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fifty years have ridden off into the sunset
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I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of
the right words to say
I know they don't sound the way
I planned them to be
But if you wait around a while
I'll make you fall for me
I promise, I promise you I will
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He put it in the bottle and he threw it out to sea
But the tide would not surrender and it floated to the beach
So the message of apology his love would never see
He walked around that island all shipwrecked and heavy
The scars of early childhood still showing on the skin
Necessary enemies so healing could begin
From the message of apology his heart might soon break free
For now he walks that island all shipwrecked and ready
Low beyond horizon lines across the salty sea
A boat without a captain makes its way to some city
He prays that it would sail its course to lover or to kin
And fan a thirst for searching and finding him again
Finding him again
Finding him again
-David
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Yeah, that basically describes it. So my first week of classes went smoothly, aided by a snow day instead of the 14-hour marathon of classes on Wednesday. Getting back into the swing of things with ministry, and life, and not-life ... am rather quickly having work. Again.
Which is good, except that now I'm getting no sleep. Again.
This would not be considered a good thing by most standards. And every time I intend to eat the food I brought from home I get a call, "You busy? You want to get something to eat and talk for a bit?"
It's very interesting.
At any rate, I'm enjoying this so far. We'll see how long it lasts before I start having to kick myself slightly before saying "Yes".
-David
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Disc 1:
-Life Got In The Way
-Everybody
-Just Remember
-Champagne High
-Come Around
-Beautiful Thing
-Swandive
-Effortlessly
-All For You
-Happy
Disc 2:
-One Love
-Your Mistake
-Change Your Mind
-Strange Cup of Tea
-Killing Me Too
-Your Winter
-Sword and Shield
-Superman
-Thank You
-Out There
-David
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So it's been a while since I updated. I know, I know.
I went to a Bette Midler concert Tuesday night. Was quite good, although some of it was boring. She did do "Wind Beneath My Wings", "The Rose", "From A Distance", and "Shiver Me Timbers" so am quite pleased. Enjoyed it.
Got the new Sister Hazel live CD, brilliantly titled LIVE*live today. Haven't listened to it yet. Got a new phone, Motorola V400, and a new plan which -- in theory -- should avoid any of those nasty "over daytime minutes" charges as now have 1000 daytime rollover+5000 N&W minutes. Phone number remains the same, for those of you who deserve it. ;-p
All is good.
-David
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I'm about to sing for you now. We're all about to sing for you now -- a song from the sea. Sometimes you get out on the sea and in the middle of the night, you can't see your hand in front of your face. There's a way to navigate, though, by the stars. I never learned.
But I always loved the sea, and stuff about the sea: sea horses, sea shells, C minuses ... stuff about the sea. Sometimes I sing this song to myself and ... I think this song isn't about the sea at all, this song is about just trying to get someplace, get out of it, get out of whatever ... just get away.
Well I'm leaving my family, I'm leaving all my friends
My body's at home, but my heart's in the wind
And the clouds are like headlines upon a new front-page sky
My tears are salt water, the moon's full and high
And I know Joe Conrad would be proud of me
Many before me have been called by the sea
To be up in the crow's nest, singing my saying
Shiver me timbers, let's all sail away
And the fog's lifting, the sand's shifting, I'm drifting on out
Old captain Ahab got nothing on me
Swallow me, don't follow me, I'm traveling alone
Blue water's my daughter, I skip like a stone
And the fog's lifting, the sand's shifting, I'm drifting on out
Old captain Ahab got nothing on me
Swallow me, don't follow me, I'm traveling alone
Blue water's my daughter, I skip like a stone
Won't you please call my family, tell them not to cry
My goodbyes are written by the moon in the sky
Say, "Hey, nobody knows me, I got no reason to stay"
Shiver me timbers, I'm sailing away
-David
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It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation: God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory ...
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory -- must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
After a pause, "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
--Mark Twain
-David
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Bush was demanding excuse to invade Iraq in January 2001, says ex-treasury secretary
By Andrew Gumbel, in Los Angeles
12 January 2004
The Bush administration started making detailed plans for the invasion of Iraq within days of coming to office, with the President himself anxious to find a pretext to overthrow Saddam Hussein, a high-ranking former cabinet member said yesterday.
The revelation is the latest in a string of potential embarrassments for the White House offered by the former treasury secretary Paul O'Neill, who has gone on the record for a new book looking at his bumpy two years at the centre of US power, The Price of Loyalty.
Mr O'Neill said invading Iraq was "topic A" at the very first meeting of President George Bush's National Security Council ...
-David
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| On Age |
| 8:13 PM, Thursday, January 08, 2004 |
My inner child is sixteen years old!
Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while adults might just accept that, I know something's gotta change. And it's gonna change, just as soon as I become an adult and get some power of my own.
How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla
-David
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You are guided by water. You are generally calm and peaceful, but you can be very destructive without even realizing it.
What force is your soul?
brought to you by Quizilla
-David
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Am in California skiing. The snow is absolutely wonderful, as it's right after a major storm, and as it's just after a holiday weekend the slopes have been pretty much deserted. Yesterday was absolutely beautiful in terms of ski conditions.
Today, on the other hand, was one of the more interesting ski days I've ever had. Actually I think it's a rather unique experience, although it's not really one I'd care to repeat.
Decided to ski at Northstar today, along with a group of six others. Went up to the top of Comstock, the chair which runs to Mt. Pluto's summit, the highest point at Northstar. Then we decided to drop down the back side of the ridge into Schaffer's Park, colloquially known as the Backside. This area is serviced only by a single high-speed detachable quad, the Backside Express.
Now imagine it's noon, most of the chairs on the lift are filled, and there are about two hundred or so people waiting in line. And then the lift breaks down.
By the time the ski patrol gets the mountain roped off, there's about three hundred people waiting below in line. The lift is still filled, and the ski patrol and maintenance people are trying to get this chair back up to cycle everyone off.
It didn't work.
Many people choose at this point to hike out. This is not a simple matter. It involves either a 4.5 mile hike to the bottom of Lookout Mountain, or a 1 mile hike up the slope, across a ridge, and then drop off to the top of Pioneer.
So Northstar calls out a fleet of snowmobiles and a couple of snowcats to bring everyone out. This involves one person riding on the snowmobile's back, with two people being towed behind in a manner similar to waterskiing.
Many people choose to give up hiking up the hill, having realized that it is not nearly as simple as it appeared to be.
The snowmobile, I should add, is not going down the hill. It is going up the hill. These are black-diamond slopes; not the piddling black diamonds that some of the east-coast readers may know, but the real ones, the stuff that's filled with bumps, powder (though most of it was skied off), and some junky snow.
There is no play in the rope. Unfortunately, this means that each time you go over a dip, the rope slacks because it acts as a chord between two points ... and then the snowmobile accelerates over the ridge of the dip and the rope pulls hard, and nearly snaps it out of your grip.
The ridgeline is very slim, as well; it barely fits two snowmobiles passing each other. Of course, there are several people who have managed to make the hike; not everyone has given up; but they take up even more space on this small path.
Finally, we make it to this orange tape set across the trees, almost as if it were a finish line. By the time we got out of the valley, my arms were aching from holding on to this tow rope, and it's now 2:30 or so.
The snowcat, which was the other option, involved cramming forty or so people into a trailer surrounded by chainlink fence, affectionately called "the cattle car". It didn't look fun, at all. And at least being towed was fun, if dangerous. I was rather scared of hitting a bump, dropping the rope, and slamming into the person behind me. Fortunately I managed not to do that.
Then, there was the way they finally had to get people off the chairlift. Three teams came down the chairlift, with a belaying rope and a metal T-bar piece. A ski patrol member climbed up the lift tower, attached the rope to the liftline, and then let it slide down to the chair. The people on the chair were then required to fasten the T-bar around their waist and then were belayed down. Unpleasant, if you ask me.
Northstar then chose to shut down two more chairs, Lookout and Comstock, as they needed people to sweep the mountain and pick up the people who made the unwise decision in hiking out.
Kudos to Northstar's lift operators for staying calm in this situation, which was apparently the first time it had happened with people on the chairlift in fifteen years. Kudos also to Northstar's management, who had drinks out at the top of Pioneer for those who were snowmobiled out, and compensated everyone who was on Backside at the time rather liberally.
I did learn the cause of the lift's problems, however. Apparently there was an electrical failure in the chairlift's main motor, which forced them to revert to the backup motor. However, there was a drive fault in the backup, which blew out the high-speed quad and would therefore only allow the low speed. Then that shaft blew, and there was apparently smoke billowing out of the motor up the top of the lift.
I think I'll not be skiing Northstar for a while.
-David
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... like completely redesign Four Seven. It only took me about three hours, too, between coding mistakes and everything.
But it looks better now.
Oh, and I actually updated it, too.
I should note that I'm not actually bored, but I just have nothing imperative to do. Which is really the same thing, when you get down to it.
-David
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