Friday Five

5. Empire State of Mind – Jay-Z feat. Alicia Keys
Rap comes and goes as something I listen to.  On this particular track I love the vibe and Alicia Keys adds a killer chorus.

4. True Faith – Anberlin
Anberlin has helped me learn to appreciate some of the music of the 80s.  Their cover of “Enjoy the Silence” led to my enjoyment of Depeche Mode.  After listening to the New Order version I have decided that Anberlin exhibited enough creativity on this track that it might almost be a new song.  It has been on or near the top of the music I’ve listened to the past few weeks.

3. I will rise up – Lyle Lovett
This came on while driving with my family over the Christmas holiday.  It is a reimagining of an old slave spiritual and contributes to my continued belief that Lyle Lovett is one of the premiere performers and songwriters of our generation.  The introduction of the horn section in the extended outro gave me chills.

2. Wonderful – Rob Thomas
Another song where the horns mean almost everything.  Cradlesong was an album where almost every song was great, a much stronger output than Something to Be.  Wonderful may well be the best song on the album.

1. Assassin – John Mayer
This may well be my favorite John Mayer song on my least favorite John Mayer album.  Much of his work pays homage to great artists on the bluesier end of Rock n’ Roll like Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Jimi Hendrix.  This song on the other hand is much closer to The Police and Peter Gabriel.  Weird samples, key changes, and the story telling are all things that make this a great song.

 

Sentences #6

The old monster rears his head.
Jekyll has come back to the surface.
I nurse him, hold him close, this version of myself.
His old securities shout, almost too loud to hear.
They drown out a quiet voice that whispers,
“You are a new creation.”

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January

January was a strange month. It started out in one of my favorite places with some of my favorite people Ottawa, with my friends from Augustine College. I returned to Toronto to face a few realities though.

First among these realities was that 2009 was not the best year of my life, not even close.  Somewhere in the process of coming home from school and turning a long distance relationship into a regular relationship I lost sight of the big picture.  I realized last month just how self-involved I had been, and to some extent still am.  I realized that I had not been able to see past my own nose, my own problems, and my own wants and desires to recognize the deleterious effects my self-involvement had on my relationships.

What I’m starting to realize is that when Christ told his disciples to die to themselves it was because the self is selfish.  When we live in Christ all our relationships find a new, right, ordering.  This ordering operates according to the original design for human relationships.  I have realized in the past month, as I’ve tried to incorporate disciplines of prayer, study, and fasting into my life, that the more I lean on Christ, the better my peripheral relationships become.  The more I turn inwards, the more I treat others like objects.  My prayer while attending Candlemas tonight was this: “Lord, let me love you first, so that I may love others through you.”

I can only care, and love, so much from myself, before what I want gets in the way.  I write this like I’ve got it figured out, but those who know me well know that the selfish me lurks and rears his ugly face far too quickly still.  I can only say I’m growing.

 

Sentences #5

We are in each others minds,
Statues and graven images of others.
Fragments, never wholly formed, even in ourselves.

 

I severely dislike the TTC (Toronto’s public transit). Years of mismanagement both of labor, costs, and construction have left us a system that is rather unpleasant to use at too high a cost.  That said, there are benefits to riding the TTC.  I have recently begun using my all-too-frequent subway trips as an opportunity to read and write. Today’s trip featured the reading of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Cost of Discipleship and prompted this post.

After I recently discovered that I was reading far less than I would like I decided to look for opportunities to read that I was overlooking. Instead of just putting my headphones in and zoning, as I’ve been prone to do, I began to pack my bag with a book, my moleskine, some stickynotes, and my trusty iPhone. Armed with this kit I read and take notes while riding the subway.  I then write drafts of posts which I save to the phone, then the drafts folder on wordpress, before posting them here.

I heard that part of the reason that N.T. Wright is able to write as much as he does is because he has a car and driver in his role as bishop of Durham. I have a subway and engineer, and plan to take full advantage of this. Although I’m sure the smell in Wright’s car is more pleasant.

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The View From the Top

I have spent the last two days in Quebec at Mont Tremblant celebrating my cousin’s upcoming nupitals aka bachelor party. We spent the better part of today skiing. I grabbed these shots in that fun.

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This one was too good to pass up.  I promise this is the last one relating to Pat Robertson for the foreseeable future (roughly the next ten minutes… just kidding).

NPR posted this letter from the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.  It is awesome.

Dear Pat Robertson,
I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I’m all over that action.

But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I’m no welcher. The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished.

Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth — glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake. Haven’t you seen “Crossroads”? Or “Damn Yankees”?

If I had a thing going with Haiti, there’d be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox — that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it — I’m just saying: Not how I roll.
You’re doing great work, Pat, and I don’t want to clip your wings — just, come on, you’re making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That’s working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.

Best, Satan

LILY COYLE, MINNEAPOLIS

I think that about sums up everything I wish I’d come up with on the matter.

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Too much to do today, so I’ll leave Buechner’s memoirs to a later date.  Instead I give you my most recent graph.

Climate Change - An History

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I have recently been on a Frederick Buechner kick.  I first read Godric when I was at Augustine College three years ago.  Since December I have read his novel Brendan and two of his memoirs, Telling Secrets and The Sacred Journey.  If I was going to recommend somewhere to start it would be The Sacred Journey for his nonfiction and Brendan for his fiction work.

Brendan was the first novel that has made me cry in a long time.  The perfection of the ending, which I won’t give away here, was astounding.  In both Brendan and Godric Buechner deals with the humanness of Saints.  In Brendan we see the title character through the eyes of his close companion and follower Finn.  Finn tells us the story of Brendan’s growth from an arrogant miracle worker to the realization that seeking glory in his deeds and his adventures matter little.  Instead, “‘to lend each other a hand when we’re falling,’ Brendan said, ‘Perhaps that’s the only work that matters in the end.’”(217)

In Godric the title character is also the main narrator.  I am rereading it after having nearly despised it the first time in my literature class at Augustine.  I have grown up a bit since then, and this novel has grown on me.  The most compelling part of this story so far is Godric’s awareness of his deep brokenness and sin, and his hagiographer, Reginald’s, firm belief in his sanctity.  Godric’s story is another one of the disconnect between self-perception, and what outsiders see.

Tomorrow I’ll talk about Telling Secrets and the Sacred Journey, two of Buechner’s memoirs.

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Beard Graph.

This one is for Tyler.

Beard Graph

With apologies to Demetri Martin

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