From eEye Digital Security:
August 22, 2006
Recent Internet Explorer Security Update Opens Windows Users to Attack
The flaw in the cumulative update, initially thought to only crash Internet Explorer, actually allows an attacker to run code on computers running Windows 2000 and Windows XP Service Pack 1.
Overview
On August 8th, Microsoft released a cumulative update for Internet Explorer 6 Service Pack 1 (MS06-042). By the following day, users and businesses began to notice that the update caused Internet Explorer to crash when browsing some websites.
On August 11th, Microsoft created a knowledgebase article which mentioned problems with the MS06-042 patch, and how Internet Explorer can crash when viewing web pages that use compression. The knowledgebase article failed to mention that the bug is not just a crash, but in fact is something that an attacker can use to remotely compromise PCs. The article also referenced a hotfix for the issue which can be requested through Microsoft Product Support Services.
As of today, August 22nd, technical details of this vulnerability are not public, but it is safe to assume that a savvy attacker can discover the underlying issue and exploit it via a malicious website. eEye is warning its customers to be aware of the risk, and to contact Microsoft Support to obtain the hotfix.
More information on this issue and links to the Microsoft Support documents can be found on the eEye Research Portal.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
Victim of Love
[The Blue Book acknowledges that you hate staring at statistics even more than you hate snow-shoeing through my long-winded blogs.
I never start off attacking the keyboard with a firm topic in mind, and this morning what I thought was gonna be a quick post against drugs turned onto a longer road, with a different direction, to get where we're going.
Sorry folks, I'm trying to do my best here ... and hoping all the numbers will steer this post back to the point. But it's gonna be tomorrow.
Keeping your attention is what matters, I know that ... so skim past all the numbers and percentages if you want to ... the figures are only included to prove the situation is real and accurately described.]
_______________________________________________
Americans are proud of having lots of stuff. Having lots of stuff is consistent with bragging that We're Number One.
But the USA hasn't enjoyed the world's highest standard of living for more than 25 years, and no one seems to have either noticed, or cared very much.
Our current Standard of Living is ranked #10 ... behind Norway, Iceland, Australia, Luxembuorg, Canada, Sweden, Switzerland, Ireland and Belgium. Surprised?
Really?
Even considering our gross domestic product at purchasing power parity per capita, the USA ranks no higher than #3. At $41,399 we're wedged in between Norway and Ireland ... with Luxembourg leading the world at $69,800.
With an average life expectancy of 77.85 years, the USA ranks #48 ... behind Singapore, Guam, Hong Kong, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Jordan, and Saint Helena (and only slightly ahead of Cyprus, Albania, Taiwan and Cuba).
We don't score very high when it comes to literacy, either.
14% of us- that's 40 million Americans- "can barely read a job offer or utility bill, which arguably makes them functionally illiterate" ... only a .4% improvement over the literacy rate among men in Tanzania.
If it's any consolation, the USA is Number 1 when it comes to owning television sets ... with 754 TVs per 1000 Americans.
We also have more cars per capita than any country on earth.
And if we spend $4 billion annually on french fries, $3 billion on potato chips, and almost $3 billion on coffee in 2003 ... that's nothing compared to the $10-$14 billion we spend on pornography ($4 billion on video porn alone) or the $40 billion we spend on diet books and programs.
Or the estimated $500 billion we spent gambling (including $31.5 billion in state lottery games).
We might even start feeling good about spending only $1.4 billion on computer video games, until we realize the average American spends 7.5 hours per week playing video games ... but some studies suggest only about 20% of Americans attend church regularly and of those only 3% tithe.
Americans spent $21.3 billion in 2002 on their pets – almost twice the amount given to missions worldwide. But we spent $224 billion eating out, $67 billion for frozen dinners, $15 billion on junk food snacks, $25 billion on gardening, $22.1 billion on hunting, and $191 billion on personal water craft.
Less than 2 percent of those who tithed gave offerings to special projects like missions.
And how did US churches spend the estimated $12.3 trillion they collected in 2000?
$213 billion was given to radio, TV, book publication, and counseling.
"Of the $11.4 billion given to missions, only 5.4 percent went to foreign missions. And 87 percent of that amount was for work among people who were already Christians. That left only 13 percent of foreign missions contributions to evangelize the entire non-Christian world." -Morality and Economics
Feel free to help me with the math here, but according to my arithmetic that means less than .024% of all money collected by US churches is going to spread the Gospel to non-Christians in foreign countries.
So much for US adults. But what about American teens?
The USA is #1 when it comes to teen pregnancy rates among developed countries, with 48.8 births per 1,000 women aged 15–19 in 2000. If we include pregnancies terminated by abortion, then the total rate is 83.6 pregnancies per 1,000 girls.
That's almost 8.4% of all US teenaged girls. Compare that figure to sub-Saharan Africa, which has the highest incidence of teen pregnancy in the world ... at 14.3%.
Looks to me like we're more than halfway to being #1 globally in that department.
7 in 10 US women who had sex before age 14, and 6 in 10 of those who had sex before age 15, report having had sex involuntarily. According to the Justice Department, one in two rape victims is under age 18; one in six is under age 12.
In 1995, 32,130 males age 12 and older were victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault. [National Crime Victimization Survey. Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S. Department of Justice, 1996.]
1 in 4 sexually active teens become infected with an STD every year. (Facts in Brief: Teen Sex and Pregnancy, The Alan Guttmacher Institute, New York, 1996).
More than 40% of teens who admitted drinking said they drink when they are upset; 31% said they drink alone; 25% said they drink when they are bored; and 25% said they drink to "get high." (U.S. Surgeon General, 1991)
On a typical college campus during a typical year, per capita students spending for alcohol--$446 per student--far exceeds the per capita budget of the college library. (Eigen, 1991 in the 1998 National Household Survey on Drug Abuse).
Percentage of children ages 5-17 who have a TV in their bedroom: 52 (BJK&E Media report, The New York Times, December 30, 1997. )
Hours per day that TV is on in an average US home: 7 hours, 12 minutes (BJK&E Media report, The New York Times, December 30, 1997).
The average child between 2 and 11 years old watches 27 hours of TV per week.
Number of minutes per week that parents spend in meaningful conversation with their children: 38.5 (American Family Research Council, "Parents Fight ‘Time Famine' as Economic Pressures Increase," 1990.)
Parents spend 40 percent less time with their children than the parents of the previous generation, according to a national polling group. On average, Americans spend 6 hours a week shopping and only 40 minutes a week playing with their children.
Are we really #1 when we see what matters to Americans most?
I never start off attacking the keyboard with a firm topic in mind, and this morning what I thought was gonna be a quick post against drugs turned onto a longer road, with a different direction, to get where we're going.
Sorry folks, I'm trying to do my best here ... and hoping all the numbers will steer this post back to the point. But it's gonna be tomorrow.
Keeping your attention is what matters, I know that ... so skim past all the numbers and percentages if you want to ... the figures are only included to prove the situation is real and accurately described.]
_______________________________________________
Americans are proud of having lots of stuff. Having lots of stuff is consistent with bragging that We're Number One.
But the USA hasn't enjoyed the world's highest standard of living for more than 25 years, and no one seems to have either noticed, or cared very much.
Our current Standard of Living is ranked #10 ... behind Norway, Iceland, Australia, Luxembuorg, Canada, Sweden, Switzerland, Ireland and Belgium. Surprised?
Really?
Even considering our gross domestic product at purchasing power parity per capita, the USA ranks no higher than #3. At $41,399 we're wedged in between Norway and Ireland ... with Luxembourg leading the world at $69,800.
With an average life expectancy of 77.85 years, the USA ranks #48 ... behind Singapore, Guam, Hong Kong, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Jordan, and Saint Helena (and only slightly ahead of Cyprus, Albania, Taiwan and Cuba).
We don't score very high when it comes to literacy, either.
14% of us- that's 40 million Americans- "can barely read a job offer or utility bill, which arguably makes them functionally illiterate" ... only a .4% improvement over the literacy rate among men in Tanzania.
If it's any consolation, the USA is Number 1 when it comes to owning television sets ... with 754 TVs per 1000 Americans.
We also have more cars per capita than any country on earth.
And if we spend $4 billion annually on french fries, $3 billion on potato chips, and almost $3 billion on coffee in 2003 ... that's nothing compared to the $10-$14 billion we spend on pornography ($4 billion on video porn alone) or the $40 billion we spend on diet books and programs.
Or the estimated $500 billion we spent gambling (including $31.5 billion in state lottery games).
We might even start feeling good about spending only $1.4 billion on computer video games, until we realize the average American spends 7.5 hours per week playing video games ... but some studies suggest only about 20% of Americans attend church regularly and of those only 3% tithe.
Americans spent $21.3 billion in 2002 on their pets – almost twice the amount given to missions worldwide. But we spent $224 billion eating out, $67 billion for frozen dinners, $15 billion on junk food snacks, $25 billion on gardening, $22.1 billion on hunting, and $191 billion on personal water craft.
Less than 2 percent of those who tithed gave offerings to special projects like missions.
And how did US churches spend the estimated $12.3 trillion they collected in 2000?
$213 billion was given to radio, TV, book publication, and counseling.
"Of the $11.4 billion given to missions, only 5.4 percent went to foreign missions. And 87 percent of that amount was for work among people who were already Christians. That left only 13 percent of foreign missions contributions to evangelize the entire non-Christian world." -Morality and Economics
Feel free to help me with the math here, but according to my arithmetic that means less than .024% of all money collected by US churches is going to spread the Gospel to non-Christians in foreign countries.
So much for US adults. But what about American teens?
The USA is #1 when it comes to teen pregnancy rates among developed countries, with 48.8 births per 1,000 women aged 15–19 in 2000. If we include pregnancies terminated by abortion, then the total rate is 83.6 pregnancies per 1,000 girls.
That's almost 8.4% of all US teenaged girls. Compare that figure to sub-Saharan Africa, which has the highest incidence of teen pregnancy in the world ... at 14.3%.
Looks to me like we're more than halfway to being #1 globally in that department.
7 in 10 US women who had sex before age 14, and 6 in 10 of those who had sex before age 15, report having had sex involuntarily. According to the Justice Department, one in two rape victims is under age 18; one in six is under age 12.
In 1995, 32,130 males age 12 and older were victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault. [National Crime Victimization Survey. Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S. Department of Justice, 1996.]
1 in 4 sexually active teens become infected with an STD every year. (Facts in Brief: Teen Sex and Pregnancy, The Alan Guttmacher Institute, New York, 1996).
More than 40% of teens who admitted drinking said they drink when they are upset; 31% said they drink alone; 25% said they drink when they are bored; and 25% said they drink to "get high." (U.S. Surgeon General, 1991)
On a typical college campus during a typical year, per capita students spending for alcohol--$446 per student--far exceeds the per capita budget of the college library. (Eigen, 1991 in the 1998 National Household Survey on Drug Abuse).
Percentage of children ages 5-17 who have a TV in their bedroom: 52 (BJK&E Media report, The New York Times, December 30, 1997. )
Hours per day that TV is on in an average US home: 7 hours, 12 minutes (BJK&E Media report, The New York Times, December 30, 1997).
The average child between 2 and 11 years old watches 27 hours of TV per week.
Number of minutes per week that parents spend in meaningful conversation with their children: 38.5 (American Family Research Council, "Parents Fight ‘Time Famine' as Economic Pressures Increase," 1990.)
Parents spend 40 percent less time with their children than the parents of the previous generation, according to a national polling group. On average, Americans spend 6 hours a week shopping and only 40 minutes a week playing with their children.
Are we really #1 when we see what matters to Americans most?
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Let's Keep This Between Us, OK?
People send me e-mails by the dozens, wanting to know what AVCLUB.US means.
They want to know what the AVCLUB is all about.
Paraphrasing Jeremy Davies's great line from Solaris (2002): "I could tell you what AVCLUB is about ... but I'm not sure that would really tell you what AVCLUB is about."
The first rule of AVCLUB is Never Talk About AVCLUB.
The second rule of AVCLUB is What Happens At The Render Farm Stays At The Render Farm.
The third rule of AVCLUB is Ken's Coffee Has More Amp-Hours Than A Group 8-D Deep Cycle Marine Battery.
They want to know what the AVCLUB is all about.
Paraphrasing Jeremy Davies's great line from Solaris (2002): "I could tell you what AVCLUB is about ... but I'm not sure that would really tell you what AVCLUB is about."
The first rule of AVCLUB is Never Talk About AVCLUB.
The second rule of AVCLUB is What Happens At The Render Farm Stays At The Render Farm.
The third rule of AVCLUB is Ken's Coffee Has More Amp-Hours Than A Group 8-D Deep Cycle Marine Battery.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Clemson Football
The Blue Book dismisses all political discussion as irrelevant and disruptive. That's why there are no posts here about Democrats, liberals, progressives ... or any of the other corrupt deadly sins.
The Blue Book never deliberately kicks sleeping lions to provoke a reaction, nor ever intentionally goes tango-ing across mine fields, either.
But let's talk about Clemson, football and whether those two words can still be used in the same sentence.
One of my cousins played tennis for the Tigers. My brother also went to Clemson, but I didn't. And the only person I know who graduated from USC is DJ (who is a good guy, despite most of what you've heard).
So it should be clear that I don't have a dog in the Clemson-USC fight. I'm unbiased, neutral and emotionally uninvolved with which team wins. Totally. But some things should be obvious to even the most die-hard Tiger fans.
Clemson Football is about to embark upon a new era that will be remembered as The Decade of Shame and Humiliation. The next few years will be painful indeed, and see much discord among fans, IPTAY and the Administration ... including how soon to have Death Valley demolished and paved over to provide additional parking spaces for the Lady Tiger Volleyball Team's home games.
Or whether to build a new rodeo ring, with air-conditioned sky boxes instead.
It's gonna be a big hurt, Clemson fans. I love ya'll to death, but hopefully knowing what's coming might make it sting a little bit less. :-)
The Blue Book never deliberately kicks sleeping lions to provoke a reaction, nor ever intentionally goes tango-ing across mine fields, either.
But let's talk about Clemson, football and whether those two words can still be used in the same sentence.
One of my cousins played tennis for the Tigers. My brother also went to Clemson, but I didn't. And the only person I know who graduated from USC is DJ (who is a good guy, despite most of what you've heard).
So it should be clear that I don't have a dog in the Clemson-USC fight. I'm unbiased, neutral and emotionally uninvolved with which team wins. Totally. But some things should be obvious to even the most die-hard Tiger fans.
Clemson Football is about to embark upon a new era that will be remembered as The Decade of Shame and Humiliation. The next few years will be painful indeed, and see much discord among fans, IPTAY and the Administration ... including how soon to have Death Valley demolished and paved over to provide additional parking spaces for the Lady Tiger Volleyball Team's home games.
Or whether to build a new rodeo ring, with air-conditioned sky boxes instead.
It's gonna be a big hurt, Clemson fans. I love ya'll to death, but hopefully knowing what's coming might make it sting a little bit less. :-)
Saturday Slacker
Don't ya hate it when bloggers save time by lifting quotes and cliches from other blogs?
Eeeh, I'll just swap out the word(s) I don't like and add a few I do:
Believe it or not, The Blue Book has a blog slush pile ... fully-written, complete posts that never see the light of the interweb. Usually b/c they ramble from here to Greer and back w/o going anywhere.
I e-mail myself a polite rejection slip, then forget about it and try to get on with the day.
What Would Joel Do? Department
I burned a mix of last week's most listened-to songs on Thursday, and used Nero Express's auto-normalize to tackle the job of equalizing the various volume levels of 17 different songs.
Yuk, that didn't work. My ears can handle the volume of an orchestra accompaniment as it crescendos better than it can handle seu jorge singing solo at the identical level. Plus, some songs are just sweeter sounding, and free of heavily saturated, over-mixed effects from the mixing board.
The Blue Book still thinks tube Neumann mics and 1/2" Ampex recorders (with tubes) pressed in vinyl produced more natural sounding recordings than anything else.
Call me retro.
So I'm re-doing another CD the old-fashioned way, and normalizing each song individually. Might even add the tube mic sound fx, so there.
Lunch with ORP Department
I can't call Orp an old friend 'cause she's not nearly old, but she's definitely one of my best friends ... I've known her 12+ years and she's one of the best people to have as a friend. Lunch yesterday was great ... despite the surly, mean-spirited hostess [blog slush pile claimed her antics].
Thanks Orp. Have a safe trip to SF with L.
Eeeh, I'll just swap out the word(s) I don't like and add a few I do:
"Motivation determines how well you will do.
Attitude determines how well you are feeling ...
Especially about yourself."
Rejected by The Blue Book DepartmentEspecially about yourself."
Believe it or not, The Blue Book has a blog slush pile ... fully-written, complete posts that never see the light of the interweb. Usually b/c they ramble from here to Greer and back w/o going anywhere.
I e-mail myself a polite rejection slip, then forget about it and try to get on with the day.
What Would Joel Do? Department
I burned a mix of last week's most listened-to songs on Thursday, and used Nero Express's auto-normalize to tackle the job of equalizing the various volume levels of 17 different songs.
Yuk, that didn't work. My ears can handle the volume of an orchestra accompaniment as it crescendos better than it can handle seu jorge singing solo at the identical level. Plus, some songs are just sweeter sounding, and free of heavily saturated, over-mixed effects from the mixing board.
The Blue Book still thinks tube Neumann mics and 1/2" Ampex recorders (with tubes) pressed in vinyl produced more natural sounding recordings than anything else.
Call me retro.
So I'm re-doing another CD the old-fashioned way, and normalizing each song individually. Might even add the tube mic sound fx, so there.
Lunch with ORP Department
I can't call Orp an old friend 'cause she's not nearly old, but she's definitely one of my best friends ... I've known her 12+ years and she's one of the best people to have as a friend. Lunch yesterday was great ... despite the surly, mean-spirited hostess [blog slush pile claimed her antics].
Thanks Orp. Have a safe trip to SF with L.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
What We Learned Today ...
The Blue Book can't talk, and listen at the same time.
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Wednesday, August 16, 2006
The Best Song You Never Heard
Listen all the way through, you'll see what I mean.
"I Only Have Eyes for You" - Art Garfunkel
I didn't say it was the best song ever; only that it's the best song you never heard. Till today. If you don't love it now, you certainly will later. It's true.
Don't get bored yet ... next post I'll be tackling groovy Surf Guitar. It's gonna be a wipe out, I'm feeling it now.
ps. Sure, The Flamingos version is the truest and the most authentic ... I'm willing to call it a tie, just so we can all just get along ... and dance together later at the malt shop.
pss. I'm not even sure what a malt shop is.
My love must be a kind of blind love
I can't see anyone but you.
Are the stars out tonight?
I don't know if it's cloudy or bright
I only have eyes for you
"I Only Have Eyes for You" - Art Garfunkel
I didn't say it was the best song ever; only that it's the best song you never heard. Till today. If you don't love it now, you certainly will later. It's true.
Don't get bored yet ... next post I'll be tackling groovy Surf Guitar. It's gonna be a wipe out, I'm feeling it now.
ps. Sure, The Flamingos version is the truest and the most authentic ... I'm willing to call it a tie, just so we can all just get along ... and dance together later at the malt shop.
pss. I'm not even sure what a malt shop is.
My love must be a kind of blind love
I can't see anyone but you.
Are the stars out tonight?
I don't know if it's cloudy or bright
I only have eyes for you
To Do List
Saw some guy on TV about a year ago talking about a book he'd written suggesting that everyone should make a list of things, little defining moments (like bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower, or driving cross-country in a convertible), they want to do during their lives.
Good premise, bad execution ... I couldn't even get through reading the author's own "to do" list, and lost interest because his to-do's seemed pretty dull. Or at least they were too personal to him to have much impact on me ... stuff like walking alone on an Australian beach at sunrise, for example.
Limiting the list to adrenaline-surge experiences, this is what I've got at 7:23 AM, presented without regard to importance or urgency:
Fly the "Crazy Horse" P-51 Mustang.
I checked this one out after I got my private ticket and ended up balking at the price. But today an hour at the controls costs even more, something like $3,000.
Uh, think I'll pass. Maybe next time.
Solo the Atlantic in a Single-Engine Airplane
I talked to a small-plane ferry pilot once and came within a hair of getting him to let me ride along on his delivery of a Cessna twin to Europe.
He went on to tell me about the time he'd been grounded at the airport in Reykjavik, Iceland for several days because of weather, when suddenly a Cessna 152 came down through the clouds ... and somehow managed to land during a 5-minute lull in the nearly gale-force winds.
The guy had flown the 1100-pound airplane by himself ... with an extra gas tank where the right seat and luggage compartment used to be.
On July 6, 1994 Vicki Van Meter, age 12, became the youngest pilot to make a transatlantic flight. Vicki flew a Cessna 210.
Let's not dwell on that, and go to the next.
Drive A Sprint Car In A Dirt Track Race
Ok, this looks like some good stuff.
Sprint cars weigh 1100 pounds, have 84-inch wheelbases, 850 horsepower engines, get 1 mile-per-gallon of methanol and slide around dirt tracks at up to 140 mph.
When I was a kid sprint cars didn't have wings. Those big dumb-looking aluminum sheets add down-force to corner faster, and supposedly increase driver protection during roll-overs, but I never got used to how they look ... and wish they were illegal because they're so ugly:
Sarah Fisher started driving winged sprint cars at age 15, before moving to IndyCars and finally over to NASCAR.
Maybe racing dirt track sprint cars is unrealistic. But I'd at least like to be in the stands for the Knoxville Nationals.
Good premise, bad execution ... I couldn't even get through reading the author's own "to do" list, and lost interest because his to-do's seemed pretty dull. Or at least they were too personal to him to have much impact on me ... stuff like walking alone on an Australian beach at sunrise, for example.
Limiting the list to adrenaline-surge experiences, this is what I've got at 7:23 AM, presented without regard to importance or urgency:
Fly the "Crazy Horse" P-51 Mustang.
I checked this one out after I got my private ticket and ended up balking at the price. But today an hour at the controls costs even more, something like $3,000.
Uh, think I'll pass. Maybe next time.
Solo the Atlantic in a Single-Engine Airplane
I talked to a small-plane ferry pilot once and came within a hair of getting him to let me ride along on his delivery of a Cessna twin to Europe.
He went on to tell me about the time he'd been grounded at the airport in Reykjavik, Iceland for several days because of weather, when suddenly a Cessna 152 came down through the clouds ... and somehow managed to land during a 5-minute lull in the nearly gale-force winds.
The guy had flown the 1100-pound airplane by himself ... with an extra gas tank where the right seat and luggage compartment used to be.
On July 6, 1994 Vicki Van Meter, age 12, became the youngest pilot to make a transatlantic flight. Vicki flew a Cessna 210.
Let's not dwell on that, and go to the next.
Drive A Sprint Car In A Dirt Track Race
Ok, this looks like some good stuff.
Sprint cars weigh 1100 pounds, have 84-inch wheelbases, 850 horsepower engines, get 1 mile-per-gallon of methanol and slide around dirt tracks at up to 140 mph.When I was a kid sprint cars didn't have wings. Those big dumb-looking aluminum sheets add down-force to corner faster, and supposedly increase driver protection during roll-overs, but I never got used to how they look ... and wish they were illegal because they're so ugly:
Sarah Fisher started driving winged sprint cars at age 15, before moving to IndyCars and finally over to NASCAR.
Maybe racing dirt track sprint cars is unrealistic. But I'd at least like to be in the stands for the Knoxville Nationals.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Adult Supervision Required
My Granny Hall (whose maiden name was Ida Mae Sammons), from Hartwell, GA used to tell a story about child care that always stuck in my mind.
She said that when a woman had children back then, but the time had come to get back in the fields, mothers with toddlers would take their younguns along ... and after arriving in the fields, the infants would be tied to a tree with a rope just long enough to allow the child a bit of freedom and movement, but not long enough to allow the child to get out of sight ... or into trouble.
This afternoon I was setting up lights for Friday, walking around the house in bare feet (a note from The Blue Book: it's called Bachelor Mopping), came hustling downstairs with extension cords and light heads in hand ... and stepped on an XLR connector I'd found earlier, and left by the stairs to remind myself didn't belong where I'd found it.
Are ya getting the visual here? Bare feet? Metal? Guess who's gonna win that one?
Oh my goodness. For crying out loud. For mercy sakes. Land o' goshen.
My right foot landed on the hard, unforgiving curved metal cylinder with such an impact that I went sprawling like a loose sack of coal falling from the top of a moving train across the hardwood floor ... and laid there stunned and stupid while Luke trotted downstairs to see what all the fuss was about, and then stared and started laughing in the way only a mongrel dog can ... I never said a bad word (unless you count screaming) but knowing nonetheless I'd broken my big right toe.
When's the last time you crawled around your house on all fours and laughed yourself silly at the same time ... for being so dumb and clumsy?
For Pete's sake, ya'll stop it.
Maybe I should start wearing shoes all the time, or keep a better eye on myself and my wayward habits. Intense, excruciating pain that causes swelling, redness and limits mobility is a good teacher.
Call today's event a self-correcting error. Really ouch, like, a whole lot and stuff.
PS. I've got an old photo somewheres, must be about 80 years old, of Granny and Pa Hall back in Georgia when they were in their 20s. I'm gonna try to find and post it.
In the meantime, here's a photo of me taken shortly after arrival. Note: the world really was in black and white till everybody in America had color TVs.
Get the ropes ready; it already looks like I'm dazed, confused ... and liable to go wandering down the nearest cotton row.
She said that when a woman had children back then, but the time had come to get back in the fields, mothers with toddlers would take their younguns along ... and after arriving in the fields, the infants would be tied to a tree with a rope just long enough to allow the child a bit of freedom and movement, but not long enough to allow the child to get out of sight ... or into trouble.
This afternoon I was setting up lights for Friday, walking around the house in bare feet (a note from The Blue Book: it's called Bachelor Mopping), came hustling downstairs with extension cords and light heads in hand ... and stepped on an XLR connector I'd found earlier, and left by the stairs to remind myself didn't belong where I'd found it.
Are ya getting the visual here? Bare feet? Metal? Guess who's gonna win that one?
Oh my goodness. For crying out loud. For mercy sakes. Land o' goshen.
My right foot landed on the hard, unforgiving curved metal cylinder with such an impact that I went sprawling like a loose sack of coal falling from the top of a moving train across the hardwood floor ... and laid there stunned and stupid while Luke trotted downstairs to see what all the fuss was about, and then stared and started laughing in the way only a mongrel dog can ... I never said a bad word (unless you count screaming) but knowing nonetheless I'd broken my big right toe.
When's the last time you crawled around your house on all fours and laughed yourself silly at the same time ... for being so dumb and clumsy?
For Pete's sake, ya'll stop it.
Maybe I should start wearing shoes all the time, or keep a better eye on myself and my wayward habits. Intense, excruciating pain that causes swelling, redness and limits mobility is a good teacher.
Call today's event a self-correcting error. Really ouch, like, a whole lot and stuff.
PS. I've got an old photo somewheres, must be about 80 years old, of Granny and Pa Hall back in Georgia when they were in their 20s. I'm gonna try to find and post it.
In the meantime, here's a photo of me taken shortly after arrival. Note: the world really was in black and white till everybody in America had color TVs.
Get the ropes ready; it already looks like I'm dazed, confused ... and liable to go wandering down the nearest cotton row.
Some of My Best Friends Are Atheists
I tried writing this yesterday and couldn't do it.
On Sunday morning during the drive to the 11:15 AM, I mean I broke down and sobbed for five of the seven miles from my house to the new building, and hadn't even seen or had a clue what was coming.
A live version of "Friend of God" came on the radio, whacking me severely upside the head ... and nearly caused me to pull off the road and stay parked till the song was finished. Literally.
Who am I that You are mindful of me?
That You hear me when I call
Is it true that You are thinking of me?
How you Love me
It's Amazing
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
He calls me friend
"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." John 15:15 NIV
I spent the first 17 years of my life going to church 3x a week (not counting VBS and annual revivals) but can't recall ever hearing that verse, not a single time, until Pastor P quoted it during a message last year.
And it drilled a hole into everything I'd previously thought about following Christ, and what living through Him actually meant.
If there's a critical illustration of Christ's message that's been ignored for about 2000 years too long, a single verse that slams the door on arguments that Jesus Christ was a mythological figure created or re-written in the bowels of the Vatican, just one sentence that opens a unique door revealing why Christianity is a relationship and not a religion and paints an irrefutable description of God's existence all at the same time, it's John 15:15.
Mohmmad never claimed to be God, nor did Joseph Smith, nor did Chaitanya Charitamrita nor did any of the 28 Buddhas. Not even L. Ron Hubbard was so delusional to make such a claim ... because we have a very precise and appropriate term to describe contemporary personalities (like Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and Vernie Wayne Howell (renamed David Koresh)) who'd have us believe they're divine.
That term is psychotic.
I have friends who not only don't believe in Christ but who also reject God's existence categorically.
They laugh at the idea of an old man living in the sky who throws lightning bolts down at folks who've made Him mad, a God who's a mean old codger upstairs who can't wait till we die (as though He's helpless till then?) so he can surprise those of us who didn't follow every rule and sometimes forgot to cross the "t" in every tradition ... by tossing us from the top of the pearly gates directly into hell.
Sorry, but I don't believe in a Nordic mythology-looking God with a long white beard dressed in flowing robes who lounges around in heaven all day surrounded by curly-haired babies playing harps, a God who snatches peeks between the clouds to "catch us" misbehaving (btw, God knows we're gonna sin before we do ... He's all-powerful that way, ya know?) because He's got nothing better to keep Him busy.
What I do believe in is a God who Created the universe and everything within it, a God so powerful and vast that it'd be foolish, and arrogant, for me to even imagine I could comprehend His awesomeness in any empirical way. And I believe Jesus Christ was His only Son.
Read the gospels and see for yourself if Jesus was psychotic when he preached about some whacked out ideas ... like love, forgiveness, grace and redemption.
Decide for yourself if he performed miracles out of selfishness, to make himself rich and famous or to impress his peers or attract women ... like you and I might've done if only we'd had the chance.
Read every word and tell me if really radical concepts like "Love God with all your heart" and "Love your neighbor as yourself" were taught by a man called "The Prince of Peace," or whether the gospel of Jesus Christ was merely an oral tradition that somehow "evolved" from rumors, or whether Christ's teachings could've been jotted down or edited by a committee on orders from the Pope.
(If you think the gospels were actually written by the church, doesn't it make you wonder why the church then turned around and ignored what they suposedly wrote in the first place?)
Just saying.
Spending three years preaching about God's Kingdom, urging crowds to embrace love, forgiveness, grace ... and raising people from the dead, really hacked off religious leaders of the day who didn't like seeing their boat rocked.
They rejected God, and chose their religion and all its comforts instead.
No religion teaches that God is love, or that God Himself came to earth as a human man or woman, or that their God was wrongly accused and convicted to suffer and die a gruesome, horrific death in our place so that we could have eternal life through him or her ... because their God loves people.
Or that having died, their "prophet" or God was resurrected, appeared in the flesh before hundreds of witnesses, and returned to Heaven and lives in a relationship with those who believe in Him.
And no religion on earth claims that the Creator of the universe ever called his followers His friends. None.
Wondering why? Because it didn't happen in their religion. Making claims like that would be too risky and audacious.
So why do I spend time around my atheist friends [who I know will be reading this]?
Because being around you reminds me that God is real and more vast and infinite than anything you or I can imagine, and that every word Christ said was true.
On Sunday morning during the drive to the 11:15 AM, I mean I broke down and sobbed for five of the seven miles from my house to the new building, and hadn't even seen or had a clue what was coming.
A live version of "Friend of God" came on the radio, whacking me severely upside the head ... and nearly caused me to pull off the road and stay parked till the song was finished. Literally.
Who am I that You are mindful of me?
That You hear me when I call
Is it true that You are thinking of me?
How you Love me
It's Amazing
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
He calls me friend
"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." John 15:15 NIV
I spent the first 17 years of my life going to church 3x a week (not counting VBS and annual revivals) but can't recall ever hearing that verse, not a single time, until Pastor P quoted it during a message last year.
And it drilled a hole into everything I'd previously thought about following Christ, and what living through Him actually meant.
If there's a critical illustration of Christ's message that's been ignored for about 2000 years too long, a single verse that slams the door on arguments that Jesus Christ was a mythological figure created or re-written in the bowels of the Vatican, just one sentence that opens a unique door revealing why Christianity is a relationship and not a religion and paints an irrefutable description of God's existence all at the same time, it's John 15:15.
Mohmmad never claimed to be God, nor did Joseph Smith, nor did Chaitanya Charitamrita nor did any of the 28 Buddhas. Not even L. Ron Hubbard was so delusional to make such a claim ... because we have a very precise and appropriate term to describe contemporary personalities (like Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and Vernie Wayne Howell (renamed David Koresh)) who'd have us believe they're divine.
That term is psychotic.
I have friends who not only don't believe in Christ but who also reject God's existence categorically.
They laugh at the idea of an old man living in the sky who throws lightning bolts down at folks who've made Him mad, a God who's a mean old codger upstairs who can't wait till we die (as though He's helpless till then?) so he can surprise those of us who didn't follow every rule and sometimes forgot to cross the "t" in every tradition ... by tossing us from the top of the pearly gates directly into hell.
Sorry, but I don't believe in a Nordic mythology-looking God with a long white beard dressed in flowing robes who lounges around in heaven all day surrounded by curly-haired babies playing harps, a God who snatches peeks between the clouds to "catch us" misbehaving (btw, God knows we're gonna sin before we do ... He's all-powerful that way, ya know?) because He's got nothing better to keep Him busy.
What I do believe in is a God who Created the universe and everything within it, a God so powerful and vast that it'd be foolish, and arrogant, for me to even imagine I could comprehend His awesomeness in any empirical way. And I believe Jesus Christ was His only Son.
Read the gospels and see for yourself if Jesus was psychotic when he preached about some whacked out ideas ... like love, forgiveness, grace and redemption.
Decide for yourself if he performed miracles out of selfishness, to make himself rich and famous or to impress his peers or attract women ... like you and I might've done if only we'd had the chance.
Read every word and tell me if really radical concepts like "Love God with all your heart" and "Love your neighbor as yourself" were taught by a man called "The Prince of Peace," or whether the gospel of Jesus Christ was merely an oral tradition that somehow "evolved" from rumors, or whether Christ's teachings could've been jotted down or edited by a committee on orders from the Pope.
(If you think the gospels were actually written by the church, doesn't it make you wonder why the church then turned around and ignored what they suposedly wrote in the first place?)
Just saying.
Spending three years preaching about God's Kingdom, urging crowds to embrace love, forgiveness, grace ... and raising people from the dead, really hacked off religious leaders of the day who didn't like seeing their boat rocked.
They rejected God, and chose their religion and all its comforts instead.
No religion teaches that God is love, or that God Himself came to earth as a human man or woman, or that their God was wrongly accused and convicted to suffer and die a gruesome, horrific death in our place so that we could have eternal life through him or her ... because their God loves people.
Or that having died, their "prophet" or God was resurrected, appeared in the flesh before hundreds of witnesses, and returned to Heaven and lives in a relationship with those who believe in Him.
And no religion on earth claims that the Creator of the universe ever called his followers His friends. None.
Wondering why? Because it didn't happen in their religion. Making claims like that would be too risky and audacious.
So why do I spend time around my atheist friends [who I know will be reading this]?
Because being around you reminds me that God is real and more vast and infinite than anything you or I can imagine, and that every word Christ said was true.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Papa Returns to the Wrestling Ring?
In this recent photo, wrestling promoter Marvelous Ken the Compositor (second from left) oversees a heated discussion concerning disqualification rules for an upcoming World Wrestling Championship Grudge Match between current undefeated Champion Jake "The Body Crusher" (second from right) and The Blue Book's own Papa "The Old Man" Bowlegs (right).
"The Body Crusher" had previously demanded that Papa, with his superior speed, strength, dexterity and overall ring generalmanship, be required to rassle the winner-take-all match with one leg tied behind his back to the opposite arm.
Referee Dennis (left) reportedly told Marvelous Ken, "Papa's always been known for rasslin' dirty, and breaking the rules every chance he gets. He's a bad man, not even human really, and I just hate to see a nice fella like Jake takin' any chances."
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Tack Ain't So Sharp
Today's Playlist:
December Radio [thanks McD!]
Ran into my old friend Timmy "Tack" Sharply yesterday afternoon.
About five years ago Tack's dad, who'd started his own home construction business, retired and turned the reins of Sharply Builders over to Hack. But when I'd called to schedule having some work done here at the house, the Sharply Builders number was disconnected.
I ended up calling another firm instead.
That's why I was surprised to see Tack himself pull up in the driveway ... in a sparkling-new pickup with a "MishMash Builders" magnetic sign on the side.
"Yeah," Tack explained. "Things is slow everywhere, and I ended up closing the office. A man can't make easy money the way my daddy used to. Times have changed, and daddy don't understand that. That's why I'm doing sub-contractor work when I can get it."
I thought I'd heard Tack wrong.
Five years ago with Tack's dad in charge, Sharply Builders had been one of busiest construction companies in the upstate. I looked inside the leather interior of Tack's shiney new 2006 dualie and saw four cell phones, a DVD player, a GPS navigation system ... and fast-food bags piled high on the floorboards.
"Things can't be that bad. That truck must've cost you a bundle," I said.
"Well, my old truck was almost three years old, so last month I traded it in before it started giving me trouble. It had such low mileage the fiance company just rolled my payments and interest over into a single weekly payment.
"And besides, it's a lease so it's not costing me anything ... except property taxes, insurance and repairs and every three years I turn it back in and they'll give me a new one. It was such a good deal I leased new cars for Lucille and the two kids, which they'll need soon as they get their licenses and start driving. In this business the most important thing is to look successful, you know."
I shrugged and asked Tack, "So things have started turning back around?"
Tack shook his head and spat on the ground beside the truck's mag wheel. "I don't see how I keep getting deeper in the hole," Tack added glumly. He sighed, leaned back against the truck and began telling me a little bit more about his life over the past four years.
A month after taking over the family business from his father, Tack had thought it was a good idea to take out a 120% home equity loan on the house his parents had given him, and used half the money to finance the no-money-down real estate empire he intended to build ... after seeing the idea discussed during an infomercial on late-night TV.
"It's made lots of millionaires who didn't know nothing about real estate," Tack explained. "And I figured I could get rich overnight, just like them people they showed on TV."
Tack used the other half of his home's equity to open a combination tanning salon, coffee shop and internet-cafe franchise ... because his wife wanted the prestige of owning her own business.
"Tanning coffee cafes is the latest thing in California," the sales brochure had promised, adding investors can expect to "Make easy money without working or knowing anything."
But a year later, real estate speculators seemed more interested in selling foreclosed houses than they did in buying them, and Tack ended up facing foreclosure on his own foreclosed properties.
Soon after that Tack had to shut down Sharply Builders and lay off all 35 employees, after earning a reputation for disappearing soon as his customers had handed over a 30% deposit "for materials."
But what surprised Tack the most was how few people were interested in sipping cafe au lait while tanning and surfing the web. "People around here is backwards," Tack patiently explained. "In another 10 years I coulda been bigger than MicroSoft."
Without any construction work coming in Tack had lots of free time on his hands, so he decided to buy a new 60" plasma home theater system with giant 12-channel surround speakers. And since money was tight he took advantage of Entertainment n' Stuff's no-money-down financing ... at only 22% interest.
Tack was so thrilled with his purchase that he went back to the dealer and bought new entertainment centers for all three bedrooms.
But watching 10 hours of TV every day got boring ... so Tack upgraded his high-definition satellite TV service and added all the premium channels.
"I saved a fortune by not going out to movies three nights a week," he explained. "And we don't eat out at restaurants no more. Lucille's so tired by the time she gets off work, she just calls in our take-out order and picks supper up on her way home. So we don't spend nothing on tips, either."
Then summer rolled around and Tack got cabin-fever from sitting around the house. So he and Lucille went boat-shopping. He wanted a new cabin cruiser that was bigger and faster than anything their neighbors had, but Lucille wanted something roomy comfortable for holiday weekends ... when they either weren't at their time-share in the mountains or didn't feel like driving to their time-share at the beach.
So they decided to buy both. And the kids wanted a swimming pool because they got sea sick on the boats, so Tack fiananced one of those, too.
I asked how he could afford such expensive purchases if money was so tight. Tack stared back at me and grinned.
"Shoot, I practically get a new credit card in the mail every month, so cash flow ain't no problem. We got one yesterday we already used to pay for a three-week riverboat casino cruise next month. Sometimes I'll even put my church tithe on credit cards."
I asked Tack how he planned to eventually pay off all his bills.
"I got that one licked too, my man. Tonight's Power Ball's up to 30 million dollars. I'm gonna use every penny of the cash advance on the credit cards I took out in the kids' names to buy lottery tickets. I always had good luck with the poker machines, and don't see how I can lose, do you?"
I started wandering back toward the house.
"And if that don't work," Tack went on, scribbling on his clipboard, "we'll move back in the house with mama and them. But only till more jobs start coming in."
Tack showed me the clipboard and tried handing me a pen. "Now soon as you give me a deposit I'll put you on my list to get started."
I shook Tack's hand and told him I'd changed my mind about having the work done. Tack looked insulted, shook his fist at me and muttered something under his breath as he peeled away in a blur of smoking tires.
I hope Tack, Lucille and the kids aren't too picky about his mama's cooking.
December Radio [thanks McD!]
Ran into my old friend Timmy "Tack" Sharply yesterday afternoon.
About five years ago Tack's dad, who'd started his own home construction business, retired and turned the reins of Sharply Builders over to Hack. But when I'd called to schedule having some work done here at the house, the Sharply Builders number was disconnected.
I ended up calling another firm instead.
That's why I was surprised to see Tack himself pull up in the driveway ... in a sparkling-new pickup with a "MishMash Builders" magnetic sign on the side.
"Yeah," Tack explained. "Things is slow everywhere, and I ended up closing the office. A man can't make easy money the way my daddy used to. Times have changed, and daddy don't understand that. That's why I'm doing sub-contractor work when I can get it."
I thought I'd heard Tack wrong.
Five years ago with Tack's dad in charge, Sharply Builders had been one of busiest construction companies in the upstate. I looked inside the leather interior of Tack's shiney new 2006 dualie and saw four cell phones, a DVD player, a GPS navigation system ... and fast-food bags piled high on the floorboards.
"Things can't be that bad. That truck must've cost you a bundle," I said.
"Well, my old truck was almost three years old, so last month I traded it in before it started giving me trouble. It had such low mileage the fiance company just rolled my payments and interest over into a single weekly payment.
"And besides, it's a lease so it's not costing me anything ... except property taxes, insurance and repairs and every three years I turn it back in and they'll give me a new one. It was such a good deal I leased new cars for Lucille and the two kids, which they'll need soon as they get their licenses and start driving. In this business the most important thing is to look successful, you know."
I shrugged and asked Tack, "So things have started turning back around?"
Tack shook his head and spat on the ground beside the truck's mag wheel. "I don't see how I keep getting deeper in the hole," Tack added glumly. He sighed, leaned back against the truck and began telling me a little bit more about his life over the past four years.
A month after taking over the family business from his father, Tack had thought it was a good idea to take out a 120% home equity loan on the house his parents had given him, and used half the money to finance the no-money-down real estate empire he intended to build ... after seeing the idea discussed during an infomercial on late-night TV.
"It's made lots of millionaires who didn't know nothing about real estate," Tack explained. "And I figured I could get rich overnight, just like them people they showed on TV."
Tack used the other half of his home's equity to open a combination tanning salon, coffee shop and internet-cafe franchise ... because his wife wanted the prestige of owning her own business.
"Tanning coffee cafes is the latest thing in California," the sales brochure had promised, adding investors can expect to "Make easy money without working or knowing anything."
But a year later, real estate speculators seemed more interested in selling foreclosed houses than they did in buying them, and Tack ended up facing foreclosure on his own foreclosed properties.
Soon after that Tack had to shut down Sharply Builders and lay off all 35 employees, after earning a reputation for disappearing soon as his customers had handed over a 30% deposit "for materials."
But what surprised Tack the most was how few people were interested in sipping cafe au lait while tanning and surfing the web. "People around here is backwards," Tack patiently explained. "In another 10 years I coulda been bigger than MicroSoft."
Without any construction work coming in Tack had lots of free time on his hands, so he decided to buy a new 60" plasma home theater system with giant 12-channel surround speakers. And since money was tight he took advantage of Entertainment n' Stuff's no-money-down financing ... at only 22% interest.
Tack was so thrilled with his purchase that he went back to the dealer and bought new entertainment centers for all three bedrooms.
But watching 10 hours of TV every day got boring ... so Tack upgraded his high-definition satellite TV service and added all the premium channels.
"I saved a fortune by not going out to movies three nights a week," he explained. "And we don't eat out at restaurants no more. Lucille's so tired by the time she gets off work, she just calls in our take-out order and picks supper up on her way home. So we don't spend nothing on tips, either."
Then summer rolled around and Tack got cabin-fever from sitting around the house. So he and Lucille went boat-shopping. He wanted a new cabin cruiser that was bigger and faster than anything their neighbors had, but Lucille wanted something roomy comfortable for holiday weekends ... when they either weren't at their time-share in the mountains or didn't feel like driving to their time-share at the beach.
So they decided to buy both. And the kids wanted a swimming pool because they got sea sick on the boats, so Tack fiananced one of those, too.
I asked how he could afford such expensive purchases if money was so tight. Tack stared back at me and grinned.
"Shoot, I practically get a new credit card in the mail every month, so cash flow ain't no problem. We got one yesterday we already used to pay for a three-week riverboat casino cruise next month. Sometimes I'll even put my church tithe on credit cards."
I asked Tack how he planned to eventually pay off all his bills.
"I got that one licked too, my man. Tonight's Power Ball's up to 30 million dollars. I'm gonna use every penny of the cash advance on the credit cards I took out in the kids' names to buy lottery tickets. I always had good luck with the poker machines, and don't see how I can lose, do you?"
I started wandering back toward the house.
"And if that don't work," Tack went on, scribbling on his clipboard, "we'll move back in the house with mama and them. But only till more jobs start coming in."
Tack showed me the clipboard and tried handing me a pen. "Now soon as you give me a deposit I'll put you on my list to get started."
I shook Tack's hand and told him I'd changed my mind about having the work done. Tack looked insulted, shook his fist at me and muttered something under his breath as he peeled away in a blur of smoking tires.
I hope Tack, Lucille and the kids aren't too picky about his mama's cooking.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
How Swift Is Your Sword
I was asleep by 10PM last night to I could get up at 4AM and watch Quentin Tarantino Presents Hero at theater-appropriate volume to start the day.
Loved it, loved it. The plot, revealed a bit ponderously through flashbacks a la Rashomon, doesn't quite roll along like a Hollywood express train but the photography is gorgeous, the special effects are dreamily ingenious, and the DTS 5.1 soundtrack is amazing.
But the most important thing is that Ziyi Zhang is a baby doll.
She was terrific in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and heart-breakingly adorable in The Road Home (which, even though The Blue Book categorically rejects melancholy sentimentalism and especially "having a good cry" as intolerably wimpy, The Road Home merits the highest possible recommendation ... just have your tissues ready).
Now I'm anxious to see Memoirs of A Geisha.
Today I'll be wandering the bamboo maze in the backyard, honing both my swordfighting and flying skills.
My name in Mandarin is Hu Zhan ou (call me Hu for short)
The calligraphy looks like this:
Get your Chinese name here.
Kung Pao Chicken recipe here.
Loved it, loved it. The plot, revealed a bit ponderously through flashbacks a la Rashomon, doesn't quite roll along like a Hollywood express train but the photography is gorgeous, the special effects are dreamily ingenious, and the DTS 5.1 soundtrack is amazing.
But the most important thing is that Ziyi Zhang is a baby doll.
She was terrific in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and heart-breakingly adorable in The Road Home (which, even though The Blue Book categorically rejects melancholy sentimentalism and especially "having a good cry" as intolerably wimpy, The Road Home merits the highest possible recommendation ... just have your tissues ready).
Now I'm anxious to see Memoirs of A Geisha.
Today I'll be wandering the bamboo maze in the backyard, honing both my swordfighting and flying skills.
My name in Mandarin is Hu Zhan ou (call me Hu for short)
The calligraphy looks like this:
Get your Chinese name here.
Kung Pao Chicken recipe here.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Somebody Please Pinch Me
From China View:"BEIJING, August 9 (Xinhuanet) -- American young idol Lindsay Lohan says she wants to go to Iraq with Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton and entertain American troops there.
"I've been trying to go to Iraq with Hillary Clinton for so long. Hillary was trying to work it out, but it seemed too dangerous," the 20-year-old actress says in an interview in the September issue of Elle magazine, on newsstands Wednesday.
"It's so amazing seeing that one woman just going somewhere, this beautiful sex kitten, who's basically a pinup, which is what I've always aspired to be," Lohan said, adding that she would prepare for her trip to Iraq by taking shooting lessons with her security guard.
"I'm not afraid of going," she said. "My security guard is going to take me to a gun range when I get back to L.A., and I'm going to start taking shooting lessons. He says if I'm going to go there I should know how to shoot."
The Blue Book's Knee-Jerk Reaction Department:"Sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it ... and leave no doubt." - Benjamin Franklin
Pinks on SpeedTV
With the recent finale of The Deadliest Catch, and inbetween the increasingly rare new episodes of Lost, primetime TV pickings have been pretty sparse till now.
My new favorite show is Pinks on SpeedTV [Wednesday nights at 9 PM].
Noodle noggin that I am, Pinks is a show with a premise even I can grasp and understand: two guys show up at the track with their rides, and drag race for the best 3 of 5 races. The winner's then awarded the losing car's "pink slip" [the ownership title]
The loser walks away without his expensive custom-built race car.
It's all or nothing, in other words. No whining, no excuses, no begging for a second chance or a "do-over."
Kinda like eternity, if you stop and think about it.
Laughter is Surprisingly Good Department:
Sometimes I'm surprised how little emphasis is placed on comedy, as though 95% of movies and TV shows drill mindlessly into drama and provocative social themes. And what comedy there is is built on foul language, insults and sexual double entendres.
The past few days I've been re-watching Jeeves and Wooster, a comedy series set in pre-World War II England that ran on British TV between 1990-1993. I found Jeeves and Wooster by accident on PBS's Masterpiece Theater years ago, and one day hope to own the entire DVD 8-pack.
Summary from imdb.com"Based on the well-loved novels of P.G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse, this British series featuring Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, chronicles the misadventures (romantic and otherwise) of the impeccably dressed Bertie Wooster and his trusty and sagacious butler, Jeeves. Peppered with sporting dialogue and memorable, dim-witted and eccentric characters."
There's no swearing, no nudity ... not even so much as a sexual pun.
Call me tuppence short of a shilling, or a sandwich short of a picnic, but Jeeves and Wooster is still the only TV show that still makes me laugh out loud several times during each episode.
And Netflix even has all four seasons available for rental.
No Excuses
Except for the two or three years I spent inside Clemson's under-pool weight room, when I ballooned up to 240 lbs, I was always pretty certain my weight generally hovered around 210, same as when I was in college.
But then this morning, reality had a way of crashing down from under me ...
Well, now we have an explanation why some things might have appeared to have been done "half-iced."
But then this morning, reality had a way of crashing down from under me ...
Well, now we have an explanation why some things might have appeared to have been done "half-iced."
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
More on YouTube
Ok I'll admit it. Doing videos with Windows is like fighting underwater with an octopus that's packing a dagger in each tentacle.
But I finally converted and uploaded my first mini-dv project, a short film called "Grace."
Back in 1999 I finished The Hollywood Film Institute bursting with optimism, thinking I was hot on the heels of other HSI alumni like Spike Lee and Quentin Tarrantino.
So I wrote a script and shot the first version of Grace with a Hi-8 camcorder, got excited enough with the results to move up to Canon's XL-1, and re-shot the entire piece.
The only footnotes worth adding are that the lawn-mowing scene was actually shot at high noon, the make-up scene near the end took 38 takes (seriously) before it looked "right," and even though the bedroom in the final scene looks dark, it was brighter than daylight while we were shooting because I used something like 5000 watts of tungsten lights.
(And I never used the on-camera mic again.)
YouTube limits video length to 10 minutes, so I split "Grace" into two parts ...
Grace - Part 1
Grace- Part 2
Wednesdays is for Windows Vulnerability Issues
Here's this week's Windows Vulnerability Issues:
Critical
Windows Gives Me A Happy Face :-)
-People tend to think you're "artsy" if you use or have a co-dependent relationship with Mac (I think you know what I'm saying).
-If your PC doesn't work, you schedule an appointment with a repairman to resolve hardware issues. If your Mac doesn't work, you schedule an appointment with your therapist to resolve childhood issues.
-It's more fun showing people your actual work than it is showing them the coolest fonts ever on the cover of this month's Macworld.
-While 50% of all my Mac-owning friends call me with their technical issues ... they still tend to explore their inner-child issues here and in Mac-focus groups.
Laughter Is Good (ok, ya'll start laughing now).
The Blue Book is humbly greatful and saturated with benevolent devotion to all its readers, regardless of platform, and acknowledges that almost 30% of af ya'll are using a Mac.
Critical
- MS06-040 - Vulnerability in Server Service Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-041 - Vulnerability in DNS Resolution Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-042 - Cumulative Security Update for Internet Explorer
- MS06-043 - Vulnerability in Microsoft Windows Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-044 - Vulnerability in Microsoft Management Console Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-046 - Vulnerability in HTML Help Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-047 - Vulnerability in Microsoft Visual Basic for Applications Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-048 - Vulnerabilities in Microsoft Office Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-051 - Vulnerability in Windows Kernel Could Result in Remote Code Execution
- MS06-045 - Vulnerability in Windows Explorer Could Allow Remote Code Execution
- MS06-049 - Vulnerability in Windows Kernel Could Result in Elevation of Privilege
- MS06-050 - Vulnerabilities in Microsoft Windows Hyperlink Object Library Could Allow Remote Code Execution
Windows Gives Me A Happy Face :-)
-People tend to think you're "artsy" if you use or have a co-dependent relationship with Mac (I think you know what I'm saying).
-If your PC doesn't work, you schedule an appointment with a repairman to resolve hardware issues. If your Mac doesn't work, you schedule an appointment with your therapist to resolve childhood issues.
-It's more fun showing people your actual work than it is showing them the coolest fonts ever on the cover of this month's Macworld.
-While 50% of all my Mac-owning friends call me with their technical issues ... they still tend to explore their inner-child issues here and in Mac-focus groups.
Laughter Is Good (ok, ya'll start laughing now).
The Blue Book is humbly greatful and saturated with benevolent devotion to all its readers, regardless of platform, and acknowledges that almost 30% of af ya'll are using a Mac.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
When A Name's Not Just A Name
Remember when you got in trouble as kid ... and your parents gave you the first clue by hollering out all three of your names ... like, "So-and-so so-and-so so-and-so! Where are you?"
Yeah well, when I saw my name included in today's post at the AVCLUB I got the same feeling, even though my middle name was left out. It's right out there in BOLD YELLOW CAPS and gives me that same cringing feeling ... like maybe I owe Ken money, and forgot.
Doesn't help that if you click on my name you get linked to the Junebug web site.
Guess that's better than being linked to a doodlebug, but still ... feels like I oughtta lay low until MY NAME'S disappeared into next month's archive.
Yeah well, when I saw my name included in today's post at the AVCLUB I got the same feeling, even though my middle name was left out. It's right out there in BOLD YELLOW CAPS and gives me that same cringing feeling ... like maybe I owe Ken money, and forgot.
Doesn't help that if you click on my name you get linked to the Junebug web site.
Guess that's better than being linked to a doodlebug, but still ... feels like I oughtta lay low until MY NAME'S disappeared into next month's archive.
Distracted Nation?
I lost interest in writing anything to go with this post.
Besides, a picture really is worth a thousand words. Sometimes a hundred thousand. Many times even more.
The Jesus Shrimp
The Jesus Rock
The Jesus Fishbone
Jesus Dental X-ray
Jesus Image on Bathtub
More "Jesus sightings" here.
"Those who obey his commands live in him, and he in them. And this is how we know that he lives in us: We know it by the Spirit he gave us." 1 John 3:24 [NIV]
Besides, a picture really is worth a thousand words. Sometimes a hundred thousand. Many times even more.
The Jesus Shrimp
The Jesus Rock
The Jesus Fishbone
Jesus Dental X-ray
Jesus Image on Bathtub
More "Jesus sightings" here.
"Those who obey his commands live in him, and he in them. And this is how we know that he lives in us: We know it by the Spirit he gave us." 1 John 3:24 [NIV]
Monday, August 07, 2006
Whadda Weekend
Slide Into Monday Playlist:
(The Playlist is what's ripping the fabric off the speaker grilles while I'm at the BB keyboard.)
Roger Hurricane Wilson (Can't Find My Way Home, Slide Sequence 3) Son House (Death Letter Blues) Johnny Cash & June Carter (If I Was A Carpenter, Ring of Fire)
Awesome weekend, eh?
Starting off on Saturday morning when I solved my NMEA VHS/GPS interface problem (and also finally identified what's been causing Ben's plumbing leak) through last night's 6PM, the past three days were incredible.
[I didn't forget to include Jenson Button's win for Honda in Sunday morning's Hungarian Grand Prix but there was too much FIA pre-race drama and rain-soaked tension to recap here, except to mention this: , a violation or Article 4.1
The disqualification moves Felipe Massa up to seventh place, with Michael Schumacher eighth despite not finishing the race. That means Ferarri's Schumacher is now just ten points behind Fernando Alonso in the drivers’ championship standings, while Ferrari is only seven points behind Renault for the constructors’ crown.]
What About Last Night?
I grew up like most Southern Baptists, thinking spiritual gifts only meant singing or playing the organ (preaching wasn't a gift, it seemed more like a punishment. As a kid I figured preachers must've done something really awful that got God's attention and had to spend the rest of their lives atoning, by warning others about the consequences of being bad).
I never considered that spiritual gifts could also include wisdom, patience or leadership. Since I lack any trace of any of those gifts, last night I realized how much patience is overlooked.
In the past two years I've gotten better, sorta, about screaming at minivan pilots and throwing stuff at drive-thru windows. But I'm still struggling when it comes to having patience with folks who can't see that even though I'm not always right, I'm hardly ever wrong (and when I am, falling to the floor with a tongue-biting, wall-kicking conniption fit usually gives me an out).
Last night I learned that nobody always likes the way things are done all the time, and if we're focusing 100% of our energy into putting Jesus Christ first ... not just for an hour of worship on Sunday mornings but in every waking moment ... then we might find there's not enough time left at the end of the day to squabble and bicker over insignificant, trivial details like boycotts, stained glass windows or whether to allow raising more than one arm at a time during hymns.
Every second we spend debating whether Adam had a navel is a second lost to witnessing ... because witnessing means more than standing on street corners holding up hand-painted BOYCOTT SIN! signs or sliding You're Headed for Hell, Mister tracks under peoples' doors.
Witnessing reveals Christ more completely in the little things we do when we're not even aware of it, like being patient, kind and forgiving, than He's revealed through publicity-oriented stunts like movie boycotts or CD-burning bonfires ... or through a set of draconian "covenants" intended to self-righteously prove how "holy" or "religious" we feel about ourselves ... especially when we're around people we disagree with.
Shouldn't people be seeing Christ living inside us the most in the little things we do ... like how we treat and act toward each other [clues here include Matthew 22:39, & Matthew 25:41-46], by being patient (not sweating the small stuff) , humble [1 Pete 1:18], and in realizing that if we have eternal life through Grace then everything else is all small stuff)?
Last night I saw the importance of being patient with other Christians who might not necessarily agree with me on every single negotiable theological question (like, How often should you have your mouth washed out with soap for saying "gosh" and "golly"?).
It's just not that important or worth arguing and fussing about, so long as we agree on the non-negotiables. We're on the same team, after all.
Ultimately we've only got one commission ... and if you're still whining about trying to find the one pure and faultless religion, the best place to start looking is here.
Now if we could just form a feasibility committee and vote on a way to stop all that clapping during the service, and make the pastor tuck in his shirt tail, and start having Sunday School, and have a Suggestions Box for picking songs like we did at my old church ....
(The Playlist is what's ripping the fabric off the speaker grilles while I'm at the BB keyboard.)
Roger Hurricane Wilson (Can't Find My Way Home, Slide Sequence 3) Son House (Death Letter Blues) Johnny Cash & June Carter (If I Was A Carpenter, Ring of Fire)
Awesome weekend, eh?
Starting off on Saturday morning when I solved my NMEA VHS/GPS interface problem (and also finally identified what's been causing Ben's plumbing leak) through last night's 6PM, the past three days were incredible.
[I didn't forget to include Jenson Button's win for Honda in Sunday morning's Hungarian Grand Prix but there was too much FIA pre-race drama and rain-soaked tension to recap here, except to mention this: , a violation or Article 4.1
The disqualification moves Felipe Massa up to seventh place, with Michael Schumacher eighth despite not finishing the race. That means Ferarri's Schumacher is now just ten points behind Fernando Alonso in the drivers’ championship standings, while Ferrari is only seven points behind Renault for the constructors’ crown.]
What About Last Night?
I grew up like most Southern Baptists, thinking spiritual gifts only meant singing or playing the organ (preaching wasn't a gift, it seemed more like a punishment. As a kid I figured preachers must've done something really awful that got God's attention and had to spend the rest of their lives atoning, by warning others about the consequences of being bad).
I never considered that spiritual gifts could also include wisdom, patience or leadership. Since I lack any trace of any of those gifts, last night I realized how much patience is overlooked.
In the past two years I've gotten better, sorta, about screaming at minivan pilots and throwing stuff at drive-thru windows. But I'm still struggling when it comes to having patience with folks who can't see that even though I'm not always right, I'm hardly ever wrong (and when I am, falling to the floor with a tongue-biting, wall-kicking conniption fit usually gives me an out).
Last night I learned that nobody always likes the way things are done all the time, and if we're focusing 100% of our energy into putting Jesus Christ first ... not just for an hour of worship on Sunday mornings but in every waking moment ... then we might find there's not enough time left at the end of the day to squabble and bicker over insignificant, trivial details like boycotts, stained glass windows or whether to allow raising more than one arm at a time during hymns.
Every second we spend debating whether Adam had a navel is a second lost to witnessing ... because witnessing means more than standing on street corners holding up hand-painted BOYCOTT SIN! signs or sliding You're Headed for Hell, Mister tracks under peoples' doors.
Witnessing reveals Christ more completely in the little things we do when we're not even aware of it, like being patient, kind and forgiving, than He's revealed through publicity-oriented stunts like movie boycotts or CD-burning bonfires ... or through a set of draconian "covenants" intended to self-righteously prove how "holy" or "religious" we feel about ourselves ... especially when we're around people we disagree with.
Shouldn't people be seeing Christ living inside us the most in the little things we do ... like how we treat and act toward each other [clues here include Matthew 22:39, & Matthew 25:41-46], by being patient (not sweating the small stuff) , humble [1 Pete 1:18], and in realizing that if we have eternal life through Grace then everything else is all small stuff)?
Last night I saw the importance of being patient with other Christians who might not necessarily agree with me on every single negotiable theological question (like, How often should you have your mouth washed out with soap for saying "gosh" and "golly"?).
It's just not that important or worth arguing and fussing about, so long as we agree on the non-negotiables. We're on the same team, after all.
Ultimately we've only got one commission ... and if you're still whining about trying to find the one pure and faultless religion, the best place to start looking is here.
Now if we could just form a feasibility committee and vote on a way to stop all that clapping during the service, and make the pastor tuck in his shirt tail, and start having Sunday School, and have a Suggestions Box for picking songs like we did at my old church ....
Sunday, August 06, 2006
You Know You Want One ...
The Skywalker Jet Pack.
According to specifications, it's capable of lifting a 200 pound man and has a range of 4 miles. Retail price suggested at around $200,000 US
From engadget.com:
"No matter how played flying cars, kayaks, and other strange contraptions are, the allure of a jet pack strapped onto your back just doesn't seem to lose its luster. Rick Herron, creator of Skywalker Jets, has devised a rocket pack that weighs about 90 pounds and can propel a 200 pound pilot around the air for what is likely the most invigorating 5 minutes of their life.
"The crazy part is this thing actually works, and it doesn't get your backside all crispy in the process. Rick plans on producing a finalized model that has a range of about 4 miles and includes a GPS unit integrated into a HUD showing flight time and engine information among other things.
"A prototype build solicited a bid over 10 grand from a hopeful buyer (or helpless Star Wars fan), and this project hopefully won't end here -- Rick plans to get the device approved by the FAA and available to anxious customers as soon as possible, and the good news is that becoming a rocketeer will only cost you a cool $200,000 if it goes into production."
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Will Schumacher Become Tomorrow's F1 Goulash?
The Blue Book needs your help.
Yesterday, same as Friday, I spent most of the afternoon working on my boat ("Ben") trying to get the VHF radio/GPS chartplotter to talk nice to each other. The radio has a nifty set of DSC features, which allow it to transmit and receive position data from the Magellan FX324 GPS unit and then display position data "polled" from nearby DSC-capable boats on its LCD screen ... including emergency/distress signals.
Sorta like a poor man's radar for collision avoidance.
The problem is my old radio got fried, and I took advantage of the warranty to upgrade to Uniden's 525 but now can't sort which NMEA 183 data in/data out/reference wires to connect. Every time I got frustrated I switched the radio over to Fog Horn mode, dialed up the volume and let nearby pedestrians know I was anchored in the driveway.
Didn't have much luck finding model-specific wiring diagrams on the web. If you've got any ideas, please let me know; I'd appreciate it severely.
Enough Whining About Wiring Already: What About Schumacher?
Well, if you saw yesterday's practice sesession live from The Hungaroring Race Course in Budapest, you already know Ferrari's Michael Schumacher wasn't setting his usual blistering pace.
This could get interesting ... since the tight n' twisty race course has practically zero opportunities for overtaking.
Qualifying starts at 8:00am EDST on SpeedTv.
World Champion Alonso Penalized
-from Formula1RaceNews.com
Alonso gesticulated at Doornbos, whom he felt had held him up, and then appeared to deliberately weave and slow his Renault in front of the Dutchman’s car during the afternoon’s session.
Stewards Tony Scott Andrews, Antonio Vasconcelos Tavares and Lajos Herczeg decided that Alonso’s actions were “unnecessary, unacceptable and dangerous”, and awarded him a one second time penalty to be applied to his fastest lap time in each of the qualifying sessions, Q1, Q2 and Q3.
Additionally, Alonso received a similar penalty for overtaking another car after the session had finished, under waved yellow flags.
He will thus get an aggregated cumulative penalty of two seconds in Q1, Q2 and Q3, effectively damning his chances on a circuit on which overtaking is virtually impossible.
Please Papa ... How Is Any Of This Stuff Related?
Even though vampires are thought to have originated in Rumania, it's Bela Lugosi's Hungarian accent that's stereotypically identified as vampires' distinctive lilt. And clearly, it's old wives' tales that vampires can't cross water and only come out at night.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Are You Hacked?
-From WashingtonPost.com
Previous: Javascript Attacks on Steroids | Next: Google to Warn of 'Badware' Sites
The Blue Book says: I don't care, and I'm not scared. The Blue Book crushes viruses, malware, worms, key loggers, trojans, and other stuff you aren't aware of and aren't supposed to know about.
Just remember this: There's a reason Macs aren't affected by viruses. They have immunity because they're the mother host-source of all viruses. In fact, you'll probably get sick if you own one. It's true. Macs are bad.
Bring back DOS. Now.
Brian Krebs on Computer Security
At Least 12 Patches from Microsoft Next Week
Microsoft said today that it plans to issue at least 12 security updates to fix vulnerabilities in its Windows and Office products.
Redmond says 10 of the updates will address flaws -- some of them "critical" -- in Windows. No doubt one of the two Office updates will address the PowerPoint flaw that online criminals have been exploiting for the past month to steal information from companies.
Microsoft often fixes multiple, distinct security flaws with a single patch, so I would not be surprised if the updates released on "Patch Tuesday" next week mend more than two dozen flaws. As usual, Security Fix will have more information on the updates shortly after they are released.
By Brian Krebs | August 3, 2006; 6:08 PM ET | Category: New PatchesPrevious: Javascript Attacks on Steroids | Next: Google to Warn of 'Badware' Sites
The Blue Book says: I don't care, and I'm not scared. The Blue Book crushes viruses, malware, worms, key loggers, trojans, and other stuff you aren't aware of and aren't supposed to know about.
Just remember this: There's a reason Macs aren't affected by viruses. They have immunity because they're the mother host-source of all viruses. In fact, you'll probably get sick if you own one. It's true. Macs are bad.
Bring back DOS. Now.
Figures
A few minutes ago I got an e-mail saying the girl on the left is actually Yvette Dita.
And Yvette didn't marry me; she married this guy. Or she's his step-daughter, can't remember.
This is the look on my face while I'm waiting for things to straighten themselves out. Maybe it's time to head back out to sea.
L' Atalante Life
Ah, the only photo from my honeymoon back in '34. I was a captain back then, piloting a cargo barge on the muddy waters of the Seine. Dita Yvette (or was it Yvette Dita?) and I eloped one dizzy summer night when I was in port delivering mason jars for the Iva Firefly Festival. She never learned to speak English, and I never learned any French. Communication was therefore quite difficult, and by the end of the week we lost touch and went our separate ways.
Au revoir, rêves doux de luciole. Mai toutes vos fioles brillent brillamment. (N'est-il pas étonnant comment le Français fait à non-sens romatic sain?)
-L' Atalante (1934) directed by Jean Vigo
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Thursday Morning Follow-up
Over the past two years I've had more than a handful of people ask me, "You've been going to church, no kidding? You? You're probably the last person I woulda thought ..."
Then they wanna know the reason why. They wanna know what's different.
It's not about New Spring, even though I love the worship service, think the band rocks hard! and consider the staff and volunteers I've met more like family than friends (we get to spend eternity together in the same neighborhood, after all).
It's not about the big guy doing the preaching, either (though he's got a God-given knack for finding all the stress cracks in your spiritual foundation, and teaching how only Holy Spirit-brand concrete can handle the repairs and give your soul's house an everlasting rennovation).
What made the difference for me was understanding this: either Christ's death and resurrection was absolutely, literally 100% true ... or Christianity is nothing more than another bogus, alternative man-made religion. Faith in Jesus Christ can't work any other way.
Christianity falls apart without Christ's literal death and resurrection ... and that means the resurrection cannot be accepted as a metaphor, a fairy tale or muddled wishful-thinking. Folks, it either literally happened exactly as the Gospels describe or we might as well start worshipping cows or space aliens or an old pair of socks ... because it won't make any difference.
If God could literally bring a man back to life then Christ's resurrection stands alone, not even the moon landing comes in a close second, as the most important and critical event in all of human history ... and for crying out loud isn't it time we "got the point" and started living as though the resurrection was as real and proved God's word is true as if we'd witnessed it first hand?
Don't bother arguing that the Gospels were written several decades later, or that the Gospels was painstakingly manufactured by candlelight around 200 AD in the Vatican basement by a bunch of cardinals who'd been ordered to fabricate or re-write the Gospels to consolidate the church's power and oppress people the Pope didn't like.
I've already tried those leftovers, and can promise you they all stink the same.
You'll find out "The Vatican Did It" theory won't wash as soon as you start reading Matthew and discover that Christ's message of forgiveness through God's love amounts to a revolution so unlike any man-made religion, and so clearly describes God's purpose all the way through Revelation, that no group of men could've created a radical, consistent, and life-changing fairy tale anything like it.
What gets to me personally is that if the disciples were lying, if they'd had a reason to steal Christ's body and make up a resurrection lie, maybe to keep the denari rolling in as they traveled around living like peasants, preaching forgiveness through God's grace (or maybe to save face after being deceived by Jesus and the lies he told about being God's Son for the past three years), then when the terrible persecutions started all they had to do to avoid torture and a horrible death was deny the whole thing, show the Romans where Christ's body was hidden, and start telling the truth.
But they were already telling the truth of what they'd seen, and were martyred without recanting. Not even one time.
If you still have doubts about the Gospels being a fabricated fiction, remember that the New Testament would've had to have been made-up and written down not by a single person but by a committee ... and committees struggle when it comes to deciding where's the best place to hang a new traffic light, or what color to paint the church's bathroom walls.
People don't like hearing Jesus Christ is the only way, and somehow feel more comfortable believing that "all religions are the same" or "all paths ultimately lead to salvation." But that argument overlooks folks like me, who get lost at Wal-Mart or forget the church office's phone number, or have to keep checking a web page to find out what time the 11:30 service starts.
The "emergent church" can argue from now till the Rapture that "each person is free to find their own way" but if that's true then there's gonna be lots of people like me spending eternity wandering around the mall parking lot trying to remember where they parked their car.
Believing that God literally raised Jesus from the dead seems like a tall order for lots of people who're too busy to spend much time thinking about eternity, especially the ones who got a dose of Theology 101 back in college. Maybe because they're uncomfortable with the dramatic changes that would re-prioritize their lives, or because they'd have to toss the latest version of politically-correct theology out the window.
No one enjoys finding out they've been living according to a bad decision based on erroneous assumptions ... and had somehow been ignoring what was obvious all along. All religions are not the same. All paths do not lead to salvation and we are not free to determine the quickest or easist way to get there.
Folks, living in the 21st century does not entitle us to ignore the truth and re-write the rules.
Either Christ's resurrection was real or it wasn't. And if it wasn't real then we can forget about all the assortment of religions bragging that theirs is the "one true way" and prance off into eternity on our own merry way without missing a step.
But if the resurrection is real then God's word is also true. And that means the joy of knowng Christ is also real.
The fact of Christ's death and literal resurrection proves that the gift of eternal life is available through Grace to all who ask Christ into their lives ... and also proves that every man-made religion, no matter what they might claim, leads to a dead end that has nothing to do with Heaven.
Then they wanna know the reason why. They wanna know what's different.
It's not about New Spring, even though I love the worship service, think the band rocks hard! and consider the staff and volunteers I've met more like family than friends (we get to spend eternity together in the same neighborhood, after all).
It's not about the big guy doing the preaching, either (though he's got a God-given knack for finding all the stress cracks in your spiritual foundation, and teaching how only Holy Spirit-brand concrete can handle the repairs and give your soul's house an everlasting rennovation).
What made the difference for me was understanding this: either Christ's death and resurrection was absolutely, literally 100% true ... or Christianity is nothing more than another bogus, alternative man-made religion. Faith in Jesus Christ can't work any other way.
Christianity falls apart without Christ's literal death and resurrection ... and that means the resurrection cannot be accepted as a metaphor, a fairy tale or muddled wishful-thinking. Folks, it either literally happened exactly as the Gospels describe or we might as well start worshipping cows or space aliens or an old pair of socks ... because it won't make any difference.
If God could literally bring a man back to life then Christ's resurrection stands alone, not even the moon landing comes in a close second, as the most important and critical event in all of human history ... and for crying out loud isn't it time we "got the point" and started living as though the resurrection was as real and proved God's word is true as if we'd witnessed it first hand?
Don't bother arguing that the Gospels were written several decades later, or that the Gospels was painstakingly manufactured by candlelight around 200 AD in the Vatican basement by a bunch of cardinals who'd been ordered to fabricate or re-write the Gospels to consolidate the church's power and oppress people the Pope didn't like.
I've already tried those leftovers, and can promise you they all stink the same.
You'll find out "The Vatican Did It" theory won't wash as soon as you start reading Matthew and discover that Christ's message of forgiveness through God's love amounts to a revolution so unlike any man-made religion, and so clearly describes God's purpose all the way through Revelation, that no group of men could've created a radical, consistent, and life-changing fairy tale anything like it.
What gets to me personally is that if the disciples were lying, if they'd had a reason to steal Christ's body and make up a resurrection lie, maybe to keep the denari rolling in as they traveled around living like peasants, preaching forgiveness through God's grace (or maybe to save face after being deceived by Jesus and the lies he told about being God's Son for the past three years), then when the terrible persecutions started all they had to do to avoid torture and a horrible death was deny the whole thing, show the Romans where Christ's body was hidden, and start telling the truth.
But they were already telling the truth of what they'd seen, and were martyred without recanting. Not even one time.
If you still have doubts about the Gospels being a fabricated fiction, remember that the New Testament would've had to have been made-up and written down not by a single person but by a committee ... and committees struggle when it comes to deciding where's the best place to hang a new traffic light, or what color to paint the church's bathroom walls.
People don't like hearing Jesus Christ is the only way, and somehow feel more comfortable believing that "all religions are the same" or "all paths ultimately lead to salvation." But that argument overlooks folks like me, who get lost at Wal-Mart or forget the church office's phone number, or have to keep checking a web page to find out what time the 11:30 service starts.
The "emergent church" can argue from now till the Rapture that "each person is free to find their own way" but if that's true then there's gonna be lots of people like me spending eternity wandering around the mall parking lot trying to remember where they parked their car.
Believing that God literally raised Jesus from the dead seems like a tall order for lots of people who're too busy to spend much time thinking about eternity, especially the ones who got a dose of Theology 101 back in college. Maybe because they're uncomfortable with the dramatic changes that would re-prioritize their lives, or because they'd have to toss the latest version of politically-correct theology out the window.
No one enjoys finding out they've been living according to a bad decision based on erroneous assumptions ... and had somehow been ignoring what was obvious all along. All religions are not the same. All paths do not lead to salvation and we are not free to determine the quickest or easist way to get there.
Folks, living in the 21st century does not entitle us to ignore the truth and re-write the rules.
Either Christ's resurrection was real or it wasn't. And if it wasn't real then we can forget about all the assortment of religions bragging that theirs is the "one true way" and prance off into eternity on our own merry way without missing a step.
But if the resurrection is real then God's word is also true. And that means the joy of knowng Christ is also real.
The fact of Christ's death and literal resurrection proves that the gift of eternal life is available through Grace to all who ask Christ into their lives ... and also proves that every man-made religion, no matter what they might claim, leads to a dead end that has nothing to do with Heaven.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
First Wednesday
Confession time.
I didn't even get 4 hours of sleep last night. I woke up walking sideways with an aching back (from sleeping on an inflatable mattress in the most-air conditioned room). Didn't feel like going to First Wednesday all day, and even pulling onto the parking lot at 6:20pm I still felt like I was on auto-pilot and just following wherever my shoes were pointed.
Oh boy, I'm glad I went.
I'm as dense as a frozen bowling ball and have a hard time following lofty theological discussions. My attention span is measured in yawns and seat-squirms. I need to have the point spelled out clearly, in bold printed letters, or my concentration ends up wandering away and getting lost in another hemisphere.
This guy made Christianity come alive to me for the first time (and I grew up being dragged, sometimes literally, to church until I was old enough to quit going) about 3 years ago. That's not kissing ice or praising or cheerleading My Pastor's #1, because God hates boasting as much as He hates liars. It's the plain truth.
And when I saw this ...
Tonight I had the chance to see God turn Perry loose to communicate the message of The Cross to the people who needed to hear and receive it the most ... people who hadn't arrived at New Spring by accident or by chance but because they'd been led to face making a crossroads decision about eternity, and where they would spend it.
God used Perry tonight to lay down what happened at the cross in graphic detail, to explain what Jesus's death and resurrection meant, and then slammed hell's gate shut forever for the people who came forward and accepted Christ as their Saviour. Souls were saved because they heard the message being communicated in a way they could understand. It was incredible listening to Pastor P firing on 12 cylinders and watching him hit 220+ mph crossing the finish line.
The enemy got his butt kicked tonight, and had to go home knowing he finished dead last about forty times.
That's not bragging, that's rejoicing.
I didn't even get 4 hours of sleep last night. I woke up walking sideways with an aching back (from sleeping on an inflatable mattress in the most-air conditioned room). Didn't feel like going to First Wednesday all day, and even pulling onto the parking lot at 6:20pm I still felt like I was on auto-pilot and just following wherever my shoes were pointed.
Oh boy, I'm glad I went.
I'm as dense as a frozen bowling ball and have a hard time following lofty theological discussions. My attention span is measured in yawns and seat-squirms. I need to have the point spelled out clearly, in bold printed letters, or my concentration ends up wandering away and getting lost in another hemisphere.
This guy made Christianity come alive to me for the first time (and I grew up being dragged, sometimes literally, to church until I was old enough to quit going) about 3 years ago. That's not kissing ice or praising or cheerleading My Pastor's #1, because God hates boasting as much as He hates liars. It's the plain truth.
And when I saw this ...
Tonight I had the chance to see God turn Perry loose to communicate the message of The Cross to the people who needed to hear and receive it the most ... people who hadn't arrived at New Spring by accident or by chance but because they'd been led to face making a crossroads decision about eternity, and where they would spend it.
God used Perry tonight to lay down what happened at the cross in graphic detail, to explain what Jesus's death and resurrection meant, and then slammed hell's gate shut forever for the people who came forward and accepted Christ as their Saviour. Souls were saved because they heard the message being communicated in a way they could understand. It was incredible listening to Pastor P firing on 12 cylinders and watching him hit 220+ mph crossing the finish line.
The enemy got his butt kicked tonight, and had to go home knowing he finished dead last about forty times.
That's not bragging, that's rejoicing.
When Guard Dogs Go Bad
Did ya see on the news about the German shepherd employed as a "guard" by a London museum went nuts, and attacked a collection of Teddy bears?
Silly dog did over a million dollars US damage to the collection, including shredding a Teddy bear once owned by Elvis. Nobody's sure what precipitated the shocking episode. Maybe it was hearing "Blue Suede Shoes" played over the public address system one time too many.
Which just goes to show ya ... he ain't nothing but a hound dog, after all.
Silly dog did over a million dollars US damage to the collection, including shredding a Teddy bear once owned by Elvis. Nobody's sure what precipitated the shocking episode. Maybe it was hearing "Blue Suede Shoes" played over the public address system one time too many.
Which just goes to show ya ... he ain't nothing but a hound dog, after all.
Bridgestone + The Wheel = 1 Awful Commercial
I don't care that Bridgestone brags about who the director's worked with.
"The Wheel" is one of the worst commercials I've ever seen. Goes round and round ... No, that's wrong.
It IS the worst commercial I've seen. Ever. If I had Bridgestones on my car I'd take them off the rims this afternoon and feed the 5-tire set into a wood chipper.
And I'm not even gonna point out that world-dominating Ferrari uses Michelins in their F1 campaign.
"The Wheel" is one of the worst commercials I've ever seen. Goes round and round ... No, that's wrong.
It IS the worst commercial I've seen. Ever. If I had Bridgestones on my car I'd take them off the rims this afternoon and feed the 5-tire set into a wood chipper.
And I'm not even gonna point out that world-dominating Ferrari uses Michelins in their F1 campaign.
How HOT is it?
I dunno what it's like at your house, but this morning I caught my floor fan trying to crawl inside the refrigerator.
Yesterday afternoon my wireless router got weird, and refused to accept incoming connections from my laptop. I'm upstairs now as I type this, but I won't be for much long because the desk thermometer says it's already 923 F. degrees ... and it's only 9:47am.
While I wait for the IT Department to show up (that means soon as I get over being aggravated) and chill down my router, here's Today's Traffic is Such A Hassle Playlist.
Up from the Skies - Jimi Hendrix (Axis: Bold As Love) .... awesome album btw!
Like A Rolling Stone - Jimi Hendrix (live at Monterey version)
Red House - Jimi Hendrix ("Are You Experienced" album)
High Speed Highway Bonus:
Try this next one if you find yourself running late today on the Interstate and can't resist the temptation of asking the gas pedal for time-management assistance.
The song has nothing to do with speeding, running late or feeling rushed ... it's just too heavy to enjoy if you're staring at a red light. As you nudge the speedometer past 65mph make sure your volume's up high enough that wind & road noise doesn't interfere with your listening enjoyment, and also to make sure the drivers you're passing can appreciate the lyrics.
Spanish Castle Magic - Jimi Hendrix (the live versions, free of studio effects and gimmicks, are especially interesting if you're into feedback & electric guitar virtuosity)
Yesterday afternoon my wireless router got weird, and refused to accept incoming connections from my laptop. I'm upstairs now as I type this, but I won't be for much long because the desk thermometer says it's already 923 F. degrees ... and it's only 9:47am.
While I wait for the IT Department to show up (that means soon as I get over being aggravated) and chill down my router, here's Today's Traffic is Such A Hassle Playlist.
Up from the Skies - Jimi Hendrix (Axis: Bold As Love) .... awesome album btw!
Like A Rolling Stone - Jimi Hendrix (live at Monterey version)
Red House - Jimi Hendrix ("Are You Experienced" album)
High Speed Highway Bonus:
Try this next one if you find yourself running late today on the Interstate and can't resist the temptation of asking the gas pedal for time-management assistance.
The song has nothing to do with speeding, running late or feeling rushed ... it's just too heavy to enjoy if you're staring at a red light. As you nudge the speedometer past 65mph make sure your volume's up high enough that wind & road noise doesn't interfere with your listening enjoyment, and also to make sure the drivers you're passing can appreciate the lyrics.
Spanish Castle Magic - Jimi Hendrix (the live versions, free of studio effects and gimmicks, are especially interesting if you're into feedback & electric guitar virtuosity)
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Shameless Self-Promotion
Had a great visit with cousin Ryan during her visit. When not teaching English to high school kids in Prague, she's finishing up a Masters in Psychology, and looking at PhD programs. She's cool, and I'd go with dreds too if I could.
"The human face is the great subject of the cinema. Everything is there." Ingmar Bergman, 18 June 2004
Back in 2002 I did a comedy parody of Ingmar Bergman's filmmaking style; kinda ironic since imho Bergman stands untouchably apart as the genius of the genre.
Sundance turned it down, but now you can see "Der Bass Treeifn: The Gift of Anna" at YouTube.com for free. Esch-tun-de.
The Blue Book highly recommends these Bergman classics:
Persona
Hour of the Wolf
The Virgin Spring
Through A Glass Darkly
Cries and Whispers
"The human face is the great subject of the cinema. Everything is there." Ingmar Bergman, 18 June 2004
Back in 2002 I did a comedy parody of Ingmar Bergman's filmmaking style; kinda ironic since imho Bergman stands untouchably apart as the genius of the genre.
Sundance turned it down, but now you can see "Der Bass Treeifn: The Gift of Anna" at YouTube.com for free. Esch-tun-de.
The Blue Book highly recommends these Bergman classics:
Persona
Hour of the Wolf
The Virgin Spring
Through A Glass Darkly
Cries and Whispers
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