Battle of the Bands XVI

06/20/2007, 2:00 pm -- by | 1 Comment

Don’t forget to vote in the semifinals of the Genesis band name playoffs!

{democracy:67}

Bible Discussion — Exodus 9-11

06/20/2007, 12:30 pm -- by | 3 Comments

This week, Bweinh.com looks at the next three chapters of the Bible, Exodus 9-11.

Previously in Exodus: 1-4 | 5-8

The book of Genesis:
1-4 | 5-9 | 10-14 | 15-18-2 | 19-22 | 23-26 | 27-29
30-32 | 33-36 | 37-39 | 40-43 | 44-46 | 47-50

 
INTRODUCTION:
David:
The last few plagues are leveled against a rebellious Pharaoh and his servants.

Steve:
More plagues and a constant dance between Moses and Pharaoh; the latter’s stubbornness and pretended confusion causing a world of harm to his nation and its people. A few thousand years later, the Jewish leaders thought it best that one man should die for the people; here in Egypt, it was one man who doomed his people to death.

 
SOMETHING YOU’D NEVER NOTICED BEFORE:
Steve:
The conversation in chapter 11 must have occurred at the same time as the argument directly preceding, in order for the two men’s joint boasts to be accurate.

David:
Some of Pharaoh’s servants who feared the word of the Lord got their cattle out of the field before the hail fell.

 
BEST BAND NAME FROM THE PASSAGE:
Josh: Tangible Darkness, Nothing Green
Steve: Shall A Dog
David: Grievous Murrain
Chloe: Not A Hoof

Continued here!

Visiting Juarez, Mexico

06/20/2007, 10:00 am -- by | No Comments

There are rules to visiting Juarez. Don’t drink the water. Don’t eat the food. Don’t put anything in your mouth unless you want a staph infection. Don’t make the Border Patrol mad, even if you are whiter than a bleached albino. And don’t be nice to the street vendors.

The street vendors are like piranhas. Stick one toe in the water and they’re biting up to your neck, showing wares, suggesting prices, and enticing the tourist with anything that might catch their attention. The worst thing a tourist can do (besides listening to every single vendor) is tell a vendor that he’ll come back. When the tourist does come back around that way, the vendor will remember him and say, “You said when you came back you would buy my hammock. Now you are back. You must come in and buy one!”

It’s very annoying.

Generally when I go to Mexico, the best policy is to say, “No, thank you,” in the coldest voice I can muster, paying mind to look straight ahead.

After being in Mexico for several hours in 100-degree weather on Saturday, Steve and I decided to rest outside a shop while my mother and godparents looked around. A man sat down beside us and said, “I have been told by a cab driver that you are looking for prescriptions. I have many medicines that are not available anywhere else in Juarez.” He handed me his card and continued to speak about all the prescriptions he could offer us.

We had no idea what he was talking about. I had a feeling that, “No, thank you,” wasn’t going to cut it. I needed something a little more potent. “Je ne parle pas anglais.” My French accent never rang so true.

“Oh, yes!” he exclaimed, and for a moment of terror I though he was fluent in French. I’ve only taken up to French II, after all, and while my accent is deceivingly natural, my vocabulary borders on abysmal. But then I noted the confusion knitted in his brow and realized he had no idea what had just happened. Nevertheless, he continued on pitching his sale like a good soldier.

So I said, “Je parle francais. Je regret. Tu parles francais?” I handed his card to Steve. Steve does not know much French, so he examined both sides of the card, sniffed it, shook his head and handed it back to me. I gave it back to the man, who was at this point resorting to “Percocet!! I have Percocet! You know Percocet? You get it from me!” — all the while waving his hands around in mock sign language.

I said, “Il fait chaud. Eu, hot?” Some frustrated waving of the hands. “Eu, rest? Tired. Je regret, non.”

“I was told there were four of you, and you want medicine. I have Percocet! No one else has Percocet!”

“Non. No, eh, sorry.” At that that moment my godparents and mother emerged from the store. “Ah, bon!” I exclaimed, rising. “Ma famille!” and we walked away, leaving the bewildered salesman sitting on the steps with his business card in hand.

Which, by the way, advertised his acupuncture business. Yikes.

Joke of the Day, 6/20/07

06/20/2007, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

It was the last day of school and the children had lined up to deliver their gifts to the teacher. First came the florist’s son with a bouquet of flowers. Next was the daughter of the candy store owner, with a neatly wrapped box in the shape of a heart.

Then the liquor store owner’s son brought up a large box and set it on the teacher’s desk. She noticed it was leaking on the side, so she touched a drop of the liquid and brought it to her mouth. “Is it wine?,” she guessed.

“Nope,” said the boy.

She tasted another drop. “Champagne?”

“No!”

“I give up,” she said. “What is it?”

“A puppy!“

Clash of the Titans XXXI: Gun Control

06/19/2007, 12:30 pm -- by | No Comments

In this corner, opposing gun control, is MC-B!

 And in this corner, supporting gun control, is David!

Hopefully, with every Clash I submit, it becomes increasingly obvious that I’m a staunch moderate on most issues. Gun control is no exception.

First of all, many who oppose gun control would cite the “liberty” argument: our Constitution is special tells the government things it may not do, then reserves further rights to the people. Among the rights protected by the Constitution is the right to bear arms, presumably with the goal of protecting our ability to rise up and throw off the chains of oppression if the government evolves into a second reign of King George III. This is certainly an important point, but I harbor no illusions about my ability to protect myself with any amount of personal firepower if the officers of the United States military decide they want to turn the country into their own private hunting grounds.

My primary disagreement with gun control stems from my practicality and my willingness to accept the assumption that criminals can get guns if they want them. As the world becomes more globalized (which is not redundant, if you think about it), I believe that this assumption becomes increasingly true. The short version of my line of thought goes a little something like this: we can’t stop criminals from getting guns and bringing them to a variety of places, but criminals don’t generally want to die (or be injured) in the process of committing a crime.

Therefore, we should increase risks to criminals to the point at which, even though guns can be obtained quickly and easily, there is not an incredible amount of benefit to obtaining them. We can do this by increasing the police force, which is ideal for certain types of people (generally the people who could wind up on either side of the criminal-victim equation), but carries inefficiently high costs for stable people who are very, very unlikely to become criminals. For these, guns are a low-cost protection solution.

Of course, tests are needed to determine who should carry guns; it is here that my moderate side shines through and forces me to concede that there should be standards about who can carry guns. If the requirements start getting too strict and Orwellian, I suspect an average citizen would be more likely to buy an illicit gun anyway, and a revolutionary scenario would play out.

However, once a person meets these standards, most types of non-military weapon should be available to him or her, and they should be able to carry guns virtually anywhere. Think about it: where do massacres happen? The ones that have captured media attention in recent years have happened mostly in schools, where students, teachers and faculty have no means by which to defend themselves, so one gun sneaking in can be deadly.

Young people shouldn’t be allowed to have guns until they prove themselves responsible, but imagine the number of school massacres that might have played out differently if just one principal or faculty member had carried a gun to school on the day of the massacre.

Are mutually assured destruction scenarios like this unnerving? You bet. Unfortunately, for the moment it appears that the “no guns” and “no guns of a certain type” options are not available to us, and in a world of limited choices, the next-best option is for many generally rational people to have guns wherever it could potentially save lives.

Past School Shootings

Feb. 2, 1996, Moses Lake, WA — 2 students and 1 teacher killed, 1 wounded.

Feb. 19, 1997, Bethel, AK — Principal and 1 student killed, 2 wounded

Oct. 1, 1997, Pearl, MS — 2 students killed, 7 wounded

Dec. 1, 1997, West Paducah, KY — 3 students killed, 5 wounded

Dec. 15, 1997, Stamps, AR — 2 students wounded.

March 24, 1998, Jonesboro, AR — 4 students and 1 teacher killed, 10 wounded

April 24, 1998, Edinboro, PA — 1 teacher killed, 2 students wounded

May 19, 1998, Fayetteville, TN — 1 student killed

May 21, 1998, Springfield, OR — 2 students killed, 22 wounded

June 15, 1998, Richmond, VA — 1 teacher and 1 guidance counselor wounded

April 20, 1999, Littleton, CO — 14 students and 1 teacher killed, 23 wounded

May 20, 1999, Conyers, GA — 6 students injured

Nov. 19, 1999, Deming, NM — 1 student killed

Dec. 6, 1999, Fort Gibson, Okla. — 4 students wounded

Feb. 29, 2000, Mount Morris Township, MI — 1 killed (shooter and victim both 6 years old)

March 10, 2000, Savannah, GA — 2 students killed

May 26, 2000, Lake Worth, FL — 1 teacher killed

Sept. 26, 2000, New Orleans, LA — 2 students wounded

Jan. 17, 2001, Baltimore, MD — 1 student killed

March 5, 2001, Santee, CA — 2 killed, 13 wounded

March 7, 2001, Williamsport, PA — 1 wounded

March 22, 2001, Granite Hills, CA — 1 teacher and 3 students wounded.

March 30, 2001, Gary, IN — 1 student killed

Nov. 12, 2001, Caro, MI — 1 student killed

Jan. 15, 2002, New York, NY — 2 students wounded

October 28, 2002, Tucson, AZ — 4 killed

April 14, 2003, New Orleans, LA — 1 killed, 3 wounded

April 24, 2003, Red Lion, PA — 2 killed

Sept. 24, 2003, Cold Spring, MN — 2 students killed

March 21, 2005, Red Lake, MN — 10 killed

Nov. 8, 2005, Jacksboro, TN — 1 killed, 2 wounded

Aug. 24, 2006, Essex, VT — 3 killed

Sept. 26, 2006, Bailey, CO — 2 killed

Sept. 29, 2006, Cazenovia, WI — 1 killed

Oct. 3, 2006, Nickel Mines, PA — 6 killed, 5 wounded

Jan. 3, 2007, Tacoma, WA — 1 killed

April 16, 2007, Blacksburg, VA — 33 killed, 15 wounded

This list came from here and was amended to eliminate all but the number of casualties, and to remove all incidents outside the United States.

{democracy:64}

88 Keys

06/19/2007, 10:45 am -- by | No Comments

From the Best of Job, November 2005.

I destroyed a piano today.

No, seriously, destroyed it — in every way you can imagine.

I got a phone call from my old boss this morning, asking if I was free today to do some work up in Bridgeport. Since almost my entire CD collection was straight-up stolen from my Jeep and I want to replace a few choice discs, I decided to devote the day’s manual labor efforts toward rebuilding my music collection.

Ironic that this involved destroying a piano.

It was actually pretty educational. Mr. Rogers could’ve done America’s youth a great service by doing a segment where he and Mr. McFeely went postal on a grand piano. I finally learned, in sweaty and splintered detail, how those behemoths make the sound they do.

The dude who needed the piano detroyed, moved and placed in a dumpster was named Claus. He came from Sweden, and looking every bit the part of Santa, he gave me (without wrapping) a pick axe, crowbar, hammer and chisel.

English is running a little late in explaining the ineffable pleasure of sending the blunt end of a pick axe into the top of a piano. The reverberation sends shock waves through the axe handle, into your arm and through your spine, while your feet tingle from the overwhelming sensation.

I totally let go. White and black keys flew up around me as I bit my lip and brought the grand to its knees. The back end, composed of the brass fittings and tightly-wound string, fell to the ground with a loud blast of both wood and tone.

Do re mi fa so la ti doooooooooooooo

Blow after blow rained down as old wooden parts, carefully and lovingly glued together by a man long dead, met the sheer force of this millennium’s pick axe. Sentimental feelings asked to come to the surface, but I told them to return a little closer to Christmas.

Today was my day. My day to do something most people can only dream about.

I could go on and on. Destroying that piano will be remembered as the greatest moment of my year. It was indescribable. It was the musical giving tree — she gave up her musical ghost so I could re-purchase The Low Millions album.

Perfectly indescribable…

Quote of the Day, 6/19/07

06/19/2007, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

“We are all just one little cell within the Body, very full of life, but only a small part of the whole. Cells are born and cells die, but the Body lives forever.” — S. Claiborne

Genesis Semifinals

06/19/2007, 1:36 am -- by | No Comments

The semifinals are here in the Genesis battle of the bands!

And Faltering Lips has run away from the competition to move on in the Exodus contest!

Childlike Faith

06/18/2007, 4:22 pm -- by | No Comments

Matthew 18:2-4 says that in order to enter the kingdom of Heaven, we must become humble like little children. I’ve been told occasionally that this kind of humbleness means following God with an unquestioning faith, like a toddler trusting his or her parents to make everything all right and handle the affairs that are beyond a less developed mind.

God wants us to trust him for all of our needs, and there are parts of God’s plan that don’t make sense to us from our position here on the ground; these things are beyond question, especially in light of other Scriptures. However, anyone who has experience with toddlers or young children can verify the fact that “unquestioning” is almost the worst possible choice to describe these (perhaps besides “clean” and, in some cases, “courteous”). The question “Why?” seems to be the one most often asked by toddlers in their desire to better understand the world around them.

My hope is that we truly would be like children in the faith, constantly seeking answers about God and His creation. One trend that seems to be present (though perhaps decelerating, thank the Lord) in the modern American church, especially when viewed from the outside, is a distrust for intellectual pursuits and a reliance on simplistic populism to spread the gospel message. Some preach that the Gospel message is simple, which it is, but also that it is simplistic, which it is not. Why bother considering your faith intellectually if all you need to guide your walk is “feeling” God?

As a result, to the academically inclined, spiritual belief is viewed as symptomatic of intellectual death, and sometimes intellectual debate or theological discussions, which are the church’s best ways of asking itself “why” and “how” questions, are viewed by churchgoers as almost pharisaical* and not focused enough on the Spirit or the relational aspect of salvation. The emotional experiences that we associate with God are important, but they do not detract from (nor are they even completely separable from) the intellectual and/or theological roots of our faith.

Sometimes, a “because I said so” from our Father is the most complete answer that our deficient minds can process and we must therefore be content, if not satisfied, with this answer. However, we should not presuppose this answer before we ask, and believers should always ask questions of God, themselves and others, so as to be prepared to engage the world on a strong intellectual footing.

*This post brought to you by the 365 New Words-A-Year Page-A-Day Calendar.

The Council’s Ruling — Last Meal

06/18/2007, 12:30 pm -- by | No Comments

This and every Monday, the Bweinh!tributors, having convened in secret for hours of reasoned debate and consideration, will issue a brief and binding ruling on an issue of great societal import.

This week’s question — What would be your last meal, condemned to death?

The council could not issue a majority ruling on this issue.

MC-B offers this opinion, joined by Chloe, Josh, and Djere:

A steak, marinated in a container on a sunny beach in the Caribbean for 40 years and attended to by me personally. Later, fugu.

 

Mike offers this opinion, joined by Steve and Tom:

Steak, mashed potatoes, and key lime pie.

 

David offers this opinion, also joined by Tom:

Cheeseburgers and strawberry cheesecake.

 

Next week: the most troubling issue facing the world!

Ask Bweinh! Poll — Dispensable Body Parts

06/18/2007, 10:00 am -- by | No Comments

This Ask Bweinh! poll truly and honestly is brought to you by Bountiful Baking Co. of Las Cruces, NM, whose free wireless internet provides me with the ability to make this post! If you’re ever on E. Lohman Street, stop on by!

Tell ’em Bweinh! sent you!

Rank Body Part Points
1. Hair/body hair 19
2. Appendix 16
3. Eyebrow 11
4. Fingernails 8
5-6 (tie) Toenails; Earlobes 7
7-9 (tie) Belly Button; Left Foot; Pinky Finger 5
10-13 (tie) Tonsils; Little Toe; Ring Finger; Wisdom Teeth 4
Other Nipple; Funny Bone; Extra Kidney 1-3

Joke of the Day, 6/18/07

06/18/2007, 7:00 am -- by | 1 Comment

On his seventieth birthday, a man decided to treat himself to a new Corvette. Taking it out on the highway for the first time, he wanted to test its capabilities. As he pushed the car over 80, he noticed flashing lights in his rearview mirror.

A pulse of adrenaline went through his body and he started driving even faster; the needle edged past 100. For a second, he considered outrunning the officer, but then he came to his senses and pulled over.

Up to his window came the trooper, shaking his head. “Sir, I have never seen anything like this in all my years on the force. A man of your age, driving 100 miles an hour?? You better have an excuse I’ve never heard before either, or you’re going to have quite the ticket to pay.”

The man spoke immediately. “Officer, 20 years ago my wife ran off with a state trooper. I thought you were trying to return her!”

The officer was silent, then turned to walk back to his cruiser.

“You slow down and drive safely, sir.”

Clash of the Titans XXX: Barry Bonds

06/15/2007, 12:00 pm -- by | 4 Comments

In this corner, supporting the election of Barry Bonds, is Josh!

 And in this corner, opposing electing Barry Bonds to the Hall, is Djere!

Barry Bonds is the greatest baseball player of his generation, the best player I’ve ever seen and may ever see. To say he’s a Hall of Fame talent gives too much credit to many of those currently enshrined.

Some will argue his alleged steroid use has cast a black mark on the game sufficient enough to warrant his exclusion from the Hall. First, let me start by saying I have no intention of arguing that maybe he didn’t use steroids, or that it wasn’t horribly disappointing to learn of this use. He did and it was. But he still belongs.

The sheer mountain of career stats he’s amassed is nearly undeniable in its own right, but there’s more to it than that. First off, all the evidence we have, both statistical and testimonial, indicates that Bonds started using steroids at the very end of the 1990’s. By that point, he had already put together a Hall of Fame career, including being the only man in the history of the game to amass over 400 homeruns and 400 stolen bases. With the possible exception of Ken Griffey Jr., Bonds was already the best player in the game for a decade, including three MVP awards. Some players under suspicion, notably Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGuire, may have had their careers completely and fraudulently boosted by steroids. Barry Bonds is not one of them.

But it goes even further than that. Raw numbers ultimately prove inadequate at comparing players across generations. For this reason, players are pooled into eras defined by the statistical trends predominant when they played. There are any number of factors that contribute to the development of these statistical trends, and players’ numbers will always be judged first against those who played at the same time and under the same conditions. Like it or not, this has been the Steroids Era, and Barry Bonds has completely dominated this era. Plenty of players we know were taking steroids couldn’t come close to him when he was clean, and when he leveled the playing field by juicing himself, he absolutely leveled the playing field, putting up arguably the best offensive seasons ever against pitchers who were juicing themselves.

I hope baseball cleans up steroid use. But the fact remains that everyone, from the commissioner to the bleacher bum, has been complicit in what the sport of baseball became. Let’s not make Bonds the scapegoat just because he’s the defining player of the era.

Barry Bonds is a 13-time All-Star. He has earned eight Gold Gloves, has the highest On Base Percentage, On Base Plus Slugging, Plate Appearances, Games Played, Runs, Total Bases, Home Runs, RBI, Bases on Balls, Runs Created, Extra-Base Hits, Times on Base, Intentional Walks, Power/Speed Number, and At Bats per Home Run of any active baseball player. He has earned an estimated $172.7 Million Dollars in his career. He holds the record for most home runs hit in one season — 73. Barry Bonds is also no longer human.

Examine this picture. At the beginning of his career, Bonds was first and foremost a base-stealer. During the 90s, however, Bonds hulked himself out on not completely un-illegal steroids.

In his first 12 seasons, Barry averaged 37 stolen bases per season. After he BALCOed up, he earned a scant 7 and a half. In fact, over his last 5 seasons, beginning at age 35, BALCO Bonds averaged 52 homers, slugged over .700, and had a batting average in the mid .300s. Men pushing 40 do not hit .300. After hitting age 35, Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, and Hank Aaron lost their touch, declining in every statistic. Through the miracle of low-down, dirty-dog cheating, Barry Bonds did nothing but explode upwards.

And surprise! After the league started cracking down on steroid use, his numbers have declined again. Then-commissioner Fay Vincent wrote a memo in 1991 that read: “The possession, sale or use of any illegal drug or controlled substance by Major League players and personnel is strictly prohibited … [and those players involved] are subject to discipline by the Commissioner and risk permanent expulsion from the game… This prohibition applies to all illegal drugs and controlled substances, including steroids:”

Barry, ignorance of the law is not an acceptable defense. How absolutely stupid do you think I am? A representative from a laboratory brings you a cream and a liquid for you to rub on yourself and you think this is fair play?

As kids, Steve and I rented Super Baseball 2020 for the Super Nintendo. It stank. Why? Because the players were super-powerful robots. Barry Bonds broke both the letter of the commissioner’s rules and the spirit of the game, and for that, he and his ever-increasing head should be barred from Cooperstown.

And God willing, when the robots start playing baseball, they’ll be banned as well.

{democracy:63}

The Two Seas

06/15/2007, 10:00 am -- by | 3 Comments

“And falling into a place where two seas met, they ran the ship aground; and the forepart stuck fast, and remained unmovable, but the hinder part was broken with the violence of the waves” (Acts 27:41).

This verse from Paul’s voyage to Rome has always seemed a fitting analogy of my walk with God. I’m caught in this place where two great oceans crash and rage against each other for the mastery of my life, with one ocean representing the Kingdom of God and the other the world.

At times, certainly, I break free from the pull of worldly pursuits and go off and have great adventures in the Kingdom of God. I’m bi-vocational, so ministry comes and goes for me. I have preached in churches, jails, state parks, houses, streets, trailers, convenience stores and (in one case) a Laundromat. I’ve pastored, co-pastored, youth pastored and assistant pastored, serving as a part-time prophet, evangelist, pastor and teacher, as need has served. But when it’s over, no matter how I promise myself it won’t happen, I end up drifting back to this place where these two seas rage and batter me.

In these in-between times I fall back to secular pursuits, reading two to three newspapers a day, reading history, poetry, literature, and anything else I can find. I give into my passions for hockey, basketball, football and baseball. I write bad poetry and whiny songs and try again to master the guitar; I languish here in this place between two seas, feeling stuck and broken with the violence of the waves.

I know too much, and love Jesus way too much, to ever sail off into the world again. It has nothing for me. But I read their newspapers, I watch their movies and sporting events, and I fill my head and my heart with the trivialities and useless nuance of secular life. And I wait for the next assignment, not ever fully knowing whether I failed the last time, or if it just ran its course. And slowly, inexorably, inevitably, I drift back into this place between the two great oceans and become stuck, being broken by the violence of the waves. And all I can find to do is “cast out anchors from the stern, and wish for the day” (Acts 27:29).

Quote of the Day, 6/15/07

06/15/2007, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

“If every journey makes us wiser about the world, it also returns us to a sort of childhood. In alien parts, we speak more simply, in our own or some other language, more freely, unencumbered by the histories that we carry around at home, and look more excitedly, with eyes of wonder.” — P. Iyer

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