GOD pushed the smite button, did He?

OK, let me deal with the lunacy that ALWAYS spews forth from the mouths preachers and wannabe "prophets of GOD-uh" whenever there is a catastrophe,
natural or otherwise.
Rather, let me let God Himself deal with it:

1 God, having of old time spoken unto the fathers in the prophets by divers portions and in divers manners, 2 hath at the end of these days spoken unto us in his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom also he made the worlds; Hebrews 1:1-2

Well, that says it all. God is NOT speaking through new prophets, through wind or fire, or through a televangelist. He has spoken through His Son. The message of Jesus Christ is what God has spoken. Little things like "Love your neighbor as yourself", and "If you love Me, you will keep My commandments". Uncomfortable things like Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to the whole creation. 16 He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned. (Mark 16:15,16).


The wind is the wind. The rain is the rain. Neither is constant, nor readable. God's Word does not change. His Truth is settled in the heavens. We are rational beings, who are created in the image of a rational God. Therefore, He does not speak to us through the climatic equivalent of a rolled-up newspaper. He speaks through the Word, not by pressing the "Smite" button.


So, in Jesus' Name, SHUT UP. Be muzzled, even. Stop blaspheming our loving Father.

Now, I was not going to drag politics into this horror, but C Ray Nagin,
the redoubtable mayor of New Orleans, has been whining that if they weren't black, the citizens would have been rescued by now.
Let's see...Nawlins has been under Democrat leadership since, oh, FOREVER, and has developed such a gimmee mentality, leaders elected with promises of MORE gimmees for the proles.
Liberal Democrats have been in control.
Liberal Democrats had NO EFFECTIVE PLAN in place for a disaster that all knew was going to hit.
Liberal Democrats now play the race card, and whine that an unprecedented catastrophe has not been fixed by the waving of the Presidential Magic Wand.

Now THAT'S effective leadership.

WOW! HE'S BACK!

I have ridden upon the wings of the wind. It was NO fun!
Riatsila and I were at MechaCon in Lafayette LA, about an hour west of Nawlins. Stayed an extra night (Sunday) to allow panic travel north to subside. We set out Monday and travelled the edge of Katrina almost the whole way. Went north on I-49 to Alexandria; turned east to get to I-55 N to Jackson MS. East on I-20, then I-59 from Meridian, MS, through to Birmingham, AL, then onto I-65 N home. We have dodged trees on the interstates, endured lashing rain, and HUGE gusts of wind, and held our breath as we passed exit after exit with NO ELECTRICITY. Finally arrived at Tuscaloosa, where we got the LAST ROOM of the first place we tried (Motel 6). Thank God!
We made it safely, and are thankful. We await news from Frank & Lisa, and Sandy, Joe and family.

Busiest time of the year, so of COURSE I want to start a PAC!

Matildah, I got your comment and have responded.

.........................................................

I am currently talking with Trusted Advisors as to getting the thing rolling. Lookit...it NEEDS to be done. The Founders (no, not the shapeshifters from DS9) of our nation had a vision of regular turnover in representation, not an entrenched bureaucratic ruling class.

I am going out of town on biz. I will try to post whilst there.

Ha, and HA!
Back in the day- a phrase which has cropped up innumerably the past few days- I went to school with, and played in the school band with, the probable next head of the Fed.
That's right, Ben Bernanke.
THAT Ben Bernanke.
He has been on my mind lately, but oddly, not because of hearing Cavuto burble about him. Just one of those co-inky-dinkies, I guess.
Ben, the smoker of foot-long novelty cigars.
Ben, the player of poker.
Ben, the regaler of ribaldry.
Ben, the mental multiplier.
Also, Ben, the player of sax!
I could go on, but I shan't. I have little data on his policies, but if he is tapped to take Greenspan's mantle, well....
Wow...Dillon High School boy makes good!

His brother Seth was a friend of mine in high school, and introduced me to the novel "Dune".
Hat tip, Seth.

I was not as close to sister Mindy, as she had issues with my evangelical propensities at school, but she was a brilliant, lovely young lady.

If I recall, the family owned the Jaybee drug store. Bought my first pipe there, and lots of sulfur and potassium nitrate, to do pyrotechnic experiments. Oh, yeah.

Hail to the Bernankes. May God bless them all.

Political stuff:

I want to start a PAC. Sort of an anti-PAC.
F.O.I.L.

Fire Our Incumbent Leadership.

Beyond the complete de-federalisation of these several States, it is the best hope for reclaiming our nation from the clutches of entrenched Executive, Legislative, and Judicial power. A bloodless coup.

Tim, we need to talk...

Hi. I'm Weatherly, and I'm a jerk.

Hi. I'm Weatherly, and I'm a jerk.

"Hi, Weatherly"

Yep, the Aardvark 'fesses up! But why?
I just had a dee-LIGHTful weekend in Mobile, AL, at Mobicon, a little SF convention in its eighth year. (http://www.mobicon.org/) You can see the broad picture there. Saw an old con pal from way back, Tim Riley, cartoonist and entrepreneur extraordinaire. (http://www.trnco.com/index.html)
He and his wife were a huge blessing to me. My sweet wife, the Momoovark, had instructed me to go to the con and relax. I set up our shirts, and sold, but spent a vast amount of time talking, schmoozing, reminiscing, and making new friends. (Shout out to Jeff! http://www.celiaentertainment.com/bresbio.html) I relaxed. Good call, Momoovark!
The con is run by a couple of other con friends of mine, who happen to have what is referred to as an alternate lifestyle. (They insist on white wine with beef. I don't know why I put up with them...) I have friends who are irreligious, friends who are pagan, friends who eat it in a car, friends who drink it in a bar. I have friends who I print t-shirts for.

These people love me. Or like me a whole lot. Amazingly.
Now some of these guys may read this, and wonder "What's not to like?".
And I have to admit...I'm charming. Sincerely so; I'm really not a schmoozer in the classic sense. (Classsic schmoozing on Lite 96.3...)
Expressively friendly, smiling, happy most of the time. Ebullient, even.
What's not to like?

I look back to when I was a kid in college and I cringe at what I was...hyper-opinionated, unpleasantly so, self-righteous. Judgmental.
I won't bore with the details.
Now, the trick is, I am a Christian...and was then.
I'm just older, now.
I'm more mature.
Mellow. er.
I don't have the call to JUDGE. I only have the call to present Christ.
My friends are now confused, as I have not yet induced blunt-force trauma on any of them with a ten-pound King James.
Christ loves them all. I must love them all. And I do. Not in a self-serving ego-stroking "I am loving them with the Love of JEEEEEEEEE-Zus!" Real, "It's SO good to see you again!" love.
But the question remains...why do these people love me?

Because I have changed.
Christ has changed me over the decades.
Decades.
Slowly, Jesus changes those who are His into His image. Not all at once, but change over time, as we yield, as we bow the knee to our Lord in each area of our lives.
Why do these people love me?
Because, whether they know it or not, they love the Jesus in me.
If they honestly do not see Weatherly the jerk, well...
It's His fault.

I am consistently amazed at the level of intellectual debate here in the blogosphere. To wit:

"Yes, I'd be quite interested to hear your thoughts on these things - particularly your lack of willingness to fight for your country. But I won't hold my breath waiting for a reply; it's probably hard for you to give one with your thumb in your mouth." (from a commentor on Vox Popoli)

This is a sample of what poses as thoughtful discourse. Now Vox Day, the author of the blog, IS intellectually formidable, politically astute, and a hoot, to boot. The castigation he receives in others' blogs, as well as in the Hell-o-Scan comments section of his site, is often of the calibre quoted. Bottom line: if one cannot refute another's arguments...BLUSTER.

Cheap, cheap, cheap.

Often the essentially "christian" sites display the agape love evidenced by the massacre of Luther's "followers" by the provoked RCs. Oh, yeah! Jesus said "They'll know you are my disciples because you SCREAM at one another."

This reminds me of another little goodie: a friend of mine proudly displayed his new bumper sticker. It reads

"Jesus Loves You.
(everyone else thinks
you're an a***ole!)"

O........K. Let's use the the Son of God to give the finger to the world. Gotta love that.

Come on, people; let ALL things be done to build one another up.

1 Corinthians 16:14, "Let all your things be done with charity (agape love)."
1 Peter 4:8, "And above all things have fervent charity (agape love) among yourselves: for charity (agape love) shall cover the multitude of sins."

It may not be as sexy as vituperative debate,
but it makes our Father happy.

I'm going to a wedding, and I hate playing dressup, but the Aardvark will look HOT today.
Hot in a Sopranos sort of way. Black pleated, cuffed trousers, black button-down, black and charcoal tie. White sneakers (KIDDING!) Black shoes. Slick scalp.
Sopranos? Never watched it once.

The ensemble almost seems funereal. My niece Kim is getting married to a fine young man, who has had an almost courtship level of relationship with her parents. I do not mourn for them. I have great joy for their adventure. My problem is the dissolution of so many Christian (!) marriages around me. My daughter married a nice young man...who turned out to be an abusive bounder with delusions of culthood. They are separated, primarily for her safety. The "D" word has been kicked around, but I'm sorry, there is ZERO scriptural reason for divorce. One can drag "feelings", and "it's not fair" into it all day long, but it still doesn't change what Jesus said about it. Period.

Two, count 'em, TWO families in our congregation have disintegrated, because one spouse in each wanted a different place to put it. I have a suspicion that I know what is going on.

There is a deadly triumvirate preached in our neck of the woods: marriagedivorce&remarriage.
Just like that: marriagedivorce&remarriage. When someone preaches on ISSUES facing the church, that one is top of the heap: marriagedivorce&remarriage.

What is wrong with this picture?
To teach on marriage like that seems to me to plant the idea that the three somehow go together: marriagedivorce&remarriage. Rather like soupandsandwich, friesanketchup, BurnsandAllen...
If the concept of sowing and reaping has any credence- Jesus taught it, and agriculture works- then ought we not preach and teach on marriage (Ephesians 5:25, "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it..." would be a great place to start.) and LATER present divorce as the vile aberration it is, rather than linking it in the hearer's mind
with marriage? I believe that we are reaping the harvest of decades of bad, copycat preaching.
Amongst other things.

The lesson of the dating scene is not much better. If this relationship sours, welllll, I can always find another.

I pray that this marriage will be as blessed and full as Kim's parents has been, and that Momoovark's and mine has been, and that Christ intended for marriage to be.

Pulling a Religion Out of your Butt...

The latest bit of glurge to clot the finite bandwidth is "The Rainbow Bridge".
This load of dingo's kidneys has been popularized by none other than Mr. Feelgood himself, Neal Boortz, who got all verklempt upon reading it on the air.
Here is the regrettable "poem":

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

*ahem* I wouldn't want to be known, either. According to my #2 son, Riatsila, this comes across as the sort of thing you make up to tell your kid when Rover gets pureed by an SUV.

It speaks authoritatively of Things Supranatural. It is thus Religious.
This author has pulled a religion out of his nethers.

Tangentially,Momoovark, my sweet missus, said it all:
"Religion is people doing what they want, rather than accepting what God (in Christ) has done for them.

Cue Sinatra: :"I did it MY-Y-Y-Y-Y WA-A-A-A-AY!"

That settles the issue of "religion" for me.

Back to the Bridge: Riatsila queried "What happens to goldfish?".
Clearly they flop around in an eternity of drowning, unable to die, refreshed only by the occasional puddle of dog drool, then flopping over to their owners-in-life, to find the only moist areas available to them.

That's what I call Heaven...

MLM Love

Love is all-important. We humans hunger for it, yearn for it, wither without it.
Multi-level marketing (MLM) systems use this human need as a foot-in-the-door. Coupled with the Need to Belong, Love provides a powerful engine for convincing the prospective member to join, to part with precious shekels, and start on the Road to Riches, if he will just sell the soap, sell the vitamins, and buy, buy, BUY the inspirational books and tapes, so he, too, can Duplicate the Pattern, and get OTHERS to sell the soap, sell the vitamins, and buy, buy, BUY the inspirational books and tapes.

The hook is: "We love you, and will do EVERYTHING to help you succeed. If YOU commit, WE commit.", this said with a dewy-eyed earnestness that would melt the heart of any normally sceptical person, introducing a cultic aspect to the business "plan". If I BELONG...if I am LOVED...well, then, I must be WORTH something. I must be LOVABLE.

The problem with MLM love is that it is bogus. It is to agape, charitable, self-giving Love as prostitution is to married love. It is quid pro quo. The hugs, the "We love you!" at the end of phone calls, are surface, shallow, and VANISH as soon as you step out of line. Stop selling the soap, selling the vitamins, and buy, buy, BUYING the inspirational books and tapes, and this bogus love runs for cover, or at least runs to the next John or Jill. No tickee, no hickey.

It really reminds me of the poor religious cult members who begin to think on their own, and read a REAL Bible to learn about the Gospel, and get shunned by the very people who have been FAMILY to them for years.

If you don't do as we say, we won't LOVE you anymore.
That is NOT love. It is self-serving manipulation and control. If you are a Christian, and are using these tactics in business OR church-life, then you are not "walking in love" in your service to God. You are instead walking in devilish deception, and hurting your witness by displaying a hooker-level "love" to your friends, family, and prospects.

If you wish to hawk vitamins, or soap, or weight-loss plans, well and good, but PLEASE read First Corinthians 13, and compare it to your "Plan".

1 Corinthians 13:1-13, "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.  And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing.  And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profits me nothing.  Godly love suffers long, and is kind; love envies not; love vaunts not itself, is not puffed up,  Does not behave itself unseemly, seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil;  Rejoices not in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;  Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.  For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.  But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.  When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.  For now we see through a mirror, dimly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.  And now abides faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love."


For anyone who has been victimised by unscrupulous MLM schemes (Oh! Did I repeat myself?) this site may prove helpful:
www.merchantsofdeception.com

Whilst the site is aimed at Amwayites and Quixtoids, it can finger patterns which you may recognise in other "plans".

Your ever-helpful Aardvark

Please don't feed the bird...

Jackboots echo down the hospice hall. The Boys in Blue do their stalwart best to...what?
Keep deeds of charity from being done.

Terry Schiavo's brother's testimony (I believe it was on Glenn Beck's show) was that if one had even tried to moisten her lips with a chip of ice, that one would have been arrested.
Not to grant Terry messianic status, but even Jesus got a better break: they gave him a sip of sour wine.

Wow, what a police detail to be on: keeping a dying woman from receiving aid and succour from loving family and friends. Blue could become a very unpopular color.

I really like symmetry. Here's a thought: come April 15th, pull the government's feeding tube! The basic promotion and protection of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" is apparently a fleeting whim now, good only for trotting out on National Holidays.

What a SHOCK!

You scored as Christianity. Your views are most similar to those of Christianity. Do more research on Christianity and possibly consider being baptized and accepting Jesus, if you aren't already Christian. Christianity is the second of the Abrahamic faiths; it follows Judaism and is followed by Islam. It differs in its belief of Jesus, as not a prophet nor historical figure, but as God in human form. The Holy Trinity is the concept that God takes three forms: the Father, the Son (Jesus), and the Holy Ghost (sometimes called Holy Spirit). Jesus taught the idea of instead of seeking revenge, one should love his or her neighbors and enemies. Christians believe that Jesus died on the cross to save humankind and forgive people's sins. Christianity 92% Buddhism 63% Judaism 54% Islam 42% atheism 33% Paganism 25% agnosticism 17% Satanism 13% Hinduism 8% Which religion is the right one for you? (new version) created with QuizFarm.com Wow, I'm more Satanist than Hindu!

In the immortal words of George Costanza: "I got nothin'!"
Those of you who know my antipathy for that character are reeling...

I am suffering from complete adrenal burnout, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
I mean, I've been on the edge for close to a year, what with dealing with a burgeoning business, our current political climate, seeing and aching over the deconstruction of my daughter due to the situation she has been in for several years, agonising over how RG can be redeemed, despairing over the Whole State of Christ's Church, personal guilt over not being able to blog as I wished, and, well, it goes on. My body has rebelled, and I thought I was having heart failure. Thankfully, it is only (!) my chest wall being inflamed from work and stress.
I am numb, even to the plight of Terri Schiavo. I can harbor angst only for so long.

I wrote to Gregg in part:

I know the pain and frustration you are feeling. Here in AL, we covered the streets of Montgomery with more peaceful and praying people since the 60s civil rights marches, pushing for major pro-life legislation. The people SPOKE; but the legislation was aborted, itself. Christ and the apostles changed the world without a single march...hmmm, maybe they had some wisdom... ;^)

This is the crux of the whole issue: the church has for twenty-plus years been led to the voting booth as a method of societal evangelism. The imposition of Christian Piety via legislation has been a rousing catastrophe. Why does the world hate the church? Because for decades we have arrogated the province of the Holy Spirit to ourselves: to convict the eee-vil sinners of their sins. We have placed ourselves at the Father's right hand, and cast ourselves in the role of Judge. We point the quavering Bony Finger of Indignation at the Sinner du Jour, and condemn their not measuring up to OUR righteousness. Mr. Falwell, SHUT YOUR GOB!
Is there sin? YES.
Are there sinners? YES.
Are we their Judge? NO, NO, NO.

We, the church, are the Keepers of GOOD NEWS. We should be dispensers of same.
Am I the only person seeing this?

...Maybe I had something after all.

Gloria, Susan...here's to YOU!

The horror played out in Atlanta yesterday points up two things: the insanity of "we're all equal" as regards male and female job performance and ability, and the necessity for politicos to get better writers. Had the deputy sheriffs handling the 33-year-old rapist been two 250 lb QB types, I doubt that events would have played out quite the same. (I would love to know the thought train that set up the situation in the first place: "Yep, we got this big 'ol perp.....uh huh.....rapist...yep...we'll send Li'l Bit to guard 'im....yep, her...havin a li'l ole gal guardin' 'im, now THAT'LL teach 'im some respect for women...". I mean, come on, people, let's think a bit beyond who's next on rotation.

As to poli-speak, the Aardvark Award for Flagrancy in Mis-Speech goes to the redoubtable Mayor of Atlanta Shirley Franklin who termed the events..."disconcerting".
Yes, and Josef Stalin wasn't nice. Points to her for encouraging prayers for the families of the victims, though. THAT took courage above and beyond in our ACLU-ocracy.

In my darker heart, I can only hope that Nichols behaves true to form, and resists arrest when caught. He's had his opportunity for trial by jury.

http://news.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml;sessionid=ZT2HF4XGCYQQLQFIQMGSNAGAVCBQWJVC?xml=/news/2005/02/05/wun05.xml&sSheet=/news/2005/02/05/ixworld.html

Well, here is a note from the UK! Apparently my friend there does not read the Telegraph.
The canonisation of the UN is faltering considerably.

"No one expects the Humanist Inquisition!"

The Hot Abercrombie Chick has a faboo blog, and recently posted on:
Is Evolutionary Theory Scientific?
She is continuing this thread, which is a well-reasoned bit of work!
Keep it up!

I believe a caveat must be stated.
I am not a brain-numbed robot.
Nope.
I am currently looking for a twelve-step program for talk-radio addiction.
"I can quit any time I want to........I just don't want to!"
It's tiresome, being driven by the impulse that I might MISS something, some tid-bit that will bring it all together. I love music. I love Old Time Radio CDs. Books on tape. Alexander Scourby
reading the Bible. (Now he is top-of-the-heap, but I might reconsider if Patrick Stewart did a narration. Yeah, right...) All sorts of goodies that I regularly miss because I-don't-want-to-miss-something.

All because of one guy.
Goolsby.
Sixteen+ years ago we spoke long distance -back when that meant something- and he asked if I had heard of Limbaugh. He said -now this is important. You must parse this properly- he said:

"Rush Limbaugh reminds me of you."

I couldn't help myself. That night I turned on the telly, because on that fateful day, Limbaugh was guest hosting Pat Sajac's late night show. The night the audience was loaded with, ummm,
slightly left of centre enthusiasts.
That hijacked the show.
That could not allow reasoned discourse, because Limbaugh disagreed with them.
That resorted to the ne plus ultra weapon of choice for their arguments.
That's right.
They called names.
Limbaugh honestly attempted discussion.
They railed.
They pointed the Bony Finger of Indignation.
And called Rush Limbaugh names.
The studio was cleared, because the whole situation was beginning to attain gladiatorial levels of bile and vituperation, and Telemachus was nowhere to be found to stem the tide.
That was my intro to Limbaugh.
The next day I found a local station: AM770 Huntsville that carried Rush.
Yes, the same station that launched Sean Hannity. The Bethlehem of Talk Radio. For that I heartily apologise. I even tried out to take Sean's place after he left for Atlanta, and stardom.
That's another story.

Hello.
My name is Weatherly, and I'm a talk radio junkie...

Paving with good intentions

I am a member of an e-group dedicated to the 60s SF series Fireball XL5. The topic of the use of force by members of the crew came up, and I posted the following (thinking it on-topic):

As a popular pundit opines: "Ours is a world governed by the use of
force.". Whether it is the Inland Revenue, or the local cop pulling
you over for speeding, or the UN making a >snicker< Resolution, the threat of force is what keeps folks in line. If this were not so, there would be no armies, police forces, or West Virginia militias. And no Neutroni missiles on Fireball XL5.
Love,
Weatherly

I was responded to by the following slap on the hand:

L**** and I very recently reminded all members not to post off topic
messages to our Fireball XL5 group. L**** also reminded everyone that
offensive posts would not be tolerated.
Your remark about the United Nations appears to be meant as some kind of
'joke', intended to poke fun at an organisation set up to promote and
preserve world peace.
Larry and I find the remark offensive.
I don't propose to give a lecture on ethics and morality here.
All we want is for people in this group to refrain from making offensive
remarks. This is not the venue for venting personal hatred or prejudice.
This is a place for friendly discussions about a great t.v. show.

I am fascinated that making a mild criticism of a Faceless Organization lines me up for accusations of "personal hatred or prejudice".

Which brings me to the question of offense.

I wonder if any of the one million Rwandans killed during the UN's beneficent oversight were offended?

I wonder if any of the Iraqi men, women, and children for whom the "Oil For Food" benefits were intended are offended by the multi-billion dollar "mismanagement" of the funds by UN leadership.

I wonder if any charity-minded US citizens were offended by the UN functionary's assertion that they are "stingy" in response to human need and suffering, when our charitable giving, public and private, is very good indeed. (I shall be charitable and NOT do percentage comparisons with other countries.)

I wonder if any of the women and children sexually victimized by UN blue helmets in Bosnia and Africa were offended.

I wonder if any of the Sudanese victims of the black-on-black slave trade are offended by the UN's inaction.

Whatever good intentions the founders of the UN may have had have clearly been subsumed in the hell of inaction and self-serving of the current leadership in NY.

Y'know, I was offended at being called a prejudiced hater, especially after several years of a track record of civility and friendliness. But they MAY have a point.

I HATE hypocrisy. An international organization to promote world peace and justice should not behave in these ways. And well, I guess I'm prejudiced against
the pretense of righteousness and respectability which the United Nations projects.

The Dark Design...

I have sussed it out. George Delano Bush is in the hands of the Late Great Planet Earthers.
Iraq...Iran...the whole point is to plug the hole: control the Euphrates River so as to prevent the Chinese Hordes from crossing into the Middle East, and immanentizing the Eschaton.
I betcha!

On a tangential note: ignoring the issue of the inspiration of the Bible, any man who pens the words: "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it;" (Ephesians 5:25) cannot possibly be a woman-hater. Hmmm...Husband, be prepared to bleed and DIE for your wife, live a life of loving self-sacrifice for your wife.
Yeppers, Paul had a REAL problem with women!

Hoot mon! Went to ChattaCon this weekend. Cold weather, fun folks, good food. Larry Niven was GOH at the convention-he of Ringworld fame- but I saw him not!

By good food, I refer to the restaurants. Portofino's, a Greek-run Italian place,(why are the best Italian places run by Greeks?) is so good that I use Chattanooga conventions as an excuse to be able to go there! Their Brochetta is incredibly good, and tho' an appetizer, will serve as a meal! Two friends (Sunshine, who is a con pal of my wife and me- she deals in etched glass goodies- and Kelsey, who works with Sunshine), who happen to be hot babes, went with me for dinner (chunky, short, cue-ball me--envy me, boys) not quite believing the place could be as good as I raved. Well, they got SCHOOLED! I had the Brochetta and antipasto; Sunshine, the Tour of Italy-lasagna, manicotti, chicken, and spaghetti; and Kelsey the Chicken Marsala. A great time was had by all. Not a bad bite to be had! (It is great to be well and happily married AND good-natured..One can enjoy the company of Beauty with none of the attendant angst and pressure.)

I drove us all to the Read House Hotel- the Con site- and dropped 'em off. They suggested sneaking me into the hot tub, but I demurred...being well and happily married and all...
Drove back to my digs at the Motel 6- I rarely stay at the convention venue as I am almost 48, and fond of my sleep. Yeah...I'm a stick. In the mud. A happily married stick.

...And, no, there is no Deep Meaning here.

It's so great living in the land of the Cesspool, receiving the effluent from Canada's tax subsidised film industry. I had such hope and joy when the SciFi channel came to town, and now it's just filled with the rustle of dried, talentless maple leaves.

Saturday morning...IFC is on, and it is presenting short films. From Canada. If we didn't take their stuff, Canada would sink under the sheer weight of wasted film.

The question this particular crop of drek (Pssssst....Why doesn't he turn it off?) raises is cogent, however. Why do the women in the 21st century insist on talking. Oh...about "our relationship".
Endless, endless chatter and self-examination about Our Emotional State. Still, it makes sense that the Film Board as the enabler for these movies. They are so painful in their rummaging through couples' emotional pain that no sane person would willingly part with a dime to see them.

Now, I am the "romantic" member of our married life, so don't go thinking I'm all stoic and unfeeling. It's just that there are limits to how much gubbish one can stand. (Philip K. Dick fans take note!)

Sometimes...it's just good to be.

ABOLISH THE IRS!

Make April 15th just another day.
Go to this site.


http://www.fairtax.org/

Read it.
Then do what it says.
It WILL lead to Freedom and increased prosperity.

Outstanding!
I'm doing my best to re-establish the Plumbline after my five-month hiatus. A glitch wiped all links, and readership has plummetted.
******************************
Flaming Thunderbolts Theology: Part the First

I have a bit of virtual dyspepsia regarding, ummmm, "the whole state of Christ's church".
I came to the faith during the Late Great Planet Earth era. Even at that time in my mid-teens, I had difficulty reconciling the various eschatological angles into a coherent model. It all seemed so...contrived and needlessly messy, as though the Almighty was a hack screenwriter who peeked at all the worst James Bond / Austin Powers capture and escape scenes, and cobbled together a Rube Goldbergian finish to the little ball of mud we call home.

Enter the dichotomy: Dispensationalism versus Covenant. C.I. Scofield, that evangelical P.T. Barnum, cooked up a scheme in the crack- er- crockpot environment of Bible conference fervor, a system of Biblical interpretation worked out with Gaebelein and Darby which artificially divided the scripture into a series of Dispensations.
I say artificially because this Johnny-come-lately doctrine is virtually unknown prior to the late 1800s.
Why did it take close to 1900 years for anyone to figure this out?
http://www.preteristarchive.com/dEmEnTiA/need-ovid_dd_01.html

is a potent link calling the whole dispensational scheme into question. While I have not crawled the entire site, this section appears to be sound.

The Biblical record tends to fall naturally into COVENANTS, which is really odd, given that Yahweh is a covenant-making God. You don't need reference books and commentaries to see it.

To Be Continued...

OK, people, I have WORK to do. I do not have time to blog this morning, but I half-heard a news report which concerned me, and then heard Boortz fulminating about my suspicions.
The US Give-mint's pledge money for tsunami relief is going to be GIVEN TO THE UN to distribute.
If I give One Hundred Dollars to my youngest son to purchase our groceries, but he buys anime DVDs with it instead, then my response is to sell whatever stuff he has purchased to recoup my shekels, and then refuse to entrust ANY more simoleons to him again for a VERY long time.
This US action is stupidity of the most egregious sort, and deserves our sanctions.
If they cannot use our tax dollars in a sane and.....SANE manner, then we as a nation should deny our non-representing representatives any more opportunity to misuse our earnings.

THIS MUST STOP!

The obligatory "Happy New Year" to you all.
I dunno...This "holiday season" has been the most secularised in my memory. I'm talking about in my household. Christmas, whilst a lovely time with family, was just not the holy-day of years past. I allowed myself to be too busy (not that there was much choice. The screenprinting orders just kept avalanching in. Odd how blessing served to distract from Meaning.) We are thankful for it all, and I freely admit that there is no Scriptural sanction for the celebration of Jesus' Birth. (Neither for Easter; we are to celebrate the resurrection of Christ in the Lord's Supper on each Sunday, by the NT church's apostolic example.) It's just good to have the focus of Faith to lend Meaning to this holly-encrusted point on the calendar.

Even New Year's Eve was just another night. I helped around the house, sat on my fundamentals and trekked through the blogosphere, appalled at the bonhomie of the postings at Evangelical Outpost. When did "evangelical" come to mean "intellectually arrogant"?
"They will know that you are my disciples, if you snark at one another."

We didn't watch the warp-drive Times Square ball drop, either.
We brought in the new year counting down with:
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/clock.php

Perhaps it is a function of my age, but celebrating the passing of another annum holds few charms for me.

We didn't even do fireworks.

Face it. The events of the past year in my life have taken out my heart.
I have lost My Heart. You know what I mean.
Happy New Year.

JOY! I get to play electrical contractor to-day. Gotta replace the porch light.
The old one lasted seventeen years, but finally rusted away. I have a new one from Lowes. Call it "Early Brooding Sci-Fi Tech", stylistically speaking. It would look right at home in the police facility from "Escape From New York". It is quite stout.
I'll tell you about the sparks in awhile.

******************************************

No pretty blue sparks! Everything worked swimmingly, even on an aluminium ladder!
I'll try to get a picture of my handiwork and put it up. I know that you will find it fascinating, because it is another thing that I do. >tongue firmly in cheek<
We have a lit front porch again. Hmmm...Maybe I can reduce my liability coverage.
Ri-i-i-i-i-ght.

OUT
OF
THE
U.N.
NOW!!!

Kick 'em off of our shores.
Let 'em see what stingy REALLY means.
Let the U.N. make the pizza runs without our dollars.
Oooooh. Is that mean-spirited?

Before his gentle readers go all Luther on his keister, let this Aardvark say that he is not giving a pass to things like homosexuality, adultery, or dealing from the bottom of the deck. Here is the baseline from which this discussion proceeds:


Matthew 28:18-20, "And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All authority is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen."


As a rule, the church at the beginning of the twenty-first century seems to have, errrr, relaxed somewhat from Jesus' requirements of discipling and baptism. When the disciple finally confesses Christ, today one is more likely to hear "When's the next potluck?" (or "pot-bless" for the more superstitious amongst us) than to hear echoes of First century faith:
"...See, here is water; what prevents me from being baptized? (Acts 8:36)"

The testimony of the New Testament is clear.
God expects change.
God commands change.
God enables change.
1 Corinthians 6:9-11, "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God."

Note this: "And such WERE some of you..."

The person given over to sin is not given a pass...discipleship inevitably pins the tail to one's donkey and demands change. However, one CANNOT submit to discipleship until one is a DISCIPLE.

If we present the life-changing truth of the Gospel, according to the New Testament pattern, then we can begin again to see New Testament results. Nothing else will work.

WHOA! The Aardvark's BACK!
I've missed being here, but I have been busier than I have EVER been before. Our screenprinting operation has mushroomed, and I have had to be a major squeegie-jockey to keep up. As I do NOT wish to hire outside of my household at this time (to avoid multiplied Imperial entanglements), we have maxed ourselves out, and are looking toward getting an automatic press to multiply our efforts.
*******************************************************************************

No doubt you have heard of the Philadelphia Four, aptly appelled by Joseph Farah.
(Hi, Joe. How are you?)
These members of a "Christian Ministry" attended a homosexual rally, preached the Word of God in a peaceful and non combative way, and are facing 47-some-odd years in prison for their troubles. Hate speech. This is a hateful attack on First Amendment
rights, certainly. The preachers assert that "The early church preached in the open air, in the marketplace." That's as may be, and I do not agree with the prosecution of these guys, but neither do I agree with their tactics.

They are wrong.

How can a Christian of some 34 years standing say such a thing? How can I not stand in solidarity with my brothers?

Because they are wrong.

They are preaching against the EEEE-VILS of homosexual practise.

Yet they are still wrong. Wrong on at LEAST two counts. First, there is this whole "Christian Ministry" thing. God in Christ Jesus authorised ONE Christian ministry.

The local church.
Period.

Not Repent Now. Not the 700 Club. Not the Billy Graham organisation.Not even Focus on the Family.

The New Testament authorises only ONE Christian Ministry. The local church. Anything else is presumptive error. It may be a GREAT idea, but it is only man's idea, and is thus WA-A-A-AY less than God's best. Try actually READING the thing beyond your "Upper Room" devotional. All these "para-church" organisations are man's addition to God's Pattern, and will all ultimately be as successful as Uzzah was when he reached out to keep the Ark of the Covenant from tipping. He didn't play by the rules, either.

Second, they were doing theological bear-baiting. Back to New Testament authority for stuff: Not even Paul when confronted by the rampant idolatry of the Athenians, not EVEN Paul attacked these people. Acts 17 shows that Paul actually found a place of AGREEMENT with them, and proceeded from that point to teach them:


Acts 17:22 Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars' hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are very religious.
Acts 17:23 For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.

Paul acknowledged their devotion, and THEN taught them. He did not quote anti-idolatry verses from Jeremiah at them. He did not wag the bony finger of indignation at them and intone:"You worship idols...YOU'RE GOIN' TO HELL!".

Paul met them on their turf, introduced them to the Creator God, and His Son Jesus Christ, and a local church was born. Athenians believed, were baptised and the work expanded.

Be very clear on this. Paul preached CHRIST.
The early church preached Christ, and Him crucified.

This must be understood. We must preach the answer which God has provided: the Good News of Jesus Christ. We must preach it from the platform God Himself has authorised: the local church. Not just in the building...certainly in the marketplace, but the message and the platform must be God's, else we will be doomed to failure.

Look at American Christendom after fifty-plus years of evangelism being dominated by
not-the-church organisations.

We're ALMOST as successful and unified as the Republican majority in Washington.
Almost.

My sweet wife has earned a place with her "Quote of the Blog"
We were watching the march of anarchy in the streets of Boston, and she asked:

"How can Anarchists have a parade?"

Gad, it's been an awful, scary, maddening, overweeningly stress-filled month so far.

...But enough about ME...

I continue to be fascinated and alarmed by current trends in TV & Radio adverts.
I mean, they are REALLY awful. The most troubling angle from a business sense- and I was nurtured by the Freberg school of advertising- is that which is typified by the Progressive Insurance commercials. The template works like this:
***********
Customer has a catastrophe.

Customer calls repairman.

Repairman stares disbelievingly at the scope of the problem, and wants to get to work.

Customer demands a quote from the repairman, including a quote from 3 competitors.

The catastrophe worsens.

Moral: OUR customers expect competitive quotes from their inquiries to us. They are SMART.
***********

NO. The ULTIMATE message is: Our customers are STOO-PID.
That's what I get. AND, I do not wish to be lumped in with the cretinous rabble which apparently comprises the Progressive customer base.

Hello, little lizard...

Toyota has jumped aboard with THEIR latest ad campaign, with a Typical Married Male
who went out for milk, and was beguiled into buying not one, but TWO Toyotas, a sporty red car, and a black SUV. He proceeds to angst over how to tell his wife, when his REAL problem is how to get the two vehicles home. The helpful Toyota salesman has clearly NOT offered to assist by driving one vehicle for him, so the
hapless dupe must leapfrog the cars home: Milkboy drives the Red car a few yards beyond the Black SUV, then the SUV a few yards beyond the Red car. And so forth.

This commercial is an infinite sadness. I could go all Dobson on their keisters and decry the typical stupification of the American Husband on TV, but that is not my issue. The message I get is:

Toyota customers are STOO-PID.

The list goes on...

There was an interview years ago with the actor Ricardo Montalban. At some time
during the discussion he was asked (being the symbol of the early, Latin leading men of Hollywood), "How would you describe a great lover?" To this he replied, "A great lover is not a man who continually goes from woman to woman, for any dog in the street can do that.

No, a great lover is a man who can captivate and nurture the love of one woman
her entire life."

God bless Ricardo Montalban. I know that he is a believer in Christ, and that he is a man of integrity, besides being one of the three best things to hit the Trek franchise in its history.

My wife and I are headin' towards our 27th year. Thanks for giving us something concrete to shoot for!

Stupid Blight CommunityStupid Blight CommunityStupid Blight Community


My youngest, Loen, said something that inaugurates our "Quote of the Blog".

"We need a white Bill Cosby."

Now, to be clear, ours is a VERY conservative household, and one in which ANY hint of racism is abhorred. When I was growing up, I autonomously arrived at the idea that the "N" word was as egregious a "cuss" word as "G--D---", and thus was not to be used. Period. Paragraph. BTW, I grew up in South Carolina.

It is from this background that the youngest son o' mine issued his pronouncement. We were discussing Cos's NAACP comments admonishing the black community to watch its collective mouth. Huzzah! God bless Bill Cosby.
Well played, Sir.

Hence my son's "Quote of the Blog".

And y'know...he's right.

So where does "Blight Community" come from?
It's the white kids who have learned their parents' liberal White Guilt, and have chosen to pretend that they are black by their dress code, mode of speech, and popular inattention to education. Yo, yo.

We need to be who we are, and be the BEST who we are that we can possibly be.

As much as I HATE them, I took yet another quiz.



take the "what's your dark secret?" quiz
| courtesy of mewing.net. where darkness and secrecy abound.


...so now we know!

...AND NOW A WORD TO THE FAITHFUL FEW...

5 posts per week. Yeah, right. Truthfully, we have had the most incredibly busy few weeks. Hugely busy.

We have been blessed. Our business has been re-directed into the whole anime (Japanese animation for the non-otaku reading this) arena. Mucho shirts, mucho dinero.

Amazing times. Again, we are blessed.

We are trying to handle this influx of biz, and are forced to triage our daily tasks.
We WILL be writing more regularly, so KEEP COMING BACK, please.

********************************************************************

Meanwhile, I was tearfully moved by the funeral of President Ronald Reagan.
Death and I have an odd relationship. I don't DO death. I don't relate at all to the whole file-past-the-casket-doesn't-he-look-NATURAL thing. And I don't CRY.

My blood pressure dropped from the fluid loss during the Reagan funeral. No boo-hoos, no sobs. Just tears and tears and tears.

I loved Ronald Reagan. Based on what I know of his history, I fully expect to see him again. Clothed in the light of our Lord. I pray this is so.

********************************************************************

Yet, during the service, I saw that the Clintons, prominently seated, were rather dozy-looking. Not to be snarky, but I'm not surprised. They were probably concentrating on potent eldritch wards to keep from bursting into flames...

The Aardvark RETURNS!!!

I bought some cereal the other day. Not terribly GOOD cereal. Not fruity, not chocolatey, not coco-lossal.
Ok. I bought Fiber One bran cereal.
Bran.
Cereal.

YUM.

Now, to be fair, Fiber One- a General Mills product- is the tastiest of its ilk. Truth be told, this is like saying that THIS
is a tastier stick than THATone. It is sweetened with aspartame, and is a blend of wheat and corn brans. And it looks like twigs.

YUM.

The thing that amuses me, though, is that this small 16 oz. box of cereal is uniquely packaged. It says a LOT about the marketers' expectations.
It contains two- count 'em- two 8 oz. sealed poly bags.

Guys, It's gonna take A-while to get through a box of Fiber One.

YUM.

Hey, all you End-timers trying to immanentize the Eschaton...
Forget the Pope.
Kiss off Henry Kissinger.
Stress not over Skull and Bones.

Michael Eisner IS the Anti-Christ.

There. I said it. He and his miserific underlings at Disney have foisted yet another travesty upon the "family movie" faction. What's worse is that they had to import it from CANADA (and here I thought that the Sci Fi Channel was the holding tank for the Canadian tax-subsidized effluent that passes for programming now). What could drive me to such invective?

A Wrinkle In Time.

Madeline L'Engle approved the script, and all, but something got lost twixt script and screen. I know, big surprise. Meg is not mousy as in the book. She looks like she should be playing soccer or volleyball. She is less assertive...merely unpleasant. Charles Wallace is, OK, he's weird, like in the book, but also kind of HIP weird; not like the book, Using terms like "cool", rather than quoting from classical literature. The less said about Mrs. Who, Whatsit, and Which, the better. Alfre Woodard was charming, but the character was less like Broomhilda, and more like an afternoon chat host. That, and I couldn't get the fragging Borgs business out of my head. Shallow me.

And here's the kicker. The Happy Medium, an endearing, jolly WOMAN in the book, is played by a GUY. Apparently Canada has cross-dresser quotas in cinema, which fits with current Disney policy as well. Nicely played, but less dimensional than the book.

And I shout "HETEROPHOBES"! One of the sweetest moments in the book occurs when Calvin pulls Meg to him and kisses her before her last-ditch attempt to rescue Charles Wallace from IT's tendrils. Not in THIS version.

The best line in the whole book: "IT sometimes calls ITself the Happiest Sadist." Gone.

Jesus and the Buddha are lauded in the book as foes of the Dark Thing- almost like a Dr. Bronner's soap label. Not in THIS version. But they DID add Martin Luther King Jr. for the movie. As great a role as he played in the Civil Rights efforts of the 60's, MLK doesn't quite stack up to Jesus or Buddha.

Camazotz, the Bureaucratic Planet, came off well, but it had color. The Red-Eyed Man is like a possessed and tragically with-it Prof. Harold Hill. "IT" is more a system rather than a giant disembodied, bloated, pulsing brain, except, no, the whole PLANET is the giant brain: more gross than horrifying.

Oh, and there is a fair amount of marginal-at-best wire work for flying sequences.

Oh, OH. There is also CGI effects work. REBOOT was better. Much.

I have wanted a film version of A Wrinkle In Time.
A lot.
Billy Mumy would have been the PERFECT Charles Wallace. Alas.
If you want to see Wrinkle, fine.
See it in theater of your mind.
Read the book. I'm going to, again!

Take the What High School
Stereotype Are You? quiz.

Gad, how accurate could it be? THIS WAS HIGH SCHOOL! (The gender is wrong, though. The USE of "gender" is wrong, too. It should be sex. DON'T GO THERE, filth-mind...)
Oh, the pain, the pain...

Bedtime....and here I am at a keyboard. No biggies yet. I'm still at work on my Major Concerns entries, as I want to be clear in making my points. Passion is good, but polemic does get in the way of reasoned discussion.

Just a preview, though. The Charismaniacs of today (as opposed to charismatics and classic Pentecostals) are all about 3 miracles before breakfast, and being unable to get through the day without God's direct intervention or "leading". Yet, frankly, as one who operates Biblically in spiritual gifts, I have a great deal of puzzlement. For all the foofooraw about present-day miracles, healings, and "signs following", I have YET to hear of a single documented case of an eyeless man receiving sight, a legless woman becoming mobile, an armless child receiving new limbs. NOTHING of New Testament proportions; all "hidden healings": my headache's gone. The pain in my back is diminished. I will not deal with leg-lengthening parties, save that I find NO evidence of these methodologies in the New Testament.

A definitive picture of the correct "use" of spiritual gifts follows
And he (Jesus) said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.
And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues;
They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.
So then after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God.
And they went forth, and preached every where, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following. Amen. Mark 16:15-20

(Note that "them" is italicised. It does not appear in the Greek text, so a more accurate reading would be:

"And they went forth, and preached every where, the Lord working with and confirming the word with signs following. Amen.")
My concern is- and I hold the Dispensational doctrines of Darby and Scofield as error to rival the Gnostic heresy of the early church- my concern is that if signs are not confirming what we are preaching, then does God not consider what we are preaching to be worthy of confirmation?

How does the preaching of the Church at the beginning of the 21st Century measure up to the apostolic preaching of the New Testament? I believe our message is weighed in the balance, and found wanting.
The Gospel has been changed.

Of course, Vox, the REAL question is...
If I continue to use Heinz ketchup, am I betraying my libertarian ideals?
Although, since I have not yet switched cards at the courthouse, as a Republican,
I should probably be using Hunts.
But it's just not as good.
It's all a choice of "good" vs "adequate".

Instant Answers

I came to Christ in the '70s on the twin waves of "the Late Great Planet Earth" and the Charismatic Movement. Interesting that much in the two waves are doctrinally incompatible. Early on I began to view with interest the shortcuts people sought to fast track them to discipleship and spirituality. Ern Baxter spoke of people practicing "Bible Promise Card Ouija Board". You know those plastic loaves of bread with colored cards in the top with Bible verses printed on 'em. Grandma and hosts of maiden aunts had them on the kitchen table. You pick a card, and that is your inspiration of the day.

Some folks decided that it was a neat way to "get guidance", so they'd pick a card...any card, and Hey Presto, it's God's message to YOU today! One guy got a loaf with an out-of-the-ordinary selection of verses. He picked his verse for the day:

Matthew 27:5 And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.

Shaken, he decided a do-over was in order, and pulled

Luke 10:37 Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.
Hmmmmmmm...Instant guidance.

Now, I do not dispute that God can pin the tail on our donkey with a single verse, but by and large, proof-texting, the practice of pulling individual verses out to prove our particular opinion, is a dangerous and deceptive habit. The normative method is discipleship in the Word.

2 Timothy 2:15 Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. ("Study" here being King James for "apply yourself") The book of Acts is a powerful narrative, but it is not the "three miracles before breakfast" story that many portray it to be.
When the disciples in Jerusalem met from house to house, it wasn't for the Thursday night Cough and Spew deliverance meeting, nor to determine their spiritual gifts by studying their personality types. The disciples "continued stedfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers." Acts 2:42 They were learning the Gospel, and practicing it day-to-day in the community of other believers. Not alone over the kitchen table pulling cards 'til they got the right answer.

Many believers today seem more intent on spiritual masturbation...solitary forays into spiritual self-gratification, rather than active, vital learning to live the faith with others. Fellowship offers a failsafe mechanism against error.

1 John 1:5 This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
1 John 1:6 If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth:
1 John 1:7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.

Interestingly, our society militates against our getting together outside of "church-time" to encourage each other, by all the busy-ness we are forced to endure (much to feed the tax monster). I often work long, late hours at my shop. It is a JOY when a brother or sister comes by to say "Hi!", and we share a bit of the Word relevant to what's goin' on. I hunger for that. Here of late, Rush and Co. are being replaced by New Testament CDs as I print. Massive quantities of the Word are helpful inoculants against the predations of the world. Now, I am not becoming a monk or anything. I play games, watch movies, laugh with my wife and kids. But it is all empty without the Word of God.

I'm SO tired of empty.

Sweet Sarah, and others...I just want you to know that the mmmmm...flavor of the blogs at the end of March do not reflect my normal mode of expression (the SDA entry, as well as the Carwash blog).
I was tweaked by the nastiness of what I read/ heard and knew of no other way to adequately express my
upsetment than by accurate reportage of terms used. I must admit that the image of Angela Anaconda
berating Ninnypoo thusly in an ad DID give me a giggle.

Anyway I want my Gentle Readers to know that cayenne pepper is not often used in my homilies.

The habanero of satire, on the other hand...

He's BA-A-ACK

Gentle readers, I apologize for abandoning you. We have just gone through Perdition Month.
This is MY "Christmas season", business-wise. As screenprinters, we are called upon to print ball uniforms for
Summer league play. Just when you think the world may be sane after all, Ball Season happens.
On top of which we had two conventions on the same weekend: an anime Con in Nashville (MTAC)

MTAC Go! April 1st - 3rd in Nashville, Tennessee

and CoastCon in Biloxi, MS.

CoastCon - Home Page

Momoovark (My sweet wife) and Loen our 13-year-old went to MTAC, whilst Riatsila and I drove a rented Tahoe to CoastCon. (We OWNED I-59. the gas stations OWNED us. Dear friends at Enter*rise...when I say "minivan", I mean minivan.) Oh, and the names are anagrams...the kids are not New Age freakchildren.

M & L drove the Aardvan...which died just over halfway to Nashville. Gearshift cable snapped.
Her brother rescued her, as we were past Birmingham on our travels. She made it, and we have another satisfied Convention t-shirt customer. Thanks M&L.

CoastCon did not go as well for us, but we surely did better than if we'd stayed at home watching the "Green Acres" marathon all weekend.

Oh, and GG goon stayed and minded the shop. Attaboy goon!

(Please include GG in your prayers...he is having numerous tactical assults from the enemy,
including back and sciatic nerve problems.)

Dealing with insane t-ball families just adds to the local color. Has ever a 4-year old actually gone up to his parental units and uttered the words (in a pwecious Baby Snooks voice):

"MommyDaddy, I wanna pway t-ball this summer."

No, I didn't think so...

Summer ball leagues (beyond t-ball) for the little ones are a bit troubling, too.
Here is the definition of FUN: putting small children into HOT polyester uniforms, in molded, plastic-foam-padded helmets, in the Summer sun, while grownups behind chain-link fencing yell at them, and curse the umps. Ahhh, sportsmanship....

Anyway, the Aardvark returneth, with more

HARROWING TALE$ OF COMMERCE!

See what happens when you don't go to church!
Various automotive travails put me a couple of hours behind schedule today, and in order to be able to continue my business, I had to load up screens and biodegradable chemicals and drive north to Ardmore to use their most excellent car wash to reclaim outdated screens. I coat 'em and reuse 'em to print NEW designs. This time of year begins OUR "Christmas season", business-wise. Ball uniforms, convention shirts, spring festival shirts...like that.

I got to the carwash, and...well, let's just say that tonight I feel a kinship with our "Rainbow brethren". As the preacher Marshall Keeble said when queried about referring to everyone as Brother or Sister: "I has 'em in Adam, or I has 'em in Christ."

...got to the carwash, unloaded the stuff, and set to work. As is my wont, I had the back of the van open so that I could hear the CD. Towards the end of my task, I noted two yout's hanging around near the street. I shut the washer off, and got ready to load everything up. I had been listening to the "No Disc" soundtrack from Cowboy Bebop. Now, for the uninitiated,
Bebop is a Japanese anime series about space "cowboys", or bounty hunters. Done in a noir style, it is action-driven, and awash with testosterone. It is scored with a tasty jazz and blues buffet, with some very medieval and
madrigal-ey bits thrown in as garnish. When I turned off the washer, it was to the madrigal part.
"La, La, lalalalalaaa..."
The two stalwarts noted earlier had slouched beyond eye-shot, but I heard them exclaim ere they moved out of sight:

"Hey, yo, FAGGOT"!

I was amused...a bit. I thought for a moment, and called out cheerily

"You'd better tell my wife and four kids!"

Now, I must be frank, and say that I DID feel a brief thrill of fear. I mean, I REALLY hoped that my love of anime would not lead to my being dragged behind some rusty pickup.

I REALLY wanted to yell "Why? Are you LOOKING for one?"

It would be nice to be judged by the content of one's character, rather than by the contents of one's CD player.

Anyone want to bet how they are schooled? Vox? ANyone?

ALERT......ALERT.....ALERT
If you are offended at my quoting accurately from an email I received, DO NOT READ THIS.



Jene Kourtney 04:48 AM 3/23/2004 +0600 7 u r stupid dumbass if u pay retail pri-ce for softwares
(From an email that I received this morning)

Something else before I eat an Atkins-friendly breakfast- read eggs fried in butter- and get to work:
I am ALWAYS charmed when sales types who are trying to extract money from me call me a stupid dumbass. It ALWAYS provokes an instant desire in me to open my wallet. Really. I think that I may do some Aardvark Screenprinting radio spots with this tactic, because there must be scads of customers who would respond in a similar positive fashion. >Angela Anaconda voice< "Get your team uniforms at Aardvark Screenprinting" I will tell them,
"or you will be a stupid dumbass." All this creativity I have WASTED for years, when this simple, direct approach can pry the shekels from their clutching digits.

I mean, WHO wants to be an SDA?

(And yes, I tried the asterisk trick. You would know what it said, anyway, so there is NO point in disguising a letter-or-two)
Besides it made me look like a st*pid dumb*ss.

Y'know, homeschooling has some real perqs. I mean, besides lessening government school propaganda sluicing away the little grey cells. If you'll pardon my being pedantic, homeschool field trips are wa-a-a-ay cool! Momoovark and the two youngers are going to Birmingham to visit the Golden Flake plant, the wellspring of so many bags of sodium-glutted goodness in the Dread Mart of Wal's cunningly named "salty snacks" aisle. Alabama is to Golden Flake as Bert Lahr is to Lays. These kids will be watching the Very Merchants of Doom ply their lipidous trade, breathing air which alone will cause weight gain. Golden Flake. O, to be Young again. Stupid Atkins...

Then they get to go to the Birmingham Zoo, where they will experience Smells of Another Sort. Don't forget to dodge at the orangutan cage...errrrr, HABITAT. The old one is a sharpshooter.

Part of my business involves making buttons, not of pearl or tortoise shell or chintz, but of metal parts, plastic, and snarky sayings. THOSE buttons! Here's one of our latest models:

BLOG:
Let the
WORLD
be your
THERAPIST.

Maybe the 'net is still worth something.

Judgment...what a currently under-rated commodity. There MUST be something good in it, because the folks who never pick up a Bible even to use it as a paperweight ALL know a verse: "Judge not, lest ye be judged". Out of context, with no thought as to the Speaker's intent, but yah, they know the verse! Yet, if the REST of the Bible is to be considered, we are all called upon to make judgment daily: "Am I acting in LOVE toward this person?" "Should I speak thusly...?" Even "Red tie or paisley tie?". We must CONTINUALLY make judgment to get through life.
Perish forbid that we should push the envelope and judge Jeffruy Daumer's alternate eating-style, but here goes:

I heard on the radio today that Paris Hilton was trodden upon by a horsie. She was not injured badly- for which I really am thankful. I wish her no ill. But it brought up an old train of thought. She was on the horsie as part of a Simple Life 2 series shoot. >ACK< Another one we needed?!? But I thought of her, and the Ritchie chickie, and the phrase that keeps popping up in my conversations also came to mind.

Waste of skin.
Waste of (notta lotta) skin.

What does she offer to the world in exchange for life and breath? She poses, and simpers, and can't even survive a day WORKING AT SONIC!!! Apparently she can't even pay adequate attention during...um....close encounters. Self absorbed.

Pray for Paris. Really. She needs Reality to fill her life. Not another reality show.

Just to clarify matters, gentle readers, I am an essentially lazy person. At the very least, a slave to convenience. If you are a Faithful Follower of the Way of the Aardvark (insert Bruce Lee sounds here), then I should tell you that after an initial micro frenzy of linking to the few blogs which I was acquainted with at the time, I stopped. Why? I had links! I did not need a link list to rival the NY phone directory. Shucks...I have enough trouble just doing my OWN posts. (Five a week. Riiiiiight) So please do not feel slighted if you are not on the Aardvark's list. You're not being shunned. Or ignored.

I just haven't done it.

'Cos I'm too lazy to push a "Link to this" button.

How sad am I? Tragically sad.

How bizarre is this? I answered the questions as honestly as one could given the choices, though if you have seen two chop-socky movies you can easily tailor your answers. I guess I have comedy in my soul...



click here to find out which Asian action superstar you are!

You are Jackie
Chan! You like to take risks. You live for the moment. You are a thrill-seeker.
At heart, you're a really nice person.

You are funny, charismatic and full of energy. Although sometimes your goofiness
gets you into trouble, your

drunken boxing skills are fabulous! Just bring a pot of rice wine with you.

Wow! what an intolerable hiatus. I had a VERY busy week preparing for a Starfleet Summit. I am not a member...something like a Ferengi-at-Large. Starfleet? Think of the Rotary Club in Trek uniforms. They are a civic group formed around the kernel (please note that I did NOT say "nut") of the Star Trek universe. They raise money for charity, do PR work for recruitment, and generally have a good old time...with a twist of Vulcan. I have been friends with a couple of Starfleeters for 9 years, and have printed shirts for their local club (or "ship"}, as well as for their regional conferences. Large fun.

The 7-hour drive to the Summit afforded me a chunk of time in which to ruminate.

* Are turn signals now offered only as an option?
* Are the other drivers telepathic adepts, and I'm just missing their intentions?
* Does NO-ONE teach common courtesy anymore?
* Why am I sounding like Andy Rooney?

ALL local municipalities need to do is to tag the scofflaws who refuse to use a turn signal (and so endanger the public),
and there would be no need to raise property taxes, no need to pass new taxes. Let those who insist on to being rude and dangerous in their driving pay for the privilege.

And please note, too, that I said LOCAL, not FEDERAL.

jet: "

I am Jet. I am sensible and commanding. I find myself constantly taking care of those around me. I have an artistic soul. I've had my share of troubles and heartbreak, but I am strong and mature. I'm usually all work and no play. I'm a loving person, but I'm definitely not one for sentimentality. Which space cowboy are you? Visit SelectSmart.com

"

NOTE: This is not one of the threatened "Big 2" posts. You'll know. ENJOY!

And then I put my finger on it. The problem. THAT problem.
Lookit, If I join the Lions Club, I sign up to the PURPOSE of the Club. The Lions sell brooms,
lightbulbs, and do other fundraising for the blind. THAT is the Purpose. The Meetings are not the purpose.
The meetings are to pass on intel, plan strategy, and provide the tools necessary to the Purpose.

It appears that the Church-at least in some quarters- has made an error. For years, the Meeting has been the focus
of interest; what we do, what we shouldn't do, who's in, who's not. Like that. Folks, CHURCH is not the PURPOSE.
Our assembling on the first day of the week, as the apostles and disciples gave example, is to enable and equip us to
fulfill the purpose:

Matthew 28:18-20, "And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, All authority is given to me in heaven and in earth. Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen."

The Lions don't wait for people to walk into their meetings in order to buy their wares. The Lions go from business to business, and set up in the marketplace to accomplish their fine goal.

Perhaps the Christians and the Lions have more in common than is commonly believed!

I am hopelessly behind the times. While I'm certain the fact impinged upon my little grey cells before, I realised last night that there was a NEW "Star Search" series on telly.
The advert crowed that the previous series launched the careers of "Ray Romano and Britney Spears".

SOMEONE MUST STOP THIS RELENTLESS EVIL!

LSDiamond's Den: "
Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis.
'You do not know the power of the Dark
Side.' There are two possibilities: you
are a Star Wars geek, or you are unreasoningly
scary.


Which Weird Latin Phrase Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla"

This was originally posted to the "Black_Rock_1" e-group dedicated to fans of the marionette series "SUPERCAR". Maybe it will be helpful to you to suss out where I come from. If it matters!

Hi, gang.

I am not of the bent where I bare my soul at the drop of a hat, as is the wont of American popular culture nowadays. However, as this is specifically ‘Supercar’ related, I believe that it will add to the discussion, perhaps renewing the human element of our fandom, besides the fun technobabble of which we are so fond.

The time: The *early* 60s. I grew up in a black and white world. I remember falling down out of my crib, trying to climb out and pad into the living room to sneak a chance to watch "The Millionaire". Well, falling out of my crib enabled me to see at least *some* of "The Millionaire" on my Momma's lap! I lived with my mother, who was divorced. ! was the eldest of one.

Another early TV memory was of a series called "The Man and the Challenge" starring George Nader. (If anyone else remembers this series, please speak up!) B & W "Bat Masterson" episodes are amongst my memories, as well as the first SF and fantasy movies that I recall: "It Came From Beneath the Sea" (that *is* the Harryhausen flick with the giant octopus, right?), and "The 5000 Fingers of Dr T", written by Dr. Seuss himself (Most memorable was the combining of various household liquids and things found in a kid's pocket to enable their escape.).

Long about this time, something wondrous came into my life. You might even say "marvel-ous". I discovered ‘Supercar’ on early Saturday morning TV. So intense and immediate was my devotion to this strange little show that I would wake up at the crack of dawn Saturday morning and endure 30-60 minutes worth of farm reports, and Porter Waggoner and his Chuck-Wagon Gang so as not to miss the beginning of ‘Supercar’.

I was completely taken by ‘Supercar’! At Playschool, there was a little yellow plastic spaceship amongst the toys that I would lay claim to as soon as I got there, so that I could play 'Supercar' with it. My mother had an alarm clock which broke, and which had a roll-top face cover. That became the Black Rock lab and its sliding roof doors.

Mindful of the lessons learnt from the Dr. T movie, I would mix cologne, water, dishwashing liquid and other benign household liquids into a 'potion' which I would take outside and pour on the ground in the rough shape of ‘Supercar’, whereupon I would invoke, with all the spiritual zeal a little boy could muster, a miracle, so that when I went outside the next day, there would be a full-sized ‘Supercar’ materialized upon the grass. Apparently, I didn't use enough mustard.

One of my most miserable memories as a child was having been sick with a fever and being very much on the mend Friday night. I asked my mother, who had enforced bedrest upon me, "May I get up and watch 'Supercar' in the morning?" She answered in the negative, but I woke up at my customary time anyway, and lay in bed, whimpering with a combination of frustration and fear. Frustration in that I felt absolutely fine, and fear because even though I felt fine enough to get up, I knew that I would not feel entirely fine if I did so in disobedience to Momma.

No longer a single-parent family: my mother, who had been divorced, married a wonderful man who wrote ripping good children's poetry, alas, none published, and most destroyed in a house fire. For a series of months, perhaps a year or two, (time is not reckoned the same by the young) we had a virtually idyllic life, and of course, there was ‘Supercar’, a fixture of my week.

Well, one day, mother didn't get out of bed. She was crying, and very obviously in pain, and was taken to hospital. Things like that happen, and my stepfather and I 'bached it' until Friday night, when I was invited over to a friend's house to stay the night, and Saturday. To this day, I cannot recall the friend's name. Saturday morning came, and we played with my friend's Bat Masterson cane - it fired caps, and lo, I managed to have a close encounter with a mud puddle, and was an extremely messy little boy. So, his mother took me back to my house to get a change of clothes. Wow! There were cars everywhere, and I thought, "Neat! Momma's come home, and they're having a party!" So, with all being right in the world, I sat on the lap of an apparently familiar lady who was sitting in my customary chair, and I turned on, what else? ‘Supercar’!

Supercar was over, and my stepdad invited me back to the inner sanctum of his and Momma's room, where I learned that there was no party, that in fact, my mother had died, and this was the 'apres funeral' get-together. (I do not share this to instigate discussion and critique over the rightness or wrongness of how they handled dealing with me about my mother's death, and frankly would appreciate absence of commentary on this point. All parties have made their peace, and were going by the best light that they had.)

The Earth continued to turn, but within a week, it turned topsy-turvy, for you see, my stepfather had not legally adopted me yet. Who would think to rush such a thing? He and Momma and I had a lifetime together to look forward to. In swept my "bio" father and his parents. Through legal finaglings, I went to live with them. So in essence, I lost my entire family in the space of a week.

But you know what? Saturday came, and I turned on the television, and there was ‘Supercar’. Not to sound maudlin or to place too much importance to a kiddie puppet show, but in the middle of a life completely turned over in a brief time, I found ‘Supercar’ to be a steady influence, a constant in an overwhelmed little life. Nor do I wish to speak of a TV show in the hushed fervor with which many speak of their relationship with Christ, but I do know that God often uses the weak things, the small things, the childlike things, to help in time of need. I would attribute to ‘Supercar’ the title of a 'tool' which helped a sad, confused and confounded little boy find a bit of stability. (The writings of Anderson, Fennell, and the Brothers Woodhouse are quite good, but I do not think of them as apostolic! :^) )

I also discovered a bounty! Channel 13 ran an episode at one time, and when that was over, I could change to Channel 10 and catch a (usually) different episode there!

This is the 'why' of the place that ‘Supercar’ has held in my life for 40+ years. Stripping away the emotional attachment, I find still that it is my favorite of the Anderson sagas. The writing is mature, witty, and does not condescend. The technical aspects of the series are fresh, and while improvements were made over the ensuing years, well, it seems as though the team had "lost its first love", and what had been an act of creation itself became, over time, a job. But these are subjective critiques.

While the Supermarionation works are not perfect (my kids and I all get the giggles upon seeing the cable that yanks Supercar out of the water, or seeing the shadow of the smoke against the "sky" background in the Fireball XL5 openings), they are done with excellence.

This is my story. It is not meant to depress, but to show how even seemingly trivial things can add up to give life meaning and worth...or at least decorate it a bit. This story is yours. I still love ‘Supercar’, and am thankful for it.

Perhaps some of you have stories...

Full boost!

Weatherly

OK, guys, I am working on a couple of blogs which will probably get spread around. They will not be what they appear, and I ask that when you read the next couple of major entries, please DISENGAGE the past 20 years of poli-cor-speak. The words I use will be what they MEAN. No shades or angles.

Piquing your interest?

The very NEXT post is a reminiscence of a favorite show from my childhood.