Person

The truth is a Person
The truth is not my ego
The truth is not a moral code
The truth is not an intellectual argument
The truth is not a blog, blogging or blogger
The truth is not the Bible, but the Bible can be true
The truth is not a theology, but a theologian can be true
The truth is not a personality
The truth is a Person

Bob: he might be drunk

Abba Benjamin

As he lay dying, Abba Benjamin said to his sons, "If you observe the following, you can be saved. 'Be joyful at all times, pray without ceasing and give thanks for all things.'"

An evening in Rome

The convent/hotel we stayed at is like many buildings that I observed in Rome -- it seems to resemble a fortress/compound as much as it does a residence. There are three buildings: the convent itself, which is connected to a second building in which rooms are rented by offices and a dining room/kitchen. There is also a third building in which rooms are rented (we were staying there) that is unattached to the others with a courtyard between the three. All of this is enclosed by a 8 ft. tall iron fence with pointy ends at the top.

The third night we returned to our convent/hotel at 10:45 PM, safely ahead of the curfew at 11 PM. The only problem was that everything was already locked up. The iron gate was closed, the door about 10 ft. or so behind it was shut and everything was dark inside.

In light of some of the stressful events that we faced the first day of our trip (we had trouble pulling out money from the ATM, initially finding where we were staying and for 15 tense minutes, thought we had lost our passports), the temptation at this point to be overly negative was great. However, we resisted and remained positive. At least for about 3 minutes, maybe less (ha!) . We rang the buzzer outside the gate figuring that it would quickly wake up the sisters inside. Unfortunately, it did not wake up the sisters but did have the effect of waking up many of the folks who were renting rooms. I was feeling somewhat desperate to try to notify someone prior to 11 PM so it would be known that we arrived prior to the curfew. I went around to the side of the compound which borders on the street to see if I could jump the fence and get inside the courtyard.

I found a ledge and jumped up to try to hop over. When I got up on the fence it was very close to a window that had some renters inside. A startled woman who must have heard me trying to climb the fence came to the window. Feeling distressed, I tried to explain what was going on to her using basic English and implore her to leave her room to wake the sisters up. My frantic attempt at communication seemed to only have the effect of further alarming the woman. I could hear several women speaking inside the room and someone whom I could not see said in a very monotone voice "we don't understand." With that, the window was closed.

With frustrations mounting, I hopped over the fence and climbed into the courtyard. Inside the courtyard, I tried to yell up to the rooms in which I thought the sisters were staying, "Hello! You locked us out a little early! We need to get inside to our room! Per favore! Per favore!"

The sisters did not wake up. I pounded on windows. I tried to throw little stones up to the nuns windows. I briefly contemplated vandalism. Nothing succeeded in waking up the sisters.

Meanwhile, Olivia had been continuously ringing the buzzer this entire time. It is quite loud and rang throughout the courtyard, which of course, woke up and kept everyone up (except the sisters). Someone yelled out of their window at me in Italian. Another person said they were calling the police. I think it was to help us but it may have been in the hopes of to trying to get us to shut up and stop ringing the buzzer.

I jumped back over the fence to check on Olivia. She was in tears. At this point, it must have been over half an hour since we arrived at the convent. It seemed futile to continue to ring the buzzer and we couldn't sleep in the street. Our best option seemed to be to climb the fence, get in the courtyard and try to fall asleep on some benches that were there.

It turns out the room with the woman that I had startled earlier contained 3 middle aged Polish women. Olivia's tears were able to transcend the barrier of language and the women were moved to compassion for our plight. Once inside the courtyard, we could see the Poles scurrying about in the hallway, trying to get to the convent side of the compound. Unfortunately, it was locked and they assured us it was "impossible" for them to get to the other side.

Exhausted and resigned to our fate of a night in the courtyard, we made our way to the benches. Just as we were lying down, we heard some commotion out in the street. I hopped up onto the fence to take a look and saw that two police officers had arrived. Both Olivia and I hopped over the fence again (were were getting bruises from the iron fence each time we went over) and tried to explain what was going on, which must have taken about 15 minutes since only one of the officers spoke a little English.

In the midst of it all, an intercom connected to the fence which we had tried speaking into to no avail inexplicably burst forth with the sound of a woman speaking in Italian. The sisters were awake! Within 10 minutes we were safely in our room at about 12:40 AM.

While waiting for the sisters to open the gate, one of the officers asked us what we did for a living. I told him "counselor." When he asked what sort of counselor, I mimed the motion of smoking a cigarette and said the word "quit." He started laughing as a few minutes earlier, a dude walked out of the building across the street and randomly came directly to us to ask for a light. We told him we didn't have one and Olivia remarked that we help people quit smoking for a living but at that point the officers didn't understand what she said. They got it now.

Apparently, the officer who knew a little English was trying to quit and let us know he was reading some sort of smoking cessation book. He was trying to describe what type of book it was and Olivia remarked (I'm not sure why) something to the effect of, "As long as it isn't by Dr. Oz, you should be okay." The officer looked at us with a funny expression on his face and said, "All my friends call me Dr. Oz; it's my nickname." We were shocked he even knew who Dr. Oz was and indeed there was a resemblance. After laughing for a bit at the coincidence, the officer spoke a few sentences to his partner in Italian and in the middle of the communication, clearly said the words "Ned Flanders." Olivia quickly asked them, "Did you just say Ned Flanders?" The officer started laughing and pointing at us (by this time we were all laughing), surprised that we caught onto what he was saying. From what I could gather, the officer who did not speak any English was lucky enough to have "Ned Flanders" as a nickname (Ned Flanders is one of the characters on the TV show "The Simpsons").

As we were being let into the convent I snapped two pictures of the officers, the first of which was unposed and the second, at the officers insistence, with them posing. The officer who didn't know any English must have known a few words since as I was getting ready to snap the second shot, he said "Facebook."

The following morning, it just so happened that the 3 Polish women were in the breakfast hall with us, along with a young Italian couple that had called the police (either on us or for us). We all had a good time recalling the previous nights' events, especially when someone rang the buzzer from outside the front gate!

Another day at the urinal

I entered our office bathroom earlier today and found our CEO at one of the urinals, well, urinating. In a bold move, I chose the urinal next to him (of the two available) and to my surprise, he greeted my arrival with, "Hey, J.B." I responded with, "Hey, Tim."

We then continued urinating in silence for the next few moments. I briefly considered attempting to engage him in small talk mid-urination, but quickly decided against it as our relationship is just not at that level.

After he was done, he zipped up his pants and left. I believe that he washed his hands.

An answer

"All will be saved; only I shall be lost."


-- St. Anthony

I hope it's not rear end

I have been a fan of the "Real Men of Genius" ads by Budweiser for some time. The dude that sings the Top Gun theme has lent his pipes to "Mr. Backyard Bug Zapper Inventor," "Mr. Paranoid of the Ocean Guy," and "Mr. Indie Band Member." Without further ado, I present "Mr. Boneless Buffalo Wing Inventor." I wish I could take credit for the graphic that corresponds with the audio, but alas, I did not create it.

As you can see, this blog is quickly degenerating into a brief multimedia commentary.

Diappointed for the last time

I am a longtime fan of the band U2. However, my loyalties have their limits. Bono has put me through a lot over the years. Each successive album has grown more bloated and overproduced and Bono subjects us to his proselytizing at every opportunity. As a result, in recent years my interest in the band has waned. In some ways I wondered, perhaps condescendingly, if my musical tastes had finally outgrown the band.

Nevertheless, when rumors of their new record began to circulate, I found my interest was piqued once again. I waited with anticipation for the new music to arrive, just as I had in years past.

In spite of my misgivings, I dared to hope. Looking back now, perhaps I should have known better. Still, none of my past disappointments with Bono and co. prepared me for viewing the video below.

I'm not sure which is worse, a bloated and overproduced album or not having the chops to play your songs live anymore. I'll let you decide. One thing is for sure, no amount of studio trickery is going to allow this masquerade to go on much longer.

My apologies for the profanity in the title of the video. However, after listening I can't help but wonder if the video hasn't been named aptly.

The Angel Cried

A beautiful hymn sung once at the beginning of Lent, and then again on Holy Pascha and throughout the remainder of the bright season until Ascension (40 days). Here sung in old church Slavonic with the English translation.

The Angel cried to the Lady Full of Grace:
Rejoice, O Pure Virgin!
Again I say: Rejoice!
Your Son is risen from His three days in the tomb.
With Himself He has raised all the dead.
Rejoice, all ye people!
Shine, shine, O New Jerusalem,
The glory of the Lord has shone on you.
Exult now and be glad, O Zion,
Be radiant, O Pure Theotokos,
In the Resurrection of your Son!

Holy and Great Friday

"When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, 'Woman, behold your son!' Then He said to the disciple, 'Behold your mother!'"

We worship Thy Passion, O Christ!

File under: sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

While my beard is fairly non-descript, the flowing mullet-mane pictured to the left is most decidedly not. The wearer of this mullet seems to derive Sampson-like powers of Donkey Kong video game ability as well as supreme levels of arrogance and condescension. King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters is a documentary that chronicles the clash between twenty year Donkey Kong point champion Billy Mitchell (Mr. Mullet pictured to the left and according to Wikipedia, christened by Maxim magazine as "Dweebus Maximus Dorkus of both the 20th and 21st centuries") and challenger Steve Weibe. Weibe, "the nice guy," nevertheless ignores the poopy-pantsed pleas of his son for wiping aid during his record-breaking game attempt and weeps openly on camera when he is mistreated in a video game competition.

The documentary is fascinating and manages to evoke an intensity that belies its subject matter. Still, I found the rabid intensity of the adherents to this video game reality-world to be disconcerting, as wrapped up as they are into classic arcade video games. At times, watching the documentary was analogous to the morbid fascination that won't let you pull your eyes away from a train wreck. Nevertheless, as a study in sociology and my own past (at one time I was pretty heavy into video games sans mullet) King of Kong was well worthwhile.

On a slightly less serious note . . .

A few weeks ago, I was waiting at the bus stop downtown after work at about 9:30 PM. Unexpectedly, a man who I assumed to be homeless approached me and proclaimed in a loud voice, "Hey, you're the ultimate beard guy!" He then went on to share with me his own personal frustrations in the area of beard-growing while extolling the virtues of my "ultimate" beard.

I imagine that in this man's travels he has seen many an impressive beard. I am honored that he would bestow this title upon me, unless he was under the influence, in which case I would be less impressed.

Bowing Down Pt. 2

One of the enduring memories I have of my brief stay in Paris comes from a rather unexpected place. While walking in the city's underground Metro system, my wife and I came upon a beggar facing the bustling passersby on her knees. Being on one's knees seems like a natural position for a beggar and perhaps you have observed someone begging for alms on their knees before. As obvious as it may seem, I had not seen this before nor have I seen it since. As I passed by this woman (without stopping or offering any aid) I was struck by the look of sincere desperation on her face. I was left with the distinct impression that she considered herself very much dependent on the help of others for her continued survival. Without this help she would perish. She was begging for mercy.

I could contrast this experience with my observances of the homeless in America (in reality, I pay little mind to the homeless around me or perhaps view them with disdain), many of which are equally unfortunate.

On one occasion several years ago, I was harassed by a homeless woman who believed I was laughing at her when she asked me for money. Likely mentally ill, this woman proceeded to yell and curse at me while I crossed the street and continued this behavior until I was out of earshot more than a block away. More recently, a man who purported to be stranded on the side of the road in my neighborhood blatantly lied to me about his situation so that I would give him money (which I did).

I do not share these stories with the intention of lessening our compassion for the poor and oppressed. But these stories do remind me of the depths our fallen nature can take us to when stripped of our comforts and faced with an uncomfortable reality.

The circumstances of the homeless, whether in Paris or in Seattle, may seem quite different from our own. Indeed, as I type this post sitting in relative luxury, I am reminded of the many differences. Still, I wonder if the dissimilarity between my own circumstances and that of a homeless beggar simply provides a convenient opportunity for me to avoid a potentially jarring reality: that I too am not an autonomous individual, I am not a rock or an island, but I am very much dependent on others for my basic survival.

This dependency is not purely physical but also spiritual. If I have eyes to see and ears to hear, I am reminded of this reality daily. Both in my thoughts and in my actions I am self-centered and not selfless. I am sick and in need of healing.

How might I react to this realization of my dependency? Like a spoiled child, do I become angry and curse God or my fellow brothers and sisters?

I believe we are best served by choosing to emulate the beggar in Paris, who when confronted with a desperate situation, seemed to respond in humble acceptance. Realizing her need for healing deliverance -- for salvation --she responded by taking the best course of action possible: getting on her knees and begging for mercy.

This could be dumb

Apparently Neil Young has a new concept album coming out about electric cars. No one asked me but that seems pretty dumb.

Bowing Down

It's impossible for a man to exist without bowing down; such a man couldn't bear himself, and no man could. If he rejects God, he'll bow down to an idol - a wooden one, or a golden one, or a mental one. They're all idolaters, not godless, that's how they ought to be called. Well, but how could there not be godless people as well? There are such as are truly godless, only they're much more frightening than these others because they come with God's name on their lips.

-- Dostoevsky, The Adolescent

Despair masquerades around us in any number of forms, sometimes overtly, but most often bubbling subtly just below the surface of our lives. At the risk of making a rather extreme statement, it seems to me that any path that does not contain sustained repentance will ultimately lead to some form of despair. May God have mercy on us all.

Lars and the Real Girl

A description of the plot of Lars and the Real Girl will not do the film justice. Suffice it to say that Lars has a serious problem and the community in which he lives has an unexpected reaction to it. This reaction is portrayed in a manner that avoids condescension or naive sentimentality.

The criticism I have read of this film is that it is unrealistic; that if similar events as the film depicts were to unfold in "real life" the inevitable result would be drastically different. I believe that this criticism is accurate. However, in my mind this is not a failing of the film but its triumph. In fact, it may even be its point. We don't treat one another in the way Lars and the Real Girl depicts. But the film gives us pause to consider, what might happen if we did?

The Prayer of St. Ephraim of Syrian

O Lord and Master of my life!
Take from me the spirit of sloth, despair and lust of power and idle talk.
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience and love to Thy Servant.
Yea, O Lord and King! Grant me to see my own transgressions and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou unto ages of ages.

The Lenten prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian is based on the parable of the publican and the pharisee. The publican did not attempt to justify himself before God as did the Pharisee, but instead humbly cried, "God have mercy on me a sinner." This prayer is incorporated into many of the services of Great Lent and usually includes one or more full prostrations.

As we enter into Great Lent, please forgive me for how I may have offended you through my blog.

A vision of sin

In various posts I have attempted, with limited success, to articulate the notion that my sin effects and affects all of humanity, not only myself and those whom I directly sin against. Or, as Dostoevsky writes in the Brothers Karamazov, that I am "responsible for the sins of all men."

Rather than rehash a topic that is beyond my grasp, I'll instead point toward a recent post from Glory to God for All Things, Our Common Life, for further exploration if the subject is of interest.

Credit where credit is due

After the FFRF's shenanigans in recent months, it is refreshing to note differing perspectives within atheism. Musalaha finds the noteworthy article and discusses it here.

Full House of Metal

I feel that I should post this before Great Lent begins.

The Word magazine

We receive The Word magazine, the mostly monthly publication of the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese of North America. In the October issue, I found the article "Christians and Jews under Islam" to be fascinating.

Based on a paper delivered at a symposium at the Antiochian Village by Dr. Najib Saliba, the article describes in detail the history of the Middle East as one that has been marked by primarily peaceful, not violent interaction between the three Abrahamic religions: Islam, Judaism, and Christianity. In addition, these peaceful interactions came primarily during a near millenia of Islamic rule over Judaism and Christianity. Interesting, is it not? Saliba concludes:

I would like to emphasize that the treatment of the Christians and Jews by Muslim states, Arab or Ottoman, was far superior to the treatment Muslims and Jews received at the hands of Christian states, or Palestinians at the hands of the Jewish state of Israel.

One would need to read the entirety of Saliba's article to see the context and tone of the above quote. He seems to deal with this volatile subject in an even-handed manner that seeks to clarify and avoid generalizations and naivete.

My purpose here is to highlight an article that addresses what could be described as a willing ignorance on the part of western culture.

When finding oneself at the far end of the proverbial pendulum, it is easy to react in a manner that does not correct the problem but simply swings to the other side of said pendulum and in so doing, creates another set of problems. With his measured and informed stance, it is my opinion that Saliba's article brings us closer to the center (follow the magazine link to read the article, from October 2008, in its entirety).

I am not a cyber rock

The internet provides a temptation: avoiding relationships with other people. Certainly correspondence via the internet can have its value, but there is no replacement for simply being in the presence of another human being.

Blogs afford me another opportunity: to claim my throne as self-appointed dictator of my own kingdom, in which I am the ultimate expert in any and all subjects. I can yield my words like blunt instruments, for I am an expert, after all. As the author of my blog or even in the enemy territory of another blog, I can instantaneously shoot from the hip, squashing the opposing argument like a miserable bug. In such a scenario, little thought needs to be made to the damage I am inflicting upon myself and the other person with whom I correspond. I become the monster that I am attempting denounce. I know, because I've done it myself many times.

In addition, I can easily misread the intentions of another and jump to conclusions without seeking clarifications, further escalating a potentially tense situation. I know, because I've done it many times.

You may be asking, "why are you blogging about how lousy blogging is?" Indeed the internet has many limitations and pitfalls. Of course, all dialogue and communication is faced with limitations. Blogs and the internet do afford us the opportunity to be in contact with those whom we otherwise might no be able to because of distance. We also may be able to discuss issues that wouldn't otherwise be addressed in regular day to day activity.

In short, the internet and blogs can, when put in the proper place, enhance life. It can also easily distract and insulate me from life as well; I neglect my family and those with whom I can share my life with on a daily basis, or Church and prayer fall by the wayside.

There is no substitute for sitting in the presence of another human being. Words aren't even necessary.

Top 10 of 08 (the remaining 5)

Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Lie Down in the Light
When listening to Lie Down in the Light, it is easy to imagine oneself in a hootenanny amongst several musicians on the front porch of a house, having a grand 'ol time during a humid August evening in Georgia. Come to think of it, this is the closing scene of The Jerk, sans the ridiculous looking white man dancing amongst a family of black folks. Will Oldham adds his frail voice to like-minded artists who have gone before him such as Marvin Gaye, Bob Dylan, Jack White, U2 and Johnny Cash. Their art often seems to describe the feeling of being caught in the un-holy crossfire between the "sacred" and the "secular" and seemingly striving for the former. I've had to remind myself several time that some of the songs on this record are not from the hippy-dippy Enter the Worship Circle.

Lie Down In The Light - Bonnie "Prince" Billy

Calexico, Carried to Dust
After hearing the fabulous cover of "Goin' to Acupulco" by Calexico and Jim James in the film I'm Not There, I decided to pick up this record. Like a more distinct and less corporate Chevy's, Calexico bring a very unique brand of tex-mex to the world of rock n' roll. I'm guessing that several Calexico records have found their way into the collection of the members of Jars of Clay, as I was taken back by the similarities in sound between the groups, particularly the overlap between the styles of the lead vocalists.

Red Blooms - Calexico

Danielson, Trying Hartz
How lame is it to put a compilation album on your best of year-end list? Pretty. Still, the sounds and story of Danielson have grown on me considerably ever since viewing Danielson: A Family Movie last year. I'm happy to do what I can to spread the word for this band and apart from 2007's Ships, this is the best introduction to their work.

A Meeting With Your Maker - Da...

She & Him, Volume One
As nice as it may sound, I don't know if actress Zooey Deschanel's music has enough gusto to stand on its own. However, what about when combined with the talents of M Ward, who I consider to be one of the best singer-songwriters around today? Now I believe you have something. She & Him remind me somewhat of the relaxing and nostalgic sounds from the 50s and 60s that I used to tune into on KLXR AM 1230 with my alarm clock-radio in college.

Sentimental Heart - She & Him

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend
It is rare when a band faces the chronological obstacles of: a hyped record prior to its release, backlash following the release and then general appreciation for the same record, all in the same year. That is my observation of Vampire Weekend in 2008. Comparisons to the solo work of Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel and David Byrne abound. I prefer to say that if you can write a song about an oxford comma and turn it into a pop masterpiece, you are a better man than I.

Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend

A thought

Get over your bad self.

Theophany

Today we celebrate the feast of Theophany, also known as Epiphany in the west. Theophany commemorates the baptism of Christ and the revelation of the Trinity to all of humanity. This feast has been given a place of special importance in the Church, second only to Pascha (Easter). It has only been in recent times (the last several hundred years) that Theophany has been eclipsed by Nativity (and even more so its rampant commercialization).




When Thou wast baptized in the river Jordan O Lord, the worship of the Trinity was revealed. For the voice of the Father bore witness to Thee, when He called Thee His Beloved Son. And the Spirit in the form of a Dove, confirmed the truth of the word. O Christ our God, who hast appeared and hast enlightened the world Glory to Thee!

--Troparion of the Theophany

Top 10 of 08 (the first 5)

You can read the disclaimer to last years list if you wish. Or the year before.

Fleet Foxes, Sun Giant EP/Fleet Foxes
In Seattle, it is pretty hip to appear like a bum and/or homeless. In this regard, Fleet Foxes fit the bill. Seattle music was once equated with the grunge scene of the early to mid 90s. Fleet Foxes prove that this is no longer the case, blending Beach Boys harmonies with folks music that sounds like it was ripped off from the nearby Renaissance festival. I believe that I'll be listening to this record in ten years and that more than anything else is my ultimate litmus test.

He Doesn't Know Why - Fleet Fo...

Blitzen Trapper, Furr
Blitzen Trapper are buds with Fleet Foxes and they have a lot in common: the same label (Seattle's Sub Pop), both are from the Pacific NW (Portland, Or and Seattle), have similar folk influences and, you know, the whole beard/homeless look. Blitzen Trapper seem to draw upon The Band and 60s-era English folk for inspiration, reminiscent (to me) of The Kinks' Muswell Hillbillies. "Furr" and "Sleepytime in the Western World" are standout tracks.

Sleepytime in the Western Worl...

Bob Dylan, Tell Tale Signs: The Bootleg Series Vol. 8
The voice; the moustache; the man. Not technically an album of new material, Tell Tale Signs is comprised of outtakes, live songs and alternate versions over the last twenty years of Dylan's career. Twenty years is a long time, but the strength of the material is apparent in the way in which the alternate takes stand on their own as fully realized versions of songs that went on to make one of Dylan's records. The fact that these alternate versions and b-sides eventually hit the cutting room floor but might still well be the envy of many a performer speaks volumes. Disclaimer: Dylan's voice now sounds like pure, unadulterated crap. However, I've said it before and I'll say it again: if fits the mood and lyrics of his songs. This last statement was not intended as a pun on the previous one.

Huck's Tune (from Lucky You So...

My Morning Jacket, Evil Urges
Olivia describes My Morning Jacket's latest record as, "what happens when you try to sound like Prince but aren't Prince." I would have to agree with this assessment of two songs on Evil Urges, the title track and the completely cringe-inducing "Highly Suspicious." As awful as these songs are, I don't feel that they completely derail the the charisma of front man Jim James or the rest of the record, which for me plays like a mixtape of MMJ's influences. "Thank You Too!" recalls the Bee Gees, "Sec Walkin" has a Motown feel, "Two Halves" features Roy Orbison harmonies and "Aluminum Park" would fit nicely as a standout track on any of the band's previous albums. If you listen to this song and are not at least tempted to play air guitar, something may be wrong with you.

Aluminum Park - My Morning Jac...

David Byrne and Brian Eno, Everything that Happens will Happen Today
From the lush opening chords of the title track on David Byrne and Brian Eno's first collaboration in 25 years, I knew I would dig the tune. The rousing, anthemic outro did not disappoint. Other strong tracks include "Strange Overtones" "Life is Long" and "Wanted for Life." I have read that this tandem, which previously teamed up on the critically acclaimed My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, set out to make a "secular gospel" record with this collaboration. I can't speak to that, but in this collection of songs I do sense the emotions of joy and hope in the midst of difficulty. Lyrics from "One Fine Day" certainly fit that mold: then a peace of mind fell over me/in these trouble times/I still can see/we can use the stones to guide the way/it is not that long 'til one fine day. I too aspire to strive for good and perseverance in times of hardship. At the risk of oversimplification, I'm still left with questions for this lyric by the end of the record: why? how?

Everything That Happens - David Byrne and Brian Eno