11/15/2003
how are babies made?
Today, we're off to The Cabbage Patch Kids Cabbage Patch in Cleveland, GA. Then maybe up to Helen, nine more miles to the north.
11/14/2003
oh...i forgot...how stupid of me
An addendum to stupid things done...
...I voted for Clinton in '92.
Before you hang me out to dry...go over to Tony's and read his list. It was good for a smile.
...I voted for Clinton in '92.
Before you hang me out to dry...go over to Tony's and read his list. It was good for a smile.
scahhed for life
Due to the influence of a Austrian body-building womanizing political in my conscientious life for the past twenty-plus years, there are certain words in my vocabularly that will be forevered altered as received by my brain's inner ear. Some of those words include:
- Cahleefoneeya
- Ahnode
- Tuhminatohr
- Guhvuhnohr
- Kindeegahtun Pohlice Offeesah
- Gray Davis
- Eenahprohpreeaht Grohpeeng
- Meehlyunehr
- Bach (as in 'ahl bee bach')
- Keeahnoo Reeves
- Hohticohchure
- Fischul Consuhvahtive
- Soshul Moduhrut
making wild at heart look like mr. rogers' bed time stories
This guy must have a father wound the size of Oklahoma. But if a man ever needed to get in touch with his primitive self, this would be the place to do it.
who needs a nap?
Scientists thought they'd be able to answer a simple question long ago, but are still stymied to this day on why the human body is so confoundedly reliant on sleep.
I'm no scientist, though I did admire Bruce Banner in the 70s. I can tell you that humans need sleep because our bodies are terminal. Once we were evicted from Shady Acres of Perpetual Rest, we had to go to work. We had to go to work so we could die. We have to die so we can re-enter rest. We can only re-enter rest if we've been reconciled back to the Father through the Son. Until then, you and I will be bound to these ineffecient, quickly-draining life batteries called bodies that need daily (and sometimes even more frequent) recharging.
Try to think of sleep as a blessing -- its the gift that lets you bring each day to a close where it can be left in the past. It allows you to awaken to a new dawn of potential and possibility. And through faith in the Christ, with each session's conclusion of slumber, you are ever closer to returning to the one who made you.
So close your eyes...and take a rest.
It's a gift from God.*
*unless, of course, you're at work. So stay awake until you can take a nap and not get fired.
I'm no scientist, though I did admire Bruce Banner in the 70s. I can tell you that humans need sleep because our bodies are terminal. Once we were evicted from Shady Acres of Perpetual Rest, we had to go to work. We had to go to work so we could die. We have to die so we can re-enter rest. We can only re-enter rest if we've been reconciled back to the Father through the Son. Until then, you and I will be bound to these ineffecient, quickly-draining life batteries called bodies that need daily (and sometimes even more frequent) recharging.
Try to think of sleep as a blessing -- its the gift that lets you bring each day to a close where it can be left in the past. It allows you to awaken to a new dawn of potential and possibility. And through faith in the Christ, with each session's conclusion of slumber, you are ever closer to returning to the one who made you.
So close your eyes...and take a rest.
It's a gift from God.*
*unless, of course, you're at work. So stay awake until you can take a nap and not get fired.
don't know much
I got a 106 on the digital iq test.
Christopher got a 140.
I was hampered by not being wireless or PDA-able. I kissed my wife at the mall, but apparently it's a different type of PDA the quiz was referencing.
Christopher got a 140.
I was hampered by not being wireless or PDA-able. I kissed my wife at the mall, but apparently it's a different type of PDA the quiz was referencing.
doing it for the vitamin c
this may be a TMI statement...but right now, I'm eating the most flavorless orange ever created. I might as well be trying to suck the protein out of wad of mulch, for all the essence of citrus I've been able to compress from this one.
Ahaaaaaaa...I see the problem...it comes from Florida's Worst Farms. Are orange wedges supposed to be gray?
At least I won't get scurvy.
Ahaaaaaaa...I see the problem...it comes from Florida's Worst Farms. Are orange wedges supposed to be gray?
At least I won't get scurvy.
maybe when the sequel comes out
I took the movie dork test linked at Jen's page. I wrote about my score. I lost my entry.
I'm not doing any of it again. Let's just say that Jen & Jared both are bigger movie nerds than am I.
I'm not doing any of it again. Let's just say that Jen & Jared both are bigger movie nerds than am I.
aging hilarity
from my sister in law:
- Have you been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking...surely I cannot look that old? You may enjoy this short story....
While waiting for my first appointment in the reception room of a new dentist, I noticed his certificate, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered that a tall, handsome boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 30 years ago. Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate.
After he had examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended the local high school.
"Yes," he replied.
"When did you graduate?" I asked.
He answered, "In 1971. Why?"
"You were in my class!" I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely and then asked, "What did you teach?"
pandora's box
Kyle asks the dangerous question, "What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?"
I have to commend him, his stupidity was really pretty impressive.
My list is long and sundry. And then, of course, there's the whole "ha ha funny" stupid list and the "what in the world were you thinking you should praise God for grace and mercy" stupid list.
My list of stupid includes:
Mind you, this list is not exhaustive...it is merely the taproot to a whole tree of stupid that I tried to climb, only to discover that I was too big for its upmost branches, and ended up falling off, and then having it topple over, nearly crushing me in the process.
I implore you, from what I have learned, glean and benefit.
I have to commend him, his stupidity was really pretty impressive.
My list is long and sundry. And then, of course, there's the whole "ha ha funny" stupid list and the "what in the world were you thinking you should praise God for grace and mercy" stupid list.
My list of stupid includes:
- Jumping from the 40 foot train bridge into 8 foot-deep river water as coal train approaches.
- Hiding from the police for breaking curfew by leaning against a brick wall and hoping they wouldn't see me. They did
- Telling my cousin that cats always land on their feet, then gently lofting my cat into the air to prove the point. Impressed, he picked up Mr. Whiskers and spiked him back to the earth to test the theory himself. Mr. Whiskers disproved the theory.
- Convincing a friend to call a 1-900 number on the school telephone (back in the late 80s), that he'd never get caught. He left the phone off the hook, accruing a several hundred dollar phone bill. And he got caught.
- Swiping Halloween candy from a little kid when I was in 7th grade. The little kid went and told his dad, and dad found me and my buddies about an hour later, and convinced us that our chocolate-filled tummies were about to be ripped out in vengeance.
- picking four fights in one night in college
- Assuming that my church congregation universally respected my seminary degree and was eager to receive and follow the leadership provided by an innovative young man called by God to challenge and grow the flock.
- Determining that if I handle a conflict biblically, then both sides will recognize God's blessing and respond accordingly.
- Thinking that challenges in life will certainly get easier because previous tests seemed to be so monumental.
Mind you, this list is not exhaustive...it is merely the taproot to a whole tree of stupid that I tried to climb, only to discover that I was too big for its upmost branches, and ended up falling off, and then having it topple over, nearly crushing me in the process.
I implore you, from what I have learned, glean and benefit.
#7 on your roster, #1 in your heart
Resurrectionsong, a most-appreciated Bronco fan, alerts me to the news release announcing John Elway's nomination to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.
He and Barry Sanders will likely be first-time nominees who make the grade.
Randy Gradishar and Gary Zimmerman, also former Broncos, are nominated. Both should be in, but may have to wait a year. I can envision a scenario where voters would want Elway to be the only Bronco, so as to give him more publicity. I think the only person Elway wouldn't want to share the podium with would be Lester Hayes, the sticky-tack-wearing, shir-pulling,cheap-shotting, cheaterhead who cheated for the Oakland and Los Angeles Cheaters for cheatteen years.
I also see that George Young is nominated.
I already thought he's been voted in like thirteen times previously. Maybe its just an annual ritual
And even though the name says Carl Eller, Defensive End for the Vikings and Seahawks, I now know what Samuel L. Jackson did before making it big on Pulp Fiction and becoming my son's hero as Mace Windu in Star Wars:
He and Barry Sanders will likely be first-time nominees who make the grade.
Randy Gradishar and Gary Zimmerman, also former Broncos, are nominated. Both should be in, but may have to wait a year. I can envision a scenario where voters would want Elway to be the only Bronco, so as to give him more publicity. I think the only person Elway wouldn't want to share the podium with would be Lester Hayes, the sticky-tack-wearing, shir-pulling,cheap-shotting, cheaterhead who cheated for the Oakland and Los Angeles Cheaters for cheatteen years.
I also see that George Young is nominated.
I already thought he's been voted in like thirteen times previously. Maybe its just an annual ritual
And even though the name says Carl Eller, Defensive End for the Vikings and Seahawks, I now know what Samuel L. Jackson did before making it big on Pulp Fiction and becoming my son's hero as Mace Windu in Star Wars:
they'll be coming down the mountain when they come
Kelli's folks arrive tonight!
Their impending arrival at Hartfield-Jackson International Airport this evening also inaugurates my mini-vacation #1.
It's going to be a very good four-day weekend.
Their impending arrival at Hartfield-Jackson International Airport this evening also inaugurates my mini-vacation #1.
It's going to be a very good four-day weekend.
11/13/2003
a grass roots movement?
I don't mean to take anything out of context, but it appears there is a ground swell of support for seeing my thoughts and opinions put into action.
somebody out there is wondering about me running for president. I was the first hit on the page, in case you didn't notice.
Alas, I'm too young until 2008. But by then, I could be in prime position to take Hillary down a notch or two.
somebody out there is wondering about me running for president. I was the first hit on the page, in case you didn't notice.
Alas, I'm too young until 2008. But by then, I could be in prime position to take Hillary down a notch or two.
disappointing
Mike Anderson, thoroughbred backup for the Broncos, has been busted for tokin' on the wacky tabacky.
He claims he's a second hand victim, but it's going to cost him one fourth of the season nonetheless.
Dude, you'd think by now he'd understand that when it comes to drugs and alcohol, just say no.
And that's one to grow on.
He claims he's a second hand victim, but it's going to cost him one fourth of the season nonetheless.
Dude, you'd think by now he'd understand that when it comes to drugs and alcohol, just say no.
And that's one to grow on.
sung to the tune of if I only had a brain
King of Fools shares some quotes of our pseudo-intellectual traitors celebrity citizens, whining of the inferiority of Americans.
Once again, I'm an ardent advocate of their joining the enlightened masses abroad and leaving this oversized landbridge between Canada & Mexico to us dumb people. Once we run it into the ground, they're free to come reclaim it. Until then, they can stay on the Atlantic's right coast and laugh in smug superiority, since they seem to think I'm unaware of what occurs on the other side of our world's two biggest lakes.
Once again, I'm an ardent advocate of their joining the enlightened masses abroad and leaving this oversized landbridge between Canada & Mexico to us dumb people. Once we run it into the ground, they're free to come reclaim it. Until then, they can stay on the Atlantic's right coast and laugh in smug superiority, since they seem to think I'm unaware of what occurs on the other side of our world's two biggest lakes.
matrix: renamed
Last night, just before we drifted asleep, I told my lovely bride of my Matrix name.
Kelli: whu?
Me: "Retro. My 'Matrix' name is 'Retro."
Kelli: Honey, your real 'Matrix' name isn't 'Retro,' its 'Dorkius.'"
Feel the love.
Kelli: whu?
Me: "Retro. My 'Matrix' name is 'Retro."
Kelli: Honey, your real 'Matrix' name isn't 'Retro,' its 'Dorkius.'"
Feel the love.
genetics: the gift that keeps on giving
My oldest daughter is joining the world of the bespectacled.
We knew it was inevitable. She's got two parents and four grandparents who are all glasses or contacts wearers. She didn't stand a chance.
Today, she was diagnosed with astigmatism. That's when she manifests the signs of the Passion, right?
She's been showing symptoms for probably a year now, and I take responsibility for just thinking she was developing lazy habits. She'd lower her head and look upward to view straight in front of her. She did this when watching TV or playing on the computer (I originally typed "working on the computer," but that didn't look right, no matter how my head was tilted). So I'm pretty much feeling like Dad Of The Year right now for waiting so long on that.
To her credit, Kaylyn is excited about wearing glasses. She'll be the first in her class to have a pair.
Let's see if she feels the same way in a couple years when she gets fitted for braces*
*for crooked teeth, as compared to for her legs or back.
We knew it was inevitable. She's got two parents and four grandparents who are all glasses or contacts wearers. She didn't stand a chance.
Today, she was diagnosed with astigmatism. That's when she manifests the signs of the Passion, right?
She's been showing symptoms for probably a year now, and I take responsibility for just thinking she was developing lazy habits. She'd lower her head and look upward to view straight in front of her. She did this when watching TV or playing on the computer (I originally typed "working on the computer," but that didn't look right, no matter how my head was tilted). So I'm pretty much feeling like Dad Of The Year right now for waiting so long on that.
To her credit, Kaylyn is excited about wearing glasses. She'll be the first in her class to have a pair.
Let's see if she feels the same way in a couple years when she gets fitted for braces*
*for crooked teeth, as compared to for her legs or back.
photo has been updated
Scroll down to my previous post on getting my picture taken yesterday. They've updated it already at the NAMB webpage, so you can see what a difference a tie makes.
The only problem is that it's a little washed out. The tie is actually a very bright blue, but looks gray.
The only problem is that it's a little washed out. The tie is actually a very bright blue, but looks gray.
11/12/2003
no disrespect intended
But I enjoyed tremendously looking at these illustrations.
example:
The idea, much like the Jesus sports figurines, which I also love to a kitschy extreme, is to convey that Jesus is fully interactive in the lives of those who follow Him.
Despite some fine drawing, which I could never hope to match, Jesus comes off a little bit like a voyeur in some of these. In the one for the student, he reminds me of the guy who always annoyed me horribly because every day as I ate breakfast in the fraternity house kitchen, he would read the paper over my shoulder. In fact, that guy looks an awful lot like the Messiah in these drawings. Eerie.
Also amongst my favorites are dental assistant and golfer.
I hope the dear saint who is the artist finds success with this endeavor, and ministers to those who are blessed by the reminder that for those who belong to God by faith in Jesus of Nazareth, He is indeed closer than a brother, and He will never leave you nor forsake you.
example:
The idea, much like the Jesus sports figurines, which I also love to a kitschy extreme, is to convey that Jesus is fully interactive in the lives of those who follow Him.
Despite some fine drawing, which I could never hope to match, Jesus comes off a little bit like a voyeur in some of these. In the one for the student, he reminds me of the guy who always annoyed me horribly because every day as I ate breakfast in the fraternity house kitchen, he would read the paper over my shoulder. In fact, that guy looks an awful lot like the Messiah in these drawings. Eerie.
Also amongst my favorites are dental assistant and golfer.
I hope the dear saint who is the artist finds success with this endeavor, and ministers to those who are blessed by the reminder that for those who belong to God by faith in Jesus of Nazareth, He is indeed closer than a brother, and He will never leave you nor forsake you.
tie-ing one on
Today, I will be getting a new portrait for the official NAMB directory, at the behest of boss2. My previous picture, which was not taken for directorial purposes (but for magazine purposes), was one of me sans necktie. I'm the only person in adult mission ed not wearing a tie for the portrait, so I look a bit like the liberal rebel (although that's not really possible given our conservative environment, and that I'm probably more -- or at least as -- conservative than just about anyone in here).
So I come in, wearing my tie, and my secretary asks..."are you wearing the same shirt as you did that day?"*
"I have no idea."
So, walking over to the portraits on the wall (which are there in case we ever forget the identity of our co-workers, I suppose), I discover that not only am I wearing the same shirt, but also that I brought the same sport coat for the photo.
So the only difference will be that in this photo, I'll be wearing a tie. And hopefully, my head won't appear as being so unnaturally oblong. Apparelently, I have a very limited perception of what is fashionably favorable. I could have saved time and money if I had just come to work today with a a Sharpie instead of a necktie and penned the neckware into my portrait.
*this was the second humbling statement Gail offered today, after less than an hour earlier tapping me on the shoulder to get my attention, then giving the oh-so-subtle, thrice-pull-and-twice-wipe on the nose gesture, telling me that I had a convict booger climbing down a nosehair rope from Cell Block Left of Nasal Prison Central.
So I come in, wearing my tie, and my secretary asks..."are you wearing the same shirt as you did that day?"*
"I have no idea."
So, walking over to the portraits on the wall (which are there in case we ever forget the identity of our co-workers, I suppose), I discover that not only am I wearing the same shirt, but also that I brought the same sport coat for the photo.
So the only difference will be that in this photo, I'll be wearing a tie. And hopefully, my head won't appear as being so unnaturally oblong. Apparelently, I have a very limited perception of what is fashionably favorable. I could have saved time and money if I had just come to work today with a a Sharpie instead of a necktie and penned the neckware into my portrait.
*this was the second humbling statement Gail offered today, after less than an hour earlier tapping me on the shoulder to get my attention, then giving the oh-so-subtle, thrice-pull-and-twice-wipe on the nose gesture, telling me that I had a convict booger climbing down a nosehair rope from Cell Block Left of Nasal Prison Central.
broglet update
Brogblog's boy Jacob endured a day of poking, prodding, philming to arrive and a diagnosis of pneumonia.
thanks for your ongoing prayers for the little guy.
thanks for your ongoing prayers for the little guy.
added to the blogroll
Not because of a nice compliment given (though it was what made me aware of the site), but because the King of Fools site is solid, crisp, and well-written. I look forward to getting familiar with the king's content.
11/11/2003
and before i sign off
I want to thank the following people in my family who have served and sacrificed for our country, so that I can enjoy the quality of life that I do free from harm or worry:
My deep and sincere appreciation, for myself and on behalf of my wife and children for all of you who have answered the call of duty and have honorably represented our country in one of our fine military branches. While no small statement of gratitude can adequately express my sentiment, nor measure the breadth of my respect for you, I this day and every day thank God for you and ask for His hands to rest protectively upon you.
My dad, James L. McAnally III
My uncle, Robert E. Horgas
My grandfather, James L. McAnally, Jr.
My grandfather, George Horgas
My grandmother, Anna Horgas
My deep and sincere appreciation, for myself and on behalf of my wife and children for all of you who have answered the call of duty and have honorably represented our country in one of our fine military branches. While no small statement of gratitude can adequately express my sentiment, nor measure the breadth of my respect for you, I this day and every day thank God for you and ask for His hands to rest protectively upon you.
sure you've played the board game
and you maybe have explored all the mods of the sims...
...but have you played fully interactive version of the game of life?
The reviewer's online poll suggests the game is not as popular as one would expect, given the number of participants:
In most games, much of the adventure is getting to the end. However, in this particular one, it seems like most people are pursuing a strategy to stay in the game as long as possible, in a futile attempt to avoid seeing the final score. I was recently looking in the game's Player Manual, and I found a couple "cheats" to ensure victory:
Cheat 1
Cheat 2
Cheat 3
I give this game a 10 and I look forward to playing it every day to see what the Designer created for me to discover. I particularly like the group play and the family modules. No doubt, the levels have grown increasingly difficult, and I rely on the Players Manual more and more. I found that the quality of play only increases, though, because it offers so much insight to the gameplay that I otherwise would miss altogether. Let me know your reviews, and I look forward to meeting you on the multiplayer options!
...but have you played fully interactive version of the game of life?
The reviewer's online poll suggests the game is not as popular as one would expect, given the number of participants:
In most games, much of the adventure is getting to the end. However, in this particular one, it seems like most people are pursuing a strategy to stay in the game as long as possible, in a futile attempt to avoid seeing the final score. I was recently looking in the game's Player Manual, and I found a couple "cheats" to ensure victory:
Cheat 1
Cheat 2
Cheat 3
I give this game a 10 and I look forward to playing it every day to see what the Designer created for me to discover. I particularly like the group play and the family modules. No doubt, the levels have grown increasingly difficult, and I rely on the Players Manual more and more. I found that the quality of play only increases, though, because it offers so much insight to the gameplay that I otherwise would miss altogether. Let me know your reviews, and I look forward to meeting you on the multiplayer options!
from what heights
have the Mighty Buffalo fallen.
hoping for six-and-six to get to play in the Fred McGillicuddy's Back Yard Two-Hand-Touch-Above-The-Waist On Thanksgiving Afternoon Before The NFL Games Start Bowl Sponsored by Lady's Secret Deodorant.
And yet, I believe it to be possible.
And if it happens, I'll be watching.
hoping for six-and-six to get to play in the Fred McGillicuddy's Back Yard Two-Hand-Touch-Above-The-Waist On Thanksgiving Afternoon Before The NFL Games Start Bowl Sponsored by Lady's Secret Deodorant.
And yet, I believe it to be possible.
And if it happens, I'll be watching.
e-humble pie
Are you feeling big for your britches?
Go and see what others have accomplished at your same age, while you've been plodding along, wasting your time reading blogs and dreaming ambitious dreams.
Go and see what others have accomplished at your same age, while you've been plodding along, wasting your time reading blogs and dreaming ambitious dreams.
this is a political/medical jargonic synonym for "death rattle"
Senator and Veteran Robert John F. Kennedy Kerry has fired his campaign manager.
It is now clear that it is the manager's fault that countless people have been offended and off-put by his elitism, his pandering, his flip-flopping, and and near-treasonous speech in regard to American policy.
Only in politics can you stretch your fifteen minutes into decades.
It is now clear that it is the manager's fault that countless people have been offended and off-put by his elitism, his pandering, his flip-flopping, and and near-treasonous speech in regard to American policy.
Only in politics can you stretch your fifteen minutes into decades.
the most dangerous branch
Another legislating judge, this one from New York, has blocked the implementation of the ban against partial birth abortions. This time, the ban is nation-wide, but only for the plaintiffs. The catch is, the plaintiffs are an organization of independent abortionists who kill approximately half the preborn each year.
Anything to keep the blood money rolling in.
Anything to keep the blood money rolling in.
the next attack site?
from common sense and wonder, who in turn got this from lgf:
Do Muslim extremists intend to attack their own holy site today to incite the masses toward jihad? Fairly compelling evidence suggests just such a strategery.
Do Muslim extremists intend to attack their own holy site today to incite the masses toward jihad? Fairly compelling evidence suggests just such a strategery.
boy humor alert
Mr. Nicehands.
I'm sorry.
UPDATE: Concerned readers alerted me that this site allowed pop-ups to inappropriate sites. Obviously, I wouldn't have linked to it and reference my four year old son if I had been aware of such a connection (I have a pop-up stopper on my website). I have de-linked the link, and will be more circumspect in the future.
11/10/2003
another link for me
At some point, I'll go see Revolutions. This timeline, compiled by smeone with way too much time on their hands, is yet another tool to help me understand what's going on.
i cannot tell a lie
Thanks to brain fertilizer.
I like the acknowledgment of being one who keeps his word. Being labeled as "uncreative" is a tiny dagger in my heart, though.
wanna get high?
If you are an early - to - mid career Christian, you should do everything in your ability to attend one of the two nationwide elevate conferences. In Dallas in January. In Charlotte in February. Phenomenal speakers. Phenomenal music. Phenomenal messages. Phenomenal opportunities to respond to the call to change your world as a marketplace minister.
If you can't afford it, see if your church will scholarship you. See if your association has any funds available. Go as a group. This is going to be top-notch!
Answer the call.
Tell His story.
Change your world.
If you can't afford it, see if your church will scholarship you. See if your association has any funds available. Go as a group. This is going to be top-notch!
Answer the call.
Tell His story.
Change your world.
where the three r's are ralphie, riots, and runnin' from campus security
My alma mater is the number one party school in the country.
By the time I was a student there, I was moving out of that stage of life, and I was a full-time student at the Denver campus, so I was not exposed to the fullness that was CU debauchery.
As a student at the U. of Denver, some guys from my fraternity (and I) went up to Boulder for a Sigma Chi party once. We thought we were pretty wild until we mixed with those dudes. When they entered altered states of consciousness they got plum crazy, setting things on fire, running around like they didn't have any good sense.
It wasn't long after that experience, we learned they had been put on probation, which is like the UN placing a sanction on Iraq.
Momma, don't let your babies grow up to be Buffaloes.
By the time I was a student there, I was moving out of that stage of life, and I was a full-time student at the Denver campus, so I was not exposed to the fullness that was CU debauchery.
As a student at the U. of Denver, some guys from my fraternity (and I) went up to Boulder for a Sigma Chi party once. We thought we were pretty wild until we mixed with those dudes. When they entered altered states of consciousness they got plum crazy, setting things on fire, running around like they didn't have any good sense.
It wasn't long after that experience, we learned they had been put on probation, which is like the UN placing a sanction on Iraq.
Momma, don't let your babies grow up to be Buffaloes.
11/09/2003
the measure of a man
On the heels of so much being discussed of Wild At Heart, I was immediately interested in the essay by Sgt. Stryker, in praise of mediocrity.
Please be aware that the essay to which Stryker responds (and is linked to in his own site) is vulgarity-filled. I reference the two essays here because I believe that a parallel tension exists in men's ministry (in defining "what makes a man a man") and that Stryker's comments provide interesting statements regarding the role of Promise Keepers in the evolution of the modern perception of man.
In our work, we have seen men seeking the heart of this answer. It shapes the very expression of men's ministry, and will for the time to come. Men are seeking their true identity, for permission to pursue it, and for validation once they have captured it. The ongoing prayer behind our efforts is that we will lead men to discover what God has revealed about what it means not only to be a man, but to be a man of God, and that men would not exchange God's revelation for a cheaper, less meaningful expression of the masculine identity.
Please be aware that the essay to which Stryker responds (and is linked to in his own site) is vulgarity-filled. I reference the two essays here because I believe that a parallel tension exists in men's ministry (in defining "what makes a man a man") and that Stryker's comments provide interesting statements regarding the role of Promise Keepers in the evolution of the modern perception of man.
In our work, we have seen men seeking the heart of this answer. It shapes the very expression of men's ministry, and will for the time to come. Men are seeking their true identity, for permission to pursue it, and for validation once they have captured it. The ongoing prayer behind our efforts is that we will lead men to discover what God has revealed about what it means not only to be a man, but to be a man of God, and that men would not exchange God's revelation for a cheaper, less meaningful expression of the masculine identity.
i don't know what to make of this
Wow! You are THOMAS KINKADE.
Many in the artist community consider you nothing
more than a merchant of commercialized junk.
You are highly ambitious and consider money to
be an important aspect of life. Your friends
turn to you when they need financial advice.
Which famous artist most reflects your personality?
brought to you by Quizilla
I confess that we have two Kinkade works in our home, both lesser-expensive reproductions of his high-dollar stuff. I am ambitious, don't feel money is important (I wouldn't be doing what I am if that were the case), and the last person who turned to me for financial advice was my four year old son, who asked me if I'd hold for him a penny that he found until we got home and he could put it in his bank.
a nickel for your thoughts
The nickel has been redesigned. Amish Tech Support has an illustration of one of the two new backs. Mark Pierce goes the extra mile and brings both to the blogosphere. The reason behind the effort is to commemorate the Louisiana Purchase. Scrappleface gives you a dime's worth of satire over the celebration.
My suggestion for a new tag line:"Making fun of France for 200 Years!"
My suggestion for a new tag line:"Making fun of France for 200 Years!"
who wants roast peacock for thanksgiving?
Apparently, Al Jazeera hijacked the airwaves tonight, in the airing of the nauseatingly enemy-sympathetic Saving Jessica Lynch.
If I were a family member of one of those brave troops, I'd be outraged.
Waitaminnit...I am outraged. I were were one of them, I'd be downright litigious.
Our servicemen and -women could not have been made to look more keystonian if they carried billieclubs instead of M16s and ran around bumping into one another in Hardyesque fashion. Lynch herself was made to appear hysterical and borderline insubordinate (yet still able to alertly hear the smarmy "Iraqi" menacingly quip, "welcome to my country.")
This thing is so bad on so many levels that I turned the remote over to my beloved and left to go pray for our troops and our country.
If I were a family member of one of those brave troops, I'd be outraged.
Waitaminnit...I am outraged. I were were one of them, I'd be downright litigious.
Our servicemen and -women could not have been made to look more keystonian if they carried billieclubs instead of M16s and ran around bumping into one another in Hardyesque fashion. Lynch herself was made to appear hysterical and borderline insubordinate (yet still able to alertly hear the smarmy "Iraqi" menacingly quip, "welcome to my country.")
This thing is so bad on so many levels that I turned the remote over to my beloved and left to go pray for our troops and our country.
reading is fun
also in my inbox:
This afternoon, the family made the trip to the library. Kelli and the kids have gone several times since we've arrived here, but this was indeed my maiden voyage. I confess, I haven't been in a library since seminary. I'm so glad I went today. And I have to tell you, I was a little more than surprised that there was twenty or so people waiting at the door for the place to open up at 1:30. Who knew that the library was such a happening spot?
When I walked in, seeing shelf after shelf of books, being hit with a twin-nostril full of the smell of paper...I was immediately overwhelmed by childhood memories. So many times I went to the library growing up. So proud was I of my library card. I don't know why I'm compelled totalk write like Yoda all of a sudden, but suffice it to say, the library was a very special place to me. It's where I learned what made that curious monkey George so inquisitive. It's where I laughed over the adventures of SuperFudge. Its where I joined the Hardy Boys to solve countless mysteries (and Ms. Drew, too, I'm no longer ashamed to admit). It's where I adventured with the creations of Lewis and Tolkien. Its where I discovered that knowledge and wisdom and folklore and fantasy all shared a common home, just waiting to be discovered by anyone with a libary card and a healthy respect for the five-cent-a-day overdue charge.
Much has changed, what with the flat screen monitors, bar codes, and audio cd section. But that which is great about libraries remains the same. Book after book, volume after volume, tome after tome, a potpourri of data, errata, and significa available for the masses. I walked briefly through the fiction section, briefly reuniting with Tolkien, but ultimately determining that such an investment must take place after viewing the third installment. Instead, I meandered over to the nonfiction section, and settled on a cornerstone-worthy compilation of the Civil War. As I walked to meet the family again over in the children's section, I noticed that a copy of Grisham's latest was on the "Newly Arrived" shelf. I picked it up, thinking I could probably chew through that in a single evening. I ended up adding one of the Left Behind volumes on Audio CD to my stack, thinking I could give it a shot on my way to work. I quit reading after #3, but I'm familiar with the story, so I'm not too worried about not being able to catch up. If it's on the same level as the ones I have read, I predict our relationship will indeed be brief.
We checked out as a family, putting all our chosen items on my card. Think about that for a moment: how many places in this world will let you take as many items as you want from their inventory on the very first day you are together, solely on the statement that you live nearby and that you'll bring it all back in three weeks? I also admit a bit of pride when the librarian commended me for picking up the Grisham book. "You must have incredible timing, because these books never make it to the shelves.
It's true. My timing is pretty remarkable.
As we left, and I thanked my wife for making sure the library was a place of memories for my children.
"No problem, Encylopedia Brown," she said, and kissed me on the cheek.
This afternoon, the family made the trip to the library. Kelli and the kids have gone several times since we've arrived here, but this was indeed my maiden voyage. I confess, I haven't been in a library since seminary. I'm so glad I went today. And I have to tell you, I was a little more than surprised that there was twenty or so people waiting at the door for the place to open up at 1:30. Who knew that the library was such a happening spot?
When I walked in, seeing shelf after shelf of books, being hit with a twin-nostril full of the smell of paper...I was immediately overwhelmed by childhood memories. So many times I went to the library growing up. So proud was I of my library card. I don't know why I'm compelled to
Much has changed, what with the flat screen monitors, bar codes, and audio cd section. But that which is great about libraries remains the same. Book after book, volume after volume, tome after tome, a potpourri of data, errata, and significa available for the masses. I walked briefly through the fiction section, briefly reuniting with Tolkien, but ultimately determining that such an investment must take place after viewing the third installment. Instead, I meandered over to the nonfiction section, and settled on a cornerstone-worthy compilation of the Civil War. As I walked to meet the family again over in the children's section, I noticed that a copy of Grisham's latest was on the "Newly Arrived" shelf. I picked it up, thinking I could probably chew through that in a single evening. I ended up adding one of the Left Behind volumes on Audio CD to my stack, thinking I could give it a shot on my way to work. I quit reading after #3, but I'm familiar with the story, so I'm not too worried about not being able to catch up. If it's on the same level as the ones I have read, I predict our relationship will indeed be brief.
We checked out as a family, putting all our chosen items on my card. Think about that for a moment: how many places in this world will let you take as many items as you want from their inventory on the very first day you are together, solely on the statement that you live nearby and that you'll bring it all back in three weeks? I also admit a bit of pride when the librarian commended me for picking up the Grisham book. "You must have incredible timing, because these books never make it to the shelves.
It's true. My timing is pretty remarkable.
As we left, and I thanked my wife for making sure the library was a place of memories for my children.
"No problem, Encylopedia Brown," she said, and kissed me on the cheek.
i've been shot
On Friday, NAMB offered employees free flu innoculations. I decided to get one, since we've seemed to be particularly susceptible to the backwoods viruses that call the North Georgia atmosphere "home." In fact, our date night for Friday was postponed because of Kaylyn having a returning bout with one particularly resistant strain of redneck influenza.
Anyway, I answered the 9 a.m. cattle call to the fourth floor, and headed down. I was amazed at how many co-workers made up feeble excuses to avoid getting the shot. "I'm just getting off being ill, my immunity is down," "I've never had the flu and I'm afraid I'd start getting it," "I'm deathly allergic to hypodermic needles," and "in my quiet time today, the Lord told me that I'd be showing a lack of faith if I actually got the shot."
So I went down, and as I waited, I was surprised to discover that my level of anxiety was steadily increasing in direct proportion to my approach to the adminstering nurses. I was also a little alarmed to realize that as my anxiety increases, I attempt to deal with it by trying to be funny. By the time I was "in the batter's box," I was a veritable Henny Youngman. I was zipping out one-liners about the needle being the size of a turkey baster, that I thought this was the line for eight items or less, and that I just wanted everyone to understand that when I screamed in uncontrollable agony, it was in no way a reflection on the skill or ability of the nurse. If laughter is indeed the best medicine, then I was undoubtedly the Jack Kevorkian of the moment. All I succeeded in doing was raising the anxiety level of all those who had the misfortune of coming to get their shot the same time as I. And of course, this all goes to prove that influenza shots are easy, comedy is hard.
It was finally my turn, and the nurse pushed up my sleeve and asked, "Okay Carrot Top, have you ever had the shot before?" You could tell by the look on her face that she clearly had not appreciated my effort to lighten the mood in the room. Here is where I learned that it is nearly impossible to improve a relationship made bad because of weak humor by giving the disaffected person one additional shot of weak humor.
"Well, I can't remember exactly. My memory has 'flu' away."
ba-DUM-pum *CHSSSHHHH*
< crickets chirp > "No. Seriously. < /crickets chirp > "Have you or not?"
Sheepishly, I caved. "No, ma'am. I suppose I haven't."
Shifting to automatic, Nurse Ratchett then explained the various ways that this should *could* but probably wouldn't cause me to have the flu, go temporarily blind, have delusions of hilarity, and even die. As she went through this list, she swabbed up my left shoulder with a sterile solution comprised of her own saliva, Mountain Dew and Yoohoo, applied with a brillo pad.
and then it was over.
She promised that she actually gave me the shot, but I didn't feel a thing. I couldn't verify the action visually, because I had clenched every muscle from the top of my scalp to the tip of my big toe, causing the involuntary vise-like closing of my eyelids. So, I took her word for it, rather than ask for a second injection.
This of course allowed me to be tranformed from Funny Scared Guy, to Heroic Innoculation Recipient. As I walked past my fellow co-workers made terrified by my bad jokes, I assured them they were at the All State of flu shot-giving nurses. " You won't feel a thing," I told them. "Not even like a mosquito bite." I tried herding people in, convincing them that they needed to do it because it wouldn't hurt and they'd be better off for it. People had already made up their minds though. And nothing I was going to say would change their mind, and neither was the "I survived my flu shot" sticker that the nurse slapped to my chest as I walked out.
Two days later, my left shoulder is stiff and sore, like I had just finished a Wuss Out Marathon. Wuss Out, for you who are uninitiated, is the game boys play when they enter adolescence wherein two or more gather and begin slugging each other in the shoulder until all but one "wuss out" or give up. The trick to winning this game is combining the right proportion of velocity with knuckular penetration into muscle tissue. My left shoulder now feels like I was the Wuss Out runner up, which is the equivalent of being 2nd runner up in the Miss America contest, because the Wuss Out Champ is always able to fulfill his duties.
I was hoping that my stiff shoulder would get me out of lawn duties, but Dr. Kelli instead prescribed 14 hours of repetitive raking to work out the stiffness.
So we invested the day in gathering fallen leaves, bagging them, and then standing as a family in the front yard, observing that it appeared that we had made no noticeable impact whatsoever. But we had spent the day together, enjoying the cool autumn air of North Georgia.
And today I have the sniffles.
Anyway, I answered the 9 a.m. cattle call to the fourth floor, and headed down. I was amazed at how many co-workers made up feeble excuses to avoid getting the shot. "I'm just getting off being ill, my immunity is down," "I've never had the flu and I'm afraid I'd start getting it," "I'm deathly allergic to hypodermic needles," and "in my quiet time today, the Lord told me that I'd be showing a lack of faith if I actually got the shot."
So I went down, and as I waited, I was surprised to discover that my level of anxiety was steadily increasing in direct proportion to my approach to the adminstering nurses. I was also a little alarmed to realize that as my anxiety increases, I attempt to deal with it by trying to be funny. By the time I was "in the batter's box," I was a veritable Henny Youngman. I was zipping out one-liners about the needle being the size of a turkey baster, that I thought this was the line for eight items or less, and that I just wanted everyone to understand that when I screamed in uncontrollable agony, it was in no way a reflection on the skill or ability of the nurse. If laughter is indeed the best medicine, then I was undoubtedly the Jack Kevorkian of the moment. All I succeeded in doing was raising the anxiety level of all those who had the misfortune of coming to get their shot the same time as I. And of course, this all goes to prove that influenza shots are easy, comedy is hard.
It was finally my turn, and the nurse pushed up my sleeve and asked, "Okay Carrot Top, have you ever had the shot before?" You could tell by the look on her face that she clearly had not appreciated my effort to lighten the mood in the room. Here is where I learned that it is nearly impossible to improve a relationship made bad because of weak humor by giving the disaffected person one additional shot of weak humor.
"Well, I can't remember exactly. My memory has 'flu' away."
ba-DUM-pum *CHSSSHHHH*
< crickets chirp > "No. Seriously. < /crickets chirp > "Have you or not?"
Sheepishly, I caved. "No, ma'am. I suppose I haven't."
Shifting to automatic, Nurse Ratchett then explained the various ways that this should *could* but probably wouldn't cause me to have the flu, go temporarily blind, have delusions of hilarity, and even die. As she went through this list, she swabbed up my left shoulder with a sterile solution comprised of her own saliva, Mountain Dew and Yoohoo, applied with a brillo pad.
and then it was over.
She promised that she actually gave me the shot, but I didn't feel a thing. I couldn't verify the action visually, because I had clenched every muscle from the top of my scalp to the tip of my big toe, causing the involuntary vise-like closing of my eyelids. So, I took her word for it, rather than ask for a second injection.
This of course allowed me to be tranformed from Funny Scared Guy, to Heroic Innoculation Recipient. As I walked past my fellow co-workers made terrified by my bad jokes, I assured them they were at the All State of flu shot-giving nurses. " You won't feel a thing," I told them. "Not even like a mosquito bite." I tried herding people in, convincing them that they needed to do it because it wouldn't hurt and they'd be better off for it. People had already made up their minds though. And nothing I was going to say would change their mind, and neither was the "I survived my flu shot" sticker that the nurse slapped to my chest as I walked out.
Two days later, my left shoulder is stiff and sore, like I had just finished a Wuss Out Marathon. Wuss Out, for you who are uninitiated, is the game boys play when they enter adolescence wherein two or more gather and begin slugging each other in the shoulder until all but one "wuss out" or give up. The trick to winning this game is combining the right proportion of velocity with knuckular penetration into muscle tissue. My left shoulder now feels like I was the Wuss Out runner up, which is the equivalent of being 2nd runner up in the Miss America contest, because the Wuss Out Champ is always able to fulfill his duties.
I was hoping that my stiff shoulder would get me out of lawn duties, but Dr. Kelli instead prescribed 14 hours of repetitive raking to work out the stiffness.
So we invested the day in gathering fallen leaves, bagging them, and then standing as a family in the front yard, observing that it appeared that we had made no noticeable impact whatsoever. But we had spent the day together, enjoying the cool autumn air of North Georgia.
And today I have the sniffles.
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