Because let's be honest. It's not often enough that we get to see a thumb in short shorts and moon boots...

Collectible Art Card #6: Love Song of a Vagrant

Just in case you Southerners are feeling sorry for yourselves (what with all those Cat-5s and all), I'll have you know I endured the Santa Anas today. They were blowing in the 80s even at 9:15 pm. Quoth the Chandler: "It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge." I almost got tipped over while riding home tonight.

So a couple days ago, I got a call from the office at the apartments where I live about parking. Before I get into that, I'll need to explain how parking works for me there. I get the pleasure of using assigned, covered parking. It's set up in rows and my particular row has six spots available, one of which is mine (we'll call it Spot C, as in the below diagram).

Because it's assigned parking, I park in the same spot every day. My neighbors likewise park in the same spots every day. I know their cars and they know mine. The white truck parks in Spot B, the black Nissan takes spot D, and the silver/grey Acura is in spot E. Always. Well, sometimes there's a red truck in D, but not often.

In any case, I came home from working Saturday evening and in my distraction, I actually parked in Spot D instead of Spot C (see below). I am alerted of this Sunday morning by a call from the office, telling me: "We have had several complaints. Your vehicle, or moped, is parked in the wrong spot. Your parking place is Spot C and you are currently in your neighbor's parking place. They are very angry and if you do not move your vehicle, it will be towed in 24 hrs."

Okay first things first: Moped?? I have never in my life ridden a moped - let alone owned one. It's a Vespa! Not a moped. Mopeds have pedals. Hence the moPED. Plus I think they only go like 18 mph and I wouldn't be caught dead going 18 mph. Not even in an 18 mph zone.

Next things next: Several complaints?? I was in the spot from 4:10 pm on Saturday to about 1:00 pm on Sunday. I parked there once. Accidentally. Once. How does one garner several complaints from a single incident. It's not as if the whole neighborhood was up in arms because I mistakenly took someone else's spot. Geez, I hope they weren't.

Last things last: What was the big deal anyway? Remember how I mentioned that we park in the same spots every day? And how we all know whose car is whose and which one belongs where? So if you come home expecting to park in Spot D only to find that the Vespa that is always parked in Spot C happens to be in your spot, what is the most reasonable course of action. If you guessed, Well, I'd park in the obviously vacated Spot C and hope it was a onetime occurance, oh my how wrong you would be. The most obvious course of action is to park far enough away that you have time to walk and get really steamed, go into the management office, and make several angry reports of the guy who maliciously took your parking spot. Yep. That's what I would do.

And I'm just glad to see that my neighbor had the good sense to do the same :)

Ooh, geek that I am, I cannot wait for this! I've been a big Murrow fan since seeing a doc on his career as a journalist about ten years ago on Discovery. I hear great things about this movie and Clooney's direction too.

Incidentally, I've had an Atom feed for some time now, but have never made it widely known (for my own reasons). But with my spotty posting schedule, it might be helpful for some of youse. So: here you is you syndication fiends.

Vidblog #42: Big Fat Gabba Gabba

p.s. I just realized, I have no idea who our vice president is or if we have one - though I s'pose we must, huh? p.s.s. If Hilary Clinton became president, do you think the Islamic nations (with their track record of sexist oppression) would respect us more or less than they do now?

Ahem.

So while I would not usually refer to myself as a Christian vidblogger (same stigma as Christian musician or Christan blogger), I don't think anyone who started vidblogging as late as 31 December 2004 has any right to dub themselves the first of any kind of vidblogger (caveat*: he may be the First Vidblogger to Start Vidblogging on 31 December 2004).

Still, he does claim to take the nickname lightly. Prolly like I do with my nickname: The First Male Blogger Born with Innate Common Sense (Whereas Everybody Else Had to Purchase It). In any case, someone should be happy, there is a new vidblog in the works and it should be delivered in the next coupla days.

* note: for Wendy.

Overheard from a very conservative girl speaking about her step-brother:

I used to have the biggest crush on his boyfriend.

When God makes a judgment upon a person or nation, don't we usually see him declare that judgment? I mean, really, what's the point of making a judgment if no one is aware that there is any judgment going on?

Example: I wake up one day and my two kids are gone. Vanished. Until I find the letter from the state alerting me that they have taken my children into protective custody as a result of my bad parenting - I told my eldests daughter that Chris Ware's Jimmy Corrigan was more beautiful than anything penned by Shakespeare - until I receive that notification, I cannot be aware that there was any sort of judgment involved at all. I cannot be aware that there was any causal relationship between my extolling of Ware virtues and my daughters' disappearances. In fact, there are any number of more plausible explanations for their missingness (kidnapping or forgotten sleepover being prime suspects).

So I imagine the case to be with God and the myriad horrible events that sweep across the world as time marches on. Why would God render a judgment yet not make that judgment known? It seems he would need some sort of prophet or harbinger to point us toward these things. Because otherwise, we're left to guesswork - and really, what's the point of rendering a judgment (a public thing) if no one can recognize it.

And this is a tangential taste of the reason why I do not believe that God judges nations today, postcrux. Of course, Pentacostals can get around this easy - as they actually do believe in contemporary prophecies. The li'l nuts.

I thought about what I don't like about Christian fiction, generally, and it is this. We can't put words in God's mouth. We cannot pretend to know the mind of God. We are lying if we say we can know why he decided Aunt Jen would have faith in him but Uncle Ted would think Aunt Jen was nuts. And this is what most Christian fiction writers are doing. They are pretending to be God in that they determine the actions of God.

If someone crafts a beautifully wrought tale of a twenty-something's road through degradation, skepticism, and horror on her way to a cathartic redemption, he has decided to become God for the duration of the story. Essentially, the author has decided that God will grant faith unto said character simply because the author wishes it. There is no accurate portrayal of God in these things. They are fiction and their portrayal of God, of Christ, is just as fictitious.

And y'know what? There is only one thing I don't think we have the liberty to take creative liberties with: God. And everything intimately tied to his nature, mind, and character. 'Cuz then you're just creating a false God.

The raddest thing I've discovered in ages on the interthing just happens to a LibraryThing (BETA). There are still a lot of improvements ahead, but for now - coolness, Park.