After church today I was reading some various poems by Linford Detweiler and I realized what my biggest concern is. That my life won't be a good story. Not that I desperately want it told to others, but that there won't be anything in it worth telling others.
Things I haven't done yet that I wish I would have:
1. Learned to play the piano.
2. Learned to play the guitar
3. Visited Europe
4. Saved someone
5. Figured myself out
6. Learned how to be charitable
7. Stopped making lists
P.S. I don't really know if any of this post is true. I just felt like typing it.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Explanation
I have to explain the below post. I had this phrase pop into my mind one morning when I woke up about 4 months ago. It was the first four lines of the following bit of poetry/prose. As I went through my morning routine it just kept going through my mind and it evolved a bit. The imageery for the first section of verse also crept in there. This all happened without much concious thought on my own behalf.
Eventually I decided I should write this down, just for the fun of it. As I was writing it down, pretty much everything else came out in one take. I sat on it for a couple months then, remembering it, went back and re-read it. I started doing some editing until I got to the point where I found I couldn't decide if certain things should be added, removed or changed. That's the point I find myself at now. SO, your job is to tell me what you think of this bit of poetry? verse? I don't know what to call it. As is typical of most things I write it is rather heavy handed, so bear that in mind as you read over it. Also, this is the first thing I've ever workshopped, so be gentle yet constructive.
Eventually I decided I should write this down, just for the fun of it. As I was writing it down, pretty much everything else came out in one take. I sat on it for a couple months then, remembering it, went back and re-read it. I started doing some editing until I got to the point where I found I couldn't decide if certain things should be added, removed or changed. That's the point I find myself at now. SO, your job is to tell me what you think of this bit of poetry? verse? I don't know what to call it. As is typical of most things I write it is rather heavy handed, so bear that in mind as you read over it. Also, this is the first thing I've ever workshopped, so be gentle yet constructive.
Gray Bulb
There is no day, there is no night.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks.
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.
They came with torches flickering. Casting their ever changing shadows they mobbed the town square, progressing from lamp post to lamp post. As each bulb was changed the town slowly took on a subtely different look. The corners of the benches looked more dull, the various signs were less defined, the white washed fences were more bland but the shadows in the alley didn’t look so menacing in contrast. One by one, as the lamp lenses were replaced the people hurried out of sight. I had recognized a couple of my Professors, the local Bank Manager, the Mayor and several Councilmen, even a Local pastor among the mob.
Throughout history we’ve tried different bulbs. Somehow though, we remain conscious of that first one. We found it in the lamp when we first went searching. We weren’t happy with how bright it was. It made things we wanted look so unflattering. It caused us to see details and differences. There were hideous shadows while it was in.
In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
So we change the bulb like changing the guard. Looking for the most comfortable light, the most flattering glow. Bulbs of Myth and gods, of emotions and flesh, bulbs of Enlightenment and Reason, and now the Gray Bulb.
There are some who decide to try the original bulb again, either out of confusion or desperation. When they do they find the light so bright as to be stark. Light pours out of cracks in the lantern. It pierces through the few clear spots in the lens, surrounded by dirt and disgust. We couldn’t see the dirt with the other bulbs in. Least ways, not enough to be offended.
What would happen if someone lived their life such that their lantern wasn’t rusted and dirty? What if this same person had the original bulb in as well? It would be a light we would each recognize from before we had displaced it from our own lanterns. We would all react differently. Some would recoil and be bitter, like having someone flip the light switch when you have been in a dark room for too long. Some, the feeling of recognition so strong in them, would hesitate then warm up to him. Others would for whatever reason be inexplicably drawn to him like moths to a lamp.
Odds are we would all recognize something in that light: Something that made us all nostalgic for who can remember what, Something that would enrage the parts of us that have grown to need darkness and ignorance to thrive. We would then have to chose how we’d respond.
This light would remind us of other times we had glimpsed it before: The voice of one calling in the desert, A glowing face descending a mountain, A glow given off by a bush, A city of light on a hill, A million stars pulsing in unison as an absurd covenant is made.
We see in the response of our culture today their method of coping. Abandoning this clarity and connection to all that is their heritage, they once again search for just the right bulb. And for many today it is the Gray Bulb of relativism with its anemic light. By its light black and white turn to so many shades of gray. Colors are subdued. There are no harsh shadows. Apparently the loss of all that is bright and strong and defined, joyful and sharp is acceptable so long as there is no darkness to threaten its shadows.
This bulb is the last resort of a people afraid of the shadows. When one cannot celebrate the idea of shadow, the only recourse is to make them so ill defined, there is no point in pointing them out. Unfortunately now everything is a potential shadow. It is just too hard to stund up to the fear of the shadows. If this attitude is embraced, then the ultimate destination is one without contrasts, no darkness, but also no light. Should we have to sacrifice the light to abolish the dark?
In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
“There is no day, there is no night.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.”
We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks,
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks.
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.
They came with torches flickering. Casting their ever changing shadows they mobbed the town square, progressing from lamp post to lamp post. As each bulb was changed the town slowly took on a subtely different look. The corners of the benches looked more dull, the various signs were less defined, the white washed fences were more bland but the shadows in the alley didn’t look so menacing in contrast. One by one, as the lamp lenses were replaced the people hurried out of sight. I had recognized a couple of my Professors, the local Bank Manager, the Mayor and several Councilmen, even a Local pastor among the mob.
Throughout history we’ve tried different bulbs. Somehow though, we remain conscious of that first one. We found it in the lamp when we first went searching. We weren’t happy with how bright it was. It made things we wanted look so unflattering. It caused us to see details and differences. There were hideous shadows while it was in.
In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
So we change the bulb like changing the guard. Looking for the most comfortable light, the most flattering glow. Bulbs of Myth and gods, of emotions and flesh, bulbs of Enlightenment and Reason, and now the Gray Bulb.
There are some who decide to try the original bulb again, either out of confusion or desperation. When they do they find the light so bright as to be stark. Light pours out of cracks in the lantern. It pierces through the few clear spots in the lens, surrounded by dirt and disgust. We couldn’t see the dirt with the other bulbs in. Least ways, not enough to be offended.
What would happen if someone lived their life such that their lantern wasn’t rusted and dirty? What if this same person had the original bulb in as well? It would be a light we would each recognize from before we had displaced it from our own lanterns. We would all react differently. Some would recoil and be bitter, like having someone flip the light switch when you have been in a dark room for too long. Some, the feeling of recognition so strong in them, would hesitate then warm up to him. Others would for whatever reason be inexplicably drawn to him like moths to a lamp.
Odds are we would all recognize something in that light: Something that made us all nostalgic for who can remember what, Something that would enrage the parts of us that have grown to need darkness and ignorance to thrive. We would then have to chose how we’d respond.
This light would remind us of other times we had glimpsed it before: The voice of one calling in the desert, A glowing face descending a mountain, A glow given off by a bush, A city of light on a hill, A million stars pulsing in unison as an absurd covenant is made.
We see in the response of our culture today their method of coping. Abandoning this clarity and connection to all that is their heritage, they once again search for just the right bulb. And for many today it is the Gray Bulb of relativism with its anemic light. By its light black and white turn to so many shades of gray. Colors are subdued. There are no harsh shadows. Apparently the loss of all that is bright and strong and defined, joyful and sharp is acceptable so long as there is no darkness to threaten its shadows.
This bulb is the last resort of a people afraid of the shadows. When one cannot celebrate the idea of shadow, the only recourse is to make them so ill defined, there is no point in pointing them out. Unfortunately now everything is a potential shadow. It is just too hard to stund up to the fear of the shadows. If this attitude is embraced, then the ultimate destination is one without contrasts, no darkness, but also no light. Should we have to sacrifice the light to abolish the dark?
In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.
“There is no day, there is no night.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.”
We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks,
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Please keep letting me know what you think about the below post, but I just wanted to say I have added a new discussion question to the chronicles of narnia forum. We are still talking specifically about the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Terror Level Red
Is it just me or is there a possibility that our culture is becoming more melodramatic as the tendency for hypercaution creates a lack of real drama? I’m not trying to suggest the advent of the safety belt or the push to wear helmets is a bad thing. What I am wondering is if the sense of danger we feel today, and the sense of heroism isn’t, just maybe, due to our lack of real persistent struggle (in main stream, middle class, bourgeois America).
On a friends blog I have heard about a plumber advertising, “Life saving services” a title that is likely bloated just a bit, and the pronouncement of “Hero” upon someone who donated blood. I just wonder if back when people were circumnavigating the globe, slaying dragons(j/k), and strapping on their armor to go to battle, what they would have thought about a plumber as a Life Saver! or a blood donor as a Hero!
Oddly enough, due to the rampant amount of disease and the condition of the water supply, a plumber may have been saving lives back then, and a blood donor could have in fact been a hero if the technology existed. In a society where we buy our prepackaged food, cook it properly in our microwave or electric oven, climb in our air bag ladened cars, take our flu shot and keep antibiotics on hand, has there has been both a loss of real danger, and a heightened awareness of any perceived danger?
In a post 9/11 world I’m not trying to insinuate that we are all safe and the color indexed terror-ometer is a hoax, but rather I’m trying to draw attention to part of the cause for our fear obsession. Is it possible we need some sense of danger, of foreboding to keep us motivated? If so, where does this need for danger and fear come from? Certainly there is precedent for the adrenaline junky out for a quick sense of danger, but what could cause a need for a dangling sense of dread or fear?
As someone with absolutely no qualifications to make such a postulate, I will simply continue my “wondering out loud” here. Could it be that we sense there is something wrong with the world around us, that unless we see vivid signs of this we feel as if we are going crazy? Most honest people will admit the world isn’t perfect. Many of the motivations people have are broken. If all we see around us is safe and good, how can we explain this? However, if we find traces of evil, drama, and impending danger it validates our emotional reaction to what we feel is going on.
What am I really trying to say? We can feel deep down that the world is screwed up. With all of the technological advances, and even political and moral “advances”, we feel we still haven’t fixed, “the problem”. Instead of admitting there is some underlying problem we won’t be able to fix, we just point to more superficial problems and say, “No, that is still wrong, which is why I fell bad,” all the while refusing to accept some underlying problem. If we admit the human race is intrinsically fallen, or bent as Lewis put it in Out of the Silent Planet, it means there is something we can’t fix ourselves.
Until we acknowledge our sin, we will always be searching for a reason everything seems broken.
On a friends blog I have heard about a plumber advertising, “Life saving services” a title that is likely bloated just a bit, and the pronouncement of “Hero” upon someone who donated blood. I just wonder if back when people were circumnavigating the globe, slaying dragons(j/k), and strapping on their armor to go to battle, what they would have thought about a plumber as a Life Saver! or a blood donor as a Hero!
Oddly enough, due to the rampant amount of disease and the condition of the water supply, a plumber may have been saving lives back then, and a blood donor could have in fact been a hero if the technology existed. In a society where we buy our prepackaged food, cook it properly in our microwave or electric oven, climb in our air bag ladened cars, take our flu shot and keep antibiotics on hand, has there has been both a loss of real danger, and a heightened awareness of any perceived danger?
In a post 9/11 world I’m not trying to insinuate that we are all safe and the color indexed terror-ometer is a hoax, but rather I’m trying to draw attention to part of the cause for our fear obsession. Is it possible we need some sense of danger, of foreboding to keep us motivated? If so, where does this need for danger and fear come from? Certainly there is precedent for the adrenaline junky out for a quick sense of danger, but what could cause a need for a dangling sense of dread or fear?
As someone with absolutely no qualifications to make such a postulate, I will simply continue my “wondering out loud” here. Could it be that we sense there is something wrong with the world around us, that unless we see vivid signs of this we feel as if we are going crazy? Most honest people will admit the world isn’t perfect. Many of the motivations people have are broken. If all we see around us is safe and good, how can we explain this? However, if we find traces of evil, drama, and impending danger it validates our emotional reaction to what we feel is going on.
What am I really trying to say? We can feel deep down that the world is screwed up. With all of the technological advances, and even political and moral “advances”, we feel we still haven’t fixed, “the problem”. Instead of admitting there is some underlying problem we won’t be able to fix, we just point to more superficial problems and say, “No, that is still wrong, which is why I fell bad,” all the while refusing to accept some underlying problem. If we admit the human race is intrinsically fallen, or bent as Lewis put it in Out of the Silent Planet, it means there is something we can’t fix ourselves.
Until we acknowledge our sin, we will always be searching for a reason everything seems broken.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Knight Ryder, Wonka, and Apologies
I have finally come to the conclusion that until I get internet at my house, this blog updating thing is going to be very sporadic. Initially it seemed that whenever I had time to post something, I could think of something that I wanted to say (whether it was actually worth saying or not). Unfortunately, now the precious little nuggets of gooey goodness are spread out enough I’m running into the dilemma of 1. Not having stuff I want to say when I have time to post. 2. Not having time to post/internet access when I come across one of the aforementioned gooey nuggets. As such, this is my formal apology for not updating more. (Also I think that I maybe just wanted a quasi-reasonable framework within which to use the phrase “gooey nugget”.)
I saw Willy Wonka and: 1. Johnny Depp is a excellent. Those who thought his performance in Pirates underwhelming will be glad to see him as wonderful again. 2. Tim Burton is a genius. 3. The remake is stupendous and I never once found myself saying, “Ah man, why did they change that!” 4. In the remake I believe the squirrels will overtake the umpa lumpas as the most frightening part of the movie (though the charred small-world-esque dolls will be a close runner up. This is the darkest movie that I have seen ultimately be happy and cheerful,
P.S. That fabulous fellow Andrew Ryder (the Knight Rider) will be arriving in DC Thursday evening, so that ought to make for a wonderful weekend. Yes.
I saw Willy Wonka and: 1. Johnny Depp is a excellent. Those who thought his performance in Pirates underwhelming will be glad to see him as wonderful again. 2. Tim Burton is a genius. 3. The remake is stupendous and I never once found myself saying, “Ah man, why did they change that!” 4. In the remake I believe the squirrels will overtake the umpa lumpas as the most frightening part of the movie (though the charred small-world-esque dolls will be a close runner up. This is the darkest movie that I have seen ultimately be happy and cheerful,
P.S. That fabulous fellow Andrew Ryder (the Knight Rider) will be arriving in DC Thursday evening, so that ought to make for a wonderful weekend. Yes.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Sun Bear in the Billionaire's Board Room
Why have I just posted an I.D. badge from a certain cable network? Well, let it suffice to say that although I can’t give away too many details, hush-hush, I was doing sound level testing and got to sit in a certain CEO’s office, the office of the first black billionaire in the United States. He has a pretty sweet office set up. Unfortunately I didn’t get to meet him, but the pictures of people he has met that he had hanging up were quite impressive and included such people as Nelson Mandela and Hillary Clinton, among others.
I don’t think that if I was working in KC I would be working on jobs of this caliber. It is certainly a trade off. By being out in DC I have had to move away from much that I am familiar with and many friends that I truly cannot say too many good things about. However there is no doubt that as far as pursuing my career goals go this was the best thing I could have done. If at some time in the future I chose to pursue some other career path I will know that I have given this as much of a chance as is possible; no doubt will exist as to what potential I could have had on that path. That is something that I couldn’t have really said if I had stayed in KC. I would have spent probably the first 3 years doing very basic calculations and simple reports about office spaces that had air conditioners outside their windows.
I don’t think that if I was working in KC I would be working on jobs of this caliber. It is certainly a trade off. By being out in DC I have had to move away from much that I am familiar with and many friends that I truly cannot say too many good things about. However there is no doubt that as far as pursuing my career goals go this was the best thing I could have done. If at some time in the future I chose to pursue some other career path I will know that I have given this as much of a chance as is possible; no doubt will exist as to what potential I could have had on that path. That is something that I couldn’t have really said if I had stayed in KC. I would have spent probably the first 3 years doing very basic calculations and simple reports about office spaces that had air conditioners outside their windows.
5 Minute Madness
OK. In 5 minutes I leave for my second ever "solo" meeting. No big deal, just helping an architect select windows that will effectively limit the site noise (highway and train) that would make the interior of their condos not meet code.
4th of July, was good. The fireworks on the mall were good while they lasted but the whole display lasted maybe 15 minutes. The thing that redeemed it however was the back drop. The fireworks were shot off behind the Washington Memorial. So that was pretty sweet. It was a long walk back home however because the nearest metro stop was mobbed and literally thousands of people were trying to go down the escalators.
This week has been a short week which is nice. It was the first week that my new boss(?) was here for a full work week, even though it was only 4 days. I'll blog more about that later.
Book wise, I finished Pilgrims Progress, so I'll have to blog about that later as well. Now I'm trying to finish The Little Flowers of St. Francis, and I'll blog about that as well. Crap, out of time, off to my meeting.
MikeyC>
4th of July, was good. The fireworks on the mall were good while they lasted but the whole display lasted maybe 15 minutes. The thing that redeemed it however was the back drop. The fireworks were shot off behind the Washington Memorial. So that was pretty sweet. It was a long walk back home however because the nearest metro stop was mobbed and literally thousands of people were trying to go down the escalators.
This week has been a short week which is nice. It was the first week that my new boss(?) was here for a full work week, even though it was only 4 days. I'll blog more about that later.
Book wise, I finished Pilgrims Progress, so I'll have to blog about that later as well. Now I'm trying to finish The Little Flowers of St. Francis, and I'll blog about that as well. Crap, out of time, off to my meeting.
MikeyC>
Friday, July 01, 2005
Bear Fish?
We all know that bears are bigger than fish, right? At least larger than fresh water fish anyway. We’d feel safe saying that the king of the Sun bears (your’s truly) would vastly outweigh the largest catfish, right. I mean that blog a few back was about the largest blue catfish caught and it was 124 lb, so that should be a safe bet.
Well you’re all WRONG! On the elevator at 6:30 this morning when my eyes were still blurry I saw on the news updater thingy that some in May some men caught a, get this, 646 lb fresh water catfish in the Mekong river in Thailand. 646 lb. That is flippin’ huge. So to all those people that were like, “Oh noodling is so cool. You aren’t cool unless you have noodled, all the cool people do it,” I say, “Yeah, just keep doing that and wait until some you stick your arm in some hole and a catfish swallows you without even chewing. Have fun with that.
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/06/photogalleries/giantcatfish/
Well you’re all WRONG! On the elevator at 6:30 this morning when my eyes were still blurry I saw on the news updater thingy that some in May some men caught a, get this, 646 lb fresh water catfish in the Mekong river in Thailand. 646 lb. That is flippin’ huge. So to all those people that were like, “Oh noodling is so cool. You aren’t cool unless you have noodled, all the cool people do it,” I say, “Yeah, just keep doing that and wait until some you stick your arm in some hole and a catfish swallows you without even chewing. Have fun with that.
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/06/photogalleries/giantcatfish/
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