Category: etc.

(Alert: Serious ****’s used in this post. But, really, I’m “****”ing someone else’s words. Whaa? Huh? Oh, just skip it if you’re offended by ****’s. S’everyone clear?)

Okay, all you cupcakes. Say you’re minding your own business at the mall. You’re quietly basking in that rapacious radiance that comes only from shopping. Deep in glowy reverie, you surely decide: Yes. Mankind just might be worth it after all. Wandering, happy with yourself, happy with everyone, you fail to see that young fellow sidling up to you. You hear before you see, and what you hear sounds like some sort of sleazy gangsta ad for Campbell’s soup:

“Mm-mm-mmm! You are one bad mother****er!”

You whirl around and see Mr. Mm-mm-mmm-er. You stare at him because … well, because you’re sure you heard him wrong. And because if you heard him right, you certainly don’t know what to say to that.

Because … is this a hip-hopper’s compliment, requiring a bewildered “thank you”? An insult needing some snappy retort or, failing that, an old-fashioned, but perhaps woefully unwise, slap? Or is this an assault-about-to-become-a-battery, demanding a fleet-footed retreat?

But, you see. You are greedy. You are dumb. You don’t know.

So you do nothing.

Luckily, your pitiful little poet keeps moving, muttering. Away from you. You eye him warily until that last inch of baggy pants trips around the corner. You and your courage are alone at last.

And now you can set your li’l feet to shopping like the “bad mother****er” you are!

All right. Go check out Blue Eyed Infidel and her li’l picture of dog and chick together. Read on to see how she relates it to the Terri Schiavo case. As a matter of fact, keep reading all her posts on this. Consider yourselves warned: She is foul-mouthed, but she shoots straight.

And, well, since dogs are still precious to us, check out this quiz, What Dog Are You? (H/T: The Anchoress)

And don’t despair; if someday someone decides you’re not human enough to live anymore, you can always tell them you’re also a German Pinscher, as I am. Or maybe you’ll get to be a Golden Retriever. But no worries. Whatever your outcome, your canine self will live for sure — with food, water, and probably even a nice, fluffy, doggie bed. So go take this test now and print up the results. You never know when you may need it as handy-dandy proof of your right to life.

Apparently, says the test, I will “bite first and think later.” Well, that does describe my mood — and many others’ — today. I’m all over the map. And, yeah, yeah, the other day I was champion of the “calm, reasoned port in the storm,” blah, blah. But I don’t feel that way today.

As we snuff out one helpless, imperfect, fallen life, in the name of freedom, does it make us more free? Or does it simply and horribly remind us just how helpless, imperfect, and fallen we all are? Jesus died to set captives free, but today, on Good Friday, during these “hours of darkness,” I’ve never felt more bondage to the fallen.

Oh, please come, Lord Jesus ….

Go read Psalm 142 — and pray for Terri, her family, and everyone involved in this tragic situation.

All right. I wasn’t going to post this weekend, but I wanted to put this out there. Teflon over at Molten Thought is catching flak for his new Ten Commandments, written to parody what, he believes, is the dumbing down of the Word and the pandering to gender politics found in the newly released Today’s New International Version. Some commenters on his blog found his “commandments” racist.

Here they are:

1. I am the cool mack daddy of the dope hype flow. Give me props and mad respect.

2. Don’t be kneeling for some bling bling,

3. Don’t be throwing my name around, be it J. Hovah or Yah Diddy.

4. Yo, Sunday is “funday,” ya dig?

5. Respect your moms, your pops, or whoever it was raised you, unless they whack.

6. Thou shalt not bust a cap in someone’s ass.

7. Don’t be running around on people like they don’t know.

8. No five-finger discounts.

9. Don’t front.

10. If your neighbor’s got a fly crib or a pimped-out set of wheels, that’s they bidness, not yours.

Read the comment section over there, too. And, tell me, what do you think? Parody? Racism?

Okay. I couldn’t help myself. I found this quiz for youse: What Obsolete Skill Are You?

Hey — I won’t be posting this weekend, it’s kinda late, and I’m hopped up on pain meds from a wee procedure, so this is what you get — a lousy, lazy blogger giving you another illuminating quiz. Worse still, I simply cannot bring myself to tell you what my results were — yet. Put it this way: I’ll confess it if someone else gets the same result. And confesses it first. Yep. I’m a coward.

I should’ve stuck with Prioress.

Here’s something I learned from my niece Piper last weekend. I share it with you to edify you, too.

Putting her to bed, I lie face to face with her, praying and talking a bit. Oh, and I hold her hand. She likes
that — uh, actually insists on it.

So the conversation went like this:

Piper: Gulls are moe special den boys, Tee Tee.

Me: Oh? Why is that?

Piper: Well, gulls have special fings.

Me: (Kinda hoping a kiddie anatomy lesson was forthcoming) Well, what things are those?

Piper: Well, gulls are sparkly and softie and boys are just haiwy.

Ah, truth ….

I volunteered over at Desperate Vision (actually, several days ago now) to continue the “Tag, You’re It” interviewing blog-a-thon. It’s a sort of blogger meet-and-greet — which I think is a good thing, a way to chip away at those cyber walls. So here are Amber Lynn’s questions to me — and my answers. ( I’ll say up front that I found a few of them hard to answer, but here is my best, honest attempt):

1. What is the one memory you would never want to lose?

So, admirably, right off the bat here, I’m gonna cheat because two things come to mind:

A trip to Montana with MB several summers ago. He was working on a promotional video for a ranch/resort and I got to tag along as his phenomenally indispensable “key grip” or “best boy-girl.” The deadline was tight and the client seemed to expect nothing less than a veritable Noah’s ark assortment of critter shots. And, you know, controlling God’s creation is harder than you might think. But the Lord had mercy — amazing mercy. We worked our bums off, but the shoot was done on time and the final product was extraordinary. (I say as the proud wife.) The whole experience being there was just exhilarating, exhausting, and jawdroppingly beautiful.

(And the part where I got a little too enthused about finally seeing the elusive Mamma and Baby Moose, jumped off the ATV, and started running giddily, stupidly, towards them? Uh, yeahhhh …. let’s pretend that didn’t happen.)

And my cheater-cheater second one?

A pivotal apology I received a few years ago from a fellow Christian. It came — not right away, not right after the offense — but over two years later, which actually made the apology that much more valuable to me, that much sweeter, because I knew the passage of time had made it that much harder for the person to apologize.

Because I grew up in a Christian family that did not proactively practice grace, this issue of apologizing, of seeking forgiveness, is a true touchstone for me. I can literally count on one hand the number of times someone has sought my forgiveness (outside the spousal relationship). But this believer, approaching me in person, just simply, eloquently, apologized and asked forgiveness. How can your respect for a person not skyrocket in the face of such immeasurable courage and humility? Those moments open a door for The Divine, for the Lord to come down and dwell in the midst of forgiveness sought, given, and received. It binds you together. It’s transformational. Because it’s the foundation of everything we believe. I will never forget it and I will always treasure it.

2. What do you like the most about yourself?

Ughhh …. hard. (But I’m sure most people would say that when asked.) After some thought, I say this: That I am sl-o-o-o-wly becoming better at seeking forgiveness in my own life — and not just from the Lord. Humbling ourselves before an Almighty God is a little easier than humbling ourselves before another flawed and fleshly human. But we’re called to do both. And the Lord has called me over the last while to crucify my flesh and seek forgiveness — no matter how painful, no matter what the outcome.

3. If you were going to go blind, what is the last thing you would want to see?

Ah, thank you, Amber Lynn, for an easy one! No brainer: My Beloved.

4. What calms you down?

Singing. Going for a long drive. Reading a Psalm. When MB holds me. There, that one was relatively easy. Phheww ….

5. Who is your role model or hero and why?

Another tricky one. Hmmm …. I don’t have one. (That possibly sounds pathetic. Ah, well.)
I find I admire specific characteristics that people possess, but, to me, having a role model or hero implies admiration and emulation of the total person. Haven’t found that in any one person, except for the Lord.

Thank you for the great questions, Amber Lynn. Made me work me noggin a bit, which I appreciate.

So here’s the deal, peeps. To keep the “Tag, You’re It” community of interviews alive, I now extend an offer to interview one of you. It works like this:

1. Leave me a note in the comments section saying “Interview Me.”

2. I’ll post some questions in my comments section for you to answer.

3. You’ll post those answers on your blog — hey, and let me know when you’ve answered, so I can come and check ’em out.

4. You will then include an offer on your blog to interview someone else with 5 original questions.

(Wow. Now I’m nervous that no one will say “yes” …. It’s like when we girls were supposed to ask the boys to that wretched Sadie Hawkins Dance. That freaked me out, too. So someone, have pit-eeee ….)

And don’t click on the “continue reading” link below, because thar ain’t no more! I just can’t make it go away. Well, I imagine I can, but I don’t know how ….

A reader of this blog — let’s just call her Wonder Woman — and I have been having an energizing, edifying email conversation. I wish I could just put the whole darn thing up here — and I may post portions — but some of it’s just, well, too personal.

At one point, we pondered a question which I now put to you:

Is there such a thing as a Christian with no conscience?

I’d be interested in your responses ….

All right. I’m the grouch. I’m watching the Oscars right now. Can I just say sumpin’ here? What is with the staging tonight?! May I please say that it deeply, honestly sucks? They’re bringing the nominees for some of the less sexy awards — Art Direction, Costume Design — ONTO THE STAGE, just to stand there, waiting in front of the whole watching world to see if they’ve won, like some athletic losers hoping to be picked for the softball team in junior high PE.

When the Oscar is announced, the winner steps forward, and the losers — well, the losers are whisked offstage to their shame dates with Doritos and Ding Dongs and, ultimately, the panic disorders that began the night they got the humiliating thrill of standing onstage as the LOSERS at the freaking ACADEMY AWARDS, no less!! The stage should be the magical place where the winning happens, not the place where the nightmares begin. Don’t make a spectacle of the poor, disappointed people. What’s next? Losers are devoured by lions? Chased by blood-thirsty paparazzi?

Ah. Now I see the directors are also having the stars go INTO THE AUDIENCE to present these awards that nobody cares about. Here’s Cate Blanchett, loitering in an aisle, announcing whatever award this is. And the winner is ….. shockingly, that person in the aisle seat right next to her. WOW. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING! Now this hapless winner has stepped up to the rickety microphone — which just magically appeared — to give her speech in this ultra-glam locale.

And, and this lucky gal gets to be upstaged throughout her entire speech by the eye-catching, attention-grabbing presence of Cate Blanchett who is still in the shot — because the shot’s too freaking wide and the aisle’s too freaking narrow and it’s utterly freaking stoopid. (Hmm …. seems I’m a little bugged.)

But back to my live rant. Look, don’t steal the winner’s moment by making them seem pale in comparison to the luminous, unreal aura of a movie star. Don’t put the winner or the star in some clunky, stupid, but “new” location, just to be avant-garde. Don’t put the winner in an aisle where they have their backs to half the audience. They’re upstaging themselves — through no fault of their own. No thoughtful director would do that to his “people.” It strikes me as insensitive. And I understand it seems like an expeditious TV choice. Sure, you’re cutting down on “walking” time if the winner is sitting or standing right there. But it takes something away from the grandeur of the show and it certainly steals something ineffable from the winner’s moment. Hey, when we practice our acceptance speeches in our mirrors, we’re imaining ourselves walking our glorious walk up to that glorious stage, not standing in a squishy aisle, battling for screen time with a person who’s paid to be a screen hog. That’s the winner’s moment and it shouldn’t be messed with, FOR. PETE’S. SAKE! (Wow. Seems I am disproportionately annoyed.)

But — I just can’t stop!

Because what other “avant-garde” locations await us tonight??

I mean, are we going to see “Gwyneth Paltrow presenting from …. the slimy-floored kitchen!” or “Nicole Kidman ….. from the alley trash cans with the deranged hobo reaction!” or “Anthony Hopkins …. presenting a winner, some losers, and a few snivelers, LIVE …. from the men’s room urinals!” ??

WHO THE HELL KNOWS??

Okay. Shhhh. Gotta watch.

My friend Greg at What Attitude Problem had this just-for-fun quiz up the other day: Which Fantasy/Sci-Fi Character Are You? Apparently, in this Other Realm I am not even female — nope. I am Luke Skywalker — son of that evil, heavy breather with the unfortunate head gear who wants to destroy the universe. But wait. Don’t I attack and try to kill him? (But then don’t do it because I’m so thoroughly noble that I don’t want to give in to the hate, etc.?) Hmmmm …. feeling a little better.

After all, this definitive, life-altering quiz does say of Me-Luke:

Boldly striving to overcome the darkness both in this world and within yourself, you are righteously devoted to forging your own destiny.

And then, this telling quote from Me-Luke:

“It’s your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers.”

(Oh, yeahhh. Someone throw me a light saber ….)

Update: Now I’m shamelessly stealing something else from dear Greg (who got it from Boar’s Head Tavern.) It’s another quiz (Hey, I’m sorry. I’m still malaisey): Worldview Center’s Christian Worldview Test. Go to that page, scroll to the bottom where you have to “register” (as your Fantasy/Sci-Fi Character, of course) in order to take the test.

I agree with Greg; some of the questions are a wee scary — and seemingly out of place. (Well, one in particular, but I won’t give it away. Take the test and tell me which one strikes you that way.)

I scored — as did Greg — as “Strong Biblical Worldview Thinker.” Good for me, I guess? But as a commenter over at Boar’s Head Tavern said, “Is this test inerrant?” As I took it, I felt like I knew what answers were expected of me to get the “highest score.” Ah, old habits truly die hard.

We may have the “proper worldview,” but how is that translating over into our lives — how we live, how we love Jesus, how we love one another …. our lifeview ….

(This Just In: MB is YODA. Drat that man! How long’s he gonna hold that over my lame li’l Luke Skywalker head? Stupid quiz.)