Do not fall in love with people like me.

Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful place.
so that you can never go back to them without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible.
And when I leave, you will finally understand
why storms are named after people.

-Unknown

Book of Mormon Predecessor?

The LDS apologist world had a relatively stark eruption this week due to a publicized find. There were some people doing word print studies of the Book of Mormon and they discovered two books that had a good number of hits. They were written and published before the Book of Mormon so what influence they had is still being considered.

Late War
First Book of Napolean

They both were written in a scriptural style, Jacobian English, similar in tone and meter of the KJV. This is significant because now the Book of Mormon falls within a genre. It isn't the only book that was published at the time telling a story in this particular way. Now there are other 19th century works that clearly put the Book of Mormon within that timeframe.

The book, Late War, contains some interesting parallels, but I have no idea if they are significant. There is a brass ball "of curious workmanship" employed in both, with descriptive equality, but not similar contexts. Stripling warriors are mentioned in both. Righteous bands of 2000 warriors are found in both. The concept of Title of Liberty, or a flag on a pole, is also present, but is also a general theme of many histories of the American Revolution. The civil war of Kingmen/Freemen is present also. This might be because many have mentioned that the war chapters of the Book of Mormon are a stylized retelling of the American Revolution/War of 1812 anyway, so that parallel might already exist.

Of greater significance is that someone else wrote "scripture" at the same time Joseph Smith did. The finessed apologetics of the last decade in the Book of Mormon were swept away. Hebraisms found in the Book of Mormon are also found in the stylized history of Late War. What few things that the Book of Mormon had going for it in relation to being an ancient record are now under scrutiny because of a children's history book written by a fellow New Yorker, years before the Book of Mormon made its appearance.

Is this a silver bullet? No. Is this the source of the Book of Mormon, at least the war chapters? Maybe not, but the uniqueness of the Book of Mormon took a serious hit. This doesn't explain the supernatural occurrences that surround the Book of Mormon, but those issues are questioned in other venues, with other methods employed. As a scholarly endeavor, the Book of Mormon took a solid body blow this week.

Mormon Discussions
David Wright's Work on KJV english
Hidden in Plain Sight (presentation notes)

Depression

I feel it coming over me
I’m still a slave to these dreams
Is this the end of everything?
Or just a new way to bleed?
--Evanescence

Again, an abbreviated blog post. I've been prone to depression much of my life. It isn't anything that I'm medicated for. I tend to savor it a bit, and then push through it. I'm going through a bit of it. I'm not all that happy with my life right now. I know, I know, Facebook is all about "Joy, Joy, Look how wonderful my life is!" Well, I do have a good life, but not feeling it all presently. People aren't always happy, and some are going through difficult times. I'm not, so I know that this is either empathy, or just sick and tired of flat, troubled Illinois. Maybe it is just that I've been with my job for too long. Not sure. I'll push through it and get to the other side. I always do.

New Way To Bleed

Forest Preserve Tour

I've been giving myself a reason to ride my motorcycle. Sure, I can convince myself that it is to familiarize myself with the county, look for places to take the kids, etc. but I know the real reason is to give me some reason to get on the bike and go somewhere that doesn't involve hundreds of miles. It is hard enough for me to find something interesting to look at in Illinois, so this is giving me something to do.

I won't publicize all my findings on the forest preserves. After all, you might need to have a purpose some afternoon also. I will give my quick feelings on a few of them. For your reference, you can look at the map. I have it on my phone so I can use it for a reference. I've already viewed the ones close by and I concentrated on the ones south of 64. Since I've kind of avoided that part of the county most of my stay here, it actually was a bit of a tour of discovery. Tracy and I traveled through Aurora at one point in our newlywed past and became hopelessly lost trying to find US30. My avoidance of that area has held ever since we actually moved here.

My biggest find was Dick Young F. P. The place is huge. Not a whole lot of trees, but long, and I mean long, trails. The place is over 1200 acres, probably filled with ticks. Next to the FP is a Batavia park. That place had the soccer fields and baseball fields you would expect, but it also had an 18 hole frisbee golf course. Score! I only know of one other one in Streamwood and I haven't been there in about a decade.

Some other FPs weren't all that remarkable. Some had trails. Some didn't have an entrance yet, but I could see the signs that they had placed along the perimeter. I found some trails without an FP but didn't appear to be part of a bike trail or a housing complex. The farther south I got, the more McMansions were present. There was some nice spots along the Virgil Gilman Trail, and I would like to take it on a bike at some point.

I was interested in the Big Rock FP as it had some nice trails and was really in some unpopulated country. On the way, I looked over the dried cornfields and noticed some steeples. I became hopeful that, while I knew there wasn't a town over there, I might find that these belonged to an old church and provide a good photo to post. As I returned and got closer, I noticed that the steeples were large and fairly new. Dang it, it was a stupid Megachurch....No, the sign said it was a catholic church. I passed it by but thought that it was still a pretty buiding, and if in a different circumstance, I might think it a beautiful building. It was only my ruined hopes that was coloring my opinion.

I turned back to the church and wound my way around the building looking for a good shot. While I kinda found it, I didn't want to get off the bike, or turn to make it a more comfortable angle...I shot it at a stupid angle. I continued around the building to the main parking lot and got a better angle. I've found some beautiful pictures of churches lately stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Saint Katharine Drexel Catholic Church

I continued back north, finding a few FPs that were nothing but acres and acres of weeds, or small isolated fields. Some consisted of nothing but a picnic table. I pretty much finished up my tour of FPs, at least on the southwest side of the Fox River. I passed by quite a few farms selling pumpkins and I wondered how my wife was doing with the kids picking apples.

My journeys continue.

"The Mississippi" or "I Need Some Terrain Because It Is Too Damn Flat In Elgin"

So, even after all my family did this summer, I still have a large amount of paid time off to use, and I'd rather not use them in the middle of winter when I don't have anywhere to go. So where does a guy go that has only ridden his motorcycle 1000 miles, mostly too and from work? That's a good question. I looked in all directions but I was limited as a cold front was coming in and I didn't want to be caught riding a motorcycle hundreds of miles in 50 degree weather. The quick answer was the Mississippi River.

I've been on some epic travels in the past few years. Traveling is one of the ways I use to figure out things in my life, and for decades, I've had a lot on my mind. Recently, I've cleared up a lot of things that have tormented my mind, so my trips have become fewer and less about naval gazing than in the past. So, instead of finding a place along the river and trying to find reason and coherence for my life, I am more interested in riding my bike and just enjoying where I am.

I have favorite stretches of the river. There are a few places south of Burlington Iowa that are pleasant, but I've been there almost each year in the past 20. I like the river south of St. Louis, but I couldn't go there and get back in a day. I visited St. Louis last year too. So that leaves that almost directly west of here. I hadn't ridden US 20 to Galena on my bike, and I keep hearing how nice the ride is. Tracy and I visited there last year with the kids when we were coming back from camping at the Mississippi Palisades. I'm not a great fan of the place, but the ride does remind me of a road in Vermont that I frequented, trying to get away from the stresses of being a missionary. So that was it. I'll go to Galena and head north and turn around either at Prairie Du Chien or La Cross. I really like that section since I first visited on a trip to Minneapolis. In fact, Hayden and I camped there when he was 4 or 5. It was one of my most memorable trips.

The ride to Galena was nice, and it was worth the time. I liked the fact that there is terrain, actual hills and turns. I weary so of the level/straight landscape that plagues most of Illinois. If it wasn't for the job and proximity to family, I would be out of here soooooo fast. Less traveled by me is the trip to Dubuque, Iowa. I caught the Great River Road in Galena and would follow it to Prairie Du Chien (PDC). If memory served, I would be traveling some more rustic roads on the Wisconsin portions. One of my first surprises was in order to get to Wisconsin, I had to travel through Dubuque. So I crossed the Mississippi and traveled north for a mile, and crossed again. Wisconsin! I traveled inland for some time and I became worried that I had missed a turn. 8 Miles in and I found my turn. I was greeted by a typical state road until I turned in what appeared to be a normal residential area. That was an odd turn, and I found Potosi. The town was one house wide on either side as it was built in a river valley with high bluffs. I passed what was billed as "Wisconsin's First All Girls' School", and a brewery. A large 2 story can of beer and a mobile "bar" serving Potosi beer, of course.



It was a nice short ride to Cassville. I didn't remember any of this from my previous trips, and I would have because Cassville had two, count them, two power plants. I have a thing for power plants. I know I wouldn't pass by two impressive power plants if I had to turn around at PDC, so I was happy that I found these two there. My bike's gas meter also started blinking north of the northern plant, and I knew I was going to be on back roads until I hit PDC. Hopefully I could make it.

The road was interesting, but not extremely enjoyable. The scenery was great, but the road was loose gravel so I couldn't go at speed as the wheels couldn't find consistent purchase. I remembered heading south on this road some years previous with Tracy. I remembered a dark road, kind of swampy, with some old mobile homes. Well, I found that spot, but the sun was brighter and it wasn't nearly as foreboding as I remembered. I then climbed the bluff and was in the midst of cornfields until once again meeting 35 and heading into PDC. Gas and a wipe of the visor and front wind shield made for a nice ride across the Wisconsin River and into PDC proper.

A quick lunch and a message to Tracy to let her know I was alive and I headed across the river. I did a brief ride through riverside park, unintentionally as I made a wrong turn. It wasn't that remarkable and the navigable part of the river was closer to the Iowa side on the far side of the island I was viewing.

Once across the river, I made a turn right and headed to the Effigy Mounds. I was always disappointed at my previous visits, but I still stopped to see what it was that I was disappointed in. Ah, yes. The hikes to get to the mounds. I'm always strapped for time, so I didn't see them again. Oh well, I headed south again and made a stop at the "hysterical" marker. I remembered I was disappointed there to, but couldn't remember why. Ah yes, there was a trail from one fort to another....big deal. Why did they even mark this?

I had to stop in Marquette for a train, so I took these pictures of the casino while I waited. My next stop would be up on the bluff at one of my favorite places, Pike's Peak State Park.


I remember camping here with Hayden many years back. I distinctly remember the playground and the view is fantastic. The campground is nice and the town below is charming, if not on the old side. It is a great place to visit. There isn't much barge traffic on the north Mississippi, but the view is nice to see. Because of the time of day and knowing my drive back, I didn't spend much time there. I will be back though.

I also remembered a few churches close by. I think the reason I remembered them is that they were out of place and seemingly "in the middle of nowhere." Truth be told, I was only a few miles out of the village, but the fact that the town was on the river and the churches were up on the bluff, the distance is really just an illusion. The transition from the river to the bluff feels more drastic than it really is.


The churches are surrounded by cornfields, which isn't really all that unusual. Everything in the midwest is surrounded by cornfields. It just strengthens the feeling of isolation. I'm sure if I lived there, it wouldn't seem so isolated. FYI, if you want to see them on the map, church1, Norsk Church. The older church might not actually have services, but is used for other purposes.

Once again, the road took me off the bluff and towards the river. It was a thoroughly enjoyable road. I felt so comfortable on the bike, and I could take the turns at speed. The scenery was awesome, as far as the river goes, and I just hit a rhythm with the bike and the road. I soon was confronted once again with a turn and a city. I lost track of the road, if that makes sense. I actually started to follow the geo metro ahead of me more that I was following the signs. It wasn't like I had any particular way to go.  I looked around and I remembered the city. This might be the city that I remembered liking so well. I turned off the highway and was met by a park all along the riverside. It looked kind of shabby, but there was the park, the lock and dam...it had to be it. I moved through the town still seeing how much things had changed from my memory. It wouldn't be the first time I remembered things incorrectly. I was out East showing Tracy where I served on my mission and I told her of this long bridge and how high it was. When we actually were on it, she looked at my like I was insane. It was a bridge, but it was only about 10' high. How on earth did I remember it so differently? Anyway, Guttenburg, IA. I stopped on the south side of town and looked around. I didn't remember this end of town correctly at all. I remembered there being a park, up on the bluff, and there wasn't a bluff here, but everything else was expected....hmmmm.

I soon came up on the bluff and I remembered how much I enjoyed this part of the road, The road went up and up to what might be the highest part of the state, for all I know. I came through the town of Balltown, up on the peak of the ridge, if that is what it is. I could see across the river to Cassville and the power plants. I considered taking a picture but I would have to zoom in and it just wouldn't do it justice. I might have to consider getting a better camera. I continued down the ridge and on the outskirts of town there was a sign, "The Churches of Sherrill Welcome You". I thought "Sherrill is an odd name for a god, but whatever." The River Road took an odd turn and I was greeted by an uncomfortable ride. Lots of turns, but none could be taken at speed. The road was in bad condition and the wheels kept wanting to slip under me. I was glad to be off of it and meet up with 52 again as it was a lousy road.

One thing I noticed, aside from the patches of yellow flowers that were in patches along the east bank, was the silver grasses. There were large patches of this all along the Iowa side of the river. With all the wind, the impression that parts of the state were chromed with this grass made for a more enjoyable trip.

A slow travel through Dubuque and odd construction zones and I was once again on my way south. Bellvue. Bellvue was the town I was thinking off. It was almost a copy of Guttenburg but with more "money" and, sure enough, there was the state park south of town. It is a beautiful place in the summer. I'll be camping there next year maybe.

A non remarkable road followed and I eventually came to Sabula. It is an odd little town; poor and located on an island if you don't consider the multiple causeways that connect to it. I think I've been here three times in the past couple of years. I braced myself for the trip across the bridge back into Illinois. It is a very narrow, steel deck bridge. It grabs your tires and moves you around, and there aren't any railings to keep you from falling in the river if it moves you too much. It is a high bridge, like all that cross the river to accommodate barge traffic. Now I was on completely familiar ground. I stopped for a quick bite at the Taco Bell and headed home. It was surprisingly a quick 2 hour ride back home. One thing I like about motorcycles is that although I'm not a speed freak, I know I can pass almost anything in a short period of time. That is helpful on these back country roads.

I got back home at around 7:30, after dark. I had ridden 500 miles and I was sore. I am amazed at how tired sitting down on a bike can be. My neck hurt because my helmet isn't the lightest made. I'm glad I went on it, but I think next year I'm going to the Twin Cities on a longer ride. I really like the river, and Illinois is too damn flat.

1 in 7 Are Not With Their True Love

Original Article.

I saw this article last week and I wanted to throw a couple of comments on the wall and see if they stick. The first thing I question is what is meant by "True Love"? Love is incredibly subjective and love might not be returned or felt by the other party. I would venture to guess that there are a lot of people in that situation. Many times, breakups are one sided for whatever reason. I don't know if the survey went into more depth about the situation of "True Love".

Relationships are complicated matters. They mean different things at different times of people's lives. One relationship might be extremely passionate, the next, a deep friendship. Which would qualify as "True Love"? Both have their strengths and weaknesses, potentially. How long do you need to be in a relationship to qualify as "True Love"? Perhaps I'm purposefully muddying the issue. It is just something that lacks definition.

I'm really curious about the 46% of the people who would leave their current relationship for their "True Love". What are the situations of these people? Would they leave their families? What financial hit would they take? I think it is easy to say that they would leave. I'm all for being passionate about someone. I understand that completely. However, how many would feel justified in hurting others in following through with that passion? If there were no consequences, I'm sure almost everyone's lives would change. If your relationship isn't a good one, then by all means, try to remedy it. Life is too short to be miserable.

I wish I could give expression to all the things I question about this article. It may be that my current position in my life has let me see into more relationships than in the past. I see people in a lot of different conditions and have seen relationships change, including my own. I don't know if such simple ideas of "True Love" is operative in a lot of people's lives. Most I find are "Good Enough Love" and there isn't anything wrong with that.

New Paradigm

For the past, oh, 3 decades or so, I've been involved in an experiment. It perhaps wasn't a conscious experiment, but it was being performed none the less. I've been trying to harmonize what I believe with what I see. At times it was rather messy, and caused an enormous amount of stress and cognitive dissonance. Last year, I decided to go with what I can see and see if my life becomes any better. Well, it did. A lot better. My internal struggles between my heart and mind quieted down to barely a trickle.

This different way of thinking, for me at least, really hit home with me last night while I was watching a show called "History of Science". They were talking about how scientists started investigating how old the earth was and the uproar it created amongst other scientists and religionists. What I was thinking during the time, perhaps blasphemously, was "Thank God I don't have that conflict anymore." Being an engineer in a magical world was difficult for me. Geology, Astronomy and the other sciences are what I am interested in and it was in stark conflict with my beliefs for so long. I lost sleep, spent hundreds, perhaps thousands of dollars and untold time trying to come to terms with it. When I decided to just let it be, let my mind, evidence and beliefs guild themselves, my world became calmer. Some things I was passionate about have become past curiosities. My life is focusing on the things I want to focus on. If evidence changes or new thoughts need to be thought, I'll work with them as needed. I'm done with trying to force the world into my preconceived notions. I'll let the world be what it is. I'll let me be what I am.

It's a good place to be so far.

Humanism?

I was a fairly impressionable teen I guess. I made a lot of mistakes, and my drive to find some sort of meaning in the world, forgiveness, or perhaps a cold glass of Dr. Pepper led me to consider a lot of roads. Like many other teens, I was heavily influenced by music. It made me think. The poetry that is inherent within songs appealed to me, and I considered their content. Also, I was a big science fiction reader, and that introduced me to a lot of concepts.
I remember contemplating some of the mysticism located on Ozzy Osbourne's "Diary of a Madman". He mentions things along the lines of Astral Projection, etc. I was never much for that form of thought. It seemed to make my BS meter wiggle a little more that I was comfortable with. I also loved Rush. Their songs spoke to me in a very deep way. They were humanists. They weren't Christians but believed in the common goodness of mankind, that we can overcome our weaknesses if we care for each other to the point of doing it. Then, there was Christianity. At that point, that was really all I knew. I later learned about Islam, Hinduism and many of the Eastern Philosophies.
Over the past many years, I've had to reconsider what I thought, what I believed. I find myself tending to align more with humanism again, if where I metaphorically stand in my world can even be given a name. It may just be age, as I grow weary of looking at the world trying to make sense of it. I just feel more comfortable being nice to others than trying to convince them that my way of living my life is the correct way. I no longer can convince myself of that, let alone convincing others. Perhaps I am turning into an Apatheist. I don't care if there is a god and don't care to spend the time and energy aligning my life to whatever he/she might think is best.
I look at the expanse of the universe. There is so much there. I look around me, and I see my friends, neighbors, the people who share this journey on the third rock from the Sun. That is what I care about. That is where I am burning out my life. If there is a god, he/she/it will have to understand that my time is growing short. I can't see a straight path, so I choose to love those that surround me. If that isn't good enough, then I guess I have no more to say.

Freewill
There are those who think that life is nothing left to chance,
A host of holy horrors to direct our aimless dance.

A planet of playthings,
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive.
"The stars aren't aligned
Or the gods are maligned"-
Blame is better to give than receive.

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice.
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill;
I will choose a path that's clear-
I will choose Free Will.

There are those who think that they were dealt a losing hand,
The cards were stacked against them- they weren't born in lotus-land.

All preordained-
A prisoner in chains-
A victim of venomous fate.
Kicked in the face,
You can't pray for a place
In heaven's unearthly estate.

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice.
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill;
I will choose a path that's clear-
I will choose Free Will.

Each of us-
A cell of awareness-
Imperfect and incomplete.
Genetic blends
With uncertain ends
On a fortune hunt that's far too fleet.

Lauren Winner

“I didn’t really know, even when writing the book, that many Christian communities in times gone by would have said “Oh, this is normal, this dark night of the soul, this doubt. This is part of the expected choreography of a Christian life.” If I had known that, while writing Still, there probably would have been a chapter: “dark night choreography,” or somesuch.

It is only in the last year or so that I have begun to read and study and learn that many, many wise saints from times gone by would say, about a season of doubt or alienation from God or despair, “This is not an aberration. This is one of the well-established patterns of Christian life.” Not every Christian lives through such a season, but for many people, it is simply part of the architecture, part of what we can expect along the path to God, the path to true intimacy with God and self and neighbor.

Somehow knowing that has allowed me to read my own experience, my own years’ long (four? six?) sojourn into that alienation with a bit more—well, appreciation. And a bit less anguish. And it has allowed me to say to friends and parishioners who are in the anguish that they are companioned by saints, and by a whole tradition of wisdom for the dark nights. Knowing that does not make the dark seasons any easier. The dark seasons are, simply, awful. They are awful. But the knowledge that they are actually part of the warp and woof of Christian life may make our abiding in the darkness, our presence to the darkness, more bearable, perhaps less alone, perhaps even rich. Perhaps the place we know as a place of God’s removal becomes a place of knowing God more.”

— Lauren Winner

"A Short Stay in Hell"

Over the past couple of years I’ve struggled to finish any kind of book before I lost interest. Don’t confuse this with not reading, as I’ve read like a maniac at times. Still, taking the time to focus on plot, meaning or even simple story has been hard for me to do. On a message board that I frequented, a book, or more of a short story, was recommended. Well, a couple of days ago I looked at it again and decided to download it on the kindle, or rather, my phone. I tend to not spend any money on books unless it is something I want to keep in my library for some time. Three bucks, no biggie.

The book is A Short Stay in Hell by Stephen Peck. I have an affinity for books and stories about an afterlife and this fits the bill. There are a few things that I think would peak your interest and perhaps allow you to consider this book for your shelf. Most books like this are affirming of pre-conceived ideas. If a catholic writes it, you would expect a catholic take. If a mormon writes it, you would expect mormon concepts, etc. This does it to a slight degree, but really works out to someone with a mathematical background, which the author has. The author is mormon. I don’t know if he is currently practicing. However, the reality early on indicates that this doesn’t follow a mormon narrative.

The protagonist dies, and arrives in a demon’s office with 5 others. A short discussion ensues with one of the characters.

“….I was saved.” 

“No. Sorry. The true religion is Zoroastrianism, I’m afraid. Bit of bad luck there. Christianity certainly borrowed a great deal from the one true religion, but not enough, unfortunately. Not nearly enough.” 

“Zoor-what-ism? Never heard of it. How can that be the true religion?” The man looked confused. 

“Zoroastrianism? Oh, there’s never been but a few hundred thousand of them at any one time, mostly located in Iran and India, but that’s it. The one true faith. If you’re not a Zoroastrian, I’m afraid you are bound for Hell.” 

The man looked stunned and shocked. “It’s not fair.” 

The demon gave a mirthful laugh. “Well, it was fair when you were sending all the Chinese to Hell who had never heard of Jesus. Wasn’t it? And what a cruel and vicious Hell it was. And your Hell was not our short little correct-you-a-little Hell. This was eternal damnation. At least in the true Zoroastrianism system you eventually get out of Hell. Do you have any idea how long eternity is? My heavens, what an imagination you humans have. What kind of God would leave you burning forever? Most of you wouldn’t do that to a neighbor’s dog, even if it barked incessantly at two a.m. every morning. After about ten minutes watching a dog suffer in the kind of Hell you imagined God was going to send his wicked children to, you would be pleading for the damned beast’s mercy. It’s crazy. Create a few beings; those that don’t obey you roast forever? Give me a break.” The demon shook his great head in wonder.

This gives you a sense of the story, but before the mormons get too excited about the above dialog, the demon dismisses the protagonist's Mormon faith without comment other than a quick “…not a bad Mormon. You would have made a good Zoroastrian. Now what Hell for you?”

The rest of the book talks about the particulars of his Hell. The protagonist, Soren, has to deal with his incorrect assumptions, faith and morality. He deals with the particulars in relationships and what to do with an unlimited life, one where you can die (and necessary in the story) but never leave. He brings up peculiarities, like the lack of any ethnicity, no Asians/blacks/Hispanics, but never addresses an answer. It doesn’t try to answer many of the situations he finds himself in. I think that this is partially a reflection of the author’s desire to get across that not everything has an answer, it just is.

I found this an enjoyable read. I finished it in a couple of hours, if that. It is a short story. It still is thought provoking and brings into question some assumptions of what we might expect ourselves.

Oh, his hell is a library. That is kind of important to the story.

A Short Stay in Hell

Interview with Steven Peck

Abraham Lincoln Anecdote

Abraham Lincoln, a noted storyteller, recalled that "there was a farmer who had a very large shade tree towering over his house. It was a majestic-looking tree, and apparently perfect in every part -- tall, straight, and of immense size -- the grand old sentinel of his forest home.

One morning, while at work in his garden, the farmer saw a squirrel run up the tree into a hole; he wondered if the tree might be hollow.

He proceeded to examine the tree carefully and, much to his surprise, he found that the stately tree that he valued for its beauty and grandeur was hollow from top to bottom. Only a rim of sound wood remained, barely sufficient to support its own weight.

What was he now to do? If he cut it down, it would do great damage with its great length and enormous spreading branches. If he let it remain, his family was in constant danger. In a storm it might fall, or the wind might blow it down, and his house and children be crushed by it. What should he do?

As he turned away, he said sadly: "I wish I had never seen that squirrel!"

A Brief Note on Thomas Jefferson

A brief note on Thomas Jefferson, my personal hero.


Thomas Jefferson was a very remarkable man who started learning very early in life and never stopped.
At 5, began studying under his cousin's tutor.
At 9, studied Latin, Greek and French.
At 14, studied classical literature and additional languages.
At 16, entered the College of William and Mary.
At 19, studied Law for 5 years starting under George Wythe.
At 23, started his own law practice.
At 25, was elected to the Virginia House of Burgesses.
At 31, wrote the widely circulated "Summary View of the Rights of British America" And retired from his law practice.
At 32, was a Delegate to the Second Continental Congress.
At 33, wrote the Declaration of Independence .
At 33, took three years to revise Virginia's legal code and wrote a Public Education bill and a statute for Religious Freedom.
At 36, was elected the second Governor of Virginia succeeding Patrick Henry.
At 40, served in Congress for two years.
At 41, was the American minister to France and negotiated commercial treaties with European nations along with Ben Franklin and John Adams.
At 46, served as the first Secretary of State under George Washington.
At 53, served as Vice President and was elected president of the American Philosophical Society.
At 55, drafted the Kentucky Resolutions and became the active head of Republican Party.
At 57, was elected the third president of the United States .
At 60, obtained the Louisiana Purchase doubling the nation's size.
At 61, was elected to a second term as President.
At 65, retired to Monticello .
At 80, helped President Monroe shape the Monroe Doctrine.
At 81, almost single-handedly created the University of Virginia and served as its first president.
At 83, died on the 50th anniversary of the Signing of the Declaration of Independence along with John Adams.

Thomas Jefferson knew because he himself studied the previous failed attempts at government. He understood actual history, the nature of God, his laws and the nature of man. That happens to be way more than what most understand today. Jefferson really knew his stuff. A voice from the past to lead us in the future:

John F. Kennedy held a dinner in the white House for a group of the brightest minds in the nation at that time. He made this statement: "This is perhaps the assembly of the most intelligence ever to gather at one time in the White House with the exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone."

"When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become as corrupt as Europe ."
-- Thomas Jefferson

The Anarchist

The lenses inside of me that paint the world black

The pools of poison, the scarlet mists that spill over into rage

The things I've always been denied

An early promise that somehow died

A missing part of me that grows around me like a cage

This is the chorus from Rush's "The Anarchist" on their latest album "Clockwork Angels". It is an angst driven album from my take on it. I just love this segment of the song. 

The lenses inside of me that paint the world black. 

This is a great way of saying that the world is the way we see it. Using the lenses of our vision to show that we are actively creating our world, helps put this in perspective. It isn't really black, but that is how he chooses to see it.

The pools of poison, the scarlet mist that spill over into rage

Doesn't this just paint a mind picture of evil intent? The imagery that this gives me is so intense and the feeling spilling over into rage. Spill over, as in he's already full of anger(?) where the excess becomes rage. Damn.

The things I've always been denied

An early promise that somehow died

The sense of entitlement, something he deserved being taken. The turmoil of revolution, one of the oldest passions in the world.

A missing part of me that grows around me like a cage

I stared at this lyric for some time and didn't grasp what Neil was trying to say. Now I get it. All the rage, anger and the missing part of him to the point of obsession, creating a cage around his soul that he needs to break out of. He needs to be free of that want, that desire, that need. Freaking brilliant! I wish, oh how I wish I could write lines like that. 

The lyrics can be found at http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/rush/theanarchist.html. The drum and bass work of this song are exceptional. I wish I had sound equipment that could do it justice.

Geddy Lee talks about the song here.

The song can be had here.

Poetry #1

I've found a few more poems that I've posted on FB.

I, Too

I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America.

--Langston Hughes




Wild Geese

 You do not have to be good.
 You do not have to walk on your knees
 For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
 You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
 Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
 Meanwhile the world goes on.
 Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the dee...p trees, the mountains and the rivers.
 Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.
 Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination,
 calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
 over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

~ Mary Oliver ~



The Summer Day

Who made the world?
 Who made the swan, and the black bear?
 Who made the grasshopper?
 This grasshopper, I mean-
 the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
 the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
 who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
 who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
 Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
 N...ow she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
 I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
 I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
 into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
 how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
 which is what I have been doing all day.
 Tell me, what else should I have done?
 Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
 Tell me, what is it you plan to do
 with your one wild and precious life?
 --Mary Oliver


Tears In Sleep
by Louise Bogan

All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day,
And I, in the cage of sleep, on a stranger's breast,
Shed tears, like a task not to be put away---
In the false light, false grief in my happy bed,
A labor of tears, set against joy's undoing.
I would not wake at your word, I had tears to say.
I clung to the bars of the dream and they were said,
And pain's derisive hand had given me rest
From the night giving off flames, and the dark renewing.


I wanted to set these apart, for no reason other than repeating them.

Regrets

I find writing very cathartic. It has taken up a good majority of my time this past year. I have written many and sent fewer letters to friends over the past year and perhaps I should put the year into perspective. This is an awfully self-centered post considering what some of my friends have gone through. I apologize in advance.

I have been, and so have some the people I care about, through an emotional year. For me, it has been a rough 3 years. I’m passing through what some may call a mid-life crisis. I’ve re-evaluated what my life has been and where I want it to go. I have the normal constraints. I have a wife, family, job, home that I have to consider.  My introspection has been unusually honest for me. I might want to put my thoughts in relation to a recent article “Top 5 Regrets of the Dying”

1.       I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

I’m not sure how to express this in my own life. While at the time I felt I was living true to myself, I realize that much of the time I wasn’t. About the only time growing up that I truly felt that I was doing this was when I was in the process of trying out for the Naval Academy. I really didn’t want to go. Yes, I knew it was an honor, but I really didn’t want to go. I have always had a trouble with authority and at that point in my life, it wouldn’t have ended well. Instead, I went to a religious school. I didn’t go from some fanatical devotion, but to escape what my brother had gone through at a state college. I wanted to study and learn. I didn’t want to worry about my roommate coming in drunk or all the associated falderal. It also didn’t hurt that I had exceptional test scores and I could have gone to almost any school in the country.

I’m more reticent about my mission. I think it did more harm than help. It came at a rough time in my life and the added pressures pushed me over the edge. In many ways, I am thankful that I went, but in others, not so much. I’ve spent a great deal of my life coming to terms with all that happened to me in those two short years. Yes, I learned a lot about myself, but they were parts of myself that I wish I never knew.

I can’t say that I have a lot of regrets about my life after that. I met and married a wonderful woman. We received a great education and master’s degrees. I have a good job, and a great family. I mostly wish I was more vocal about certain elements of my life, and being a bit more open and honest with those around me.

2.       I wish I didn’t work so hard.

I’m not so sure if this applies to me. I like working. I like the challenge of learning new things and solving new problems. What I wish is that I didn’t worry so much. That is what I really would like to say here.

3.       I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

I am really, really trying to get over this. I don’t want this to be one of my regrets. I know it may be disconcerting to many of my friends if I express just how much I care for them and how much they have affected my life. I’m getting to the age where I don’t really care what people think of me. If I care, I care.  I’m overcoming the fear of telling people that. Growing up, I lived in a very reserved family. I can see some friendships and opportunities that have slipped by because I was so reserved. I’ve let people assume I believe certain things because I didn’t express myself. I’ve struggled in other ways because I wasn’t vocal with my concerns and my impressions. I am a very emotional person, and not expressing myself has had a detrimental effect on me and my relationships. I realize that now. I’m changing it. In regards to item #1, this means I might be taking different paths than I have in the past, but I cannot bear the thought of going to my grave with what might have been. I may need to do some course correction, and I’ll be honest and truthful about the path that I take.

4.       I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends

Thank God for the internet and facebook. It has let me contact most of my friends and let me stay in somewhat good touch with them. I know I bond hard, perhaps too hard. But I’m here. If anyone wants to talk…I’m here.

5.       I wish that I had let myself be happier

I do need help with this, and I think I’m getting better. I like my life. I don’t really have anything to complain about. I have a good sense of humor and a good set of friends. I sometimes wish, well, I always wish that I lived in a different state than where I currently live, but other than that, I have a damn good life.

Tracy and I spoke last night about regrets. There were the constant ones, like travel and job location. Still, we’ve had a lot of opportunities. We worked hard to get a higher education. Later life adoptions and family have us a bit more tied down at this point in our life than others, but I wouldn’t trade my family.  We may get the chance to do things later in life, or when the kids are a bit more independent.  If not, meh. I only have one shot at this, and I am giving it my all. Sometimes my all is sitting in front of the TV watching my son play video games. That is where I’m at in my life.