Le premier mois que j’ai passé à Bierbeekstraat était un voyage spirituel. J’étais seul avec moi-même sans rien faire sauf réfléchir, penser, prier, lire et étudier les écritures sacrées. Je travaillais de huit heures du matin jusqu'à cinq heures du soir. En rentrant chez moi chaque soir, je me suis mis à penser à ma vie et aux chois que j’avais faits, and à réfléchir au but de la vie et combien je vivais en accord avec la volonté de mon Père céleste. C’était un passage difficile, une exploration interne dans laquelle j’ai dû hasarder la découverte de mes propres fautes, de mes problèmes et de mes défectuosités.
C’est pour cela que je crois bien que la prière est plutôt un parcours de découverte. La vie quotidienne peut facilement nous distraire du but de la vie. En fait, je crois que c’est pour cela qu’il faut passer notre vie par terre : pour démontrer à Dieu que l’on veut Le suivre, Lui obéir, et choisir le bien. C’est peut-être facile de faire ce qui est juste et correcte quand l’on se trouve devant le trône de Dieu and lorsque l’on habite en sa présence. Mais lorsque l’on est loin de Lui et seul et distrait par la vie et les amusements—et bien les travaux—qui s’y trouvent, c’est là où se trouve le vrai caractère de cette personne. L’on ne se connaît pas vraiment avant de se mettre dans l’expérience et les situations réelles de la vie.
Dieu vit. Il n’est pas un sentiment ou le produit de l’imagination des hommes. Il est réel. Il nous connaît. Il nous voit. Il sait tout ce que nous faisons, pensons et espérons. Il suit notre vie avec une intéresse paternelle. Il veut que nous choisissions bien, que nous fassions de bons choix pour que nous puissions avoir le bonheur. Il sait comme un père le sait ce qui est le plus important pour ses enfants, ce qui mènera au bonheur et ce qui mènera à la tristesse. C’est pour cela qu’il nous a donné des commandements et veut que nous lui obéissons—ce n’est pas pour nous ennuyer ou pour nous donner des taches difficiles, mais pour nous aider à bien naviguer la vie, pour trouver le bonheur et pour nous préparer, si nous choisissons toujours le bien, à retourner vivre avec Lui.
C’était à Bierbeekstraat que j’ai redécouvert ces vérités essentielles et éternelles. Les bénédictions de Dieu nous entourent et nous suivent. Souvent lorsque l’on en a besoin le plus, elles sont là, nous encerclant, sans que l’on le sache. Même—et surtout—à Bierbeekstraat, le désert sec de notre vie, Dieu nous connaît et nous bénit. J’en suis témoin.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Getting lyrics all wrong
I have an incorrigible tendency to get lyrics wrong to songs. There are all sorts of reasons I've come up with to explain this pathetic phenomenon, but I'm not going there. I know I'm not alone, but this tendency is obnoxious.
Here are some examples, in no particular order, as they come to mind:
1. The CCR song "It Ain't Me" for some reason translated into "Ganymede" (as in the pock-marked Jupiterian moon and whatever oddball of Greek mythology the moon was named after). I even humiliated myself by correcting someone who called it, strangely enough, by its correct name (which, if you haven't been paying attention, is "It Ain't Me").
2. "Blinded by the Light" has tripped up countless people. What I think few people know is that Bruce Sprinsteen, as yet undiscovered, wrote the lyrics. I have no personal knowledge of this, but I don't have any personal knowledge about much of anything, so I think it's ok to say it with that beautiful disclaimer.
3. Talking about CCR (John Fogerty runs my head in silly directions, apparently), "Proud Mary" baffles me. I'm pretty sure that something happened in Memphis and something else in New Orleans, but I'm not sure what.
4. "Band on the Run" by the Wings became "Man on the Run" in my little, twisted mind. I'm not sure what either means, but I'm sure it refers to something important--at least of commensurate importance with this post.
5. When I was younger than I am today (that should narrow it down), "That's All" came out by Genesis. I thought it was called "That Song" for a while. When I discovered the true name I also soon discovered that I wasn't the only one confused--I was signing it in the car the correct way when a sibling of mine corrected me "It's not 'That Song,' it's 'That's All.'" Rather than be annoyed that I had sung it right and got told what I knew, I think I was kind of proud that anyone could recognize the honks and beeps coming out of my mouth as any particular song.
The list could go on. You get the point. I should like to point out, however, that with every bit of idiot in us, there's a touch of savant. By way of example, I may butcher every other songs lyrics, but I've always known what the words to "Louie, Louie" are.
Test me sometime.
Here are some examples, in no particular order, as they come to mind:
1. The CCR song "It Ain't Me" for some reason translated into "Ganymede" (as in the pock-marked Jupiterian moon and whatever oddball of Greek mythology the moon was named after). I even humiliated myself by correcting someone who called it, strangely enough, by its correct name (which, if you haven't been paying attention, is "It Ain't Me").
2. "Blinded by the Light" has tripped up countless people. What I think few people know is that Bruce Sprinsteen, as yet undiscovered, wrote the lyrics. I have no personal knowledge of this, but I don't have any personal knowledge about much of anything, so I think it's ok to say it with that beautiful disclaimer.
3. Talking about CCR (John Fogerty runs my head in silly directions, apparently), "Proud Mary" baffles me. I'm pretty sure that something happened in Memphis and something else in New Orleans, but I'm not sure what.
4. "Band on the Run" by the Wings became "Man on the Run" in my little, twisted mind. I'm not sure what either means, but I'm sure it refers to something important--at least of commensurate importance with this post.
5. When I was younger than I am today (that should narrow it down), "That's All" came out by Genesis. I thought it was called "That Song" for a while. When I discovered the true name I also soon discovered that I wasn't the only one confused--I was signing it in the car the correct way when a sibling of mine corrected me "It's not 'That Song,' it's 'That's All.'" Rather than be annoyed that I had sung it right and got told what I knew, I think I was kind of proud that anyone could recognize the honks and beeps coming out of my mouth as any particular song.
The list could go on. You get the point. I should like to point out, however, that with every bit of idiot in us, there's a touch of savant. By way of example, I may butcher every other songs lyrics, but I've always known what the words to "Louie, Louie" are.
Test me sometime.
The Eighth Dwarf
It's interesting on some obscure level that Disney chose to name his seven dwarfs: "Bashful," "Doc," "Dopey," "Grumpy," "Happy," "Sleepy" and "Sneezy." Bashful, Grumpy and Happy are also adjectives used to describe personality chracteristics. Doc is usually thought to denote a profession or the existence of a professional degree, and is a noun. Dopey does not so much speak to a personality trait as it does to being drugged up or stupid (if you choose to argue with me, please first visit http://www.etymonline.com/, where you'll find this: [dope 1807, Amer.Eng., "sauce, gravy," from Du. doop "thick dipping sauce." Extension to "drug" is 1889, from practice of smoking semi-liquid opium preparation. Meaning "foolish, stupid person" is older (1851) and may have a sense of "thick-headed." Sense of "inside information" (1901) may come from knowing before the race which horse had been drugged to influence performance. Dope-fiend is attested from 1896.] Sleepy primarily refers to lethargy, not so much a personality trait as a circumstantial condition. And Sneezy presumably refers to a health-related predisposition.
Where is the logic? Can we extrapolate from these seven the likely name of the eighth? I would like to propose that both of my readers try to come up with the most logical eighth dwarf name.
[NOTE: I've been working hard today and my Red Sox lost and I have the right to be inane.]
Where is the logic? Can we extrapolate from these seven the likely name of the eighth? I would like to propose that both of my readers try to come up with the most logical eighth dwarf name.
[NOTE: I've been working hard today and my Red Sox lost and I have the right to be inane.]
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Critical factoid of the week
Gravity in the Hudson Bay and surrounding areas is lower than in other parts of the world.
I propose dumping all of the world's landfills there to solve this critical problem. If we don't, I predict that our landfills will continue to get more and more full, which could lead to junk piling up everywhere, which could lead to messy yards, which could lead to a lot of homeowners associations being insensed, which could lead to a lot of assessments against homeowners, which could lead to law suits, which could lead to the lawyers producing more paper work product, which could lead to deforestation, shifting climates, and all sorts of terrible environmental catastrophes.
If you support my proposal, please contact Stephen Harper.
Thank you.
I propose dumping all of the world's landfills there to solve this critical problem. If we don't, I predict that our landfills will continue to get more and more full, which could lead to junk piling up everywhere, which could lead to messy yards, which could lead to a lot of homeowners associations being insensed, which could lead to a lot of assessments against homeowners, which could lead to law suits, which could lead to the lawyers producing more paper work product, which could lead to deforestation, shifting climates, and all sorts of terrible environmental catastrophes.
If you support my proposal, please contact Stephen Harper.
Thank you.
My non-shared environment
There is a theory of personality psychology that says (in rough terms) that the differences between siblings are fundamentally connected to their non-shared experiences (or non-shared environment). This almost seems axiomatic, but the implications are interesting. Experiences unique to a child do more to define that child's personality or psychopathology than those experiences shared with other children of the same parents. Unique experiences are powerful. It stands to reason, I believe, that the more homogeneous the experiences of a group of siblings, the more powerful the non-shared experiences are in determining differences in personality.
When I look at the six children in my parents' family--my three sisters and two brothers and myself--I see some definite similarities and definite differences. Considering that the only likely readers of this will be my relatives, I'm going to list some of my unique experiences that jump out at me as odd. I'm not sure the ones that strike me as odd are any more or less significant than ones that are so routine that I can't remember them, but they're the ones I remember and care to mention. I also don't pretend to know how these experiences make me different (if indeed they do have any measurable impact on me). I only list them because they are for whatever reason memorable to me. Why have I had some of these experiences, how did I get myself in to them, and why did I make the choices I did?
I doubt any of these are terribly interesting, but here they are anyhow. The sole criterion I rely on is that these experiences happened to me without any of my siblings present.
1. As a teen, I ran on the tracks down a dark tunnel late at night in the Paris subway, inches from the third rail (with high current) to avoid having to wait for the next train.
2. When I was five, I piled a huge amount of styrofoam against a certain hotel in a certain town in Switzerland and lit it on fire with matches I had taken from a box behind the concierge's desk. A man chastized me, but didn't stop me.
3. As an adult, a sweaty, stinky co-worker grabbed me from behind in a bear hug (we had been chasing a nerf basketball down the hall and he was caught in a frenzy of excitement apparently when I beat him to the ball). I was so repulsed that I turned around and punched him repeatedly in the stomach.
4. I missed the bus home as a sophomore in high school and rather than pay thirty cents to take the city bus, I walked 10 miles to my grandmother's house, where I asked her to drive me the last few miles home.
5. When I was about 8 or 9, I dropped my dues for Cub Scouts in tall grass on my way to den meeting and spent the whole meeting looking for the dues rather than go to the meeting. I never found them. The dues were a dime.
6. When I was 3 years old I witnessed my neighbors' house being robbed and gave a statement to the police.
7. When I was 10, I pushed my 6-year old neighbor on a space trolley and he fell about 15 feet and hit his head on some rocks and had to get stitches.
8. When I was 14 I piloted a large yacht across Long Island Sound in a storm.
9. When I was 14 or so, I walked home about .8 miles from my school bus stop with my eyes closed in rural part of the Tucson desert and opened my eyes to find three coyotes standing there staring at me--two in front and one behind.
10. When I was newly married, I hit and killed a javelina (peccary) with my car.
I just realized I have countless of these silly little experiences. Some are a little sad and I don't mention them, though those are sometimes perhaps the most profound psychologically (such as getting lost).
Maybe my dear relatives reading this are nodding their heads knowingly and saying to themselves, "Now I understand!" Perhaps they are also stroking their chins and squiting as they nod. In fact, there are all sorts of cliche behaviors they could be engaging in.
So, my question du jour: what cliche behavior are you engaging in at this very second? If none, please describe what cliche behavior you would be engaging in if you were engaging in cliche behavior.
When I look at the six children in my parents' family--my three sisters and two brothers and myself--I see some definite similarities and definite differences. Considering that the only likely readers of this will be my relatives, I'm going to list some of my unique experiences that jump out at me as odd. I'm not sure the ones that strike me as odd are any more or less significant than ones that are so routine that I can't remember them, but they're the ones I remember and care to mention. I also don't pretend to know how these experiences make me different (if indeed they do have any measurable impact on me). I only list them because they are for whatever reason memorable to me. Why have I had some of these experiences, how did I get myself in to them, and why did I make the choices I did?
I doubt any of these are terribly interesting, but here they are anyhow. The sole criterion I rely on is that these experiences happened to me without any of my siblings present.
1. As a teen, I ran on the tracks down a dark tunnel late at night in the Paris subway, inches from the third rail (with high current) to avoid having to wait for the next train.
2. When I was five, I piled a huge amount of styrofoam against a certain hotel in a certain town in Switzerland and lit it on fire with matches I had taken from a box behind the concierge's desk. A man chastized me, but didn't stop me.
3. As an adult, a sweaty, stinky co-worker grabbed me from behind in a bear hug (we had been chasing a nerf basketball down the hall and he was caught in a frenzy of excitement apparently when I beat him to the ball). I was so repulsed that I turned around and punched him repeatedly in the stomach.
4. I missed the bus home as a sophomore in high school and rather than pay thirty cents to take the city bus, I walked 10 miles to my grandmother's house, where I asked her to drive me the last few miles home.
5. When I was about 8 or 9, I dropped my dues for Cub Scouts in tall grass on my way to den meeting and spent the whole meeting looking for the dues rather than go to the meeting. I never found them. The dues were a dime.
6. When I was 3 years old I witnessed my neighbors' house being robbed and gave a statement to the police.
7. When I was 10, I pushed my 6-year old neighbor on a space trolley and he fell about 15 feet and hit his head on some rocks and had to get stitches.
8. When I was 14 I piloted a large yacht across Long Island Sound in a storm.
9. When I was 14 or so, I walked home about .8 miles from my school bus stop with my eyes closed in rural part of the Tucson desert and opened my eyes to find three coyotes standing there staring at me--two in front and one behind.
10. When I was newly married, I hit and killed a javelina (peccary) with my car.
I just realized I have countless of these silly little experiences. Some are a little sad and I don't mention them, though those are sometimes perhaps the most profound psychologically (such as getting lost).
Maybe my dear relatives reading this are nodding their heads knowingly and saying to themselves, "Now I understand!" Perhaps they are also stroking their chins and squiting as they nod. In fact, there are all sorts of cliche behaviors they could be engaging in.
So, my question du jour: what cliche behavior are you engaging in at this very second? If none, please describe what cliche behavior you would be engaging in if you were engaging in cliche behavior.
The Holy Cow candidate
I, like not a few Americans, have been following the presidential hopefuls since the beginning of the year. I think the race is down to seven--Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama and that one Edwards guy from South Carolina--oh, yeah, John--on the one side. On the other are Rudy Giuliani, Mitt Romney, Fred Thompson and that McCain guy from Arizona--oh, yeah, John. I'm tempted to dump the two Johns off this list. John Edwards seems to be plummeting because he looks more like a student body president than a U.S. President--and possibly other reasons. And McCain seems to have let his native charm get in the way of things. In fact, I think Clinton pretty much has the donkey side all wrapped up.
But the elephant side is a real mess. You've got Giuliani who has been through a few marriages and is pro-choice as a matter of public policy, which has got much of the Republicans a bit concerned. You've got Mitt Romney, who really has lost some credibility with the political expediency thing (his positions on abortion and same-sex marriage have migrated). You've got Fred Thompson who is great at drawling about stuff and things, y'know, and stuff. I think Fred Thompson is being figured out, though. I've seen more articles in the past week insisting that Fred Thompson is not out of the game yet. Very encouraging for him.
I really think it's probably down to three, when we boil things down a bit: Clinton, Giuliani and Romney.
There's something to be said about each one: Clinton has clout and strength and recognizability; Giuliani has a pinched nose, recognizability, and an affable toughness about him; Romney has that hairdo.
But I've been trying to dig deep on Romney. He's kind of the wildcard (with all apologies to Tancredo). There's the "Mormon question" that's haunting him. He's always being praised and slammed for "looking presidential" (I would ask what that means, but John Edwards and Dan Quayle have accidentally answered that for us) and for being really, really smart. I mean, we can only go through so much change at a time, right?
But I read an article from Atlantic Monthly that is quite interesting. It addressed a lot of my questions about whether this guy is for real or only skin deep. I think it's a must read.
In any case, the primaries are that far away. (And by "are" I mean "aren't.") Romney has been leading the polls in New Hampshire and Iowa, while Giuliani leads the national polls handily on the Republican side. Clinton has been dominating the Democratic side for a while now.
One thing to consider on Romney is this: should we trust a candidate who punishes his son for his parents' mistake with his own name? Between Mitt and Tagg, I can't help but feel like I'm playing a game of pickle with my brother circa 1978.
But the elephant side is a real mess. You've got Giuliani who has been through a few marriages and is pro-choice as a matter of public policy, which has got much of the Republicans a bit concerned. You've got Mitt Romney, who really has lost some credibility with the political expediency thing (his positions on abortion and same-sex marriage have migrated). You've got Fred Thompson who is great at drawling about stuff and things, y'know, and stuff. I think Fred Thompson is being figured out, though. I've seen more articles in the past week insisting that Fred Thompson is not out of the game yet. Very encouraging for him.
I really think it's probably down to three, when we boil things down a bit: Clinton, Giuliani and Romney.
There's something to be said about each one: Clinton has clout and strength and recognizability; Giuliani has a pinched nose, recognizability, and an affable toughness about him; Romney has that hairdo.
But I've been trying to dig deep on Romney. He's kind of the wildcard (with all apologies to Tancredo). There's the "Mormon question" that's haunting him. He's always being praised and slammed for "looking presidential" (I would ask what that means, but John Edwards and Dan Quayle have accidentally answered that for us) and for being really, really smart. I mean, we can only go through so much change at a time, right?
But I read an article from Atlantic Monthly that is quite interesting. It addressed a lot of my questions about whether this guy is for real or only skin deep. I think it's a must read.
In any case, the primaries are that far away. (And by "are" I mean "aren't.") Romney has been leading the polls in New Hampshire and Iowa, while Giuliani leads the national polls handily on the Republican side. Clinton has been dominating the Democratic side for a while now.
One thing to consider on Romney is this: should we trust a candidate who punishes his son for his parents' mistake with his own name? Between Mitt and Tagg, I can't help but feel like I'm playing a game of pickle with my brother circa 1978.
Al Gore and the Nobel Peach Prize
That should read "Nobel Peace Prize" really, but it might as well say "Peach" because I have no idea what this is about. We all know Gore has been pretty active in the whole global warming thing in recent years. His hair has changed, his weight has fluctuated, his clothing style has mutated, his accent has deepened, but Al Gore has been remarkably consistent in his message that the world is doomed due to global warming. I admire his tenacity and sense of mission. I've never really been drawn to the man, but that might be because he's a politician, even if retired in a way (at least from public office).
The thing I don't get is why he is sharing the Peach Prize. I mean Peace Prize. (My fingers have a mind of their own.) And it's not the sharing, it's the Peace Prize thing. Didn't Linus Pauling win that too? It's not like it's always about peace, but I have no idea what crusading against global warming has to do with peace. Perhaps it unifies the world in a common cause, thus bringing us together in brotherly love and kindness (like happens in a lot of science fiction stories).
So, I'm looking for answers. I'm guessing George Bush wasn't on the short list this year. Of course, Jimmy Carter won it a few years ago and I think Georgia's known as the Peach State, so maybe it all makes sense in the end.
The thing I don't get is why he is sharing the Peach Prize. I mean Peace Prize. (My fingers have a mind of their own.) And it's not the sharing, it's the Peace Prize thing. Didn't Linus Pauling win that too? It's not like it's always about peace, but I have no idea what crusading against global warming has to do with peace. Perhaps it unifies the world in a common cause, thus bringing us together in brotherly love and kindness (like happens in a lot of science fiction stories).
So, I'm looking for answers. I'm guessing George Bush wasn't on the short list this year. Of course, Jimmy Carter won it a few years ago and I think Georgia's known as the Peach State, so maybe it all makes sense in the end.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
