Wow.
It has been a cazy (as Josiah would say) past two weeks and it will probably require a couple of posts to thoroughly and sufficiently honor and scrutinize them; suffice it to say, it was a very merry Christmas, and is currently poised to be a very happy new year. It's also important, nay, crucial to note that at midnight tonight I will not be switching my allegiance so much as I will be officially, publicly announcing my newfound loyalty to the Brewers. After much cajoling, heckling, verbal abuse, threats, and assaults upon my personal integrity, I have recognized the superior wisdom of cleaving to the Brew Crew for baseball glory; having thus set my covenantal love upon them, I will be steadfast in my faithfulness to their cause and will pray imprecatory prayers against all who would broker opposition to their might.
...or something like that...
I have reliable information from worthy sources that I will not be disowned for this turn of events, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed nevertheless.
Goodbye, Cubs. Rest in peace. (Or pieces, rather!)*
Phil and Deanna's party awaits us, and if I have anything to say about it, much sparkling grape juice will be consumed as 2011 springs upon us. Farewell, 2010- you've been good to us all. And you'll be missed more than my misplaced Cubs loyalty.**
Let's rip!
*It's comments like that that will get me disowned!
**I'm a dead man.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
The End of an Era
Wheeljack Hudziak: 2008- December 19, 2010
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
WHICH ONE O' Y'ALL WANTS TO GIT SNAKEBIT??!!
Kid's Christmas Party at Morning Star last night = Epic Win!
Forty kids, fifteen Little Caesar's pizzas, two hula hoops, one big bouncy ball, two pitchers of ice water housing a hundred pennies each, one squirt bottle, two blindfolds, one dry erase board, a hundred feet of rope cut into seventy-ish "snakes," one roll of masking tape, one nickel, and Beauty and the Beast made for more than four hours of zany fun.* No black eyes, no broken bones, and every single shoe recovered successfully- mission accomplished! The kids, comprising two teams (the Jedi and the Buccaneers**), loved the games we set up and somehow were still overflowing with energy when we started the movie a little after nine. Mr. Ian made the mistake of sitting down at about ten and regretted it immediately when getting back up became the most difficult, Herculean of tasks. Believe you me, I slept like a rock last night when we made it to Jeremy and Anouk's house! It was a great time though and everyone had a blast- 364 days 'til next year's! Who else is counting down?
*Yes- zany.
**Come on- you kinda saw that coming.
Forty kids, fifteen Little Caesar's pizzas, two hula hoops, one big bouncy ball, two pitchers of ice water housing a hundred pennies each, one squirt bottle, two blindfolds, one dry erase board, a hundred feet of rope cut into seventy-ish "snakes," one roll of masking tape, one nickel, and Beauty and the Beast made for more than four hours of zany fun.* No black eyes, no broken bones, and every single shoe recovered successfully- mission accomplished! The kids, comprising two teams (the Jedi and the Buccaneers**), loved the games we set up and somehow were still overflowing with energy when we started the movie a little after nine. Mr. Ian made the mistake of sitting down at about ten and regretted it immediately when getting back up became the most difficult, Herculean of tasks. Believe you me, I slept like a rock last night when we made it to Jeremy and Anouk's house! It was a great time though and everyone had a blast- 364 days 'til next year's! Who else is counting down?
*Yes- zany.
**Come on- you kinda saw that coming.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
My Achy Breaky Heart
Morning struck offensively early at the Olson home yesterday as the tranquility of our slumber was shattered by the clamor of MIDI violas, violins, and cellos. Neither of us greeted the sound of the baroque-era alarm with joy as it struck 4:50 a.m. although Kristin did present a more imperturbable picture of grace than I did by falling back asleep. I opted instead to grumble and to launch a salvo of vitriolic, verbal retaliation at my phone which probably sounded more like a cantankerous Charismatic muttering under his breath (I don't think I was speaking in tongues but I would forgive someone for confusing it as such) as I sat up and starting scratching my head for a few minutes (my higher cognitive functions hadn't flipped on just yet). Incensed and exhausted, I proceeded to make a pot of coffee in as grumpy a manner as possible, aiming to teach that alarm a lesson (I think that at that particular moment it made more sense than it does now). An inauspicious beginning to the day, indeed!
Rational thought returned somewhere around the middle of my first mug of coffee. Every morning Kristin and I have coffee together to talk, pray, and have devotions over, and brother, I needed it in the worst way! With an awareness on loan from some delicious, French vanilla-flavored brew*, we turned to this morning's Psalm (51) and read alternating lines aloud to each other. This Psalm is quite precious to both of us as it encapsulates our experiences with sin in such a painfully beautiful way, bringing us back to times when we have fallen; times we have experienced conviction so vividly; times we have hated our sin so desperately and appealed to God for not only forgiveness but also cleansing of our very wills. As this Psalm spoke to us of the grievousness of sin, I found myself returning mentally to verse 10, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." That verse has aided me in prayer so many times as I implore God to help me in putting to death the desire for sin that yet lives on within me, and has shaped my understanding of what true repentance is. The picture of the contrite sinner, broken over his transgressions and driven by the Holy Spirit to repentance is not hypothetical- it's actual.
Fixated upon verse 10, I kept thinking of clean hearts and new spirits and it came to me that this is the solution God prescribes throughout the entirety of Scripture- from the command to circumcise our hearts (first spoken in Deuteronomy 10:16) and to be born again (as attested to by Jesus in John 3). The hearts which we are born with are pathetically deficient for our purpose to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. God must personally intervene if Man's chief end is to be realized, and David's plea in Psalm 51:10 becomes reality as God fulfills the Old Testament promises of spiritual renewal in lost sinners. God promises a new covenant in Ezekiel 36:25-27 which states, "I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." Jeremiah 31:33-34 also reveals God's redemptive purpose in a new covenant: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."
Christ purchased the New Covenant with His blood (Luke 22:20) and by His death once for all ratified the inheritance of all who would belong to the New Covenant community (Hebrews 9:15); every promise of atonement, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance and ultimately glorification is sealed upon Christ's work as the mediator of this new covenant and guaranteed through God's faithfulness to the covenant. A people unwilling and unable to save themselves are redeemed and delivered from the power and penalty of sin by the perfect person and work of Jesus Christ to the glory of God, and it is in Christ that we find the fulfillment of God's promise in Deuteronomy 30:6 to circumcise our hearts Himself, "so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." God's commands will always require His grace to perform faithfully- our darkened, rebellious hearts will never submit and obey otherwise, and this dependence upon God is to His glory and for our joy, as the former will always ultimately translate to the latter for His people.
The fervent prayer of David does not go unanswered; each adopted child of God, whatever the progress of his or her individual sanctification, bears witness to the radical heart transplanting which God performs in regeneration as we are born again to a living hope, preserved and sustained through faith (1 Peter 1:3-5). Let us strive then for the purity of heart to which we are called by honoring the Son of God, who for the joy that was set before Him gave Himself up for each of us, with our praise and our worship, and by laying aside all that gets in the way of our being a living sacrifice; for we, the redeemed, have been enabled by the grace of God in this new covenant to do so. To close, I'll paraphrase** that perennial oldie-but-goodie Augustine, esteemed Doctor of Divinity and Bishop of Hippo, with this wonderful prayer from his book Confessions: "And all my hope is nowhere except in your great mercy. Grant what you command, and command what you will."
*I actually have yet to repay this loan, but so far the coffee maker hasn't noticed... don't remind it, ok?
**I'd straight up quote him, but I don't know Latin. My bad.***
***Scholar Fail.
Rational thought returned somewhere around the middle of my first mug of coffee. Every morning Kristin and I have coffee together to talk, pray, and have devotions over, and brother, I needed it in the worst way! With an awareness on loan from some delicious, French vanilla-flavored brew*, we turned to this morning's Psalm (51) and read alternating lines aloud to each other. This Psalm is quite precious to both of us as it encapsulates our experiences with sin in such a painfully beautiful way, bringing us back to times when we have fallen; times we have experienced conviction so vividly; times we have hated our sin so desperately and appealed to God for not only forgiveness but also cleansing of our very wills. As this Psalm spoke to us of the grievousness of sin, I found myself returning mentally to verse 10, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." That verse has aided me in prayer so many times as I implore God to help me in putting to death the desire for sin that yet lives on within me, and has shaped my understanding of what true repentance is. The picture of the contrite sinner, broken over his transgressions and driven by the Holy Spirit to repentance is not hypothetical- it's actual.
Fixated upon verse 10, I kept thinking of clean hearts and new spirits and it came to me that this is the solution God prescribes throughout the entirety of Scripture- from the command to circumcise our hearts (first spoken in Deuteronomy 10:16) and to be born again (as attested to by Jesus in John 3). The hearts which we are born with are pathetically deficient for our purpose to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. God must personally intervene if Man's chief end is to be realized, and David's plea in Psalm 51:10 becomes reality as God fulfills the Old Testament promises of spiritual renewal in lost sinners. God promises a new covenant in Ezekiel 36:25-27 which states, "I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." Jeremiah 31:33-34 also reveals God's redemptive purpose in a new covenant: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."
Christ purchased the New Covenant with His blood (Luke 22:20) and by His death once for all ratified the inheritance of all who would belong to the New Covenant community (Hebrews 9:15); every promise of atonement, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance and ultimately glorification is sealed upon Christ's work as the mediator of this new covenant and guaranteed through God's faithfulness to the covenant. A people unwilling and unable to save themselves are redeemed and delivered from the power and penalty of sin by the perfect person and work of Jesus Christ to the glory of God, and it is in Christ that we find the fulfillment of God's promise in Deuteronomy 30:6 to circumcise our hearts Himself, "so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." God's commands will always require His grace to perform faithfully- our darkened, rebellious hearts will never submit and obey otherwise, and this dependence upon God is to His glory and for our joy, as the former will always ultimately translate to the latter for His people.
The fervent prayer of David does not go unanswered; each adopted child of God, whatever the progress of his or her individual sanctification, bears witness to the radical heart transplanting which God performs in regeneration as we are born again to a living hope, preserved and sustained through faith (1 Peter 1:3-5). Let us strive then for the purity of heart to which we are called by honoring the Son of God, who for the joy that was set before Him gave Himself up for each of us, with our praise and our worship, and by laying aside all that gets in the way of our being a living sacrifice; for we, the redeemed, have been enabled by the grace of God in this new covenant to do so. To close, I'll paraphrase** that perennial oldie-but-goodie Augustine, esteemed Doctor of Divinity and Bishop of Hippo, with this wonderful prayer from his book Confessions: "And all my hope is nowhere except in your great mercy. Grant what you command, and command what you will."
*I actually have yet to repay this loan, but so far the coffee maker hasn't noticed... don't remind it, ok?
**I'd straight up quote him, but I don't know Latin. My bad.***
***Scholar Fail.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Happy golden days of Eeyore
I love Christmas music.
No, you don't understand- I love Christmas music! Every sleigh bell ringing, every chestnut roasting, every thumpity-thump-thump, every kid from one to ninety-two, every scary ghost story and tale of the glory of Christmases long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away... wait. Not so much that last part (that's a different strain of geekdom altogether!). But the fact remains, when this guy has a constant stream of holiday anthems pumping into his consciousness like an IV, you better believe we're simply having a wonderful Christmas time.
I am quite possibly the sole employee at Farm and Fleet who is overjoyed that we're playing non-stop Christmas music in the store- in fact, I would be clicking my heels with glee if I wasn't so clumsy and prone to taking out innocent bystanders and stacks of merchandise as I lose every semblance of balance and orientation (not to mention dignity) mid-leap. I view it almost as some pirate radio station fueling the underground with yuletide merriment and I provide the typical DJ banter as the songs shuffle through; "You're listening to Blain's F&F FM, Janesville's home for the holidays. Less talk- more Jingle Bell Rock!"
I think my favorite song is "Sleigh Ride" because it is so evocative of innocent, almost bygone (sad to say) Christmas pasttimes- singing together, riding through the snow, watching chestnuts pop, holding close the one you love... It just summates everything great about the season in a very real way and speaks to my heart to a degree perhaps surprising for a simple little jingle. The picture it paints is so idyllic and pure, it seems to me almost like the modern equivalent of the old bucolic poems celebrating the simplicity of pastoral life* (as in being in literally being in charge of a flock of sheep or a herd of cows or whatever other beast you're trying to keep tabs on, which doesn't actually sound very tranquil or otherwise appealing to me- but I digress). My favorite line is "These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives," which I think captures the spirit of the entire song and brings together all of the individual images into a composite of a perfect day; it's a statement of how the simple enjoyments truly are the ones we'll treasure not only in the moment but also later as we reflect upon our lives.
On the other end of the spectrum, however, is John Lennon's "Merry Christmas (War Is Over)." I mean, the chord progression is great and all, but I know for a fact that Lennon didn't give a hoot about Christmas, and frankly, I just don't dig on the "War is over if you want it" premise which the song is really about. I haven't shared Lennon's naive view of humanity for a couple of years now (which is to say, in a roundabout manner, that I once did), i.e. that human beings are essentially good, utopian visions are right around the corner if we'll just work together, etc. Basically just one big idol of Man (to twist the lyrics to one of his other songs slightly), giving no heed at all to the depravity of humankind. Now whenever I hear that song at work I just think of this great line from Slaughterhouse Five about people writing anti-war books, or anti-war anything, where Kurt Vonnegut says someone might as well write an anti-glacier book because it's just as likely to have the same impact.**
Let's face it- the only ex-Beatle to craft a great Christmas song is Paul McCartney (despite the howling protestations of Zach Johnson to the contrary!***), as evidenced by the masterpiece "Wonderful Christmastime." One man and his 1977-era synthesizer/drum machine is all it takes to compose the "Ride of the Valkyries" of Christmas songs, and lest you think that an overstatement, I know of one bearded would-be scholar who can scarcely contain his excitement when this call to arms comes on.****
The next couple of weeks will be bringing me much listening pleasure whilst at work (this is the only time of the year that I can truthfully say that!) and I hope all of you will share in at least a modicum of my enthusiasm for the spirit at least of these songs. So kudos, radio stations, for keeping it real! And kudos, Christmas season! Fifteen more days!!
*An example that comes to mind immediately for me is from Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd To His Love:
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
**There! You've been waiting for some token cynicism, and now you've got it!
***Ah, the memories of many a drive with Zach, plugging his ears, bellowing as if he was directing people to the Titanic's lifeboats! Usually on our way to the bowling alley in Milton around this time of year, it seems like, this song would never fail to suddenly invade the airwaves and Zach could be depended on to voice his extreme dissatisfaction with this little ditty! How precious to recollect.
****Okay, now I'm just getting ridiculous.
No, you don't understand- I love Christmas music! Every sleigh bell ringing, every chestnut roasting, every thumpity-thump-thump, every kid from one to ninety-two, every scary ghost story and tale of the glory of Christmases long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away... wait. Not so much that last part (that's a different strain of geekdom altogether!). But the fact remains, when this guy has a constant stream of holiday anthems pumping into his consciousness like an IV, you better believe we're simply having a wonderful Christmas time.
I am quite possibly the sole employee at Farm and Fleet who is overjoyed that we're playing non-stop Christmas music in the store- in fact, I would be clicking my heels with glee if I wasn't so clumsy and prone to taking out innocent bystanders and stacks of merchandise as I lose every semblance of balance and orientation (not to mention dignity) mid-leap. I view it almost as some pirate radio station fueling the underground with yuletide merriment and I provide the typical DJ banter as the songs shuffle through; "You're listening to Blain's F&F FM, Janesville's home for the holidays. Less talk- more Jingle Bell Rock!"
I think my favorite song is "Sleigh Ride" because it is so evocative of innocent, almost bygone (sad to say) Christmas pasttimes- singing together, riding through the snow, watching chestnuts pop, holding close the one you love... It just summates everything great about the season in a very real way and speaks to my heart to a degree perhaps surprising for a simple little jingle. The picture it paints is so idyllic and pure, it seems to me almost like the modern equivalent of the old bucolic poems celebrating the simplicity of pastoral life* (as in being in literally being in charge of a flock of sheep or a herd of cows or whatever other beast you're trying to keep tabs on, which doesn't actually sound very tranquil or otherwise appealing to me- but I digress). My favorite line is "These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives," which I think captures the spirit of the entire song and brings together all of the individual images into a composite of a perfect day; it's a statement of how the simple enjoyments truly are the ones we'll treasure not only in the moment but also later as we reflect upon our lives.
On the other end of the spectrum, however, is John Lennon's "Merry Christmas (War Is Over)." I mean, the chord progression is great and all, but I know for a fact that Lennon didn't give a hoot about Christmas, and frankly, I just don't dig on the "War is over if you want it" premise which the song is really about. I haven't shared Lennon's naive view of humanity for a couple of years now (which is to say, in a roundabout manner, that I once did), i.e. that human beings are essentially good, utopian visions are right around the corner if we'll just work together, etc. Basically just one big idol of Man (to twist the lyrics to one of his other songs slightly), giving no heed at all to the depravity of humankind. Now whenever I hear that song at work I just think of this great line from Slaughterhouse Five about people writing anti-war books, or anti-war anything, where Kurt Vonnegut says someone might as well write an anti-glacier book because it's just as likely to have the same impact.**
Let's face it- the only ex-Beatle to craft a great Christmas song is Paul McCartney (despite the howling protestations of Zach Johnson to the contrary!***), as evidenced by the masterpiece "Wonderful Christmastime." One man and his 1977-era synthesizer/drum machine is all it takes to compose the "Ride of the Valkyries" of Christmas songs, and lest you think that an overstatement, I know of one bearded would-be scholar who can scarcely contain his excitement when this call to arms comes on.****
The next couple of weeks will be bringing me much listening pleasure whilst at work (this is the only time of the year that I can truthfully say that!) and I hope all of you will share in at least a modicum of my enthusiasm for the spirit at least of these songs. So kudos, radio stations, for keeping it real! And kudos, Christmas season! Fifteen more days!!
*An example that comes to mind immediately for me is from Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd To His Love:
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
**There! You've been waiting for some token cynicism, and now you've got it!
***Ah, the memories of many a drive with Zach, plugging his ears, bellowing as if he was directing people to the Titanic's lifeboats! Usually on our way to the bowling alley in Milton around this time of year, it seems like, this song would never fail to suddenly invade the airwaves and Zach could be depended on to voice his extreme dissatisfaction with this little ditty! How precious to recollect.
****Okay, now I'm just getting ridiculous.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
And if your whistle's weak, yell "Jiminy Cricket!"
There have been many times, predominantly as a lost sinner without hope, and even sometimes as a regenerate believer, that I have confused the stings of conscience for repentance and turning away from sin; I have deceived myself by obscuring the true condition of my heart on countless occasions by mistaking the painful feelings of guilt I experience subjectively for the forsaking of my love for sin and disobedience towards a holy God. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9). More often than not, I simply regretted the results of my actions which bore negative ramifications and consequences rather than any kind of inherent offense against God for my wrongdoing. For me to make a sacrament of regret doesn’t glorify God- it only makes an idol of my conscience and in so doing suppresses the truth in my heart. Sin isn’t about failing my potential and letting myself down, it’s about rebellion against a righteous God.
God doesn’t call us to wring our hands and perform a kind of penance through sadness and being down in the dumps- He calls us to repentance and restoration through Christ’s atoning blood. God’s command is for all to abandon both their sin (as an object of action and thought) and their fundamental attitude towards sin (our love for sin in its various forms) and to simultaneously depend upon Christ’s active obedience (in His lifetime of perfect pursuit of holiness) and His vicarious death on behalf of sinners so as to be made right with God (through His forensic declaration of our being righteous) and to purify our conscience from the slander of Satan, whose accusations against us all, prior to our being born again, are incontrovertible. The Father, in keeping His eternal covenant with the Son, will never fail to justify them whose sins the blood of the Son has covered- He will ever and always be faithful to His promises. In fact, He delights in doing this because it glorifies the Son, whom the Father loves with a love more profound than we can fathom this side of eternity. Let us strive then for a clean conscience before God through true repentance and embrace the Spirit of renewal who removes from us the pollution of sin as we grow in grace and truth.
"How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God." (Hebrews 9:14)
God doesn’t call us to wring our hands and perform a kind of penance through sadness and being down in the dumps- He calls us to repentance and restoration through Christ’s atoning blood. God’s command is for all to abandon both their sin (as an object of action and thought) and their fundamental attitude towards sin (our love for sin in its various forms) and to simultaneously depend upon Christ’s active obedience (in His lifetime of perfect pursuit of holiness) and His vicarious death on behalf of sinners so as to be made right with God (through His forensic declaration of our being righteous) and to purify our conscience from the slander of Satan, whose accusations against us all, prior to our being born again, are incontrovertible. The Father, in keeping His eternal covenant with the Son, will never fail to justify them whose sins the blood of the Son has covered- He will ever and always be faithful to His promises. In fact, He delights in doing this because it glorifies the Son, whom the Father loves with a love more profound than we can fathom this side of eternity. Let us strive then for a clean conscience before God through true repentance and embrace the Spirit of renewal who removes from us the pollution of sin as we grow in grace and truth.
"How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God." (Hebrews 9:14)
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Greatest Band That Never Was
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Tigerpony!
Tigerpony consisted of underground legends Zach "Ah-boo" Johnson on larynx-shredding vocals, Joel "Buzz" Amundson on thrashing lead guitar, Ian "C.B." Olson on ripping lead guitar, Jared "Rod" Amundson on luscious synth, Joseph "Hightower" Langer on bass domination, and Joel "Jazzbah" Wallace on assault drums, uniting for all-out aural devastation delivered via D.I.Y. sonic brutality under the banner of awe-inspiring mythical creatures. Their groundbreaking mixture of hardcore and death metal injected the Southern Wisconsin scene with new life through its twin lead guitar harmonies, punishing hyper-blastbeat attacks, bonecrushing doooooooooom riffs, face re-arranging breakdowns, and vocals reminiscent of an exploding nitroglycerine plant. After a Tigerpony set, you had to scrape your consciousness off of the floor and try to fit it back into your soundwave-shattered skull, all while nursing the wounds incurred from the most frenzied mosh pits ever witnessed by man! Their major hit was "Allybatross," an excursion into sludgey, black-encrusted DOOM, punctuated with what could only be described as the guitar equivalent of a 155 mm howitzer bombardment or a panzer blitzkrieg erupting through your speakers, and laced throughout with elegant, soaring keyboard themes. Their time in the limelight was brief, however, as, like so many other period-defining artists, they were simply too far ahead of their own time- their era's zeitgeist simply was not ready for the heretofore-unseen progression Tigerpony exhibited with each new 7" single recorded in Ian's basement. Ultimately, not knowing how to surpass their own work to date, Tigerpony opted to finish on top, and retired the band after a string of hits and unchallenged chart dominance, their legacy firmly established for centuries to come. This left its former members to pursue other projects such as To Contend Against Rome, 324, the Plumed Serpent, Judas Creep, Croatoan, the Dynasty, the Funeral of Being, Neriah, Captive, and many others. Their legions of devoted fans mourn the band's passing to this day and yearn for a return, glorious as the phoenix rising from the ashes, of the late, the great-
Tigerpony.
DISCLAIMER: Choice portions of this band biography are forays into fanciful exaggeration and extreme hyperbole, if not outright fabrications with no bearing in reality whatsoever. But rest assured, for one brief, shining moment, Tigerpony was about the coolest thing happening in Janesville, Wisconsin.*
*Or anywhere, for that matter.
Tigerpony consisted of underground legends Zach "Ah-boo" Johnson on larynx-shredding vocals, Joel "Buzz" Amundson on thrashing lead guitar, Ian "C.B." Olson on ripping lead guitar, Jared "Rod" Amundson on luscious synth, Joseph "Hightower" Langer on bass domination, and Joel "Jazzbah" Wallace on assault drums, uniting for all-out aural devastation delivered via D.I.Y. sonic brutality under the banner of awe-inspiring mythical creatures. Their groundbreaking mixture of hardcore and death metal injected the Southern Wisconsin scene with new life through its twin lead guitar harmonies, punishing hyper-blastbeat attacks, bonecrushing doooooooooom riffs, face re-arranging breakdowns, and vocals reminiscent of an exploding nitroglycerine plant. After a Tigerpony set, you had to scrape your consciousness off of the floor and try to fit it back into your soundwave-shattered skull, all while nursing the wounds incurred from the most frenzied mosh pits ever witnessed by man! Their major hit was "Allybatross," an excursion into sludgey, black-encrusted DOOM, punctuated with what could only be described as the guitar equivalent of a 155 mm howitzer bombardment or a panzer blitzkrieg erupting through your speakers, and laced throughout with elegant, soaring keyboard themes. Their time in the limelight was brief, however, as, like so many other period-defining artists, they were simply too far ahead of their own time- their era's zeitgeist simply was not ready for the heretofore-unseen progression Tigerpony exhibited with each new 7" single recorded in Ian's basement. Ultimately, not knowing how to surpass their own work to date, Tigerpony opted to finish on top, and retired the band after a string of hits and unchallenged chart dominance, their legacy firmly established for centuries to come. This left its former members to pursue other projects such as To Contend Against Rome, 324, the Plumed Serpent, Judas Creep, Croatoan, the Dynasty, the Funeral of Being, Neriah, Captive, and many others. Their legions of devoted fans mourn the band's passing to this day and yearn for a return, glorious as the phoenix rising from the ashes, of the late, the great-
Tigerpony.
DISCLAIMER: Choice portions of this band biography are forays into fanciful exaggeration and extreme hyperbole, if not outright fabrications with no bearing in reality whatsoever. But rest assured, for one brief, shining moment, Tigerpony was about the coolest thing happening in Janesville, Wisconsin.*
*Or anywhere, for that matter.
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