Originally posted Wednesday, July 9, 2008 at 2:55am
I am leaving Thursday, July 10 to study Spanish at la Universidad Autónoma de Guadalajara in Guadalajara, Mexico. This may be the last note I write for some time; I’m not sure. I probably won’t be checking the computer much in Mexico; in fact, I’m not even sure if my laptop is coming with me or not. My laptop has a virus and is very very sick. I don’t know if it will pull through. Also, I can’t install skype onto my laptop here because I can’t get onto the Internet with it.
I will remain in Mexico until August 9, at which point I will return home. Classes at OU start on August 25th. I don’t have a flight to Oklahoma booked yet, but I will remain in New Hampshire until at least the 16th or 17th, if not later. I look forward to seeing lots of New Hampshirites during that time. If you are reading this from out of state, yes, we really are called that.
I am both excited and terrified for Mexico. If I am lucky, I will get to make some authentic Mexican foods, visit an Indian village, see an art museum, shop at what I am told is the largest covered market in all of Latin America, and watch my first ever professional soccer match. I’m also kind of hoping I find a Mexican wrestling mask somewhere so that next semester my unsuspecting roommate can become “El Frogtorb.” Men applaud, women swoon, dastardly scoundrels relieve themselves in their britches before the masked might of “El Frogtorb.”
On second thought, people already feel that way about Anthony. He might be far too convincing for anyone to take “El Frogtorb” seriously.
So unfortunately I have barely been able to sleep at night this summer, owing to my own poor sleep habits and the fact that my thoughts keep me awake. A few weeks ago, in a fit of pique, I turned on the television to console myself and began watching one of the Spanish channels. First I saw the end of an infomercial for el “Miracle Blade.” I watched a man in a chef suit cut through a boot and a pineapple with el Miracle Blade. He was quite good at slicing tomatoes as well. I was jealous.
I’m not very good at cutting tomatoes, dear reader. If any of you went to the restaurant where I work during finals week and found really screwed-up tomato slices on your sandwich, I apologize. That was me.
Next a trashy daytime talk show came on, which was strange since it was three in the morning. The first segment was called “Mi novia le quitó la virginidad a mi hermano.” Now, I’m no Spaniard, but I believe that loosely translates to, “My girlfriend deflowered my brother.” The guests for that segment really didn’t seem to get along too well at all. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though, so I’m not exactly sure what they were arguing about.
(Speaking of classy programming, earlier that day I had almost watched one of the fine reality dating shows on MTV. However – I’m no neurologist, dear reader, but it soon occurred to me that if I did not spare myself this cruel fate, I would immediately begin to lose brain cells. And I need all the brain cells I can get. I can’t be taking any chances with my pretties.)
I’d like to think Spanish talk shows could help me. I figure, if I just watch one illicit love affair a day, I will surely learn the language. My brain cells may die, but they will speak Spanish once they’re dead. But I don’t know, the people on those shows are impossible to understand.
I have a little better luck with foreign films. I had almost forgotten how fun and helpful they are until my delightful friend Becky indirectly reminded me. On Monday I watched “Maria Full of Grace” and learned some important life lessons. You know those people who swallow drugs in order to smuggle them into America? And you know those other people who get the drugs back out of them once they arrive? Well, if you want friends, you should NOT hang out with those people. They are not your friends.
The second group I mentioned, that is. The first group is slightly misunderstood.
I also watched “That Obscure Object of Desire” by Luis Buñuel. Unfortunately, that movie turned out to be in French, which I should have realized, since Buñuel is well-known for a short Surrealist film called “Un chien andalou.” I could actually understand a lot of the dialogue, which made me feel good about myself but isn’t really helpful for my present situation. At any rate, it was sort of interesting to watch, since a novel I read last summer, “Middlesex” by Jeffrey Eugenides, alluded to the title. “Middlesex” is the fascinating tale of a little girl who grows up to become a man.
Currently I’m in the middle of another Spanish movie, “The Motorcycle Diaries,” which is about Che Guevara and a road trip around Latin America that he took with a friend of his before he was famous. So far he’s having a few problems on the trip. You know, I bet that if he had taken a picture of himself, put it on a t-shirt, and sold it to people as he went along, the trip would have gone a lot more smoothly.
Also, tonight I got to go to the local art-house theater and watch“Mongol” with my delightful friends Chris and Kevin, and what a rip-roaring adventure that turned out to be! Two hours and six minutes of Mongolian carnage! I must say, Mongolian is such a beautiful language. So guttural!
(The main character is a young man named Temudgin, who eventually becomes the figure we know and love as Genghis Khan. At one point he tells his children that Mongolian is the most beautiful language in the world and that someday everyone will understand it.)
I also learned a couple of valuable life lessons from that film. One is that you should NEVER betray your khan. Another is that a wife should have strong legs because they make a man happy. Also, something about how if she has big eyes, evil spirits and stuff will crawl in them and make her go insane, but I’m not sure if that’s actually true.
I know what you’re thinking, dear reader: “Mongol” sounds like a compelling cinematic experience, but is there throat-singing? Is there?! More than you could ever possibly want! I was in heaven. I only wish I could sing like them.
On the way home, we almost hit a couple of longboarders and a family of skunks. Then we talked for a while as we watched some geese float on the town pond. Really, the only downside to the evening was that the little voice in the back of my skull that thinks up jokes kept bothering me during the movie, but I can live with that.
Because I like to conclude my notes with something from the Bible, I will leave you with a story I ran across today in 2 Chronicles chapter 18. Jehoshaphat, the Good King of Judah, has gone to visit Ahab, the Evil King of Israel. Ahab wants them to go to war together against some place called Ramoth Gilead. I will spare you the entire story, but I was struck by the following passage:
5 So the king of Israel brought together the prophets—four hundred men—and asked them, "Shall we go to war against Ramoth Gilead, or shall I refrain?"
"Go," they answered, "for God will give it into the king's hand."
6 But Jehoshaphat asked, "Is there not a prophet of the LORD here whom we can inquire of?"
7 The king of Israel answered Jehoshaphat, "There is still one man through whom we can inquire of the LORD, but I hate him because he never prophesies anything good about me, but always bad. He is Micaiah son of Imlah."
"The king should not say that," Jehoshaphat replied.
There’s probably an important life lesson here, but I’m too tired to figure out what it is. At any rate, it’s an interesting commentary on the clash between what’s true and what’s convenient.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Test the spirits to see whether they are from God
Originally posted Thursday, July 3, 2008 at 10:54pm
So it has come to my attention that tomorrow is the Fourth of July, which is the day that America told Britain we were tired of their rules and sick of being grounded every time we threw an awesome party in Boston Harbor. Fun fact: did you know there’s no such thing as July 4 in Britain? They call it July 3 ½ over there. OK, I made that up, but admit it, that sounds like something the British would do.
This reminds me of a movie promo I saw recently, from the makers of “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow.” It turns out the promo was for a movie called “10,000 B.C.” , which is too bad. I was really hoping for “The Day After Independence Day.”
Now, I’m no filmmaker, dear reader, but that’s the movie I’d make, if I became one. Let me paint you the picture: it’s mid-afternoon. All is quiet. The birds are chirping in the trees. The Founding Fathers wake up intensely hung over and realize they have a country to run.
***
I think it’s time for a story from earlier this summer, when I was in San Francisco. I was walking through Chinatown with my family when some random person approached me and gave me a newspaper flier about Falun Dafa, otherwise known as Falun Gong. I am sure he would have given me a lovely speech about how awesomely awesome Falun Gong is, except that I had to catch up with the rest of the tour.
Let me just pause this story and say that I am a rather suggestible person. I was recently talked into getting a trial subscription of The New York Times that I didn’t actually want by an overly enthusiastic telemarketer. I also once gave $2.00 to a solicitor who wanted money for some charity work being done by the quote-unquote “Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity.” As it turns out, that’s the Unification Church, which is a . . . cult.
I hope cults do actual charity work sometimes and don’t just spend all their time recruiting for their cult. Because I’m not going to lie, that’s what I’d do, you know, if I ever started a cult.
When I am 70 I am going to be one of those old people who gets talked into giving thousands of dollars to some friendly con man who wants to invest in the Brooklyn Bridge or something, so if any of you reading this don’t like me very much and decide to pursue a life of crime, give me a ring fifty years from now and I’ll put your grandchildren through college.
Because that’s what con men do with their money. They put their kids through college so that they can go to business school and become CEOs of large corporations and earn an honest living. I’ve just saved you valuable time in figuring out how to allocate your ill-gotten gains.
So really, give me a call. I don’t bite. It will be just like taking life savings from senior citizens.
Fortunately, when telemarketers call, half the time they hang up on me. See, they think they’re talking to a real person, and they launch into their whole spiel. Then two or three minutes later I tell them they’re talking to the wrong guy and I have no idea how many miles are on my house or what the mortgage rate on my car is, and they magically hang up.
So anyway, you’re probably wondering, what is Falun Gong already?! Well, as far as I understand it, it’s some sort of spiritual practice with yoga-like exercises which originated in China and is currently persecuted by the Chinese government. My handy flier tells me that Falun Gong goes back to ancient times (although the modern history of it begins in 1992). Truth, kindness, and forbearance are somehow involved. I’d tell you more about what its practitioners believe and teach, except every time I try to read about Eastern philosophy, I get really, really bored. But, dear reader, I can tell you this: the flier I was given contains pretty pictures of a blond woman wearing a Falun Gong t-shirt. And the Falun Gong logo contains a yellow swastika surrounded by yingyangs.
It is interesting how people can twist the meanings of language. Xinhua, a state-run Chinese newspaper, once declared that "the so-called 'truth, kindness and forbearance' principle preached by Li [Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong] has nothing in common with the socialist ethical and cultural progress we are striving to achieve."
If I were a Communist government, would I really want to tell the masses that truth is for the gullible, kindness is for sissies, and forbearance is for the weak? I’m not really sure if being anti-truth or pro-cruelty is a good platform. Yet when you put those three words into context as the central ethical teaching of Falun Gong, you come up with something that goes beyond the common meanings of those words, something that a government might disapprove of, or that I as a Christian might disagree with.
Look, I have no problem with the physical exercises qua physical exercises if they are healthy for the body and mind. I don't necessarily have a problem with other Eastern practices such as meditation. And of course we should be upset if practitioners are being mistreated or even tortured in other countries. I don’t mean to imply that Falun Gong is a cult (I don’t think it technically even qualifies as a religion), but of course we should be hesitant to accept any metaphysical or spiritual claims that it makes.
By the way, I apologize if it sounds as though I’m comparing Christianity with totalitarianism.
Scripture of the Week:
Titus 2:1 You must teach what is in accord with sound doctrine.
1 John 4:10-11 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.
So it has come to my attention that tomorrow is the Fourth of July, which is the day that America told Britain we were tired of their rules and sick of being grounded every time we threw an awesome party in Boston Harbor. Fun fact: did you know there’s no such thing as July 4 in Britain? They call it July 3 ½ over there. OK, I made that up, but admit it, that sounds like something the British would do.
This reminds me of a movie promo I saw recently, from the makers of “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow.” It turns out the promo was for a movie called “10,000 B.C.” , which is too bad. I was really hoping for “The Day After Independence Day.”
Now, I’m no filmmaker, dear reader, but that’s the movie I’d make, if I became one. Let me paint you the picture: it’s mid-afternoon. All is quiet. The birds are chirping in the trees. The Founding Fathers wake up intensely hung over and realize they have a country to run.
***
I think it’s time for a story from earlier this summer, when I was in San Francisco. I was walking through Chinatown with my family when some random person approached me and gave me a newspaper flier about Falun Dafa, otherwise known as Falun Gong. I am sure he would have given me a lovely speech about how awesomely awesome Falun Gong is, except that I had to catch up with the rest of the tour.
Let me just pause this story and say that I am a rather suggestible person. I was recently talked into getting a trial subscription of The New York Times that I didn’t actually want by an overly enthusiastic telemarketer. I also once gave $2.00 to a solicitor who wanted money for some charity work being done by the quote-unquote “Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity.” As it turns out, that’s the Unification Church, which is a . . . cult.
I hope cults do actual charity work sometimes and don’t just spend all their time recruiting for their cult. Because I’m not going to lie, that’s what I’d do, you know, if I ever started a cult.
When I am 70 I am going to be one of those old people who gets talked into giving thousands of dollars to some friendly con man who wants to invest in the Brooklyn Bridge or something, so if any of you reading this don’t like me very much and decide to pursue a life of crime, give me a ring fifty years from now and I’ll put your grandchildren through college.
Because that’s what con men do with their money. They put their kids through college so that they can go to business school and become CEOs of large corporations and earn an honest living. I’ve just saved you valuable time in figuring out how to allocate your ill-gotten gains.
So really, give me a call. I don’t bite. It will be just like taking life savings from senior citizens.
Fortunately, when telemarketers call, half the time they hang up on me. See, they think they’re talking to a real person, and they launch into their whole spiel. Then two or three minutes later I tell them they’re talking to the wrong guy and I have no idea how many miles are on my house or what the mortgage rate on my car is, and they magically hang up.
So anyway, you’re probably wondering, what is Falun Gong already?! Well, as far as I understand it, it’s some sort of spiritual practice with yoga-like exercises which originated in China and is currently persecuted by the Chinese government. My handy flier tells me that Falun Gong goes back to ancient times (although the modern history of it begins in 1992). Truth, kindness, and forbearance are somehow involved. I’d tell you more about what its practitioners believe and teach, except every time I try to read about Eastern philosophy, I get really, really bored. But, dear reader, I can tell you this: the flier I was given contains pretty pictures of a blond woman wearing a Falun Gong t-shirt. And the Falun Gong logo contains a yellow swastika surrounded by yingyangs.
It is interesting how people can twist the meanings of language. Xinhua, a state-run Chinese newspaper, once declared that "the so-called 'truth, kindness and forbearance' principle preached by Li [Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong] has nothing in common with the socialist ethical and cultural progress we are striving to achieve."
If I were a Communist government, would I really want to tell the masses that truth is for the gullible, kindness is for sissies, and forbearance is for the weak? I’m not really sure if being anti-truth or pro-cruelty is a good platform. Yet when you put those three words into context as the central ethical teaching of Falun Gong, you come up with something that goes beyond the common meanings of those words, something that a government might disapprove of, or that I as a Christian might disagree with.
Look, I have no problem with the physical exercises qua physical exercises if they are healthy for the body and mind. I don't necessarily have a problem with other Eastern practices such as meditation. And of course we should be upset if practitioners are being mistreated or even tortured in other countries. I don’t mean to imply that Falun Gong is a cult (I don’t think it technically even qualifies as a religion), but of course we should be hesitant to accept any metaphysical or spiritual claims that it makes.
By the way, I apologize if it sounds as though I’m comparing Christianity with totalitarianism.
Scripture of the Week:
Titus 2:1 You must teach what is in accord with sound doctrine.
1 John 4:10-11 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.
How many loaves do you have?
Originally posted Sunday, June 29, 2008 at 2:19am
A few more thoughts from my summer.
Nestled in my copy of last week’s The Boston Sunday Globe there were not one but two copies of The Boston Globe Magazine and one copy of The New York Times Magazine. Now what is that about?
I recently read a short article about George B. Boedecker, Jr., the man behind those luxuriantly ugly yet hideously comfortable shoes everyone loves to hate, Crocs. It was of course his brilliant idea to take a special plastic and make an entire shoe out of it. Anyway, I learned in the course of reading that there is a publication in this fair world of ours called Injection Molding Magazine. While Injection Molding Magazine does not come nestled inside my Boston Sunday Globe every week, I find the mere fact of its existence worrisome enough.
This summer I’ve started brewing my own iced tea at home, but I don’t drink enough tea to know if that’s weird or not. Once I get the water boiling, I find it effective to just dump a whole mess of teabags right into the teapot and then pour the scalding tea-water straight into the pitcher.
I went to the grocery store the other day and was amazed by the variety of tomato sauces there. The cheapest brand was selling at a rate of ten for ten dollars, and I’m no mathematician, but I think that works out to around a dollar a can. The most expensive gourmet brands were nine times as much for a similar-size bottle. Nine times.
This reminds of the sad situation going on in Zimbabwe right now. Zimbabwe used to be one of the most dynamic countries on the continent, a mini-South Africa, before Robert Mugabe and his ruling party, Zanu-PF, drove it into the ground over the past 28 years. Despite apparently losing the presidential election to his longtime opponent, Morgan Tsvangirai, Mugabe refused to admit defeat, and a run-off election was scheduled. Tsvangirai, however, pulled out of the run-off at the last minute, citing the violence and intimidation taking place in the country. As of this writing, final results from the one-candidate election have not yet been reported.
Anyway, inflation is so bad in Zimbabwe that the New York Times reported last Sunday that a loaf of bread now costs 30 billion Zimbabwean dollars. And this is not even magical bread we are talking about. Imagine how much, in Zimbabwean dollars, a single loaf of bread would cost if it happened to resemble Elvis Presley or the Virgin Mary, assuming that that made a difference to starving people.
If a loaf of bread were to cost 30 billion American dollars, it had BETTER be able to reach outer space under its own power. And cure cancer. And make women fall in love with me. If it could do those three things, I would consider it well worth the money.
One final completely unrelated thought, an addendum to my thoughts on the book of Hosea from a few weeks ago: I found out not too long ago that Hosea 11:1 is quoted in Matthew as a prophecy concerning Jesus’ childhood, which I thought was sort of cool.
Hosea 11:1
1 When Israel was a child, I loved him,
and out of Egypt I called my son.
A few more thoughts from my summer.
Nestled in my copy of last week’s The Boston Sunday Globe there were not one but two copies of The Boston Globe Magazine and one copy of The New York Times Magazine. Now what is that about?
I recently read a short article about George B. Boedecker, Jr., the man behind those luxuriantly ugly yet hideously comfortable shoes everyone loves to hate, Crocs. It was of course his brilliant idea to take a special plastic and make an entire shoe out of it. Anyway, I learned in the course of reading that there is a publication in this fair world of ours called Injection Molding Magazine. While Injection Molding Magazine does not come nestled inside my Boston Sunday Globe every week, I find the mere fact of its existence worrisome enough.
This summer I’ve started brewing my own iced tea at home, but I don’t drink enough tea to know if that’s weird or not. Once I get the water boiling, I find it effective to just dump a whole mess of teabags right into the teapot and then pour the scalding tea-water straight into the pitcher.
I went to the grocery store the other day and was amazed by the variety of tomato sauces there. The cheapest brand was selling at a rate of ten for ten dollars, and I’m no mathematician, but I think that works out to around a dollar a can. The most expensive gourmet brands were nine times as much for a similar-size bottle. Nine times.
This reminds of the sad situation going on in Zimbabwe right now. Zimbabwe used to be one of the most dynamic countries on the continent, a mini-South Africa, before Robert Mugabe and his ruling party, Zanu-PF, drove it into the ground over the past 28 years. Despite apparently losing the presidential election to his longtime opponent, Morgan Tsvangirai, Mugabe refused to admit defeat, and a run-off election was scheduled. Tsvangirai, however, pulled out of the run-off at the last minute, citing the violence and intimidation taking place in the country. As of this writing, final results from the one-candidate election have not yet been reported.
Anyway, inflation is so bad in Zimbabwe that the New York Times reported last Sunday that a loaf of bread now costs 30 billion Zimbabwean dollars. And this is not even magical bread we are talking about. Imagine how much, in Zimbabwean dollars, a single loaf of bread would cost if it happened to resemble Elvis Presley or the Virgin Mary, assuming that that made a difference to starving people.
If a loaf of bread were to cost 30 billion American dollars, it had BETTER be able to reach outer space under its own power. And cure cancer. And make women fall in love with me. If it could do those three things, I would consider it well worth the money.
One final completely unrelated thought, an addendum to my thoughts on the book of Hosea from a few weeks ago: I found out not too long ago that Hosea 11:1 is quoted in Matthew as a prophecy concerning Jesus’ childhood, which I thought was sort of cool.
Hosea 11:1
1 When Israel was a child, I loved him,
and out of Egypt I called my son.
El niño que podía hablar con las nubes
Originally posted Thursday, June 26, 2008 at 1:00am
Here is the rough Spanish version of a story I wrote in Chinese last semester. I present it for your amusement and correction. It's about a little boy who can talk to clouds. The other children mistreat him because he's different, but eventually he becomes a highly paid meteorologist.
I should never be allowed to write children's books, but I think this would sort of make a good children's book.
***
Érase una vez que había un niño que podía hablar con las nubes. Era muy inteligente, pero no era como los otros niños.
Por amigos, él tenía sólo sus padres y las nubes. Además de ellos no habían nadie.
Los otros niños a menudo lo golpeaban hasta que llorara.
Por lo general él estaba muy triste.
Un día le dijeron sus padres, "Nos preocupamos de tí. Creemos que debieras mudarte a las montañas para estudiar la meteorología."
Él dijo, "¿Quieren decirme que debo partir de casa?"
"Sí," dijeron ellos. "De esta manera te encontrarás fuera de peligro, y también nos ahorraramos dinero. Tú debieras irte de inmediato."
"No me da la gana," él replicó. "¿Está bien?"
"Tendrás que irte," ellos dijeron. "De lo contrario, no podremos ayudarte. Cuando llegas a las montañas muy lejanas, podrás estudiar con tus profesores extraordinarios."
El niño insistió en que llevara muchas empanadas de frijoles de estilo casero. Él caminó por tres días, comiéndolas mientras que caminaba.
Las nubes le dijeron, "Vamos a enseñarte la meteorología. Lloveremos, nevaremos, y haremos niebla. En las montañas el tiempo no es agradable, pero así es más interesante."
El niño estudió la meteorología con las nubes por cuatro años. Cuando sus estudios terminaron, él se dedicó a la escuela graduada. Él encontró un empleo como meteorologista y ganaba mucho dinero.
De entonces en adelante, todo el mundo continuamente quería ser sus amigos, pero él siempre les decía, "Lo siento, pero solamente hablo con las nubes."
El fin.
Here is the rough Spanish version of a story I wrote in Chinese last semester. I present it for your amusement and correction. It's about a little boy who can talk to clouds. The other children mistreat him because he's different, but eventually he becomes a highly paid meteorologist.
I should never be allowed to write children's books, but I think this would sort of make a good children's book.
***
Érase una vez que había un niño que podía hablar con las nubes. Era muy inteligente, pero no era como los otros niños.
Por amigos, él tenía sólo sus padres y las nubes. Además de ellos no habían nadie.
Los otros niños a menudo lo golpeaban hasta que llorara.
Por lo general él estaba muy triste.
Un día le dijeron sus padres, "Nos preocupamos de tí. Creemos que debieras mudarte a las montañas para estudiar la meteorología."
Él dijo, "¿Quieren decirme que debo partir de casa?"
"Sí," dijeron ellos. "De esta manera te encontrarás fuera de peligro, y también nos ahorraramos dinero. Tú debieras irte de inmediato."
"No me da la gana," él replicó. "¿Está bien?"
"Tendrás que irte," ellos dijeron. "De lo contrario, no podremos ayudarte. Cuando llegas a las montañas muy lejanas, podrás estudiar con tus profesores extraordinarios."
El niño insistió en que llevara muchas empanadas de frijoles de estilo casero. Él caminó por tres días, comiéndolas mientras que caminaba.
Las nubes le dijeron, "Vamos a enseñarte la meteorología. Lloveremos, nevaremos, y haremos niebla. En las montañas el tiempo no es agradable, pero así es más interesante."
El niño estudió la meteorología con las nubes por cuatro años. Cuando sus estudios terminaron, él se dedicó a la escuela graduada. Él encontró un empleo como meteorologista y ganaba mucho dinero.
De entonces en adelante, todo el mundo continuamente quería ser sus amigos, pero él siempre les decía, "Lo siento, pero solamente hablo con las nubes."
El fin.
Indeed, some Hamites had been living there prior to that
Originally posted Sunday, June 22, 2008 at 1:40pm
First of all, the statistics I originally cited in my previous note were wrong. Prostitution is only legal in Nevadan counties boasting less than 250,000 residents (not 100,000). Of course, in either case, prostitution is illegal in Washoe and Clark Counties, where Reno and Las Vegas, respectively, are located. So, once again, I apologize for the error, and to steal my friend’s joke, I am deeply sorry if this affected your purchasing decisions involving prostitutes. I am not, however, deeply sorry for stealing his joke, because, to steal one of my own jokes, theft is property, or in other words, if you steal something, it’s yours*.
I would also like to give a big thank-you to everyone who left comments. Your kind words mean a lot to me. They are a big part of the reason that I have not yet gone completely insane. (Some of you who know me well may think this has already happened.)
I also don’t want to give anyone a holier-than-thou sort of impression. Hopefully I’m improving, but I don’t consider myself an exceptionally moral person. My life is JUST like an episode of VH1’s Behind the Music, except without the fame, fortune, rock music, groupies, or substance abuse.
Fun fact: 1 and 2 Chronicles, which are one book in the original Hebrew manuscripts, provide an additional take on material also found in 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings. The Greek name for the Chronicles, Paralipomena, means “things omitted.”
Now, if you enjoy genealogies as much as I do, then 1 Chronicles is the most exciting book in the entire Bible. I credit my ability to get through the book mostly to the fact that my study method involves crayons. Anyway, 1 Ch 4:9-10 is a very odd passage:
4:9 Jabez was more respected than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, for she said, “I experienced pain when I gave birth to him.” 4:10 Jabez called out to the God of Israel, “If only you would greatly bless me and expand my territory! May your hand be with me! Keep me from harm so I might not endure pain!” God answered his prayer. (NET)
(Note: most translations translate the word “respected” here as “honorable.” I’ve also seen one Lutheran source arguing it should be “honored,” which I find kind of funny because Lutherans always like to say that humans cannot do anything to merit God’s favor and God is basically just being nice to us.)
What’s so strange about this passage is that it pops up unexpectedly in the middle of a genealogy that doesn’t even say how Jabez is related to anyone else on the list. These are the only two verses in the entire Bible that even mention Jabez. (1 Chronicles 2:55 mentions a place of the same name.)
Now, back in 2001, some guy named Bruce Wilkerson wrote a book called “The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life.” It’s apparently the poor man’s “Purpose-Driven Life,” though, by which I mean it has sold a boatload of copies, and there’s probably now a Prayer of Jabez Travel Edition, Soundtrack, Kids Edition, Bible Study Companion, Couples Edition, Singles Edition, Page-a-Day Calendar, Collectors Edition, Keychain, Holiday Gift-Pak Edition, and Bathrobe.
Now, I don’t know too much about this book, but I wouldn’t recommend it, based on some of the criticisms I read. Wilkinson wants you to recite the Prayer of Jabez every morning for a month and to read his book every week for a month, and he assures you that if you boldly pray the prayer of Jabez, then God WILL bless your life and everything will get better and better for you. There are probably lots more things I could say about using some prayer as a success formula, but you guys are all very smart cookies and you’re probably already 12 steps ahead of me on this one.
Shane Claiborne, in his book “The Irresistible Revolution,” (a much better book, by the way) also takes issue with the prayer. His point is that there are better prayers for Christians to emulate, writing, “the constant echo of ‘me’ and ‘my’ of Jabez does not appear once in the Prayer of Jesus (only ‘us’ and ‘our’), and the ‘keep me from harm’ is supplanted by ‘thy will be done.’ ”
It is true that material prosperity, particularly in the Old Testament, is one of the ways that God blesses his faithful servants, but God also makes it rain on both the just and the unjust, and as Christians we are called to participate in the ministry and the suffering of Christ. Sometimes the faithful are rewarded for their trouble with persecution and death.
If, however, the prayer of Jabez is a good prayer on some level, as I assume it is, then why? My guess, dear reader, is that it demonstrates an attitude of dependence and reliance upon God. So it is a good prayer in some ways, but we have learned a lot more about God since then, and we can do better.
*Disclaimer: the author does not actually condone stealing of any kind. He also apologizes for the fact that this joke is rather obscure and not actually funny.
First of all, the statistics I originally cited in my previous note were wrong. Prostitution is only legal in Nevadan counties boasting less than 250,000 residents (not 100,000). Of course, in either case, prostitution is illegal in Washoe and Clark Counties, where Reno and Las Vegas, respectively, are located. So, once again, I apologize for the error, and to steal my friend’s joke, I am deeply sorry if this affected your purchasing decisions involving prostitutes. I am not, however, deeply sorry for stealing his joke, because, to steal one of my own jokes, theft is property, or in other words, if you steal something, it’s yours*.
I would also like to give a big thank-you to everyone who left comments. Your kind words mean a lot to me. They are a big part of the reason that I have not yet gone completely insane. (Some of you who know me well may think this has already happened.)
I also don’t want to give anyone a holier-than-thou sort of impression. Hopefully I’m improving, but I don’t consider myself an exceptionally moral person. My life is JUST like an episode of VH1’s Behind the Music, except without the fame, fortune, rock music, groupies, or substance abuse.
Fun fact: 1 and 2 Chronicles, which are one book in the original Hebrew manuscripts, provide an additional take on material also found in 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings. The Greek name for the Chronicles, Paralipomena, means “things omitted.”
Now, if you enjoy genealogies as much as I do, then 1 Chronicles is the most exciting book in the entire Bible. I credit my ability to get through the book mostly to the fact that my study method involves crayons. Anyway, 1 Ch 4:9-10 is a very odd passage:
4:9 Jabez was more respected than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, for she said, “I experienced pain when I gave birth to him.” 4:10 Jabez called out to the God of Israel, “If only you would greatly bless me and expand my territory! May your hand be with me! Keep me from harm so I might not endure pain!” God answered his prayer. (NET)
(Note: most translations translate the word “respected” here as “honorable.” I’ve also seen one Lutheran source arguing it should be “honored,” which I find kind of funny because Lutherans always like to say that humans cannot do anything to merit God’s favor and God is basically just being nice to us.)
What’s so strange about this passage is that it pops up unexpectedly in the middle of a genealogy that doesn’t even say how Jabez is related to anyone else on the list. These are the only two verses in the entire Bible that even mention Jabez. (1 Chronicles 2:55 mentions a place of the same name.)
Now, back in 2001, some guy named Bruce Wilkerson wrote a book called “The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life.” It’s apparently the poor man’s “Purpose-Driven Life,” though, by which I mean it has sold a boatload of copies, and there’s probably now a Prayer of Jabez Travel Edition, Soundtrack, Kids Edition, Bible Study Companion, Couples Edition, Singles Edition, Page-a-Day Calendar, Collectors Edition, Keychain, Holiday Gift-Pak Edition, and Bathrobe.
Now, I don’t know too much about this book, but I wouldn’t recommend it, based on some of the criticisms I read. Wilkinson wants you to recite the Prayer of Jabez every morning for a month and to read his book every week for a month, and he assures you that if you boldly pray the prayer of Jabez, then God WILL bless your life and everything will get better and better for you. There are probably lots more things I could say about using some prayer as a success formula, but you guys are all very smart cookies and you’re probably already 12 steps ahead of me on this one.
Shane Claiborne, in his book “The Irresistible Revolution,” (a much better book, by the way) also takes issue with the prayer. His point is that there are better prayers for Christians to emulate, writing, “the constant echo of ‘me’ and ‘my’ of Jabez does not appear once in the Prayer of Jesus (only ‘us’ and ‘our’), and the ‘keep me from harm’ is supplanted by ‘thy will be done.’ ”
It is true that material prosperity, particularly in the Old Testament, is one of the ways that God blesses his faithful servants, but God also makes it rain on both the just and the unjust, and as Christians we are called to participate in the ministry and the suffering of Christ. Sometimes the faithful are rewarded for their trouble with persecution and death.
If, however, the prayer of Jabez is a good prayer on some level, as I assume it is, then why? My guess, dear reader, is that it demonstrates an attitude of dependence and reliance upon God. So it is a good prayer in some ways, but we have learned a lot more about God since then, and we can do better.
*Disclaimer: the author does not actually condone stealing of any kind. He also apologizes for the fact that this joke is rather obscure and not actually funny.
Though they turn to other gods and love raisin cakes
Originally posted Tuesday, June 10, 2008 at 10:28am
A few reflections from my week in Nevada.
It is a very strange place. Although you can find slot machines in the airport and in the supermarket, there is no state lottery, and raffles are illegal. Prostitution is legal in counties with a population of less than 250,000. But you know what should really be illegal? I went to a little touristy Old West town halfway up a mountain called Virginia City, ordered a smoothie, and was given a slushy. THAT is what should be illegal. Let us review:
Smoothies = fruit + yogurt or juice blended together in a cup of awesome
Slushies = crushed ice + sugary syrup poured on top in a cup of lame
So I watched a television program about the world’s most violent prison riots and learned all kinds of useful things. I learned that an effective dart gun can be forged out of some writing paper, some underwear elastic, and a plastic spoon. I also learned that if you intend to break out of prison, driving a 20-ton bulldozer through the wall is a good way to go about it. However, you should not attempt to use the bulldozer as your getaway vehicle.
You should flee on foot, and although you will probably be caught, it’s OK, because breaking out of prison is perfectly legal in Denmark. You might have to pay for the wall you drove through, but I’m not sure.
I also saw a commercial that puzzled me a little bit, because of the All-American Rejects song playing in the background, the one that goes “even when your hope is gone/move along, move along, like you know you should.” For some reason I wasn’t quite sure if that was very encouraging in an ad for a job training program.
I also read a magazine article from U.S. News and World Report or Sports Illustrated or something like that about the controversy over selling raw milk. Supporters point at the supposed health benefits of raw milk, while opponents, citing decades of research, argue that it increases the risk of salmonella and other nasty things. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but I think Decades of Research would make a pretty good name for a rock band.
I went to the University of Nevada-Reno student cafeteria and saw a sign that said, “If you catch any of our employees exceeding your expectations, fill out a comment card and let us know.” In today’s modern world, in an age of terrorism and global warming, it is vitally necessary for us all to crack down on exceeded expectations.
By the way, if you want to start a food fight or a battle royale in the prison cafeteria, the correctional officers won’t bother you, because it’s too dangerous for them to get in the middle of so many inmates. Just don’t expect the service in the prison cafeteria to exceed your expectations.
The main street in Reno is called Virginia Street, and several of the casinos in Reno are located there. The street alternates between glitzy parts and ghetto-y parts. Reno is a very classy place, although I am told that if you REALLY need a bail bond, the best place to look for one is Hackensack, New Jersey. I am not sure how good Hackensack is for cash advances, though.
I wanted to get my picture taken in front of a classy dining establishment on Virginia Street simply called Jelly Donut, but time did not permit, so alas, you will simply have to imagine it, dear reader.
Unfortunately my cat Mittens died during finals week, the week before I was in Nevada. I didn’t find out about it until after I got back home. Remember all the hubbub a year and a half ago about tainted Chinese pet food? It turns out, if you have any pet food from a year and a half ago in the back of your cupboard, you should probably get rid of it, rather than feed it to your pets.
Although I had no knowledge of my cat’s demise at the time, I was struck with the following question: if your cat had puppies, would you consult a veterinarian?
While I was in Nevada and Hawaii, I was struggling to read through the Old Testament book of Hosea. It’s a short book, but I found it a little hard to get into. Anyway, the main theme of Hosea is God calling out Israel for being unfaithful to Him, sort of like an adulterous marital partner. I leave you with some highlights from Hosea.
Hosea 5:15
15 Then I will go back to my place
until they admit their guilt.
And they will seek my face;
in their misery they will earnestly seek me."
Hosea 6:6
6 For I desire mercy, not sacrifice,
and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.
Hosea 8:11-14
11 "Though Ephraim built many altars for sin offerings,
these have become altars for sinning.
12 I wrote for them the many things of my law,
but they regarded them as something alien.
13 They offer sacrifices given to me
and they eat the meat,
but the LORD is not pleased with them.
Now he will remember their wickedness
and punish their sins:
They will return to Egypt.
14 Israel has forgotten his Maker
and built palaces;
Judah has fortified many towns.
But I will send fire upon their cities
that will consume their fortresses."
Hosea 13:4-6
4 "But I am the LORD your God,
who brought you out of Egypt.
You shall acknowledge no God but me,
no Savior except me.
5 I cared for you in the desert,
in the land of burning heat.
6 When I fed them, they were satisfied;
when they were satisfied, they became proud;
then they forgot me.
A few reflections from my week in Nevada.
It is a very strange place. Although you can find slot machines in the airport and in the supermarket, there is no state lottery, and raffles are illegal. Prostitution is legal in counties with a population of less than 250,000. But you know what should really be illegal? I went to a little touristy Old West town halfway up a mountain called Virginia City, ordered a smoothie, and was given a slushy. THAT is what should be illegal. Let us review:
Smoothies = fruit + yogurt or juice blended together in a cup of awesome
Slushies = crushed ice + sugary syrup poured on top in a cup of lame
So I watched a television program about the world’s most violent prison riots and learned all kinds of useful things. I learned that an effective dart gun can be forged out of some writing paper, some underwear elastic, and a plastic spoon. I also learned that if you intend to break out of prison, driving a 20-ton bulldozer through the wall is a good way to go about it. However, you should not attempt to use the bulldozer as your getaway vehicle.
You should flee on foot, and although you will probably be caught, it’s OK, because breaking out of prison is perfectly legal in Denmark. You might have to pay for the wall you drove through, but I’m not sure.
I also saw a commercial that puzzled me a little bit, because of the All-American Rejects song playing in the background, the one that goes “even when your hope is gone/move along, move along, like you know you should.” For some reason I wasn’t quite sure if that was very encouraging in an ad for a job training program.
I also read a magazine article from U.S. News and World Report or Sports Illustrated or something like that about the controversy over selling raw milk. Supporters point at the supposed health benefits of raw milk, while opponents, citing decades of research, argue that it increases the risk of salmonella and other nasty things. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but I think Decades of Research would make a pretty good name for a rock band.
I went to the University of Nevada-Reno student cafeteria and saw a sign that said, “If you catch any of our employees exceeding your expectations, fill out a comment card and let us know.” In today’s modern world, in an age of terrorism and global warming, it is vitally necessary for us all to crack down on exceeded expectations.
By the way, if you want to start a food fight or a battle royale in the prison cafeteria, the correctional officers won’t bother you, because it’s too dangerous for them to get in the middle of so many inmates. Just don’t expect the service in the prison cafeteria to exceed your expectations.
The main street in Reno is called Virginia Street, and several of the casinos in Reno are located there. The street alternates between glitzy parts and ghetto-y parts. Reno is a very classy place, although I am told that if you REALLY need a bail bond, the best place to look for one is Hackensack, New Jersey. I am not sure how good Hackensack is for cash advances, though.
I wanted to get my picture taken in front of a classy dining establishment on Virginia Street simply called Jelly Donut, but time did not permit, so alas, you will simply have to imagine it, dear reader.
Unfortunately my cat Mittens died during finals week, the week before I was in Nevada. I didn’t find out about it until after I got back home. Remember all the hubbub a year and a half ago about tainted Chinese pet food? It turns out, if you have any pet food from a year and a half ago in the back of your cupboard, you should probably get rid of it, rather than feed it to your pets.
Although I had no knowledge of my cat’s demise at the time, I was struck with the following question: if your cat had puppies, would you consult a veterinarian?
While I was in Nevada and Hawaii, I was struggling to read through the Old Testament book of Hosea. It’s a short book, but I found it a little hard to get into. Anyway, the main theme of Hosea is God calling out Israel for being unfaithful to Him, sort of like an adulterous marital partner. I leave you with some highlights from Hosea.
Hosea 5:15
15 Then I will go back to my place
until they admit their guilt.
And they will seek my face;
in their misery they will earnestly seek me."
Hosea 6:6
6 For I desire mercy, not sacrifice,
and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.
Hosea 8:11-14
11 "Though Ephraim built many altars for sin offerings,
these have become altars for sinning.
12 I wrote for them the many things of my law,
but they regarded them as something alien.
13 They offer sacrifices given to me
and they eat the meat,
but the LORD is not pleased with them.
Now he will remember their wickedness
and punish their sins:
They will return to Egypt.
14 Israel has forgotten his Maker
and built palaces;
Judah has fortified many towns.
But I will send fire upon their cities
that will consume their fortresses."
Hosea 13:4-6
4 "But I am the LORD your God,
who brought you out of Egypt.
You shall acknowledge no God but me,
no Savior except me.
5 I cared for you in the desert,
in the land of burning heat.
6 When I fed them, they were satisfied;
when they were satisfied, they became proud;
then they forgot me.
Of whom the world was not worthy
Originally posted Sunday, January 13, 2008 at 3:06am
Well, it’s time for another semester at OU, and I’m very hopeful but also apprehensive. The truth is that although a lot of good things happened this winter break, on the whole it was lacking. I am unhappy with myself for not accomplishing all the things I set out to accomplish. In addition I was hoping to find answers to some questions that have been dogging me for a while, but none are forthcoming.
The good news is, I learned from a fortune cookie I ate today that “things are turning for the bright side.”
I learned from another fortune cookie that “all happiness is in the mind,” and I really believe it. I become very sad thinking of all the suffering there is in this world, but with the right attitude, a person can endure almost anything. With the wrong attitude, all the riches of the world can’t make a person happy.
Apparently people in America are ten times more likely to be depressed than they were sixty years ago, and people in some primitive societies in New Guinea almost never get depressed. Lifestyle is obviously a huge factor in this. If we all spent just a little more time hunting and gathering to stay in shape, socializing with our in-laws, and staring at our light boxes, we’d all be much happier.
Another thing I learned last semester is that if you put enough pizza in your refrigerator for long enough, your milk will eventually start to smell like pizza.
I’m pretty sure I heard the best radio advertisement ever today, and I’m sure you will all find it every bit as reassuring as I did. It was about the top 8 mistakes that investors make, and it began like this: “Maybe you don’t consider yourself affluent. Maybe you’ve never thought of yourself as a high-net-worth investor. But it doesn’t matter what kind of car you drive or what kind of home you live in; if you have over $500,000 in investments, you’re a high-net-worth investor.”
I also realized today how out-of-touch I’ve become when I saw the commercial for the new Kidz Bop 13 CD and only recognized about half of the songs. Clearly this is a product I need, so that I can groove to the sound of an ungainly mob of pre-teens singing “Party Like a Rock Star.”
I leave you with one final thought which kind of ties into the enduring-almost-anything-thing. The eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews is a beautifully poetic treatise on faith and those who have it, and I am especially fond of verses 37-38, where the persecuted saints living before the time of Christ are described in these stirring words:
They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated – of whom the world was not worthy – wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.
Well, it’s time for another semester at OU, and I’m very hopeful but also apprehensive. The truth is that although a lot of good things happened this winter break, on the whole it was lacking. I am unhappy with myself for not accomplishing all the things I set out to accomplish. In addition I was hoping to find answers to some questions that have been dogging me for a while, but none are forthcoming.
The good news is, I learned from a fortune cookie I ate today that “things are turning for the bright side.”
I learned from another fortune cookie that “all happiness is in the mind,” and I really believe it. I become very sad thinking of all the suffering there is in this world, but with the right attitude, a person can endure almost anything. With the wrong attitude, all the riches of the world can’t make a person happy.
Apparently people in America are ten times more likely to be depressed than they were sixty years ago, and people in some primitive societies in New Guinea almost never get depressed. Lifestyle is obviously a huge factor in this. If we all spent just a little more time hunting and gathering to stay in shape, socializing with our in-laws, and staring at our light boxes, we’d all be much happier.
Another thing I learned last semester is that if you put enough pizza in your refrigerator for long enough, your milk will eventually start to smell like pizza.
I’m pretty sure I heard the best radio advertisement ever today, and I’m sure you will all find it every bit as reassuring as I did. It was about the top 8 mistakes that investors make, and it began like this: “Maybe you don’t consider yourself affluent. Maybe you’ve never thought of yourself as a high-net-worth investor. But it doesn’t matter what kind of car you drive or what kind of home you live in; if you have over $500,000 in investments, you’re a high-net-worth investor.”
I also realized today how out-of-touch I’ve become when I saw the commercial for the new Kidz Bop 13 CD and only recognized about half of the songs. Clearly this is a product I need, so that I can groove to the sound of an ungainly mob of pre-teens singing “Party Like a Rock Star.”
I leave you with one final thought which kind of ties into the enduring-almost-anything-thing. The eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews is a beautifully poetic treatise on faith and those who have it, and I am especially fond of verses 37-38, where the persecuted saints living before the time of Christ are described in these stirring words:
They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated – of whom the world was not worthy – wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.
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