i'm a classic gucci

Timbu is BCBG Leather Clutch. I took the quiz. I'm a classic gucci. So there.

You Are a Classic Gucci Bag You've got style mastered - because you stick with what works Like this Gucci Bag, you prefer classic items that stand the test of time You're also a bit of a practical girl, who prefers function over fluff You prefer a big bag, so that you can have your stuff with you at all times What Kind of Handbag Are You? Take This Quiz :-)

dear mr kerry

previously, i wrote a letter to president bush. It is only fitting john F. kerry should also receive a letter, especially considering my dissatisfaction with both candidates.

Dear Mr. Senator Kerry,

I voted for you once, which means you and Mr Bush are tied; I voted for President Bush in 2000, and have since learned my lesson. Of course, the same could be said for you. I voted for you in 2004, and have since learned my lesson.

"Anyone but Bush." Many who voted for you weren't really voting for you. They were voting against Mr. Bush. I was one of them. I was so dissatisfied with Mr. Bush that I put a sticker with your name on it on my car. Now everyone on the road makes fun of me.

My mother-in-law stopped buying Heinz ketchup thanks to your wife. Do you know how hard it is to eat a hamburger with just mustard?

Recent polls have indicated your opponent's approval ratings are extremely low. In fact, he's the first two term President since WW2 to have an approval rating under 50% at this point in his second term.

Mr. Kerry, you failed to win an election against the weakest incumbent president of my lifetime. You did the impossible: you made Democrats across the nation long for the days of Al Gore.

Before you go off and figure out how to contradict the polling data, let me finish; it gets worse. Mr. Bush's approval ratings for two "swing states" which went for Bush- Ohio: 37%, Florida: 44%. Remember how if you had won Ohio you would have been President? Yet, you were unable to garner 50% of the votes in a state where only one third of the residents approve of your opponent. Well done.

Here's how I break it down: you're not a flipflopper. You're a complete nincompoop. People weren't crazy about Mr. Bush, but at least he was a nincompoop with whom they were familiar. You made the presidential election the equivalent of America going to the movies and being forced to choose between "From Justin To Kelly" or "Gigli." Either choice is going to suck, but one can hope the concession stand sells booze.

Mr. Kerry, please don't run for President again. And pass the word across the aisle to your colleague from NY. History has not been kind to the second President from the same family.

For the 100 worst movies ever made, click here.

comment spam

I seem to have been getting spam in my comments. Write your congressperson.

How do I know it was spam? Today 9 anonymous users wrote "Your blog is sooooooooo interesting," followed with a plea to click on a link. 2 problems: 1) My blog isn't interesting. 2) Current readership of this blog is 4, so 9 comments is impossible.

In an effort to keep the comment section free from male enhancement promises, you will now be required to enter a word verification when you enter a comment. Although I am a comment whore, I hope this does not discourage commenting. I believe this to be a good option - it still allows for comments without having to log into blogger.com.

Let me know how the new system works.

-the preacher

what i'm listening to

Ben Harper. So smooth.

Cedar 3, pictured above, covered one of Ben's songs:

It will make a weak man mighty.
It will make a mighty man fall.
It will fill your heart and hands or leave you with nothing at all.
It's the eyes for the blind and legs for the lame.
It is the love for hate and pride for shame.

Gospel on the water,
Gospel on the land.
The gospel in every woman,
And the gospel in every man.
Gospel in the garden,
Gospel in the trees.
The gospel that's inside of you,
Gospel inside of me.

an open letter to jj

Dear Joshua,

I've decided to call you by your Hebrew name translated into English, rather than your Hebrew name translated to Greek, translated to English. Hope you don't mind. Joshua, son of Joseph - JJ for short.

JJ,

Is there any way you could teach me how to take an oak barrel, fill it with water, and change it to wine? And please don't tell me "add some grapes and yeast and wait a few months."

When you met the infamous unnamed woman at the well, were you hitting on her?

When crazy people throughout the ages have murdered, raped, discriminated, hated, and politicked in your name, do you wish you could take it all back?

Do you still remember what it feels like to be scared?

Do you still remember how it felt to catch your first fish? I remember my first fish. It was a perch. I was scared to take it off the hook. And I wanted to throw it back immediately because I felt bad the fish couldn't breathe.

evil empire

Walmart-the Evil Empire. Nothing says America like putting small business owners out on the street.

But damn, if I don't love Sam's. Nothing says American excess like an 87 gallon bottle of ketchup for $1.87. What am I going to do with all that ketchup? Who cares. It was a deal. Screw the local grocer and their itsy-bitsy normal sized ketchup bottle for $2.05. Nevermind that I'll never consume the Sam's club big bottle of ketchup in my lifetime. I got a deal on it dammit!

Other things I enjoy about Sam's club:
1) Their liquor store. Buying big bottles of liquor does not fall into the same excessive category as buying big bottles of ketchup. Large quantities of liquor I can make sure get consumed before they go bad.

2) Free samples on Saturday.

3) Circling the aisle and taking extra free samples.

4) Cheap diapers.

5) Cheap gas.

6) The person who checks your receipt at the door, but doesn't really check your receipt because there is a line of 400 people waiting to get out.

7) Thick steaks. It should be no surprise that in the store of American excess, the trend continues with excessively large pieces of meat. But I like it. I probably could get better meat at a local butcher, cut thick the way I like it, but once again, I'd be paying more, which is most definitely not the American way.

To be continued...

i just wish I had the time (and $$$)

When I traveled Europe I had to use a guide book. That was but a few years ago. Now, everything you need to know is online. checkout wikiTravel. Very cool.
I just wish they could integrate it with Google Earth.

i love tivo

my new favorite tv show.

and yet

Grief, sorrow, and melancholy explode everywhere around us. I am but a young man; my 30th birthday has yet to drop through the hourglass of life. Yet, like everyone, I have experienced and witnessed hardship. Mine are not unique experiences. We all have them: Friends dying too young in tragic, unexpected ways; cancer; spouses fighting through illness, chronic pain; relationships in peril. Compounding the confusion of life are the emotional and spiritual wounds—those wounds which we hide deep and pretend we don’t care about, even when we are secretly still bitter, but every once in a while…the subtle discontent seeps.

And yet…

And yet, we sometimes find the courage to find beauty in the unexpected. Car crashes are unexpected, but so are the true blessings. I did not expect to be a husband and father before my 26th birthday. But on those days when work seems unbearable and life seems pointless, I return from the office and my daughter greets me at the door with a big smile and a shout: “Daddy!”

And yet, we sometimes find the courage to write what we really think. We sometimes write about what is really on our minds, rather than commenting on pointless internet links or petty politics. We hope to be original, even though we most certainly are not, but what the hell, at least we tried.

And yet, we sometimes remember that life is but misery if we spend it in self absorbed meditation. Instead, we fight through our laziness, meekness, comfortableness, and take the time to invest in the lives of others.

And yet, we sometimes hope the words attributed to a Nazarene peasant are true. Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are those who hunder and thirst for righteousness.


ana

movie review

As I write this, I'm sitting on my front porch, sipping a drink, and enjoying the fresh spring air. Isn't wireless internet grand?

I saw the latest Star Wars installment last week. George Lucus set the bar low enough with the last two that I came away satisfied. The only thing I remember about Phantom Menance was that it was terrible, and I fell asleep in the theatre watching Attack of the Clones. With the newest offering, I at least stayed awake.

Don't get me wrong, the movie was still below average. The dialog was worse than a made for tv movie. Yet, it was at least good to finally complete the story. It's like when you've been working on a project in your house for four years. You don't really care if it gets done or not, but then you finally finish and it feels good.

Or like my brother's canoe. He started building a canoe from scratch 5 years ago. It turned out to be more work than he anticipated, and he's still working on it. At this point, he dreads the thought of the stupid canoe, but damn, if it won't feel good when its finally finished.

This latest Star Wars movie is like the canoe: you don't really want to see it, don't really enjoy watching it, but when you get up to leave the theater, you're a little bit sad the saga is over.

peace in silence

Blogging friend Gloria wonders what my subtle disquiet is about.

I find Gloria's (I assume Gloria is a she, if not, let me know) comment intriging, especially since I didn't know that I was disquiet.

Dictionary.com defines disquiet as the "absence of peace." I began thinking about my absence of peace, and a few things popped to mind. First, a quote:

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars.
You have a right to be here.
And whether it is clear to you or not,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive him to be,
and whatever your labours and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham and drudgery and broken dreams
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

From "Desiderata" by Max Ehrman, 1927.

First off, I conceive God to be not exclusively male, so I'd prefer the poem said "Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive God to be..." I know, the language is a bit awkward, but it's my latest kick in life, so humor me.

I find it odd that we Christians usually refer to God as a male. (Here comes the disquiet, Gloria). I'm a Christian. My holy book is the Bible. I know the Bible refers to God as a male (even in the original languages). However, I'm one of those crazy Christians who attempts to understand the bible with at least a small bit of honest objective criticism. Should it surprise us that when men penned the words which are now collected in our present day "Bible," they choose a masculine pronoun to refer to the Deity?

In some ways, I wonder if our fascination with Mary the Mother of God is in some way a silent protest about the lack of a female presence in heaven. Aren't Mothers in some way always greater than their sons?

Think about it: we've got God the Father(a man), Jesus (a man), and the Spirit (probably another man). What about God the Mother, God the Daughter, and God the Holy Feeling? Everyone knows that if the world were left to men, we'd all be dead in a quick hurry. Wars happen because men aren't so good at talking. If the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were left to their own devices, I'm betting they'd get into a big fight and all heaven would break loose. That's where Mary comes in. Thank God she ascended to heaven to sort things out. She's a woman, which means she's smarter than all of them, but lets them think otherwise. And by God, she'll keep the other three from engaging in frivilous violence.

My wife argues that God must be a man. How else does one explain the enormous propensity for violence in the Hebrew Bible? If God were a woman, the people of Israel wouldn't have ever killed anyone. They would have talked it out. This also happens to be her argument for why America went to war in Iraq. Two prideful men (our leader and theirs) were too stubburn and just sit down a work it out. Somehow, I disagree with her first point (although I find it quite humorous), but agree with the second.

As long as I'm on America's war mongering in Iraq, I wonder what Mr. Bush would say about these well worn verses of scripture: "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth....Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matthew 5.5, 9). Maybe I just have the wrong manuscript. Surely what the bible really means is "blessed are those with the biggest army and the most wealth, for they will control the oil." (Opps...there's the subtle disquiet again)

I'm disquiet because I feel my religion is often used to manipulate. I'm disquiet because I think people take religion too seriously.

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: "Religion is to do right. It is to love, it is to serve, it is to think, it is to be humble." I espicially like "it is to think." I've met too many people who think critically about everything in their life. Everything, that is, except their faith. And that bugs me. But religion is also to be humble. For me, this means acknowledging the possiblity that I'm wrong. Or at least I should be willing to listen to others, especially those who think differently. Which reminds of another bit from "Desiderata:"

Go placidly amid the noise and haste
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly and listen to others,
even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

bush

this made me laugh. (Click on "Black Bush")

the things I miss

o mercy, what I wouldn't give
to have the things that mean the most
not to mean the things i miss

I was young once. To many, I'm still young - i'm but 27 years old. But as I write '27', i feel older than hell. Remember when you could get drunk 6 days a week and still feel great? I can't even get drunk any more. Every time I try, I have two drinks and decide I'd rather go to sleep.

I'm married, I have a beautiful child. I work too many hours. I'm everything I once wished I wouldn't be-just another average guy.

But I'm happy. How could I not be? I have a beautiful daughter. We have another little one on the way.

And you should see my wife. I married up. Way up. I like taking my wife places because it makes me look better. People meet me and think "well, whatever. At least he doesn't smell." Then they meet my wife and decide they like hanging out with me. No shit.

And my job ain't half bad. The people are nice and the pay is good.
Disclaimer: that's the most I'll likely ever say about my place of employment. People get fired for what they write in blogs, you know.

Isn't it strange how idealistic we are in our youth? I used to think I could change the world, could make the world a better place. But now, I just want to make sure my daughter thinks the world is beautiful.

Yesterday, I posted a picture of Ana. A wise reader commented: "you will forever be a rich man." Indeed, my friend.

ana

it's the little things in life that make me happy

jack attack! jack attack!

I stopped by the liquor store on the way home, with the intent to buy a fifth of Makers. Maker's marks the spot, you know.

And then the serpent slithered into the store. Uncle Jack wanted to know where I'd been. He said he wished we could talk like we used to. I told him he had sold his soul to satan. He had altered his recipe for the sake of profit. Man can not serve both God and mammon.

Jack was on sale. I live in Minnesota. We're crazy about deals. We live our lives to get a "heckova" deal. A good deal is cool, but if you get a "heckova" deal, you're livin'. So I decided to live a little bit. I gave up on my boycott of Jack (I still think they're bastards, btw), and bought a fifth of Jack. And boy, did I get one heckova a deal on it.

I know, I'm a sell out. The serpent is crafty, so beware.

It's been somewhere in the realm of six months since uncle jack and I last talked. He still feels like an old friend.