Just when I was wondering if I’d blogged about everything I could blog about, it was brought to my attention that the definition of “pervert” could use some consideration. It is a word that you get slapped with at a moment when words are the LAST thing on your mind. It seems to be the downer that follows certain types of brief euphoric experiences.
Random example, just to make sure we’re all on the same page here: A woman wearing a low cut top bends over & reveals what kind of bra she is NOT wearing. For a few moments (at least, I THINK it’s just a few moments) time slows down to where it SEEMS like an HOUR & all sounds go muffled. We spend some time thanking God for semi-photographic memory & then maybe, I don’t know, we start wondering how, if gravity would glitch temporarily & start going on-off-on-off-on-off really fast, what kind of visual effect would incur. (The reader is begged to appreciate that this is as close to “getting the heavenly vision” as some people will ever GET. Thank you for your comprehension.) THEN the lovely creature stands up, looks you straight in the eyes with her own bewitchingly beautiful brown…BAM! All goes blank. You don’t REALLY mind the stinging on your left cheek SO much because you’re a little too busy being confused about the sound resonating in your still functional ear. “PERVERT!” (End of random example.)
As a man with a driving & powerful Internet connection I tend to revert to just looking words like this up. It’s usually pretty simple. There are plenty of good dictionaries out there, written by clever people who should know ALL ABOUT these sorts of things. This SHOULD be EDUCATIONAL! If THIS is how women see me, I--I definitely want to know what it MEANS!
Definition number one: A noun. How nice, I suppose that fits me so far. A person who practices sexual perversion YOU WISH…
Or…I wish? Or I wish that SHE’d wish that I…never mind.
Definition number two. Also a noun. A person who is perverted. WHAT? How did she KNOW? Granted, as Jeremiah said, the heart of man IS DESPERATELY wicked, sure. Who can know it? But hang on a sec. Perverted from what? (Jer.9:17) Put it this way: IF I WAS as pure as the birds of the air & the beast of the field, FRESH from the creative hand of our loving God, I would have found that wench grazing under a tree, taken her from behind &, quite probably, pumped her full of every ounce of masculinity which her naked form could inspire from me.
So, what EXACTLY is she saying? Was that an accusation for my unnatural practice of denial? Well then, she would have done well to slap me harder. Maybe I would have snapped out of it & given it to her. She SHOULD be on her knees with a praise on her lips that she’s not on her knees with something ELSE up her lips.
Definition number three. (Yes, still a noun.) ”A person who has a perversion.“ Ah, okaaay! Well, well, well. I’ll tell them what I told that impertinent bottle of beer that tried to call me an alcoholic just for LOOKING at it. I said (and don’t get me wrong, I normally NEVER talk to beer bottles) “If I’m a pervert for looking at YOU…then that makes…YOU a PERVERSION!” Yeah, suck one that one for a while whilst I go re-drape myself in the garments of my long lost dignity. After an entire post-pubescent life in demoralising condemnation, it was THIER fault all along.
Unless, of course, they meant it in the imperative form, according to definition number four, as a verb instead of a noun. But IF that IS what you were saying, then it behooves you to be more faithful to PUT THE STRESS ON THE SECOND SYLLABLE. Like this: per-VERT. Get it? Per-VERT. Not PER-vert. Ok? Ok. Were they trying to tell us “to pervert” or to “stray morally”? Perhaps they’re invoking this command in the hopes that…we’ll eventually take to gawking at porn…or sheep? Or other men? I’m grasping for other logics to explain this possible alternative use of the word—EVEN though I already KNOW that looking for logic is supposed to be one of “the big No-Nos” when trying to understand women.
Oh wait. There’s another option: Is it, I dunno, POSSIBLE that this reproachful outburst could be the women berating THEMSELVES for their own dirty little thoughts? Nah? I didn’t think so.
So that brings me to the part of the post where I invent some new definition that makes everything fit together. I was going to re-categorise it as an interjection, “denoting embarrassment at being caught inducing sexual intentions in members of the opposite sex” blah, blah, blah. But you know what? This word already HAS several, perfectly good, definitions. It’s not the fault of the English language that the woman whose skirt just flew up suddenly starts blurting out words she doesn’t know the definition of. Is it? Invent your OWN word.
OR just try to be HAPPY that guys still look.
Saturday 25 October 2008
Monday 20 October 2008
Water. PTL!
When the Elerian were introduced & everyone was acquainting themselves with this new Elvish-named, horse embodied spirit help, I got down to the business of making sure that the guardianship of my revolutionary flame was all taken care of & properly initiated. The home I was visiting at the time was holding some personal prayer time during one of their devotions for this expressed purpose & everyone was doing that “pen & notebook thing” & it was promising to be very exciting.
You know how “the Lord works in mysterious ways” & all? Well I was having a really hard time getting anything &, although hearing the ten (or more) pens of the other fluent channels in the room scratching eagerly away WASN’T helping me focus any, the REAL problem was that I needed to use the facilities rather urgently. Mysterious, huh? So I took my pen & paper off to the appropriate chamber & started double tasking. And, as if Gods ways were not ALREADY past finding out enough, I was presented with THE NOISIEST plumbing condition I have ever had to concentrate under. (Of course, at this point I was, understandably, mistaking this for Obsticon’s handiwork.)
Yes, this story IS actually going somewhere. And no, desire for blog feedback has NOT driven me to toilet humour.
The water was trickling into the overhead cistern with all the enthusiasm of a rainstorm praising God on an empty oil drum. The piping piped its content as if fitted with whistles in every joint. Then some other apparatus, which I yet believe to have been located within one of the walls & whose domestic use I still cannot fathom, would sporadically sound off like some sort of fog horn on a ship full of Russians. Don’t ask, just imagine & sympathise.
“Jesus!” despairingly I cried over the torrent & din in my head, “Reveal the name of my Eleria to me.” But water is all I could hear. Water, water. “Water”? Everyone ELSE’s names were gonna be Greek or Latin sounding with Anglophonic similarities & interpretation. And I was there like “Water”? It’s 2004 & everyone wanted to live in Rivendale with pointy ears! Come on. I was in BIRMINGHAM for heaven’s sake! I was DEFINITLY expecting something more Tolkein-esque.
But look what I get:
You know how “the Lord works in mysterious ways” & all? Well I was having a really hard time getting anything &, although hearing the ten (or more) pens of the other fluent channels in the room scratching eagerly away WASN’T helping me focus any, the REAL problem was that I needed to use the facilities rather urgently. Mysterious, huh? So I took my pen & paper off to the appropriate chamber & started double tasking. And, as if Gods ways were not ALREADY past finding out enough, I was presented with THE NOISIEST plumbing condition I have ever had to concentrate under. (Of course, at this point I was, understandably, mistaking this for Obsticon’s handiwork.)
Yes, this story IS actually going somewhere. And no, desire for blog feedback has NOT driven me to toilet humour.
The water was trickling into the overhead cistern with all the enthusiasm of a rainstorm praising God on an empty oil drum. The piping piped its content as if fitted with whistles in every joint. Then some other apparatus, which I yet believe to have been located within one of the walls & whose domestic use I still cannot fathom, would sporadically sound off like some sort of fog horn on a ship full of Russians. Don’t ask, just imagine & sympathise.
“Jesus!” despairingly I cried over the torrent & din in my head, “Reveal the name of my Eleria to me.” But water is all I could hear. Water, water. “Water”? Everyone ELSE’s names were gonna be Greek or Latin sounding with Anglophonic similarities & interpretation. And I was there like “Water”? It’s 2004 & everyone wanted to live in Rivendale with pointy ears! Come on. I was in BIRMINGHAM for heaven’s sake! I was DEFINITLY expecting something more Tolkein-esque.
But look what I get:
“My name is Water Eleria. You may have been expecting a more fantastic name but this is a name you can understand.”(Yeah, no offence taken.)
“Just like your body would stagnate without fresh water, cleaning & washing away the old poisons, so it is with your spirit. Imagine yourself as a toilet, a useful vessel I’m sure you’ll agree…”Given the nature of the “secret closet” I occupied, I had to concede.
“Don’t try to go on without the water of God’s Spirit of change that I am here to bring otherwise your usefulness could be significantly compromised.”Nasty "unflushed toilet" visual springs to mind from years of faithful JJT service.
“What was food yesterday must be replaced by what God has for you today. So keep up with the changes & be refreshed daily, hourly or WHENEVER the enemy comes in with self-contentment & complacency.I guess Jesus just knows what I need?
Complacency is worse than shit! Shit is a sign of change, at least: that your ‘B’ is ‘M’ing. Complacency is like CONSTIPATIONS! Drink in the water of the Word which I have volunteered to bring to you personally. Please.” (End of message)
Monday 13 October 2008
Defining "Slut"
Not actually as simple as it seems because, despite the dictionary definitions, in SPOKEN English it’s use is pretty subjective. One dictionary definition of “slut”: A dirty, slovenly woman. See what I mean? It’s almost like we’re talking about a different word here. I say the problem is that “slut” is a “Woman Word”; which is to say that, like MANY words women use, it doesn’t MEAN, it EXPRESSES—in this case, mainly a sour grape frustration.
For example, you happen to know, from experience & hours spent naked in front of a mirror, that your breasts are your strong point. They’re what give you a head start on most other girls. They are your plan A & maybe even D. Your favourite clothes are the ones that put this “best foot” forward & God has tilted the scales in your favour. All your male friends know that that is 100% woman & they are reminded of it every time you walk in the room.
In this scenario, we can only IMAGINE your disgust when Satan invents the padded push-up bra! Yes, the degrading, artificial apparatus for the desperate & insufficient. The cunning vixen already HAS nicer legs than you, for God’s sake WHY did she have to steal your breasts? How unfair is that? It’s not that YOU CAN’T wear one too. It’s just that YOU DON’T & people need to KNOW THAT! Don’t men deserve to be warned when they’re being cheated? How does one retaliate against such lying trickery?
Aarrgh! The hormones rush to your head & a strange sound begins to hiss in your mouth & then slips out. “Slut!”
It’s like cracking your knuckles. It does this funny noise, feels good at the moment & makes pointing the finger so much more refreshing.
Here’s a more interesting definition, definitely closer to how it’s usually used: “A person, especially a woman, considered sexually promiscuous”. So basically, “Slut” is the feminine form of “Stud”? Yup, someone who has an easy time getting members of the opposite sex into the sack. But, I’m sorry, you’ll INSTANTLY notice the absence of that almost ENVIOUS tone that accompanies “Stud” when you hear the snide pronunciation of “Slut”. Because of this OBVIOUS connotation difference, this is not a definition that reflects the true message of this poignant word.
Reportedly, it’s meaning is distinguished from “bitch” by the following subtle nuance: A “slut” is a girl who sleeps with everyone, a “bitch” is a girl who sleeps with everyone EXCEPT you…Now, while that’s insightful to human nature, it’s not at ALL helpful with defining the word in question ‘cuz the poor girl doesn’t EVEN HAVE TO GET THE GUY INTO BED in order to earn this title! Maybe it’s just because she wears short skirts…or make-up? Or discreetly uses her upper arms to squeeze her breasts together when she laughs…KIND OF UNPREDICTABLE, really.
Hey! You’ll notice that “slut” is ONLY EVER used BY WOMEN--with the exception of men who have recently discovered they aren’t as special as they thought they were. (Cough--women--cough!)
“Yeah, sure, when she was having sex with ME, she was hot. When I find out she’s doing EXACTLY the SAME thing with someone ELSE, suddenly she’s a slut!” A more textbook example of hypocrisy could not be conjured. Deflated male ego kills testosterone, apparently giving way to surges of estrogen or some other feminine hormone inspiring pouty accusations.
Others use it as a synonym for “whore”, apparently forgetting that, what MAKES a whore a whore, is that she gets PAID—not usually the case with “sluts”. The very reason “slut” is almost spoken with a spit is that she’s UNDERCHARGING, undermining the market: like…like giving away free tacos just across the street from a Mexican restaurant. The resentment in the competition is that they will need to LOWER their prices to stay in business. So THAT definition’s no good either.
But it almost points us in the right direction. The USE of this word almost says MORE about the person who UTTERED it than it does about the person it was aimed at. Let’s try this definition on for size:
Slut: A word used by one woman to describe other women who will do promiscuous things she --for reasons practical, social or imaginary--won’t do.
For example, you happen to know, from experience & hours spent naked in front of a mirror, that your breasts are your strong point. They’re what give you a head start on most other girls. They are your plan A & maybe even D. Your favourite clothes are the ones that put this “best foot” forward & God has tilted the scales in your favour. All your male friends know that that is 100% woman & they are reminded of it every time you walk in the room.
In this scenario, we can only IMAGINE your disgust when Satan invents the padded push-up bra! Yes, the degrading, artificial apparatus for the desperate & insufficient. The cunning vixen already HAS nicer legs than you, for God’s sake WHY did she have to steal your breasts? How unfair is that? It’s not that YOU CAN’T wear one too. It’s just that YOU DON’T & people need to KNOW THAT! Don’t men deserve to be warned when they’re being cheated? How does one retaliate against such lying trickery?
Aarrgh! The hormones rush to your head & a strange sound begins to hiss in your mouth & then slips out. “Slut!”
It’s like cracking your knuckles. It does this funny noise, feels good at the moment & makes pointing the finger so much more refreshing.
Here’s a more interesting definition, definitely closer to how it’s usually used: “A person, especially a woman, considered sexually promiscuous”. So basically, “Slut” is the feminine form of “Stud”? Yup, someone who has an easy time getting members of the opposite sex into the sack. But, I’m sorry, you’ll INSTANTLY notice the absence of that almost ENVIOUS tone that accompanies “Stud” when you hear the snide pronunciation of “Slut”. Because of this OBVIOUS connotation difference, this is not a definition that reflects the true message of this poignant word.
Reportedly, it’s meaning is distinguished from “bitch” by the following subtle nuance: A “slut” is a girl who sleeps with everyone, a “bitch” is a girl who sleeps with everyone EXCEPT you…Now, while that’s insightful to human nature, it’s not at ALL helpful with defining the word in question ‘cuz the poor girl doesn’t EVEN HAVE TO GET THE GUY INTO BED in order to earn this title! Maybe it’s just because she wears short skirts…or make-up? Or discreetly uses her upper arms to squeeze her breasts together when she laughs…KIND OF UNPREDICTABLE, really.
Hey! You’ll notice that “slut” is ONLY EVER used BY WOMEN--with the exception of men who have recently discovered they aren’t as special as they thought they were. (Cough--women--cough!)
“Yeah, sure, when she was having sex with ME, she was hot. When I find out she’s doing EXACTLY the SAME thing with someone ELSE, suddenly she’s a slut!” A more textbook example of hypocrisy could not be conjured. Deflated male ego kills testosterone, apparently giving way to surges of estrogen or some other feminine hormone inspiring pouty accusations.
Others use it as a synonym for “whore”, apparently forgetting that, what MAKES a whore a whore, is that she gets PAID—not usually the case with “sluts”. The very reason “slut” is almost spoken with a spit is that she’s UNDERCHARGING, undermining the market: like…like giving away free tacos just across the street from a Mexican restaurant. The resentment in the competition is that they will need to LOWER their prices to stay in business. So THAT definition’s no good either.
But it almost points us in the right direction. The USE of this word almost says MORE about the person who UTTERED it than it does about the person it was aimed at. Let’s try this definition on for size:
Slut: A word used by one woman to describe other women who will do promiscuous things she --for reasons practical, social or imaginary--won’t do.
Saturday 11 October 2008
Nasty Blog Comments
Where are they? Ok, maybe I shouldn’t complain TOO loudly but after all the warnings & preparing my heart for the cruelty & dangers of the world-wide web, I’m finding this rather dull.
Maybe if I was a GIRL I’d manage to collect the deadbeat attention of some lowlife scum with nothing better to do than stalk unsuspecting bloggers? Are they REALLY so cowardly that it’s not only enough to hide behind their anonymity AND the safe distance of cyber space, but they ALSO have to stick just to picking on girls? Sure, I’d eventually delete them anyway, but it’s the THOUGHT THAT COUNTS.
Oooh! Maybe if I posted more pictures of myself...(I think I'll DO that.)
Odd: I almost feel an obligation to sympathy for the anonymous. It‘s got to be embarrassing enough that you even THINK the stuff up but that, on top of it, you can’t keep it in…it must be like pissing your pants in front of your class.
There's the smell...& the puddle...the wet patch on your trouser crotch, highlighting you incontinence.
I shudder.
It must be a demon oppression or something...We should probably pray for them.
Most of the things they say are not even true. I was on Flo’s blog the other day, she posted a pic of herself & some people were saying all sorts of HORRIBLE things that, EVEN IF they HAD been true, were just plain old ugly things to say. PLUS, they weren’t true. I can only HOPE that wasn’t supposed to be “wit”. I’d feel so sick of myself for having said that, it would probably be a few weeks before I could get an erection in my own presence again.
It would be the prelude to "giving account for every idle word".
Maybe if I was a GIRL I’d manage to collect the deadbeat attention of some lowlife scum with nothing better to do than stalk unsuspecting bloggers? Are they REALLY so cowardly that it’s not only enough to hide behind their anonymity AND the safe distance of cyber space, but they ALSO have to stick just to picking on girls? Sure, I’d eventually delete them anyway, but it’s the THOUGHT THAT COUNTS.
Oooh! Maybe if I posted more pictures of myself...(I think I'll DO that.)
Odd: I almost feel an obligation to sympathy for the anonymous. It‘s got to be embarrassing enough that you even THINK the stuff up but that, on top of it, you can’t keep it in…it must be like pissing your pants in front of your class.
There's the smell...& the puddle...the wet patch on your trouser crotch, highlighting you incontinence.
I shudder.
It must be a demon oppression or something...We should probably pray for them.
Most of the things they say are not even true. I was on Flo’s blog the other day, she posted a pic of herself & some people were saying all sorts of HORRIBLE things that, EVEN IF they HAD been true, were just plain old ugly things to say. PLUS, they weren’t true. I can only HOPE that wasn’t supposed to be “wit”. I’d feel so sick of myself for having said that, it would probably be a few weeks before I could get an erection in my own presence again.
It would be the prelude to "giving account for every idle word".
Monday 6 October 2008
For When Humour Gets Boring
So, what DO I do for fun? Well, I like hobbies that are not gonna be a waste of my time...which, I feel, rules out things like collecting stamps, playing solitaire & reading books. I REALLY like hobbies that will make my work easier! That's what I call time well spent. These profitable pass-times aren't ALWAYS easy to think up but about a year ago I invested a few days on this one...(see below)
Do me a favour & leave me your opinions & any other related feedback. Thanks. It folds in four so that the title & cartoon of the prophetic sage appear as the cover. The article text would be printed on the other side.
Please note: This article is excerpts & summarisations of more complete texts, to keep it as simple as possible due to the limited space provided here. If there appear to be blanks in the logic, write us & we'll be able to fill you in on the rest. Enjoy!
For those interested in apocalyptic biblical predictions, the 9th chapter of Daniel is a good place to start. Amongst other things, it predicts the exact timing for the first (& even second) coming of Christ & the “time of The End!”
Brief setting: The chapter opens with the prophet Daniel calling out to God to save his city (Jerusalem) & his people (Israel) who, at this time, were captive slaves of the Persian Empire (about 538 B.C.). Finally, by verse 20, Gabriel comes to him & says...
Furthermore, we discover how, in 70 sets of 7years, the world's history will be concluded & fulfilled!
The city was completed 49 (7x7) years after the decree was given. Then 434 years later (62x7) brings us to 30 A.D…the exact date Jesus was crucified, or “cut off”!
In 712 B.C. the Prophet Isaiah also uses this term in reference to Jesus' execution:
The angel Gabriel continues: 
This implies that the Anti-Christ will rise out of what was the Roman Empire (the EU?) & sign a seven year religious pact that enables the Jews to engage in the daily sacrifice, only to break it midway.
Along with what we know from other biblical texts, 3 & ½ years (42 months, 1260 days) before the end he declares himself as God & demands that all worship him & his economic system. At the end, when God's had enough, He steps in & pours out His judgments.
Matthew quotes Jesus himself referring to this passage saying,
Do me a favour & leave me your opinions & any other related feedback. Thanks. It folds in four so that the title & cartoon of the prophetic sage appear as the cover. The article text would be printed on the other side.
The 70 Sevens of Daniel
Please note: This article is excerpts & summarisations of more complete texts, to keep it as simple as possible due to the limited space provided here. If there appear to be blanks in the logic, write us & we'll be able to fill you in on the rest. Enjoy!
For those interested in apocalyptic biblical predictions, the 9th chapter of Daniel is a good place to start. Amongst other things, it predicts the exact timing for the first (& even second) coming of Christ & the “time of The End!”
Brief setting: The chapter opens with the prophet Daniel calling out to God to save his city (Jerusalem) & his people (Israel) who, at this time, were captive slaves of the Persian Empire (about 538 B.C.). Finally, by verse 20, Gabriel comes to him & says...
O Daniel, I am now come forth to give thee skill & understanding. Therefore, understand the matter, & consider the vision.Then, at verse 24, the fascinating predictions begin & the time-line is drawn.
Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people & upon the holy city...& to make reconciliation for sins...to bring in everlasting righteousness and to seal up the vision & the prophecy...(Dan.9:24)The word “weeks” is a translation from “shabua” which is Hebrew for “seven”. As we decrypt & compare these prophecies with their historic fulfillments, it becomes evident that these “sevens” are not periods of seven days, but seven “prophetic years”, (360 days or 12 months of 30-days) also called “times”. One must keep that in account when calculating biblical prophecies that are as precise as this passage!
Furthermore, we discover how, in 70 sets of 7years, the world's history will be concluded & fulfilled!
Know therefore & understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore & to build Jerusalem unto Messiah the Prince shall be [seven sevens] & [sixty-two sevens]. The street & the wall shall be built...And after 62 [sevens] shall Messiah be cut off, but not for Himself. (Dan.9:25-26a)Let's break that down. The angel accounts for a total of 69 sevens (483). 453 prophetic years before Christ, Artaxerxes Longimanus (king of the Medes & Persians) gave the cocommandment allowing the Jews to rebuild Jerusalem.
The city was completed 49 (7x7) years after the decree was given. Then 434 years later (62x7) brings us to 30 A.D…the exact date Jesus was crucified, or “cut off”!
In 712 B.C. the Prophet Isaiah also uses this term in reference to Jesus' execution:He was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people...when thou shalt make His soul an offering for sin...[He] shall justify many; for He shall bear their iniquities. (Isa.53:3-11)In a manner also fulfilling numerous other prophecies, Jesus died, making His soul the ransom payable for our sins. Try this yourself: Simply say, “God (whatever & wherever you are) if You really wrote this book & You're somewhere listening to me, I accept Your free gift of eternal salvation that Jesus paid for with His death. I ask Jesus to come into my heart & fill me with Your spirit of love, making 'His soul an offering for my sins'.” (see John.3:16)
The angel Gabriel continues: ...and the people of the prince that shall come shall destroy the city & the sanctuary;... & unto the end of the war desolations are determined.(Dan.9:26b)This prophecy was not fulfilled until 70 A.D., forty years after Jesus' crucifixion, when the Roman legions destroyed Jerusalem & the Temple. This means that the last set of seven (see next verse) is separated from the 69 first sets by an undefined period of time. We know also that when this 70th seven ends, it will bring in God's kingdom on earth (see Dan.9:24 & illustration on the cover). So this last seven is still in the future!
He (the prince that shall come, aka. the “Anti-Christ”) shall confirm the covenant with many for one [seven]: & in the midst of the [seven] he shall cause the sacrifice & oblation to cease, & for the overspreading of abomination, he shall make it desolate, even until the consummation, & that determined shall be poured upon the desolate.(Dan.9:27)
This implies that the Anti-Christ will rise out of what was the Roman Empire (the EU?) & sign a seven year religious pact that enables the Jews to engage in the daily sacrifice, only to break it midway.Along with what we know from other biblical texts, 3 & ½ years (42 months, 1260 days) before the end he declares himself as God & demands that all worship him & his economic system. At the end, when God's had enough, He steps in & pours out His judgments.
Matthew quotes Jesus himself referring to this passage saying, “When ye shall see the abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the Prophet standing in the holy place...then shall be great tribulation...Immediately after [that] tribulation the sun shall be darkened & the moon will not give her light (perhaps the aftermath of an atomic bomb?)...Then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven...& the tribes of the earth shall mourn for they shall see Him in heaven with power & great glory. Then He will send His angels with the sound of a trumpet to gather His chosen.(Mat.24:15-31)The most fascinating thing in Bible prophecy is not just figuring out & dogmatising over the future of our planet, but rather getting to know your own future & getting that sorted out! Get to know Jesus now! He loves you. Contact us to find out more--or if you have questions. We love you.
Sucker For Love
A little something you'd probably EXPECT to find on my blog:
And THIS is so people can stop saying, "Cool song...what's it talking about exactly?" Which, for me, is sort of like when I'd draw a picture & my mother would say, "Excellent dear, it almost looks like a real...one. What's it supposed to be?"
Verse 1:
So you think you’re so big, you can just do it on your own
Like the prodigal son, when he ran away from home,
'was his very own man, held his life in his own hands,
But was brought to his knees when a famine hit the land.
A fool for the system eating with the swine,
Or a fool for his daddy back home drinking wine.
Now you’re heading for the pit & I congratulate you.
Take a look at yourself & see what your pride has made you.
Will you be a sucker for the world left for bleeding & dead,
Or will you come back home work for Daddy instead?
Chorus:
I’m a sucker for love, a fool for Christ’s sake,
A slave of the cross that I choose to take.
I’m all bought up & now I’m not my own
But it’s the greatest freedom I’ve ever known.
Verse 2:
You want to out-smart life, want to buy your freedom?
Well, so did Eve in the garden of Eden
But when her naked body was raped with shame
She knew down inside she had herself to blame.
Oh, she thought she'd bend a rule, she thought she'd be no fool,
But she's the sucker now because just look who's fool she was.
Now you’re standing in the garden and the serpent will taunt you
And dare you to go, go & do as you want to
But he knows the choice is what the choice has always been:
You’re a fool for God or you’re a fool for him,
Verse 3:
Yes, I’m a sucker for love, a fool for Christ’s sake,
A slave of the cross that I choose to take.
I’m all bought up &, no, I’m not my own
But it’s the greatest kind of freedom I’ve ever, ever known.
And you know it really doesn't matter whatever you are,
A business man, a worker or a superstar,
You think you’re living for yourself? Well, you’ve been deceived,
Believing what the serpent would want you to believe!
As far as I’m concerned the choice is down to two:
A fool for God or the devil, tell me whose fool are you?
Special thanks to the very talented David Ryley for the CGI animation; Nic, Marie-Claire, Celeste & Angelique for the charming back-ups; Peter for the mixing; Julia (of Eman) who, in '93, said something about Eve's naivety in her dilemma, which later inspired the concept of this song--that our only real freedom is to choose our master.
And THIS is so people can stop saying, "Cool song...what's it talking about exactly?" Which, for me, is sort of like when I'd draw a picture & my mother would say, "Excellent dear, it almost looks like a real...one. What's it supposed to be?"
Verse 1:
So you think you’re so big, you can just do it on your own
Like the prodigal son, when he ran away from home,
'was his very own man, held his life in his own hands,
But was brought to his knees when a famine hit the land.
A fool for the system eating with the swine,
Or a fool for his daddy back home drinking wine.
Now you’re heading for the pit & I congratulate you.
Take a look at yourself & see what your pride has made you.
Will you be a sucker for the world left for bleeding & dead,
Or will you come back home work for Daddy instead?
Chorus:
I’m a sucker for love, a fool for Christ’s sake,
A slave of the cross that I choose to take.
I’m all bought up & now I’m not my own
But it’s the greatest freedom I’ve ever known.
Verse 2:
You want to out-smart life, want to buy your freedom?
Well, so did Eve in the garden of Eden
But when her naked body was raped with shame
She knew down inside she had herself to blame.
Oh, she thought she'd bend a rule, she thought she'd be no fool,
But she's the sucker now because just look who's fool she was.
Now you’re standing in the garden and the serpent will taunt you
And dare you to go, go & do as you want to
But he knows the choice is what the choice has always been:
You’re a fool for God or you’re a fool for him,
Verse 3:
Yes, I’m a sucker for love, a fool for Christ’s sake,
A slave of the cross that I choose to take.
I’m all bought up &, no, I’m not my own
But it’s the greatest kind of freedom I’ve ever, ever known.
And you know it really doesn't matter whatever you are,
A business man, a worker or a superstar,
You think you’re living for yourself? Well, you’ve been deceived,
Believing what the serpent would want you to believe!
As far as I’m concerned the choice is down to two:
A fool for God or the devil, tell me whose fool are you?
Special thanks to the very talented David Ryley for the CGI animation; Nic, Marie-Claire, Celeste & Angelique for the charming back-ups; Peter for the mixing; Julia (of Eman) who, in '93, said something about Eve's naivety in her dilemma, which later inspired the concept of this song--that our only real freedom is to choose our master.
Sunday 5 October 2008
Another Pictureless Post
You know how they always call Abraham “the Father of Faith” or “of the faithful”? As a kid I always thought that was a LITTLE unfair just because he got there first & the position was still open, ‘cuz if I heard God telling me to get to a land which I will, after, receive for an inheritance, OF COURSE I’d obey too.
But then one day, in the shower, I thought about it.
Imagine you’re Abraham. You’re trying to hear from the Lord about…stuff & in the course of the conversation He asks you to sacrifice your GREATEST pride & joy, the VESSEL through which God would make him the Father of many nations, the DOOR to the promise seed! (Not to mention the time God asked him to sacrifice his son Isaac, but I’ll get to that when we’ve covered this circumcision thing) Yes, all you male readers out there should sympathise--CHOP! Not only HIM but ALL the men in his whole bleeding tribe!
This shower time epiphany was a purely theological experience, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.
So right, “Abram” comes home from his “alone with God” time & announces that he is changing his name (yay!) &, “Oh yeah, we’re all gonna slice off our foreskins!” Say, WHAT? …something to do with a “treaty with God…”? If my shepherd got that kind of prophesy for ME there’d be some SERIOUS WTFing going on (umm, which, in THIS case would stand for “Wittle Thine own Foreskin, thou perverted NUT-JOB!”) Even if I MYSELF got that during my OWN P&P time, I…I think I’d just rebuke that & then not tell ANYONE! Yeah, you see, I’m one of those “if-it-makes-you-feel-good-or-want-to-do-good-then-it’s-the-Lord-speaking” kind of channels &, well, playing cut-outs with my holy parts falleth NOT under that category.
OF COURSE SARAH LAUGHED! Like it wasn’t already enough that he was Semitic*.
Poor thing. When her mutilated husband takes her precious son off for a weekend trip with the guys, sure, she’s at home worrying a BIT, but it’s just little, typical motherly things like, “Oh, did I pack him enough fresh socks…I hope he doesn’t slip off Mt Moriah…I hope HE DOESN’T GET TOO CLOSE TO THE BARBEQUE!”
Not a CLUE.
Abraham MUST have known that when they DO get home all safe & sound, like any mother, she’ll want to hear how it went! And when little Isaac finishes his inspiring tale of exemplary faith, what’s to say she’s not gonna throw a hissy fit & file him a restraining order? Call social services? THAT’s a man with unshakable faith.
Since I’ve ALWAYS known how the Bible stories end, I’ve grown to under-appreciate some of these guys’ implicit faith. It never occurred to me that MAYBE Daniel WASN’T so excited about having sleep-over in the lion’s den &, uhuh, there’s a chance that Moses stood on a rock, lifted his rod & DIDN’T REALLY know how things were gonna play out with all that water. What if he DID have that sneaky feeling that MAYBE he’d just wind up being some guy standing on a rock swinging his stick around? “Hey, if this doesn’t work out I can always yawn & pretend to be stretching…”
I guess what I’m saying is that REAL great faith has to be willing to ignore the limits of sanity--or EVEN what I would personally consider decent INsanity--& believe that the small voice telling you to…whatever it is it’s telling you to do—is, in fact, the Lord.
*Yes, I’m made a stereotypical “small penis” joke on Semites. Not my finest quip ever but, please, just let it go.
But then one day, in the shower, I thought about it.
Imagine you’re Abraham. You’re trying to hear from the Lord about…stuff & in the course of the conversation He asks you to sacrifice your GREATEST pride & joy, the VESSEL through which God would make him the Father of many nations, the DOOR to the promise seed! (Not to mention the time God asked him to sacrifice his son Isaac, but I’ll get to that when we’ve covered this circumcision thing) Yes, all you male readers out there should sympathise--CHOP! Not only HIM but ALL the men in his whole bleeding tribe!
This shower time epiphany was a purely theological experience, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.
So right, “Abram” comes home from his “alone with God” time & announces that he is changing his name (yay!) &, “Oh yeah, we’re all gonna slice off our foreskins!” Say, WHAT? …something to do with a “treaty with God…”? If my shepherd got that kind of prophesy for ME there’d be some SERIOUS WTFing going on (umm, which, in THIS case would stand for “Wittle Thine own Foreskin, thou perverted NUT-JOB!”) Even if I MYSELF got that during my OWN P&P time, I…I think I’d just rebuke that & then not tell ANYONE! Yeah, you see, I’m one of those “if-it-makes-you-feel-good-or-want-to-do-good-then-it’s-the-Lord-speaking” kind of channels &, well, playing cut-outs with my holy parts falleth NOT under that category.
OF COURSE SARAH LAUGHED! Like it wasn’t already enough that he was Semitic*.
Poor thing. When her mutilated husband takes her precious son off for a weekend trip with the guys, sure, she’s at home worrying a BIT, but it’s just little, typical motherly things like, “Oh, did I pack him enough fresh socks…I hope he doesn’t slip off Mt Moriah…I hope HE DOESN’T GET TOO CLOSE TO THE BARBEQUE!”
Not a CLUE.
Abraham MUST have known that when they DO get home all safe & sound, like any mother, she’ll want to hear how it went! And when little Isaac finishes his inspiring tale of exemplary faith, what’s to say she’s not gonna throw a hissy fit & file him a restraining order? Call social services? THAT’s a man with unshakable faith.
Since I’ve ALWAYS known how the Bible stories end, I’ve grown to under-appreciate some of these guys’ implicit faith. It never occurred to me that MAYBE Daniel WASN’T so excited about having sleep-over in the lion’s den &, uhuh, there’s a chance that Moses stood on a rock, lifted his rod & DIDN’T REALLY know how things were gonna play out with all that water. What if he DID have that sneaky feeling that MAYBE he’d just wind up being some guy standing on a rock swinging his stick around? “Hey, if this doesn’t work out I can always yawn & pretend to be stretching…”
I guess what I’m saying is that REAL great faith has to be willing to ignore the limits of sanity--or EVEN what I would personally consider decent INsanity--& believe that the small voice telling you to…whatever it is it’s telling you to do—is, in fact, the Lord.
*Yes, I’m made a stereotypical “small penis” joke on Semites. Not my finest quip ever but, please, just let it go.
'Cuz All is Vanity
I want to be a writer, taking tirades of thought & turning them into words.
I want to be an actor, taking words & bringing them to life.
I want to be a singer, taking life & dressing it with music.
I want to be a musician, taking music & unleashing tirades of thought.
I want to be a Witness, taking all the “abstract senses” which separate us from the animals & are the canvas of the ultimate artist, the soul who knows that the glorification of anything less than God Himself is vain. Yup, nothing more than commercial pop art for an ephemeral market.
The thing is: If I were the most wonderful & dreadful of angels, worthy to stand before God’s throne, the sole utterance fit to grace my lips would be a constant magnification of the only truly existing Life form, from which spawn the self-congratulating tangents we call our individuality.
In this realisation my life is too small & stupid to waste ANY talent or effort decorating it with vain glory.
Selfish & proud by nature, desiring the only honourable honour, I want to be a Witness, a brilliance that shines before men in such a way that they must glorify our Father which is in heaven.
I want to be an actor, taking words & bringing them to life.
I want to be a singer, taking life & dressing it with music.
I want to be a musician, taking music & unleashing tirades of thought.
I want to be a Witness, taking all the “abstract senses” which separate us from the animals & are the canvas of the ultimate artist, the soul who knows that the glorification of anything less than God Himself is vain. Yup, nothing more than commercial pop art for an ephemeral market.
The thing is: If I were the most wonderful & dreadful of angels, worthy to stand before God’s throne, the sole utterance fit to grace my lips would be a constant magnification of the only truly existing Life form, from which spawn the self-congratulating tangents we call our individuality.
In this realisation my life is too small & stupid to waste ANY talent or effort decorating it with vain glory.
Selfish & proud by nature, desiring the only honourable honour, I want to be a Witness, a brilliance that shines before men in such a way that they must glorify our Father which is in heaven.
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