly increased. Each inch I climbed was a painful battle that taxed my weary muscles against the downward gusts that threatened to tear me away from the mountainside and fling me into the air.
Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself up the mountainside. After what seemed to be an eternity, I found myself past the extreme slope at the base of the mountain and before a great, winding path as unwelcoming and devoid of life as the base of the mountain. I found a spot relatively free of wind and lay gasping for breath and assuaging my weary muscles.
Having regained some strength, I stood and peered over the wall I had just scaled expecting to find a great distance between myself and the ground below. To my dismay, I found that I had only come 10 yards at most from the mountain base. Dumbfounded, I began to struggle along the craggy path before me as I silently wept.
Each step I took along the path was fraught with pain and danger as my foot slid across the uneven ground. The shoes that had protected me against the heat now threatened to end my life as they leaked what little water they still contained. Though I tried to step carefully, the ground seemed to be ever changing. What I thought was flat ground actually tilted to the side. What I thought was slanted was actually a jagged point that nipped at the soles of my feet. Each stumbled threatened to send me tumbling all the way to the base of the mountain. No matter how I stepped, my feet would either find a sharp point or slide into a pinching outcropping.
As I stubbornly pressed on, I finally began to grown thirsty and hungry. I searched for some gathering of water that could have pooled from some previous rain, but despite the dark clouds that loomed above, I felt that the mountain had never been touched by the gentle kiss of rain. I wearily plodded onward hopping that the end of this mountain would reveal an area like the field I had left. It was then that I became keenly aware of time’s relentless march. Where before I was certain that many days had passed while I wondered in that beautiful field without ever growing tired, I now needed frequently increasing breaks.
Abruptly, I found myself at the precipice of an intimidating cliff. Gazing out, I saw an endless, flat expanse. Like the mountain, the expanse was devoid of life. Long dead trees were speckled amidst a sea of blood red sand. At once, I felt both a surge of hope at finding such plentiful wood to burn and a sinking despair that I could find no way down this cliff nor a way back up burdened with wood.
For a moment, it seemed as if the wind’s relentless torrent against my skin abated and instead wisped around me gently as if trying to caress my face or wipe the sweat from my brow. In that moment, the wind seemed to carry a fragrance that made my heart leap. I felt as if I should know this smell, like the scent of a grandfather or grandmother, but the moment was fleeting and left me feeling bitter and abandoned.
Resolved to build a fire, I began to descend the wall of the cliff. Each handhold tore and pinched at my skin, bit and gnawed at my toes, jarred my knees and scraped my face. I had hardly begun my descent when a gust of wind lifted me up and flung me into the air.
Time held its breath for me as for one perilous moment gravity failed to assert its hold over me. Then slowly, like many tiny hands reaching up and grasping at my clothes, I began to fall. Quicker, faster the ground rushed up at me. In vain, I grasped for the wall, but no matter how I moved, it remained just beyond my grasp. With one final desperate lunge, I reached for the wall. Despite all odds, my hand managed to find a hold and my body slammed into cliff face with stunning speed that caused my head to strike a rock jutting out from the wall. The world spun as I hopelessly struggled to regain my senses.
I managed to clear my head just in time to realize that when struck my head, I released my grip and was presently falling head first toward the sandy expanse. Before I had time to try anything, I hit the ground, and the world exploded into stars, then immediately sunk into a black, soundless darkness.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The end of an era
Last night two things of sorrow note took place. If you don't like long political rhetoric, you might as well skip on to the second thing, it's down a little ways and the paragraph is started out bold. The first, and more widely known, was that America elected it's first black president. The sorrow of this situation is not that he's black, but that his election was due largely to the fact that he was black. I can think of no greater racism than to vote for someone based on the color of their skin, regardless of how that swings your vote. What makes this even more sad is that Obama is not particularly impressive as an individual. The things he was saying and the stances he was making would not have won him the democrat ticket let alone the presidency had he been white.
About a month ago I made two speculations. The first was that I was quiet convinced that Obama would only loose if the democrat vote was split by a surge of write ins for Hilary. The second was that the greatest support for Obama would come not from higher age groups (indeed those are split more or less 50-50 with most of Senator Obama's votes coming from minority or African-American based populaces), but rather from those who are in the 18-21 age range. Those people who 4 years ago were 14-17 and have for the past four years seen nothing but South Park, Family Guy, and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart representations of President Bush. For four years this age demographic's mind has been utterly poisoned with the presentation of a man (and by extension political party) that is impossibly dumb. So it is no surprise that this age range DID vote overwhelming in favor of Obama. To be perfelect blunt, the democrat party could have nominated a block of cheese and gotten an equally strong turn out.
I now make three suppositions.
1) Obama on the whole is a political pansy. (That's not the supposition part, that's a statement of fact based on looking at his political career, a completely lackluster record until his campaign for presidency when people suddenly began to sing his praise despite any evidence to support such praise.) Therefore I will be so bold to venture that the true power of the next 4-8 years will not be the president but rather the party leader in Congress.
2) Due largely to the efforts of the current administration to control the weak economy left by Clinton and the his foolish law that made it illegal for a bank to not give a loan based on credit history, Obama's term in office will be fondly remembered as a good time for America, but the person who inherits the Presidency from him will be faced with a second even more disastrous economic crisis than we are currently in.
3) For the next several elections it will be impossible for a non-minority to gain Presidency. Now, I must stress again that I have no issue with an African-American, Latino, or Asian being President, my qualm lies in them becoming President because of their ethnicity, furthermore I am equally opposed to a Caucasian becoming President only because his opponent was not Caucasian.
However, none of this is why it is the end of an era for me. For the second thing of sorrow that occurred last night was the death of Michael Crichton known for such books as "Jurassic Park, Lost World, Sphere, Prey, Congo, et el" and movies by the same title as well as "Twister". Michael Crichton has been a long time favored author of mine whose works I have long read and collected.
While it is certainly sorrowful that his life (of 66 years) came to an end last night due to cancer. The truly sad thing for me is his undeniably hostile (or at best indifferent) view of God. Indeed, it's hard to find a science fiction write who believes in God. It's almost a statement of pure contradiction in fact! After all, every sci fi writer believes on some level that man is inherently good and has the power within himself for self-improvement; that the notion of a high (non-alien) being is completely ludicrous. So it was that last night, to my sorrow, Michael Crichton joined the ranks of my other adored sci fi writers such as Ray Bradbury and Isaac Asimov in coming to know the pure horror of the wrath of God poured out on those who reject Christ's purifying work on our behalf.
About a month ago I made two speculations. The first was that I was quiet convinced that Obama would only loose if the democrat vote was split by a surge of write ins for Hilary. The second was that the greatest support for Obama would come not from higher age groups (indeed those are split more or less 50-50 with most of Senator Obama's votes coming from minority or African-American based populaces), but rather from those who are in the 18-21 age range. Those people who 4 years ago were 14-17 and have for the past four years seen nothing but South Park, Family Guy, and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart representations of President Bush. For four years this age demographic's mind has been utterly poisoned with the presentation of a man (and by extension political party) that is impossibly dumb. So it is no surprise that this age range DID vote overwhelming in favor of Obama. To be perfelect blunt, the democrat party could have nominated a block of cheese and gotten an equally strong turn out.
I now make three suppositions.
1) Obama on the whole is a political pansy. (That's not the supposition part, that's a statement of fact based on looking at his political career, a completely lackluster record until his campaign for presidency when people suddenly began to sing his praise despite any evidence to support such praise.) Therefore I will be so bold to venture that the true power of the next 4-8 years will not be the president but rather the party leader in Congress.
2) Due largely to the efforts of the current administration to control the weak economy left by Clinton and the his foolish law that made it illegal for a bank to not give a loan based on credit history, Obama's term in office will be fondly remembered as a good time for America, but the person who inherits the Presidency from him will be faced with a second even more disastrous economic crisis than we are currently in.
3) For the next several elections it will be impossible for a non-minority to gain Presidency. Now, I must stress again that I have no issue with an African-American, Latino, or Asian being President, my qualm lies in them becoming President because of their ethnicity, furthermore I am equally opposed to a Caucasian becoming President only because his opponent was not Caucasian.
However, none of this is why it is the end of an era for me. For the second thing of sorrow that occurred last night was the death of Michael Crichton known for such books as "Jurassic Park, Lost World, Sphere, Prey, Congo, et el" and movies by the same title as well as "Twister". Michael Crichton has been a long time favored author of mine whose works I have long read and collected.
While it is certainly sorrowful that his life (of 66 years) came to an end last night due to cancer. The truly sad thing for me is his undeniably hostile (or at best indifferent) view of God. Indeed, it's hard to find a science fiction write who believes in God. It's almost a statement of pure contradiction in fact! After all, every sci fi writer believes on some level that man is inherently good and has the power within himself for self-improvement; that the notion of a high (non-alien) being is completely ludicrous. So it was that last night, to my sorrow, Michael Crichton joined the ranks of my other adored sci fi writers such as Ray Bradbury and Isaac Asimov in coming to know the pure horror of the wrath of God poured out on those who reject Christ's purifying work on our behalf.
Friday, October 31, 2008
The interesting month of November
First of all, I have not forgotten about following up the music post. I just have not had sufficient time to sit down and coherently write out my reasoning as it is based on Biblical fact (that's worth taking time for). I assure you, it is forthcoming.
I find it interesting how events in our lives seem to gravitate towards a specific month. Almost as if every year, around the same time, we decide to get back into trouble. Of course, the simple fact of the matter is that since there are only 12 months, if something is going to go wrong in a year, there's an 8.3% chance it will land in any given month. And since usually more than one thing of noteworthiness happens in any given year, the act of reflecting back on specific months gives the illusion of any one month being, "a bad-luck month".
Regardless, November, while not being a bad-luck month, is certainly a month of happenings in my life. So it is, with my birthday rapidly approaching, that I find myself looking back over my Novembers.
As I just mentioned, November is my birth month, but disregarding that, the first thing of noteworthiness (for today at any rate) that occurred in November took place 6 years ago. I had a very good friend of the time who I admittedly held some romantic interest in. Well, not really, but I certainly interpreted them as such. It was a time of darkness in my life when I despaired of living. My friend moved off to college and I kept in regular contact with her. One night she mentioned how it seemed I lived each day simply to make it to the next. I was struck by this truth and could not deny the only reason I woke up in the mornings was because I had not yet died. I spent the whole night contemplating how I was living my life in relation to how the bible instructed I should be living it and came to the conclusion that it was time for a change.
I also realized at this time that the only feelings I had for her were strictly friendly, but having shut out everyone so firmly since Mark's death I called it love. Freed from the burden of this false label, I decided to take a trip up to her school to tell her how a simple statement had turned my life around. She was thrilled I was coming to her college and expressed a hope that I would attend school there so we could hang out more, she further went on to mention how I always seemed to called at just the right time to cheer her up.
When I got there, however, things took a sudden sour turn. While playing a game of 8 ball, with a man no one knew, he calmly told me my friend was dating this guy, and left. When I asked her about it, she told me it was none of my business, and that we were no longer friends. It is perhaps the single greatest regret of my life that our friendship was lost over a simple lack of communication.
November was also the month my cousin committed suicide. An event that reminded me how to cry and kept me from visiting another friend over Thanksgiving; a fact that I was never really forgiven for.
November was the time that I had to leave Countryside for a while a couple years back as a member of the church began spreading lies about me to her friends and family to cover her own sin. She never did come clean about it although all was forgiven long ago.
Though it was not in November, I started dating Amy very close to November, and though it will embarrass her greatly for me to say so, it was in November when I first kissed her ;)
And while it was also not in November, I would like to mention (while being reflective and what-not) that it was not too long ago that the 1 year anniversary of my grandfather's death rolled by. I will forever lament that my children will never get to know their great-grandfather and see all the amazing things he built for us while they were fresh and taken care of.
It was also the 1 year anniversary of learning my dad has cancer. It has been an amazing year of learning for my parents and myself as we come to help one another out and learn how to live with this disease. My stance has not changed one bit from the first moment I learned the news. I still wholly believe that God will push the cancer into remission and even if He does not, cancer is not what will end my father's life. My dad getting cancer did not catch God by surprise, it did not shorten the numbers of his days. From the very beginning, God and God alone was going to be the One to call my father home. It may be a little morbid to talk about how I think my dad is going to die (especially when I word it like that), but as I already stated, I have complete faith that God has control my father's body, and while it may be hard for the moment, there is a point to the suffering, the least of which was allowing me to serve their needs this summer time.
Yes, November is quite the interesting month.
I find it interesting how events in our lives seem to gravitate towards a specific month. Almost as if every year, around the same time, we decide to get back into trouble. Of course, the simple fact of the matter is that since there are only 12 months, if something is going to go wrong in a year, there's an 8.3% chance it will land in any given month. And since usually more than one thing of noteworthiness happens in any given year, the act of reflecting back on specific months gives the illusion of any one month being, "a bad-luck month".
Regardless, November, while not being a bad-luck month, is certainly a month of happenings in my life. So it is, with my birthday rapidly approaching, that I find myself looking back over my Novembers.
As I just mentioned, November is my birth month, but disregarding that, the first thing of noteworthiness (for today at any rate) that occurred in November took place 6 years ago. I had a very good friend of the time who I admittedly held some romantic interest in. Well, not really, but I certainly interpreted them as such. It was a time of darkness in my life when I despaired of living. My friend moved off to college and I kept in regular contact with her. One night she mentioned how it seemed I lived each day simply to make it to the next. I was struck by this truth and could not deny the only reason I woke up in the mornings was because I had not yet died. I spent the whole night contemplating how I was living my life in relation to how the bible instructed I should be living it and came to the conclusion that it was time for a change.
I also realized at this time that the only feelings I had for her were strictly friendly, but having shut out everyone so firmly since Mark's death I called it love. Freed from the burden of this false label, I decided to take a trip up to her school to tell her how a simple statement had turned my life around. She was thrilled I was coming to her college and expressed a hope that I would attend school there so we could hang out more, she further went on to mention how I always seemed to called at just the right time to cheer her up.
When I got there, however, things took a sudden sour turn. While playing a game of 8 ball, with a man no one knew, he calmly told me my friend was dating this guy, and left. When I asked her about it, she told me it was none of my business, and that we were no longer friends. It is perhaps the single greatest regret of my life that our friendship was lost over a simple lack of communication.
November was also the month my cousin committed suicide. An event that reminded me how to cry and kept me from visiting another friend over Thanksgiving; a fact that I was never really forgiven for.
November was the time that I had to leave Countryside for a while a couple years back as a member of the church began spreading lies about me to her friends and family to cover her own sin. She never did come clean about it although all was forgiven long ago.
Though it was not in November, I started dating Amy very close to November, and though it will embarrass her greatly for me to say so, it was in November when I first kissed her ;)
And while it was also not in November, I would like to mention (while being reflective and what-not) that it was not too long ago that the 1 year anniversary of my grandfather's death rolled by. I will forever lament that my children will never get to know their great-grandfather and see all the amazing things he built for us while they were fresh and taken care of.
It was also the 1 year anniversary of learning my dad has cancer. It has been an amazing year of learning for my parents and myself as we come to help one another out and learn how to live with this disease. My stance has not changed one bit from the first moment I learned the news. I still wholly believe that God will push the cancer into remission and even if He does not, cancer is not what will end my father's life. My dad getting cancer did not catch God by surprise, it did not shorten the numbers of his days. From the very beginning, God and God alone was going to be the One to call my father home. It may be a little morbid to talk about how I think my dad is going to die (especially when I word it like that), but as I already stated, I have complete faith that God has control my father's body, and while it may be hard for the moment, there is a point to the suffering, the least of which was allowing me to serve their needs this summer time.
Yes, November is quite the interesting month.
Monday, October 27, 2008
2 years!
Though I do not have time to fully list how wonderful my girlfriend Amy is, and all the various things she has done for me over the past two years, I must take a moment to write a simple happy 2 years of dating (it was on Saturday)! And get right back to studying Chinese for my midterm tomorrow!
Monday, October 13, 2008
The answer to my little music poll!
The answer, to be concise, is that neither of them are Christian songs. Now, to be fair, both of these songs play on Christian radio stations. The first one (How to save a life) plays on just about every Christian station I've heard. The second one plays on a local Christian Rock station solely. So why aren't the Christian? To be blunt, the first song being played on Christians stations is a mere perversion of the Lyrics. They say that they "pray to God" but it's not an actual acknowledgment of God or of His authority of the hearts of man. When they use that phrase, it has as much to do with actually praying to God as the phrase "Heaven forbid" has to do with heaven. The artist who sings it is unquestionably secular, it's not a Christian song.
The second song is by an indie (Christian) band. After some searching I discovered that the band claims the song is about ending spiritual stagnancy. Wow... just wow, that's some mighty fine between the lines reading. It a purely nonsensical song with a bunch of teens screaming into a microphone. That hardly classifies as Christian.
The reason I posted the little music test is because I've been having some real difficulties with (so-called) Christian music for about... 2 years now (hey that's how long I've been going to DBU... the little coincidences of life). My problem with Christian music has recently resurfaced as the local Christian Rock station, which used to be an amazing station with genuine Christ centered music ranging from Larry Norman's "Why should the devil have all the good music?" (yes, I file that under Christian music) to Nailed Promise's "Stand Tall" (Nailed Promise is a heavy metal band).
If, however, you were to listen to the station today, you would find yourself wondering if you had somehow landed on a really mediocre rock station.
Since I was young, I have contended that it is not the music that makes a song Christian or not. A popular TV show actually pokes fun of this in one of their episodes.
Ned : “Where’s your backing band?”
Girl : “They left the Christian music scene and went mainstream - you just use the word ‘baby’ instead of Jesus”
(yeah, that's a Simpson's quote for you, and that's the sound of my mom dying of shame that I would both know a Simpson's quote and that I would actually use a Simpson's quote). But that's not a problem. The division of secular and Christianity is CHRIST, so of course that will be the difference in who we sing our songs about! After all, the Hymns we sing today were done to the same style as the secular songs of their time period. The problem is with modern Christian bands, the quote becomes
Girl : “They left the Christian music scene and went mainstream - you just imply a girl instead of imply Jesus"
We've done away with actually ascribing anything to God and made simply clip off a wink under our hats in God's direction when no one is looking.
Now just for the record, I have nothing wrong with listen to secular music (provided of course it's not a song that is just slapping the face of Jesus with its every word). Neither do I have a problem with Christian bands singing fun, random, or silly songs. The problem I wish to address is that our "Christian" songs have become dominated with these types of songs and Christ is no longer anywhere to be found (with some small exception).
Sadly, on the other end of the spectrum are the Christian praise and worship songs that the DBU chapel loves so much that is mindless repetition and man centered manipulation.
So, in the next little bit here, I'm gonna take a look at what the Bible has to say about Christian Music and it's place in our lives.
The second song is by an indie (Christian) band. After some searching I discovered that the band claims the song is about ending spiritual stagnancy. Wow... just wow, that's some mighty fine between the lines reading. It a purely nonsensical song with a bunch of teens screaming into a microphone. That hardly classifies as Christian.
The reason I posted the little music test is because I've been having some real difficulties with (so-called) Christian music for about... 2 years now (hey that's how long I've been going to DBU... the little coincidences of life). My problem with Christian music has recently resurfaced as the local Christian Rock station, which used to be an amazing station with genuine Christ centered music ranging from Larry Norman's "Why should the devil have all the good music?" (yes, I file that under Christian music) to Nailed Promise's "Stand Tall" (Nailed Promise is a heavy metal band).
If, however, you were to listen to the station today, you would find yourself wondering if you had somehow landed on a really mediocre rock station.
Since I was young, I have contended that it is not the music that makes a song Christian or not. A popular TV show actually pokes fun of this in one of their episodes.
Ned : “Where’s your backing band?”
Girl : “They left the Christian music scene and went mainstream - you just use the word ‘baby’ instead of Jesus”
(yeah, that's a Simpson's quote for you, and that's the sound of my mom dying of shame that I would both know a Simpson's quote and that I would actually use a Simpson's quote). But that's not a problem. The division of secular and Christianity is CHRIST, so of course that will be the difference in who we sing our songs about! After all, the Hymns we sing today were done to the same style as the secular songs of their time period. The problem is with modern Christian bands, the quote becomes
Girl : “They left the Christian music scene and went mainstream - you just imply a girl instead of imply Jesus"
We've done away with actually ascribing anything to God and made simply clip off a wink under our hats in God's direction when no one is looking.
Now just for the record, I have nothing wrong with listen to secular music (provided of course it's not a song that is just slapping the face of Jesus with its every word). Neither do I have a problem with Christian bands singing fun, random, or silly songs. The problem I wish to address is that our "Christian" songs have become dominated with these types of songs and Christ is no longer anywhere to be found (with some small exception).
Sadly, on the other end of the spectrum are the Christian praise and worship songs that the DBU chapel loves so much that is mindless repetition and man centered manipulation.
So, in the next little bit here, I'm gonna take a look at what the Bible has to say about Christian Music and it's place in our lives.
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