favorite songs!

here is a list of my top five favorite songs of all time!

1. the johnson boys - david lindley

2. taper jean girl - kings of leon

3. power of the gospel - ben harper

4. john henry - jason skinner

5. maria - rage against the machine

now it's time to go to church!

An Installment?

i've been thinking about doing some fantasy writing for some time now. i'll post a draft or two of some sections of fantasy writing up here to see how it suits us all! and by us all of course i mean me.

the kids glanced up at the night sky from their place on the palace overlook. had they been looking for it, they would have seen the earth shrugging with the onset of cold, pulling the stars over its mountain-shoulders like a jacket, now drawing its heat from the fires set and being set by the thousands of cottages and fortresses and apartments in the valley below, sighing with the final breath of day and coming to terms with the dark. they could have seen the last gasp of triumphant dying blue in the western sky, martyring itself in protest against the collusion of blackness; or maybe the righteous indictment of the day's self-obsession, a judgment passed against the vanity of light, which has a greater need to be seen than it has to shed light on other things. the night lights flatter the earth with subtle, unselfish light, and the kids would have seen as much if they'd been looking.

but they weren't really looking. for them, at first anyway, the sunset was a whistle blown at the end of a day's work, and they glanced at the dying light with impersonal appreciation, the appreciation they'd give a cool breeze on a hot day. one by one, the kids finished their chores with varying degrees of thoroughness and tromped through the palace, boots loosened, until they met at their normal place on the overlook. the palace was a huge place, a city on the edge of a high mountain with ten thousand permanent citizens, not counting those who lived outside it and commuted in and out every day. half the palace was cut into the rock, so the other half, the half visible to the yawning valley and its thousands of residents below, jutted out of the mountain rock like a lamp on the side of a building. on one of the lower overlooks, a largely ignored, somewhat dirty open space with a good-not-great view of the valley, the kids gathered every evening after work to sit around and re-learn how to appreciate the night sky.

the first to arrive on the overlook was wesley, who worked in the foundry making pipes. his job was as mind-numbing as any of the others', but it allowed him to grab a bucket of the used rinsing water from the blast furnace, which was a perk. wesley was a clever young man and hadn't yet been caught stealing the runoff, which wasn't particularly valuable to the smiths except it was reusable in making beams. wesley arrived at the overlook, took off his boots, sighed and set the bucket down in the middle of a circle of logs and old ottomans that functioned as chairs. he grabbed some dry leaves and logs tucked away in the corner of the overlook and clicked his flints together to start a fire.

fifteen minutes later, agnes and jim arrived, visibly exhausted and relieved to see their friend. they hailed wesley and clapped his back as he sat, taking seats across from him and throwing strips of linen down next to the bucket, two years from the fire. agnes and jim were brother and sister and worked in the laundry, where they were able to tear strips out of the older and more tattered banners hung from the top overlook. linen in general was expensive in the country where the kids lived, especially in the palace, so the siblings' contribution was riskier than wesley's. they had to be especially careful not to get caught taking the linen strips.

rachel arrived just after the siblings, carrying a bundle of sweet-smelling herbs. she worked in the bakery, which a few times a week baked bread with an herb called "daturic." daturic was the riskiest of the ingredients to get, and by far the most important.

rachel took her seat next to the siblings and carefully unwrapped the bundle of herbs. tall wheat stalks and some other uninteresting cereals veiled a small canvas bag which, when opened, fully released the fragrance hinted at at her arrival. the bag contained a quarter of a pound of daturic, which was fairly rare and very tough to steal. it took rachel all day to gradually scrape the herb into the canvas bag and collect enough to distill in the bucket. she placed the bucket on the now-high fire and reclined. the kids discussed the day amongst themselves, exchanging some overused complaints that passed for conversation and constantly glancing at the bucket, until the metallic water bubbled.

at the sight of the boiling, wesley leapt from his seat and produced a coarse strainer. he dipped the strainer into the water several times and shook it, until the dark liquid separated into distinct parts. he removed the mercury-like liquid metal and tossed it disdainfully aside, onto a large pile of hardened metal in the corner. the water now had a thick sheen of dense white foam on its top. the kids carefully removed the bucket from the fire and set it on the ground adjacent. rachel sprinkled the entire quarter-pound bag of daturic onto the foam and used a small stick to stir it until the foam turned a light purple color. she waited a moment and then nodded at agnes, who took a large stirring wand and quickly mixed the foam with the hot water below. agnes then quickly dropped the wand and took a linen strip, as the other kids had done, and dipped it into the mixture. she took the strip out, allowed it to drip for a short while, and then rolled up her shirt sleeve and wrapped the linen around her upper bicep.

as the purple water dripped down their arms, the kids reclined and gazed at the final halo of twilight crowning the western mountains, recognizing for the first time that day the martyrdom of blue, or the just suffocation of day by night. they could do no other than look to the constellations and read the stories written there.

ok well there we go! that was about 1000 words, which was more than i thought i would write. it feels good to have written it, on reflection. now back to this incomplete UGH.

Back

DEAR DIARY (because i mean, what are we doing here), i'm back with another post. i think i want to take a year off (at least) from academics to do something real. i'm meeting with john jung-zimmerman tomorrow. he's the head of the upper room, which is the ministry of my church that i've been helping out with, to see if maybe i can work there next year. one thing i think would be cool is if i could live in the dorms with the residents, and thereby require a smaller salary than would otherwise be possible.

it would be at least a little bit cool to stay in south bend since it's close to the family. God willing, ben will be at ohio state for another year OR moved on to a suh-weet new job elsewhere. sarah will certainly have a job by then--hopefully in the midwest--and thomas will still be in toledo with mom and dad. that will be good.

anyway i think i could pitch it to the church councils or boards of directors or whatever that i'd only require a small stipend if i lived at the church and ate some meals at the soup kitchen. free rent/utilities means i'd save something like $300 per month ($3600 a year), plus some food would mean i'd be spending maybe $40-50 less per month on groceries (maybe $500 a year), so i could probably make due with a $5,000 per year stipend. what would i do? fundraising for the upper room and church in general; chores around the church; assisting in sunday services; seeing if we can't get a CSA (community supported agriculture) going in the madison street lot; doing social justice ministry; being full-time house manager for the upper room; growing the upper room and stone soup programs and connecting them with other resources in town; anything else the church requires.

barring that possibility, i think i will apply to the sojourners internship and other internships that look like that. intentional community really appeals to me and it's something that i like about the upper room. i will also look into other church work (especially UMC stuff), diaconate candidacy stuff, and maybe some phd programs at places like duke, claremont, garrett-evangelical, boston u, or drew (that's pretty much it for phd-granting UMC schools).

on this latter point my parents have been sort of a challenge. they mean well but my dad especially is concerned that my interest in doing something other than school amounts to quitting because it's hard. well i don't see it that way and it's hard to tell him that. i want to do something practical and real, and more than that i feel called to do it. i think in a lot of ways it's riskier than doing phd stuff, but whatever! i think it's God's will and i know God always sees me (us) through.

other scattered things i'd like to do, besides working in social justice / social service type work:

- publish a book of my funny haikus or something like that

- get involved in community supported agriculture and sustainability

- publish articles about Christian connections to the world or a popular blog on the same

- stuff like that

i dunno, it feels good to say all this. i have to work on an incomplete for david clairmont which isn't due until december but i need to get going on it because it's only a week and a half till school starts. JEEZ. well thanks for listening to me, diary, i will probably write more soon because i need to keep a diary because it makes me feel better. hopefully no one else is reading this self-indulgence... WHY AM I PUTTING THIS ON THE INTERNET

more haikus

here are some more of the haikus i've been writing instead of doing homework!

TEA PARTY

income tax must go

since i need more worthless crap

(i'm making a point)

GIVE IT TO ME STRAIGHT

girl i respect you

i just feel like we need some space

also i am gay

HAVE YOU HEARD THIS ONE

what's the difference

between a priest and a nun?

penis / vagina

YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG

i'd like to kiss you.

put your tongue out in the air

and i will bite it

PHILOSOPHIZIN'

smokin' on the weed

pimpin' some hoes and readin'

some husserl, bitch

PRIORITIES

make sure you floss, son

eventually you will die

but make time for floss

DUDE

dude what is the deal

with people whose teeth are white

don't they eat pop-tarts?

CONSTRICTED BY FORM

ramalama ding...

man! not enough space for the

whole thi-i-i-ing

BE HAPPY

rejoice! Jesus saves!

also there's a sale at kohl's

so, double rejoice

PREACHY

sure i'll have a coke!

also diabetes, please

(you've learned a lesson)

OBSERVANT

dude hands are so weird

also, as you may have guessed

i am stoned right now

TIME SAVER

let me check my skedj

(i abbreviate my words

to be more effish)

my favorite one is "be happy"

haikus

hey guys, i know i haven't posted anything in a while, so i will make up for that by posting a few haiku poems i wrote in class today:

STRESS POEM

i am so stressed out

there is no time for haikus

ok maybe one

OVERQUOTING

dude, where is my car?

i'm not quoting that movie;

i really must know

AGREEABLE CONVERSATION POEM

generally, yes

i'd say you're right on target

vis-a-vis boners

I DID IT ALL FOR THE NOOKIE

i have PhDs

in theology and ethics

so let me do you

META HUMOR

airline food- what gives?

it's unsatisfactory.

being laughing now.

DEEP

i'm sick of our fights

can't we go back to good times

when we were robots

thanks for tuning in again!

What If

What if, and just run with me on this, what if I didn't pursue a career in theology? I was thinking of this today (and this article shows the way in which my blog is also sometimes a diary) while making noises--which I am comfortable saying is my defining practice--and came to some conclusions.

I think that since I've left home I've realized how academia is in some ways static and possibly stale. There is no doubt that the life of an academic is a good life, and not necessarily without the proper measure of labor, and certainly not immoral, and definitely not contrary to a calling in service to the Lord. But it is often unfulfilling and pedantic. It makes you smarter (much smarter) but rarely wiser.

I idolized the old academic heroes like Kant, Barth, Chomsky, Niebuhr and so on. But really all they did was write a lot and make people think differently about very specific, very hemmed-in things. There is a disconnect between the practice of academics and the utility of their time. In my job as a waiter, there is no difference between the work I put in and the result of that work. This is not to say that everything we do ought to prioritize efficiency above all, or that we always must work for tangible outcomes. But we should always work in such a way that we expect the outcomes to really benefit other people in a recognizable way.

The good side of academia is that it trades in pedagogy, or teaching. I think that life is simply a process of God teaching us, which gives life all its charming mistakes and mischief along with its breathtaking beauty of redemption and turning to the good. Redemption is pedagogical, I think. And I admire a career in which teaching is central to your daily work.

Nevertheless I am tired of reading jargon and writing papers, and I've only been in grad school for a month. I see the exhausted and simple labor of my three-job coworkers at the pub and I admire it, though I don't desire it. I don't want to want to be a professor because it's easy. Shouldn't I want to do it because I think I'm supposed to do it? You might say no. I think that's what a "calling" is.

Simplicity, diligence, fruitfulness, affinity to vocation. These are the virtues of a good job. I need to find a career where I can live simply, work diligently, bear good fruit, and fulfill my vocation (that is, calling from God). It is very possible that that job is in the academy, but it's at least as possible that it's not.

I've been thinking a lot about owning my own business--but what sort of business would it be? A down-to-earth restaurant? I think that would be great. Maybe an Internet business with a good mission; here I think of emulating TOMS shoes, giving away a pair of shoes for every pair sold.

Maybe I could become a skilled laborer, like a carpenter or mechanic or something. But this is unlikely. I don't really have the skill set for that.

Something in the out-of-doors would be great. I'd love to be the career equivalent of a park ranger or something like that. But at the moment the job that most captures my attention is starting a business of my own. How American! How noble!

Well thanks for listening, I just felt like I needed to get all that stuff down.

The Diff

So after three weeks at Notre Dame, I have discovered the essential difference between Catholics and Protestants. Mediation is the difference.

Catholics believe in an incarnational, mediated form of worship and participation in God's creation and grace. God mediates his gifts and creation in the form of a beautiful church liturgy and the necessary sacraments. Since Christ was fully incarnated as a human being, there is a great deal of honor and dignity in the human body and in the createdness of human beings.

Protestants believe in a direct, unmediated form of worship and participation in God's creation and grace. God communicates with people plainly, in the form of the Bible and our own consciences. Since God is supremely powerful and loving, he chooses to give his grace to us in a way that is immediately helpful and sanctifying. The significance of Christ's once-and-for-all sacrifice and resurrection can be felt immediately, in the form of the Holy Spirit.

Anyway, that's an idea. There's a lot of overlap, to be sure.