I’ve voiced this complaint to a few of you, but here it is on paper. So I take time to try and write thoughtful and consistent posts for a week. I get like one maybe two nods over the course of a day or two. Harris on the other hand, basically verbally barfs and posts something with the title “random” and within fifteen seconds has about 20 comments. Wish I had wranglers, a sexy ass, and an aura that screams rugged.
Anyhow that is the same style employed in what follows. Random.
Today Lindsay I went to Dr. appt. number 2. We got to hear the baby’s heart beat. Man that was a trip. The kid is real.
Went to Circuit City to buy the Zoo Tour DVD which is being released for the first time ever on DVD. Found it on the shelf and went to ask why it was priced two dollars higher than I saw it on the internet. Answer…”Oh, sorry that actually isn’t for sale until tomorrow. We just put it on the shelf or people to see. Don’t worry the sale price goes into effect tomorrow.” At least they are finally going to release it. Keep your fingers crossed for the 1997 Pop Mart, live from Mexico City DVD.
I preach a sermon for my class on Wednesday. I’ve been preparing for about a week now. I keep envisioning myself giving it and I keep trying to be like Gideon in my head. I’m afraid this may end in disaster and a bunch of moments where I try and be humorous only to have crowd stare at me blankly. Maybe you could pray for me for that.
Watching Letterman right now. Rupert G. is on. Love that guy.
O.K. I’m finished writing
Monday, September 18, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
predictable?
There are about three ways I know of in which open theists suggest that God comes by the knowledge he does have of the future. One of them is through knowing agents who have characters that have become completely solidified and thus the truth value of the counterfactual of creaturely freedom is no longer understood as “might or might not,” but rather as the molonists suggest “would or would not.”
I’ve often wondered how a truly libertarian free agent could ever reach a point where she is completely predictable, but recently I was the subject of a incident that demonstrates precisely just that.
Every morning the last one to leave the house has three jobs. Turn of the Early Show, set the thermostat, and set the alarm. This last Friday I left first, but to be helpful decided to undertake two of the tasks. I turned of the T.V. and made my way to the thermostat. When I got there I added some typical sound effects to my action. By typical I mean that I’ll often add sound effects to my simple duties, but not typical in the sense that I’ve ever added this particular sound effect to this action. Anyhow, as I turned up the thermostat three degrees I offered the onomapopoeia “beep, beep, beep” indicating that the temperature had been raised three degrees. Realizing the thermostat now read 84 degrees instead of 81 degrees I quickly realized that it had already been raised by my wife. Naturally, I lowered the temperature three degrees and again offered my narration, “Beep, beep, beep.”
Now my wife who was in our bathroom clear across the house somehow figures out exactly what I am doing and yells, “I already set the thermostat.” Dumbfounded I’ll peaked around the corner to see if she was looking. Nope, just as I suspected she was still in the bathroom. Somehow, I guess being married for the past two years, I’ve become so predictable that she can tell what I’m doing by listening for my sporadic noises.
Crazy, I figure this makes Boyd et. all’s tenet more plausible.
I’ve often wondered how a truly libertarian free agent could ever reach a point where she is completely predictable, but recently I was the subject of a incident that demonstrates precisely just that.
Every morning the last one to leave the house has three jobs. Turn of the Early Show, set the thermostat, and set the alarm. This last Friday I left first, but to be helpful decided to undertake two of the tasks. I turned of the T.V. and made my way to the thermostat. When I got there I added some typical sound effects to my action. By typical I mean that I’ll often add sound effects to my simple duties, but not typical in the sense that I’ve ever added this particular sound effect to this action. Anyhow, as I turned up the thermostat three degrees I offered the onomapopoeia “beep, beep, beep” indicating that the temperature had been raised three degrees. Realizing the thermostat now read 84 degrees instead of 81 degrees I quickly realized that it had already been raised by my wife. Naturally, I lowered the temperature three degrees and again offered my narration, “Beep, beep, beep.”
Now my wife who was in our bathroom clear across the house somehow figures out exactly what I am doing and yells, “I already set the thermostat.” Dumbfounded I’ll peaked around the corner to see if she was looking. Nope, just as I suspected she was still in the bathroom. Somehow, I guess being married for the past two years, I’ve become so predictable that she can tell what I’m doing by listening for my sporadic noises.
Crazy, I figure this makes Boyd et. all’s tenet more plausible.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
shot guns and pick up trucks
I’ve been working for the city for about 3 months now. One thing it has done is give me significant insight into the blue-collar community. Growing up I more or less socially scorned them and their practices thinking that they were somewhat Bush league. There is a website where you can type in your zip code and it gives a few words that describe the demographic make up of the area. If you put in 54487, where I grew up, you get the description "shot guns and pick up trucks." Needless to say, growing up in this community colored my experience and opinon. Like all people though, once you know one, your opinion generally changes. I used to wonder why they could all stand around a truck for ten minutes talking about one guys dog story, or about how one guy had to fix his water heater.
The truth is they need community just like we do at UBC. The truth also is, they do community very well. When one of them leaves, they mourn. When one of them gets hurt they get concerned. When one of them gets promoted, they celebrate.
I was tickled and taught by a conversation that ignored radio etiquette this last Monday, as I was patrolling. One of the maintenance guys gave instructions to the other over a radio. Then after about a minute after they had exchanged their have a good day I’m going home dialogue, the one guy comes back on the radio and asks in a tentative tone, “Hey, XXXX, how is your wife doing?”
I learn stuff from the blue-collar folks and if I’m honest I guess I’m one of now. They have a deep appreciation for life. I think they genuinely enjoy a lot of the simple things that I miss. I’ve actually inaugurated, well not me alone necessarily, we’ll say I’ve decided to participate in my own blue-collar practice of late. I meet with a couple of friends for happy hour on Friday afternoons. I hope I get as good at bullshiting about the same seemingly insignificant material. There is something magical about the way they live and enjoy life, and I’m going to figure out what it is.
The truth is they need community just like we do at UBC. The truth also is, they do community very well. When one of them leaves, they mourn. When one of them gets hurt they get concerned. When one of them gets promoted, they celebrate.
I was tickled and taught by a conversation that ignored radio etiquette this last Monday, as I was patrolling. One of the maintenance guys gave instructions to the other over a radio. Then after about a minute after they had exchanged their have a good day I’m going home dialogue, the one guy comes back on the radio and asks in a tentative tone, “Hey, XXXX, how is your wife doing?”
I learn stuff from the blue-collar folks and if I’m honest I guess I’m one of now. They have a deep appreciation for life. I think they genuinely enjoy a lot of the simple things that I miss. I’ve actually inaugurated, well not me alone necessarily, we’ll say I’ve decided to participate in my own blue-collar practice of late. I meet with a couple of friends for happy hour on Friday afternoons. I hope I get as good at bullshiting about the same seemingly insignificant material. There is something magical about the way they live and enjoy life, and I’m going to figure out what it is.
Monday, September 04, 2006
different cowboy hats
Last night Lindsay and I joined my brother and sister-in-law for some Labor Day fireworks and carnival type fun. It was put on by their church, which is nothing less than what I characterize as a mega-church. I’ve gotten cynical of such institutions, probably because of my post-secondary educational experience. So I went with a bit of skepticism.
When I got there my expectations were disappointed by friendly people, great organization, and a good time. While I was sitting watching the fire works, ignoring the conflation of God and country, I thought to myself, “is this a good mission for a church?” It is a highly suburbanized population that brings in other suburbanized people. I’m not sure that this is anything to be cynical about. After all, the gospel makes no qualification about which people bring the gospel to which people. Bottom line the church is creating a place for families to be, and in the process getting other families involved.
Here’s part of the reason I’ve lost my cynicism of such institutions. My good friend and co-worker Lanny tells me that we all go to cowboy churches, it’s just that we wear different hats. This comment came at the end of a lengthy discussion we had about how dumb we thought it was that they would have a church just for cowboys. I’m mean what’s next, a church for stockbrokers, one for shoe salesmen etc. The conclusion we came to is characterized by Lanny’s statement.
I go to a cowboy church. At my church the cowboys are mostly 18-35 and somewhat cynical about the institutional church. At Antioch, the cowboys raise their hands and have a unique zeal, at Dayspring the cowboys like it sacred and simple, and at 1st Baptist the cowboys like it traditional with ties. At my brother’s church, the cowboys love their families, are deeply convicted about the things they do believe, are trying hard to figure out what it means to follow Jesus, and put a lot of energy into serving their community.
I’m going to try and be less cynical.
On a different note, I’m saddened by the loss of Steve Irwin. I’ve been thinking about why I might care about his death a little more than other celebrity’s. I think Steve embodied a passion that was contagious. I never saw a moment of him on the camera where he wasn’t genuine about his love for his family, animals, or conservation. He was very likable and he will be missed. Thanks for the memories Steve.
When I got there my expectations were disappointed by friendly people, great organization, and a good time. While I was sitting watching the fire works, ignoring the conflation of God and country, I thought to myself, “is this a good mission for a church?” It is a highly suburbanized population that brings in other suburbanized people. I’m not sure that this is anything to be cynical about. After all, the gospel makes no qualification about which people bring the gospel to which people. Bottom line the church is creating a place for families to be, and in the process getting other families involved.
Here’s part of the reason I’ve lost my cynicism of such institutions. My good friend and co-worker Lanny tells me that we all go to cowboy churches, it’s just that we wear different hats. This comment came at the end of a lengthy discussion we had about how dumb we thought it was that they would have a church just for cowboys. I’m mean what’s next, a church for stockbrokers, one for shoe salesmen etc. The conclusion we came to is characterized by Lanny’s statement.
I go to a cowboy church. At my church the cowboys are mostly 18-35 and somewhat cynical about the institutional church. At Antioch, the cowboys raise their hands and have a unique zeal, at Dayspring the cowboys like it sacred and simple, and at 1st Baptist the cowboys like it traditional with ties. At my brother’s church, the cowboys love their families, are deeply convicted about the things they do believe, are trying hard to figure out what it means to follow Jesus, and put a lot of energy into serving their community.
I’m going to try and be less cynical.
On a different note, I’m saddened by the loss of Steve Irwin. I’ve been thinking about why I might care about his death a little more than other celebrity’s. I think Steve embodied a passion that was contagious. I never saw a moment of him on the camera where he wasn’t genuine about his love for his family, animals, or conservation. He was very likable and he will be missed. Thanks for the memories Steve.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
satruday afternoon thought
My favorite chick flick of all time is “You’ve Got Mail.” I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I love just about everything in that movie. I like Tom Hanks boat, I love the bookshop, I love Meg Ryan’s apartment, I love New York but most of all I love the dialogue.
I think this is interesting too. Throughout the movie both main characters identify reasons why they couldn’t be with each other, yet at the movie’s conclusion they both find out that indeed they could love each other and in fact do.
This reveals something I’m often guilty of. I couldn’t even count the number of times anymore where I initially judge a person and as I get to know them find out just how likable they are and how wrong I was. Hopefully I won’t get it wrong forever.
I think this is interesting too. Throughout the movie both main characters identify reasons why they couldn’t be with each other, yet at the movie’s conclusion they both find out that indeed they could love each other and in fact do.
This reveals something I’m often guilty of. I couldn’t even count the number of times anymore where I initially judge a person and as I get to know them find out just how likable they are and how wrong I was. Hopefully I won’t get it wrong forever.
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