One of Chris Niedenthal’s images of Poland in the 1980s — he called it “Everything’s Gray.” I wish I’d taken more photos of the parts of Poland I knew that looked like this because they’re gone. That’s probably a good thing, but I wish I’d photographed those places myself.
There was a bar in my village that I almost never entered. It was the GS-owski bar and even in the mid-90s, it looked like one would always imagine a bar to look in a communist country.
We’re in the midst of — at least theoretically — our final renovations. The guest bath is almost done: we just have the tile work to complete (or rather, to have completed).
The basement, though, is another story…
Exploring Spotify’s “Indie Bluegrass” playlist last night, I discovered her — Sarah Jarosz, a young singer/songwriter whose music excites me more than any music I can remember from the last ten years or so. I began wandering through her catalog, continually impressed and pleased, and then I heard it. Her cover of Dylan’s “Simple Twist of Fate.” A voice; a pizzicato cello — nothing else. Perfection.
I played it for the Boy this evening and he was asking me about it. “Does it bring back memories?” he asked.
“None at all,” I smiled. I guess he’s used to me reveling in the memories particular songs bring to mind, but this song, this performance — no memories at all. And that’s what makes connecting to new music so magical. For me, the new music that hook me have a certain timeless sense to them. They feel like they should have memories dripping from them.
Over the course of the last twenty-four hours, I’ve managed to listen to about four of her albums, but the first one I listened to remains my favorite: World on the Ground. The whole thing is available as a playlist on YouTube.
She’s also released a video of completely-stripped-down versions of some of the album’s best songs (undoubtedly in their original composition state).
I’m currently reading Trent Horn’s Hard Sayings: A Catholic Approach to Answering Bible Difficulties and at about halfway through, I’ve definitely formed some definite opinions about the book. Most strikingly, I’ve come to realize it’s mistitled. Instead of Hard Sayings: A Catholic Approach to Answering Bible Difficulties, it should be titled The Passage Makes Sense if We Assume… : A Catholic Approach to Answering Bible Difficulties. That phrase — “The passage makes sense if we assume…” — is a quote from the book, and it’s indicative of the whole argument. In fact, Horn doesn’t just suggest that we have to assume to Bible is correct to really understand how it’s correct, he says it outright:
[I]t is the critic’s burden to prove that there is a contradiction in the Bible because he is the one accusing the text of being contradictory. All the believer has to do is offer one or more reasonable explanations of how the passages could be reconciled, thereby showing that the critic’s evidence is not conclusive (152).
This is ridiculous: there is nothing to prove with the contradictions. They’re sitting on the page, obvious as the sun in the sky. This passage says X; that passage says not X. There — it contradicts itself. It’s the believer’s burden to explain how it only appears to be a contradiction.
But Horn’s approach makes it possible for him to weave his conditional explanations of problems with the Bible and feel that they suffice. And does this book ever have a ton of conditionals. Within X pages, we read that “Mark may have referred to him…”, that the “name Jethro appears to be a title on par with ‘your excellency,'” that it “could be that the Midianites…”, that “[o]ne way to resolve this contradiction … is to propose,” that “both are probably referring…”, and that “It could be the case.” Let’s make a list of those statements:
This is an argument of possibilities, all of which are extra-Biblical and simply endeavor to save the Bible for people who want it saved. These explanations are just ways of explaining away obvious problems, and these types of “arguments” will only appeal to those who have already accepted the conclusion. In other words, another possible subtitle could be “Begging the Question.”
On one of the Bible-in-a-Year groups that I still follow appeared the following comment:
I’ve been behind…well I actually started on day 5. So I’ve been at least 4 days behind. Today, I got caught up to day 44 and haven’t stop thinking of day 42. I have a lot of friends who are in a same sex marriage, and I just couldn’t accept the thought that my friends who love eachother so much, are sinful. I found this group to see what others thought on the subject; or really what the church’s view really was. I just can’t help but think that God truly loves us no matter who we love. No one chooses to be in a same sex marriage to go against the grain, but with the intention of love! I was really bothered by others not thinking otherwise. I mean, who are we tell other people what God will punish or not?
It’s so unusual to find members of these groups expressing their doubts and disagreements like this. Most of the groups are simply fawning over how great Jesus is, how great the Bible is, how great God is (I know — God and Jesus are supposed to be the same person, but no Christian really thinks of them as the same being in any practical way). To see someone else (someone other than me, that is) saying, “Hold on a tick — this just doesn’t seem to make sense” is fabulous. I had to show some solidarity:
Never will understand this — why is the Abrahamic God so concerned about what consenting adults do to the point that in both the OT and the Koran, believers are commanded to kill homosexuals? One of the biggest things that has pushed me toward exiting the church.
It got a couple of responses, but nothing major. One lady explained it thusly:
You know how in the OT, the objects in the Temple are holy, simply because they were consecrated to God for a specific use? So are a man and a woman holy and their relationship is holy.
When we take something SO Incredibly Holy and use it for our own selfish purposes, it causes SO MUCH Pain to God. We don’t feel our own pain, because it is in our souls, and it is hidden underneath the sweetness of our sinfulness. BTW – it isn’t just a homosexual relationship that is unholy – a heterosexual one can be just as unholy. But a homosexual relationship is sinful inside and out. It is such a deep, deep, deep devaluing of the person of the opposite sex, who has been rejected in favor of a person of the same sex.
First of all, in what sense does could an omnipotent, omniscient, eternal being feel pain? One only has to think about it for half a second to realize the absurdity of it. But this idea of causing the Christian god pain is one of the fundamental ways Christianity encourages feelings of guilt. “Jesus did so much for you, and you’re just rejecting him?!” First of all, what exactly did Jesus do? He died for a weekend. Second, why did he have to die, according to Christian theology? To pay for our sins. But who defined those sins and defined the consequences for violating those laws? He did. It reminds me of a favorite meme:
Second, the idea of it being “such a deep, deep, deep devaluing of the person of the opposite sex, who has been rejected in favor of a person of the same sex” illustrates how deep this person’s misunderstanding of human sexuality.
The Boy and I were alone for most of the day as the girls were in Rock Hill for the tournament — three tournaments in three weeks means we’re just about sick of them.
E and I had decided to go back to Southside Park to do some more riding. We first, though, had to perform a bit of maintenance. His bike developed a flat yesterday, so we had to get a new inner tube. That done, we headed out.
We went over to the improvised “Power Line” trail because that was what E had been dreaming of all week. At the start of it, I realized I’d lost my water bottle. We went back the way we came but to no avail, which meant a bit of judicious water bottle sharing: in short, I drank only when my throat was raging because the Boy always finishes his bottle and wants some of mine.
After 11 km of riding, we started back when suddenly, E got such a severe puncture that his rear tire — the one with the new inner tube — deflated almost instantaneously. Had to walk 2 km back to the car…
The Boy’s soccer team won 2-1 with a literal last-minute goal.
The Girl’s volleyball team won all three of their games in straight sets.
A good day in sports for our family.
I was in L’s room playing a game of chess with her, E looking on, when she decided to put some music on. “Who knows what this could be,” I thought, but said nothing. Imagine my surprise when the opening lines of one of the best albums of the 1990s, one of the best albums of all time, Radiohead’s Ok Computer, began. It turns out, she’s discovered this masterpiece on her own.
“What’s your favorite song on the album?” I asked.
“Exit Music,” she said.
Good choice.
Evangelicals are all hot and excited about Putin’s attack against Ukraine.
Never mind the ridiculously immoral thought that God is compelling all these people to commit these actions, thereby making him ultimately responsible (so much for the Christian favorite apologetic move to explain the existence of evil, “It’s free-will!”). What’s equally disturbing is his excitement at the thought of what all this means: the rapture must surely be right around the corner. And shortly thereafter, Jesus will return! Hallelujah! Putin, in such a scenario, must launch nukes at some point because almost all life on Earth has to be wiped out (at least in the version I was raised learning), so we must lift our hearts in prayer that Putin will go ahead and order that nuclear attack.
So let’s run a thought experiment. Let’s say Putin does launch a nuclear war. Let’s say it’s worst-case scenario: almost all life is wiped out. Surely in that group of survivors, there would have to be some evangelical Christians. How would they interpret this devastation? Jesus’s return was supposed to be tied into this apocalypse, they might reason. Would they stop believing, though? Would this be proof for them that their rapture idea (at the very least) was faulty?
I don’t think they would stop believing. They would have to explain it somehow, but to suggest that they were wrong all along? It seems unlikely. They might even suggest that a lot of people were raptured just before the explosions vaporized millions. That would mean, though, that they weren’t raptured. That would mean that, despite their convictions about the impossibility of the scenario, they were left behind a la the Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins fictional series. But giving up that belief? I think they might even cling to it all the more.
At this point, another line of thought: we’re going to be living under the actual threat of a nuclear holocaust for as long as Putin is alive. But even in his death, he would threaten the world: his successor, if chosen by Putin, would be someone who’s groomed in the same convictions just as happens in North Korea. There is a very real possibility that this successor would have almost identical political views and aims as Putin. In that case, we’re right back in the same situation as the evangelicals: nothing could convince them that their convictions are wrong. Which would mean that the nuclear threat would continue. Which would mean that the evangelicals would continue to find perverse excitement in the situation. Which means it’s all circular…
For the first time in two years. What a feeling.
We spent the weekend in Atlanta — it was, in short, an emotional roller coaster for the girls on L’s volleyball team.
The first day was excruciatingly tough. They lost their first game in straight sets, but it was even more discouraging because they were winning set 2 by 9 (14-5) before ending up losing 19-25. That means the opponents outscored them 20-5 at that point.
The second game didn’t start any better: they lost the first set 13-25. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a tough loss. It prepared them mentally for the loss in the second set 14-25.
By then, they were wasted — done. The third game went down just like the second game: 12-25 and 14-25.
Today, we parents all wondered how things would pan out. I was worried that they might not win a set the whole weekend. The teams at Atlanta were just much stronger, as a whole, than what they were used to. In addition, they were broken mentally. How would it go?
The first game started out just as we feared: they held it together but at 19-19, it seemed like they were falling apart. They pulled it back together, though, and took it into extra points, but they ended up losing 26-24. So close. Set two — would it continue? At one point, they were down 10-16, and I thought, “Well, there’s another one. And if they lose this set, I’m afraid the day is done.” But they kept fighting and ended up taking the set 25-22. They cheered like they’d won a medal.
In the third set, they were tied at 14 and L made a huge hit to put them within one point of winning their first game. But it wasn’t to be: the opponents tied it up. The next play, L made another monster kill and they had another game point. Again, they lost the next point. It kept going like this, but the finally managed to convert a set point, winning 21-19. It was as if they’d won gold in the Olympics.
The final game of the day followed the same pattern. They lost the first set 20-25 but tied it the second set after almost letting a 23-19 lead slip through their fingers: they won 25-24. And finally, in the third set, they dominated: 15-6.
We’re in Atlanta currently, and I’m not sure I can post from here, so this is pre-posting to keep up a meaningless streak: 797 days at this point.
https://twitter.com/NewsReaderYT/status/1497358183458910210?s=20&t=QF5Jz5ZJbXRKACmBUkDw4Q
https://twitter.com/vikkykim1104/status/1497299831164968966?s=20&t=QF5Jz5ZJbXRKACmBUkDw4Q
https://twitter.com/Aryabhata99/status/1497411546305245191?s=20&t=QF5Jz5ZJbXRKACmBUkDw4Q
https://twitter.com/hanisep1ta/status/1497176302163578881?s=20&t=QF5Jz5ZJbXRKACmBUkDw4Q
The promise of the coming summer begins to show itself when, during our monthly outside reward time, kids run around in shorts and short sleeves and get sweaty. Adolescent funk — nothing like it.
There are a lot of things in the world that we might initially fear for no justifiable reason other than something deep within us says, “Run!” There are other things that seem completely harmless and yet can kill. How do we tell them apart?
Fortunately, in nature, evolution provided us with handy indicators: colorful creatures often are creatures we should avoid. Think of a coral snake. Bands of color warn us that this is a creature to avoid. Yet the scarlet king snake has very similar colors as an adaptive measure: it’s harmless, but it looks deadly. We stay away out of an abundance of caution.
E’s scout pack had their Red and Gold Banquet tonight to celebrate the birthday of scouting. There were the usual scout meeting elements: a flag ceremony, recitation of the scout oath and law as well as the pledge, announcements, and the like There was a pleasant meal with friendly chatter. And there was something new: a visitor who brought a number of animals with him. There were snakes and frogs, insects and lizards, a couple of scorpions, some snakes, and a tortoise. Scouts got to handle some of them but mainly just look. One of the scorpions had venom in its stinger that could kill a human. It, of course, stayed inside its box.
The highlight of the evening was the albino python that required seven minders plus the handler to hold. E got to hold a tarantula, which I thought he might back out of when the moment came. He looked over at me, though, getting a reassuring thumbs-up, he went ahead and conquered that fear.
“The legs were hair and tickled a little,” he said on the way home.
Often people are the same as animals: they make clear with their words and actions that they are a threat, that they are someone that others need to deal with early on before things escalate. Russia’s attack on Ukraine was no surprise: Putin puffed out his chest, spread his tail, rattled his tail, flattened his hooded face, hissed, growled, clicked, and grunted, and the rest of us just contented ourselves with the thought that, like the scarlet snake, he only looked dangerous.
But we knew he was dangerous. All his words and deeds showed us that. Now we’re talking about draconian sanctions and such long after the time it could have actually helped. If we’d completely isolated Russia after it annexed Crimea, if we’d made life for its oligarchs all but impossible by completely cutting them off from all access of their incredible wealth held in Western banks and hedge funds, we might have affected some kind of change. But doing that now is a little like signing up for a self-defense course as you hear home invaders breaking down your door: too little much too late.
All the media outlets are running stories about how this changes everything, about how this is the greatest threat to Europe since World War 2, about how this will affect Russia and the rest of the world for years to come, and I think that’s an appropriate reaction. However, we should have had that reaction when they annexed Crimea. We should have had that reaction when they attacked Georgia. We should have known what kind of man we were dealing with when Putin began publishing pictures of himself without a shirt, puffing out his chest, riding horses.
It’s no wonder Trump gets sexually aroused just thinking out this guy. He’s everything Trump wants to be. It’s no wonder he’s praising this guy. He’s the cool bully in class that all the pimple-faced asshole bully-wannabes want to hang out with to get a little street credibility.
Twenty-six miles on a bike today.
