Monday, April 30, 2007
Disciple -- 'I Just Know'
Tip of the cowboy hat to Ronholio for turnin' me on to this tune.
Ronholio also provided the lyrics, knowin' that my mostly countryfied ears might not be able to understand 'em just by listening:
(Authors provide biblical references)
I just know Jesus is the way
I just know Jesus is the truth
I just know Jesus is the life
I know that Jesus is my God (John 14:6)
what makes you different from one another
why do you argue about who you follow
there is no man that you belong to
there's only one God that can claim you (1 Corinthians 3:5-7)
I don't care if you don't speak in tongues (1 Corinthians 13:1)
I don't care if you're into submersion (Matthew 3:16)
what does it matter if wear a liturgical robe or prophesy
and say God said so (1 John 4:1)
I just know Jesus is the way
I just know Jesus is the truth
I just know Jesus is the life
I know that Jesus is my God (John 14:6)
do you serve your name or do you serve mankind
would you feel the same if they took down your sign
could you sit next to me if I was Baptist or Presbyterian
or do I need to be a charismatic or Episcopalian (Acts 2:17)
I don't care if you drink grape juice or if it's wine (Matthew 26:27- 29)
and I don't care if you get out of church on time
what does it matter if you praise God with music in your church (Psalm 150)
or you burn your dead or bury them six feet in the dirt
I don't care if you clap your hands (Psalm 47:1)
I don't care if you get out in the aisle and dance (Psalm 149:3)
what's it matter if someone lets out a hallelujah shout (Psalm 100:1)
have we forgotten what praising Yahweh is all about
Not my usual style, but I like it. Not about theology. Not about doctrine. Not about an issue. It's about Jesus. Awesome.
And hey, my inner child is a mullet-headed longhair.
--ER
Ronholio also provided the lyrics, knowin' that my mostly countryfied ears might not be able to understand 'em just by listening:
(Authors provide biblical references)
I just know Jesus is the way
I just know Jesus is the truth
I just know Jesus is the life
I know that Jesus is my God (John 14:6)
what makes you different from one another
why do you argue about who you follow
there is no man that you belong to
there's only one God that can claim you (1 Corinthians 3:5-7)
I don't care if you don't speak in tongues (1 Corinthians 13:1)
I don't care if you're into submersion (Matthew 3:16)
what does it matter if wear a liturgical robe or prophesy
and say God said so (1 John 4:1)
I just know Jesus is the way
I just know Jesus is the truth
I just know Jesus is the life
I know that Jesus is my God (John 14:6)
do you serve your name or do you serve mankind
would you feel the same if they took down your sign
could you sit next to me if I was Baptist or Presbyterian
or do I need to be a charismatic or Episcopalian (Acts 2:17)
I don't care if you drink grape juice or if it's wine (Matthew 26:27- 29)
and I don't care if you get out of church on time
what does it matter if you praise God with music in your church (Psalm 150)
or you burn your dead or bury them six feet in the dirt
I don't care if you clap your hands (Psalm 47:1)
I don't care if you get out in the aisle and dance (Psalm 149:3)
what's it matter if someone lets out a hallelujah shout (Psalm 100:1)
have we forgotten what praising Yahweh is all about
Not my usual style, but I like it. Not about theology. Not about doctrine. Not about an issue. It's about Jesus. Awesome.
And hey, my inner child is a mullet-headed longhair.
--ER
Brad Henry, Brad Henry, with a veto hammer in his hand, does right by the common man
Score one, a big one, for the little guy, at least for now ...
OKLAHOMA CITY (AP) -- Gov. Brad Henry on Saturday vetoed a sweeping civil justice measure that would have changed the way negligence and medical malpractice lawsuits are filed and litigated in state courts.
Read all about it.
--ER
OKLAHOMA CITY (AP) -- Gov. Brad Henry on Saturday vetoed a sweeping civil justice measure that would have changed the way negligence and medical malpractice lawsuits are filed and litigated in state courts.
Read all about it.
--ER
Sunday, April 29, 2007
It all makes so much more sense
See the man; shots fired
Cops came. Major jam session. Haven't picked and grinned like that in 8 or 9 years. Ronimal, ya shoulda been there. I got blisters on my fingas! Been 20 years since I was a party where the law turned out!
Oh, the cops came because My Littler Nephew (he's 43) shot off some fireworks. Later he shot off his mouth -- ha ha. Just kidding. We both did. Hey, Mr. Dickel likes to get the politics riled plumb up!
I'm at a motel in Mesquite, Texas, fixin' to go try to find Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas, to visit Mister Big Big Sister, who is recovering nicely from heart surgery.
--ER
Oh, the cops came because My Littler Nephew (he's 43) shot off some fireworks. Later he shot off his mouth -- ha ha. Just kidding. We both did. Hey, Mr. Dickel likes to get the politics riled plumb up!
I'm at a motel in Mesquite, Texas, fixin' to go try to find Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas, to visit Mister Big Big Sister, who is recovering nicely from heart surgery.
--ER
Saturday, April 28, 2007
John Edwards thinks before he speaks
Why are people making fun of this? He thought first, rather than blurting out a canned answer. What's the deal?
Now, I'm GTT.
--ER
Now, I'm GTT.
--ER
Welcome, Drlobojo! ... and GTT again!
1. Welcome, to Blogland, Drlobojo! It's about damn time!2. Woo hoo! I am off, with good RW friend K. Kat, also known as Oklahoma Mountain Haint (see pic), to Seagoville, Texas (map), to partay with the Dallas Ranch Branch of the extended ER Family. The partay is at the home of Big Big Sister's youngest son, My Littler Nephew, who is a year older than me (I love that; I was born an uncle!) and his significant other, Wicked Sweet Boston Gal. (See this use of wicked, which I first heard from Bird's YankeeBeau). My Littler Nephew and Wicked Sweet Boston Gal are celebratin' their havin' visited all 50 states. How cool is that?
3. Go check out Drlobojo's blog!
--ER
Friday, April 27, 2007
Well, duh!
| Your Vocabulary Score: A- |
 Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person. |
Defend Dr. Dobson against Doonesbury lies
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Mr. Dr. ER? Or the Rev. ER?
When I started this humble blog in the fall of ought-4, at first it was just "Erudite Redneck." Before long, bein' as how I was in the throes of my last semester of grad school, I stuck "B.S., B.S. (M.A.)" in the header to signify my two bachelor's degrees, journalism (news editorial) and political science (public affairs), and my soon-to-be-completed master's degree in history. The parentheses came off the day I walked across the stage and got that extra sheepskin, at age 40. Now, I face the potentially enjoyable prospect of returnin' yet again to the ivory towers. I mean, it could happen. This whole movin'-to-Colorado thing is such a radical departure from what I've been doin' the past 20 years -- daily news and editing and weekly commentary, in Texas and in Oklahoma -- that I might as well go for it. (That was my senior class motto in high school: "Go For It!" We were not very creative. But we did, most of us, work hard, and play hard.)
So, what to do?The biggest part of me wants to go on for the Ph.D in history, if I'm able. The University of Colorado's program is very competitive. But so am I, and I have a pretty dang hefty resume/c.v.
The downside: There is no market for Ph.D's in history, and I almost assuredly would make less money after completing the thing, if I tried to use it in the classroom, than I make now. On the other, although I did enjoy having charge of political science lab for a semester back in the day, teaching is not why I got the M.A. I got it to gain the ability, and the bare minimum credential, to research and write history.
But another part of me, almost as big, wants to go to seminary. Go ahead and laugh. In the real world, everybody laughs, involuntarily, in my face, when I tell them of my interest in theological studies, so it's OK if y'all do, too. Really. It seems crazy to me, too.But, I am interested. My mission field? The Christian Alumni Association -- those who have "graduated" from the faith, they think, to a more rational, secular view of life, those who have abandoned their faith, actually, when what they really just needed to do was update their views of the church, church traditions, the Bible and, well, most doctrines as handed down to us by our Christian forefathers and foremothers. Iliff School of Theology is in Denver, and from everything I've read about it, it's right up my alley.
The job market there is better. There is no glut of ministers in the mainline churches. At least I don't think there is. Then again, it's research and writing that mainly interests me, academic thrology, not necesarrily ministering in the usual sense.
On the other hand, there's, you know, the whole God thing. She/He wants me to have a job, I'll get a job.
But that would be true of a Rev. ER *or* a Mr. Dr. ER (not to be confused, see, with Dr. ER).
Discuss. :-)
--ER
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
'**^$^&@#@!!!,' ... in Jesus's name
By The Erudite Redneck
When I was a young teen ER, somebody at church told me to think of the prayer tagline "in Jesus's name," as postage. Sort of a Christian version of Shakespeare, from Hamlet:
"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; words without thoughts never to heaven go." (Hamlet, III, iii, 101-103)
In other words, I was taught that only Christians' prayers are heard, actually, only Christian prayers prayed in the right way -- which I now believe is bad doctrine, bad theology and bad form.
Now, I do still consciously pray in Jesus's name. Why? Because I am a Christian, and that's what Christians do. I also, though, have retained an odd habit that would sound terrible to anyone who heard what goes through my mind.
Let's say I cuss -- and Lord knows I do cuss. I've worked on quitting since fifth grade. Years and years ago, I got into the habit of following cussing by breathing a quick prayer:
"Lord, forgive me. In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
Yep. That's a lot of angsting over a damn or a s--t. Even for the more than occasional f---. So be it. It's my habit.
I've known odder habits.
A Pentecostal boss of mine used to say, "Whenever an evil thought pops into your head, just reach in there and grab it it and throw it back to the devil!" -- and he would literally reach up to his forehead and pretend to grab a thought out of his head and fling it away. A lot. It was a radio station, and he also used to lay hands on the audio board every day. That's OK. Whatever. His tradition, not mine.
But here's what really goes on in my head: "You f---ing moron!" I'll scream at traffic, or just think it -- and, in a hurry I'll gloss right over the prayer and segue directly into "in the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
So what actually transpires in my mind is the following: "You f---ing moron! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"S--t! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"Damn it to hell! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"Son of a b----! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
It's terrible, I know, which is why I am grateful every day for God's love and grace and obvious sense of humor.
This came to mind when I saw this cool poem by Alan Berecka in the current issue of The Christian Century. (Order Alan's chapbook here.) He picked up a similar kind of habit.
God's radio
In Religious Ed a nun once told us,
"You should always make the sign of the cross
before and after you pray. The first gesture
opens God's wavelength; the second shuts it off."
I wonder if the sister knew how many nights
I would lie in bed, panicked, wide awake
unable to remember if I had signaled
"Roger and out." Odds or evens -- heaven
or hell. I crossed myself without stopping,
hoping to land on evens or at least to interrupt
the feed before memories of Linda Ursoni's
blouse and her fully developed fifth grade breasts
bubbled forth from the back of my pubescent mind.
Even as an adult, I find myself playing
the same game, while hoping that someday
I might cross myself one last time and be done
with it, but the deep need to hide always follows --
in the name of the Father, and of the Son ...
How cool.
How about yourself? Any prayer-related pnemonics or other mind tricks lingering in your habits from childhood?
I *still* pray, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to take."
'Fess up. It's good for the soul. :-)
--ER
When I was a young teen ER, somebody at church told me to think of the prayer tagline "in Jesus's name," as postage. Sort of a Christian version of Shakespeare, from Hamlet:
"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; words without thoughts never to heaven go." (Hamlet, III, iii, 101-103)
In other words, I was taught that only Christians' prayers are heard, actually, only Christian prayers prayed in the right way -- which I now believe is bad doctrine, bad theology and bad form.
Now, I do still consciously pray in Jesus's name. Why? Because I am a Christian, and that's what Christians do. I also, though, have retained an odd habit that would sound terrible to anyone who heard what goes through my mind.
Let's say I cuss -- and Lord knows I do cuss. I've worked on quitting since fifth grade. Years and years ago, I got into the habit of following cussing by breathing a quick prayer:
"Lord, forgive me. In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
Yep. That's a lot of angsting over a damn or a s--t. Even for the more than occasional f---. So be it. It's my habit.
I've known odder habits.
A Pentecostal boss of mine used to say, "Whenever an evil thought pops into your head, just reach in there and grab it it and throw it back to the devil!" -- and he would literally reach up to his forehead and pretend to grab a thought out of his head and fling it away. A lot. It was a radio station, and he also used to lay hands on the audio board every day. That's OK. Whatever. His tradition, not mine.
But here's what really goes on in my head: "You f---ing moron!" I'll scream at traffic, or just think it -- and, in a hurry I'll gloss right over the prayer and segue directly into "in the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
So what actually transpires in my mind is the following: "You f---ing moron! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"S--t! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"Damn it to hell! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
"Son of a b----! In the name of the Lord Jesus, the Christ, I pray, Amen."
It's terrible, I know, which is why I am grateful every day for God's love and grace and obvious sense of humor.
This came to mind when I saw this cool poem by Alan Berecka in the current issue of The Christian Century. (Order Alan's chapbook here.) He picked up a similar kind of habit.
God's radio
In Religious Ed a nun once told us,
"You should always make the sign of the cross
before and after you pray. The first gesture
opens God's wavelength; the second shuts it off."
I wonder if the sister knew how many nights
I would lie in bed, panicked, wide awake
unable to remember if I had signaled
"Roger and out." Odds or evens -- heaven
or hell. I crossed myself without stopping,
hoping to land on evens or at least to interrupt
the feed before memories of Linda Ursoni's
blouse and her fully developed fifth grade breasts
bubbled forth from the back of my pubescent mind.
Even as an adult, I find myself playing
the same game, while hoping that someday
I might cross myself one last time and be done
with it, but the deep need to hide always follows --
in the name of the Father, and of the Son ...
How cool.
How about yourself? Any prayer-related pnemonics or other mind tricks lingering in your habits from childhood?
I *still* pray, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to take."
'Fess up. It's good for the soul. :-)
--ER
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Great pic of Ice-T -- oh, & Dr. ER blogs
Bill Moyers in The Christian Century
The Christian Century: If the Bush administration were to ask you for your advice, what would you say to them?
Bill Moyers: Well, I did give President Bush advice once: on a broadcast I urged him to make Al Gore head of homeland security—in other words, turn our response to the terrorist attacks into a bipartisan effort, make the fight against terroism an American cause, not a partisan battle cry.
What would I say now? Fire the ideologues and assign them to scrub the floors at Guantánamo for penitence. Stop confusing neocon pundits with Old Testament prophets. Read the Bible for humility's sake, but for policy's sake commit to memory the report of the Iraq Study Group. Don't sacrifice any more soldiers to prove you're in charge; get the soldiers out of the line of fire between Sunnis and Shi'ites. And remind your hirelings of Winston Churchill's definition of democracy as the occasional necessity of deferring to the opinions of other people.
Read the whole blessed thing.
--ER
Bill Moyers: Well, I did give President Bush advice once: on a broadcast I urged him to make Al Gore head of homeland security—in other words, turn our response to the terrorist attacks into a bipartisan effort, make the fight against terroism an American cause, not a partisan battle cry.
What would I say now? Fire the ideologues and assign them to scrub the floors at Guantánamo for penitence. Stop confusing neocon pundits with Old Testament prophets. Read the Bible for humility's sake, but for policy's sake commit to memory the report of the Iraq Study Group. Don't sacrifice any more soldiers to prove you're in charge; get the soldiers out of the line of fire between Sunnis and Shi'ites. And remind your hirelings of Winston Churchill's definition of democracy as the occasional necessity of deferring to the opinions of other people.
Read the whole blessed thing.
--ER
How smart our Bird is
This is the weather right now, at 2:21 p.m., in Oklahoma. Oklahoma State University is smack-dab under that biggest blob of red to the north. I sit about 50 miles south-southwest, under some more of the red. Bird, 21, my redheaded redneck stepchild, who is a junior at Oklahoma State, just called and excitedly told me that, with news that hail as big around as Copenhagen cans is headed for Stillwater, she grabbed the tacos she'd just made for herself out of the oven, stuck the dogs in their cage, and jumped in YankeeBeau's new car, an ought-6 Chrsyler Sebring, to find a place to pull under, since they live in an apartment with no carports.
So did everyone else in town. She said every car wash and gas station had people in cars up under their canopies.
Bird was not deterred.
Bird, who is known far and wide for her ability to sidle up to complete strangers and sweet-talk them into giving her what she wants, sidled herself and the car up to an auto glass repair shop of all places, runs in and explained that hail as big as tennis balls was a-comin' and they just bought that purty car two weeks ago and could she pull up inside their shop until the storm has passed.The redheaded Bird bein' very persuasive, and cute as a bug besides, found safe harbor, then called me to tell the tale while munchin' on tacos, listenin' to the weather on the radio and worryin' that if a tornado hits their apartment house, the dogs, Fenway and Apollo, will be goners.
--ER
Monday, April 23, 2007
Sen. Harry Reid throws down the gauntlet
I am proud of the role the Senate and the House are playing in this historic debate. It is a constructive -- and long overdue -- effort to put some spine in our policy.
Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid said that. And I second it.
Sen. Reid throws down the gauntlet over Iraq.
--ER
Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid said that. And I second it.
Sen. Reid throws down the gauntlet over Iraq.
--ER
Another one under the knife
:::ANOTHER UPDATE: Noon, Tuesday, April 24: ANOTHER UPDATE:::
Mister Big Big Sister is having some trouble breathing, but is on oxygen. Can get just little sips of air. Big Brudder agrees with me that it might just be the air they leave in your body cavity, which takes time to dissipate. "Hey ain't real perky, but he's doin' all right," Big Brudder reports. (He talks like me, with dropped g's and gratuitous apostrophes and all.)
:::END UPDATE: Noon, TUESDAY APRIL 24: END UPDATE:::
:::UPDATE:::
Mister Big Big Sister is out of surgery and seems fine.
Funny, with Mama ER, most of the extended ER family actually kept up with her progress, then sad decline, by reading it here. (For any newcomers: Hopeful beginning. And, sad ending.)
With Mister Big Big Sister, by the time anything gets posted here, it'll be about as timely to any family members as last week's county paper.
But, update I will, for the benefit of the ER Prayer-Good Karma-Cool Vibes-Happy-Happy Thought Warriors, who so upheld me during the Mama ER ordeal! Gee, y'all are swell! :-)
:::END UPDATE:::
Mister Big Big Sister, my brother-in-law, has triple heart bypass surgery today in Dallas.
I asked him yesterday evening if he was celebrating life with a big ol' brisket. He said he opted for a ribye.
"I figured the doctor ought to smell some kind of fatty meat when he cut into me!" he said, or something close. "It'll be the last I can have for quite awhile.
That is a sad fact.
Heart trouble is just a way of life in Oklahoma and Texas. Cattle Country. Mister Big Big Sister grew up in Oklahoma and lives in Texas. The cultural and agricultural dietary cards are stacked against him.
Your prayers, karma, good vibes, happy-happy thoughts, please, for Big Big Sister and Mister Big Big Sister. Direct them to Dallas and Terrell, Texas.
--ER
Mister Big Big Sister is having some trouble breathing, but is on oxygen. Can get just little sips of air. Big Brudder agrees with me that it might just be the air they leave in your body cavity, which takes time to dissipate. "Hey ain't real perky, but he's doin' all right," Big Brudder reports. (He talks like me, with dropped g's and gratuitous apostrophes and all.)
:::END UPDATE: Noon, TUESDAY APRIL 24: END UPDATE:::
:::UPDATE:::
Mister Big Big Sister is out of surgery and seems fine.
Funny, with Mama ER, most of the extended ER family actually kept up with her progress, then sad decline, by reading it here. (For any newcomers: Hopeful beginning. And, sad ending.)
With Mister Big Big Sister, by the time anything gets posted here, it'll be about as timely to any family members as last week's county paper.
But, update I will, for the benefit of the ER Prayer-Good Karma-Cool Vibes-Happy-Happy Thought Warriors, who so upheld me during the Mama ER ordeal! Gee, y'all are swell! :-)
:::END UPDATE:::
Mister Big Big Sister, my brother-in-law, has triple heart bypass surgery today in Dallas.
I asked him yesterday evening if he was celebrating life with a big ol' brisket. He said he opted for a ribye.
"I figured the doctor ought to smell some kind of fatty meat when he cut into me!" he said, or something close. "It'll be the last I can have for quite awhile.
That is a sad fact.
Heart trouble is just a way of life in Oklahoma and Texas. Cattle Country. Mister Big Big Sister grew up in Oklahoma and lives in Texas. The cultural and agricultural dietary cards are stacked against him.
Your prayers, karma, good vibes, happy-happy thoughts, please, for Big Big Sister and Mister Big Big Sister. Direct them to Dallas and Terrell, Texas.
--ER
Sunday, April 22, 2007
29 vs. 3; Cho vs. the world; Us vs. Them
I confess that I have not been the best example of living peacefully among men. Or women. Especially my own redheads. I get mad, and I run my mouth, and it can be as hurtful to those around me as a sock in the gut. Awareness is the first step to correction, they say, but it is a long one.
Jeff Gordon won the NASCAR race at Phoenix last night. It was his 76th win, and it tied him with the late Dale Earnhardt, an eventuality that most, if not all, Earnhardt fans were dreading.
'Cause if you're into NASCAR, fans of Jeffy-Poo Gordon and The Intimidator are like oil and water. Oh, really, it's more like those of the same family being of different political or religious bents. But they are them, and we are us, and that's true no matter which driver you root for.
Last night, when Gordon won, he came back around to the start-finish line, where a crew member handed him a flag with the familiar Earnhardt No. 3 on the familiar black background. I was stunned. Seeing the rainbow car carrying the No. 3 was as strange as seeing a painting of troops under U.S. Grant hoisting a Rebel battle flag.
But I was touched. I saw it as a tribute. And I believe Gordon when he says that was his intent.I called Dr. ER, who had not seen it, and she sort of dismissed it. "Well, (Jeffy-Poo) is still (Jeffy-poo)." I mean, she just wasn't impressed.
I called Bird, who had seen it, and she dismissed it as an example of oneupsmanship on Gordon's part. She thought Gordon was rubbing it in, gloating over his matching of Earnhardt's record, which he will surpass before long -- and being a young guy, will blow away over the years. She saw it as him "capturing the flag."
Not sure what my point is, other than this: If three people in the same family can so differently interpret something like this, then we all got a long way to go in this country before we start to get along with those we don't like.
Myself, I thought it was the classiest thing I'd ever seen Jeff Gordon do.
XXXXXXXXXX
Prayer of Confession today at my church:
Lord of Life, we grieve the senseless loss at Blacksburg and are called, once more, to ask difficult questions. What kind of world are we living in? What is a culture of violence and death doing to our children? Why are so many young people living in isolation and despair? To whom does Cho Seung-Hui belong? In the days ahead, we can expect to hear many voices telling us that grief is good, but change is dangerous. And this begs the real question: have we lost our souls? In this place, we will fear no question, and no special interest. In Christ's name we pray, Amen.
Possible solutions: Constitutional topic: The Second Amendment.
XXXXXXXXXX
And then there's this:
Lee Iacocca has had enough.
--ER
Saturday, April 21, 2007
'What if God Smoked Cannabis?'
:::UPDATED:::
Here's one of the videos.
I love it! (audio)
There are a couple of videos to go with this out there, but I couldn't get them to post. (Drlobojo: Yoda has a cameo in one of the vids!)
But: What if God smoked cannabis?
(... does he like Pearl Jam or the Stones? ...)
Obviously, if I thought this was sacrilegious, I wouldn't've posted it, although I know some people will think it mocking -- and it is! It mocks stupid laws and cultural mores that people pass off as "good" or "evil."
The day it's legal is the day I stand on the courthouse steps and fire one up for freedom. It's ludicrous that alcohol is legal in this country and pot isn't -- and what a potential source of tax revenue!
What about it? Our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit who resides within. We abuse it with red meat, too much food of any kind, alcohol, driving fast in heavy traffic, job stress, family angst and everything else.
Is there room for an occasional personal burnt offering in the Temple?
Lord, for the cannabis sativa we are about to receive, may we be truly thankful. Bless it to nourish our spirit and creativity, ease our muscles and cure our headaches.
Amen.
Discuss!
(Tip o' the cowboy hat to Jersey Cynic, who mentioned the song and video on this thread at Blondesense.)
--ER
Forget 'red' states and 'blue' states: Finally, the 'Greening' of America -- Hip, hip, hooray (times three) for the Green (Mountain) State
RSB, on mental illness
Go here and read some rare, reasonable remarks regarding young Cho of the Virginia Tech massacre, by Red State Blues of Blondesense.
Bottom line: The mentally ill are born, not made.
--ER
Bottom line: The mentally ill are born, not made.
--ER
Friday, April 20, 2007
Yes, I *do* stand for lawn order
Lordy, I got the screamin'-muscles-the-day-after-the-first-bout-with-mowin'-the-yard-and-weedin'-the-flower-beds-blues -- da dum, da dum!
But, I can hold my head up in the neighborhood and in Manworld again -- or, as I malapropped talkin' to Dr. ER on the phone last night, I can hold my man up in Headworld, to which she snorted, "I didn't know it had gotten that big."
Har har har.
The front yard was such a challenge because, one again, I have neglected my nuts. The new mower mulched 'em pretty good, but I'm going to have to give 'em a good scrapin' tomorrow.
There was a sad -- and gross moment -- out back, when I finally remembered to remove and discard the drip pan from my trusty Weber, which was plumb full and sloshy with goose grease from the last time I used the grill, which was before Mama took a turn for the worse.
That day, she was in a hospital suite, not just a room, and was alert and pretty much knew what was up. I'd told her all week that I was going to roast a goose for New Year's on my grill and bring her some, and she pooh-poohed the idea.
But when I brought it, she liked it in spite of herself, and actually ate quite a bit, enough to impress her nurse. And I'm stopping now because damn it to hell, I miss my mama.
Here. Go read Dr. ER's "Open Letter to President Bush." It's a repeat, but timelier than ever.
--ER
But, I can hold my head up in the neighborhood and in Manworld again -- or, as I malapropped talkin' to Dr. ER on the phone last night, I can hold my man up in Headworld, to which she snorted, "I didn't know it had gotten that big."
Har har har.
The front yard was such a challenge because, one again, I have neglected my nuts. The new mower mulched 'em pretty good, but I'm going to have to give 'em a good scrapin' tomorrow.
There was a sad -- and gross moment -- out back, when I finally remembered to remove and discard the drip pan from my trusty Weber, which was plumb full and sloshy with goose grease from the last time I used the grill, which was before Mama took a turn for the worse.
That day, she was in a hospital suite, not just a room, and was alert and pretty much knew what was up. I'd told her all week that I was going to roast a goose for New Year's on my grill and bring her some, and she pooh-poohed the idea.
But when I brought it, she liked it in spite of herself, and actually ate quite a bit, enough to impress her nurse. And I'm stopping now because damn it to hell, I miss my mama.
Here. Go read Dr. ER's "Open Letter to President Bush." It's a repeat, but timelier than ever.
--ER
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Hot dang! Gotta go shoppin'
To get one of these -- solid gold, darlin'.
And to get some of these -- ostrich, baby, ostrich!
Just call me Tex.
I mean, ah, Oak. Or Ark.
Mama done went and left us kids her interest in four -- count 'em, FOUR -- natural gas wells, partner. Daddy kept the mineral rights to 600-some-odd acres, see, and he left 'em to her, and she left 'em to us.
Yep, yep. Time to jine up with these folks, fer sure, so they can help pertect the vast wealth that is comin' our way from the famously productive Arkoma Basin.
Yee haw!
NOT.
LOL. Here's an example of the interest each of us has:
1/8 of 1/4 of 0.875/645.4 of a leasehold, for an interest of 0.00004237.
Ha! All four of 'em combined come to 0.00033894 interest.
I don't believe the annual return will pay for the stamp it'll take to mail the W-9.
But, dadgum, wouldn't I look dang spiffy in a pair of ostrich- or alligator-skin boots and a gaudy ol' nugget ring!
--ER
And to get some of these -- ostrich, baby, ostrich!
Just call me Tex.
I mean, ah, Oak. Or Ark.
Mama done went and left us kids her interest in four -- count 'em, FOUR -- natural gas wells, partner. Daddy kept the mineral rights to 600-some-odd acres, see, and he left 'em to her, and she left 'em to us.
Yep, yep. Time to jine up with these folks, fer sure, so they can help pertect the vast wealth that is comin' our way from the famously productive Arkoma Basin.
Yee haw!
NOT.
LOL. Here's an example of the interest each of us has:
1/8 of 1/4 of 0.875/645.4 of a leasehold, for an interest of 0.00004237.
Ha! All four of 'em combined come to 0.00033894 interest.
I don't believe the annual return will pay for the stamp it'll take to mail the W-9.
But, dadgum, wouldn't I look dang spiffy in a pair of ostrich- or alligator-skin boots and a gaudy ol' nugget ring!
--ER
Things that are out of control in ER's life
First, Mister Big Sister, my brother-in-law, has heart surgery on Monday. Triple bypass, in Dallas. Sigh.
Out of control:
My yard. I swear it looks like a pasture. I put down broadleaf herbicide, and it rained. And it almost hasn't stopped since. The only time it's dry is when I'm out of town. The HOA police are gonna come get me.
My flower beds. They look like weedy roadside ditches.
My house. It's just a goldarn warehouse now, especially since Monday when I retrieved a chaise lounge from Dr. ER's former office and there was nowhere to put it but between the futon and the No. 29 Nextel Cup Kevin Harvick right-rear Goodyear tire from Daytona.
My lil family. Dr. ER is back in Colorado. Bird and YankeeBeau are back at college. I'm all by my lonesome again.
My home office. I have to jump from the hallway to the chair behind my desk to get to the computer.
My garage. There is not a single flat surface where I can unbox and ready the new lawnmower we bought the other day.
My ----. I have a minor recurring over-the-counter-type health problem that is making life a challenge right now. "Boboitis." Damn desk jobs.
It's nothing that one good, DRY weekend could fix! Except for the Dr. ER and Mister Big Sister stuff.
--ER
Out of control:
My yard. I swear it looks like a pasture. I put down broadleaf herbicide, and it rained. And it almost hasn't stopped since. The only time it's dry is when I'm out of town. The HOA police are gonna come get me.
My flower beds. They look like weedy roadside ditches.
My house. It's just a goldarn warehouse now, especially since Monday when I retrieved a chaise lounge from Dr. ER's former office and there was nowhere to put it but between the futon and the No. 29 Nextel Cup Kevin Harvick right-rear Goodyear tire from Daytona.
My lil family. Dr. ER is back in Colorado. Bird and YankeeBeau are back at college. I'm all by my lonesome again.
My home office. I have to jump from the hallway to the chair behind my desk to get to the computer.
My garage. There is not a single flat surface where I can unbox and ready the new lawnmower we bought the other day.
My ----. I have a minor recurring over-the-counter-type health problem that is making life a challenge right now. "Boboitis." Damn desk jobs.
It's nothing that one good, DRY weekend could fix! Except for the Dr. ER and Mister Big Sister stuff.
--ER
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
EL's Thinking Man's Meme, aka, the 'Neil Young Tangents Meme'
Go here and read this wacky yet strangely satisfying meme that my fundy Christian righty buddy EL has come up with -- it's interesting and challenging.
I hereby open it up to any artist, not just Neil Young. Other rules remain the same. Your handiwork in the comments, please.
Mine:
Neil Young
"When God Made Me"
Was he thinkin' about my country
Or the color of my skin?
Was he thinkin' 'bout my religion
And the way I worshipped him?
Did he create just me in his image
Or every living thing?
When God made me
When God made me
Was he planning only for believers
Or for those who just have faith?
Did he envision all the wars
That were fought in his name?
Did he say there was only one way
To be close to him?
When God made me
When God made me
Did he give me the gift of love
To say who I could choose?
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
Did he give me the gift of voice
So some could silence me?
Did he give me the gift of vision
Not knowing what I might see?
Did he give me the gift of compassion
To help my fellow man?
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
Joan Osborne
“What if God Was One of Us”
If God had a name what would it be?
And would you call it to his face?
If you were faced with him
In all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?
*And yeah, yeah, God is great
Yeah, yeah, God is good
Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
If God had a face what would it look like?
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that
you would have to believe
in things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints
and all the prophets (*)
Trying to make his way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome(*)
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Nobody calling on the phone
'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome
G.O.D.
“The Road”
The road that I'm taking
Where it's leading me to, where it's taking me
Or where the final destination is
I have no idea, no clue, no answer
Yet I'm still following this path today
Has destiny already been determined for everyone
Or is it that we have to make our own destiny
Nothing's clear so far
Yet I'm still taking another step towards the road
[Chorus]
Why am I standing on this road
Is this path really destined for me
Would my dreams come true at the end of this road
What really gives me pleasure, money, honor
Or the people I love
I'm longing for the answer
Yet I still can't find one
Wanna say with confidence that this path is the right direction I'm heading
I do not want to look back, I want no regret
Just keep walking towards the end
Yet I still don't feel confident in my decision
[Chorus]
Why am I standing on this road
Is this path really destined for me
Would my dreams come true at the end of this road.
What am I really dreaming for
Who is this searching really for
Will I be able to finally smile when I reach the goal
(Oh) Where am I heading right now
And what is the reason for me to live
--ER
I hereby open it up to any artist, not just Neil Young. Other rules remain the same. Your handiwork in the comments, please.
Mine:
Neil Young
"When God Made Me"
Was he thinkin' about my country
Or the color of my skin?
Was he thinkin' 'bout my religion
And the way I worshipped him?
Did he create just me in his image
Or every living thing?
When God made me
When God made me
Was he planning only for believers
Or for those who just have faith?
Did he envision all the wars
That were fought in his name?
Did he say there was only one way
To be close to him?
When God made me
When God made me
Did he give me the gift of love
To say who I could choose?
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
Did he give me the gift of voice
So some could silence me?
Did he give me the gift of vision
Not knowing what I might see?
Did he give me the gift of compassion
To help my fellow man?
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
When God made me
Joan Osborne
“What if God Was One of Us”
If God had a name what would it be?
And would you call it to his face?
If you were faced with him
In all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?
*And yeah, yeah, God is great
Yeah, yeah, God is good
Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
If God had a face what would it look like?
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that
you would have to believe
in things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints
and all the prophets (*)
Trying to make his way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome(*)
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Nobody calling on the phone
'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome
G.O.D.
“The Road”
The road that I'm taking
Where it's leading me to, where it's taking me
Or where the final destination is
I have no idea, no clue, no answer
Yet I'm still following this path today
Has destiny already been determined for everyone
Or is it that we have to make our own destiny
Nothing's clear so far
Yet I'm still taking another step towards the road
[Chorus]
Why am I standing on this road
Is this path really destined for me
Would my dreams come true at the end of this road
What really gives me pleasure, money, honor
Or the people I love
I'm longing for the answer
Yet I still can't find one
Wanna say with confidence that this path is the right direction I'm heading
I do not want to look back, I want no regret
Just keep walking towards the end
Yet I still don't feel confident in my decision
[Chorus]
Why am I standing on this road
Is this path really destined for me
Would my dreams come true at the end of this road.
What am I really dreaming for
Who is this searching really for
Will I be able to finally smile when I reach the goal
(Oh) Where am I heading right now
And what is the reason for me to live
--ER
Monday, April 16, 2007
Scattershot thinking
Bird, when she lived in a dorm ... YankeeBeau in a classroom ... resident assistants as the first line of defense! ... guns in my own closet ... freedom comes with a price ... the coward who did it ... requiem for the dead ... prayers for the survivors ... I can't settle on one thought about the Virginia Tech shootings.
--ER
--ER
Saturday, April 14, 2007
On Harvick! On Junior! On Michael! On Tony! On Martin! On to the race! The ER family is G.T.T.!
Wow. Cold, with a threat of "wintry mix" as we leave. Tornado within spittin' distance of the track. Ain't spring fun? Sunny and in the 60s around Fort Worth by Sunday, they say. Woo hoo!
ER's driver: Kevin Harvick. Close-close second -- so close as to be almost indistinguishable: Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Dr. ER's driver: Junior.
Bird and YankeeBeau's driver: Junior.
YankeeBeau's second driver: Tony Stewart.
Family favorites: Michael Waltrip, Mark Martin.
(GTT).
--ER
Friday, April 13, 2007
Fixin' to git! Fixin' to be G.T.T.!
Dr. ER paid handsomely to fly in from Denver yesterday, rather than today, to avoid the monster snowfall forecast for the Denver area.
Didn't happen!
Dang weather anyway.
In the morning, Dr. ER and I, and Bird and YankeeBeau, and another couple, are road-tripping to Texas Motor Speedway for the Samsung 500 on Sunday.
The last forecast I saw for the Fort Worth area for Sunday was 60s and sunny. Here's hopin'!
BTW: If you have an actual used race car tire, specifically a discarded right rear tire from Kevin Harvick's car at Daytona, bought for you by a former Bird boyfriend, in your house, that's one thing.
But if you just noticed the other day that said tire, which has not left the house since you got it for Christmas a few years back, has somehow gotten mud on it, well, then, you might be a redneck.
--ER
Didn't happen!
Dang weather anyway.
In the morning, Dr. ER and I, and Bird and YankeeBeau, and another couple, are road-tripping to Texas Motor Speedway for the Samsung 500 on Sunday.
The last forecast I saw for the Fort Worth area for Sunday was 60s and sunny. Here's hopin'!
BTW: If you have an actual used race car tire, specifically a discarded right rear tire from Kevin Harvick's car at Daytona, bought for you by a former Bird boyfriend, in your house, that's one thing.
But if you just noticed the other day that said tire, which has not left the house since you got it for Christmas a few years back, has somehow gotten mud on it, well, then, you might be a redneck.
--ER
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Don Imus: martyr to hysteria
If he has to close down the ranch, and stop every other good thing he's done with his name and his welath, it will serve every self-righteous hypocrite right.
--ER
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
'The real obscenities in America'
Drlobojo sayeth:
Meanwhile the son of my best friend is starting training so that he and 3,500 other Oklahoma National Guard can go back to Iraq.
That's 3,500 Oklahoma families screwed again.
That's 3,500 jobs that will have to be "covered" or filled with temps.
That's roughly 60 Oklahomans that will die there in the near future.
And this doesn't count the 2000+ Oklahoma Reservists that already there.
Do you think these guys/gals really give a shit what Imus said?
Let's refocus on the real obscenities in America.
Let's start with the obscenities occupying the White House.
--ER
Meanwhile the son of my best friend is starting training so that he and 3,500 other Oklahoma National Guard can go back to Iraq.
That's 3,500 Oklahoma families screwed again.
That's 3,500 jobs that will have to be "covered" or filled with temps.
That's roughly 60 Oklahomans that will die there in the near future.
And this doesn't count the 2000+ Oklahoma Reservists that already there.
Do you think these guys/gals really give a shit what Imus said?
Let's refocus on the real obscenities in America.
Let's start with the obscenities occupying the White House.
--ER
Monday, April 09, 2007
I'm not sure I get the Imus thing
Was what Don Imus said racist because he used the term "nappy-headed," because he used the term "hos," or because he used them together?
It was stupid and mean. And I concede that it was racist -- but I'm not sure why.
And why isn't he being condemned for being sexist, while they're at it?
More importantly: Why is anybody surprised? The fun of Imus is that he pushes the envelope until it starts to break.
I don't know. Oh, I just heard on the TV that MSNBC has suspended him for two weeks. That sounds about right. But if I were him, I'd tell tell MSNBC and every hypocritical, politically correct fruitcake out there, starting with the Rev. Al Sharpton, to kiss my ass, then I'd go to satellite radio.
"Nappy-headed." freedictionary.com says: "Word not found in the Dictionary and Encyclopedia. Please try the words separatly."
Or, that's what it said 10 minutes ago. Now I can't get anything when I search for it. Wonder if this is why? These ads were on the page that came up for "nappy-headed":
Note: nappy-headed 0.02 sec.
Discover your African American roots with historical records.
Ancestry.com
Stevie Wonder
Access thousands of Images with Live.com Search—Celebrities & More
www.Live.com
Free Stevie Wonder Songs
Free Music Downloads! Get Your Favorite Songs Now. 100% Legal
www.EZ-Tracks.com
Wow.
Nappy.
Headed. (See definition No. 3)
Ho. (See definition 4, and the comment immediately below it.)
The whole hullabaloo made me think of the "Buffalo Soldiers," black soldiers who built Fort Sill, in present southwest Oklahoma, in 1869.
The origins of the nickname depends on who you ask. Buffalo weren't know for being particularly fierce fitghers, I don''t think, and the Indians were remarkably forthright with their use of language, from I know about it, which is some.
So, what exactly was Imus's offense? I concede that what he said was offensive. Racist even. But was it because of the nappy-headed or the hos?
And here's my take on it: We have got to get to where we can distinquish racism from rascist language, which, as volatile as it is, gets laughs when uttered by the right comedians in the right settings, which, in fact, is perpetuated in hip hop-rap culture and music, and which, in fact, is used by otherwise non-racist people who are sloppy and careless with language in certain niches of American culture, and probably always will be.
--ER
It was stupid and mean. And I concede that it was racist -- but I'm not sure why.
And why isn't he being condemned for being sexist, while they're at it?
More importantly: Why is anybody surprised? The fun of Imus is that he pushes the envelope until it starts to break.
I don't know. Oh, I just heard on the TV that MSNBC has suspended him for two weeks. That sounds about right. But if I were him, I'd tell tell MSNBC and every hypocritical, politically correct fruitcake out there, starting with the Rev. Al Sharpton, to kiss my ass, then I'd go to satellite radio.
"Nappy-headed." freedictionary.com says: "Word not found in the Dictionary and Encyclopedia. Please try the words separatly."
Or, that's what it said 10 minutes ago. Now I can't get anything when I search for it. Wonder if this is why? These ads were on the page that came up for "nappy-headed":
Note: nappy-headed 0.02 sec.
Discover your African American roots with historical records.
Ancestry.com
Stevie Wonder
Access thousands of Images with Live.com Search—Celebrities & More
www.Live.com
Free Stevie Wonder Songs
Free Music Downloads! Get Your Favorite Songs Now. 100% Legal
www.EZ-Tracks.com
Wow.
Nappy.
Headed. (See definition No. 3)
Ho. (See definition 4, and the comment immediately below it.)
The whole hullabaloo made me think of the "Buffalo Soldiers," black soldiers who built Fort Sill, in present southwest Oklahoma, in 1869.
The origins of the nickname depends on who you ask. Buffalo weren't know for being particularly fierce fitghers, I don''t think, and the Indians were remarkably forthright with their use of language, from I know about it, which is some.
So, what exactly was Imus's offense? I concede that what he said was offensive. Racist even. But was it because of the nappy-headed or the hos?
And here's my take on it: We have got to get to where we can distinquish racism from rascist language, which, as volatile as it is, gets laughs when uttered by the right comedians in the right settings, which, in fact, is perpetuated in hip hop-rap culture and music, and which, in fact, is used by otherwise non-racist people who are sloppy and careless with language in certain niches of American culture, and probably always will be.
--ER
Sunday, April 08, 2007
'Spirit of wisdom and revelation'
By The Erudite Redneck
When Mama died, I found myself grieving not only for her, but for my dad, who died in 1989. Double whammy.
Dr. ER left, and although it's temporary, I find myself not only missing her but missing Bird, who in this emotional mess I'm in, is still "Baby Bird." It hit me this morning on the way to church. She's not here to hide eggs for!
Now, we all had a little mini-Easter last weekend. And yesterday I bought myself a hamlet, some predeviled eggs and a dessert and some other things for today, and a chocolate rabbit, the ears of which were gone by the time of the first "Moses, Moses" last night.
But I miss Mama, who was the anchor of my own first family, and I miss Dr. ER, who is the anchor of my own little family.
But there's hope. There's always hope, which is not the same as optimism, and there's faith, which is not the same as superstition, and there's love, the perfect expression of which, in Yeshua of Nazareth, casts out fear and soothes sadness.
The Prayer of Confession this morning at this church:
Lord of Life, we come to this day knowing that it is not just another Sunday. It is our High Holy Day. We know that churches are crowded today, and that the music will be joyous. But we also know that the world is in need of healing and hope, and that we must do more than celebrate an ancient claim made by others. We must live the hope of the Resurrection. We must become Easter People. In the risen name of Christ we pray, Amen!
xxxxxxxxxx
"Tomorrow Will Be a Better Day"
by Josh Tittenberg, age 16
From the NPR "This I believe" series
A snippet: "I believe that ... that we will witness the time when AIDS is cured and cancer is defeated; when the Middle East will find peace and Africa grain, and the Cubs win the World Series -- probably only once. I will see things as inconceivable to me today as a moon shot was to my grandfather when he was 16, or the Internet to my father when he was 16."
Read, or listen to, it all.
xxxxxxxxxx
A friend and I were e-mailing about "sanctification" yesterday, generally regarded, I guess, as the next step after Christian "salvation."
I wrote to him:
At root, my own is this: It, like salvation itself, is wholly a gift from God through Christ, unmerited and unearned; to detect it in others is impossible; to assume that changes wrought in one's own life should be the same in others' life is a selfish assumption; the first fruit of sanctification, however, is the desire and ability to repent; repentance means turning from sin; all sin, at root, is based on living life on one's own, without God. That's all just off the top o' my head.
I asked him his concept, and he wrote back: "To become more like Christ."
Well, yeah. And then on the way to church this morning, I was think about what I'd written, and how I probably need to update some of my ideas of theology.
What *do* I believe about "sanctification," which is just a label for "what happens, in this life, to one who believes in and tries to follow Christ"?
And this is where it gets spooky, in a real Holy Spirity kind of way. It turns out that the Scripture reading this morning, from Ephesians, is a kind of summation of sanctification as I see it now. But first ...
Just this minute, I was looking on the United Church of Christ's Web site for some summary of "salvation." Here it is, as-is, from Ephesians: "God's Plan of Salvation." That's Ephesians 1: 3-14.
Now, here's the Scripture reading from church, which happened to be Ephesians 1: 15-18:
For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints ...
The bold part, that's sanctification.
A blessed Easter to all: He has risen.
Or, to put it in redneckese: "He done got up and hauled it out of here!"
--ER
When Mama died, I found myself grieving not only for her, but for my dad, who died in 1989. Double whammy.
Dr. ER left, and although it's temporary, I find myself not only missing her but missing Bird, who in this emotional mess I'm in, is still "Baby Bird." It hit me this morning on the way to church. She's not here to hide eggs for!
Now, we all had a little mini-Easter last weekend. And yesterday I bought myself a hamlet, some predeviled eggs and a dessert and some other things for today, and a chocolate rabbit, the ears of which were gone by the time of the first "Moses, Moses" last night.
But I miss Mama, who was the anchor of my own first family, and I miss Dr. ER, who is the anchor of my own little family.
But there's hope. There's always hope, which is not the same as optimism, and there's faith, which is not the same as superstition, and there's love, the perfect expression of which, in Yeshua of Nazareth, casts out fear and soothes sadness.
The Prayer of Confession this morning at this church:
Lord of Life, we come to this day knowing that it is not just another Sunday. It is our High Holy Day. We know that churches are crowded today, and that the music will be joyous. But we also know that the world is in need of healing and hope, and that we must do more than celebrate an ancient claim made by others. We must live the hope of the Resurrection. We must become Easter People. In the risen name of Christ we pray, Amen!
xxxxxxxxxx
"Tomorrow Will Be a Better Day"
by Josh Tittenberg, age 16
From the NPR "This I believe" series
A snippet: "I believe that ... that we will witness the time when AIDS is cured and cancer is defeated; when the Middle East will find peace and Africa grain, and the Cubs win the World Series -- probably only once. I will see things as inconceivable to me today as a moon shot was to my grandfather when he was 16, or the Internet to my father when he was 16."
Read, or listen to, it all.
xxxxxxxxxx
A friend and I were e-mailing about "sanctification" yesterday, generally regarded, I guess, as the next step after Christian "salvation."
I wrote to him:
At root, my own is this: It, like salvation itself, is wholly a gift from God through Christ, unmerited and unearned; to detect it in others is impossible; to assume that changes wrought in one's own life should be the same in others' life is a selfish assumption; the first fruit of sanctification, however, is the desire and ability to repent; repentance means turning from sin; all sin, at root, is based on living life on one's own, without God. That's all just off the top o' my head.
I asked him his concept, and he wrote back: "To become more like Christ."
Well, yeah. And then on the way to church this morning, I was think about what I'd written, and how I probably need to update some of my ideas of theology.
What *do* I believe about "sanctification," which is just a label for "what happens, in this life, to one who believes in and tries to follow Christ"?
And this is where it gets spooky, in a real Holy Spirity kind of way. It turns out that the Scripture reading this morning, from Ephesians, is a kind of summation of sanctification as I see it now. But first ...
Just this minute, I was looking on the United Church of Christ's Web site for some summary of "salvation." Here it is, as-is, from Ephesians: "God's Plan of Salvation." That's Ephesians 1: 3-14.
Now, here's the Scripture reading from church, which happened to be Ephesians 1: 15-18:
For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints ...
The bold part, that's sanctification.
A blessed Easter to all: He has risen.
Or, to put it in redneckese: "He done got up and hauled it out of here!"
--ER
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Presenting ... Fourth Grade-ipedia
Good for Saturday chuckles!
Conservapedia, apparently once described, until somebody thought better of it:
Conservapedia is a much-needed alternative to Wikipedia, which is increasingly anti-Christian and anti-American. On Wikipedia, many of the dates are provided in the anti-Christian "C.E." instead of "A.D.", which Conservapedia uses.
Appropriate ridicule.
As seen at The Chronicle of Higher Education.
Hat tip to No Nym, guest blogger at Bitch, Ph.D.
--ER
Conservapedia, apparently once described, until somebody thought better of it:
Conservapedia is a much-needed alternative to Wikipedia, which is increasingly anti-Christian and anti-American. On Wikipedia, many of the dates are provided in the anti-Christian "C.E." instead of "A.D.", which Conservapedia uses.
Appropriate ridicule.
As seen at The Chronicle of Higher Education.
Hat tip to No Nym, guest blogger at Bitch, Ph.D.
--ER
Friday, April 06, 2007
Twine: Jefferson is spinning in his grave
(One post, two topics, two threads. Two threads: Twine!)
Uno. The police and a school in Burlington Township, N.J., are catching major flack because of a terrorism safety drill and lockdown scenaraio that fundamentalist Christian groups, including Focus on the Family, are condemning as discriminatory.
One problem: Unless the police and school officials are just lying, which would be insane, no one ever said the mock terrorists were meant to depict "Christians."
The scenario did, apparently, depict "fundamentalists" who "don't believe in the separation of church and state" -- an actual threat to the state, in other words.
Christians make themselves guilty by association by associating themselves with those depicted in this drill.
And those who fuel and nurse such hatred of the traditional doctrine of the "wall of separation of church and state" in this country -- and I don't care that's it's not, strictly speaking, in the Constitution; it's part of our governmental heritigage -- such hatemongers will not get off lightly if someone actually acts out the terrorism pretended in New Jersey.
Unnecessary but prudent school apology here.
Unnecessary but prudent school and police joint apology here.
Read all about it from the only information source that makes me think Fox News actually is fair and balanced: Focus on the Family's CitizenLink.
Discuss.
----------
Two-o. EL and I got into it bigtime the other day over whether Thomas Jefferson, credited with popularizing the phrase "wall of separation of church and state" in a letter to Baptists, was a deist.
Well, yeah. And he really had some big problems with the Bible, too. But he seems to have tried to "follow" Jesus.
EL didn't buy it, so I had to do some actual manual file retrieval -- got a book down from a shelf and typed in a bunch of direct quotes from some of Jefferson's letters -- and it's all very interesting.
The thread at EL's place is here.
Discuss.
--ER
Uno. The police and a school in Burlington Township, N.J., are catching major flack because of a terrorism safety drill and lockdown scenaraio that fundamentalist Christian groups, including Focus on the Family, are condemning as discriminatory.
One problem: Unless the police and school officials are just lying, which would be insane, no one ever said the mock terrorists were meant to depict "Christians."
The scenario did, apparently, depict "fundamentalists" who "don't believe in the separation of church and state" -- an actual threat to the state, in other words.
Christians make themselves guilty by association by associating themselves with those depicted in this drill.
And those who fuel and nurse such hatred of the traditional doctrine of the "wall of separation of church and state" in this country -- and I don't care that's it's not, strictly speaking, in the Constitution; it's part of our governmental heritigage -- such hatemongers will not get off lightly if someone actually acts out the terrorism pretended in New Jersey.
Unnecessary but prudent school apology here.
Unnecessary but prudent school and police joint apology here.
Read all about it from the only information source that makes me think Fox News actually is fair and balanced: Focus on the Family's CitizenLink.
Discuss.
----------
Two-o. EL and I got into it bigtime the other day over whether Thomas Jefferson, credited with popularizing the phrase "wall of separation of church and state" in a letter to Baptists, was a deist.
Well, yeah. And he really had some big problems with the Bible, too. But he seems to have tried to "follow" Jesus.
EL didn't buy it, so I had to do some actual manual file retrieval -- got a book down from a shelf and typed in a bunch of direct quotes from some of Jefferson's letters -- and it's all very interesting.
The thread at EL's place is here.
Discuss.
--ER
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The whole bloggin' family
Woo hoo! Dr. ER, after a long blogging hiatus, started a new blog! Check out her first impressions of Boulder:
Dr. ER's My Boulder Blog.
And, Woo hoo hoo hoo! My granddogs, Fenway and Apollo, have jumped back in the blogging game since school at Oklahoma State is winding down and they can get on Bird and YankeeBeau's computers. Apollo writes about:
Two new little sisters and their upcoming vacation.
(Dr. ER is Dama. ER is Dampa Rit.)
A little light fare ...
--ER
Dr. ER's My Boulder Blog.
And, Woo hoo hoo hoo! My granddogs, Fenway and Apollo, have jumped back in the blogging game since school at Oklahoma State is winding down and they can get on Bird and YankeeBeau's computers. Apollo writes about:
Two new little sisters and their upcoming vacation.
(Dr. ER is Dama. ER is Dampa Rit.)
A little light fare ...
--ER
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
This I believe
The Lenten study series at my church has been on NPR's "This I Believe" series and the accompanying book. Some of us accepted the pastor's challenge to write about what we believe, in 500 words or less. ...
--ER
By The Erudite Redneck
The preacher’s message was so clear I thought I could draw it. So I did.
With a dainty “lady’s” pen and pad from Mama’s purse, a huge black thing with a vicious metal snap and a hard, flat bottom with sharp corners, I drew what I heard the preacher say.
At top: “God,” just the word, with some lines for light rays around it. At bottom: A stick figure of a boy: Me. Between, another stick figure, a cross, for Jesus.
I put the cross there because the preacher said, according to the Old, Old Story, God loved us so much that he put it there: “A Savior came from Glory.”
I looked up and Mama smiled at my handiwork. As a hymn played, I stepped out into the aisle and I walked to the front, and I prayed with the preacher.
This I believe: At that moment, the spirit of Jesus, my friend, helper, Savior in ways even more mysterious to me today than then, at age 8 – his spirit of honesty, openness, willingness, kindness, love and justice -- did, in fact, come into my heart.
Grace, Grace – “marvelous, infinite, matchless grace, freely bestowed” -- found me, in a Southern Baptist church in a small Southern town. In that congregation I first learned my privilege and obligation as a Christian to give grace away as freely as it was given to me.
That was then. Jimmy Carter knows. Bill Moyers knows. I dare say Bill Clinton knows.
The sprit of Jesus saves.
The spirit of Jesus saved me from racism when in my teens, the Ku Klux Klan tried to resurrect. I could not square such rhetoric and meanness with the Gospel as preached at that little church.
The spirit of Jesus saved me from the mood of greed that dominated the 1980s when I was in college, a worldly spirit perfectly depicted in a familiar dorm-room poster of the era: “Poverty Sucks,” it says, over a big photo of a big man, a self-satisfied prig wearing jodhpurs, tweed jacket, sporty cap and riding boots, glass in hand, wine in an ice bucket on the bumper of a gaudy Rolls Royce.
The spirit of Jesus kept me in the 1990s, lingering, loitering it seemed at times, whispering, tickling the ears of my soul, pricking my heart, even as I went my own way in my own prodigality, wasting my substance, living riotously.
Not long ago, the spirit of Jesus wrecked a particularly stubborn cultural vestige of my upbringing, destroying my selfish, unthinking bias against same-sex orientation, as sure as he destroyed the money changers’ tables in the temple.
But, I want to be greedy. I want to waste my substance. I want to think myself better than others, black others, homosexual others, other nations' others, other religions' others. It’s natural.
There is God, me, and the spirit of Jesus, saving me from myself, when I let myself go. It’s supernatural, but really so clear you can draw it.
-30-
--ER
By The Erudite Redneck
The preacher’s message was so clear I thought I could draw it. So I did.
With a dainty “lady’s” pen and pad from Mama’s purse, a huge black thing with a vicious metal snap and a hard, flat bottom with sharp corners, I drew what I heard the preacher say.
At top: “God,” just the word, with some lines for light rays around it. At bottom: A stick figure of a boy: Me. Between, another stick figure, a cross, for Jesus.
I put the cross there because the preacher said, according to the Old, Old Story, God loved us so much that he put it there: “A Savior came from Glory.”
I looked up and Mama smiled at my handiwork. As a hymn played, I stepped out into the aisle and I walked to the front, and I prayed with the preacher.
This I believe: At that moment, the spirit of Jesus, my friend, helper, Savior in ways even more mysterious to me today than then, at age 8 – his spirit of honesty, openness, willingness, kindness, love and justice -- did, in fact, come into my heart.
Grace, Grace – “marvelous, infinite, matchless grace, freely bestowed” -- found me, in a Southern Baptist church in a small Southern town. In that congregation I first learned my privilege and obligation as a Christian to give grace away as freely as it was given to me.
That was then. Jimmy Carter knows. Bill Moyers knows. I dare say Bill Clinton knows.
The sprit of Jesus saves.
The spirit of Jesus saved me from racism when in my teens, the Ku Klux Klan tried to resurrect. I could not square such rhetoric and meanness with the Gospel as preached at that little church.
The spirit of Jesus saved me from the mood of greed that dominated the 1980s when I was in college, a worldly spirit perfectly depicted in a familiar dorm-room poster of the era: “Poverty Sucks,” it says, over a big photo of a big man, a self-satisfied prig wearing jodhpurs, tweed jacket, sporty cap and riding boots, glass in hand, wine in an ice bucket on the bumper of a gaudy Rolls Royce.
The spirit of Jesus kept me in the 1990s, lingering, loitering it seemed at times, whispering, tickling the ears of my soul, pricking my heart, even as I went my own way in my own prodigality, wasting my substance, living riotously.
Not long ago, the spirit of Jesus wrecked a particularly stubborn cultural vestige of my upbringing, destroying my selfish, unthinking bias against same-sex orientation, as sure as he destroyed the money changers’ tables in the temple.
But, I want to be greedy. I want to waste my substance. I want to think myself better than others, black others, homosexual others, other nations' others, other religions' others. It’s natural.
There is God, me, and the spirit of Jesus, saving me from myself, when I let myself go. It’s supernatural, but really so clear you can draw it.
-30-
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Obama of Nazareth
What *did* Jesus look like?
Being a Palestinian, he probably was dark-skinned, but not "black" -- sort of like Barack Obama! Coffee with cream.
He sure wasn't the blond-haired, blue-eyed Jesus we imagined when I was little (although, admittedly, in the images I saw, he looked more like John Lennon with his beard trimmed and hair washed, sans little round glasses).
I think Jesus looked like Max Klinger on "M*A*S*H," and the Apostle Paul, for some reason, I imagine as Danny DeVito. Judas? Lucious Malfoy!
In your imagination, what does Jesus look like? God the Father? The Apostles?
From The Associated Press via MSNBC
He wears Jesus' robes and a neon blue halo, looks like Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama and is causing a stir at a Chicago art school.
Read all about it.
--ER
Being a Palestinian, he probably was dark-skinned, but not "black" -- sort of like Barack Obama! Coffee with cream.
He sure wasn't the blond-haired, blue-eyed Jesus we imagined when I was little (although, admittedly, in the images I saw, he looked more like John Lennon with his beard trimmed and hair washed, sans little round glasses).
I think Jesus looked like Max Klinger on "M*A*S*H," and the Apostle Paul, for some reason, I imagine as Danny DeVito. Judas? Lucious Malfoy!
In your imagination, what does Jesus look like? God the Father? The Apostles?
From The Associated Press via MSNBC
He wears Jesus' robes and a neon blue halo, looks like Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama and is causing a stir at a Chicago art school.
Read all about it.
--ER
Monday, April 02, 2007
'The ear of the leader must ring with the voices of the people' -- President Woodrow Wilson
"Politics ends where the water begins" is like that old adage, "Cleanliness is next Godliness," which many people think is in the Bible.
It's not true and it never has been true -- not from the American Revolution on.
We should speak with one voice when we are speaking with one voice. When we're at each other's throats over important issues, then what we see should be what they get.
It's that whole democracy thing. Refracted through the whole republican form of government thing. And, you know, the truth thing.
Diplomacy is the opposite of shootin' first and askin' questions later -- which is why President George W. "Doc the Haywood" Bush can't stand it -- or Nancy Pelosi.
Republican senators, congressman, mayors, dogcatchers and interns, however, are welcome to freelance all they want.
--ER
By Ivan Eland
President Bush has scolded House Speaker Nancy Pelosi for visiting Syria. In the president’s opinion, shared by others, the U.S. government should speak with just one voice overseas. Yet that view flies in the face of both the text and the spirit of the Constitution.
Read it all.
(Tip o' the cowboy hat to DCup at PoliTits, for bringin' the latest Bush hypocrisy to my attention.)
It's not true and it never has been true -- not from the American Revolution on.
We should speak with one voice when we are speaking with one voice. When we're at each other's throats over important issues, then what we see should be what they get.
It's that whole democracy thing. Refracted through the whole republican form of government thing. And, you know, the truth thing.
Diplomacy is the opposite of shootin' first and askin' questions later -- which is why President George W. "Doc the Haywood" Bush can't stand it -- or Nancy Pelosi.
Republican senators, congressman, mayors, dogcatchers and interns, however, are welcome to freelance all they want.
--ER
By Ivan Eland
President Bush has scolded House Speaker Nancy Pelosi for visiting Syria. In the president’s opinion, shared by others, the U.S. government should speak with just one voice overseas. Yet that view flies in the face of both the text and the spirit of the Constitution.
Read it all.
(Tip o' the cowboy hat to DCup at PoliTits, for bringin' the latest Bush hypocrisy to my attention.)
On global free trade, poisoned wheat gluten, melamine and dead dogs and cats
Hold onto your companion animals, y'all. This deal smells like one for the history books. Nobody knows for sure what the heck is going on. Don't let them make you think they do.
By Lisa Wade McCormick
ConsumerAffairs.Com
Add Alpo to the list of pet food brands recalling wet pet food after a wave of dog and cat deaths throughout North America. ...
The melamine-tainted wheat gluten came from a new supplier, who imported the ingredient from China. ...
Read all about it.
I just threw away four cans of the Alpo in question. We used it as a stopgap for Riker and Bailey when they run out of dry food. ... And if they recall Beneful Healthy Weight dry food, I'll ask y'all to put the dogs on your prayer lists.
Of course, I don't believe a damn word any spokesman for any big corporation says. The evil bastards. Screw America! Screw people! Screw their dogs and cats. All hail the power of Mammon's name, let humans prostrate fall!
--ER
By Lisa Wade McCormick
ConsumerAffairs.Com
Add Alpo to the list of pet food brands recalling wet pet food after a wave of dog and cat deaths throughout North America. ...
The melamine-tainted wheat gluten came from a new supplier, who imported the ingredient from China. ...
Read all about it.
I just threw away four cans of the Alpo in question. We used it as a stopgap for Riker and Bailey when they run out of dry food. ... And if they recall Beneful Healthy Weight dry food, I'll ask y'all to put the dogs on your prayer lists.
Of course, I don't believe a damn word any spokesman for any big corporation says. The evil bastards. Screw America! Screw people! Screw their dogs and cats. All hail the power of Mammon's name, let humans prostrate fall!
--ER
Sunday, April 01, 2007
'Alright then, I'll go to hell'
Uno: Moping is over. It cost me $50 last night.
I plumb forgot to go to an awards banquet I not only paid for already, but had to go out of my way to get a ticket to, since I was not an award recipient, but just wanted to to see people I might not see again forever after the move. Dang!
And, I got work to do today. So, mope, schmope.
Two-o: Prayer of Confession this morning at this awesome church.
Lord of Life, as we remember the final trip of Jesus into the ancient City of Kings, let us not forget that he was not a king, but a prophet. He did not govern through power, but through love. He did not have loyal subjects, but faithful disciples. He was not committed to conquest, but to reconciliation. His lament is as fresh as the morning, that we too might recognize the things that make for peace. Amen.
Two-o and 1/2: Have I told y'all lately that I see church attendance as a form of spiritual dialysis? It allows me to flush out emotional and other forms of toxins and have good stuff replenished. Kind of a Jesusy Gatorade thing. I sure don't go because I'm a goody two-shoes. And I sure don't go to earn brownie points with the Lord, which goes against the whole point of the Gospel. I go because I need to go and, in fact, find myself almost desperate at times to be present with a bunch of other people in worship and prayerful consideration of the meaning of Jesus, as well as Life, the Universe and Everything.
Tres. Our Lenten reading for today (source of the headline)
"Mysterious Connections that Link Us Together"
by Azar Nafisi
I believe in empathy. I believe in the kind of empathy that is created through imagination and through intimate, personal relationships.
Read it all, or listen, from NPR's "This I Believe" series.
D. Today's Scripture reading:
Luke 19: 41-42.
Cinco. From Geoffrey Kruse-Safford's "What's Left in the Church?"
"Some Thoughts for Palm Sunday in re Flip-Flopping"
A taste:
We are the crowd that welcomes Jesus into Jerusalem. We are the ones who stand in the mob and demand his death five days later.
Read it all.
Six. On a much lighter note:
Today is something of a minor holiday on the ER NASCAR Church Calendar: Martinsville, and the Goody's Cool Orange 500.
Dude. It's on the TV now and will be on all day as I do some of the work that needs done around here.
--ER
I plumb forgot to go to an awards banquet I not only paid for already, but had to go out of my way to get a ticket to, since I was not an award recipient, but just wanted to to see people I might not see again forever after the move. Dang!
And, I got work to do today. So, mope, schmope.
Two-o: Prayer of Confession this morning at this awesome church.
Lord of Life, as we remember the final trip of Jesus into the ancient City of Kings, let us not forget that he was not a king, but a prophet. He did not govern through power, but through love. He did not have loyal subjects, but faithful disciples. He was not committed to conquest, but to reconciliation. His lament is as fresh as the morning, that we too might recognize the things that make for peace. Amen.
Two-o and 1/2: Have I told y'all lately that I see church attendance as a form of spiritual dialysis? It allows me to flush out emotional and other forms of toxins and have good stuff replenished. Kind of a Jesusy Gatorade thing. I sure don't go because I'm a goody two-shoes. And I sure don't go to earn brownie points with the Lord, which goes against the whole point of the Gospel. I go because I need to go and, in fact, find myself almost desperate at times to be present with a bunch of other people in worship and prayerful consideration of the meaning of Jesus, as well as Life, the Universe and Everything.
Tres. Our Lenten reading for today (source of the headline)
"Mysterious Connections that Link Us Together"
by Azar Nafisi
I believe in empathy. I believe in the kind of empathy that is created through imagination and through intimate, personal relationships.
Read it all, or listen, from NPR's "This I Believe" series.
D. Today's Scripture reading:
Luke 19: 41-42.
Cinco. From Geoffrey Kruse-Safford's "What's Left in the Church?"
"Some Thoughts for Palm Sunday in re Flip-Flopping"
A taste:
We are the crowd that welcomes Jesus into Jerusalem. We are the ones who stand in the mob and demand his death five days later.
Read it all.
Six. On a much lighter note:
Today is something of a minor holiday on the ER NASCAR Church Calendar: Martinsville, and the Goody's Cool Orange 500.
Dude. It's on the TV now and will be on all day as I do some of the work that needs done around here.
--ER
