Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Make sure you are on the right train

"If you board the wrong train," he said, "it is no use running along the corridor in the opposite direction."
This was Dietrich Bonhoeffer's comment to those who thought that he should join the "German Christians" (the National Socialists nationalized church) and work as a change agent from within.

When I read a historical account of the West, it makes me wonder what train I am on, and which direction we are headed in.

And I pray.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

From the movie I Remember Mama comes this quote:
"Mama, don't you want to be rich?"
 "I want to be rich like I would like to be 10 feet tall.  Its good for some things, bad for others."
That could go for a lot of things.

Monday, May 23, 2011

A "Letter of Note" from Mark Twain

Tuesday, 26 January 2010

You're an idiot of the 33rd degree

In November of 1905, an enraged Mark Twain sent this superb letter to J. H. Todd, a patent medicine salesman who had just attempted to sell bogus medicine to the author by way of a letter and leaflet delivered to his home. According to the literature Twain received (p1,p2,p3,p4), the 'medicine' in question - The Elixir of Life - could cure such ailments as meningitis (which had previously killed Twain's daughter in 1896) and diphtheria (which had also killed his 19-month-old son). Twain, himself of ill-health at the time and very recently widowed after his wife suffered heart failure, was understandably furious and dictated the following letter to his secretary, which he then signed.  





Transcript
Nov. 20. 1905

J. H. Todd 
1212 Webster St.
San Francisco, Cal.

Dear Sir,

Your letter is an insoluble puzzle to me. The handwriting is good and exhibits considerable character, and there are even traces of intelligence in what you say, yet the letter and the accompanying advertisements profess to be the work of the same hand. The person who wrote the advertisements is without doubt the most ignorant person now alive on the planet; also without doubt he is an idiot, an idiot of the 33rd degree, and scion of an ancestral procession of idiots stretching back to the Missing Link. It puzzles me to make out how the same hand could have constructed your letter and your advertisements. Puzzles fret me, puzzles annoy me, puzzles exasperate me; and always, for a moment, they arouse in me an unkind state of mind toward the person who has puzzled me. A few moments from now my resentment will have faded and passed and I shall probably even be praying for you; but while there is yet time I hasten to wish that you may take a dose of your own poison by mistake, and enter swiftly into the damnation which you and all other patent medicine assassins have so remorselessly earned and do so richly deserve.

Adieu, adieu, adieu!

Mark Twain

Citation:Twain, Mark. From www.lettersofnote.com. <http://www.lettersofnote.com/2010/01/youre-idiot-of-33rd-degree.html > Accessed 16 May 2011.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Suggestion

Go use the bathroom before watching this video, so that you don't wet yourself from laughing so hard.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Wisdom, or knowledge?

Ken Myers, in his book Signs of the Times, makes the following distinction between knowledge and wisdom.
"Literary critic Cleanth Brooks, in an essay on literature and technology, once obverved: "Secretly we may  hunger for wisdom, but our overt craving nowadays is, of course, for information." Later in this article, Brooks later made mention of the famous lines from T.S. Eliot which lament the loss of wisdom in the growing flood of public knowledge, and the loss even of knowledge in a deluge of sheer information.  Mere knowldege can easily be mistaken for wisdom, just as the accumulation of info-bits, factoids, and trivia can replace the pursuit of knowledge . 
Richard Weaver, a thinker committed to the recovery of the tradition of wisdom, wrote in 1948 that, "Having been told by the reeltivists that he cannot have truth, [modern man] now has 'facts'....the acquisition of unrelated details becomes an end in itself and takes the place of the true ideal of education." Weaver believed that our view of reality had become thoroughly fragmented; modern culture had forgotten (or rejects) the context of truth within which individual facts make sense.  Education itself has become an elaborate form of Trivial Pursuit for credit."
Citation: Myers, Ken. Signs of the Times: the Table Talk Columns. Mars Hill Monographs. 

Friday, May 20, 2011

My Brother, My Hero

      “Are you guys ready?” My dad mouthed the words through the pane of glass between us.

Gary and I looked at each other, and shrugged, and started delicately pounding on the bottom of the 4’x4’x1/4” glass window with the rubber butts of our Estwing hammers. Is it possible to “delicately pound”? We were trying.

My dad, my brother and I were working on a window replacement job. It was on the historic Ravenel house. Dad was outside standing on the top of an extension ladder, looking in the second floor window that we needed to remove. On either side of his ladder was another ladder. The plan was: Gary and I would ever so gently ease the window out of the casing by tapping on it with the butts of our hammers, which were handled with soft-ish rubber. Dad, balancing on the top of the ladder, would ease his fingers under the window as it edged out of the casing, and then Gary and I would run down the flight of stairs, out the door, and around the house, and sprint up the ladders on either side of Dad, and then all three of us would slide the window down the front face of the ladders to the ground. (To any OSHA official reading this: Just Kidding!)

This sounds like a ludicrous plan, perhaps, but we had already successfully executed it with about 6 other windows, so we were feeling pretty secure.

As Gary and I continued to tap gingerly along the base of the window, we heard a tiny brittle sound, and looked at the bottom edge of the glass. There was a miniscule crack in the glass. Gary and I looked at each other, and then glanced out at Dad, who was staring at the defect.

Hmmm…

Nothing more happened, so we collectively shrugged our shoulders, and Gary and I resumed our activity.

Tap…tap…taptap…tap…taptaptap…tap

Tap

Abruptly, 16 square feet of ¼” thick plate glass disassembled itself into exploding shards. As I fell backwards in shock and survival, I saw two snapshot pictures in front of me.

My dad, hammer in hand, reaching through the rain of glass, trying to hook the hammer claw over the window frame, and missing as he reeled backward, losing his balance at the top of the ladder.

My brother, wading into the killing glass that I had shied away from and grabbing my dad’s arm, pulling him back into balance just before he fell backwards to the ground.

And then silence, as the glass window that was, crunched under Gary’s feet.

And that day, my brother became a hero to me.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

My current morning ritual

I wake up in the morning, exercise, perform my ablutions, make coffee, and get ready for Gracie to wake up.  I lay out the coffee thermos, our coffee mugs, chocolate, and then when I hear my wife stirring, I open my office window, and start this music playing on my computer.  When Gracie walks into my office, the stage is set, and I pour her coffee and then we read, pray and talk, while the abnormally cool May morning air reminds us that while we will have to endure an Alabama summer, fall is coming.

This music is amazing to me.  Hope you enjoy it.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

In case you were wondering...



Citation: <http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTh0KNC82Q4ZT6b8jy1uN3FuRxt7TkX7PJc1zn9oi9hRbPJhcuThQ> Accessed 16 May 2011

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

One Amazing Volunteer

This tribute was written by Rob Rienow to his wife, Amy.


"This is a tribute to my wife Amy. In particular, I want to praise her for being such an amazing volunteer. It astounds me how she serves in so many different ministries. She is one of the most dedicated “Matthew 25” Christians I know. In that chapter of the Bible, Jesus calls his followers to show their love for Him, by their sacrificial love for others. Amy lives this vision in extraordinary ways.


She volunteers in a clothing ministry. Amy helps to purchase, organize, and provide clothes for people who don’t have the needed resources to do it on their own.

She also serves in a food ministry. She spends many hours each month shopping and preparing meals for others, and frequently delivers meals to those in need.

Amy has a great love for children. Because of this she provides a tutoring ministry. She often gives her time, even on weekends, to help children keep up with their school work.

Another area where she serves is with a transportation ministry. For those of us who have cars, and are able to get around on our own, it is easy to forget that there are many who don’t have their own transportation. Every weekend, Amy gives of her time and effort to help others get to church. Sometimes these people need rides during the week as well, and Amy is right there to offer her help.

While there are many other ways that Amy volunteers, a fifth one that I would like to mention here, takes a great deal of her heart and time. She volunteers each week with a medical ministry. Helping to care for the sick and hurting takes not only physical energy, but emotional energy as well. She bandages wounds, prays for them, and even runs errands to pick up needed medicines. Amy gives her heart and soul to others, at great personal cost to herself.

Perhaps you are wondering, “How does Amy have the time to serve in all these ministries?” She lives this missional, externally focused, Matthew 25 life, by being a mom. She clothes and feeds our children, who can’t do these things for themselves. She tutors and teaches our children every day. She provides needed transportation and medical care. The list could go on and on. My wife Amy is one amazing volunteer."

Citation: By Rob Rienow <www.VisionaryFam.com>. May 2011.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Why I need a full time gardener



Citation: <http://www.lifeinitaly.com/files/Italian-vegetable-garden.jpg> Accessed 11 May 2011.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

A couple things I probably need




Citation: Image from <http://www.goodtimesmotoring.com/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/Graham_paige_rototiller_B1-6.283171038_std.jpg> Accessed 11 May, 2011.

Neo-Latinisms

     Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni!
     (Beam me up, Scotty!)

     Dolores capitis non fero. Eos do.
     (I don’t get headaches. I give them.)

     Ex astris scientia
     (From the stars, science)- The motto of Starfleet Academy

     Promoveatur ut admoveatur.
     (Let him be promoted to get him out of the way.)

     Quiquid latine dictum sit altum viditur.
     (Whatever is said in Latin seems profound.)

     Si hoc legere scis, nimis eruditionis habes.
     (If you can read this, you are overeducated.)

     Si tu dixero, necesse erit ut tu interficiam.
     If I told you, I’d have to kill you.

     Vive diu prosperaque!
     (Live long and prosper!)

     Si vis amari, ama.
     (If you want to be loved, love.)

Citation: From my dad's "Miscellaneous File" attributed to Rebecca Rohan

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Modernities Suicide

This paragraph from Robert W. Jenson's essay, "How the World Lost Its Story" reminds me of G.K. Chesterton's comments on The Suicide of Thought in his book, Orthodoxy.

"The modern world, the world that instrumental and critical reason built, is falling about us.  Modernity, it now becomes evident, has been all along eroding its own foundations; its projects and comforts have depended on an inheritance to which it has itself been inimical...Analysts from all relevant disciplines converge on one insight: modernity has lived on a moral and intellectual capital that it has not renewed, and indeed could not have renewed without denying itself.  They moreover agree that this intellectual and moral capital was that built up by the Christian church's long establishment in the West, even if they themselves do no share the church's faith or even admire it."

Friday, May 13, 2011

My One Attempted Felony

I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I didn’t want to be killed either. 

Earlier that afternoon, I got off the school bus, walked down our driveway, and climbed up the back steps of our house, opening the door, and noticed that all the lights were off inside.

“Hello!  Mom?  Dad?  Where is everybody?  Gary?”  My voice echoed.

I dropped my book bag on the floor.  The floor creaked.  The air was chilled in the house. Apparently no one had been tending the fire. 

“Hello?”  A silent, darkening house was my answer as I flipped on the kitchen lights, and looked for a note.  There wasn’t one.

Quietly, I walked through the house, looking for signs that might have been left for me, but everything was normal.  Fleeting thoughts of the Rapture passed through my mind, but there were no empty clothing laying rumpled on the ground.

Outside, it was getting dark early.  Winter-time early.  I had just gotten home from school, but already it was dusky out.  I walked outside and called. 

“Dad!”  My shout only echoed off the hills across our pasture.

I looked toward the barn, but there were no lights on.  Only the bwauking of the hens and lowing of the cows.

I went back inside.

“Well”, I thought, “they must be getting home soon.  They would have left a note if they were going to be gone long.”

I fidgeted.  The windows got dark, and I waited.  We had no phone, so I couldn’t call anyone to try and find my family.  So I waited.  An hour passed.  Then another.  I tried to read, but fear and concern kept interrupting my thoughts.  What if something has happened to my parents and brother?  How could I find out.  I am just sitting here, doing nothing, and they might all be in the hospital.  Or dead.

I jumped up, and wandered around the house, turning all the lights on, then sat down to think. 

The quietness was broken by an indistinct sound outside.  The gravel at the end of our driveway crunched.  I jumped up, and ran toward the living room.  I knelt down beside the window that looked out toward the road, and slowly peaked through the curtain.

A car was sitting at the end of our driveway!

“Oh MAN, what do I do?”  I snuck away from the window, and ran toward my Dad’s closet.  I opened the door, and reached through his coats to the back corner until I felt the leather of his padded rifle sheath.  I reached in, and slid out the 22 gauge rifle.  I stood on tiptoe, reaching up, my fingers feeling along the top shelf until I found the box of ammunition.

My hands shook as I fingered the shells into the chamber, and locked the gun.  I hesitated, then slid the safety to the OFF position.

Bending at the wasted, I scurried toward the living room window, and slowly peeked out through the curtain again.  There, still, were the headlights of the car shining through the dark at the end of the driveway.

My breath was coming in gasps.  What do I do next?  I peaked again.  Still there.  Man!  I could feel my heart beating, and the blood rushing in my ears.

Then I heard the gravel crunch again.  Looking out I saw the car slowly turning into our driveway!

“Oh God.  Please help me!”

The car drove around our driveway and out of site of the living room window.

I crawled through the family room, and into the kitchen, lying on the floor under the window, when I heard the car stop right outside the window, just a few feet away.  The muffled sound of the car engine idled. 

I could not look out, because there were no curtains.  The kitchen light was on and it was dark outside so the murderer in the car would see me clearly if I peeked out the window.  They would probably get a shot off before I could aim my gun.  They were probably waiting for me to pop my head into sight to they could blow it off.

My heart was beating so hard.  I can not believe this is happening!  I had read so many adventure stories, but that was not the same as having killers sitting only feet away, and nobody at home.

I took a deep breath, tried to calm my shaking arms, and made my decision.  Fearfully standing up,  in full view of the criminals in the car outside,  I quickly lifted my dad’s 22 rifle to my shoulder, and sighted down the barrel ready to pull the trigger, but hoping I wouldn’t have to.  I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I didn’t want to be killed either. 

Outside the window, the tires of the car spun, throwing gravel as the car accelerated away from our house, and around our big circular driveway.  “Thank you God!” my breath coming in short, sobbing gasps as I ran through the house to watch the killers drive away. 

Peeking again through the living room window, I saw the car drive up the road toward the top of the driveway, and stop again, the gravel crunching, and my heart stopping.  “Oh Lord, they really are going to kill me!  Where are Mom and Dad?  Where is Gary?”

I heard the car door open, and saw the shadow of a man walk around the car from the passenger door, and Gary shouted, “David!  Put that gun down you retard!  I am going to tell Dad you pointed the gun at me!”

My brother has since forgiven me for being willing to shoot first and ask questions later, but I will never forget the relief I felt as I heard my brother threatening to kill me.

Citation: Me

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Why the library?

Over at Letters of Note a letter from E. B. White was posted, in which he expressed to the children of Troy, Michigan why the library is so wonderful.

E. B. WHITE
NORTH BROOKLIN, MAINE

April 14, 1971

Dear Children of Troy:

Your librarian has asked me to write, telling you what a library can mean to you.

A library is many things. It's a place to go, to get in out of the rain. It's a place to go if you want to sit and think. But particularly it is a place where books live, and where you can get in touch with other people, and other thoughts, through books. If you want to find out about something, the information is in the reference books---the dictionaries, the encyclopedias, the atlases. If you like to be told a story, the library is the place to go. Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together---just the two of you. A library is a good place to go when you feel unhappy, for there, in a book, you may find encouragement and comfort. A library is a good place to go when you feel bewildered or undecided, for there, in a book, you may have your question answered. Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people---people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.

(Signed, 'EB White')
Citation: White, E. B. From a letter he wrote.  
Posted at <http://www.lettersofnote.com/2011/05/library-is-many-things.html> Accessed 11 May, 2011.

Wow! The Howe Brothers are amazing

Monday, May 9, 2011

Seize the opportunity

We are now faced with the fact, my friends, that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history, there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked, and dejected with a lost opportunity. The tide in the affairs of men does not remain at flood—it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is adamant to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, “Too late.”

Citation: Martin Luther King, Jr. Beyond Vietnam – A Time to Break Silence New York City, April 4, 1967

Courtesy of: Pressfield, Steven (2011). Do the Work (Kindle Locations 911-918). The Domino Project. Kindle Edition. 

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Friendship Ecumenism

Friendship overcomes one of the greatest obstacles to truth in ecumenical conversation: unwillingness to understand the beliefs of others in meliorem partem, which should be taken to mean not just accurately, but empathetically, in the manner one would wish to be understood oneself, if one were that other.  This, of course, does not eliminate real and substantive disagreement, but will aid in assuring the disagreements are real and substantive.  It allows us to maintain the bond of truth-loving men, which we know shall lead us all to the same end, making error detachable for the sake of love.  One is happy to see his friend in the right, even to his own disadvantage, and abandonment of error is a small price to pay for the fellowship of those one loves.

The most frustrating  respondents we have run upon over the years in Mere Comments (Touchstone’s blog) are people for whom this clearly means nothing.  They persist in misconstruing what others have said, sometimes with considerable art, in the attempt to control an argument and humiliate their interlocutors.  But friendship kills the triumphalism impulse, awakening desire that the friend should, together with oneself, know and love the truth.

Citation: Hutchens, S.M. From the “Quodlibet” department in “Touchstone” magazine. March/April 2010. Page 5.

Friday, May 6, 2011

The Doghouse

Thoughts on coffee

Counter Culture Coffee is my favorite coffee roaster.  Located in Durham, NC, their coffee is phenomenal and their business model is inspiring.  They are one of the “big dogs” in the specialty coffee world.  Over at the Roasters Guild website, someone posted a question about storing coffee-best practices.  Here is the co-owner of CCC’s (Peter Giuliano) response:


1. The best way to store coffee is in parchment. Oh you mean roasted coffee! Yes, yes, dark, dry, room temperature, in a washable or disposable fairly airtight container. I always recommend that people keep the coffee in the package they bought it in, especially if it is a valve bag. I feel the more times you transfer coffee from bag to bag to container to container, you lose any CO2 flush the coffee has managed to build up.

2. Have you ever seen most people's refrigerators, or better yet smelled them? I feel that coffee does not belong next to last night's enchiladas. Plus there is no point, if the coffee is reasonably fresh. I do believe that freezing might inhibit oxidation if you wanted to store coffee for, say, months by tying up any residual moisture. But that is a pretty weak benefit if you ask me.

3. When people ask me how long coffee will remain fresh, I always ask what they mean by 'fresh'. I explain coffee will not make them ill no matter how old, unlike cheescake (I learned this lesson the hard way). I then compare coffee to bread. Bread will stay edible as long as it's not moldy, but it's way better on the first day you buy it than the fifth. Same with lettuce, donuts, tortilla chips, and apples.

Most people have two different categories in their mind: fresh food and staples. Fresh food is what you go to the grocery to buy a few times a week (meat, fruit, dairy), staples are always there in the pantry (flour, sugar, rice, canned tomatoes) which are good until they go bad. We have traditionally put coffee in the "staple" category whereas I believe it belongs in the "Fresh Food" category.

4. To me, he best coffee brewers are pourover: melitta and chemex. French presses are great. I am geekily attracted to the technivorm.

As for espresso machines at home, I have an opinion about that. Do you remember back when we were kids, Pac Man in the arcade was super cool- a wonderful experience. When it came out on Atari, it was totally disappointing. Now that technology is better, I have Pac Man on my PC at home, and the screen looks the same as it did in the Arcade in 1982. But it feels different, not as good. This is the way I feel about espresso.

I feel that espresso not just a cup of coffee, but a communal event. In Italy, people stop at a bar for an espresso, some conversation, the local news, some stamps, whatever. That sense is entirely lost making espresso in your kitchen. Plus, home equipment is just always inferior when it comes to pressure and temperature stability. Why the modern host feels like it is a cool thing to offer cappuccinos to their guests is beyond me, especially when there are a multitude of other coffee preparations more suited to the home kitchen that are equally spectacular.

Now then, a problem is that it is often difficult to find great espresso out in the world. This is its own problem, and the solution may not be for all the people who care to install espresso machines in their kitchen. It is our duty to put pressure on marginal coffeehouses to make great coffee, and patronize and reward the coffeehouses that do. Save the coffeehouse. Take the couple grand you would spend on a good home espresso machine, buy a moka pot for the Italian vibe (not espresso but a legit Italian experience nonetheless) and spend the rest at a local great coffeehouse getting great shots, or making noise every time you don't. By the way, I deeply respect those who are passionate about their home espresso machines, but those guys usually have their own opinion about what is the best espresso machine and are not asking me.

People tell me sometimes I am a pain in the ass. Sometimes I understand exactly what they are talking about.

Peter


Citation: Peter Giuliano Roasters Guild website thread reply, 9 June 2003.  <www.roastersguild.com>

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Alan Jacobs repost


Alan Jacobs has helped me tremendously as I have been thinking through how to respond to the changes that technology brings our way, which we must respond to one way or another.  Here is something he posted recently

"Life skills for the Technium

I have sometimes, in these pages of pixels, expressed frustration with Kevin Kelly, but his post on“Techno Life Skills” is just fantastic. My favorite point:

You will be newbie forever. Get good at the beginner mode, learning new programs, asking dumb questions, making stupid mistakes, soliciting help, and helping others with what you learn (the best way to learn yourself).

I’m going to give this to all my students for the foreseeable future."

Citation: Jacobs, Alan. Text Patterns blog on "The New Atlantis" website. 
<http://text-patterns.thenewatlantis.com/2011/04/life-skills-for-technium.html> Accessed 4 May, 2011.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Why the blog has been silent for a few days



It is interesting, being in the middle of an area that is hit by a natural disaster.  While we and our particular location was spared any direct damage, and only were effected by a power outage for several days (power is still off, but we have our generator working now) we were quite cut off because our power, landlines, internet and cell phones were all cut off or severely handicapped, so until a couple of days ago, we had no idea how widespread and devastating the damage was.  Our television and internet news were cut off, so our understanding of what had happened was mainly extrapolating what was being said by the local weather man when the power was cut off.  Then for several days our time was mostly taken up with trying to figure out how and what to cook, working on our generator to (finally) get it working after 3 or 4 days, and moving food from fridge to freezer to our neighbors freezer to try and keep the food.

Then, the news started to shape up for us as we listened to the radio, and the magnitude of the damage became clearer, the loss of life climbed higher and higher and finally, yesterday getting online and Googling to see what was happening in the cities surrounding us, watching video footage of the Tuscaloosa tornado...pretty sobering, especially in light of the fact that I have been having a blast figuring out how to "make do" with what facilities we still have.

Those of you that know me at all, know that I long to figure out how to cultivate community as a way of living that regards highly the kinds of creatures we were created to be.  I have found that having the power out is an excellent way to establish community.  I would say there was at least a 20% increase in "natural" relating with our family and neighbors as we pooled resources and gathered to discuss what was happening, as well as several community-based meals as we figured out how to use the food that was defrosting in the community freezers.