Friday, December 22, 2006
timeless peace in the deepest void
Tonight while I was driving I happened to glance up. The stars were so bright. They were so beautiful and serene standing completely apart from the freeway lights. Tomorrow I am flying out East for a family gathering, but tonight there were the stars. Praise God and there were stars. Words won’t do it, they reminded me of some things I had forgotten, and I honestly can say I wish you could have been here to see them.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A moderated view
At the small group from my church my wife and I attend we recently had an in depth discussion concerning musical styles and preferences as it pertains to worship. Having thought about it myself I propose a moderated view of worship in the context of a Christian church setting.
First I would like to point out that I think it is foolish to try to ignore that fact that musical style and tastes will effect how easily a person can actively worship God. The music a person likes is a reflection of the person’s personality and their view of the world. And that will not be the same for everybody. We all see God more clearly in different areas, whether we see Him in nature or people or something else. None of us would expect it to be the same for everyone. Music is no different.
That said though, just because the musical style chosen for worship does not match a person’s particular tastes doesn’t mean they should not attempt to reach out to God. You choose to seek God in worship. The music might not make it easy but that is irrelevant to the choice. There is no justification for quitting or not trying just because it isn’t easy.
The worship leaders are there to serve to help the most people that they possibly can worship effectively. That means the music chosen should be agreeable to the largest number of people. The music should serve to help the church worship as much as it can. There will be people the music misses, as in any democracy there are those left on the side lines. These people should not try to force the people to bend to fit there preferences and should instead use whatever kind of music is at hand to try to worship God, realizing that worship isn’t about them.
The thing that I find interesting though is that most of the people who are really against what they perceive as people being “musically picky” seem unaware that the music played in most churches are essentially of one general genre. Because it is the one they connect best with they are inclined to look down on those who can’t connect with that music as well. I look at them and can’t help but think that they are their parents in another ten years. When the next group comes through bringing their new music with them, the old guard who now forms the new movement will probably oppose the change just as much as their parents opposed the inclusion of the electric guitar.
It makes me laugh, but not because it’s funny.
First I would like to point out that I think it is foolish to try to ignore that fact that musical style and tastes will effect how easily a person can actively worship God. The music a person likes is a reflection of the person’s personality and their view of the world. And that will not be the same for everybody. We all see God more clearly in different areas, whether we see Him in nature or people or something else. None of us would expect it to be the same for everyone. Music is no different.
That said though, just because the musical style chosen for worship does not match a person’s particular tastes doesn’t mean they should not attempt to reach out to God. You choose to seek God in worship. The music might not make it easy but that is irrelevant to the choice. There is no justification for quitting or not trying just because it isn’t easy.
The worship leaders are there to serve to help the most people that they possibly can worship effectively. That means the music chosen should be agreeable to the largest number of people. The music should serve to help the church worship as much as it can. There will be people the music misses, as in any democracy there are those left on the side lines. These people should not try to force the people to bend to fit there preferences and should instead use whatever kind of music is at hand to try to worship God, realizing that worship isn’t about them.
The thing that I find interesting though is that most of the people who are really against what they perceive as people being “musically picky” seem unaware that the music played in most churches are essentially of one general genre. Because it is the one they connect best with they are inclined to look down on those who can’t connect with that music as well. I look at them and can’t help but think that they are their parents in another ten years. When the next group comes through bringing their new music with them, the old guard who now forms the new movement will probably oppose the change just as much as their parents opposed the inclusion of the electric guitar.
It makes me laugh, but not because it’s funny.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
written while listening to Nyana by Tiesto
“Daylight fading
Come and waste another year
All the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear”
Last Saturday Elaine and I were graciously allowed to attend the Andersons Company bowling night. I had a really good time. Jared and his girlfriend Megan were there as well as his brother in-law Nate and his sister Heather. We all bowled on a lane together, drank beer and enjoyed ourselves and the alleys exceedingly inaccurate computers. (I.e. A gutter ball might get you a score of three pins and a strike might only get you eight.) I got an award for most unusual approach. Apparently I bowl as if the lane personally wronged me. Megan asked if it had perchance killed my father.
It was a good party and I was struck by how nice it must be to work for a company that does that kind of thing. It wasn’t just that they threw their employees a party, the manner in which they did it really, in my opinion anyway, showed the employees that they were valued and that they had a direct stake in the company. I wish the jobs I have had were more in that vein. I have had some jobs I really liked but they all lacked the sense of community that the Andersons company has.
I thought about it and the answer was very simple. In every job I have ever had I was replaceable. Then again I have always been replaceable. I am and have always been supremely average. I am a hard worker. Any job I am given I do to the best of my ability. I guess the truth is my ability just isn’t that impressive. In the second part of my college experience I focused to graduate, I worked hard for the average grades I got. I got my degree and the act, though it is meaningful to me, is still average. The fact that my degree is not that wonderful has been made readily apparent by my employment difficulties. I can’t get the experience I need. It honestly looks like I am going to need to get a masters after all. And get it sooner than I had planned.
This last week I guess I have just been discouraged by the way it’s gone. We all want to be important, respected, and talented. Sometimes I am fine with being average but every so often; when the day dreams are vivid it almost makes me sad. I know how Eric feels with his writing and his programming because I feel exactly the same with my degree, accomplishments, and the little I have learned vs. the majority I have forgotten. When I was younger I used to get angry and vow I would come back to all those people who said I would never amount to anything after I had “made it”, whatever that meant, and show them. I suppose I have accomplished more than a lot of people would have assumed I would. But I haven’t been anything more than average, so it’s nothing to brag about, nothing surprising.
This whole last week I haven’t called any of my friends, not that I didn’t want to talk to them, its just I couldn’t find the mood to dial (I hope that makes sense to somebody). I feel bad about it.
“Eventually guilt will be our defining characteristic.”
Last Saturday Elaine and I were graciously allowed to attend the Andersons Company bowling night. I had a really good time. Jared and his girlfriend Megan were there as well as his brother in-law Nate and his sister Heather. We all bowled on a lane together, drank beer and enjoyed ourselves and the alleys exceedingly inaccurate computers. (I.e. A gutter ball might get you a score of three pins and a strike might only get you eight.) I got an award for most unusual approach. Apparently I bowl as if the lane personally wronged me. Megan asked if it had perchance killed my father.
It was a good party and I was struck by how nice it must be to work for a company that does that kind of thing. It wasn’t just that they threw their employees a party, the manner in which they did it really, in my opinion anyway, showed the employees that they were valued and that they had a direct stake in the company. I wish the jobs I have had were more in that vein. I have had some jobs I really liked but they all lacked the sense of community that the Andersons company has.
I thought about it and the answer was very simple. In every job I have ever had I was replaceable. Then again I have always been replaceable. I am and have always been supremely average. I am a hard worker. Any job I am given I do to the best of my ability. I guess the truth is my ability just isn’t that impressive. In the second part of my college experience I focused to graduate, I worked hard for the average grades I got. I got my degree and the act, though it is meaningful to me, is still average. The fact that my degree is not that wonderful has been made readily apparent by my employment difficulties. I can’t get the experience I need. It honestly looks like I am going to need to get a masters after all. And get it sooner than I had planned.
This last week I guess I have just been discouraged by the way it’s gone. We all want to be important, respected, and talented. Sometimes I am fine with being average but every so often; when the day dreams are vivid it almost makes me sad. I know how Eric feels with his writing and his programming because I feel exactly the same with my degree, accomplishments, and the little I have learned vs. the majority I have forgotten. When I was younger I used to get angry and vow I would come back to all those people who said I would never amount to anything after I had “made it”, whatever that meant, and show them. I suppose I have accomplished more than a lot of people would have assumed I would. But I haven’t been anything more than average, so it’s nothing to brag about, nothing surprising.
This whole last week I haven’t called any of my friends, not that I didn’t want to talk to them, its just I couldn’t find the mood to dial (I hope that makes sense to somebody). I feel bad about it.
“Eventually guilt will be our defining characteristic.”
Saturday, December 16, 2006
The band Coheed & Cambria is one of my personal favorite bands. They are exceedingly talented and have yet to release an album that wasn’t awesome. So a few days ago while Christmas shopping I stumbled across a string quartet tribute to their In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3. I thought it would be interesting and so not suspecting much I tested it out. To my surprise, this album is really really good. It is one of the best music purchases I have made in the last little bit and since I enjoyed it so much I thought I would share.
And by the way if you are unfamiliar with Coheed & Cambria I suggest you remedy that.
They are another one of the bands I discovered during my sojourn in California and every time I listen to them it brings back fond memories of riding back from the airport with Ryan and Eric in his now defunct Audi.
Monday, December 11, 2006
All I want to do is say thank you, even though I don’t know who you are. You who helped me kill mobs…
Well I was…questing…in….yeah the rest of the lyrics can’t be converted easily. But that’s not the point. I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank holy…..something or other a mage on the Silvermoon server who restored my faith in teamwork in online gaming. I have not enjoyed playing with another character that much since my friends abandoned the world. So if I ever meet that person I will buy them a drink. But in the mean time…I give them Greggy Tah.
Well I was…questing…in….yeah the rest of the lyrics can’t be converted easily. But that’s not the point. I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank holy…..something or other a mage on the Silvermoon server who restored my faith in teamwork in online gaming. I have not enjoyed playing with another character that much since my friends abandoned the world. So if I ever meet that person I will buy them a drink. But in the mean time…I give them Greggy Tah.
At least it's something.
“…it was not impossible that he might make a passable man-of-war out the Polychrest. He knew her tolerably well now: he and the master (he had a great esteem for Mr. Goodridge) had worked out a sail-plan that made the most of what qualities she possessed, and when he could alter her trim to bring her by the head and rake her masts she might do better; but he could not love her. She was a mean-spirited vessel, radically vicious, cross-grained, laborsome, cruel in her unreliability; and he could not love her. She had disappointed him so often when even a log canoe would have risen to the occasion that his natural affection for his command had dwindled quite away. He had sailed in some rough old tubs, ponderous things with no perceptible virtue to the outsider, but he had always been able to find excuses for them – they had always been the finest ships in the history of the Navy for some particular quality – and this had never happened to him before. The feeling was so strange, the disloyalty so uncomfortable, that it was some time before he would acknowledge it…”
I finally came prepared with my literary reference.
This passage by Patrick O’Brian taken from his novel Post Captain does a fairly good job of capturing how I generally feel about my job.
By the way the series that this book comes from is stellar. It is the finest depiction of naval warfare in the Napoleonic period ever, and just good all around novels besides.
I finally came prepared with my literary reference.
This passage by Patrick O’Brian taken from his novel Post Captain does a fairly good job of capturing how I generally feel about my job.
By the way the series that this book comes from is stellar. It is the finest depiction of naval warfare in the Napoleonic period ever, and just good all around novels besides.
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Tomorrow night I dine at what my dad has dubbed the oriental fish heaven.
Once as a younger man of 22 years I along with several friends went to a Fred Meyer to buy some beverages for an evening spent watching carefully selected crap movies (think Deep Shock or Six-Stringed Samurai * ). I selected some high quality bottled root beer purchased it and attempted to leave the store. I was stopped at the exit by one of their employees and it went a little something like this. And she wasn’t joking either, trust me.
Fred Meyer Lady: “Excuse me Sir I am going to need to see some ID.”
Me: “Actually it’s not beer its just root beer.”
FML: “Sir, if I am going to let you leave I am going to need to see some Id.”
Me: “So…you’re carding on root beer now.”
FML: “Sir.”
Me: “Alright here it is, but I bought root beer.”
She looks at it.
FML: “Well, I guess its fine then.”
She hands it back.
Me: “Yeah I am 22 and its root beer.”
FML: “You just seem so young.”
Me: “Its just root beer!!”
FML: “Have a good night Sir.”
Exit me.
* The afore-mentioned movie is actually a highly symbolic representation of the struggle between surf rock and the forces of ska in the 1950’s.
Fred Meyer Lady: “Excuse me Sir I am going to need to see some ID.”
Me: “Actually it’s not beer its just root beer.”
FML: “Sir, if I am going to let you leave I am going to need to see some Id.”
Me: “So…you’re carding on root beer now.”
FML: “Sir.”
Me: “Alright here it is, but I bought root beer.”
She looks at it.
FML: “Well, I guess its fine then.”
She hands it back.
Me: “Yeah I am 22 and its root beer.”
FML: “You just seem so young.”
Me: “Its just root beer!!”
FML: “Have a good night Sir.”
Exit me.
* The afore-mentioned movie is actually a highly symbolic representation of the struggle between surf rock and the forces of ska in the 1950’s.
pain is only a pulse if you just stop feeling it
So I thought I should do an update about what I am actually up to these days. Most of my posts tend to be sort of stream of consciousness bits without much cohesion or information. This one will hopefully be a bit different. I delayed a long time in writing about work partly out of fear that someone from work would read it (and yes I know how improbable that is) and partly because I had hoped to use a literary excerpt as means of explanation about my relation to my job. I should be able to post that tomorrow but in the meantime I will put up something.
I am working at Petco, getting about 20 – 35 hours a week now. And though the people at work are generally cool I must admit that I don’t like my job that much. Granted its good in a way that I can learn more about the pet industry and I hope to use the experience to learn more about aquarium management and maintenance but it’s hard to get excited about it. The other portion of it is I have a bunch of take home books to work through and tests to take so it almost feels like college again, minus the motivation. Tonight I worked a bit in a nice little 200 page manual - one of 16ish total books I need to go through. I don’t even know which ones I have to hand in or what is involved with the requirements and tests. They want to promote me as fast as they can, and that’s good, but what that requires me to do has been less clear. It is also kind of weird for me because I am hoping desperately that I get hired on as a biology technician by the city of Portland. So the whole time I am at Petco I am hoping to go somewhere else.
To make up for the fact that I don’t have many hours a week yet and that my pay is still somewhat limited I have continued on battling the onset of winter in my parents yard. (Yeah I know I work at my parents…sounds rather damning I know, but you have to do what you need to pay the rent.) My most recent victory has come in the form of an encounter with a blackberry bush of enormous proportions that had used a pine tree as cover. I wrestled the giant out of the earth using my bare hands and a trowel. It was epic…there will be songs and tales. Ok maybe just an exaggerated mention in an obscure blog.
That’s pretty much it. I have to take a test tomorrow at work so hopefully I’ll pass.
Euphemistically yours,
Blanket Jones
Coming soon to this blog!!
Monster Cards
Santa Clause I & II, holiday movies for the family (or a murder mystery)… all will be revealed.
I am working at Petco, getting about 20 – 35 hours a week now. And though the people at work are generally cool I must admit that I don’t like my job that much. Granted its good in a way that I can learn more about the pet industry and I hope to use the experience to learn more about aquarium management and maintenance but it’s hard to get excited about it. The other portion of it is I have a bunch of take home books to work through and tests to take so it almost feels like college again, minus the motivation. Tonight I worked a bit in a nice little 200 page manual - one of 16ish total books I need to go through. I don’t even know which ones I have to hand in or what is involved with the requirements and tests. They want to promote me as fast as they can, and that’s good, but what that requires me to do has been less clear. It is also kind of weird for me because I am hoping desperately that I get hired on as a biology technician by the city of Portland. So the whole time I am at Petco I am hoping to go somewhere else.
To make up for the fact that I don’t have many hours a week yet and that my pay is still somewhat limited I have continued on battling the onset of winter in my parents yard. (Yeah I know I work at my parents…sounds rather damning I know, but you have to do what you need to pay the rent.) My most recent victory has come in the form of an encounter with a blackberry bush of enormous proportions that had used a pine tree as cover. I wrestled the giant out of the earth using my bare hands and a trowel. It was epic…there will be songs and tales. Ok maybe just an exaggerated mention in an obscure blog.
That’s pretty much it. I have to take a test tomorrow at work so hopefully I’ll pass.
Euphemistically yours,
Blanket Jones
Coming soon to this blog!!
Monster Cards
Santa Clause I & II, holiday movies for the family (or a murder mystery)… all will be revealed.
Monday, December 4, 2006
A phone call from an old friend.
“You may tire of me
As our December sun is setting
Because I'm not who I used to be”
“We're the kids you used to love
As our December sun is setting
Because I'm not who I used to be”
“We're the kids you used to love
But then we grew old
we’re the lifers here till the bitter end
Condemned from the start”
It has been awhile since we talked on the phone and I admit it’s good to hear from you. I have always kept those I have ever been fond of in my active thoughts. But if this talk has done nothing else it drives home how all those we know are trapped in our memories as we last saw them. Bugs trapped in amber. That’s how we exist in each others memories. So tonight it will take time to update all my knowledge of you. And as for me, it’s a wonder you can even recognize me. You last saw me when we were young. Back when the question “What do you want to do with your life?” was a bullshit question posed by well meaning teachers. Our answer then was a shrug and visions of a future with a flat in the city, parties with our friends nightly, and weekends at the coast. I would admit that my answer would be the same but now the question has our lives and the lives of our lovers riding on our answer. And I am different. Its funny how it works and I know you don’t notice yet the change but in time it will be apparent. The things you remember best about me are still there but they have been eclipsed. I am much more reserved now, older and pessimistic. And you have changed too. It is funny sometimes how time can render those you think you know strangers. But we move forward relationally with the past an unstated baggage that serves to remind us of our collective history but will apply little at present. And all those things I eventually meant to say will be buried even as the form in my mouth. Because this is the new me, but the same me, and if you remember what came before this might disappoint you.
It has been awhile since we talked on the phone and I admit it’s good to hear from you. I have always kept those I have ever been fond of in my active thoughts. But if this talk has done nothing else it drives home how all those we know are trapped in our memories as we last saw them. Bugs trapped in amber. That’s how we exist in each others memories. So tonight it will take time to update all my knowledge of you. And as for me, it’s a wonder you can even recognize me. You last saw me when we were young. Back when the question “What do you want to do with your life?” was a bullshit question posed by well meaning teachers. Our answer then was a shrug and visions of a future with a flat in the city, parties with our friends nightly, and weekends at the coast. I would admit that my answer would be the same but now the question has our lives and the lives of our lovers riding on our answer. And I am different. Its funny how it works and I know you don’t notice yet the change but in time it will be apparent. The things you remember best about me are still there but they have been eclipsed. I am much more reserved now, older and pessimistic. And you have changed too. It is funny sometimes how time can render those you think you know strangers. But we move forward relationally with the past an unstated baggage that serves to remind us of our collective history but will apply little at present. And all those things I eventually meant to say will be buried even as the form in my mouth. Because this is the new me, but the same me, and if you remember what came before this might disappoint you.
After a rough day I like to lose myself in loud music and or loud friends.
I’m gong out tonight, like the protagonist from swing kids, getting dressed alone that last time. I’m going to drive through this city of layered ashes. Following the night in this city populated with resurrected ghosts and skeletons gaining flesh.
And that's when I realized.....I just wasn't cool.
One of the harshest critiques I ever received came in the form of a compliment. I have for a long time now been mostly quiet and reserved, very unnoticeable. But at rare moments with the help of a drink or with a vagrancy of mood I get into moments lasting 4 to 15 minutes where I am massively gregarious and somewhat funny. These are fleeting and rare. This girl I knew was hanging out in a group I was with when I hit one of those moments. She turned to me and said “Wow, I used to think you were really dull. But you’re really funny and really cool.” Even as she said it I knew that in another 5 minutes the mood would wear off. Then I would be just as dull as she thought I was.
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