The Incredulous Misnomers of Telephone the Foot

Damn, this thing's still here?

2010-04-22T21:11:00.001-07:00

Whatever happened to web rot? Maybe I should mothball this blog and start afresh...

Something wayward of truth

2008-10-25T14:34:00.000-07:00

The elections are coming up in just over a week and I'm trying to decide who/what I want to support.

The various state and local ballot measures are straightforward, since they are specific actions one either votes for or against, and all text of the proposed laws is also given in the ballet info booklet they sent me. The majority of them I'll be voting against because they mostly want to spend money on things. In general I think the government spends too much money on things already, so only if it's really necessary should more money be spent.

There are a handful of local political positions to be voted for--school boards, various citiy officials, and so on. These are meaningful elections, but I'm so ignorant of local politics that the choice for me may as well be random.

The same goes for the state, albeit to a slightly lesser degree. I very rarely see clearly how state issues directly affect my life, so voting for those officials is almost equally meaningless.

Finally, one gets to the federal elections, and, while I don't think this is what our founding fathers envisioned, my level of knowledge about how the government's actions affect me is most acute. Defense spending directly affects my job, national security idologies directly affect my ability to move and act in our society, and federal programs with national scope directly affect the taxes I pay.

So in order to make an informed vote, I've been attempting to research the candidates as best I can to figure out what they're about. Naturally I've been getting emails from my friends with political satire and the like, but those are good for little more than a chuckle, if that. Unfortunately, despite my earnest research, I'm discovering a disturbing state of mind emerging.

No matter who I read about or what they're saying, I'm overwhelemed with despair. I don't believe I can trust anything the candidates say about themselves or each other. I don't believe that things are going to improve regardless of who's elected. I don't understand enough about most of the issues to even have much of a position on them myself.

The more I think about it, the more it feels like an exercise in futility. Things are just too complicated and I'm just too disinterested. I can't seem to overcome the feeling that I really don't care who's in office, and that it really doesn't matter, because in the end it never has, and never will, depend on me in any way, shape, or form. What can I do but live my life within the constraints of my circumstances and do the best I can to live some approximation of I'd like to call a life?

In the end God is responsible for those in power, since none can have power but what He gives them or allows them to have. Am I being irresponsible for thinking I can maybe just leave the whole matter in His hands and wash my own of it? We supposedly live in an age of enlightenment and unprecedented empowerment as members of our society. Gone, for the most part, are the tyrants and empires of the ancient world, but to me here and now it doesn't seem too different than what I imagine any citizen of them experienced. 99.9% of everything around me is entirely out of my control, and even the 0.1% I'm implicitly claiming control over is tenuous at best.

But perhaps I'm just being lazy. I suppose I'm insinuating that I merely want a world that somehow works "properly" without my having to think about it. Such a utopia would certainly dissolve the concerns I expressed above. But I'm not going to get that utopia in a fallen world. Instead I will get a world driven by greed and self-interest, dominated by those whose desire is to dominate, unconcerned about the most vital of my petty interests unless they're shared by the majority. Personally, I want nothing of it other than to be left alone.

Maybe I should make that my universal ideology: I'll vote for whoever will do the best job of leaving me alone and ensuring that others leave me alone. I'll call it the Isolationist Platform. I'll vote against anyone who wants to take my money/freedom/etc. or tell me what I can/can't do with it. I'll vote for anyone who can ensure that the government and other people can't do the same. Unfortunately that'll never work.

So in the end (since I'm tired of writing now) I typed a lot of words without really getting anywhere. I still need to figure out who to vote for, or else give in to apathy and not vote at all. The biggest problem with indifference, however, is that I would be relinquishing my right to complain about the state of things since I chose not to affect them.

Maybe I'll just vote for myself, except that I'm not old enough to hold office in D.C. just yet...

It's in the cards

2008-10-21T21:42:00.000-07:00

Aye aye aye. I said I'd keep up on this and I just keep forgetting about it instead.

Well, here's a quick update, stream of consciousness style.

School has started up again. Took my first midterm this morning and couldn't finish one of the problems because I couldn't remember the definition of the complex arc-tangent. Alas. I stayed home sick with a cold most of last week but I at least got to enjoy a spell of extra-warm weather in my home rather than gazing at it wistfully from a climate-controlled building full of stale air. I'd like to start dating again, but I just can't seem to find anyone I really want to go out with. Oddly, I'm not as unhappy about this predicament as one might think. My ex-girlfriend snubbed an invitation to celebrate my birthday at a local restaurant. Never mind the fact that I only invited people I genuinely enjoy spending time with. Her response was essentially "I can't, only because you're my ex-boyfriend and I'm dating someone else now." Well, she can kiss my ass. That was over a year ago. Get over yourself already. I've let my hair grow out and it's causing me to have zits in it. Gross. But I want to shock my folks so I have to keep it until I see them. I'll be happy to get rid of it, although I actually think I look better like this. Life is full of contradictions. Tomorrow will be my "long" day: 11 hours plus a bible study in the evening. I'm planning a month-long vacation to Japan next summer, God willing. Still have to get in touch with my host family to see when they'll be available. I'm thinking of flying business class so I can use my laptop on the whole flight. My new cellphone is pretty cool. No, I didn't get an iPhone. I won't ever be shackled by the Cult of Steve. But my phone can play NES games because I've hacked it. Hooray for customization. I desperately want to start writing music again, but I have no time. I also want to take piano lessons, but I have no time. I'm getting to be in pretty good shape thanks to DDR and semi-regular exercise at the gym. I'm enjoying it at least, even if no one else is. This weekend I have to research the candidates for the election, both state and federal, as well as the ballot measures. I'm taking voting seriously this year, even though politics is painful to me. I was reading about the Constitution on Wikipedia today, and it almost made me choke up. What a shameful thing our nation has become. We need another revolution to restore liberty to our corrupt police state. Question is how to do it without violence, and how to get everyone to see how much ground we've lost since 2001.

Oh, and by the way...

2008-08-19T21:57:00.001-07:00

...the "blond" part is COMPLETELY optional...

Is it REALLY too much to ask...

2008-08-17T22:16:00.001-07:00

...for a cute blond Christian girl who's into snowboarding, Japan, and electronic music?

Rant of a Closet Ascetic?

2008-08-07T23:48:00.000-07:00

I hope no one bothers to read this post.

Asceticism, or the abstinence from various worldly pleasures, has a long history in the Church. Today I think it's regarded as more of a novelty than anything, although I occassionally hear a sermon on fasting from time to time. In any case, it centers on the idea that we can hone our spiritual senses by depriving our physical senses by various degrees.

Had I the choice, I would take it to the extreme and do away with the body completely. I'm frequently struck by a distinct revulsion of having to reside in a body. It's slow, impudent, and disgusting. It's slow because I'm constantly limited by its inability to accomplish the motions which I desire from it. This can be remedied to an extent by tedious and frustrating practice. It's impudent in that it presumes to command me through constant desires which can only be put off for a time at best. Would that I could do away with desire, but more on that later. Finally, it's disgusting because it is messy and foul. It takes in pleasant substances and emits putrid ones. It generates unpleasant odors which require repeated tending lest they become noxious. It is susceptible to an endless array of poisons and diseases and decay mechanisms.

There is great beauty in math and physics and the inner workings of the universe. The precision and harmony of it all astounds me every time I think about it. There is great beauty and order in music, even in the sometimes discordant and arhythmic stuff I listen to. There is tremendous art in the universe everywhere you look. I will even concede that there are some amazing processes at work within this corpse of mine, (and all of this points to God's genius, to be sure) but I am daily put off by its willful lusts and repugnant secretions.

How I long for the sterile incorporeality of the angels and the heavenly beings! It would be so nice to be as light the itself, pure and precise, untethered to the whims of this piece of meat I inhabit--intellect uninterrupted by peevish desire.

I really think it's desire that I'm most repulsed by. And I mean purely physical desires...food, sleep, sex, etc. I have no problems with desire for justice, or love, or approval, or God Himself. Only I constantly find that my physical desires shove their way to the front of the line, rudely supplanting any nobler desires in their insistent demands to be met. It positively evinces hatred in my heart when I consider it! I want to tear the flesh away from my soul and be rid of it forever!

But this runs against Biblical theology. Oh yes, God gave his own Son a body like mine to inhabit and suffer inside and die in in order to accomplish my salvation. When he was resurrected, he was resurrected into a body, albeit a transfigured one. (I wonder what that transfigured body is like. Does it stink when it sweats? Does it want sex? Does it hunger for food? Does it need to shit after a meal?) So my hatred of my body is a hatred of how God has made me. Well, sue me. I didn't choose this. Had I been able to know a priori what it would be like I might have politely declined.

Perhaps my diatribe has more to do with the fact I'm trapped in a fallen body than anything. The physical desires that constantly demand my attention are only so belligerent because my mortal flesh lives in constant rebellion against God, or mastry by any force. It desires to do as it wills and opposition be damned. Then the failure is mine for not having the willpower to suppress it. That idea brings me no comfort.

This probably has everything to do with Paul going round and round in Romans about doing what he doesn't want to do and not doing what he wants to do. Story of my life, and maybe yours too. But what frustrates me the most is God's apparent apathy to rectify this situation. Uncountable times I've cried out to God for freedom from or control over the desires of the flesh. Exactly zero times has this ever happened the way I needed it to. I recall reaching the conclusion when I was a teenager (regarding sex, then, but it has broader applicability now) that if desire in my members won't be mastered then it is better to cut it off. I still lean in that direction.

What more does my soul need to learn from being persistently overruled by this rotten shell? I know that I am fallen, that I am sinful. I know that I can do nothing holy of myself. I know that I must depend on God for sustenance and health and life. I know these things! Why then, must I still suffer under the duress of this detestable clay? If I can't change things, WHY THE FUCK DOESN'T GOD DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? I've only been asking Him to for years!

I want to please God. I want holiness, and purity of thought and action. I want to be what God intended me to be BUT NOTHING CHANGES no matter what happens. All I want is clarity and peace. Is there freedom in death? Something in my soul won't let me seek that as an option, though I am tempted to find something reckless to do that I might speed myself towards death if it brings that liberation.

I'm horribly frustrated these days. I've made no progress as a person or a Christian in years. Indeed I feel like I'm even regressing, losing the profit of previous soul labor, and I don't understand why. My prayers are weak and selfish. My faith is emaciated, and only clings to the very basics. I'm no servant, except of myself. I'm not in any shape to support a wife, or raise children, or lead someone to Christ, or teach the Gospel, or even be much of a friend to anyone. I'm harsh, and critical, and pessimistic, and disappointed, and impatient, and cross. There's a smouldering anger at everything and nothing that lies just below the surface and boils forth at the slightest provocation. It's not a violent anger, just a spiteful, dolorous anger. I can feel it burning in my chest now even as I type. It makes my soul writhe and ache within me.

I barely even want to try anymore. Each day is either boredom, routine, restlessness, or all of those. I would seek God--I know I need Him desperately--but He holds even less interest for me than my smattering of half-attended-to hobbies. I'm less eager to spend time with Him than the last of my friends. Some folks are simply enraptured at the mere thought of the Lord. I struggle to even remember Him during the day. A.W. Tozer used to spend hours at a time face down, spread eagle on the floor of his office in silent worship of God. I wish ANYTHING were that captivating, let alone God Himself.

Why can't I see it? I feel like I'm somehow missing the point. I know what I believe about God and about Christ and about how it affects me, and I do believe it. That isn't for debate. What I can't grasp is why it hasn't changed me. Maybe my perceptions of what being saved is like are wrong. Maybe it doesn't change anything in this life. But that feels wrong. My friend Mabi has changed dramatically in the last 9 months as a result of a major overhaul of his faith. Meanwhile mine's hardly idling. It's hard not to be a little jealous.

I don't know what to do. I'm not expecting any miracle answers here, if anywhere. I should probably get counseling, but in the back of my head it seems like that would ultimately be a waste of time. I've never seen anything more than temporary improvements from anything I've tried, and that includes seeking God, praying, Bible study, and the like, which means the fundamental problems have never been solved. It's hard to even articulate them, although this post was largely an exercise to attempt it. But it's late now, and I do have to get out of bed tomorrow, whether I want to or not.

The Unhappiest of Ironies

2008-02-11T18:37:00.000-08:00

I pity you who wait with baited breath for me to post again. Joel even relies on automated means. Come to think of it, he's probably the only one who reads this blog for that very reason. Alas.

Anyway, as I sit here sipping a glass of Don Julio 1942 that my roommate gave me for Christmas (he's the excessively generous type...), I'm waiting for my icepack to finish re-freezing so I can ice my back again. I got adjusted on Friday, but I needed it again because I somehow managed to get my neck and upper back all bound up again. Fortunately my chiropractor is really cool and didn't charge me anything because it only took about 10 minutes.

See, I went snowboarding this weekend. My first time on the slopes since I blew out my knee last year. It was wonderful! I bought a new board in August after deciding I had outgrown my old one (which I'd had since high school). It's an "all-terrain" type of board, suitable for any type of snow or riding style. It's got plenty of room for me to grow in it, but not like so many potted plants.

The weather was great, the snow was great, I didn't fall over too much which was great, I stayed in a cabin mere miles from the hill which was great, I had two friends with me which was great.

There was only one part that wasn't great. Two people came up with me, both girls. I met both through my church's singles fellowship, called "20s". Sonja I've known for a couple of years. She's like an older sister in many ways. Lots of fun to hang out with. The other is from Louisiana who's over here studying Art Therapy at a small private college in SF. She's cute, but I haven't seen much of her since she first came because her class schedule is unfortunate. I really didn't know much about her before we left. Not even that she skis.

So yesterday afternoon we're up at Squaw Valley enjoying some great spring conditions. Sonja was having some trouble navigating turns on her board, so I tried to give her a lesson in the morning. She was a little flustered and embarassed, I think, but hopefully some of the things I showed her will make her riding more fun in the future. She decided to hang back after lunch and practice on the easy slopes so I went with the other girl to see some other parts of the mountain that she'd explored by herself earlier.

We were having a good time on the slopes, which aren't very crowded on a Sunday. I suggested we try heading a little further down the hill to see what was available from this other lift, so we headed over and began our descent. She was maybe 20 yards ahead of me when I saw her pop over a small ridge and disappear. In her stead I saw a cloud of snow and flying skis and poles. I approached her location (cautiously, in case there was some obstacle or something) and found her on her side, clutching her left leg.

Not good.

I stopped next to her and helped gather her things, but she wasn't that interested in them. She was in a lot of pain from whatever had happened. So I opened her bindings so she could get her feet out (which took quite a bit of strength to do gingerly) and helped her spin around so she wasn't lying head first down the hill. She said she caught her ski in a lump of snow and heard something pop in her knee. That sounded disturbingly like what happened to me.

So I stuck her skis in an X in the snow (The normal symbol for caution/injury) and raced down to get ski patrol. By the time I got back around to her they were already there and loading her into the toboggin. They told me where the clinic was and I said I'd be there as soon as I could.

To add insult to injury (pardon the pun), my CD player somehow fell out of my pocket while I was heading down to get someone's attention. So I slowly re-traced my path, but unfortunately didn't find it. It's silver and white, which isn't very conducive to finding in the snow. I did find someone's digital camera, though. So I turned that in and counted my player as a loss. Guess it's time to get a solid state player or something...

So the three of us had agreed to meet by the lockers at 3:45. It was only 3:15, but I was hoping Sonja might be inside. Sure enough, she was right there, futzing with her bindings (which I thought were a bit close together when I looked at them before). Thank God. I told her Erin was injured and we headed down to the base where the clinic was. The doctors had already looked at her but still needed to do X-rays when we got there. So sonja and I went back to the cabin and packed everything up and returned.

So here's their diagnosis: She tore her left ACL. I don't think I ever posted about it here, but that's exactly what I did last year in march at another Tahoe resort. This better not be a trend--that everyone I go skiing with injures their left ACL like I did.

Anyway, it was an ordeal but we got her home. Her mom back in Louisiana panicked and bought her a plane ticket home for TOMORROW at 6AM. Travelling is the LAST thing she should be doing right now, so I hope she doesn't go, but we'll see what happens. I gave her the contact info for the surgeon who did my knee, but her dad is some kind of medical so-and-so who knows every practicioner in their town, so for better or worse, she may end up staying back there for a while.

Nth time's a charm

2007-12-07T23:24:00.000-08:00

I FINALLY got a Linux distribution to run stably on my computer. I've had an on-again-off-again relationship with the OS dating back to high school when my friend Adam and I first played with, like, RedHat 3.0 or something. But every previous attempt has resulted in something fundamental being broken like internet connection, display drivers, botched installations, etc. So I guess Canonical has finally got it (mostly) right with the latest release of Kubuntu. Nothing critical has failed that it hasn't recovered rather well from. The remaining issues are minor nits, like the fact that the audio system is MUCH louder than windows (must be a driver thing), and the compositing window manager that I'm using disagrees with some aspects of KDE's behavior, but I don't think that's Canonical's problem, per se. All in all, I've been pretty pleased. The only remaining deficiencies are that it won't run Half-Life 2, and it won't run Live and Reason. It DOES run SNES and N64 emulators quite well, though, so at least I have those to entertain me. Infact, the N64 emulator seems to work BETTER than the windows version. If the WINE team ever figures out how to fully implement the windows API and DirectX 9, I'll probably be set, although I haven't tried MIDI yet.

On to more externally interesting things. I seem to have survived my finals, which were over Thursday morning. I now have 5 glorious weeks of intellectual freedom until I hunker down again for winter and spring quarters. 5 weeks to get my personality back. 5 weeks to start making music again. I'm hoping to make good use of the time (that isn't taken up by other activities). Hopefully my grades will be sufficient to buy this quarter's toy: and upgrade to the Live 7 Suite. It's only a third of what I have available, but the rest is going towards a nice set of studio reference monitors that calibrate themselves. *tingle*

My family is coming down here for Christmas. I'm excited about that. My brother's never seen my place, and it's been a few years since my family have seen him too. Should be a good time. I appreciate my family a lot more now that I'm not near them geographically. I've really come to realize just how important they are to me. Ironically, my parents are thinking about moving back to CA so they can be closer to family. It'll be a tough transition, though, because it's so fscking expensive to live here. The descision can't come without significant prayer, I imagine.

If anyone's still reading this, please leave a comment. I'll probably keep posting whether or not anyone does, but all the same, it's nice to know somebody notices.

Adrift on an ocean of beans and rice

2007-11-20T22:16:00.000-08:00

I wish I could figure out why I get so cranky behind the wheel. I'm instantly prompted to cursing and name calling at the slightest infraction. I just feel like so many folks aren't paying attention to driving. The rest exude an apathy towards courtesy and sound judgment. And of course there are the blessed few who use turn signals, give you space to move over, and let you out of the parking lot. Ironically, the truly stupid people who nearly get me in wrecks merely make me afraid to be driving anymore. There's no anger in those instances, only relief that I and my car aren't all smashed up and a vague incredulity at what the other person almost just perpetrated.

I get thursday and friday off this week. That works to my benefit because it means I only have to work 24 hours this week. When you're used to 10 hour days, this makes the week very short. So I'm driving a friend to the airport tomorrow at noon then helping another study for her SATs. I really needed this short week. 50-some hour weeks of work, class, homework, chores, and errands have nearly burnt me out.

Oddly enough, I think I've accomplished more in the last few business days than 3 times that thitherto. I'm doing a couple of interesting analyses for this one program.

One is a shielding audit. This particular spacecraft has a requirement for the physical structure ("walls", "floor", etc.) to provide 40dB of shielding (a factor of 100) to electric fields up to 1GHz. This is a pretty tough requirement to levy on a structure that wasn't designed to provide any shielding at all. Naturally, the thing is full of holes which have been patched using various kludges of tape and wire screen, and one particularly silly application of ferrites (those are the heavy things on the end of your monitor cable) where they're not meant to be used. Unsurprisingly, they won't work very well, but I'm having a lot of fun using this software called Microstripes, which costs about the same as a Mercedes-Benz, to prove it. Ooo, pretty colors!

The other one is a lightning study. It's not as glorious as it sounds--I don't get to zap million-dollar hardware with bolts of lightning and watch it pop and sizzle. I get to do in in PSPICE (electric circuit simulation software) instead. The only problem is, it doesn't have any way for me to generate the input signal (a bunch of short pulses with random spacings). Matlab can do it pretty easily, but that leaves the problem of how to get data between the two. Well, there is software to do it, but it costs $3000 and needs approval by the engineering tools group. So I attempted to write a compelling email explaining why I need it, only it came off sounding disingenuous and arrogant when I read it. Unfortunately my language center stubbornly refused to engage the task again so I sent it off anyway.

But I digress. While I could expound at length about the technical subtleties of modelling 3-dimensional electromagnetic fields or the debugging process of writing a script to generate randomly spaced pulses or the logistical problem of running a long simulation which produces hundreds of megabytes of text files, you all probably want to do other, less eye-glazing things, so I won't trouble you. The bottom line is I think one of the best parts of this job is getting to play with all this extremely expensive software on someone else's dime.

What was it again?

2007-11-16T13:27:00.000-08:00

Well, after a more-than-one-year hiatus, including a several month stint where I couldn't remember my login and password, The Incredulous Misnomers of Telephone the Foot rises from the ashes like so many greenhouse gases, unleashing a renewed assault upon the upper atmosphere.

In that interim, much has changed. I'm finishing up my first year(of four) of grad school while I continue to work full time, and desperately need the upcoming Christmas vacation. My roommate Mike and I jointly purchased a condo which we are enjoying very much during the ~30% of the time we're actually in it. In fact, I have to clean it today. Work, school, and chores leave me almost no time for hobbies, but I'm still doing the manga/anime/Japanese thing, got back into fire poi (which impressed nearly all of my friends here), and am making fleeting stabs at producing electronic music using Reason and Ableton Live on my Axiom 49 keyboard. I rebuilt my PC into a nearly silent powerhouse for this reason, and will obtain a decent set of studio monitors in the near future (if my grades are good). I'm no longer dating the nice girl from church. In fact she's dating someone else now. She waited all of 2 months after we broke up to start seeing him. I'm glad she's recovered so fast. Wish I could say the same. God orchestrated the breakup, and it was a good thing, but apparently I don't cope very well.

Perhaps due to some or all of the above, I'm beleaguered by an insidious and rather severe depression. I'm planning to start seeing a Christian counselor about it after school is done exploding my brain for the year. Mom thinks I need druqks because depression runs in the family. I'd like to not become a pharmaceutical candy kid, myself. Maybe it can be a temporary solution or something.

I had pho with my friend Mabi last night. As we were leaving, a slightly drunk down-and-out named Sonny asked us for spare change for a bus home. He was mumbling something about whether or not we believe in God, so as he turned to leave, I said "God's blessing be with you." He spun on his heels back towards us and we ended up talking to him about God's love and Christ's work on the cross for a good hour. Dude says he believes, but can't understand that God loves him that much, since he's turned his back on Him numerous times. Well, take care of yourself Sonny, and remember that God's always just one step behind you, waiting for you to turn back to him.

Are the winds of change blowing?

2006-09-08T09:17:00.000-07:00

I'm debating whether or not to continue posting here.
Lately I just don't have the gumption to post anymore.
There are many more things occupying my time these days.
I have a job.
I go out often with friends.
I have many hobbies.
I'm considering grad schools.
And I'm dating a nice girl from church.
Please leave a comment if you would still faithfully read this.
I can't guarantee the frequency or quality of my posts will improve.
But if enough people rally, I will make more of an effort at it.
Thanks.

A Treatise on the Power of Nuance, Being a Compulsory Diatribe on the Effective Fringe Gelatin

2006-08-19T01:07:00.000-07:00

O oft neglected blog,
Were I more astute,
Thou wouldst not moulder here.

O affirmation. O tantalum. Tranceiver below a mind possibly a worker. This is not being, this is a cat, but not a catharsis. Or maybe it is, but it's three ways from Tuesday before the bank says so. Happen stance brings a frappucino. And I'm no one to talk, but I miss the opportunity to dive headlong into a fish plot being forty-five. How nice it is to not be chained to reality, syntax, Symantec. Time tested and true worn weather bea hole to the moon. So here's a question. Haven't I been here before? It's tiresome waiting for inspriation, especially when the fickle is thunder and a mack can of nitrates.

Tempt yourself not with petty suppositions that it's anything of meaning but now a kissing. I think I read that somewhere it's not so much how it sounds, but what it means. Can you test it? Trouble in drainage, but not more than five or so, or so I though, so I thought it was safe to blink again.

Six. Twenty-two. Five iron. Club sandwich. Interleaved. Entire love. Time twisted. Time told. Times twelve.

Asphalt is what is not is, how it is not I cannot say. I don't remember talking about him before. Sneezes startle my roommate. Like just now. Oh well. I'm just not as lucid as I'd like to be.

Twice a day

2006-07-28T22:58:00.000-07:00

1) My beleaguered keyboard is STILL backordered a month after I ordered it. I'm getting really itchy to make another stab at songwriting. Itchy enough to try it without any keyboard at all. Hooray for mouse-tracking! But it's tough to chew on.

B) Natural, fiber-based laxatives are definitely the way to go. 5-HTP has been helping my moods I think. I may try melatonin in the future to get my body on a more preferable sleep schedule

III) I got promoted...without even trying. I'ma just pass that one right on to God cause I wasn't even asking for it. Now if He'd just grant me that lovely woman I HAVE been asking Him for...well, in His time, whether I like it that way or not. :-P

Four) I'm going to Palm Springs next weekend with a (female) friend of mine, whom I happen to be interested in to learn how to dance Salsa and Swing. *shrug* Should be an amusing time, assuming I don't backhand her while doing a turn, right, Tia? ;-)

五) Now that Intel is on the verge of releasing the Core 2 Duo, I'm at an impasse as to which architecture to opt for in my new computer. I'm much concerned about heat and noise now.

Losing My Religion

2006-07-16T22:43:00.000-07:00

I was feeling pretty irresponsible about not posting here for a long time, then I saw that most of the other UCUer blogs I check haven't been updated in as much time or more.

The other week I was pondering over when and where I would go if I had a time machine. My first thought, of course, would be to go back to ancient Palestine and see Jesus while he was still walking around on this earth. I examined my motivations for doing that and came to the conclusion that that was a bad idea. Even if I only saw him from afar, He'd know I was there and that I shouldn't be. I'm sure my appearance would cause alarm anyway. But more than that, what if He talked to me? What if He asked me why I had come? I couldn't give Him any excuse because He'd already know my hearts intentions, even if I didn't have words for them. Knowing what I know about Him, and that very few of those around Him did, I doubt I could escape the enormous guilt of being a sinful human before Him. But then who's to say that He wouldn't have some kind of words for me. The only problem is every reason I can see to go there is indicative of a lack of faith. Whether it's to see what he really looked like, to hear the sermons from his mouth, or anything else.

I decided in the end that it might be better to somehow be present in the Jerusalem church at or just after Pentacost. I'm always baffled by the way of life described in Acts 2. I wonder how far the church has drifted from that original model. I often wonder if I really do have much of the Holy Spirit in me, because my thoughts, words, and deeds almost never bear out what is described in the NT as indicative of its presence within me. That touches on a whole other disturbing topic I'm not gonna write about now. I have an email chain that I might post here later with more thoughts on that.

Also, I've been itching to start producting electronic music again. I got a brief taste of it several months ago when a friend loaned me his 25-key MIDI keyboard and another friend let me "borrow" the music production software he was using. I told myself that if I ever finished a complete song to my satisfaction that I'd take the plunge and buy the program outright. Well I never got quite that far, although I generated about 20 lame to mediocre starts. So deciding I want to try it a little harder this time, I up and purchased the mighty M-Audio Axiom 49 to toodle around with on my "borrowed" software. I actually started running out of keys with the O2, so I figured I'd go in grand style and get something worth using. (The O2 is cute, but pretty limited.) I found it for just over 40% off through Froogle, and there's another story about the place I bought it from, if you want to hear it some time. (that means leave comments!) Unfortunately, it's on backorder until who knows when. They said 1 or 2 weeks when I called, which have now elapsed. Maybe it'll ship this week. Anyway, I had a nice chat with one of my co-workers last week about how relatively affordable it has become to set up a studio and start producing music. For maybe $2000 you can get everything you need, except neighbors that won't complain about the bass coming through their wall. (Yet another story.) If you wanna do it the pre-software-emulation way you would need to spend well over $10,000 on synths, sequencers, samplers, drum machines, effects boxes, mixing equipment, and even with your massive arsenal of hardware (which you need a big rack and lots of patch cables for) you'd still be limited by the combinations thereof. Now, by the power invested in fast CPUs and USB, you can have it all, minus inspiration and musical ability. Time will tell if I have either of those...

Intrepidation

2006-06-11T22:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I'm not dead, in case you were wondering.

I just feel that way most of the time.

I'm still "looking for life", even though I'm supposed to have found it in Christ

John gave a particularly effective sermon on John 11 this morning.

Why did Jesus let Lazarus die and stay dead for four days?

Why did he let Mary and Martha suffer that grief?

In the end His raising him back to life glorified God and proved His divinity.

So you could say I'm dying on the inside.

Well, then let it happen.

Let it die.

Better now than some time down the road.

Gimme your worst God, I'll prove there's some self-will left until there really isn't.

And then you will raise me back to Life.

See you on the other side.

An Exploded Elephant Barbecue

2006-05-15T21:34:00.000-07:00

I've decided that I'm going to start typing some of my emails in metered verse. Tonight I replied to a friend's invitation in iambic pentameter, for example. This is probably all just a feeble attempt to recapture the insanity of my college days. I've made a lot of friends here, and they're all great people. But I really miss having friends who weren't so...well, normal. Tia was lamenting that she's yet a year to finish at college and she's already beginning to miss it. For those of you who are still living out those wacky days, live it up. You have a LONG LONG time to be a boring grownup, don't rush it. I've only been out less than two years and already I'm fighting not to lose my edge. The real world dulls your mind VERY quickly. Keep it unreal. I'm off to go grocery shopping then go to bed. Blech.

はい、はい、分かってるってよ！

2006-04-21T23:31:00.000-07:00

最近日本語を勉強することはもっと大切になったそうだ。日本に住みたいことについてかどうか知らないけど　（実はし方が知らん）、普通な用事がしにくくなっちゃたよ。アニメを観たり読書を読んだり文法を勉強したりしたいばかりなんだ。それから、日本語の本を買いすぎたと思ってるよ。運良く今まで困らせなかった。理想がわかる事いま出来ないと、神様の秘密あるんです。

I think that says "Lately studying Japanese seems to have become very important to me. I don't know whether or not it has anything to do with wanting to go live in Japan (Actually, I don't know how I'd do that anyway), but it's made it difficult to do my normal tasks. And I think I've spent too much money on Japanese books because of it. Watching anime, reading Japanese readers (bi-lingual literature samples for studying natural langauge), and studying grammar are all I want to do. Luckily, it hasn't caused me any trouble yet. I can't figure out why this is going on, so it's God's secret for now," but it must still be laughable to a native speaker. I've a very long way to go yet. *sigh* In the mean time, I've got duties to neglect...

Test the Atmosphere

2006-04-02T22:22:00.000-07:00

mmm...tequila.

Funeral Profession

2006-03-12T22:42:00.000-08:00

This is a very long post, as it's the emotional dump of several weeks of introspection.

My new year's resolution was to “live life unhindered.” My intention was that the previous year stood out in my mind as being burdened by perfectionism, which has the nasty tendency to make you hesitant to do anything that might not work out exactly the way you hoped; you reject failure as an option and instead refrain from action. This is a terrible way to live life, and it chokes the soul. After all, if I'm a Christian, shouldn't I “have life, and have it more abundantly”?

Ballroom dancing has become a big thing recently in the 20s group. I've been encouraged to join my friends on a number of outings, most of which include lessons for beginners. Yet I've resisted going for two reasons. One, dancing has always been a point of anxiety for me. In high school I avoided it entirely except when my girl friends needed someone to dance with and I felt bad for them. I managed to sidestep my anxiety in college when I started learning funk styles and glowsticking at raves. But partner dancing remains something that makes me very uneasy. Two, and this touches on deeper issues which I'll get to later, is that I'm afraid of the stimulation of having a girl in my personal space. Reflecting on this alerted me to the fact that this certainly isn't “living life unhindered.”

After my last romantic relationship crumbled (a word to the wise: distance does NOT make the heart grow fonder), the emotional pain I endured from desire thwarted, opportunity lost, and promise abolished cause me to half-unconsciously set to the task of hardening myself against the wiles of desire, noting that every desire that was fulfilled in that relationship had awakened only greater desire. At this same time I was becoming fiercely serious about dealing with my lust, and it seemed only logical that if lust feeds parasitically on desire, then an absence of desire might abate the problem. My “efforts”, if they can be called that, seemed to have paid off as the last six months or so have been marked by a heretofore unmatched quiet. I've assumed this was that elusive “contentment in singleness” that often comes up in Christian singles' talks, but makes no sense to those who aren't currently experiencing it.

Some time passed and I came to a point where I was still content to be single, yet not content anymore. I met a few women at church whom I found attractive, and it seemed like a good idea to get to know them a little more, to test the waters, as it were. But a weird thing has happened. I've gone on several dates now, and had good times so far. My friends applaud my fearlessness, as dating in 20s can be a touchy subject, much like it was at UCU, and much for the same reasons, sadly. (Namely, the girls can be very inaccessible, even on a platonic level, and it's supremely frustrating. I think it stems from a faulty understanding of the “importance” of singleness.) But even though the dates have been enjoyable, and it may be that one of those girls even likes me, there is no spark to it. It's felt as platonic to me as going to dinner with my roommate, even mechanical. It could be that I'm just not interested in these girls after all, which by going on several dates I'm trying to make sure I know enough about the person to ascertain. It may be too premature to tell yet, but I've been a little surprised at the fact that though these women are physically attractive, even that stirs very little within me. What it does stir I hastily quash as being from my sinful flesh.

It seems that I've really done a number on myself: I've killed, or at least incapacitated, my “romantic” desires. I could ride this wave and claim that God has made me content to be single, but it somehow feels wrong. Nobody's pressuring me to get married, and I still believe that I probably won't be single for the rest of my life, but it's troubling that now that I'm stepping back into the world of relationships, I can't escape the notion that I'm only doing it half-heartedly, as if by some obligation to myself. What is it that's gone wrong?

God has a funny way of timing things. The other day my roommate came into my room holding three books. He said, “I can't read all of these at once, so pick one.” and left them on my desk. The one I ended up with is a book by John Eldredge, of “Wild At Heart” fame, called “The Journey of Desire) (Searching for the life we've only dreamed of).” I admit I'm reading it with a bit of skepticism. I've read some scathing, yet erudite rebuffs against the philosophy of “Wild At Heart,” and I've been unimpressed with other books about “finding true life in God.” I'm not too far into the book yet, but some of the statements seem to be speaking directly do what I've just discussed. The first few chapters deal with the fact that we have unmet desires, that having them is a problem because it opens us up to inevitable hurt (it is a fallen world, after all), and do we dare to embrace them. That's as far as I've got so far, but I wanted to share a couple of interesting points and apply them to myself.

He writes, “There is a nagging awareness inside us, warning that we'd better not feel our hunger too deeply or it will undo us.” This was the conclusion I came away with from my battle with lust. Everything that stimulates sexually is a breeding ground for it and so it's better not to be stimulated at all. I tend to stare off into space a lot when I'm around women because I can't trust myself not to look at their bodies. That isn't life. It's a prison where there's a vortex in the floor and I must cling to the wall or be sucked in.

He quotes a friend: “I thought the best way for a person to live is to keep his desires to a minimum so that he will be prepared to serve God.” This sentence really haunts me. Doesn't that sound like a lot of what we hear about “Christian life”? I know I've concluded from experience that desire only draws me away from God because when I desire things, they're inevitably things I want for myself, not things that I think are what please God. If I'm wanting selfish things, how can I possibly be surrendered to His will? This is an agonizing topic to me, because for all I've heard, if I'm surrendered to His will, my own will align with it and I'll take delight in it. In some small things that's true, but it always seems to leave out most of the things I call important in life—things like romantic relationships, in particular. What I want is what I want, and I never think to ask God ahead of time what it should be. This also isn't life. It strips away everything that makes me a human being and makes me some kind of faceless drone-for-Christ.

Earlier today I had an interesting conversation with a friend about direction and the leading of the Holy Spirit. I found I could spew a lot of advice about listening to it, but it proves me a hypocrite. I feel I have a very poor understanding of what it means to live life through Christ. A lot of the things I do, while motivated by a desire to emulate my Savior, don't feel propelled by the Spirit in a way I can perceive. I suppose God does his greatest work under the radar, but it just feels empty. I'm going through the motions and it's draining me. I have nothing in this life to complain about—everything's going great by human standards. The problem of no problem, maybe? I can't escape the idea that I'm somehow missing the point of “knowing Jesus,” based on what I hear others say about it. The oft referenced “freedom in Christ” is supposed to be a liberating thing. But my faith often feels like just a different cage that I've willingly climbed into. Does anyone else feel this way? I'm tearing through Mr. Eldredge's book, hoping it'll answer the question better than other books I've read on the subject. In the mean time, whatever the case, I certainly don't seem to be keeping my new year's resolution.

門に着くかぃ？

2006-03-09T23:24:00.000-08:00

This evening as I was watching an episode of Mushishi, a sort of Miyazaki does the X-files type of series, something interesting happened. I'm in the habit of watching a lot of anime and Japanese TV when I can to keep my ears trained to Japanese. I suppose if I spoke it more often, I'd be better at that too, but I have to take my steps one at a time, or something like that. Anyway, at the end of the episode, they release a large cloud-like creature from the inkstone in which it had settled over thousands of years. Turns out there was quite a lot of it, because it rather filled the sky. I was rather in a daze and not really thinking too much about what I was watching, but when I saw it, I immediately thought 「でっかい」completely out of nowhere. My curiosity piqued, I jaunted on over to the WWWJDIC, which is the most comprehensive Japanese dictionary in existence, and looked it up. Turns out I was right on the money, as the definition is "huge; gargantuan". I was puzzled, but rather pleased by this unconscious response. However, it reminds me that a couple of weeks ago I had a dream where I saw a half-Japanese friend of mine. I found out it was her birthday and, in my dream, said 「お誕生日おめでとう。」which, of course, means "Happy birthday." It causes me to wonder if all this passive studying is actually doing some good deep down. I'd be curious to see how much I could speak if I were hypnotized. I'm pretty sure the only thing keeping me from really being proficient is the typical "stage fright" that comes with learning a second language. However, these revelations may yet encourage me to start speaking Japanese more often with my friends...namely this girl...who, incidentally, I'd like to go out with...if she didn't have a boyfriend. でも、後の時の話なんだよ。Woops.

And Now, A Word From Our Sponsor

2006-02-20T21:56:00.000-08:00

Tia should like this one. It's the marquee on my screen saver at work.

There once was a fellow named Mort,
Whose limericks were always cut short.
So one day his friend
Said, "This habit can end,
If you simpl

Ramble Bramble

2006-02-04T00:49:00.000-08:00

Seems I caused an uproar on a friend's blog recently for perceived Bible-bashing. The owners, who as far as I know are professing Christians, made some posts containing what most folks would call crude humor, even if they also thought it funny. I in turn attempted to gently remind them that we're supposed to have highers standards because our actions reflect on the God we server. This was met with angry criticism and a kind of how-dare-you-trample-on-my-free-speech defense. However, I won't back down on what I said because, while I'm no less convicted by what I posted, it saddens me to see my friends--fellow believers--so unabashedly mimicking the mindset of the world. Maybe I'm weird for wanting to distance myself from it. Perhaps I'm mistaken for believing that Christians are supposed to stand out against the background noise of secular culture. Could be that Christians aren't supposed to check each other's behavior for the previous two reasons.

Unfortunatley I can't say all that without adding the caveat that I'm no less susceptible to being drawn into a worldly mindset myself, and there are also things I do that I'd like to keep hidden. I've been reading the daily devotions from Oswald Chambers's book My Utmost for His Highest. The last several days' entries have been hard to digest. The thrust of them is that our petty personal concerns mean nothing to God compared to the reality of the Gospel. I can't say I wholly agree with it. I do acknowledge that proclaiming Christ crucified is our number one priority, and that all other concerns should rightly fall by the wayside. But on the other hand, if God is our loving Father, how could he not be concerned about his children? No good earthly father is unconcerned. When voicing concerns approaches the excess of whining and complaining, the situation changes.

Maybe that's what he was getting at. I don't know, but his ideas still trouble me. No one is able to make me question my salvation like ol' Oswald. He speaks in such absolutes that he leaves no room for the student...you either have Christ completely and the rest of the world is obliterated by it, or you never had Him at all and you're still just as condemned as the unrepentant pagan. If this is the case then I'm in dire straits, especially because I cannot elicit faith and devotion from my own volition. It seems I'll need to pray for God to increase my devotion to him. I only wish I were a little less comfortable with things.

Fortunately that gets tempered every once in a while. I've been reading about how the internet backbones want to start charging both users AND content providers to use their networks in a so-called "tiered internet" whereby the internet we know today would only be available to the highest paying customers, and the prices we know today would only afford low-level service like band-limited web and e-mail. In other news, it's becoming clear that organized crime has moved solidly into the online sphere, crafting virii and malware with the capability for widespread ID theft, then selling such "technologies" for huge sums of money in online black markets. Human capacity for greed never ceases to astound me. And on 20/20 tonight the show's topic was on how America is becoming ever more rude. It seems that technology is a major contributor, as we all cram into cities and chat on our cell phones while checking e-mail on our blackberries and getting stock quotes on our pagers. It tempts me to unplug from the internet completely in a quest for a simpler kind of life. The upshot of that is that the majority of what I find entertaining is electronic in nature. Maybe that's an addiction that can be cured though...

It's times like these

2006-01-15T23:35:00.000-08:00

I've rather enjoyed going to bed at a more reasonable hour these days.

Now if only my body would realize that I'm trying to do something nice for it and start behaving accordingly...

It's the shoes that give it that extra kick.

2005-12-07T00:06:00.000-08:00

Are you tired of the staples of dating: dinner and a movie? Looking for some fresh tasks to undertake with your significant other? If I had a significant other, I might be too. But unfortunately, my head is too full of strange ideas to make sense of it one way or the other. So for those of you who actually have someone to entertain, here are some alternative date ideas of my own eclectic creation for you to attempt. This item is sold as-is, no warranty.

1. Visit a modern art museum.
2. Attend a jazz event.
3. Go out for bubble tea and order the most unreasonable flavors you can think of.
4. Wander the mall and introduce yourselves to complete strangers.
5. Visit a cemetery on a rainy day and read depressing poetry out loud to each other.
6. Throw Frisbees/footballs across a busy intersection.
7. Practice ballroom dancing on a street corner.
8. Throw pennies off a freeway overpass.
9. Two words: Speed Scrabble
10. Go shopping for drapes.
11. Ride the elevator in a high-rise for hours, chatting.
12. Walk through the park, arm in arm, arguing furiously.
13. Learn to waltz...backwards.
14. Dress identically for an party and swear it was coincidence, then act indignant towards each other.
And the grand finale...
15. Confuse a cat.

It's Puritanical

2005-11-24T15:32:00.000-08:00

"If that thou wild not read, let it alone;
Some love the meat, some love to pick th bone:
Yeah, that I might them better palliate,
I did too with them thus expostulate."

-From Paul Bunyan's apology to The Pilgrim's Progress

Props to anyone who can use the word "expostulate" in a poem, and maintain proper grammar too!
Let's see YOU do it...Go ahead...write a comment...I dare you...

Tear My Eyes Out

2005-11-21T00:25:00.000-08:00

A funny thing happened on the way to bed this evening. My roommate came over and said he had some things to confess. What he had to confess isn't terribly important to this anecdote. Anyway, so after he told me what happened I was thinking, well, what can I do for my brother that's real and not just some pithy Christian platitude? I hate pithy Christian platitudes because they're meaningless to most people. I also hate bland sentimentality because it's unreal and ineffective. So after a moment I began to do something sorta unexpected.

I told him that as his brother in Christ, and one who also has the Holy Spirit, that in the name of Christ, he was forgiven for what he had confessed to me. It felt like picking up a great sword, too heavy for me. And I did stammer a little, but in the end the words came out. I put my hand on his shoulder and prayed for him. Then we spent the next two hours chatting about sin and how we constantly end up committing the same ones again and again; how humiliating those things are and that we KNOW better, yet keep doing it; how in our darkest temptations we can give in, knowing full well that God has presented a way out and that we're wholesale rejecting it to do what we want; how secretly proud we get and how utterly undeserving we are of Grace.

I marvel at how dim our spiritual senses are. Paul says "Now we see dimly, as in a mirror (not our modern 99.9% reflective mirrors, but a 1st century dull buffed bronze plate)," but I may as well be looking at the back of my hand most of the time. But even through that myopia I saw something incredible, and it nearly scared the shit outta me once I thought about it.

Every once in a while we're privileged to be what they call "used of God" for something. Tonight I was used of God to bring Christ's forgiveness to my roommate. But what a aweful thing it is for the Spirit to move in us! While I didn't think about it much at the time, toward the end of our conversation I considered it a little. This was a fairly small event--I didn't cast out a demon or anything. But I still felt I was much too small to do the job. I shudder to imagine what more explosive movement of God might be like. How infinitely small I am that He should ever stoop to do so! Even a drop of God's power could tear me apart!

Now I think I understand a little why every encounter with an angel in Scripture is met by terrified collapse to the ground. Anyone who thinks they could look the Creator in the eye, or even the least of his heavenly servants, is deceiving himself something awful. Your strength is no match. Snap to and recognize just how paltry you really are. There is no comparison.

The weather on Sunday

2005-11-13T23:35:00.000-08:00

明日事務室に行きたくないなぁ。
もう一週末間が要るんだね。
全然働きたくない事はだめかもしれないぞ。
でもどうすればいいのか？
多分神様に俺の心を変える事を祈るよね。

Some days are better than others

2005-11-01T23:47:00.000-08:00

Translate, pontificate, buy a banner. Last one on the floor gets milk in his shoes. What with all that money floating around, someone would surely have something better to say. That's the last time I buy that round of go-gos! Drink till you're fizzy, then burst, flowering, into all oblivion. It's fun, laughable, attainable.

Name something else here. I wasn't tired enough the other night to understand the make of his car. It's elsewhere, you know. Never had much confidence in number three.

Times flies and snack pies,
aloud and wandering far.
Where ears are cold and noses bleed,
and bent beyond the scar.

Take some time off to write a stream of consciousness, they said. Wait, who's they? Oh that's right, it's all the same. I thought of something twice, but nevermind. Raptures and reverends and riots--it's the end of the world, some might say. When you have four different songs playing in your head, does sheet music come spilling out of your ears?

Wait not, want not. Wan and wail and waste away. Twice three albums namibia can try a sled go for thought. Ease and mind are ninety-five, but never more than four down the road, I think.

Tremors.

Apple glue was once a fascination, but now a jar being beans and my isolation. Trust escadero or madness wanes as if a quart of money could buy you more milk.

That's it for now. All comments must be surreal or dada. Thank you for your time...nine...that's fine.

Walk this way...

2005-10-21T02:34:00.000-07:00

.neht litnu yaw gnorw eht sgniht gnidaer peeK .noos gnihtimos tsop ll'I .selkcah ruoy esiar t'nod ,haey, haeY

I need to make it something scarier

2005-10-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

As I was sitting in the grass today, eating my lunch, a fruit fly hopped up onto my packet of kanji study cards and began walking in tiny clockwise circles. I puzzled at this for a little while then resumed eating my sandwich, trying hard not to look at the people playing volleyball 20 yards away, some of whom were women.

These days it's better for me not to look at women altogether...I start being attracted to them and that always leads in the wrong direction. God made my libido, and therefore it's good, but it's too potent. I don't know what to do with it. Listening doesn't work cause lust always hijacks it. I guess ignore it as much as possible is the only solution.

Also at lunch I had an opportunity to try, for the first time ever, a Jonagold apple. They're in season now, and I highly recommend them. They're crunchy, juicy, and just slightly tangy. The skin's not too tough either.

It's good to be back. I'll post pictures of my roommate and our new place (No, it's not the condo for thsoe that know. That whole thing fell through in a fiery legal inferno, so we escaped as fast as we could) as soon as I can borrow his camera and take them. Huttah.

My sinclairest apotomies

2005-10-01T01:50:00.000-07:00

Computer's been on the fritz for a while with dying hard drives, defective new ones, and such. Moving also put a cramp on things. Finally got the beast back in working order. More to follow if life ever slows down for a minute.

I'mportant announcement

2005-08-19T00:02:00.000-07:00

For everyone who's been getting spam comments, you should read this article from blogger help.

What time is it McGee?

2005-08-09T22:39:00.000-07:00

I have the hardest time buying things. Necessities like food aren't a problem, but I mean consumer goods. It takes me forever, and not even just to find what I want. Being a child of the internet generation, my research skills are pretty well honed. It doesn't take me long to zero in on the product that does what I'm looking for. No, what takes me forever is actually getting around to buying it. There are two reasons for this, both monitary in nature.

The first is the parsimony I inherited from my mom, God bless her. All while I was growing up we never seemed to have money for anything, yet we never lacked anything either. I chalk the latter up to God's merciful providence, but it never stopped mom from complaining that we couldn't ever get ahead. I will grant that debts are a nasty nasty thing, especially interest-bearing debts like credit cards. I do recognize that my parents have been struggling to rid themselves of it for many years while at the same time raising a family of four. They've also been very generous to Alex and I over the years, especially in helping us pay for college. Nevertheless, I'm left with an attitude that I should never spend when I don't have enough to pay for it. While this is ok for small things like new socks, it doesn't work so well with larger purchases because it's damn near impossible to predict how much money you'll have. I can make rough estimates of my bills based on last month, but there are countless purchases that we all make that go practically unnoticed until we get to the end of the month and realize we spent everything we earned. 70% of the time I don't buy something because I can't convince myself I have the resources. The problem is that it sometimes spills over into buying things for other people, which, if done in a truly giving state of mind, should be blessed of God, and it can mean a lack of faith.

The OTHER reason I don't spend is I have a hard time convincing myself I actually need stuff. Most of my clothes are in good shape, and my workplace is relaxed enough to allow me to wear my normal clothes at work, so I don't see a need to purchase anything nicer that might cost more than what I'm used to. I've been feeling self-conscious recently at work, but it hasn't been enough yet to make me go buy nicer clothes. Another thing I inherited from mom and dad are distorted notions of what things should cost. I still get indignant when I end up spending $30 at a restaurant for food AND a cocktail. I really dislike buying $25 of gas and seeing the needle only go up halfway. However these are somewhat more justifiable since sometimes they are actually necessary...well gas is, at least. What I have a hard time convincing myself to buy are truly unnecessary things like computer equipment or movies/books/cds. While my peers eagerly fork out untold amounts of legal tender for these things every day, I spend in little spurts only every once in a while, and I'm still very picky about how much I'm willing to pay. This may not be an unhealthy attitude in today's world of hedonistic consumerism, it often stops me from buying even things that might be helpful. Another thought that always enters my head and puts on the breaks is "Is this really a wise use of the resources God gave you?" If I were a more generous man (sad to say I'm not), I could be donating large portions of my solvent assets to charitable causes which doubtlessly would make better use of it than I. I suppose this isn't an unhealthy attitude either, except that I, like all greedy and carnal humans, am loathe to watch large sums of my hard-earned cash go to things which reap no tangible benefits. I'm cool with giving what I've decided to give on my own, but I'd be hard pressed to give until it hurts. I'm just that selfish I suppose. But I digress, sorta. Well, not really. My conscience is convicting me ahead of time by casting doubt on the wisdom of some purchases, and I eventually overcome it with greed by hoarding my resources. Bah. This isn't where I wanted to go with this post. Now I need to go pray about it and try to feel bad that I'm rich and a lot of folks aren't.

How does God really expect us to be "in the world but not of the world"? Hey, didn'cha notice that we tend to enjoy things while we're down here? Whadd'ya mean by blessing some of us so much then not allowing us the privilege of liking it, but instead cast this onus of responsibility to everybody else? May as well not have given it to begin with, Big Buddy.

Gads, my understanding has become flawed lately. This is a bad development...

Well, I can now kiss a chapter of my life goodbye.

2005-07-28T17:27:00.000-07:00

I used to claim that I disliked Baroque music. However, having heard some of Bach's more expansive pieces, I've revised my opinion on the issue. It's not Baroque music that I dislike, but rather one component of the Baroque style. In fact, it's not even so much part of the style (though I've yet to hear it outside of music from that era), it's one musical instrument in particular: The harpsichord.

For those of you who don't know, the harpsichord is a keyboard instrument that almost predates the piano. They look like lanky, angular ripoffs of a grand piano. But whereas a piano strikes the strings with a padded hammer, the harpsichord, in a sad mockery of harpists, plucks them mechanistically when a key is pressed.

The result is the sissy, twinkly beng that characterizes the nauseatingly prim sound of the harpsichord. This irritating timbre is then typecast in innumerable uninteresting, heavily trilly chamber pieces.

Pianos are capable of great extremes of emotion, ranging from the most delicate love themes to the heights of furor and rage. By contrast, the dynamic and expressional capabilities of the harpsichord are singularly monotonous. It always produces the same tinny, disinterested twang no matter the application.

The harpsichord is the ill-tempered miniature poodle of musical instruments. It doesn't matter whether it's the featured voice or a part of the musical backdrop, it's irritating sound sneaks through the crowd and nips at the heels, turning an otherwise enjoyable composition into a chafing test of patience and an unwanted look into the stuffy, ceremonious world of 17th and 18th century European aristocracy. It's no wonder that only rich white people still suffer to listen to it.

Nonsensationalist Ramifications

2005-07-07T22:42:00.000-07:00

These words are tasty:

What I thought was, wasn't,
and what is, has a turnip.
Tried and true, the battleground speaks:
Legends of a former day
when staplers were the norm.
I thought I'd find more here,
but now it's just rotten potatos.

Stand firm, good sailor, you'll see port yet.
You can simply walk to the left.
Wiles the storm may show,
Amid the crashing foam,
Yet the cargo lies safe below.

I spoke with a cube the other day.
He told me I was too square.
His insight gave me new perspective.

I've a time to speak of.
It's noon on a Thursday.

Temptations the traitor tested
Made change seem irresponsible.
Advancing his cause with reckless abandon
Made more sense than these
But in the end were only a distraction.

Telissa and the whole sales team got fired

2005-07-01T23:51:00.000-07:00

Ahoy! minute six-leggèd friend,
Who on tiny gossamer wings doth fly,
Backdropped against his firmament,
My stature must seem infinitely high,

What cruel hand delivers fate!
The coiled periodical doth fall,
And thy truncated life is remembered here,
As a tiny stain upon my wall.

-BMW 7/1/05

Nothing makes you sweaty like exercise

2005-06-26T22:43:00.000-07:00

I've deemed bell peppers to be unfit for multi-day consumption. Freshly cut bell peppers are a wonderful treat: crunchy and watery, with a slight tang. Even day-old bell peppers are edible with a daub of ranch dressing, but beyond that, they get too dry and tough, like old farmers. Cooked bell peppers are even less persistent. Tthe first time you cook them and they're still warm they're a welcome addition to any dish with ethnic overtones, but beware lest you heat them a second time. They basically lose all the qualities that once made them bell peppers. The flesh becomes bitter and assumes a distinctly mucousy texture, which, instead of crunching, sort of oozes between your teeth with a sickening squelch. The skin, which on a freshly cooked pepper is tender and lends added texture, becomes tough and plasticine. The best comparison I can make is to the insulation you find around small gauge wire. Chewing it becomes a tiresome chore, compounded by the necessity of flossing afterward to dislodge the fragments that have knifed their way into your gums, which is itself another tiresome chore. In conclusion, the erstwhile delicious bell pepper, when cooked and reheated, becomes the Sith of vegetables, spreading misery and disgust to whatever unlucky denizens cross its path.

(part) 4 on the floor

2005-06-25T14:48:00.000-07:00

It's that time once again, kiddies. This is taking MUCH longer than I thought it would, but at least it allows me to keep putting off writing about the last day. If you're lucky I'll do it before I forget what happened. Enjoy...or don't, it's up to you.

Day Three: The Bucket Brigade
So now we had a roof over our heads, precariously propped up by concrete beams and sticks ground to ceiling the Mexican workers inserted for added support. The final step in construction was to pour a couple inches of concrete over the top of everything to solidify it. You might say it's the icing on the cake. Fortunately we had a machine on our side this time: a concrete mixer. I guess in previous years they've had to make a mountian of ingredients on the sidewalk then mix it with shovels. Glad I wasn't down there in previous years. So, recycling our wall-brick scaffolding from yesterday we formed another human conveyor belt from the mixer to the rooftop. The workers had somehow hoisted two wheelbarrows up there. I never really saw what they were doing up there anyway. Oh well. Our 2 gallon buckets were slightly lighter than the bricks, but we also lifted probably three times as many of them. I manned a wheelbarrow for most of the day, conveying half-mixers of concrete from the machine to the "elevator", and spent some time on the shoveling crew as well, filling our five-gallon measuring cups with sand and gravel. We polished off the two smaller roofs that day...boy was it a long day. We didn't finish until about 2pm. Lunch was some wonderful kind of fajitas, which for most of us simply became a mountain of food on our plates. Back home for showers and siestas. Most of us were rather late to VBS because we were simply exhausted. Some people went to the cenote briefly, but I didn't. I missed the whole thing, so you'll have to ask somebody else about it. I was supposed to be the High Priest in the Saul to Paul skit, but Matt Vargas was apparently a suitable understudy.

(Part) 3's company

2005-06-19T22:18:00.000-07:00

Keepin' on keepin' on, whether you schmucks read this or not, here's...

Day Two: Brick Your Back
The concrete beams we raised yesterday were the support for the approximately 500 cinder blocks, each weighing about 35 lbs, which constituted the main portion of the roof. We formed a mostly stable pyramid of blocks upon which three of us stood while several more more brought them blocks from the ground and an increasing number of people on the roof passed them on to Luis who quickly slapped them down into place. Props to Luis who was up there all day in the sun. I spent about half my time on the ground crew and half up top, with only a little on the top since I lack the upper body strength to hoist them above my head. Props also to Peter, Matt, and Joel, who did a lot of that. Alicia and Sara got into the act, being athletic and enthusiastic, and we much appreciated the extra teammates. Even anna, Jeff's 17 yr old daughter heaved bricks with us. It got interesting later when we were down to our last few bricks and we had to use up the pyramid. Fortunately the church had a surplus of wall bricks (which were a different shape) that we could use to build a (less stable) backup pyramid. Lunch that day was tacos which none of us will quickly forget, as they were mind-alteringly delicious. Maybe it was in part because we had already burned up our daily 2000 calories by then. No matter. Once again home for a cold shower and siesta, then back at 5 for VBS again. Alicia and I were sneering religious leaders in a skit about Jesus's healing of the paralytic (we borrowed one of the little boys) his friends lowered through the ceiling. Apparently everyone loved my facial expressions and comically condescending demeanor. I guess being weird has its advantages.

After dinner Armando, one of the church's deacons told us a little about himself and some background of the church. He migrated illegally to the states some years ago and worked and saved and sent money home to support his family. Then he moved back and opened a hardware shop in town. He's been blessed richly by a successful business there. His brother is an illegal immigrant working in Oregon and sending money back to his family in the village. He hasn't been home in over a year. Many of the men do that because there are simply no jobs in that region. Farming is hard because the soil is very rocky and small villages do not have tourist income to support them. Canada has a trade agreement with Mexico whereby Canadian industries hire Mexican workers directly for fixed terms, and pay their wages and living expenses for that duration. Unfortunately no such agreement exists in the states because labor unions would never allow it. However, 90% of illegal immigrants are people like Armando and his brother, who literally risk their lives to come work in the states so they can provide for their families back home. Anyone could tell you that Mexicans constitute the majority of the agricultural workforce, and here in CA, a majority of the construction workforce too. Think about that next time someone brings up immigration laws.

The church, which is Presbytary of Mexico, used to be the authoritarian regime of the former pastor and his cronies. One of them was even caught in adultery and he tried to cover it up and downplay it to retain his position of power. Finally some of the members, including Armando, worked up the gall to report them to the presbytary, which is a collective of elders from Presbytarian churches in the region that oversees them as an adminstrative body, including disciplinary action. They removed the former pastor and his comrades and replaced him with Pastor Ulysses, who is a very kind and godly man who preaches straight from scripture and clearly loves and glorifies the Lord in all things.

Hot Shots, Part Deux

2005-06-13T00:53:00.000-07:00

Quick, while I have working internet access, here's the next chapter. Wahoo!

Now, on to the fun. My story will be a lopsided portrayal because I wasn't involved with the women's or children's ministries, but I'll tell what involvment I had.

Day one: The Beam Team
In order to put the roofs on the three rooms under construction we had to lift a total of about 50 15 foot long 400 pound concrete beams 12 feet high and set them atop the walls...with nothing but out hands, sticks, and ropes. It took 5 of us to lift one, carry it about 150 ft. over to the room, then several more with long sticks to help the two or three standing on the walls hoist them up with ropes and push them into place. Nico and Luis were the heros of the wall. None of us were ballsy enough to stand up there and heave those things around. Definitely not an OSHA approved job site. Oh, and did I mention that it was about 95 degrees with 80% humidity? But that wasn't until noon, and we worked the whole morning to beat it. Nevertheless, sweat was pouring out of us like we were perforated. I think I put down about 32 oz. of water an hour. After lunch we went home for a much needed cold shower and siesta until 5 when VBS started. Felix and I taught a couple boys how to throw frisbees. I was a crowd member ignoring Zaqeo as he tried to see Jesus. Rather disorganized, but the kids thought it was funny. Dinner about 8, then we all hung out for a bit before going back home, another cold shower, and going to bed.

Stay tuned folks. Same bat-time, same bat-channel.

Microsoft to the rescue?

2005-06-12T00:24:00.000-07:00

Yeah yeah, I know I still owe you parts 2 through whatever of the Mexico experience. But there's a problem. Windows has decided it doesn't want me to use the internet. I have the darndest time connecting to anything, and I get a lot of dropped connections. In other words, my internet access now hobbles along on two broken legs, falling into ditches quite frequently. At first I thought it might be comcast, so I checked everything I could given my newfound disabilities, and found no evidence that it was my connection. So I checked the settings in my router. All kosher there, when I could get to them without losing the connection (that's a hint, boys and girls). So I boot into good ol' linux, which I haven't used in over a year. VOILA! Everything works exactly as it should.

So that narrows the problem down to windows. I guess I probably didn't need to do all that work to find that out. So in the mean time I'm gonna keep chipping away at winblows' resolve until I figure out what's killing my internet connection. Wish me luck.

A momentary interruption

2005-06-06T21:37:00.000-07:00

I'll post part two tomorrow, but I wanna get this in edgewise first. I feel like the only person who pays attention sometimes. This morning while I was driving to work I was in the center of 3 lanes with a white corolla in front of me and a mercedes following too closely behind a pickup in the lane to my left. The corolla driver signaled to move left and positioned himself between the mercedes and the pickup. She stays there for a few seconds waiting for the mercedes to let him in, which he completely fails to do. I was watching his head and he didn't even look, just kept right on going. So I decide to be the nice guy since there's nobody behind me. I slow down and let the corolla in and what does the mercedes guy do as soon as that's done? He jets out into my lane. I shook my head at that very one-wayed exchange.

Ironically the same guy ended up behind me making a right turn a little later. We were stuck behind a big box truck who, when he makes the right turn, drives right down the center of our two lanes. As I'm waiting for him to pick a lane, I signal to go left. Soon as the truck settles into the right lane I check behind me (good thing) to move over and Mr. Mercedes jets out around me and takes over. Again I saw his head, and again he seemed to be absolutely obilivious of my well-displayed intentions. He had this smug look on his face the whole time too...that mercedes must be compensating for something. I'm glad he thinks it's important to drive like a jackass...but then that's the rule, not the exception down here it seems.

The other incident was much less dangerous, and therefore more amusing. To get into our building we have to scan our badges on the RFID reader outside the door to unlock it. If several people are going through, only one needs to scan. So as I was walking quickly (as I'm wont to do) up the path to my building, I overtake a middle-aged woman heading in the same direction. I get to the RFID reader about 10 paces ahead of her and decide to be a gentleman and hold the door. I watch her as she totally ignores me, scans her badge, walks over to the door and only then notices that I've been holding it the whole time.

Maybe it's because I still have my youthful vigor, maybe it's because I eat much less sugar than the average American, or maybe something's wrong with me instead, but sometimes I just don't get people. Don't get the wrong impression, I thought all of this was pretty funny. A little pathetic maybe, but funny nonetheless. Granh.

Speak N Say (are the same thing)

2005-06-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

Alright alright, it’s been enough procrastination now. Here at last is the details of my trip to Mexico, hacked down into almost bite-size chunks for your reading pleasure. The trip lasted 8 days, from April 30th to May 8th. (Yes, my math is correct.) I’ll post these a few days apart so people have time to read it without feeling overwhelmed...you people have no idea how long this post might have been...

Day Zero: Liftoff
After nearly three months of preparation, the 17 of us arrived at the church parking lot between 10 and 11 am, luggage in hand and ready to go. There was some praying and some last minute sorting of bags (i.e. who would take the cooking equipment, sports stuff, toys, etc.) then we piled our bags into two large vans and were on our way. The one hour drive was marked with the typical jesting and boistrous conversation typical of a 20s subset. Upon arriving at SFO we checked in for the flight, checked all our bags, and began the long march down the terminal to our gate, having an overly expensive lunch.

A 4 hour flight to Houston (I saw how barren NV is and the oil fields of west TX), a two hour layover (Carol felt at home), a three hour flight to Cancún (it was dark by then, so nothing to look at), and a two hour bus ride to Valladolid (some played "Whiz Boing Bounce" and some of us attempted to sleep through their laughing).

We rolled in about 2AM. Saw my first scorpion at the hotel, on the stairs; about two inches long. One girl shouted "AUGH, It's moving!" to which somebody answered, "That would mean it's alive."

Bright and early we piled on the bus again, bags and all, and headed for our village, Teabo, which was about two hours drive from there. It ended up being closer to three because the highway suddenly vanished into a construction zone that looked more like a strip mining operation. The detour was a one-lane, hastily constructed dirt road that ran along side it and wound up and down and zig-zagged about over the rocky hills that hide beneath the Yucatecan jungle. I've never been off-roading in a charter bus before. But wait, there's more! Arriving in Teabo it became clear that Mexican towns are not built for tour busses. To get to the church, we had to abandon the attempt to get around one corner nestled between four cement buildings and three-point turn around two others. The drivers of those things deserve applause.

Disembarking and disembagging the bus, we were greeted by Roger (which has a strange pronunciation in Spanish), AKA El Sapo, who was the staffer of the organization that handles the projects we were participating in. He showed us the work that lay ahead for the men, the room converted into a kitchen for the women, and escorted us to the houses where we were to sleep. The families who normally lived there basically moved out for a week to accommodate us. The family of my house happened to have huts out back that they stayed in. Seen in the Yucatan, a lot of people still live in mud and stick huts with thatched roofs. However, the last hurricane that blew over killed enough people to convince the government to subsidize one-room cement & brick buildings for each household. A number of them have gradually evolved into two or three room houses for those who could afford it. More on that later maybe. Roger also showed us how to hang our hammocks and more importantly how to sleep in them. The proper method is diagonally, so it makes a flat spot for you to lay in. Unfortunately it still didn't save my back. We got ourselves situated and prepared for the week.

If this hasn't whetted your apetite, you'd better lay off the junk food, doofus.

General Hospital

2005-05-19T16:00:00.000-07:00

So the consensus seems to be that I should post my Mexico adventure in parts. Unfortunately, as I am leaving for a week in 4 hours, you don't get to read any of it yet. That and I haven't finished writing the last part yet. So I'll start posting them after I return on the 30th.

I found solace today in Romans 7. Lately I've been furiously upset with how my behavior never seems to change. I'm constantly reverting to old sin patterns, I'm constantly tempted by the same old crap, I'm constantly doing exactly what I purpose not to do and being exactly what I purpose not to be. Well it seems Paul thought rather the same of himself. His reasoning, however, is that since through Christ we are dead to the law, we no longer sin. That sounds somewhat contradictory, but then, so does my behavior. And there's a good reason for that: namely, that we are dead to sin Spiritually through Christ, but not yet bodily. For some reason, God decided not to make his Kingdom a physical one just yet. So we all live in this spiritual-carnal duality until Christ comes again and restores the Creation. The solace I found in this is that it doesn't seem I need to blame myself so much for the sins I commit, since I vehemently will not to commit them. It's the law of sin that's still governing my body that originates those behaviors. In a way, sin sins itself through my flesh. Fortunately, God looks at the heart before the history and I am delivered through Christ. Indeed God can change our behaviors by His Spirit, and indeed has in me over the years. My inner perfectionist isn't satisfied, of course, but maybe the Lord is. But until He returns, we just gotta put up with it, I guess. I'll never figure that one out.

Choices choices...

2005-05-15T21:22:00.000-07:00

My forthcoming summary of the Mexico trip is quickly expanding to monstrous proportions. Therefore I leave it to the vox populi to decide: Should I publish my travails one day at a time (which would leave you all hanging at day two or so when I leave again on thursday for WA), or should I finish up this week and publish one monolith entry covering everything (it's currently over 6 pages single spaced in Word)? Decisions must be made by Tuesday evening. Therefore everyone who actually checks this gets kudos for being prompt. If none of you twerps comment, I'll do the gargantuan one and then nobody will read it anyway.

Observatory

2005-05-11T18:14:00.000-07:00

I've discovered the world's best TV dinners: Marie Callender's Complete Dinner. A three course meal with meat, a staple, and veggies, easily prepared in the microwave in under 10 minutes. Last night I had roast beef in gravy, garlic mashed potatoes, and crisp green beans. And you know what? The dinner was exactly that! Tasted restaurant quality. Even the potatoes had nearly the right texture. 4 for $10 at Safeway this week. How do you do it, Marie Callender?

Speaking of TV dinners, I noticed a phenomenon. ALL makers of TV dinners include among their choices Salsbury Steak. It must be some kind of inside joke.

I had my first and only experience of motion sickness on the way back from Mexico. More info to come.

I've been really wishing I could just totally abandon the idea of relationships with women. I've been through the "Want it gotta have it" phase, and the "Damn, I'm lonely, I wish I had someone" phase, and the "It's a big waste of time and energy" phase, and now I'm moving into an "I wish those feelings would just stop bothering me." phase. I'm growing bitter, and that's not good, but there seems to be no other path. I question whether or not I will ever surrender the topic to the Lord enough for Him to let me actually build a lasting relationship (i.e. marriage). But is the Lord's arm really so short that my unconscious refusal to let Him handle it can actually prevent Him from doing so? I hope not.

I'm wearing my favorite shirt today, and I enjoy reading science textbooks.

Supercell

2005-04-17T22:08:00.000-07:00

I hate romance. I hate all the good feelings that are associated with it. No, that's not quite right. I'm afraid of Romance. I'm afraid of falling in love. And I'm afraid of starting over. I'm afraid of waiting forever too, although it's more tangible and familiar. Romance always just leaves me feeling sad in the end. I need a place to run to, but God keeps taking one step back. It's one of those things I haven't learned He's is better than. Wish I weren't such a slow learner. Wish I didn't try to take care of it myself. Wish in one hand, shit in the other. Either way, both hands stink.

Tears in the Alleyway

2005-04-16T23:54:00.000-07:00

I was giving thanks for lunch today, as I'm wont to do now, and I thanked God for being there for me. Then I thought, no, that's not right. So I thanked Him for simply being there. It reminded me of Psalm 139: "Where can I go from your Spirit, or where can I flee your Presence?" etc. etc. Suddenly I perceived myself as being uttely surrounded by God's presence, like being in cool water. My skin formed a boundary, defining my "space" from God's. But that wasn't right either. I was reminded that his Spirit also dwells within me as a follower of Christ. Suddenly the boundary became only a membrane, then seemed to vanish altogether.

I can see where those New Age folks get their nonsense from. In a way, we really are all connected to God, and within everything God is present. The mistake they make is to believe that the presence of God is defined by the presence of the object. Not so, since the object is the creation of God. God's presence defines the object's presense, and without God's presence, the object ceases to be. Somehow I feel like I've mentioned this before. And that's really all I intended to write, but as always, now I'm thinking about it...

It makes me wonder how hell is defined. I've heard it posited that even in Hell, God is present. Verse 8 seems to agree, "...If I make my bed in hell (sheol, the grave) behold, you are there." But it must be that His presence is different. I recall learning that God "turned his back" on Jesus as he hung on the cross. Surely God's presence never left, because Jesus continued to exist. (Besides, how could God be separated from Himself and still exist? Even Jesus argued that point.) It must not be a matter of presence. Perhaps it's a matter of regard. God holds those in hell in different regard. If you're having a drink with your good buddy Officer Mahoney and he sees you get into a car to drive, Mahoney no longer acts like your good buddy, but as Officer instead. Mahoney's presence has not ended, but his regard of you as a decent guy has. I wonder if that's how it is with God. Pity that some are unable to detect that change of regard when they choose to disregard Him.

Touch the Apricot; Watch Nightline

2005-04-12T18:10:00.000-07:00

I now have conclusive proof that sugar is bad for you. In a heroic attempt to shift my lagging circadian rhythm to more preferable hours, I've been forcing myself to get up at 6 and making valiant tries to get to bed before 11. As you might expect, I haven't been terribly successful at the latter. The former became easier when I moved my alarm clock out of arms' reach. However, the concatenating loss of sleep is having its effect on me. Additionally, several of my co-workers have been out sick this week, probably from the stress of the design review last week. It was a drain on everybody. There's your context.

Now for the interesting part. Today I attended an informal lunch meeting with Bob Thomson, the VP of my business unit at work. His intention was to get acquainted with the new folk (such as myself) and give us a chance to acquaint ourselves with him as well as ask whatever questions we had on our minds. Contrary to his expectations though, most of us asked questions about the future of our program and how we measure up to our competitors in our market, as well as issues facing aspects of the program now from finances to design.

Lunch was graciously provided: Togo's sandwiches (It's like Quiznos, only a larger menu), chips, and sodas. I drank two pepsis, then found some luscious white cake in the executive area kitchen, where leftovers go from executive briefings and so on, so I took a slice. Within minutes, I began to notice a tingle in the back of my throat. This tingle quickly escalated to the typical burning and swollen sensation of inflamed glands. (My adenoids are always to blame before my tonsils.) By the end of the day I had even achieved the ubiquitous full-body ache which so often accompanies a cold. I drank a bottle of 100% pure premium florida orange juice, but to no effect. When I got home I downed vitamin C, but I fear my efforts are fruitless and vain. I warned my manager that I wasn't feeling well, and he's really cool so he understood. He himself was out sick last week.

If I'm going to get sick, this is a good week to do it, because I have to work this Friday, and it's still two weeks before Yucatan, so I have time to recover. The thing about Fridays is that I technically have every other one off, but I've been working them all to acquire "comp time" which I can use like vacation hours, which I AM using like vacation hours, for the Yucatan trip and also for a vacation to WA.

In case you all are wondering what the "Yucatan trip" is, you have good reason to be confused, since I haven't posted anything about it yet. The jig is up here: I and 18 compatriots from the aptly yclept 20's group (my bible study & fellowship group at church) are flying to Cancun, then venturing on to a remote Mayan village somewhere on the Yucatan Peninsula to assist the local church with construction of their sanctuary. This likely means hauling concrete by hand and working in non-OSHA approved environments. Huttah! Preparing for the trip has been interesting for me.

To be honest, I haven't really thought much about it, other than the duties I volunteered for, which are procuring Scriptures for the trip. My attitude is really open: I'm gonna go, God hasn't prevented that yet, and I'm gonna do what's given to me, and see what happens. I'll leave it up to God to decide what my fate is. If this was a major blunder on my part for not praying my ass off about it, maybe I'll contract Malaria and die. Oh well, I'd get to be with Christ that much sooner, I suppose. I can't really defend the fact that I haven't prayed much about it. That's probably to my detriment. However, I get the same feeling about this trip as I did about going to UW, staying at UCU, majoring in EE, and accepting my job here in CA; that is, it just seemed like the thing to do, and lo and behold it was, and I see that God has been guiding me the whole time, honing my character by and by. So we'll see if this is the same. I'm actually thankful to have such an empty agenda about it, it's rather freeing. Perhaps this is what it means to be in His will: that we can go through our lives doing this and that and not feel any obligations one way or the other, but that God will do stuff through us no matter what it is.

In other news, I've been exceedingly lazy and my hair has gotten quite long. It now comes down just past my eyebrows if I pull it tight against my forehead. That said, I've had to start "styling" it in the morning, which entails me getting it wet, then combing it with my fingers. I've been parting it recently, and folks tell me I look older somehow. I'll let you be the judge. Eventually you'll get tired of my ugly mug and wish I hadn't posted the pictures. Well now you must suffer! Cheerio.

思い出はいつも甘い逃げ場所

2005-03-25T19:31:00.000-08:00

Hey check it out, while randomly sifting through some of my old files, I found a link to the blog I had created to journal my trip to Japan in 2003. Reading the entries brings back a lot of fond memories, but you can tell I was different back then. Maybe it's exaggerated because I remember how I was, but God has done some strange things in me over the years. Well, here it is. It constitutes the rest of this entry by proxy. At least my penchant for long entries hasn't waned much since then. :-D

Lessons on Becoming Emptied

2005-03-13T23:55:00.000-08:00

Primary:
Read these two articles first.
Total Surrender
God's Total Surrender to Us

Secondary:
This is too much for me. I can't attain it. I can't wrap my mind around what is necessary to be that way. Am I that far from God that I can't even conceive of the kind of surrender He asks? I guess all my talk is just that--talk. So much for running the race, I'm having a hard time getting to the starting line. It's somewhere between defiant and incredulous, but if the Lord expects such things of me, He's gonna have to effect them Himself. I have to give up before I even try; I don't have enough strength to get in position even. I sure hope this isn't the final outcome.

Tertiary:
Lord, I can only seem to think in terms of asking what I can do to be near you. But your methods are so unorthodox. You don't expect doing from me, just surrender to let you do through me. But I can't understand surrender. It seems I need you in order to need you. Such second order desires weary me. If I can't do, what will you do? When will you, or are you already? I imagine your sovereignty includes the perogative to work invisibly. I'm sorry, but I don't like that. I "need" to see results, or I don't believe. Seeing is believing, so they say. Please help me to go it the other way around, as you desire of me. Amen.

Who? What? Which? Why? Who? When? Where?

2005-03-05T23:09:00.000-08:00

A high of 72 degrees. My favorite shirt. Sparkling clean car. Little snails. Choking fumes of wintergreen. Dry roasted. High-performance Synthetic Oil. No more tears, no more time. Flying on the white earth. Enough to do, but not too much. A sudden desire to speak Japanese. Free amusement park with one person. I'm running out of socks. Simplify, simplify. Communion isn't just for Sundays anymore! The blessedness of NOT being in love. Wide open skies beckon. A solved Rubik's cube. Boards of Canada, et. al. Friends forget those who leave. Dancing for me and the Lord. Nails and hammers and chainsaws, oh my! All caught up. Healthy eating makes a difference. The fortune cookie is WAY too early. Another pair of eyes would be nice. Tune out the squishy thoughts, if possible. O-bento. Oh, boy. Oh man, it's 8 bucks? Is one drink a day too much? I wonder if it's better not to think too much. Freshly made juice. Bad posture. Less knee pain; less $200, no relation. It's for Yucatan. Have I been avoiding you, God? Oh, mou ima desu ka? My insurance company keeps raising my premiums for fun. It's less of an effort to talk with Him, though. Ben is recovering. Parched and sleepy. A bent, wry grin.

He lets me keep my fingers.

2005-02-24T20:53:00.000-08:00

I got jealous over Kenton's beautiful new puppy, so I was out sulking in the salt marshes behind Lockheed Martin's facility. As I was wading in pools of inorganic compounds, I happened upon a new friend. So I took him home. I've named him GFRAARLGNH after his adorable refrains. I'm in the process of potty training him. Right now he has a tendency to leave droppings on the stairs outside, which are quite slippery and cause you to see things that aren't there, but soon enough he'll make his way to the dumpster without my coaxing him with fresh solvents. Here's a picture of the little guy. Isn't he awexome?

He had a challenging day

2005-02-22T00:18:00.000-08:00

One of my friends here had a mental breakdown this evening. He was incredibly anxious at first and kept getting more and more out of control. We had to chase him across a parking lot and physically restrain him for a good half hour until we called 911 and the police and paramedics arived. He was shouting odd things over and over at the top of his voice, throwing his belongings and clothing away from him, straining towards unseen things; he attempted to attack one of us, and kept asking meaningless questions and saying strange lies. He calmed down after the police arrived and restrained him, but he was still mumbling nonsense and making bizarre gestures at nothing in particular. He kept asking who "the cold people" were who were behind and about him. They finally took him away to the ER, so he's in good hands now, but it was still incredibly frightening. They'll do a psychiatric evaluation and test for drugs or neurochemistry problems, and we'll see what happens from there. If you like, please pray for him. He's normally a very reserved, quiet, lucid, and intelligent sort of fellow and he was everything but that tonight. I know he'll be alright, but I'm still asking the Lord to stand by him tonight. I've never seen anyone so frightened and panicked and...well...crazy in all my life. I hope I don't have to again.

Hyakugojuuichi

2005-02-12T23:19:00.000-08:00

While Kenton is out wading in the riverbeds of the New Mexico desert, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to study the (traffic) stream fauna of the California highway system since I came here. What I have uncovered is astounding, though it is not uncommon knowledge. Nevertheless, I feel its significance merits a small measure of analytical devotion, so that the rest of the world (i.e. the three people who read this blog) may know what to expect should you visit the Golden State. The following gives a brief summary of the various species I have encountered in my day to day translations.

Megalomaniacs: Most dangerous of all, the megalomaniac drives like everyone else is just an obstacle to get around as fast as possible. Has little to no regard for traffic laws and must be No. 1 at all costs. What No. 1 means on a freeway, nobody knows for sure.

Redneck Racers: A variety of megalomaniac who invariably drives a pickup truck exhibiting varying degrees of dilapidation, vehicular hygiene, and work- or outdoor sports-related customizations.

Phil DeGapp: Has an insatiable need to reduce the space between him and the next car as much and as quickly as possible.

Scaredy Cats: Perpetually 5-10 mph under speed limit. Likes to drive in the very center lanes, where normal traffic belongs. They feel most at home in the parking lot. I was surprised to find this breed even existed on the highways, but they’re far more prevalent than one would expect.

Pushers: Drives so close behind everyone that you can see the whites of his eyes...those horrible beady little eyes…

Shove-its: Related to Pushers, they view real traffic like the gridlock puzzle. If they could telekinetically shift your car into a better position for them, they would. But they can’t, so they settle with trying to use their auto to do it.

Speeders: Actually know how to drive very fast on the freeway while being relatively safe. Think of other drivers as potential competition. Usually drive oversized go-karts with coffee cans for mufflers. Spoilers are apparently a symbol of sexual prowess, and some speeders double or triple their spoilers in a vain attempt to get chicks.

Color Blind: Can’t tell a yellow light from a red one, even though they’re in different places on the signal. Very self-absorbed, they expect everyone to wait for them to clear the intersection whether it’s their turn or not. They are forward-minded, and are always looking for ways to push the boundaries of what running a red light really means.

ADDs: Aren’t able to just drive their cars; they must always be doing something else, be it have a cup of coffee, read the paper, discipline the kids, shave, do makeup, play the oboe, etc.

Flappers: Their cell phones have grafted to their ears. The majority of them favor having their most deeply emotional, traumatic, or distracting conversations while driving. You can also find these in the supermarket loudly relating intellectually stimulating dialog to their conversant such as, “Yeah, I’m in the supermarket, on the cereal aisle. No, I just came to get a few things. Afterwards I’m gonna go buy a new thong at Wal-Mart.” *shudders in horror*

Extremists: Their cars are always described with superlatives: lowest, fastest, shiniest, tallest, loudest, muddiest, biggest tires, highest suspension, most opulent, etc. They’re all clearly compensating for something.

Mystery Men: A variety of extremist that has the darkest possible window tint installed in his luxury vehicle. They prefer to be unknown, and their driving style is equally unknowable. It is suspected that the majority of them are pencil-neck computer engineers with big salaries.

Dieters: This variety of driver is so morbidly obese that they lower the suspension on their side of the car. They nearly always drive sub-compact cars. As it is when walking, they’re always the slowest ones on an uphill, straining their engines to the max.

Audiophiles: Enjoy their music so much they insist everyone within a 500 ft radius be able to hear it. They especially appreciate music with vulgar lyrics.

Biohazards: Have not had their car smog checked since it rolled off the assembly line, which was probably before the smog check cutoff date anyway. Keep them downwind at all times if possible unless asphyxiation is one of your pastimes.

Bicyclists: Usually have a silver spoon up their butt and are convinced they are motorists too because they’re on wheels. They act like they own the road when really they’re just throwing their lives away on the streets. They suffer from acute identity crises and low sperm counts.

DUIs: Every society has a drug culture, and the roads are no different. This scourge eventually eliminates itself from the population one way or another. Unfortunately they tend to eliminate more than just themselves.

Good drivers: Endangered species, possibly extinct in CA.

CHiPs: Ostensibly present to enforce traffic laws, nobody is sure they really exist. Sightings are few and usually from questionable sources. It is rumored that the whole thing is a government conspiracy. Their phantom presence does little to deter most from breaking traffic laws in some fashion.

A few supercatgories are worth mentioning. These may apply to any of the above mentioned drivers except, obviously, good drivers. Originally CHiPs were de facto exempt from the following, however recently obtained data has disproved this hypothesis.

Idiots: An all-encompassing term for the aforementioned drivers. It is usually the first cry of identification out of a person’s mouth when encountering one of them.

Osmosis drivers: Pass from one lane to another very slowly. They are eventually absorbed into the other lane after an extended period of time.

Indecisives: Can't settle in their minds which lane they actually want to be in and so change lanes constantly.

Think-Fasts: Give you a “warning” that they’re changing lanes by letting their turn signal blink once and then diving into their new position.

Everybody else: Changes lanes with no warning whatsoever. They assume everyone else is Borg, sharing the exact same thoughts as theirs.

Myopics: Insist on pursuing the car in front of them as closely as possible. They may be attempting to inspect the other car’s aft section for subtle defects.

Screechers: Wish they were jack rabbits; they feel they must be first out of the gate, so to speak, by constantly stomping on their accelerators at green lights. These do not mix well with the Color Blind class of driver.

Half-Wits: These are the converse of screechers: half-wits have a nervous deficiency that causes extremely delayed reaction to stimulation by green light.

A fair 10 minute walk to the dish

2005-02-04T22:23:00.000-08:00

My cactus, Pins, is sporting a healthy tiara of majestic magenta blooms these days. A year or two ago some malicious fiend burned off all his spines while I was away over Christmas two years ago. But fortunately they didn't damage his nubs, and by and by he's been growing new ones and they have been gradually moving the old ones down towards his base. In fact, he's now about 55% restored. I owe it to the gracious and painstaking care of Kenton, who conscientiously nursed him back to health while I was away in rooms without direct sunlight. Thanks Kento! But the flowers are the result of the cactus food Holly gave me a while back. Thanks Holly! Anyway, I snapped a picture of him with the webcam. The color doesn't do him justice; his flowers are much prettier in natural light to the unhindered eye. Behold his majesty!

A death in the family

2005-01-31T23:09:00.000-08:00

So what do you do when the woman you thought l***d you and want to m***y says she thinks she wants to pursue marriage with someone else?
Prayer and trust ought to suffice.
The Lord is working something out.
Wish I were more convinced of that.

Sometimes God washes away the sand we try to ground ourselves in, and we are left with nothing to lean on but Him.
It always hurts to see that old pride go, but we never miss it once it's gone.
What's there left to do now?
Submit humbly to the One who orchestrates the stars and the rushing of each blade of grass in the breeze;
look in earnest to the Rock that is higher than I.
My heart grows weary of sugary soft drinks, it's time to drink living Water.
Fill this emptiness, O Populator of worlds!
Pack it in till every pore oozes that which You are, till it overflows into every corner of my sphere.
And may it never be any different.
Let my life be a summation, and not a balance sheet.
Begin in me the market of Spirit where gifts received are gifts outpoured;
where flux and turbulence ripple every stagnant pool.
I want the sky to fall if it brings You nearer.

What an excellent sister you are!

2005-01-10T22:51:00.000-08:00

Don't feel like you have to apologize. I know it just came out. So did mine, but I meant it too. And honestly, it felt like saying it to family more than anything. Let it be, sister, let it be. I dedicate this song, written by more perceptive people than me, to you in gratitude.

Images on the sidewalk speak of dream's descent
Washed away by storms to graves of cynical lament
Dirty canvases to call my own
Protest limericks carved by the old pay phone

In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"

Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on
Tales of broken souls, an eternity's been won
As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man
My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again

In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"

-Jars of Clay, "Art in Me"

What're you lookin at?

2005-01-06T22:44:00.000-08:00

Here's a VERY intriguing interpretation of apocalytpic prophecy in the Bible as it relates to the current world situation. I especially like the author's presentation of the "timeline", so to speak, of the Gospel. I highly recommend you read it and take some time to evaluate what you're really living for.

Islamic terrorism and the end times

Nobody smiles when a romance dies

2005-01-02T01:00:00.000-08:00

We are not very good at this spiritual stuff, but we sure think we are at first. We think we know what it means to have joy and peace as long as everything's going great, but as soon as things take a turn for the worse, we're no less confused and upset as any pagan. And even less than that, sometimes when things just don't go as we planned, we find ourselves confused and upset. In fact, I'd dare to say that a lot of christians are more confused and upset than other people because once our little God-bubble has been burst, it brings into question some things we thought we could take for granted.

"Wait, you mean God's will isn't exactly what we were planning on?"

It's very likely. Are you God? Are you above Him so that your plans will thereby be His? If you think so, seek professional help. Most of us, myself included at times, breeze through life doing what we please and giving little regard to God except on Sunday and perhaps various other pockets of worship. But James 4 warns "As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil."

"Ok, but I already plan my life through prayer and whatnot, but things still turned out badly. It hurt a lot! Where's this supposed goodness God has? What happened to the joy I felt?"

Are you sure it was joy and not just happiness? This is what I mean by us not being good at this spiritual stuff. Unfortunately, the sin of Adam, which we're all troubled by, has dimmed our spiritual eyes. Not only are we myopic when it comes to seeking God, but we often totally disregard the presence of the unfriendly spirits who would rather we turn our heads away completely. Yeah, that's how some of those weird, sick ideas get in there, even if you did leave the door open.

I will admit that joy and the "peace which passes all understanding" are somewhat elusive, especially in our world today; I'm not really any better at this stuff than you are, remember. But before you start beating your head against the wall, wondering why you never have the tranquility Jesus Christ promised, let's take a look at Psalm 22 first.

Just read the first bloody line! "My God, My God, why have you forasaken me?" This was the "man after [God's] own heart" saying this. Why would a guy so close to the Almighty be asking where He went? The whole first half of the psalm is David's diatribe about how much he's suffering and isn't being saved. But it gets better than that. The same words from that first line were quoted by Jesus himself as he hung on the cross and bore the punishment for all our sins.

Now there's a curious thing! The Son of God, God Himself, wondering where God went. Didn't he already know what was going on? Perhaps the burden he carried drove him to temporary madness of a sort. My guess is that in the back of his head he knew, but his distress was so great that it seemed the only fitting thing to say. None of us have ever really been separated from God, no matter how bad it's been here, so we can't compare.

Still, both of these men knew that God is everywhere, so why'd they ask? I would venture to guess that they weren't doubting Omnipresence, but questioning what God was up to. There's an important difference between doubting and questioning. Doubt is a refusal to believe and it's not looked upon favorably in Scripture. Questioning means you don't know, but you'd like to. It expresses a humble willingness to learn.

Imagine being in a math class. (Oh, just do it,you'll survive.) The teacher is rambling on about parameterizing surface differentials in spherical coordinates, and you're just not getting it. Now you don't doubt that what the teacher is saying is true (if he's qualified), but you'd like some help wrapping your mind around it, so you raise your hand and ask, and the teacher, who's a pretty nice guy, is happy to help you out. Congratulations you've just questioned something without doubting it. It's easy, see?

Fortunately, God's a pretty nice guy too and He lets us ask Him questions in like manner--innumerable questions if need be!--to get a better understanding of what He's doing or wants from us. And it's a darn good thing, too. Even with our spiritual glasses on we often haven't the faintest idea of what it means to have joy and peace. It would be like asking me, the bachelor who prefers the meal-in-a-bag from safeway, to prepare Duck á l'Orange by dropping off the ingredients at my house and saying "Go for it, bucko!" You're not gonna like what you see, or taste, or probably smell, too, because not only did you leave me without a recipie, I don't have the necessary cooking apparati with which to make said gourmet dish. While we're stuck here in this ball of dirt, we are in much the same condition spiritually, only we have a bit more to work with. We have the tools, but they're awful rusty from disuse.

So when you're wonding why your world's spinning backwards and upside-down, feel free to raise your hand and say "Hey, hey God? Yeah. Umm, a little help here!" and he will be happy to oblige. Too many of us don't ask either because we don't think He'll answer, or we're afraid of what He might say. Heaven forfend we should have to experience PAIN, that highest evil according to all the humanists. Well they're full of crap. Besides, fear cripples. That's not meant in bad taste, but to get you to think about what it really means.

Anyway, question God all you want, but be careful not to move into the sphere of doubt, for then you tread on dangerous ground. But He's always patient, always willing to teach, always waiting for you to ask Him. As long as you're willing to be humble and learn, He'll always answer you.

And at least He's not trying to make Duck á l'Orange out of your soul.

And now, your moment of Zen.

2004-12-28T23:25:00.000-08:00

How often we take for granted some of the simple pleasures in life, like urination. Nothing feels better than a good pee. Of course we never realize this until we've been stuck in the car for three hours or drunk way to much soda before the movie started.

Stopwatch

2004-12-27T03:35:00.000-08:00

In a moment of defeat: synapses lapsing,
The world plays a siren tune, each minute passing,
Pulls you in and pulls you down amid the laughing,
Join the party, join the fun. Pneumatoxin gassing.

Take a ride on the roller coaster marked with flame,
And leave behind your apprehensions of guilt and shame.
Put an end to the uphills and the hard-won gain,
If you go up, you go down, it's all the same.

Gained trust and planted seed feeds on the inner pride,
As I turn in innocence to my unsavory guide.
Convinced that in the end he's really on my side:
"Nevermind the consequences here's where you can hide."

"Take the hit, take the draught, and get yourself high.
For a time we can forget our duties and our lives.
You can trust me to elate if you'll only come nigh.
Today will be a golden day as we touch the sky."

Lured in by devious measure I choose the selfish path,
Discounting all the outcomes and potential aftermath,
Ignore the possibility of injury and wrath.
Spurned and weakened faith drowns in the self-focused bath.

Drinking in the pleasure makes the senses spin,
And for a moment all is focused on the feeling within.
But when the mammon is all spent rational thought can begin,
And what's retained is not the feeling, but reality of sin.

Having had his way he moves on, turns his back, and ignores me.
Nothing left inside but hatred: my own spirit deplores me.
Shattered remains of my decisions lie mocking before me.
Who would have the power to reach down and restore me?

Forgetting for a moment that most costly Grace,
I turn myself away and hide it from the Master's face.
Wishing I could only find my steps again, retrace,
But I'm disoriented here in this consuming place.

Then through the twisted sky above comes one incredible ray.
It pierces through the mist and turns black night into day.
It makes a burning in my eyes and I must turn away,
Until I see a gilded exit; a sure, narrow way.

Bewildered and unsure I step soft into it's light.
Wanting anything but death I let it do what it might,
Agony as I have never felt: the old Adam's fight,
And find that painful though it was my stains are brilliant white.

As I ascend I see the trap that I was in before,
And find its power wilts, illuminated; tempts no more.
Welcoming arms of a Creator seek only to restore.
And falling on my knees I can do naught but adore.

And onward, ever upward does this steep path climb,
Atop the summit waits Communion with the true Divine,
Who has inhaled every evil, every flesh-made crime,
And every episode is banished in a moment of time.

...could take the light rail straight to...

2004-12-19T23:55:00.000-08:00

My family is here. Glad they made it safely. It is a blessing I had sorely underestimated. Almost makes me wish I weren't living on my own so far away from them. But God brought them down here for Christmas so I'm happy.

The USPS is against me. They delivered Mattia's christmas present on saturday while I was away, but after the concierge closed. Now it's trapped there and we're leaving monday before it opens at 5pm. Alas.

I was sad that I hadn't been able to find any bubble tea places here, in spite of the large asian population. This week I found THREE! One in the mall, which I despise going to because it's always crowded and hectic. I think the people there make it that way psychosomatically. The other two are almost next door to itself in this mini Beijing I found in the form of a shopping center in Milpitas, which is not even 5 miles away. I look forward to enjoying a good bubble tea now and again. By the way, I recommend trying something made with Durian. It tastes sweet, but has a very...er...distinctive aroma.

I have achieved the pinnacle of geekiness. I borrowed "An Introduction to Plasma Physics" from one of my coworkers to read over vacation. I dare you to do worse.

It's midnight and we have stuff to do tomorrow, including more travelling, so I bid thee ado. Please wish us well to the Lord, the freeways are a battleground in the Golden State.

Leave a comment with your favorite equation and I will be much obliged. See y'all in a week.

Which Describes How You're Feeling

2004-12-13T18:51:00.000-08:00

I've sought so hard to sustain this gain
Now watch me give this ground away
What can i do but admit I'm in over my head?
Colors fade from blue to dark red
I'm back into a corner by my choices
I'm hearing those same dark voices
At the mercy of my desires helpless, trivial
I'm left with no defenses
Stimulus, response, repeated failures-I'm sick
This sickness fills my senses
But despite my apparent loss I see release
This Stalemate, my peace

Your wilderness is Stalemate
You can't move against me
Stalemate
The walls built around me

But as this theme continues to follow close behind, I see so clearly
If I would only let go of my tendencies
I would know what it is to be free
I can't win when I indulge this fantasy
Reduced as a pawn led to misery
"A little detour won't hurt, let me change you slowly
A moment's pleasure, but you'll owe me."
All encompassing defeat awaits the day
I choose to plunge and embrace this nightmare
But the night has an end and I see you
and you see me as the dawn of the one
Who has adopted my ailment, my sickness
My Stalemate reveals my blindness to my own condition

I'll still run away from six seconds of defeat, six years of agony
I'll still stand at odds with six seconds of defeat, six years of agony

I'm senseless, erode my senses
To fill my day with indulgence which leads to my undoing
I'll never look back, I'll never taste it again.

“Stalemate” by Project 86

The Vegetable Doxology

2004-12-02T20:30:00.000-08:00

Praise God from whom all carrots flow.
Praise him for red beans here below.
Praise him for broccoli and for peas.
Praise him for big garbonzo beans.
Amen.

My fancy blue pentagon.

2004-11-30T20:49:00.000-08:00

Two drinks I've "invented" using my favorite liquor: Rum.

1. Bryan's Special-Tea
1 cup black tea (strong)
1/2 shot dark rum (I like Meyer's)
1 dash French Vanilla syrup (Careful, it's potent)
Sugar and cream to taste
Mix and stir gently.

Makes a good after dinner drink, or something to warm you up on a cold night.

2. Electric Ginger Ale
1 shot rum (try spiced too)
2 oz apple juice
8 oz 7up
Pour over ice and stir gently

Tastes just like ginger ale, I swear! Good refreshing fizzy drink.

I'm always experimenting with my friends and relatives liquor cabinet. One time I made a brandy and coke. Very good. Doesn't have the bite of rum. Anyway, Later.

Advice: Always drink responsibly. The world doesn't have enough spare change to pay for your irresponsibility.

One lonely phonograph

2004-11-18T23:28:00.000-08:00

Since terse, disjoint blog entries seem to be in style, I thought I’d give it a whorl. Context will cost you extra.

Opera keeps eating my blog entries. I don’t like it. But now I get to reword it.

My battle with cooking is ancient history. Even I barely remember it. I saved a draft, but I probably won’t finish it because I no longer remember the incident with the same energy I did when I originally sat down to write it.

They’ve got me going on a new project now. Seems I’ve done all I can for the other one so it just faded away like the co-workers who used to sit around me. They got their clearances so now they’ve gone to secure places to do secure work. I’m still insecure, but not for long. I was interested, if a little dismayed, to hear that sometimes senior engineers like to cut corners then obstinately claim their “design” meets spec because of “heritage,” even when it’s bloody obvious it doesn’t. I hope I never get that lackadaisical about my job.

My interest in Japanese has been re-awoken. Now I just have to have my family bring down my textbooks so I can unforget what’s hiding just out of reach. まだ日本会話パートナーを見つけたいだけど。

God’s been doing some housecleaning recently. Overturning furniture, sweeping out dusty corners, taking out piles of garbage that were hidden under the rug, emptying skeleton closets. I’m glad to see most of that stuff go. I just wish I had noticed the smell before someone else had to alert me and then cancel their reservation. Turns out there’s a little structural damage, even. Best put on the hard hat of salvation and the safety vest of righteousness, Jesus is raising the hammer of his Spirit, which is his Word.

Thus, we’re on a temporary sabbatical while we hold respective focus groups with the Spirit to determine the situation and what to do about it. On the surface it seems quite complicated and confusing. And the uncertainty is so thick you could cut it with a knife. But I have a question to pose that cuts through a lot of things:

Why would you give up just because there’s a possibility that you might fail?

Everything we do has the possibility of failure. And quite often we meet failure nose to nose. But that doesn’t stop us from doing things. It didn’t stop our Lord from going forth, though he sweat blood over it. You could die tomorrow, does that keep you from going outside?

Why cut off God’s present blessing because you fear what you think might happen?

Fear cripples. To quote Switchfoot, “My fears have worn me out.” My fears about this have worn me out, too. But I refuse to climb inside an insulated box, thinking it might save me from future trouble. I’ve walked that road before and it leads to desolation.

I suppose I’ve already made up my mind about the attitude I’m going to carry with me: This is an exceedingly important matter to me. Therefore I will continue on, wait even beyond hope, and ask for God’s guidance in administering myself. I still have an obligation to protect and uphold my family in Christ. And I still have an obligation to keep Christ at the center of my life.

But as major an event as this is, it is still periphery in the end. My primary goal is to obey God and worship him. Whatever else happens is ultimately of little importance. If things change, let them change! If the whole world caves in on me, what is it to me but a temporary crisis? My God is gracious and will pick up the pieces of his shattered servant and rebuild me to his Glory. I would rather live knowing this, than to die fearing change.

And we have total freedom in Christ. Through his Grace and Salvation, and his Spirit within us, he creates a framework in which we are to live our lives. He sovereignly directs the structure of that framework, but within it, he grants us free will to lead our lives as we please. This is an amazing thing! It means that God really does let me live as I please so long as I remain within the framework of his Will. I can do God’s will by working here or somewhere else. I can do God’s will by marrying one girl or another. I can do God’s will by ministering to the elderly, the impoverished, the crippled, or a foreign people. The Lord ultimately knows what path I will take, for he has ordained it, but to me the choice is mine as far as what he chooses not to command me Himself.

But don’t get me wrong. Our choices, even within God’s framework, are not ultimately our own since it is his Spirit that guides us in all things. This seems to set up a contradiction, but in fact it’s more of a duality: both are true without negating the other. We do not even exist except by His Word, nor do we come to Christ but by his Spirit, nor are we capable of pleasing Him in this flesh but by his Spirit, so our actions are not our own. But to us he gives free will, even knowing the final outcome, because he desires that we choose him with our hearts. That still sounds contradictory, but God is a great mystery, who can know his thoughts or understand the way he does things? I’m content to leave it at that—it’s quite possible I don’t have the capacity to understand. But given that duality, I as yet see no conviction against choosing to remain steadfast, and I can be confident in that choice because of my freedom in Christ. Nothing, even “the worst possible thing” can separate me from Him, so while my emotions may fly all over the map, at least I can trust in His constancy and move without fear in this world.

That was the longest diversion. We now return you to your regularly scheduled discontinuities.

Katie is a punk rocker and Sarah is a sweetheart. And I wish I were back at UCU, looks like everyone’s having such a great time there this year. Praise God for the way he has transformed that place before my very eyes!

…oscillating high-frequency super-radiating electro-techno-hypno…

My word, it's almost 2am. I'm getting to old for this. That's sad...I'm 23 and I can't stay up till the wee hours anymore. Such is life. But at least (for now) I don't have homework. Yeah, that's gonna change soonish. But hey, can't argue with a free masters from Stanford (If the Lord wills).

"So I'll cling to the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down.
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown."

Bags of frozen vegetables are an excellent source of broccoli.

2004-11-01T20:54:00.000-08:00

I feel sorry for you guys, waiting with all expectancy for me to post again. Well I'm not gonna do it now. I had a post going about my battle against cooking, but the computer ate it and now it doesn't seem pertinent to tell it, although I have fought a few more battles since then. I'll resurrect it soon, but not right now.

Things that are going on at this time:
My project at work is coming together after almost two months.
Tia and I have received some divine intervention and are working on being patient and waiting on the Lord.
California is expensive, and my drivers licence makes me look like I'm basted in an amber glaze.
I've made several friends in the PBC 20s group and felt very welcomed. Fellowship is an exceedingly blessed thing. I have been doing a lot of things with them recently.
It's still in the 70s here during the day. NEENER NEENER NEENER!
I garfed my knee playing on a giant inflatable slide. Not what I need being more active these days.
I have a dwindling collection of jellybeans.
My IDM library is expanding quickly, which makes driving others around exquisitely amusing.
God continues to modify me internally, and that's a good thing.

One of these days I'll get around to posting again. By then you will all have forgotten me. The end.

This Just In

2004-10-10T22:01:00.000-07:00

Update:

I called mom (God bless her!) because I needed to hear a familiar voice. I cried for a few minutes. I haven't cried in a very long time. Mom hasn't seen or heard me cry like that since I was a little kid. It was refreshing. Then we had a nice long chat about various things. I talked to some other folks online as well.

I'm still not sure what to do though. The fears and anxieties I've been feeling touch parts of my character that I simply can't access. That's annoying, because I want, very fervently, to change these things about myself. They're a lack of trust in God, an exposé of how weak my faith is. I suppose it's one more thing to add to the laundry list of character flaws I'm praying for God to work on, but geez! Will it ever end?

One thing mom and others said is that I need to get connected with a group of my peers and have a social life. DEFINITELY. It's so hard hearing about how everyone else's lives are bustling: friends they're seeing, things they're doing, places they're going, and not be able to share those experiences with them. Please, be gentle when you tell me how fun and exciting your lives are and how much fun you're having with other people. Chances are, I wish I could be there with ya.

By the way, this all relates to the post immediately following this one, which I wrote earlier, when I was going insane.

Several Atmospheres

2004-10-10T18:22:00.000-07:00

I wonder if it was inevitable? I've been fine for most of the time I've been here in CA, but this weekend is different. It's too cramped in here. The walls aren't closing in on me, but they may as well be. Feels like cracks are forming.

I went out this afternoon with the intention of merging with a 20-somethings group my cousin told me about because they play ultimate frisbee on Sunday afternoons. They never came, so since I brought the book I'm reading, I found a dry shady spot and read for a while, then just laid in the grass. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and it was all fitting for me to praise God in that situation.

Then I went home. I worked out for an hour, got back, and was a touch set off by something. Only it hasn't been decreasing, it's increasing. It's growing tighter and tighter inside. I'm not really saying what I want to.

I miss folks. I miss folks a LOT. Everyone is busily going about their lives and interacting with their friends. I live 1000 miles from any of my friends. I haven't made any good friends my age yet. I've hardly met anyone my age, let alone Christians my age. I miss my parents, and alex, and Joel, and Nate, and Arron and Darren and all of UCU. I miss Tia...I miss Tia a WHOLE LOT. She left some IMs. They made me chuckle, but it squeezed out a tear. Right now I want nothing more than to close my eyes and open them to find her sitting on my couch, in all her Tianess, not going anywhere.

These are foolish ideas. In the absence of friends and family I have my Lord! I was reading today about how He made everything and is everywhere, and knows the innermost struggles and desires of my heart. From this morning's Bible study of Ephesians 5, Paul suggests, "Walk in the Spirit..." Isn't that what I'm doing? And yet, for all God's Omnipresence, I sure ain't feeling any of it. WHERE ARE YOU, GOD? There's something vile in this room and it's terrifying me. Please eject it, Lord. Forget my unbelief, it's not my own. It's hard to tell if anything is happening. I tried to pray, and I couldn't. That's not right.

But you might argue, "If God's Spirit is not present with you it is because you won't let it be." Do you think I don't know that?! You ask, "Jesus stands knocking at the door, why won't you let him in?" If I knew, would he still be out there knocking?

Of course I can't find fault with God. He knows what's going on; he's infallible. Therefore the error must lie with me? Some sin troubles me; God is distant; I'm worried. My fault; my failure; my selfish desire? I hate the error. I want some recourse, but there is none. There's just God, in all his bigness, and then there's me, a waste of a disciple, troubled by sin and plagued by worry. Do you not see that I despise even myself, Lord? If you know me so intimately, don't you know how I wish things were different? Don't you hear when I call on you to change them because I'm too weak?

And they persist. Oh, sometimes they may go away for a time but it always comes back and nothing ever changes. Is my flesh really so strong that God himself cannot overcome it? Isn't that what the Cross is for? I fight defeatist inclinations: that since little has changed, little will change. What is it going to take for this flesh to DIE DIE DIE!! Even the smoky man in The Great Divorce did not have to take the hand of the angel to remove his blight, only to give permission. WELL HERE'S THE PERMISSION, WHERE'S THE ACTION?

This is madness, insanity. If beating my head against the wall would do some good I'd gladly do it. I might do it anyway because it would give me something else to think about. I'm gonna go call my parents. God, how I wish they were here.

Plastic Pterodacty Phylactery Pneumonia Pressure

2004-10-08T23:17:00.000-07:00

A new consonant every time!

I swear Kenton and Tia and I are the only ones who blog anymore. Maybe it's because we're all separated from UCU. We pour our hearts out because A) we like talking about ourselves, and 2) We think you're interested in our lives. But everyone else, no, we receive no word from them. So we hang on in eager expectancy, and are dissapointed Thanks for sharing YOUR lives with us you self-possesed Benedict Arnolds! (I'm joking, you realize.)

I found out that a league is equal to 3 miles, whichever mile you're using. If it's on land, it's a standard mile, if on water, a nautical mile. So that got me thinking, you know, Jules Verne was way off his rocker! There's no way you could go 20,000 leagues under the sea in any direction! If you were to go 20,000 leagues vertically, not only would you be on the other side of the earth after only 2500 leagues, you'd pop out of the other side and land yourself in an earth-trailing orbit some four times farther out than a geostationary satellite! By that time Capt. Nemo's boat would be so far above the earth's magnetosphere that they'd all die from solar radiation poisoning or escape earth's orbit entirely. If you were to go 20,000 leagues horizontally, you'd have to circle the earth 2.5 times. It's more feasible, but what's the point? You'd be half a world away from your port of departure. Not exactly the best place to run out of gas.

Are you High-Frequency?

2004-10-04T21:43:00.000-07:00

I want to be a dangerous Christian. You don’t normally hear that kind of word applied to Christ’s followers without negative connotations. Well what about infectious? Or voracious? It calls to mind an image of an invalid, coughing pathogenic clouds onto passers-by, or one with large, pointed teeth, poised to consume an unsuspecting urbanite in a dark alley.

But that’s not what I’m talking about. Think about it, what sort of mushy ideals do we unconsciously set for ourselves? “I wanna love Jesus,” and “Preach peace to the nations.” Well that’s fine, but are you gonna go out of your way to do it? Will you get your hands dirty? One “worship” song that always irritated me went like this:

I don’t wanna be a casual Christian.
I don’t wanna live a luke warm life.
Cuz I wanna light up the night,
With an everlasting light.
I don’t wanna live a luke warm life.

Do you recognize it? Maybe you’re humming it in your head. It’s about the most milquetoast sounding song ever written, short of Kum-Bay-Ya. So you don’t want to be casual or luke-warm about your life. Good, cause you know what God will do with you? He’ll vomit you out. That’s a good earthy illustration for a Mylanta sort of attitude (i.e. lots of chalky aftertaste). But what will you do about it? That song may make you feel at ease with its aspiring platitudes, but you certainly won’t get anywhere just feeling righteous. I’d say that’s a sure sign that you’re not!

Think of some phrases from youth group or bible study or whatever that we’re called to live up to: “Be on fire for God.” Well what happens when you touch something that’s on fire? IT HURTS! “Be salt and light.” What happens when you look at the sun? IT HURTS! What happens when you put salt (i.e. disinfectant) in a wound? IT HURTS! There’s nothing cushy or soft about being a Christian, for you or this injured world. But the surgeon has to cut into the flesh to heal it.

So here’s what I’m getting at: be dangerous, be infectious, be voracious about your faith. Consume Scriptures and pray like it’ll be your first meal in a week. Take risks for God, stick your neck out, and do something insane. You want your Life to spread to others like some kind of divine epidemic, not be quarantined behind bible studies and worship ceremonies. They have their place, but so do you, and it’s out there.

Where’s all this excited energy coming from? The church I’m going to just had a seminar from a fellow named Sam Talbert called “UnveilinGLORY” which I recommend highly if you want to break out of your shell and understand what the hell has happened to the church in America. I’ll give you a hint, it has to do with YOU. That’s right, YOU, and I’m leaving YOU capitalized for a reason. When you think of knowing Christ, what’s the reason that first comes to your mind? Is it so that God receives glory throughout all the earth? No, it’s probably so that your sorry butt can escape hell. I won’t lie, that’s what I said when he asked us. But God, in his mercy, loves to teach me things, and I love learning them. (That’s a selfish statement right there, but bear with me.) Los Gatos Christian Church has a heart for missions rather beyond most. This is as it should be since we are called to go and “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” How many of you can say you’ve done that? I can’t, and it makes me indignant at myself. So God stuck me there, and by gum I’m determined to glorify Him in whatever way I can. He even put me in a perfect position to do it: I’m single, I’m not in school, I have no in-groups here, and being new to all this, I have no ruts to be stuck in. What a splendid idea, God! Here’s the essence of “Cat and Dog Theology” that Mr. Talbert spoke to us about:

A dog says, “You feed me, you pet me, you love me, you must be God.” That’s Dog Theology.

A cat says, “You feed me, you pet me, you love me, I must be God.” That’s Cat Theology.

Cat theology is crippling the church more and more every day. I love cats, but it’s disheartening to realize how ingrained such a self-glorifying, and ultimately self-defeating, ideology is in the Body of Christ. I encourage you to give the matter some thought. At the core of cat theology is at least one of two things: fear and pride.

The proud person wants the world to be for him because he thinks he’s so great. It’s him against the world and as far as he’s concerned, he’s in the right. (KAF, sometimes I worry about you.) And all you want is more blessings because God is merciful and abundant and has all kinds of free stuff to give out to you. But it’s like a bucket filling with fresh water. If the water doesn’t go anywhere it gets nasty and full of mosquitoes. If you put a cap on it and try to keep collecting more, it ends up ripping the bucket apart (think dry ice bomb). But if you punch a few holes in it and hang it up somewhere, all kinds of vegetation grows where the water spills out.

The fearful person wants the safest easiest, comfiest ride through life possible. This is me. I never asked for adventure or danger, I’ve always aspired to live a quiet, normal life. Well I’m finding out that’s not so worthwhile, since I’m already seeing those aspirations try to swallow my faith, nor is it what the Lord expects of us. He may put us in comfy situations, since there will always be rich people, but that’s no excuse to just coast along. If fear motivates your life, it halts your life. Mom, you always wanted to be a writer, but you never became one because you convinced yourself you couldn’t cut it. Today, you still want to write, but you won’t even write for fun because you’re afraid of the results. Then write for yourself, journal, make up short stories in Word and save them under boring filenames, start a blog and don’t tell anyone about it; but for goodness’ sake stop being afraid! If you reach out, especially with the goal of glorifying God, you may find that all sorts of good stuff trails along with it.

Your microwave operates at about 2.45GHz, which means that it’s like a light bulb with light of wavelength 12cm instead of 300-700nm (1cm = 10000000nm), and it heats your food as long as there’s water in it. Visible light, on the other hand, has a frequency in the terahertz range and heats almost everything whether it’s got water or not. Gamma rays have frequencies in the range of thousands of terahertz* and can rip atoms apart. Basically, the more high-frequency a wave is, the more energy it has, and the more work it can do. When it comes to God, are you high-frequency?

*A terahertz is 1,000,000,000,000 Hz.
A thousand terahertz is 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 Hz.
God, in his Cleverness, made math.
And Glory be to him for making it!

Asherim

2004-09-29T22:43:00.001-07:00

You, what do you treasure? What do you hold dear and cling to and depend on? If you didn’t immediately think “Christ,” then we have something in common, and work to do. There is room in your life for two things: God, and God. Did you know that “you are not your own; you were bought at a price.”? Funny thing how easy it is to forget that. God’s been showing me that he won’t abide my idols for much longer. After all, “God…is a jealous God.” “If you love something, let it go,” goes the saying, and that’s true for everything but Him. So what do you treasure? Yield it up to the Lord, before he requires it of you. And if He requires it of you, yield it up to Him. It’s better to leave something behind for His sake than to die by holding on to it. Besides, you may end up in Job’s position if you hold out. We’re way too short-sighted to know what God has in mind for us.

So basically it was revealed to me that I’ve been making an idol of someone. It’s primarily been an idol of fear; not so much fear of the person, but fear of the future. Then I read that unless we renounce everything in this world, not only will we never be able to be truly with Jesus, but he will press us until we let go. It was about then that I decided I’d better learn to let go freely before my stubbornness caused that person misfortune. But it’s difficult to kill the flesh. We can only do so much. In the end it’s the Spirit who has to do the real cleansing work in us. I’ve been praying for that, but I know it will take time. So then God said, “What have you done for my Kingdom recently?” And I realized, not much. Church was especially convicting of that this week and it led me to make a few decisions. (For those of you who pray for me, pray that I’ll follow through. I know God brought me here to do something awesome, but I haven’t figured out what yet. Hopefully I never will, but that it will be done anyway.) So renounce it, renounce that worry, and that fear, and that apprehension. “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Let her go, let him go, let it go, and “seek you first the Kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you.”

Lord, help me put my money where my mouf is.

Holy matrimony, Batman! Everyone's getting married!

2004-09-23T22:57:00.000-07:00

Let's see, since I moved into UCU, I've met a number of people who have gotten married. They are, in quasi-choronological order:
Micah Kurtz and Charissa Chi
Randy Flicker
Josh Melhorn
Jason Harkness
Ethan Beaudoin and Stacy Strunks
Kevin Curtiss and Kim Roberts
Zac Gleason and Holly Olds
Leila...uh, what WAS Leila's last name, anyway?
Laura Eastman
Jon Moore and Jamaica Stout (Thanks Kento, didn't know that.)

Soon-to-be married folks include:
Adam Wearn (Non-UCU, best friend of many years)
Holly Eroh (Non-UCU, an internet friend of many years)
Sarah Betz (Almost UCU but not quite.)

I'm starting to feel left out. But more waiting seems to be the forecast.
Well with any luck God will give me something good to do to keep my mind offa that.
And with any luck He'll let me marry the girl I wanna marry. We'll see I guess.
Just one more test of faith, right?

Battlefield Schoolyard

2004-09-19T11:57:00.000-07:00

I had the most heart-wrenching dream last night. I dreamt I had gotten engaged to a girl I love very much. Yet some time after this I decided to call it off because I felt I wasn’t quite ready for marriage even though she was. I did not own a house, I lived very far away, and her parents liked me, but were wary that my character was incomplete.

Now there was another man who asked the girl to marry him. He was more well-established locally and with her family. She loved him as well, but not nearly as much as she loved me. Yet because she was ready to marry, and her parents wanted her to do so, she accepted his proposal instead of waiting for me.

For some reason I was ok with this at the time. I was happy that she was going to build a life for herself with this man. They were married at some point although I don’t recall the ceremony.

It was only after this that I realized what a horrible mistake I had made in letting her go, but now there was nothing I could do about it. I saw her soon afterwards and broke down because she was now this man’s wife, never again accessible to me. The realization brought me to the floor in throes of agony such as I have not experienced in years, if at all in waking life. More than anything else in the dream I recall the velocity of my weeping.

It is hazy, but I seem to remember that she also was extremely distraught at the idea that we could never be together now, as though it had likewise not occurred to her. There were vague suggestions of annulment, but if only they had not already been on their honeymoon! She truly was gone, and I was utterly devastated.

Somehow in my dream I began to think to myself, “Nothing can be done now, so turn her over to the Lord.” It’s quite amazing to me that such a thing occurred to me in a dream state, but as my memory of the episode fades, I can recall that impression only becoming stronger and stronger in my mind.

Does this mean that I’ve truly given that woman over to the Lord? Does it mean that I am close enough to Him to let even the most precious person in my life belong to another man? I hope so, though I still dread anything like what I’ve described should ever happen for real, and pray it never ever ever will. This girl exists, by the way, and her identity and place in my life today makes this dream a thousand times more close to home than I can possibly express. The fact that I must yet wait a (long) while for her too compounds my anxiety, but I will try to give that over to the Lord as well. Wish me luck.

Now how’s this for irony: I went to a small non-denominational church in Santa Clara this morning and the sermon was on Matt. 6:25-34, the “Do not worry” section of the Sermon on the Mount. The focus, of course, was on not worrying about material things, but I’ve always thought it extends beyond that as well. The pastor put forth a very interesting quote from an anonymous elderly woman. She said, “I’ve had a lot of trouble [in my life], most of which never happened.” How familiar that is! I guess I’m a worrier; I must get it from my mother, who worries about everything all the time. But God is still in control in spite of all my worrying. This suggestion was made: When worrying about something, ask yourself, “What is true?” By so interrogating yourself, you shatter the defeating fantasy and reground yourself in reality. What is true about the situation? Anything beyond that steps out of God’s realm and into satan’s, where lies and deception breed.

In the most extreme case, worry is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the thing you worry about most comes to pass because of your worries. Here’s an example: You love someone, and she loves you as well, but you worry she may fall in love with another. So you try as hard as you can to make sure she loves only you. You pin her down with questions about others, you restrict her access to friends, especially guy friends, and you make every effort to win her over again and again. Well aside from exhausting yourself and proving that you do not trust this woman, you will drive her away because you have put her in a cage and she will escape at first chance. This is a very common thing in our self-possessed, love-me-first society. You’re only looking out for your own interests, and that’s exactly what’s wrong. The rightful place for your own interests is in God’s command, who knows what you need better than you do.

Stay Earth Bound, Petite Balloon Maven!

2004-09-19T01:26:00.000-07:00

Fall came. In one day. First overcast day since I moved here almost 2 months ago. Cold too, announcing his arrival. That particular chill, which hints at silence and the end of noteworthy experiences, lengthening the shadows until only fond memories remain, was present in full force as well. (I’ve written about Autumn before.)

I have two major experiences to share.

The first occurred last night. I was invited to a dinner concert by a coworker of mine. He is of Armenian descent and the musicians were friends of his. He happened to have an extra ticket and I expressed interest in going. The price was $30, but that included an 8 course dinner. Not bad, and I ended up leaving with a hefty box of leftovers. The atmosphere was warm and congenial, and Andy introduced me to a number of his friends, all of whom welcomed me in as though I were one of the family. That kind of thing makes me yearn for a heritage. My nearest European roots were my dad’s grandparents, immigrants from Germany and Sweden, none of whom I ever met. Any blood relations in those countries are now too obscured to be family. So I’m basically whitebred American, and even then, none of my family has strong ties to any particular geography or culture.

It’s sad, really, how disconnected we are from our roots these days. There are two reasons America has no “White Pride” or “Caucasian Heritage month.” The first is the obvious political argument that whitey already oppresses everyone else enough (by celebrating all their cultures and giving them preferential treatment in academia, public policy, and the workplace.) The second is that we don’t have a culture to celebrate. The term “American culture” would be laughed out of any serious sociological discussion. There is localized heritage in some parts of the country, but as a whole, we have no discernable roots that we can call distinctly our own.

On the other hand, this was no strictly Armenian event, as ticket sales were open to the general public. In fact, such an event could only take place in America: An Armenian, an Assyrian (by lineage), and a Mexican, playing Persian instruments, in a Chinese restaurant, with Arabic belly dancing. The musicians were phenomenal, especially the qanun player. A qanun is an Egyptian harp, played on its side by plucking with a finger-mounted quill on each hand. It’s an extremely difficult instrument to play and the man, Ishmael, deftly walked his hands about the strings with such nonchalant speed and accuracy that one wondered if he was even trying. The most interesting facet of the music was that a lot of it was improvisational, but its complexity belied that fact, especially on a 22 note scale. (I highly recommend you immerse yourself in some quarter-tonal repertoire, it will change your concept of what harmony is.)

I was somewhat concerned when Andy said to me, “Bring some dollar bills for the belly dancers.” That called to mind infuriatingly persistent ideas of lurid females, clad in the most minimal of garments, undulating erotically while lust-crazed men stuffed their raiment with cash a la the strip club. But I’d never seen belly dancing before so I didn’t know what to expect. Fortunately my flesh was severely let down. I was actually kind of surprised at the heavily artistic aspect of it. The dancers exhibit the utmost grace, utilizing the flowing qualities of their dress and the enormous shawl that accompanies it, as well as lots of expressive hand motions and a step like leaves falling upon water. I described to Tia as “Purple and pink and shiny and silky and jingly and flashy and flowing and whooshy all the same time.” I know she would have gone mad to have that dress. It’s no surprise to me now why she is drawn to it. Except for the deliberately sensual aspect of it (and maybe even that too, perhaps), it’s all Tia.

The other event, from which the title is drawn, was this evening’s trip to the Great Mall in Milpitas. Clad internally in a gaudy assortment of Skittles colors, it’s about as large as the Super Mall in Auburn, WA, and so took me a very long time to examine. It includes a multi-screen megatheater, and a skate park, which I thought interesting. At least they’re giving those kids some place to play, and probably making a killing at it, too. But first, I was greeted with a frustration. I drove the perimeter of the mall to see where the best parking was. This was a foolish pursuit from the outset because it’s Saturday, and near back-to-school time, so the mall was an absolute zoo. Anyway, ‘round the front I happened upon two black ladies preparing to depart from a space not 500 feet from the door. I thought, “Sweet, primo real estate.” They sure took their sweet time pulling out, mostly because of a family who had pulled into the adjacent space and were taking their sweet time getting out of the car. Can’t blame them for that. So they finally began to pull out of the space, quite unsuccessfully I might add; those spaces are too tightly packed. But just as they were coming out of the space, a self-important looking man in a luxury sports car zooms straight into the spot I had been waiting a good 5 minutes to occupy. It’s little, insignificant events like that that make me lose my temper the most. So, like any good road-rager, I angrily pounded on my horn and called him various unsavory names. I probably should have gotten out and explained the situation, but I doubt he would have cared, based on the haughty attitude I perceived from him. So as I drove by I made sure he saw me and flipped him off with the sourest of countenances.

*sigh* I guess it’s good that I don’t have a fish on my bumper. This is one of those things I really need to seek the Lord about. It’s those little fits of rage that will do me in when some larger frustration obstructs my happy little life and I say exceedingly hurtful words to someone and completely throw my witness out the window. Of course, I may not have noticed this incident so acutely if Tia hadn’t become very upset when I told her about it. Her reasons aside, to see it affecting someone else so strongly is clear evidence that it’s a problem. I’ve known I have some kind of anger issues for a long time, and it crops up every once in a while, but I think I want to take it seriously this time. I can tell already that it’s going to be one of those irritating issues that I cannot resolve myself, but must let God’s Spirit work it out within me. I guess the best I can do is to keep praying for him to keep me savvy of my state of mind and immediately turn to him in such instances of impatience.

I had a tomato for dinner (Diatribal Pontificaat)

2004-09-07T19:11:00.000-07:00

I had originally intended to write a long dirge about the miserably corrupt state of not only our society, but also ourselves. Even the most saintly among us is, at heart, a miserable sinner. What sparked this outburst of ill disposition? Well, being what I just said, my "self" got the better of me and by and by made a wreck of something I thought I was getting past. Nope, that never happens...not in this life at least. These rotten shells, bodies of death, certainly do keep us humble before God's penetrating eye.

So what brought about my change of heart? Well I received a lengthy correspondence in the mail from my best friend which completely shattered my little self-inflicted world of introspective hatred. That girl has the remarkable ability to see the good in everybody, and it's essentially what her letter was about. Bear in mind she spontaneously decided to write it and refused to reveal the topic. To my knowledge I've done nothing to deserve praise.

I am, however, extremely thankful, indescribably thankful, thankful beyond any of the juciest English words for her presence in my life. I hope that never changes. I eagerly await the day when God declares us ready as individuals to live in proximity again, if it seems good to Him. Oh how I will rejoice in those days, but for now I still praise God even for the distance, knowing that He is accomplishing something excellent in both of us. Lord, please raise us up as standards of your Love and Power to heal others. May we grow to love only you more and more so that your Love spills out of us all over the place and to everyone we meet.

Isn't it funny how often it takes some external event to rattle us out of whatever stupor we've managed to dupe ourselves into? And it seems to go both ways in that we sometimes need to be shaken by a bad event to reveal our need for Christ, and sometimes we need to be shaken by a good event to reveal our blessings in Him. It's a good thing He's in charge! Disappointingly difficult though it is to admit, God has a much better handle on the situation than we ever could. Praise the Name of Jesus Christ!

Presumptiously: Finis.

Tourismo Virtual

2004-09-04T10:35:00.000-07:00

This will be short since I'm heading off to my cousin's house soon and it's a 2.5 hour drive if traffic is good. Anyway, I would like to invite you people out there as much as I can into the place I hang my hat. I say "as much as I can" because I'm currently limited to the 9ft radius of my webcam's cable. When I get some kind of mobile photography device I will update the post to include rooms you can't see here. So stay tuned. On to the demonstration:

I have a kitchen

A dining room
Yes, that is my fountain on the left and those are my Escher prints on the wall. The table and chairs were graciously donated to me by my dad's friend Larry.

I have a big deck with nice trees outside.
...although I've yet to actually go out and sit on it. I think I need a table first.

I have a fireplace.
The picture is incredibly bright because of the daylight streaming in from the door, and that's with the blinds shut!

Moreover, I've got vaulted ceilings.
Classy.

To further furnish my domicile,

I bought this nifty computer desk.

And this spiffy couch was delivered today.
Yup, that's real leather, and it's real comfy too. I may throw a cover over it when I don't have company to keep it looking fresh, and so I don't get all sticky/cold from taking naps on it. But it's leather and should last many years, well worth the money I paid for it, I think.

Well that's it for now. Go do something productive with your time now instead of wishing you were hanging out with me at my bachelor pad of doom.

The Dark Room

2004-09-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

A man sits in a darkened room. There are no windows, no doors that he knows of, only a single 1/2 watt reading bulb for him to see by. On each wall of the room are shelves of objects. Little statuettes and figurines and models of things. Each is made of glass and very reflective. Some have minerals mixed in or other types of glass and so appear colorful and wonderful in the hot spark of that reading bulb.

The man treasures these silicate wonders he has stacked up on these shelves. One by one he takes them down from their places and turns them over and over in his hands, examining every facet by that tiny light. However, as the man ogles these marvelous objects, he becomes increasingly excited and so starts to quiver and giggle as he fondles them. Eventually he gibbers so much that the glass idol slips from his fingers and crashes to the floor, breaking into jagged fragments.

Regaining his composure he reaches for another sculpture, but the same thing happens again. His excitement grows to such a fervor that the glass flies from his sweating hands and shatters like the one before. In desperation he grabs another, hoping to maintain the euphoria of his excitement, but it too falls to the ground and disintegrates.

With the breaking of each object the satisfaction he longs for moves further from his grasp and fills him with anger. No longer placated by the beauty of his collection, he begins to feel pleasure only in destroying them. One by one the objects fly off the shelves and crash against the floor, or the walls, or against the man's fists. He batters the heavier ones against others, he crushes the delicate ones with his fingers. His hands are bruised and bloody, but his happiness continues to wane despite his fevered efforts.

Finally, when all is said and done, the man lies upon a twinkling landscape of debris and gouging shards, exhausted, cut up, in pain, and bottomlessly miserable. In one final fit of rage he reaches up, and, burning his marred palm, snuffs the tiny bulb which provided the only illumination of his once majestic and now tragic collection, hoping that in the darkness he can forget everything he ever saw in that cruel light. After a lengthy moment of silence he weeps.

Suddenly a knock issues from the wall before him, startling the man greatly. Was there someone outside? Was there an outside? A moment's reflection brings bewilderment as to how he had entered the room to begin with. He had always just taken it for granted that he was there. The knock rings out again, causing the entire structure to throb. "Who is it?" the man shouts. "Will you open the door to me?" comes the reply from without. What a strange reply. "Tell me who you are," the man says. "Behold, I knock. Will you open the door to me?" gently answers the voice with such power that the man's heart jumps into his throat. Who could it be? It could be a friend, or it could be some malevolent force seeking to do him even greater harm. He winces as the sting of his wounds begins to set in.

"Come with me and I will heal your wounds," states the guest. How did he know the man was injured? Perhaps he had heard glass breaking and come to help. "Will you open the door to me?" and another knocking, so crushing and universal that the man fears he may be destroyed by it. With a trembling hand he reaches forward saying, "I don't know how!" Mysteriously, his hand rests upon the cold firmness of a brass doorknob and he winces in agony and terror as he turns it.

A seam of brilliant light frames a rectangle in the wall and punishing radiance floods in as the door opens, overwhelming his eyes. A stream of cool air rushes to fill the space and fragrant smells waft in upon it. His saturated senses at first rebel against this new stimulation and he cries out, but gradually latent memories return and ancient knowledge brings recognition to it. A moment later he opens his eyes to see the frame of another man standing in the doorway, reaching his hand out to him. This new man seems to be just like him in every way men are a like, and yet somehow more.

Looking closely, he sees scars on his hands and feet, and somehow knows other scars exist. The scars indicate to the man that he is there to help, and so he takes the outstretched hand and lifts himself to his feet, nearly collapsing in weakness. The other man supports him and leads him out into the brilliance from which he came.

Every step brings a sensation of recovery and new life. Soon the man no longer needs the other's support, but continues to rest on him, finding increased strength in his embrace. The other man leads him down a hallway of increasing size that bends around a corner. As they walk out of the passageway the man finds himself bathed in sunlight. This feels familiar, this feels right. He stands in a grassy area filled with trees. He recognizes the fruits hanging from some of them, he had glass figures of them back in the room. Only these were not made of glass, but some other substance. He picks one; it falls easily into his hand. His hand! The wounds are gone! The shards extracted! The flesh even shows no scars! He lets the fruit drop away and takes a bewildered step forward, squishing it beneath his foot. He jumps back in surprise; it is soft and malleable and emits a wondrous aroma. He plucks another and pokes it with his finger. Juice runs onto his knuckles and he tastes. Slendid! It's a peach! He had a glass peach with flecks of orange and goldenrod buried beneath the surface, but this is a real peach! Ecstatic, he takes a bite, then another, then quickly consumes the rest, sucking the juice from his fingertips.

Turning about he is approached by a woman whom he immediately recognizes. It is the same woman as that golden statue, the one that had first slipped from his hands. His knees weaken when he sees her true form: she is very beautiful and though the glass statue was beautiful also, it could not begin to compare with the reality. He joyfully embraces her and she returns his embrace as one who has not seen her dearest friend in many years. She says to him amid tears, "Welcome back. We're all waiting for you at home. Please come soon." Home! He only had the dim image of the glass house and made the connection with this new place: there would be a real home, made of wood and stone, with all his familiar people and things really inside. The woman looks toward the sky and seems to be thanking someone. Then begins to walk and motions for him to follow.

The other man is still standing with him. The man looks at him and said, "Who are you, sir? And how have you done this?" He replies, "I am the Resurrection and the Life. When you put your trust in me, I brought you from death to life, from darkness to light. Behold where you have been." He points at the ground to the left. The man looks in that direction and pales. What he sees lying upon the ground is a tiny wooden box, no more than an inch high, with a small horn attached to it. "How did you get down...but how did we come..." the man stammers. "Your faith has made you well. Now go and tell others what the Lord has done for you."

He embraces the man heartily and thanks him repeatedly, promising never to forget the deeds of this remarkable person. He takes a step after the woman, then turns to ask if he can return the favor, but the man is gone. In his place is a vagrant who has picked up the box with a horn and is looking deep inside it. He smells bad, but the man knows what lies within the box and approaches the pauper. "You do not want to know what is in there. Are you hungry?" The vagrant nods assent. "Would you like to come to my house and have dinner? I have a feeling there is a wonderful feast waiting for us, the likes of which neith of us have experienced in a long time."

------

I would have liked to add more about his wonder at the reality of real life, but the well ran dry. Comments, questions?

Quantifying the immeasurable

2004-08-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

This may wax mushy so skip past this if that's not your thing.

I spent a good long time on the phone with Tia this evening; two hours, to the second, to be precise. That should strike you as odd because neither of us talk much on the phone. Me, I'd rather chat in IM or in person, and Tia favors primarily the latter though the former will do.

As is typical with conversations between boys and girls, not so much of it is remembered. Though I do recall delving into such juicy issues as what God has been teaching us recently, Tia's lofty plans for the future, the startling beauty and simplicity of God's creation, and the dependence on faith of the effectiveness of God's work. A very rewarding conversation, including the gaps.

And as do boys and girls who have developed a very deep bond, we miss each other, a lot. Here's where it really gets interesting though. She expressed specific things about me that she missed, while I found myself unable to fully articulate my accompanying feelings. I, the linguaphile, meeting difficulty in vocalizing my impressions. Strange.

But I thought about it after I hung up and was puttering around, preparing lunch for tomorrow. What I miss about Tia are not necessarily any specific attributes. What I miss is the whole of Tia herself; I miss her physical presence in my life. The individual things are too numerous and/or subtle for me to elucidate. What I miss is the companionship and everything that came with it.

I've learned that men and women treat friendship differently, and I believe this distinction extends even into co-ed friendships. Most of this has come from discussion with my mother, who is always amazed that Alex and I never seem to know what's going on in our friends' lives, yet we remain steadfast in these friendships. Here is the difference as I see it: Men tend to bond on a level that runs deeper than language; the link extends not above, but below conscious appreciation. Men are friends simply because we are. Women, on the other hand, seem to define their friendships much more discreetly. They know what they like about each of their friends and why, and they can tell you if you ask them. (Please correct me if this is not the case) Perhaps it has to do with the more verbal nature of the female gender, or perhaps it hs more to do with a sixth sense men have about each other. I don't think it really matters, it's just the way God saw fit to design us.

And that's what makes it wonderful. Of course, in human interaction, there is no black and white, but everything is a mixture of poles. Therefore, the friendship between Tia and I (and probably all relationships like ours) is something of a hybrid. I can tell you many reasons why Tia is one of my best friends. So too, I'm sure she would tell you that she just likes being with me, no reason needed. Likewise we can talk for hours about everything or simply enjoy some activity together and never share a word. Both have happened many times.

I'm probably revealing way to much in a public setting, but it was an observation that refused to be stifled. Maybe it will prove constructive to someone. At the very least, this exposition changes absolutely nothing in my mind about the bond between Tia and I. Truly God has made this friendship, and do with it what he will now that we are separated by distance, I obtain joy to consider such threads He weaves into our lives. May it bring joy to you also as you consider your own friendships.

Et cetera: I've yet to write anything about my misadventures with the computer desk, hurdling my cousins into the water, the strange encounters at my front door, some ninja gaming, and why you really can't serve both God and money. Well, the Lord add his blessing to my musings and to you all. Over and out.

Try again, Kochese; make a turnip.

2004-08-21T00:37:00.000-07:00

Single dwellers alert: Got two or three servings of spaghetti sauce you don't know what to do with? Buy a can of chili beans in medium sauce and simmer them together. Makes a darn good chili. But then, mom's recipie is pretty hearty to begin with, it ain't no marinara.

Following Kento's lead, I decided to head on down to the weight room, having excess calories to burn...ya know, since I use so many sitting at my desk all day. Although I noticed that, since the stairs are by the bathroom door and they're outdoor and each floor in my building is a good 20 feet tall, that it makes a nice blood churner to hike down them and back up at breakneck pace. Anyway, I made a full round of the complex workout room including a one mile run, a full upper and lower body workout, and more crunches than I care to remember. I will be wondering what possessed me to do this in a day or two. I went swimming on Tuesday though, and that was good. As I said to Joel, moving around isn't so bad once you get used to it.

Something occurred to me. In the week I've been living here, I have seen only two other tenants who are white. Everyone else is East Indian or Asian. The complex has like 900 units. And another thing I noticed. Every single Indian family has at least one small child. In fact every Indian family I've seen anywhere around here is carting one or more brats around. Is it some sort of law that they must be in possession of a toddler at all times? And what happens when the kids grow up? Do they skip their teenage years entirely? I've seen no Indian youth here, only children and parents. It's very odd.

My cubiecle at work is among the coldest in the building, I found out. Some of my coworkers, who sit several spaces away, were bringing down blankets and space heaters to work last winter. I also dress WAY too formally for this job, which I'm pleased about. I probably couldn't get away with wearing jeans and a T-shirt, so I'm off to the thrift store tomrrow to get me some polos and old dockers. Who knows, they may even let me get away with my baggy skaterish jeans. I suppose the worst they could do is chide me and tell me not to wear that anymore. So hopefully I can teeter as close to the normal clothing threshold as possible. We'll see.

Before I completely destroy my circadian rhythm, I shall leave. I've been getting up at 6. I feel so OLD doing that, but getting off work at 4:30 has its benefits. For those of you who have been praying for me, thanks. Everything's going smoothly, I have want of nothing, save furniture, and I'm currently saving up for that. It'll be ready by christmas when the folks come down, and indeed long before that. If you're gonna be in the bay area, look me up. My phone number will be changing soon, but I'll be darned if I'm gonna post it here. You'll just have to ask me yourself. Well, tata.

Comfort Food

2004-08-16T21:34:00.000-07:00

So I though to myself, "I'll go broke if I keep eating out." And sure enough, I spent a lot of money this weekend. Geesh. It's very difficult starting out on your own, especially when you're the type of person who wants to get everything setup at the beginning. My apartment is still a shambles. Blech. That's what weekends are for I guess. But I digress.

I decided to cook myself something and settled on spaghetti. Of course, I don't have a recipie for the sauce so I gave mom a jingle. It was easy enough, and 10 bucks later I was on my way (plus other stuff I forgot I needed...blasted unexpected expenses!) I've already written about how smell is closely tied to memory. So it was comforting to have a familiar aroma fill my kitchen...assuages some of the aloneness. I'm not lonely, mind you, it takes quite a bit for me to get that way anymore, what with new friends at work and the internet (and phone if I need it).

It's even good to have the time to myself. Gives me a chance to do some much-needed introspection and talking with God. I was recently enlightened to a rather serious character flaw I had been exhibiting unknowingly so I've been praying like mad for God to change that about me. Unfortunately it's not something I can be proactive about. I guess I'll just have to be patient and vigilant...whoopdedoo. Praise God for trials, I suppose. Sooner or later I'll hafta change my attitude about that. Every corner you turn you realize you have to depend on God for yet another thing. Too bad it's so hard to let yourself be so weak.

Outside of the Box

2004-08-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

At long last, here I am, my own apartment, my items scattered about the floor in quasi-disarray. But at least I'm here, all my stuff got here, and I have cable internet.

Moving in was actually pretty uneventful. I pulled into the lot about 10 minutes after the movers did. Woops. But they were looking for #507 instead of #307 and having much difficulty since there is no fifth floor here. The guys, Pete and George, leathery men about my father's age, sweatily hoofed the boxes and furniture off their truck, down the 30 foot walk, and up three flights of stairs into my apartment. After we verified all items, they unpacked everything in a flurry of cardboard and recycled paper, and having stowed it all in their truck (I kept a few boxes for myself), had me sign the paperwork and drove away. End of item one.

Naturally the refrigerator was completely empty as were all the cupboards, so I moseyed over to Safeway, which is in the U-Villagesque shopping center across the street. I had BahaFresh tacos for lunch then went inside. Before I left, I consulted mom to compile a grocery list, which ended up being quite long. So I paced to and fro throughout Safeway, edging closer to the 3:00 deadline when the cable guy was to come. The cart reached saturation just in time and I cashed out. $265 later I was on my way. Maybe $50 of it was spent on food. :-D A full trunk of groceries is quite a task when you have to haul all those plastic bags up 4 flights of stairs. I grabbed a large gym bag that I nabbed from mom and dad when I moved and filled it to the brim with groceries. It weighed an unholy ton but it sure went fast to carry them that way as I still had free hands to grab more bags! End of item two.

Returning to my car I happened on a mystery. I bought a 32 oz. bottle of wiper fluid concentrate and espied it sitting in its place in a plastic tub built into the trunk (specifically for such items), about 2/3 empty. That's not right, I only used 2 oz. to make the solution and only once. So pulling it out of the tub I was slightly mortified when a number of gooey drips slid off the bottom of the bottle. Quickly I emptied my trunk of its contents in search of the large, sticky puddle/mess that was surely inside. I scanned the entire trunk space, all the way down to the spare tire cavity and could not find any trace of concentrate. All I found was a small layer in the tub, which was easily cleaned up with napkins. Very strange indeed. I want to know who thought they needed to use 11 oz. of concentrate in their windshield fluid tank. Have fun unclogging the nozzles. End of item three.

Leo, the cable guy, arrived during this little diversion and snuck up to my front door while I was down in the parking garage. He called me and said he was here so I ok'd him and ran up to meet him. He wasn't there. I called him from my front door and he was in the parking garage. I love how that works. He got the cable up and running in a jiffy and even volunteered to do the setup on my computer because he could see I was computer savvy and didn't want to install their messy software which leaves little Comcast stains all over windows. There was a minor glitch because I had been using the connection at my parents' house for some time but he cleared that up after some holding on Comcast's line...the inside tech-only line. Let's hope I never need to call them for service if they make their techs wait for service. After that was cleared, up I was ready to go. End of item four.

Only I wasn't, because I found out I had a whole bunch of things to go buy that weren't groceries. After more consulting with mom, I charted a course for the nearest Wal-Mart discount store since it was likely to be cheaper than Bed, Bath, and Beyond, though less quality. This was a grave mistake. Let me tell you why.

Wal-Mart is located in Milpitas, and affects an entire quadrant of this enormous shopping center. They close at 9 and I rolled in about 7, eager to get in and out so I could cook dinner. Well it just so happened that the management must have summoned every single family in Santa Clara county with at least two sub-teen children or three cohabitating generations. I theorized that perhaps Wal-Mart simply produces them en mass. I guess somebody has to supply overweight, unhappy Americans. You might expect to see white trash. Aye, there was, but it didn't stop there. I saw Mexican trash, asian trash, Indian trash, and even a little black trash in that Wal-Mart discount store. It was truly a multi-racial trash effort. And so, skillfully navigating the maze of aisles, floes of shopping carts and seething throngs of cranky grandmothers, upset fat women, screaming children, and exasperated fathers, I collected my treasures. By the time I made it back to the checkout stands, the line for each was backed up all the way across the main aisle, rendering it impenetrable, and into the clothes racks opposite. I subsequently finagled a line that seemed shorter than the rest. I say "seemed" because in reality they were all long. This one because the checker was slow and there was some enormous Indian family with two carts full up at the register. Yadda yadda I made it to the door where an even SLOWER woman was checking off receipts. I tried to circumvent her but was stopped by a courteous pre-recorded voice announcing that I was a thief. Eventually the lady got to me and I got everything to my car. Then, in a fit of desperation, I plunged myself once more into the fray and ate dinner at the MacDonald's built into the store. I felt unhealthier, but satiated. Flinging myself from that accursed place for the last time, I drove home to the smooth sounds of Chevelle. End of item five.

Upon domestic re-entry I once more played Sherpa and replaced my new belongings into the apartment. I washed some dishes and here I am. Tomorrow my main task is to get things into a semi-permanent place. I can tell you about what I've been doing at work for the last two weeks next time. For now, though, I've written a book so you simply must abide in torturous uncertainty. I highly recommend it. Flagellating, Bryan. End of item six.

P.S. I have a new email address: beamer "eighty-one" (as a number) at comcast dot net. (Gotta guart against the spam webcrawlers.)

Disconnected

2004-08-07T12:02:00.000-07:00

I am having serious internet withdrawls. I didn't realize how closely I kept up on my friends' lives until I no longer had regular access to the internet. The information age really has done away with time and space as now we can keep each other updated on our lives with the push of a button. But not me, at least not right now. I'm still stranded aside the information highway for a while. I can't move into my apartment until Friday (the 13th, my lucky day!) so I have one more week of isolation to endure.

A lot has happened in the past week. I wish I had time to expound on all of it but I simply don't. This weekend I'm spending with my cousin and her family in San Jose. Last weekend I stayed with my aunt and uncle in Auburn, CA (ENE of Sacramento). The first week of work has been pretty easy, mostly introductory things. They stuck me in the new-guy program right off so it won't be until thursday that I actually start work. Bonus: I get every other friday off, it's called the 9/80 schedule: 44 hrs the first week, 36 the 2nd. Nice. I've toured some places, learned buckets about LMSSC (the division of Lockheed Martin that I work for), and a bunch of stuff about space and satellite design. Good times.

I feel like I'm missing out on everyone. My best friend Tia has been having a rough go recently and I feel horrible that I haven't been able to talk with her, but it's a good training exercise for her (and myself) in seeking the Lord for true comfort. Still, it bothers me that I can't console and encourage her on a daily basis, she is one of the most important people in my life. Kento has also been having some difficulties and I'm just now finding out about it. Who else's life is taking twists and turns while my attention languishes in the daily routine?

I really am a child of the internet generation. I cannot fathom how people kept in touch before the days of instant messenging, email, and blogs. The phone? The number of conversations I've had on the phone that have exceeded two hours I can still count on my fingers. And what about before that? If you went away to war or college and returned, your friends would be completely different people. You could catch up, but that bond would have rusted. Maybe the mettle of a true friendship was better established in those days. But it raises a question: Have we become so impatient and nosy that we no longer have the ability to remember our friends? My thoughts have been strangely quiet regarding my loved ones, and even my prayers have begun to stagnate...I simply don't know what I should pray for about them. The distraction of a new job and a new place may be at work, but I've essentially abandoned entire sets of friends twice now: once when I moved to WA, and once when I graduated high school. I am determined not to let that happen again, as the friendships I made at UCU are some of the best I've ever had. But it's a handle I cannot grip; already it seems my memory is slipping away with an indefatigueable force. It scares me. It's not a question of clinging to the past; it's the undeniability of the present that drags me away from it against my will.

It feels so hopeless, Lord. Will these relationships that I've come to treasure disintegrate simply because distance has intervened? I pray not, but what can I do? If I place those relationships in your care, Lord, will they be preserved? It's impossible to tell from down here, and my field of view is so limited. Change is inevitable, but does it have to mean the obliteration of the past? Please preserve these connections that are so valueable to me, Lord. I'm scared and unwilling to leave them behind. I don't even know what I'm asking...I don't know what to ask. Maybe just patience and trust...I've never been a superstar at either.

And so it begins

2004-07-30T16:35:00.000-07:00

I'm on a library 15 minute terminal so I have to be quick.

Touched down at SJC at 10:20pm yesterday. got to watch an incredibly beautiful sunset from the air. I have never seen clouds like those: peach colored floating jungles of cotton.

My hotel is too swank for me, but the buffet breakfast is high quality. Downtown Santa Clara is Korean town--reminds me of S. Tacoma Wy. The library is filled with so many Asian and Indian people that I almost thought I'd stepped into UW again. In fact, I've seen more non-white people than anything else so far. There are four Japanese restaurants, two korean places, an indian place, and a Carl's Jr. within eyesight of the hotel. I think I may like it here.

Speaking of Carl's Jr. I had forgotten how good the food is there. They (and In-N-Out) do burgers the right way: char broiled with lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle. No more blasted bread-meat-bread McDonald's burgers for me!

I think I may have developed a cold somehow, so I spent most of today sleeping. I went to Safeway and got 4 gallons of drinking water so at least I'll be hydrated. The hotel room has a 'mini-bar' instead of a refrigerator. Most frustrating. It's stocked with drinks, but they're so overpriced that you may as well swallow quarters to have your thirst quenched. A buck-fifty for a bloody coke? Give me a break! I threw away the order form, put all the drinks on the counter and made room for my water jugs. There are a million ways to spend your money at this place. Some of the others include: Internet on the TV for $10, N64 games for $6.50/hr, internet stations in the business ctr. for $1 per MINUTE, room service breakfast for $8.50...geesh.

Well time is short and they won't let me get a library card until I'm actually in my new place, so you may hear from me again soon.

My life in a box

2004-07-27T12:14:00.000-07:00

The movers left here about half an hour ago. My car was shipped yesterday. It's all been very quick, but now the reality is setting in. I am no longer a resident of my parents' home, only a guest. My state of excitement is somewhere between going to Disneyland and being chased by a bear. I took some pictures of everything all packed up and when those get developed, I'll get them up on here somehow. It was strange to see it all go. It's strange to see my room all empty. It's strange to think I'll be driving to my first week of work from a hotel room. I'll feel like a pauper bringing my beat up old furniture into a nice new, clean apartment. Well, I've got 4 months until I have to start paying on my loans, I can use the extra money on some decent furniture, but at least I have something to start me off.

For the next several days I will languish in my home and the hotel room, anticipating my first day of work. It begins at 7:30, by the way. Oh well, can't have it all I guess. Hopefully that's not the standard start time, it's early even by blue-collar standards. With any luck I can make it a 9 to 5 thing, although I am on salary so that may throw a kink in things if they want me to work more hours. Dad says that the expectation is usually 50 hours a week for salaried workers. That's not very nice. The closer I can keep it to 40, the better. I don't want work consuming my life like it does for so many other professsionals.

Now that everything is out of my hands I have some down time to relax, see some friends, and in Sunnyvale, familiarize myself with the roads I'll be driving on daily. Well, for all my freaking out, God is still in control of the situation and I've just got to remember to praise him whatever the circumstances. So praise him! I need to eat lunch.

Stirring up the dust

2004-07-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

As I said, I flew to San Jose last thursday in search of an apartment. I flew into SJC on wednesday evening and deplaned about 8PM. SJC is a small airport so you disembark on a rolling staircase and walk across some pavement into the terminal. I was greeted by a most unexpected sensation. The whole atmosphere reeked of wet dog. I looked around for the army of drenched canines but found none. The stench seemed to pervade the entire area because it smelled just the same at my motel. Must have been some kind of tree but I'm not sure, I'm still waiting for a horde of sopping mutts to overtake the city.

Bright and early I met up with Leo Hererra, the rental agent, and we set off in his dark-blue-but-almost-black Acura to the first location on his list of about 10. It was sort of a dive. It wasn't trashy or anything, but it just wasn't that nice. The next place was REALLY nice. Almost as old as the other complex, it was purchased 4 years ago by a company called Prometheus who gutted the entire place and essentially rebuilt it from original frame out. The rooms were nice, lots of fans, A/C, Cat5 wiring to a shelf in the closet meant for routers, cable modems, etc; pretty good location and whatnot, but it was a little to expensive. So we moved on. The next place was more decent than the first, but still not much to speak of. The next place was built in 1980 and looked like it. Sheathed in rust-colored diagonal cedar paneling, the interior decor was a jaundiced combination of brown, yellow, and orange. Blech.

So we went to lunch before checking out the rest of the properties. We decided to only visit two more since I had already been to one complex on the list and Leo told me two others were comparable to it. The last two, however, were worth visiting, in his opinion so I agreed. We had an interesting discussion over deli sandwiches about purpose in this life and the lessons you take away from it. Leo had been raised Catholic but is not now very religious because of it. The Catholic church seems to do that to a lot of people. Fortunately, the Spirit gave me some good things to say and I think it allowed me to show him that being a Christian is a lot more than going to church, and a lot less choking than people thing. Praise God. Some time before lunch he got a call from his wife: his mother-in-law was in the hospital having had a heart attack. I asked her name and said a quick silent prayer for her right there on the spot. Leo said thanks, his wife later said thanks after he talked to her. (It wasn't a heart attack after all, some kind of heart flutter.) Praise God.

We set off for the next property, a complex in Santa Clara called Mansion Grove. Built on the 30 acre estate of James Lick, a 19th century entrepreneur. In fact, his mansion, a historic site, is still in the midst of the complex. The same Prometheus company owns this complex and maintains it fantastically. It looks like a state park and there is a large grassy area surrounding the mansion along with picnic tables, a playground, and some basketball and tennis courts. They have 3 big pools and a fantastic workout and aerobics room (with a mirrored wall for me to practice poi/glowsticking in front of, yay). They also plan lots of activities like ski trips, pool parties, tennis lessons, etc. Needless to say I had pretty much seen enough by that time. The leasing agent was this leathery woman in her 50s or so with wiry blond hair and a candy cane disposition named Mary Jo Chesnut. Perfect.

The apartment they had available won't be ready until Aug. 9th, but after the discounts it's only $1070 a month, right in my range. It's on the third floor, so it has a vaulted ceiling AND a fireplace. It's got A/C, and it's pretty close to the main office. Due to the layout of the buildings, I have no neighbors to any side of me, only one below. Even Leo was somewhat surprised that it was available. Get this, it opened up 15 minutes before we got there. The guy was a client of Leo's and had to switch due to some mixup with his moving company. I don't think it was a coincidence. So we said hang on to it for a while because I wanted to see the other property just for grins.

The last place was alright. Looked very interesting, coated in vaguely pink stucco. Lots of small gardens, benches, and skyways. It had a very Mediterranean feel overall, but it was almost a little claustrophobic to me. The layout of the apartments was cool: an open kitchen with an upper counter that faced the living room and a large patio. Other than that, not too special, and it was 300 bucks more per month. Nevermind. I took the other place.

It looks like a splendid location. It's only a 6 mile jog down US101 to work, there's a shopping center comparable to U-Village across the street, and I live all of a mile from Paramount's Great America theme park. The only hangup is that it's almost directly in the flight path of SJC, but then, so are most of San Jose and Santa Clara. If you want my new mailing address, please email me. I should have phone hooked up soon, as well as cable internet.

For now, I'm still at my parents' house until I fly out Thursday evening. My current cell phone number will be active for a month or two yet so feel free to call me on that. I'm gonna be kinda lonely for a little while I think.

To Be Expanded

2004-07-23T23:29:00.000-07:00

Here's the short end of the straw:

I went house hunting in San Jose on Thurs. It was an interesting trip. I got an apartment here for a pretty good price.

Moving is coming up real soon. Starting Monday, in fact. Can't believe it's already here.

I'll expound on these events soon. Cheers.

A funny thing happened on the way to hell...

2004-07-20T00:04:00.000-07:00

Lisa was right, stillness and solitude do not lead one naturally to the throne. It's fine to seek peace and quiet, but it indeed must be deliberate, and likely away from the familiar surroundings. Unlike Lisa, I wasn't so fortunate to merely enjoy this weekend's isolation.

It is definitely time for me to leave this house. This weekend saw me spiral to a depth of iniquity unmatched since the days before the bible studies of last spring. (UCU guys will recall the subject matter.) The ghosts of old temptation haunt this place and it was not long before my defenses crumbled. Oh yes, I fought mightily, but I can't help feeling I was destined to fall. Even an emergency late-night trip to Pete Rutter's place could not ultimately fortify me.

Digression:
I watched The Dead Poet's Society at Pete's. It's a very good movie and I recommend it highly. Joel would appreciate the lethargy of story movement and heavy character development. Additionally, it's rated PG (albeit a 1980's PG). Anyway, I left his place at approximately 3AM. Not the wisest idea, perhaps. The road to the freeway is a wide avenue that winds towards Dash Point. Towards the freeway itself there are some very large intersections. The last of these is about the size of a baseball diamond. As I merged into the far right lane in preparation to enter I-5 just prior to this final intersection, I noticed a sign indicating that the right lane was turn only. I glanced ahead and deemed that the lane continued past the intersection. In the time it took to consider these things, I became utterly oblivious to the red light which had been outstanding for some time. I drove straight through it and only dawned on me halfway through the intersection what I was doing. It was immediately then that I realized I was far too tired to be driving. After that I was all but panicked as I merged onto I-5, waiting for flashing lights to appear behind me and ghastly insurance rates ahead of me. I drove all the way home (30 miles) in that frame of mind, apologizing profusely to the Lord for my ignorance and begging Him to prevent me from being such a hazard to other drivers again. Ultimately I made it home safely and without being pursued by the police. I just hope they didn't take my picture and mail me an expensive ticket for reckless driving. Well, at least now I know when NOT to drive somewhere.

End Digression, Continue:
Where had God been? Where had my ability to choose Him gone? Somehow my cognition took a partially disparate path from my actions. I could think about what I was doing: I knew, and I shouted to the Lord about it. Still, I had not the power to stop myself. My will was bound and gagged and made to watch the humiliating spectacle. Like a prisoner interrogated, foul things entered my mind and entertained my flesh. It was a slow and painful burning, and when the fire had consumed enough of me, it engulfed even my reason and extinguished itself in a flourish of unholy delight.

By the time my madness ended this morning I felt utterly defeated and fully ashamed. What a let-down I am: to myself, to another, and to God Himself! The Son of God shed his priceless blood so that I could throw my gratitude away and kick the nails deeper. Rendered an empty vessel, drained of its vitality by the chaos of a sin problem that may pursue me the rest of my life, a very curious thing happened.

By no effort of my own a warmth of empathy washed over me. It filled me with energy that I knew had bled away. It filled me with Light. One of my favorite Christian CDs is the album Speakeasy by Stavesacre and I just happened to play it thence at full volume, still having the house to myself. As I found myself singing aloud and lurching heavily to Keep Waiting, some of the words dawned on me:

in just a little while
They'll wish that they were silent

Keep waiting, I'll be right on time

I can't pretend to know the full significance of these things. I can't comprehend how filling my mind with filth served any purpose other than to make my mental idle choke on its own fumes. But maybe, just maybe, I was brought low to be reminded. Maybe I had forgotten my position in the Heirarchy, or maybe I had become absorbed in the events of the last month and simply forgotten the Heirarchy altogether. What I do know is this: That God deemed it good to shower me with Grace sufficient to bury the lake of sin I had been drowning in over the last few days. All at once I was flooded with truths: "I will never leave you nor forsake you." "Where sin abounded, Grace abounded more." "Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me." "forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

It is impossible to elucidate the gravity of this realization. It was as though I had been awakened from a heat-induced trance by a bucket of cold water. God himself reached down, down into the pit I had excavated, and saw fit to scoop me up, place me once again upon the Rock, and replace the failing flame within me! How unbelievably merciful he is! That final verse rang about in my head not as Paul's example, but a clear command from Jesus himself: "Forget those things which are behind and press on towards me." My Lord Jesus Christ poured his blood upon my sins and the Father sees them no more. Therefore, I am to see them no more: I must only see Christ.

Unexpectedly, this is a directive I have not considered often in the past, I soon saw. I had thought that by wallowing in my guilt before the Lord it would make my petitions for forgiveness somehow more potent. But I need not really petition him at all: I have already claimed Jesus as my Savior, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. All sin I have ever committed or will commit is erased from his Father's book.

My prayer is different now: I don't need to ask for what he has already given me. No, now I will ask him for more of his Spirit, for the ability to keep my sights securely trained on Jesus Christ alone. The way is narrow, and few pass through it. Difficulty is inherent in the choice; our footing is not as sure as his. But what does it matter? My sins, my failures, my consistent inadequacy only magnify his Name even more! If by my lowliness I can make others aware of his greatness, then I am satisfied. I'd rather be the Poopsmith in his Kingdom than the King of the Grey Town.

Lord, please blur away all things that are not of you. Make me deaf to the voice of this world and amnesiac to the memory of my flesh. May all my senses be trained on you alone. Grant me your Spirit to return to others what I take in of you.

Chump Change

2004-07-14T01:22:00.000-07:00

Decided some time last week or so that I don't have enough money in my account to cover the costs of signing a rental lease. First month, last month, security deposit, that's worth as much as my teeth. I'll get relocation money from Lockheed, but not in time. So I opted to become a true American: I got a credit card. Turns out the cards offered by my bank are pretty good. Plus, since it is my bank, I get automatic overdraft protection and I can pay balances at any branch and they will go through the same day (except weekends). Unfortunately, I don't have income just yet so that makes it difficult (read "impossible") to get a card. Fortunately, my parents are ever giving of themselves. Mom agreed to put her credit on the line and co-sign on it so I can get the card. She was thinking, "Oh, a limit of a few grand would be good enough." Well due to her excellent credit, my nascient card has a paltry $15,000 limit on it. Thank God that means nothing to me as I don't believe in spending money I don't actually have unless it's unavoidable. God still takes care of all that for me though, so I can have peace.

Got some free furniture and dishes from dad's friend's wife's mother's estate. Nothing fancy, but it'll do until I have money for better. Can't pass up on free stuff. Then stayed another few hours talking to the family. It may be the last time I see them for years. Good stuff. God has some amazing work going on in all of them. Praise his Name.

Had a nice looooooong chat with a dear friend about many things the other night. Exacerbated by the fact that I'm leaving, most likely. It's too bad that we haven't kept up this level of contact for the last four years or so. But it's still good to have such discussions. The man is closer to God than he realizes. It'll just take the right wording to make him realize the significance of what Christ is offering him. I'm confident it'll reach him soon. He understands easily things about God that some lifetime christians never get past. I'm very grateful for him and for all our chats, and the fact that no matter how long it's been, I feel as close to him as I ever did. That's why he'll be one of my best friends for the rest of my life. The cord of true frendship is not frayed by time or distance, it binds people together in spite of the circumstances. Good design, Lord. Good design.

Oh What's the Use...

2004-07-11T00:24:00.000-07:00

Let's try this again. (My browser crashed and lost the whole entry.)

Just for grins I decided to try to figure out how much Uncle Sam and Uncle Arnold will be taking out of my paycheck. What I found was a nearly impenetrable web of forms and instructions. In order to get enough information for an accurate estimate, I had seven browser windows going: 3 tax rate tables, 2 for the tax forms (US1040 & CA540), and 2 for the tax form instructions.

I spent a good hour flip-flopping among those windows. At last, defeated and demoralized, I gave up and just guessed that taxes will consume about a third of my income. I reached the conclusion that it is impossible to do your taxes "for fun". Maybe you have to be a tax accountant to get your jollies off that kind of thing. I did learn one thing though, in order to minimize the masochism of the tax process, it will be absolutely essential to keep my receipts organized by EXPENSE. Heretofore I've maintained them in chronological order for my own records. But since deductions are made based on your expenses, aside from knowing the year, order is not important.

Anyway, having estimated my net income, I divided it up into monthly net salary. After figuring in tithe, rent, car, insurance, school loans, utilities, phone, internet, and food, I should have about minus $200 of spending cash each month! Well, so much for paying $1000 on student loans like I'd hoped. And if I eat nothing but top ramen and oranges it'll cut down on food. And I bought this car, but I don't have to drive it, so that will save on gas. And I guess I don't NEED a cell phone. And I'll have internet access at work. Maybe then I can afford a pack of gum or something, if it's not taxed too heavily.

Cynicism aside, I'm probably making a lot of needless worries for myself by doing this. If I trust that God will meet all my earthly needs, I can save myself a lot of unnecessary headaches and anguished fits of frustration. Besides, the Lord dares us to trust him with our money, and Jesus spoke more about it than any other worldly thing. It will be a step of faith, though, to take Him up on His dare. But then...what do I really have to lose? You can't hold on to this world very tightly, I'm learning. In fact, you can't hold onto it at all, because in a flash any or all of it could be gone. I can only hope that God will give me the fortitude to turn it over to Him when He asks...

This blog brought to you by AlltheWeb Image Search and Lisa Massingill's writing style.

When it just hits you

2004-07-04T01:32:00.000-07:00

I've been sorting through my email, weeding out old messages that are no longer pertinent. Most of them aren't any longer as they had to do with events at school, assignments, or some long past deadline. Then it occurred to me, I really am done with college. Not a hazy mental recognition, but a gut feeling. My limbs are actually tingling. In less than a month I will leave everyone and everything I've ever known and begin again in a new place, only this time without my parents to supervise. Reality is a bulwark and when it comes it does no good clamboring to go back over it, you'll only leave bloody finger marks. Fortunately the Lord is giving me the strength to resist the urge to bruise my knuckles against things that I must do. Like an aqueduct He's guiding me to some destination with steadfast patience and unflagging certainty. There was supposed to be more but now there won't be. Stop by again sometime.

If you love something, set it free...

2004-07-01T00:11:00.000-07:00

So the old saying goes. Well I'm back from MN now. It's been one of the most surreal experiences in my life. It's one thing to SAY you'll trust God with some extremely important matter, it's another entirely to actually say the final prayer, turn your face forward, and do it. Lord, grant me strength to choose you.

Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence

He pretty much said, "You will have change...now." I'm not done reeling because it's hardly begun. There's no doubt in my mind that great things will come of it, but apprehension always lingers like vain company. The few momentos I have will be extremely precious I think. I don't want to wash those just yet: smell is very closely tied to memory. That sounds creepy, but I know you can think of a smell that brings you the comfort of nostalgia. It's certainly the biggest exercise in Faith I've been handed. I have many anxieties about people who are exceedingly important to me. I can't watch over them all the time, nor govern or guide their actions to meet my agenda. That's not true in any circumstance, but a physical separation underscores the reality of it. Lord, make me humble enough to trust you.

Everyone's here.
Everyone's here.
Everybody's watching you now.
Everybody waits for you now.

On the plane back I stood before two paths. One was well trod and wide, the waypost marred by the claw marks of those who refused to abandon it. Its direction was clear. In fact it was so clear that the final destination could be discerned with a little careful examination: futility. Utter indirection, mediocrity, and complacency, but it was at least certain. There were no unexpected twists; one had only to hold on to what was already there with insecure and clenching fists. The other path vanished into a dark thicket after only a few paces. Some unconfident footprints tested its soil, as it were, then returned to the other road. What did that road promise? It could be twice as horrible as the wide road, but it could be a thousand times more wonderful. It was impossible to see beyond the foilage without passing through it. Even the amount of it could not be discovered. Lord, give me wisdom to know your Will.

What happens next?
What happens next?

It doesn't make sense, but the map clearly points to this path. The wide road is very tempting. We always want to know what's going to happen to us in the future; there is big money in it. It's paved with nice smooth stones and soft sand; it almost beckons. There is the appearance of security there, of something tangible. But what kind of end is the middle ground? You may have walked a mile, but while you avoided the shadow of the valley, you missed the grandeur of the mountains. Then again, there's always a chance that you'll slip down some slope you didn't see. If your legs haven't been conditioned to climb, you're stuck. That's no result to be proud of. Nobody celebrates "normal," extraordinary is not achieved by remaining simply "ordinary." That wide path has no future, no wild victory, only an emasculate status quo. That's not the path I want. Lord, embolden me to single-mindedly pursue you.

I dare you to move...

Altered states of consciousness

2004-06-22T16:34:00.000-07:00

Been a few, but not that many, since the last one. I'm in MN now visiting Tia and her family. So far the decompression period has been jovial. Both Tia and I relish these languid, irresponsible days. It's been interesting. The forthcoming doom that awaits us has resulted in somewhat strange behaviors on her part. She plays the part of a drapery quite well. I don't mind; I'm not adverse to such affections, except in that they encourage lasciviousness in my mental spaces, which is somewhat difficult to reign in even by prayer. The coming schism will be the ultimate strain test of the masonry we've constructed over the last 9 months. Either God will cause it to withstand the space-time intrusion, or He will allow it to atrophy into non-existence. Either way His will is good, but it's not always easy to really believe that.

Her family enjoys having me around though. The lattermost calls me her "teddybear" and latches on similarly to the foremost. The remainder enjoy having me around for one reason or another -- their "walking stupid human trick" I seem to have become. I've been doing my best to help Pat & Lydia with various things in an attempt to soften the blow of my (in my opinion) lengthy imposition upon their household. I think they're enjoying the assistance...a live-in babysitter/handyman...who wouldn't, I suppose. :-)

I am miserably out of shape. I made a feeble attempt at exercise today and realized that I've been sedentary for far too long. One of my many resolutions for moving to CA will be to settle into a regular exercise regimen. It is wise to make good of the body the Lord gave me while it's still young enough to make good.

These entries tend towards the verbose, so I shall abridge it thusly: Stay tuned for more exciting news.

Moving out, moving on.

2004-06-12T02:43:00.000-07:00

Tonight was the EE department's graduation ceremony. I'm not attending the main ceremony because it's too large and impersonal, and my parents don't like huge crowds. So that means I really have graduated now, huh? It didn't feel like much. For some reason these big changes never do. I turned in my last paper this afternoon, said my goodbyes to professors, and made sure I didn't leave anything in the lab. I got a call this evening from Jerry, one of the guys I had a bunch of classes with this year. He's graduating next year due to co-op he just accepted. It was very interesting to hear his message. It was the same things I've been saying to everyone, but it felt so much different to hear it from somebody else.

Most of my things are in boxes or packing limbo. The room's surfaces are being laid bare and they seem slighted to have their furnishings removed. I have a downtempo shoutcast station playing on winamp. It lends an eerie surreality to the process. Of course I'm very tired too, but tomorrow will be another longish day. It will probably take two trips because I have Tia's stuff too. It doesn't seem like I'm leaving UCU for the last time, but then, it didn't seem unnatural to be going to Japan last year. Perhaps this is what it feels like to know you're in line with His will.

It's always more fun to share your feelings late at night. The eve's miasmas and our bodies' circdian rhythms impress a separation from the body on the consciousness. It feels akin to stepping back from yourself and instead observing your actions third person. I wonder how weak one's faculties must be to need drugs for this experience. But that's beside the point.

I formally accepted Lockheed's offer by faxing my acceptance letter to them earlier today. Now my life careens towards a new era: A new place, a new task, a new opportunity to retune my behaviors, eliminate habits I've become dyspeptic of. Nevertheless, it won't be stepping into wholly unfamiliar territory. I have family relatively nearby, and I found out two friends from the department will be close too: one whose folks live in San José now and the other is attending Stanford, not 15 miles to the northwest. Plus, L-M has a great policy for ushering in new hires to the area.

My mind is going to fall apart soon. It's been an interesting ride though, college. My sympathies resonate with mom's; it's hard to believe it's already been four years. My only regret is that I didn't get more involved with the people around me. Guess that's one thing I'll have to change in Sunnyvale. Farewell till my cognition is more coherent.

Life in the upside-down climate

2004-05-31T21:49:00.000-07:00

Each season seems to bring with it a certain ethos that serves to define the season in our emotions. For example, winter instills a feeling of introspection and isolation as the cold weather drives us indoors to warm ourselves by the fire on a snowy eve. Summer, on the other hand, encourages us to sit back and appreciate our surroundings or else play in them. The heat anethsetizes our thoughts and allows us to simply enjoy the moment. Spring makes us feel open and adventurous; the world about us teems with life and discovery and young love.

Unfortunately, none of this is present in western Washington today. It is Memorial Day, the tail end of May, but the weather is far from the appropriate combination of spring's charm and life and summer's promise of languid dog days in the sun. It is cool, darkly overcast, and melancholy. The clouds absorb the sun's warmth but do not threaten any storm. On the horizon the clouds break to reveal a slice of the maritime sunset, as if to taunt the land beneath cloud cover.

Overall it has the somatic impression of autumn. The vivacity of nature feels diminished and the air, though soft, is still and disinterested. The indifferent and diffuse light, gradually failing with the evening, carries emotions of regret, apprehension, and the inevitability of diminution.

I cannot comprehend the significance of the relationship between climatic change and our moods. Perhaps it's an explicitly personal thing; I happen to dislike autumn the most. But whether or not my emotional interpretations of each season differ from yours, I'm sure you can agree that the weather deeply affects us, as do all things in God's creation.

It makes me long for something, however, and I'm not sure what. It's as though something desperately needed remains just beyond reach. Or perhaps it's a longing for the past, a grasping at some former pleasure or happiness. Solomon might have resonated with me as I get a deep sensation that this world is vanity and chasing the wind. Furthermore, the same regretful tone with which he composed Ecclesiastes permeates that sentiment. One other interesting thing to note is that this is the exact feeling I always got in the fortnight surrounding the start of each school year. The newness of the school year seemed anachronistic and though the weather drove us indoors, our presence there felt initially amiss. Stories of each one's summer left the air of an experience unfinished or interrupted by compulsory education.

If left to ourselves, though, it's my guess that we would have desired to continue those freewheeling summer experiences to excess until they lost all the flavor of pleasure that made them so enjoyable. In a way, the inevitability of autumn was necessary to cement those events as truly pleasurable. It's that way with all earthly pleasures, though. In order for them to be pleasure, they must come to an end. It is truly stated that "We see dimly, as in a mirror." So much wasted energy is spent on this ball in the pursuit of unending pleasures. If we were given the full measure of orgasmic extacy our narrow minds chase here as often as we think we desire it, it would become so distasteful to us that we would be utterly defeated by it. If there is pleasure in hell, I'm sure this is it. It will take a global shift of paradigm to make us realize that the only true pleasures do not exist in this material realm, but in the spiritual realm: serving and worshipping the Lord. In that realm pleasures do not diminish with time, nor are they required to end. We are fortunate to have Jesus Christ send his Spirit among us so that we may sample these pleasures in our mortality if only we have the courage to try them.

I set out to write a diatribe expressing this unsavory mood, and ended up describing the true nature of our longings. I suppose it only demonstrates that He understands even our grayest emotions and His power can permeate them in spite of ourselves. Lucky us that we cannot stop Him when He feels like making a statement. All we can do is sit back and marvel, then praise Him.

Once affected, now affecting...

2004-05-31T00:47:00.000-07:00

Some things God builds into our personalities, for better or for worse. Leave aside the better things for the moment. What purpose do "character flaws" serve? First consider that not all of what we call flaws are truly that. Have you some trait that irritates you at times but has not caused anyone damage? It could be possible that though it is a burden you sometimes bear, that quality might be used by the Spirit to minister to another. Don't despair of such gifts. Rather, seek to use them for doing God's work in the lives of others. I can't tell you how to do it, but there are many who can, not less the Lord himself through prayer.

The second type of flaws are those that cause ill results. God gives us our genes quite without our permission. And sometimes, riding piggyback on our lineage come certain traits which, left to themselves, can cause much harm. For example, severe anger, greediness, a sharp tongue, alcoholism, etc. God will use these things also, but for a different purpose. "All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial." That's slightly out of context, but not misused. So while it's not always your choice to have those qualities, one should take stock of them and consider whether or not they are beneficial. If not, then it's likely that God desires to draw you closer to Himself by challenging you with such quirks. No leader that the Lord chose EVER had it all down pat. Moses was easily angered, Isaiah was unconfident, Jeremiah was easily depressed, as was Paul, David and Solomon had lust problems. Point is, God will use those "thorns in your flesh" to prove your dependence on him. This is not a bad thing; it's a handy reminder of how powerless we are to manage even our own affairs.

Through prayer and healing, we draw closer to God because of our flaws. Then an extension happens, and God recycles them, puts them to work a second time. Once those traits are under God's control, now He turns them around and makes us again ministers to others. The best part is, all the training has already been done, and you didn't even notice. Turns out you can use your own experience with that flaw to assist others who face the same challenges. This works in more circles than just personality, too. Isn't God amazing?

I will tell you something disturbing

2004-05-29T02:01:00.000-07:00

Beware the silence of your own thought in the middle of the night. At such times you are susceptable to strange influences. A tired mind is weakened against the powers that covet our minds to devour them. Earlier in the day I originated some words that seemed wise. I present them for your edification; hopefully it's not too confusing.

A quiet mind is a doorway for the devil,
But a peaceful mind will abide in God's presence.

The words presented themselves of their own volition, but Jesus himself told a parable of a man from which a demon was cast. After that he cleaned his house and put it in order, but the demon later returned with seven of his friends and the man's second state was worse than his first. Furthermore, studies and anecdotes abound of the dangers of transcendental meditation, which empties the mind of all thought in an attempt to connect with the "universal consciousness" or "the void." Such concepts are, to me, thinly veiled deceptions at best, if not outright advertisements to invite satan into yourself. He is an entity that seeks to swallow your spirit in his hatred, which is insatiable. Isn't that the hallmark of damnation itself: to forfeit the identity that God gave you in favor of an illusion which consumes your soul? Read the book Perelandra by C.S. Lewis for a fictional supposition of how this might take form. My stomach turns at the thought.

Therefore, don't seek to quiet your mind, rather seek the Peace which passes all understanding. Consider nature as an excellent example. The most peaceful settings are far from the quietest. A summery field or the shore or a forest glen abound with the noises of water, of animals or children at play. Absolute silence is usually indicitave of some impending disaster, like an earthquake, for example. When you find yourself in such a silence, awaken the link between yourself and the Lord and be reassured by his immediacy.

One other interesting side effect of being too tired is that you begin to hallucinate. This is not abnormal, as you can find out in any psychology course, only most people don't recognize having hallucinated because the images are always very brief, no more than a "frame" of mind-time, if you will. I always recognize them, but I can rarely discern what the image was. The memory of it dies quickly without reinforcement.

Well, that's all for now. I'm too tired to write more.

Something wise, something foolish

2004-05-26T12:58:00.000-07:00

I've been wrestling with the notion that I'm obligated to fill this in on a regular basis. Might require 20 lashes to purge myself of it.

I present to you a haiku of my own composition:

山上で立つ
陣風吹きの方
人生が通る

I stand on the mountain top, as the gusts blow, so life passes by.

I, wine, have completed my demarcation

2004-05-25T16:54:00.000-07:00

Nothing beats a thunderstorm. God manifests Himself quite strikingly within them. The intense energy and heat of lightning and the profound rumbling of the thunder speak of His majesty and might. The wind blows furiously then subsides, ascribing sovereignty and mercy to Him who directs it, and the rain that falls returns life to a creation marred by the fall. If I'm ever in need of something to marvel about God, nature is right there to impress me. You may not see it from my point of view as, an engineer. All I see surrounding me is an immense system comprised of an infinite number of subsystems from the spinning of the cosmos down to the stuff that comprises what comrpises elementary particles. The hallmark of good design is how well a system works with the systems it interfaces with, and the interface is flawless in every system I examine. It's a pitiful waste of intellect to attempt to compartmentalize all that, dissect it and categorize it, then try to say that it all happened by chance. It's absolutely absurd, yet patently so I suppose.

Ahh, the quarter is coming to a close at last. Got one quarter-long assignment out of the way, got a final project that seems fairly easy, and the final project doesn't seem insurmountable except for getting good results. But I guess if we can show them that we tried, that's good enough. Research projects aren't always successful.

Eagerly awaiting word from Lockheed Martin about the EME position. It's in His hands, however, so I'm doing my best to assume I didn't get the job so that I have to trust Him fully with that area of my life. It's one of two that I tend to have trouble losing control of.

Had an amazing talk with Tia last night, very refreshing. I'm thankful that we're still able to have lengthy discussions about everything. Such communication is the cornerstone of any relationship, romantically inclined or not, but especially in the former sense.

Feeling particularly profound today, quite a switch from the dismal introspection of yesterday. It's baffling that our emotions can be so instable, but we're only human. Perhaps that is why people find it difficult to believe in God, they can't see past the haze of their own perception. I heard a man on campus mentioning that he was becoming increasingly atheistic lately. I recognized him, a friend of Tia's from TS, and it made my heart turn. Then an interesting thought came to me: perhaps people are more prepared to force themselves not to believe in a God than to belive in a God they can't control. There again is that inability to understand anything beyond what we perceive. I believe that ignorance is chosen, not innate. What a shame so many choose it.