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| sly irish: hello standtobecounted: How are you sir? sly irish: i am doing mighty fine, and you? sly irish: i bet your having the night of your life standtobecounted: you bet (cheesy smile, thumbs up) sly irish: wonderful! standtobecounted: (yawn) sly irish: eheeh standtobecounted: lol. standtobecounted: how was your evening....err... nightday? sly irish: not too bad sly irish: went to the basketball game over at OBU standtobecounted: how was that? standtobecounted: we won? standtobecounted: (excitedly) sly irish: the usual no standtobecounted: (sad look sneaks in) standtobecounted: (kicks the floor with sneaker) standtobecounted: (sigh) sly irish: i'm sorry my information has caused you so much pain standtobecounted: say something to take the pain away sly irish: (drops head) sly irish: i like moose sly irish: they're nice creatures sly irish: do you like moose? standtobecounted: the chocolate kind, yes sly irish: ahh yes sly irish: of course standtobecounted: I like moose, but LOVE Creme' Brule sly irish: not sure i've had that standtobecounted: LOVE sly irish: maybe i should try it sometime standtobecounted: Dear Diary, standtobecounted: Sean hasn't had creme brule standtobecounted: It makes me wonder what kind of tribe hey grew up in... what sort of primative native land does he call his own? standtobecounted: I suppose I shall never know such mysteries. standtobecounted: Until Then, Joshua standtobecounted: P.s. standtobecounted: This fuzzy pink pen is the best. standtobecounted: (end entry) sly irish: niiiiice standtobecounted: (bows) sly irish: maybe i'll change my color to pink sly irish: forever standtobecounted: ME TOO standtobecounted: until it becomes cool sly irish: it's a good call sly irish: yeah standtobecounted: and then I will have to go with yellow or something standtobecounted: I don't do cool. sly irish: cool is just too cool standtobecounted: well said standtobecounted: very poetic sly irish: why thank you sly irish: i've been meditating on it all day standtobecounted: (single tear) standtobecounted: and it shows. standtobecounted: (shuts eyes to soak it in) standtobecounted: breathes deeply) sly irish: (tears) standtobecounted: (half smile) standtobecounted: okay. sly irish: (fart) standtobecounted: (nodd) okay sly irish: excuse me standtobecounted: (looks around) sly irish:  standtobecounted: (coughs to self) standtobecounted: (pretends not to have noticed) sly irish: (drops head, regretting what was said) sly irish: (feeling embarressed at his crudeness) standtobecounted: (fakes giving birth to alleviate the akwardness) standtobecounted: I think my water just broke. sly irish: (drops mouth in amazement) sly irish: (wonders if that is possible) standtobecounted: you think your shocked sly irish: i think so standtobecounted: but there was that time standtobecounted: in the Orange Groves of Florida standtobecounted: with the sun setting upon the brow of the migrant workers standtobecounted: the faint hint of tamales in the air sly irish: yummy standtobecounted: (snaps out of flashback) standtobecounted: where am I, how long have I been out? sly irish: i don't know sly irish: when did you leave us? standtobecounted: wait. standtobecounted: who it (long pause) us standtobecounted: ? sly irish: uhhh..... standtobecounted: let me ask you a question. sly irish: alrighty standtobecounted: Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon? sly irish: only when i watch pocahantas standtobecounted: he he standtobecounted: I don't have pocahantas sheets. sly irish: a shame, a shame standtobecounted: not on my bed right now. standtobecounted: they are most certainly not hidden under my new kids on the block comforter. standtobecounted: nope. sly irish: maybe your kids ate them standtobecounted: (scared eyes) standtobecounted: (stopped breathing) sly irish: (waiting in eager anticipation) standtobecounted: (swallows hard) standtobecounted: (gulp) sly irish: (not sure what is to be waited on) standtobecounted: (is unsure as well) standtobecounted: (rests his head randomly on Sean's shoulder) sly irish: (sean shoulder dislocates) sly irish: (screams in pain) standtobecounted: I think you might be my father. sly irish: (looks around, not sure what to think) standtobecounted: I didn't want to tell you like this, with a dislocated shoulder but I also need to tell you I have an unusually heavy head. sly irish: (other shoulder dislocates) standtobecounted: wow, I could pretty much just slap you all I want right now and you couldnt' do a thing standtobecounted: I could probably even slap you with your own hand sly irish: well, i can lock my door standtobecounted: (slap) standtobecounted: yep, sure can. sly irish: ouch, what? sly irish: how? standtobecounted: the miracle of instant messaging standtobecounted: (evil laugh turns into a cough) standtobecounted: excuse me. sly irish: (looks around a little worried) standtobecounted: I'm sorry. I would hug you but... you are like a glass man. standtobecounted: every time I show you affection you break. sly irish: you just slapped a glass man? sly irish: and i did break standtobecounted: twice sly irish: (cringes in pain) sly irish: (because his body is in pieces) standtobecounted: I'm so sorry.... Dad. sly irish: it's ok, sonny standtobecounted: (cue dramatic orchestra music) standtobecounted: (but not the Brokeback Mountain kind... cause it sounds kinda gay cowboy) standtobecounted: Can I say "g.c" is that politically correct? sly irish: i don't know sly irish: it might not be standtobecounted: Or should I say Homosexual Cowperson? sly irish: or maybe rancher standtobecounted: perhaps standtobecounted: Alternative Lifestyle Rancher sly irish: there you go standtobecounted: Thanks for your help. standtobecounted: I wouldn't want to be branded (notice the use of pun) a homophobe. sly irish signed on at 11:30:40 PM. sly irish: I'm glad i could assist standtobecounted: I wouldn't want to be branded (notice the use of pun) a homophobe. standtobecounted: (pre recorded laughter) sly irish: ha-ha-ha-ha standtobecounted: You only laugh to hide the tears. standtobecounted: You are a crying clown with a painted on smile. standtobecounted: Why won't you open up to me Sean, why won't you let me inside? sly irish: because there's not much room sly irish: it's pretty crowded in there standtobecounted: oh, well thats cool. standtobecounted: have you tried Fung Sheing it? sly irish: i have not standtobecounted: I can help. standtobecounted: a houseplant or two. sly irish: that would definitely be a nice touch standtobecounted: (putting on a smock, to decorate of course) standtobecounted: (practicing lisp) sly irish: (thinking "what a wacko") standtobecounted: that was not politically correct. standtobecounted: Savage, only if you'd had creme brule. sly irish: that is why it was though, not said sly irish: yeah, i should get some creme brule standtobecounted: seriously, it is amazing. sly irish: is it a chocolate thing? standtobecounted: no... a vanilla carmel pudding type of thing that defies description. standtobecounted: the top is hard and sweet.... and the inside all creamy. sly irish: wow sly irish: yeah, i'm going to have to get some standtobecounted: I love it. standtobecounted: I can almost taste it now. standtobecounted: what do you like? sly irish: i like ice cream sly irish: lots of ice cream standtobecounted: yum standtobecounted: I'm not a big ice cream fan, though. sly irish: i'm always up for ice cream standtobecounted: how's it go standtobecounted: about screaming and ice cream and everyone sly irish: i scream sly irish: you scream sly irish: we all scream sly irish: for ice cream sly irish: ahhh...that's a classic standtobecounted: it is scary is what it is sly irish: you crazy standtobecounted: children screaming and stuff sly irish: but they're screaming for ice cream standtobecounted: but it is still a fearful response sly irish: that maybe standtobecounted: or an addiction standtobecounted: ice cream is the crack cocaine of the younger generations standtobecounted: we need to do something. sly irish: well standtobecounted: or we are going to have little people walking around as ice cream prostitutes. sly irish: it may be addictive, but i like it sly irish: i like that idea standtobecounted: ah ah ah aha ha ha ah aha standtobecounted: I support you in it. standtobecounted: You would sale your body for ice cream. sly irish: well, yeah, of course sly irish: it is ice cream we're talking about standtobecounted: I would sale my body for Creme Brule... to each prostitute his own, thats what I've always said. sly irish: i concur standtobecounted: Play rough, play fast, never slow the temp down... Marching Band sly irish: hmmm sly irish: sounds like it standtobecounted: shhh... somebody is calling me standtobecounted: act like we are asleep standtobecounted: (eyes shut) sly irish: (snoring) sly irish: (stirs uneasily) sly irish: (settles back into a restful sleep) standtobecounted: okay, its stopped. standtobecounted: close one. sly irish: wonderful standtobecounted: You are wonderful. sly irish: that's what i strive for standtobecounted: no matter what your parents and friends say. sly irish: well thank you, mr. shawnee sly irish: i deeply appreciate it standtobecounted: No problem, Mr. O'brian. sly irish: (holding back tears) sly irish: O'Brien standtobecounted: say, is that Jewish... O'brien? sly irish: Now I am crying, i feel deeply insulted standtobecounted: ummm.... why? standtobecounted: I'm Jewish and I happen to think Jewish is sexy. sly irish: not jewish, IRISH!!!! sly irish: oh, is it sly irish: never mind then standtobecounted: (look at me gesture) sly irish: (looking) standtobecounted: I was coming on to you.... geesh standtobecounted: stupid.... rishes (new slang I created for Irish people) sly irish: hey! sly irish: you...j-wish sly irish: (i also created that new slang) sly irish: (for jewish people) standtobecounted: (cue West side story Jets and Sharks fighting music) standtobecounted: (snap, snap,snap,snap out of tempo) sly irish: i'm feeling the adrenaline standtobecounted: It is the ice cream you junky. sly irish: yes.....ice cream...... standtobecounted: Rish Junky. sly irish: my precious standtobecounted: te he standtobecounted: I am precious in my own eyes. sly irish: in everyone's eyes you mean standtobecounted: thats what I meant. standtobecounted: thankyou for clarifying. sly irish: my pleasure standtobecounted: hey, I'm really sorry about breaking you into a million pieces. standtobecounted: things escalated so quickly... it just got out of hand. sly irish: i feel a little hurt about it sly irish: but it's in the past sly irish: you are forgiven sly irish: i have forgotten standtobecounted: you can forgive, but you cannot forget. sly irish: forget what? sly irish: i don't remember standtobecounted: (cue alternative lifetyle rancher music) standtobecounted: (singing) I have to sing at Church tomorrow and it is getting late and I think I shall save this conversation because it is comic genius standtobecounted: (big breath for high note) standtobecounted: (sung) G'night! sly irish: it will be a classic, fo' sho' sly irish: Have a wonderful close to your night standtobecounted: Thanks ice cream ho standtobecounted: see you later. sly irish: you're welcome j-wish | | |
| It is really quite interesting to be a practicing Anglican on Ash Wednesday. For starters this Holy Day, the beginning of the season known as Lent, is not observed by most Christians in this part of the world. As a result very few of our Brothers and Sisters in Christ know what on earth is going on, and for that matter, neither do many Episcopalians. This leads to the kind of day that can only be understood as odd.
As it is one of two required Fast Days, the first thing that strikes one as odd is an unfamiliar sensation coming from the stomach region of one’s body. Most third world countries refer to this sensation simply as “hunger” and we on this day experience but an embarrassing hint of what most people on our planet experience everyday, all day. Yet we labor on in this our great sacrifice, trying not to show on our faces the weight of such a noble action. But it does bother us, a great deal actually, or at least it bothers me. I, to be quite honest, dread it. When I don’t get to eat I get moody and grumpy. I am prone to headaches and have been known to grow faint at the lack of abundance to which I have grown so accustomed. Hunger is the key to Lent. I would venture to say that this key affects not only me, but Anglicans worldwide as well. It’s kind of funny when you think about it, a day on which the Worldwide Anglican Communion is collectively grumpy and frumpy, or at least even more so than usual. No wonder we start with the Kyrie and Christe Eleisons during Ash Wednesday. It is an honest to goodness plea that God will, in mercy, deliver the world from another Anglican fast.
The next oddity belonging to this High Holy Day is the smudge of ash that we receive on our foreheads that, which I am told, is supposed to resemble a cross. We go to Church and, as if being hungry isn’t bad enough, are then told “from dust you came and to dust you shall return.” It hits you like brick, I’m going to die. What is all of this for? Am I ready? What happens then? And then, somehow, from the hunger and ash rise a sincere and honest conviction to get ready, to prepare for our own death, burial, and resurrection and that of Jesus the Christ in Holy Week and Easter. Preparation is the key to Lent. But not only to prepare ourselves, but the world in which we live, the people whose lives intersect ours, to prepare our schools, our workplaces, our governments, our relationships, and yes, our bodies and souls for that which we so expectantly wait. Maybe, just maybe, all of the hunger, and penitence, and fasting, and ash is worth it.
For me it becomes worth it pretty soon, because you get to look around and see how stupid everyone looks with gunk on their heads, never mind that you have some gunk on your forehead as well. Then you go out to eat or back to work or school, back to your normal life and everyone looks at you like you have grown a third eye. People try to pretend they don’t notice and then end starring at it or better yet, try and wipe it off themselves (usually other people’s parents and grandparents, maybe an occasional teacher will do this). Eventually a random friend or passing child will inquire as to what is on your head and the whys and what fors and you realize the preparation has begun. It is Lent, prepare. | | |
| So I went to see a movie tonight with a friend of mine and it... well... put a few things in perpective for me.
I'm going to stop trying to be perfect. I suck at it and it just makes me unhappy.
Also, I know what I want more than anything in the world and its not what I pretend to want more than anything in the world and that is just plain stupid.
I'm happy right now with things just the way they are and that's okay.
I'm okay. | | |
| "Somebody More Like You"
-Nickle Creek
I didn't hear you say you're sorry The fault must be mine I wish you all the best of luck At finding somebody more like you
You said you'd love me always, truly I must have changed Cause you don't need me like you used to I hope you find somebody more like you
I hope you finally find someone Someone that you trust And give him everything I hope you meet someone your height So you can see eye-to-eye With someone as small as you
You came out of nowhere, made me smile Then tore me in two Saying, "We're very different people" So dear, I hope you find somebody more like you
I hope you find somebody more like you
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| December 2005
My dear brothers and sisters:
During these hectic days leading up to Christmas we are invited to pause, reflect and prepare ourselves to receive anew the One who comes among us as a newborn child. The readings appointed for the Advent season have to do with waiting and listening with expectant and hope-filled hearts for the Prince of Peace. Such waiting and expectation is a sharp contradiction to much that surrounds us and to the fear and hostility that abound across our globe. Also at this time, the forces of nature have conspired to underscore our vulnerability and the impermanence of the mark we make upon the earth. This is not an easy season in which to live.
Recently I found myself waiting in an airport, as I often do, and was caught up in the discrepancy between what I was reading in the newspaper before me and what I was hearing from a near-by television set. The subject was the same but the interpretations were completely different and the language used to defend the positions was fiercely polarizing. Where did the truth lie?
In this season of Advent, as we make our way toward Bethlehem and ponder once again the great mystery of the Incarnation, I find myself reflecting upon the fact that speech or word is the medium of divine self-disclosure: "the word was made flesh and lived among us." I am also reminded that in Hebrew dabar, which means word, also can mean event or occurrence. Words are not only spoken, they happen. In the Book of Genesis God speaks creation into being, and in the Incarnation God speaks his love into flesh in the person of Jesus. Divine speech conveys more than information, it conveys God's ever-creating and self-giving love as an active force and power. Words therefore can possess a sacramental value and speaking can be a sacred act.
Even so, we see and hear around us language increasingly being used to inflame, mislead, polarize and otherwise divide. This is true not only in our national life but in some measure in our church as well. This is not to say that dissent or criticism are unwelcome, or that all voices should be harmonious, but simply that words matter because words matter to God and therefore they should not be the means to unholy ends. Words should not be the product of our fears and hostilities. Holy words can sometimes cloak unholy sentiments and purposes. As Paul tells us, Satan is able to masquerade as an angel of light. The language we use to describe and address those whose opinions differ from our own can either foster or destroy the possibility of discovering Christ in our midst beyond or below the level of our disagreements. Therefore, words should be used in the fullness of their potential to convey something of God's loving care which embraces the whole creation.
"If I speak with the tongues of mortals and of angels, but have not love," Paul tells us, "I am a noisy gong or a clanging symbol." Our speech may be filled with righteousness yet if it lacks the animating force of love the words, however noble and true, will have little chance of revealing Christ. When we are defensive or threatened it is well to remember that in such situations, as Jesus tells us, "the Holy Spirit will teach you at that very hour what you ought to say." Through the agency of the Spirit, Christ enlivens our speech often by forming in us words which we had not intended to say: words of grace and healing and hope which open a way forward such as we had never imagined and catch us all by surprise. At such moments anger dissipates and is replaced by mercy, and judgment is transmuted to understanding. I have certainly been overtaken by such moments and I am sure you have been as well. Such is the nature of God's grace.
As we contemplate the outpouring of God's self-giving love through which the Word became flesh in Jesus, we might take a counter cultural step and attend with greater care to the words we speak and the words we write. Let us pray our words may carry with them what God most truly wishes to express.
May Jesus, the Word made flesh, speak his love deep within us. And may our words be his word of reconciliation which has overcome all division and gives hope to our needy world.
The Most Rev. Frank T. Griswold Presiding Bishop and Primate The Episcopal Church, USA
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