Behind the Pipe

My family came to visit me at work today.  My wife was bringing some books by for one of our paralegals to use with her son.  Lots of smiles and hugs, and pride.  Somewhere inside there is a lingering concern for their future, that has grown from a distant muted wail to a persistent hum.

We are all in God’s hands and Jesus wins in the end.  But the question of how to best provide and prepare them for the future is a looming question in my mind.  May God guide us down the right path.

My wife and daughter have both tagged me, which does not mean I am “it.”  It means I am supposed to write 5 things noone knows about me.  Of course, if noone knows them, there is probably a reason, and it’s probably a good one.  Being the good sport I am, though, here goes:

1.  Whether I know if anyone knows these things or not.

2.  I’m an Arminian.

3.  I lost a kitten named Anthony at a truck stop on the way to seminary in Kentucky.

4.  I killed a man just to watch him die.

5.  I love to make flower arrangements.

I have not posted in awhile.  There may be times when understatement is a slight tendency of mine.

You may reckon that in the middle of final exams for law school is not a time to resume blogging, and you may be right.  On the other hand, getting a little air now and then is good for the brain.  Only so many words can go in before a few have to trickle back out.  Space is limited between my ears.

I have three more exams to go.  I have Business Associations tomorrow, then Constitutional, then Administrative.  I will be finished next Wednesday, and then we are looking forward to visiting family and beginning my summer externship with a judge.

I recently read about a pervert suing a Christian business owner who refused to take her business.  The Christian owns a video reproduction company, I think, and the pervert wanted him to reproduce some videos extolling the pervert lifestyle.  Apparently, the Human Rights Commission for the County ordered him to take the business, but so far I think he has refused.  A similar case occurred in Canada, and that Christian business owner was ordered to pay a massive amount in legal fees, plus damages, and ordered to print letterhead for perverts and their pervert associations from now on.  I do not know how he has responded.

When we sleep while government encroaches one tippy toe at a time, we often wake up too late to get the monster out of the bedroom.  This is why the little things do matter, and “being unreasonable” is often the most reasonable thing to do.  You have to look a bit further down the road when innocuous-sounding ideas present themselves, such as not discriminating based on sexual orientation, or creating Human Rights Commissions.  Who could be against Human Rights?  Ahh, yes, who indeed.  These men (and others) now face a mountain of legal fees, obedience to an unlawful and wicked order, or feeding their families.  

On the other hand, you would think that they would learn that persecution is not a good way to stamp out the Church, militant and victorious.

We took a trip to Georgia a couple of weeks ago. Trips are both good and fun, and also tiring, and sometimes strange. This is a pic of the new Dashboard Slinkys I got at AutoZone right before the trip. They’re fun, a little weird, highly annoying to the front seat passenger, and cause some distraction for passers-by…

Pebbles is always a good sport, and here she’s ready for a ride

Here she is belching.

This is me sleeping off a good meal.

This is a pic of the wife on I-85 South in North Carolina. We do this everytime we go anywhere, but this is the last time I take a picture like this. Once I had balanced the Aquafina on the accelarator, and strapped the steering wheel in place with my Starbucks cup insulator, I had to climb out the window and onto the roof for this one. No big deal, right? Wrong, there is a massive luggage carrier strapped to the luggage rack. Once I had finished the tedious process of unstrapping and repositioning the carrier so that I could lay in a proper position next to the passenger window, I was nearly killed by some idiot swerving in his lane because he didn’t have the good sense to use a hands-free headset with his dadgum cellphone.

This is one tradition that needs to be put to rest.

The trip down wasn’t too long, but once we got there, the feeling was surreal and eerie. It was as if we had stepped into another world. This is Mom’s house, but I had never seen these shiny happy people in all my life, and yet, I had…somehow, somewhere.

It’s highly unusual for Georgia to have snow this early, but, as you can see in this pic taken after church our first Sunday there, the firs were a-covered in the white fluffy. Many people even felt like just singing right there where they found themselves standing.

The sky even seemed to have a strange creamy, off-white eggshell finish glow…

After catching a play one evening we met this lovely couple selling holly cuttings and shepherd’s crooks. That wouldn’t be so odd, except who ever puts a “Holly” sign on his donkey cart? Bizarre.

The man’s name was Roger and the lady’s name was Gertrude, and the story of their lives is quite remarkable, and sad all at once. Someday maybe I’ll post about it. Through it all, though, they have managed to maintain the same serene, almost porcelain, expressions of general pleasantness on their countenances.

This is a pic of my brother and me heading back from a night of carousing and talk of Revolution. The EPA has really put the squeeze on SUV use in the smog-ridden City of Atlanta. Apparently, though, they haven’t read the recent report about flatulent animals contributing measurable portions of methane gas to the atmosphere. I know there was contribution going on that night!

We took MARTA downtown to see the new Georgia Aquarium. As you can see in this pic, the West Virginia fans were beginning to arrive for the Sugar Bowl that night…

My mother gave us a nice present of home furnishings for our new place, so we went down to my friend George’s furniture store, Americana Furniture Showroom, in Tucker. George and his wife are good friends of mine from years ago. I actually worked for him for a little while, until I didn’t anymore. This is a pic of George trying to get his wife to forgive him for some little joke he played. Don’t you like the clocktower? George is widely known for going all-out when it comes to the WOW factor at his stores. I think the garland and gracefully drooping bows really makes it pop.

Took a little unexpected detour to the county courthouse. No need to elaborate here…

Random pic of a crack house with broken windows…Must be some of those displaced New Orleansers.

We got some curiousities here, and some undercooked books…

I’m just posting this pic to boast. I actually picked out this outfit to give to my wife. No hints, nothing. I guessed the sizes and everything. I was kind of proud. She hasn’t worn it yet, but she swears she loves it and is going to…anyday now.

This is me back home, pretending to smoke a pipe and looking over my syllabi for the current semester, which started yesterday. Semester four of law school, here I come, back from my long strange trip. Going away is good, and getting back is good. I enjoy what I do, and so I am glad to be back in the saddle. I enjoy pain and deprivation more than most. I thank God for safety and a wonderful time with family. I hope you enjoyed sharing some very special memories with me.

Land Rovers and Guiness. No clue who these guys are, but there evident genius and good taste merits recognition on this weblog.

You may be wondering where the Land Rover is. Notice the photographic wizardry employed to draw your eye to an otherwise obscure detail in an image dominated by the statuesque and studious figure in the chair. That’s right, my coffee awaits its happy fate in no less than a Land Rover mug, courtesy of Hilton Head Land Rover dealership.

The picture also explains my bloggerial absence. The latter portion of a law school semester sucks time into itself like a galactic vortex does light particles, and all that appears to the nekkid eye is a recurring image very very similar to the one depicted in this, your long-awaited and much-talked about return of the Daily Land Rover picture, such as it is.

Believe it or not, this blog is not about Land Rovers, worthy topic though that would be. I hope to do some writing soon. In the meantime, the mud has a cleansing aspect.

Sorry this is late. Blogger was having some technical difficulties. This is me and some fellow students undergoing some of our training as part of “Jerry’s Taliban.” (Yes, some dimwit newspaper reporter actually referred to us as that)

A good friend recently forwarded me an email rightly honoring the sacrifice and bravery of members of the armed forces.  Contained within the email was the following poem:

It’s the Soldier, not the reporter
who has given us the freedom of the press.

It’s the Soldier, not the poet,
who has given us the freedom of speech.

It’s the Soldier, not the politicians
that ensures our right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

It’s the Soldier who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the flag,
and whose coffin is draped by the flag.

This basic sentiment is one that I’ve heard a lot, but I’m not so sure it’s right.  The poem claims that the soldier gave us those rights.  But he didn’t, God did, if indeed they are rights at all.    

The error may be subtle, but I don’t think it’s insignificant.  If the soldier gives the rights, he may take them away.  If the soldier gives the rights, it is to him we owe allegiance (our Governmental officials deliberately swear oaths to protect a law, not a man, including a Soldier).  If the soldier gives the rights, then man (particularly Military Man) decides what is right and wrong, and therefore military success is the measure of morality.  

If, however, the soldier is viewed as one among many means given by God to ensure that men exercise their God-given freedoms responsibly without unlawful infringement, then I believe the truer perspective is maintained.  If you think about it, the press, the poet, and the statesman really have contributed a lot to the preservation of these freedoms (or rights), and when they do so, they ought to receive accolades alongside the soldier who does so.  

BUT, just as the press, poet, and politician can serve to abuse or diminish those freedoms, so can the soldier; and when they do, they ought to be deplored.  In other words, I think the subtle message is “Don’t question what the soldier does, because if it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have the right to do anything but cower before his gun.”  I can’t bring myself to agree with this line of thinking.  

Even if his gun is at my temple, and he says “Don’t talk,” I still have a right of free speech, but he has now become an abuser or usurper of that right.  But God has still given it to me, not him, and it is not his to take away, either.  

There are several implications, but one important one is that if we all have the right or freedom directly from God, then we also all have the responsibility directly, under God, to exercise it appropriately, and to protect the rights and freedoms of others to whom God has given it, even those who may be otherwise our enemies.  Soldier on, freedom-lovers!

The doctor’s news is good. She’s treatable withouth surgery, and has already shown much improvement.

Pebbles has arthritis in several joints, but it’s actually not that bad in her hip sockets (I couldn’t believe how he grabbed her legs and rotated them in directions I can’t believe they’re supposed to move.) The real culprit is the arthritis in her back.

But the problem is not the arthritis itself, it is the fact that the resulting bone spurs have either severed or put pressure on nerves to her right rear leg. There is very little wriggle room between the vertebrae. He speculates she either fractured one of these spurs or else moved her back in a way that put pressure on or severed a nerve. Her right rear leg showed decreased neurological response, and that is the side to which she normally fell (maybe always, but I sometimes didn’t see her go down until she was on the ground).

She has already improved a good bit, so whatever was bothering the nerve has at least been eased somewhat. We can treat it with glucosomine and anti-inflammatories. That will basically allow the back joints to move and rub more fluidly, and keep surrounding tissue from putting pressure on the nerves.

We have several levels of meds we can go through if she gets worse. We’re starting on the lowest rung, because it appears she is only mildly affected at this point. Surgery on her back is not really an option. It’s rarely done in humans, even, and at her age (especially by the time her condition would take to degenerate to that stage), it would more likely kill her to go through the surgery.

The other good news is that the doc said that she was otherwise in superb condition given her age. He said her heart was surprisingly strong, and that he had never seen so little muscular atrophy on a dog her age. Teeth and etc were also surprisingly good.

If you’re not a family member or close family friend, you may think all this attention is excessive. Pebbles, you must understand, is a bit of an icon–she is somewhat of a matriarchal figure in a dog kind of way, a presence to be reckoned with.

She almost always gets her way, but she does so with grace, just standing, staring and wagging her tail until you comply. Never whining or barking, except her signature “Rwoo-Rwoo!” emitted only when she’s elated with your return to her happy den, or when she knows I’m about to take her for a walk.

Navy veteran Scott Stearns wants you and me to pay for a pentagram-inscribed headstone for him when he dies.  He is a witch, and he sees no reason why he can’t have a pentagram on his headstone, just like his fellow servicemen have crosses, and whatever it is Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, and Moslems have on their headstones, courtesy of you and me.  

If all religions are on equal footing, as it is claimed our laws require, and if the government pays for the others, then why not for a witch?  Upon what basis can witches be excluded?  In 1996, the Department of Defense officially recognized Wicca as a religion, even.

Orbiting in the same ideological galaxy, unfortunately not far far away, I have a colleague who works for a major religious liberty law firm—one associated with a number of big time cases involving Christian interests.  This man recently worked on a case involving a student who was a practitioner of something akin to Voodoo.  Part of his initiation into the next level of whatever required him to do some fairly unorthodox things involving hygiene and apparel, and his school was sanctioning him for violations of its dress code.  

The details are not important.  The striking thing is that a firm renown for its work on behalf of Christians sees no conflict in taking this kid’s case against the school.  I credit them for their consistency, however.  

In their defense, to the extent they refuse cases like this their credibility diminishes in the eyes of the courts and opponents.  They will be accused of wanting not religious liberty, but Christian dominance.  

In other words, our established jurisprudence discourages you from seeking the expansion of Christ’s kingdom alone, because that would be discrimination.  Voodoo Boy needs a kingdom, too.

The basic premise is that religion is personal and so any governmental anything towards any religion (except for Christianity, which may be discriminated against because it has been too successful) for any reason is necessarily wrong (short of clearly criminal activity).  

But this is a false premise.  Religion is personal, but it is not only personal.  In reality, it profoundly shapes an individual’s communal, cultural and political activities and goals.  That seems almost too obvious to state, but it must be since it is so frequently denied or ignored (Supreme Court Chief Justice Roberts said his Catholic faith would not affect his decisions).

In fact, Christianity produced “freedom of religion” in the first place, so it only seems fair that we ought to have some say in what that means.  Unfortunately, I fear many of us have no clear conception besides what has been fed to us, but historically this is not so.

The decisive point at which we as a people must define “religion” for purposes of cultural and governmental approbation is hurtling towards us.  I hope we make the decision which truly serves the common welfare and breaches no public interest.  

I believe any expenditure of public monies to affirm witches as witches is a grave misstep.  Time to draw some unpopular lines.  God does still judge nations.

The President has revealed his nominee to replace Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor:  Harriet Miers.  No, I’m not on the cutting-edge of internet journalism, but there may be some good reason you haven’t heard that yet.  Besides, I have to prep you for what follows.

I only know a little about the nominee’s qualifications.  She may make a wonderful justice, and I hope she does, if confirmed.  However, I have a few observations about the President’s duty, the Senate’s duty, and the average citizens’ duty in the process of conferring upon her one of the highest civil offices in the land.

(I happen to think “Mother/Wife” is the highest office, but that’ll be another post…for funsies, though, think of how the culture has gone in relation to how the office of Mother/Wife has gone…note also how in present culture I have to add the slash “/Wife” to the title “Mother”).  

As you may know, most of the current Supreme Court Justices are Republican appointees.  That statement speaks for itself.   (I don’t know how many members of the larger federal judiciary are Republican appointees, but if anyone has that info, I’d love to know).  

It is a curious phenomenon to me that many of those who are the most upset with the courts in general and the Supreme Court in particular vote enthusiastically for the very men largely responsible for the perceived jurisprudential atrocities.  

That means that the citizens who vote for the presidents and senators who nominate/consent to the judges who allegedly single-handedly are making this nation a wicked place share in the responsibility for that court system.  And if we do naught to fix it, our ire is imperfect if it excludes our own political involvement.

I hear and read a lot of “us” versus “them” pronouncements about the so-called culture wars.  In the now-immortal words of Pogo, however, “I seen the enemy, and he be we.”  

Yet, I question whether we are really in culture wars.  In order for there to be “war,” there have to be enemies fighting each other, with the goal of victory and conquest on the part of each side.  I honestly don’t see that.  

What I see is more accurately described as bickering children.  Same family, same basic values, but two brats vying for the bestowal of favor by the parents, Mommy and Daddy State.  We seek benefits, not proper governance.  Or so it appears.

Should there be a culture war? Yes, I think the time is ripe, or at least ripening.  Are we in one? I doubt it.  I doubt that in general very many people are up to it, and I fear I may be one of those not ready, though I aspire to at least begin preparations.

Point One: The citizens have a responsibility to pick the right people, and if we don’t fulfill this duty, we are responsible for the subsequent failures.  

Additionally, if we don’t order our families, churches and communities so that the right people are produced in the first place, we are responsible for the subsequent failures.  

Therefore, the failings (real or perceived) of the federal judiciary are our own failings, and the remedies must also begin with us.  It’s time to stop shirking responsibility.  For good or ill, Roberts and Miers are our nominees.

Pebbles is doing better, but is not well. I still carry her up and down our steps for our nightly walks, but she is able to walk around the block without falling. She is still a little wobbly, but seems to enjoy her walks. She will see a veterinarian this Friday.

I am grateful that I have not taken my last walk with her. Those times are as much for me as they are for her. In many ways, God used her to prepare me for being a husband and father. I know, you may be thinking that’s a little nuts, but she was the first living thing for which I was directly responsible. I learned patience, teaching, provision, and even a little bit about how to be a good companion myself.

I thank God it looks like she’s not through teaching me just yet. Now I’m learning endurance and determination to keep walking when it’s tough just to stand. I am also learning ruggedly faithful service from her. Life is truly found in the mundane, oftentimes, if we can see it. Book-learning only goes so far.

I will write again sometime soon, but until then, the Rover pics should keep you surfing back.

This little beauty really takes poaching to the next level.

This is me on Bourbon Street a couple of weeks ago, confiscating guns and assorted other God-given rights.

Pebbles is my dog. I got her from a friend in 1992, the year my father died. She was one year old then. Pebbles fell down last night for no reason. And then she did it again and again.

She spreads her rear legs apart to try and gain stability when she walks or stands, but I had to practically carry her down the stairs last night to take her out, and she could barely move.

A neighbor’s Weimeraner was out at the same time, and Pebbles kept wagging her tail and going over to it, and falling down. She just got back up again wagging her tail and looking at me wondering what was going on.

This dog used to swim for an hour and a half straight. I taught her to fetch and drop by using a lake. I would throw the stick in, and she would, of course, swim in a straight line back to shore, and drop it to shake off. I would stand in that exact spot, and praise her for fetching. She would then anxiously run to my left leg and look up with big brown eyes and long pink tongue,and ears like two microwave repeater towers when I said “Ready! Ready!” winding her into bigger and bigger knots. Then when I threw the stick she became tension itself as she awaited my command “Fetch!” Like a torpedo she sliced through that water, and I remember how it always looked like she was laughing when she turned around triumphant with it in her mouth. If she couldn’t find it, she would look to shore and follow my hand signals in different directions until she came to it.

Sometimes, there would be ducks, and she would swim after them. The ducks would fly from one side of the lake and back again, only to have her chug chug chug after them ever so patiently. After this would go on for a long time, I would call her in, concerned that her deep breathing would cause her to suck water into her lungs.

Pebbles frequently jumped and caught up with deer. And she would go running with me for miles in heat and on hills (that’s gives you an idea of how long I have had her!)

But last night she fell just trying to stand next to me. I am worried about her. Prayers appreciated.

Not sure who the weird dude in the coat messing with my flock is.

The weather has begun to turn, and I am glad.  I like the seasons pretty good, but I really like the changing of the seasons better than the seasons themselves.  Actually, it’s probably a close race.  I do truly like the seasons, but I think I like the changing of the seasons better.  

Our place doesn’t have central air, so Autumn means we can take the window units out.  I hate window units passionately.  I would rather just be hot, but then contemporary culture would rather me not smell the way I do when I have just been hot for a long time.  I would rather me not smell that way, either.  I do like reading and working in a room nigh akin to a meatlocker, actually.  

I’ve seen that the attention has turned to Bush’s next appointment of a Supreme Court justice.  I pray he will select a God-fearing man who is capable in the law.  You may or may not know this, but Bush is not required to pick a judge, or even a lawyer.  He can pick Oprah if he wants.  I wonder who might be a good Supreme Court justice who is not already a lawyer or judge?  I mean besides myself…

The Dawgs are doing reasonably well.  I hope they’ll get their offense going for Tennessee.

Yes, I know you’re all wondering how far I can count in roman numerals. This will be a learning experience.

Shout out to my homeboy Bubba for this fabulicious picturmicious.

I watched Bush’s speech Thursday night, because I got the date of the season premier of “The Apprentice” mixed up.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the same man who promised to rid the world of evil in 2001 would also promise to establish the heavenly Jerusalem right there in the Delta.  Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to single him out, because I believe he speaks for most Americans when he sets the national government before us as our great hope.  There is hope, he tells us, because the national government is.

(I’m considering a personal policy of no longer referring to it as the “federal government,” even though I so enjoy the way you can snarl “the Fed” whenever you need someone/thing to blame.  “The Nat” doesn’t roll off the tongue quite the same.  Nevertheless, I think we probably should quit kidding ourselves about a federal system of government.  It doesn’t really exist, I don’t think, except in some formalities.  The states have become so many outposts of the national government, and mainly serve as a sort of farm system for politicians.  I regret it, and I wish it weren’t so, but in reality, I think we live under the rule of one centralized national government.

Some people could really care less about that, liberal or conservative, but I am not such a one.  Back to the point, however…)

Bush has promised that the national government will not only fix what was broken by the storm, but make it all better than the people themselves have been able to make it after 2 or 3 centuries of existence.  This, in my opinion, is the worst devastation wreaked by Katrina so far, if acted on by Congress and administrative agencies in question.

It is less that Bush or his speech is irksome, and more that he/it sets the nation’s heart all aflutter with the promise of national government muscle-flexing.  I’m pretty sure that he would speak differently if he had an inkling that the nation would recoil in opposition.  

But our hope for the future is in a bigger, stronger, national government with a bigger stronger military building our cities for us bigger and stronger.  Of course, to do that will mean that everyone else must be littler and weaker, from local governments to family governments, but that’s okay with us.  Come quickly, Bush, and bring the military and your army of inspector’s general who will ensure that everything is done properly.

If Bush’s plan is approved, as I expect it will be, then Katrina will have left more carnage than perhaps any other natural disaster in this country.  We have chosen our Jesus to believe in for salvation, I’m afraid.  

Unfortunately, the real Jesus destroys the fake ones, so I pray we will reconsider with all due haste.

Circumspection and discretion are valuable attributes.  Obfuscation, however, is not.  I know very little about John Roberts, and so I make no attempt to evaluate his credentials to sit on the Supreme Court.  I would rather have 100 men nominated and struck down for their integrity, than one man who is wily enough to make everyone happy.

I cannot say for sure whether Roberts is such a man, but he is working very hard, it appears, to keep from revealing any of his guiding principles.  Judicial restraint and discretion ought not be invoked to protect the right of judicial whim.  A failure to be frank about fundamental principles does not bode well.  I would prefer to see a man stake out his ground and stand on it, come what may.  It is possible to do this, I believe, without committing yourself to rule one way or another in particular cases.  

One statement in particular is suspect.  Roberts said his Catholic beliefs would not influence him.  If that is the case, then a) The secular humanists’ religion has influenced him, b) his Catholicism is not genuine, or c) he is lying.  To suggest that a man’s view of the grand questions of life has no bearing on his views of public morality (which is what law is) is not realistic.  I guess there remains possibility d) he is deceived about what his Catholic beliefs require, and/or e) he is deceived as to what the law requires.  I find these two possibilities the least likely.

Time will tell.  I hope my take on the hearings changes over the days ahead, I truly do.  And I hope Roberts will take seriously his duty to God as a minister of justice in this capacity following his much-anticipated confirmation.  Thankfully God has made His principles of justice abundantly clear, and we have no doubt what standard will be applied when we stand before His holy judgment seat.  Earthly judges ought to stand by this precedent.

This is one of my personal favorites…

The founder of Home Depot, Bernie Marcus, is building the largest aquarium in the world as a gift to Georgians for their part in the early success of his business endeavor. There a couple of things that interest me about this.

First is the sense of gratitude Marcus feels to the people who patronized his store. Gratitude. What is he grateful for? He is grateful for people exchanging their dollars for items more valuable to them than those particular dollars. How does free market capitalism account for this sense of gratitude?

Gratitude, it seems, implies a moral sense of obligation of some sort. Yet the “Market” is supposedly amoral. If it is amoral, then whey would Marcus sense a moral obligation for those whose actions were amoral? If it is simply supply and demand, how does the supplier come to be obligated to the demanders whom he supplied?

I imagine he would say he is grateful for “loyalty,” meaning, according to free market capitalistic economics, that the people kept on exchanging their dollars for the items provided in Marcus’ stores. But if they acted merely upon a self-interest to exchange dollars for items they deemed more valuable to themselves than those particular dollars, how can this be construed as “loyalty” in our understanding of loyalty as a morally-commendable attribute?

If Marcus truly acts out of gratitude, and not as a publicity ploy to motivate people to continue exchanging more and more dollars for items supplied by his store, as I assume he does, then implicit in that gratitude must be a recognition that the concept of an amoral Market is not entirely adequate. I would agree.

There is a moral dimension to the Market, I believe, and acts of loyalty and gratitude in relation to Market relationships are entirely appropriate. It really isn’t just about the bottom line. Market activity is moral activity, meaning it serves either good or evil ends, and derives its moral value from the ends served. And if market activity is moral, then we have a responsibility to participate in a way calculated to serve good ends, and to hinder evil ends.

The other interesting thing about this really is probably two things. One is the idea that a public work such as an aquarium is an effective means of conveying Marcus’ gratitude. That bears some analysis, but I’ll pass on that one for now. The second is the idea of an aquarium itself. Man has the ability and, perhaps more noteworthy, the desire to collect and nurture portions of the creation. In this case, man attempts to recreate an entire geological stratum of that creation, namely the ocean. This thing is a little ocean.

Why do we have the desire to make something like this, and subsequently to exchange hard-earned dollars to visit it? How in the world does this serve the self-interest of man? I can find no explanation outside of an innate drive to steward what is all around us for its own sake, more or less. Obviously, maintenance of a thriving creation serves our interest, but how could a thing like an aquarium serve this interest only? A part of that innate stewardship drive is an equally innate delight in things which we find in this world. That delight is basic and, properly satisfied, fundamentally good, it seems.

There may be an argument that the money is being wasted or that the drive to be the biggest in the world is a perversion, but I think fundamentally the Bernie Marcus act of gratitude can teach us a lot about the world in which we live, and the relationship we have with it and with each other. Thanks, Bernie, and thank you, Lord for this creation and our place in it.

Incidentally, I don’t believe that civic activity is the primary way to cure the bad things that God exposed with the storm. I do think we have a civic duty, but it is only one among many. Performing duty to family and Church are, in my opinion, more effective over the long term, but I, for one, have neglected my civic duty. My comments earlier primarily related to the discussion about leaders and the led, politically-speaking.

Incidentally incidentally, I read the Fed is going to pass out $2000 debit cards to the refugees (no I don’t think the term “refugees” is racist, although it would be interesting to know if it would have been applied to a city of honkies–I read one complaint about the term saying that it evoked images of third world populations, etc…NEWSFLASH…the word “refugee” is not what evoked those images, my friend). I honestly don’t know what should be done, but now we don’t throw money at them…we throw plastic at them:

“There’s a problem!”

“Where?”

“Over there…see all those black people getting on national TV making us look like something other than deity!”

“Quick, throw the money!”

“No, no, it’s no good, this is the 21st Century, they’ll be deeply offended by the latent racist message that they aren’t sophisticated enough to operate ATM’s or those irritating U-Scan machines at the PigglyWiggly.”

“Quick, throw some checks!”

“No good, the banks are all drifting towards the Caribbean, and noone has their National I.D. Cards yet. We’ve got to start implanting chips at birth….”

“Quick, throw some debit cards!”

“Ahhh, now I feel like we did some serious relief work today. Did you guys get the vid of those heroics?”

I’m not sure how, but I just have this gut feeling this can’t be the right response. Especially since I read that the reasoning was to “lure them out of the shelters on their own,” (rough quote from a Fed operative). It is difficult for me to reconcile this, if accurately reported, with a claim that the Fed is not racist in its response to this crisis. I used to use slices of loafa bread to entice Pebbles back to the house when she would run away. I understand the concept of rewarding desirable behavior, but can you get any more patroninzing?

No doubt the ingratitude and general bitchiness of almost all of the refugees I have seen in AP photos and the television set is culpable, but I do tend to think that leaders have heightened responsibility in times of crisis. That’s what they’re there for. If everything always went smoothly, we wouldn’t need them at all. If they’re no good in a crisis, what are they good for at all?

And did you hear about the Carnival Cruise ships rented by the fed for six months? No one will get on them because they think their legs are being pulled, or else they’re scared to death of being over water again, which I can understand. Debit cards and luxury liners, now there’s a photo op. But please, no dead bodies (yes, the Fed is trying to prevent the press from snapping shots of the corpses).

Watching the news of this storm seems like a very uncomfortable peer into the dark places of the human heart. There has certainly been great kindness and compassion shown, to be sure, but the news of the storm has little to do with the winds and water, and much to do with the seething evil spilling out into the open. I don’t have any one image in mind here, either. A lot of blaming has gone on, and it may be legitimate. I suspect it is, but it seems the blaming blamers are not without blame, either. At the least, the response to the perceived injustice, even if entirely accurate, is inexcusable. It certainly is not exemplary, which I believe every citizen has a right to expect from his fellow.

The leaders we have placed over us (“us” identifying all of us Americans and the municipal leaders to the national leaders) do not seem to know how to lead or where. Perhaps they have been poorly taught, but then it is their responsibility to seek out and apply wisdom, which cannot be found without getting to the beginning point–fearing God. Maybe the wind and the water can help them get to the beginning. When Job belly-ached about how tough a time he was having, “The Lord spoke to him out of the midst of the whirlwind,” and afterward he had no complaint to offer.

Katrina was bad, but the storm may be yet to come if we close our ears.

For our part, we have a responsibility to place godly leaders over us, and when we don’t, we invite this sort of thing. There I go now, blaming us, too.

But I am to blame, because I certainly have not prayed for our leaders as my duty requires me to, nor have I involved myself in the civic life of my community or nation as my duty requires me to. I have my chips and salsa when I want it, and some shiny ties, so why bother with what they are doing away off in the halls of power. I have been pacified, but I have done so voluntarily, and for that, if not for much more, I am to blame.

On top of that, I have not done nearly what my duty requires to participate in the spread of the Gospel on American soil. Katrina has blown my cover, too. We all stand together with our naked national soul exposed to the harsh element of God’s power, and it is a disturbing sight to behold, indeed.

Everyone needs a daily Land Rover to make the day go right…

Submissions welcome.

Just trying to figure out how to blog…