Bumper sticker of the day:

You Can't Spell "Crap" Without "Rap"

I pretty much agree with that kernel of truth. In fact, I argue that rap in itself is not music, nor does it resemble any form of art...well, maybe the art of narcissism, opulence, ego, addiction, misogyny, hedonism, and failure. Is it wrong of me to not "get" rap because of all that? More later...

It's a picture like this that makes me think of "home." This is a North Dakota sunset taken from where my Dad and I go fishing, Lake Darling! One of the most beautiful spots I have been to. Maybe it's beautiful because that's where my Dad and I have poured ourselves out talking and reliving stories and memories all while watching for the slightest twitch or movement from our bobbers...waiting for the elusive "esox" to come and try his luck with the "pros from Dover." I wish I was there now. More later...

Currently and loudly listening to the above in the Ipod in heavy rotation. Check 'em out. The Thin Lizzy album is definitely worth a listen...it rocks hard! Armin Van Buuren...amazing DJ...great work out music or for driving like a maniac. TobyMac is just awesome! Marillion is moody, vibey, surreal, and layered. Saga is Canada's number two rock show behind Rush...great live CD, full of energy and tight prog playing. Can you see how eclectic I am in music taste people? More later...

HAPPY FAT TUESDAY PEOPLE!

HOPE YOU STUFF YOURSELVES SILLY!

"EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY, FOR TOMORROW WE'll DIE!"
Dave Matthews Band

Well, we actually die to ourselves so that we are aware of our mortality...focusing us even more to the shadow of the cross we stand in. What really needs to die is my own ego, the self, the privilege of living as an arrogant American christian. Wearing that humiliating mark, that symbol of death on my forehead reminds me that the cross does not allow me to live as I want to live: in comfort, indifference, regret, shame, or futility. My life exists always in the tension between the shadow of the cross and the emptiness of the tomb. My life is convicted by the sacrifice of who hung on that cross as it rejoices in the departure of who defeated death out of a tomb. My life needs this journey, this 40 day trek, to penitentially see just how much damage I have created between how I live and how God wants me to live.

I always live in this frustration with me and God. This time of the year asks that I be honest with that life, and that I try to see the mortal nature of who I am in comparison to the eternal nature of who I want to be, who I am training myself to be, who I am trying to become. That I try to live in bringing the kingdom of God here and now, as opposed to looking forward to it, sometime when I die. That's true, but if all I am doing is taking up space on this planet and waiting for my great reward in some far off distant gated community where God lives, my life is nothing but an excuse, or maybe a series of excuses made to make me feel better about how I live, and not how God keeps insisting I am invited to live.

This Ash Wednesday for me, is about sitting in the ancient tradition of sackcloth and ashes, mourning and grieving the death of who I am, who I pride myself to be, who I arrogantly put myself out there as, and who I want to be applauded for being. This Ash Wednesday is about coming back to feeling the breath of God breathe into me, new life. A new life in which helps me be connective to others, pointing to them the breath of God filling their lives, bringing them back to life. This new life liberates me from being attached to my self-serving devices. What a way to live! More later...

When will the press, the lawyers, the emotionally detached family members, and fame pimps, the tourists, and gawkers, and countless lovers LEAVE Anna Nicole Smith ALONE? I am getting sick and tired of hearing about how this poor woman is being disrespected in death as she was in life. It makes me sick to think that this woman's worth is now narrowed down to her estate or her DNA. The sad victim in this is her five month old baby girl. That girl is going to have some baggage to deal with definitely. But, please for the love of God, leave the dead alone. Respect the dead. Unfortunately, when a half billion dollar estate is up for grabs, there is no such thing as respecting the dead.

I do feel sorry for Anna Nicole Smith, who seemed like a lonely person. Yes, she had a few friends, but for the most part, she died alone. This woman had her ups and downs in life, we all do. The media made her out to be this crazy, screwed up, gold-digger who underneath all that make-up and boobs was just another woman who came from the trailer park in no-where Texas. The media loved to gawk at her, mock her, and dance around her as if she was the freak. The true freak in all this is the savage, brutal, and uncaring way people continue to want a piece of her. Yes, she was wealthy, some might say beautiful, and funny, but I can imagine that she was incredibly unhappy deep down inside. You can only maintain this public persona for so long before it begins to eat away at the soul. I can imagine her soul was all but gone, eaten by the public who used her, including the people she called family - her so called mother, her so called "fiance" lawyer, and her so called daughter's daddy. These people suck! Leave her alone. Bury the woman and let her rest in peace jerks.

I wonder if from the best seats in heaven, Anna and her older, oil tycoon husband J. Howard Marshall are simply flipping the world off, wishing a fond farewell to those who want a piece of her, a fairly quick trip to hell. Probably not the most loving thing to do from heaven, but then again, watching people fight over your body, baby, and wealth proves just how stupid, arrogant, and desperate people are to gain the world, but lose their souls. Seeing this whole thing unfold, makes me ask the question, "What is this life without good friends, good sensibility, and a good heart?" Rest eternal grant Anna, O Lord; and let light perpetual shine upon her. More later...