So this is the fortieth anniversary of Woodstock. For those too young to remember it, well you are in good company because even though a half a million people went, most of us didn't know about it until we read the story in Newsweek. The real question is not who knew then, but where did all those Hippies go. All the free love, liberal thinkers. Because as I look around at my generation, there aren't a lot of free love liberals. Republicans don't go to orgiastic open air events. If the media can be trusted on this one, and I think they can, Republicans like their orgies behind closed doors, in private and preferably in an out of the way place like Argentina.
But back to the question at hand. Where did they go. One theory is that they all died or were abducted by space aliens and taken to a planet of love. (Variant popular in "the day" - they were whisked away in a yellow submarine to a secret island funded by the Beatles) At any rate we know where they really went, they of the free love and pass the dope generation went to Business School where they learned to embrace their inner capitalist and gave up pot for vodka and Bordeaux.
Chanting the Hare Krishna gave way to Amazing Grace and the only prophetic vision of the time that has lasted, at least in my suburb, seems to be from Janis Joplin who opined "Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz, My friends all drive Porches I must make amends."
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Jesus, My best friend and personal buddy
Long ago on a dark night while at an overnight retreat at a camp near Ligonier, Pennsylvania I had a close encounter with the Personal Christ Crowd. I was in the 9th grade and had recently joined my parent's church.
As I prepared to get some sleep the adult supervisor in the tent said to me, "You know when you were before the Session to join the church you were asked if you accepted Jesus as your Savior. You said yes, but we know that you didn't really mean it."
Gulp, these guys can read minds. What does he mean I didn't mean it?
He went on, "I was sitting in a barber chair once and the barber was shaving my neck. He put the razor to the front of my neck and asked me if I had accepted Jesus and that he wouldn't rest until I did. That," the man continued, "was the most important day in my life and I am going to give you the same chance tonight. You will not sleep until you have accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour."
He was actually serious and I was truly scared, How would he know and what the hell does it mean to accept this Jesus. I must be kind of dumb because I just don't know how one communicates this sort of thing to God Almighty and I was not and still am not sure that such requests are even valid when made under duress. Heck I am not sure how one forms the relationship with another human. It takes time, it takes talking, trusting. You don't just walk up to someone and say "Hi, I am going to be your friend." But the Jesus people seem to do just that. Good for them.
I argued and eventually acquiesced, what else could I do, I wanted to get some sleep. The man seemed happy and I avoided him from then on as I tended to avoid all authority figures in that church. They were wacko's, I thought. Turns out that they were not alone. Our world is full of people who have these daily conversations with God and have Jesus as their best buddy. It must be nice but try as I might, I have never gotten my head around that particular nonsense.
When I accepted the Church etc. it was more out of the spirit that of which I thought Jesus might approve. "What does the LORD require of you but to do Justice, love Mercy and walk humbly with your God?" No equality there, even the humble walk for me has always been at a distance. God is after all the unknowable, all knowing one and it scares the Hell out of me to get close to that sort of power. It is just who I am. But evidentally doing God's will according to Scriptures is not enough and I have to have an imaginary playmate, No thanks. It didn't work that night, and it won''t work today.
No, my God is personal, but he sure isn't my buddy, friend.
As I prepared to get some sleep the adult supervisor in the tent said to me, "You know when you were before the Session to join the church you were asked if you accepted Jesus as your Savior. You said yes, but we know that you didn't really mean it."
Gulp, these guys can read minds. What does he mean I didn't mean it?
He went on, "I was sitting in a barber chair once and the barber was shaving my neck. He put the razor to the front of my neck and asked me if I had accepted Jesus and that he wouldn't rest until I did. That," the man continued, "was the most important day in my life and I am going to give you the same chance tonight. You will not sleep until you have accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour."
He was actually serious and I was truly scared, How would he know and what the hell does it mean to accept this Jesus. I must be kind of dumb because I just don't know how one communicates this sort of thing to God Almighty and I was not and still am not sure that such requests are even valid when made under duress. Heck I am not sure how one forms the relationship with another human. It takes time, it takes talking, trusting. You don't just walk up to someone and say "Hi, I am going to be your friend." But the Jesus people seem to do just that. Good for them.
I argued and eventually acquiesced, what else could I do, I wanted to get some sleep. The man seemed happy and I avoided him from then on as I tended to avoid all authority figures in that church. They were wacko's, I thought. Turns out that they were not alone. Our world is full of people who have these daily conversations with God and have Jesus as their best buddy. It must be nice but try as I might, I have never gotten my head around that particular nonsense.
When I accepted the Church etc. it was more out of the spirit that of which I thought Jesus might approve. "What does the LORD require of you but to do Justice, love Mercy and walk humbly with your God?" No equality there, even the humble walk for me has always been at a distance. God is after all the unknowable, all knowing one and it scares the Hell out of me to get close to that sort of power. It is just who I am. But evidentally doing God's will according to Scriptures is not enough and I have to have an imaginary playmate, No thanks. It didn't work that night, and it won''t work today.
No, my God is personal, but he sure isn't my buddy, friend.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Geometry revisited
Take a point any point.
Now find another point. Any point.
We now have a line and one dimension.
Now take your line and find any point not on the line.
We now have a plane and perhaps if we were to connect our points, a planar figure, a triangle.
Take the triangle and find a point outside of the triangle that is not in the same plane. (Just for fun and to keep it simple let us make out triangle equilateral. And just for fun let us pick our point as the one that is equidistant from all of the end points of the triangle.)
We have a three dimensional object, a tetrahedron if you made all the line segments equal, but no matter really if you did not.
Now let us find a point that is outside the tetrahedron and equidistant from each of the endpoints of the tetrahedron (again it need not be exactly so but it is prettier this way).
Now let us take our figure and rotate it through all of its possible movements. Congratulations you have just mapped the fourth dimension and made a time machine in the process.
Now find another point. Any point.
We now have a line and one dimension.
Now take your line and find any point not on the line.
We now have a plane and perhaps if we were to connect our points, a planar figure, a triangle.
Take the triangle and find a point outside of the triangle that is not in the same plane. (Just for fun and to keep it simple let us make out triangle equilateral. And just for fun let us pick our point as the one that is equidistant from all of the end points of the triangle.)
We have a three dimensional object, a tetrahedron if you made all the line segments equal, but no matter really if you did not.
Now let us find a point that is outside the tetrahedron and equidistant from each of the endpoints of the tetrahedron (again it need not be exactly so but it is prettier this way).
Now let us take our figure and rotate it through all of its possible movements. Congratulations you have just mapped the fourth dimension and made a time machine in the process.
Someone remind me
Just why we want more ethanol production? If I recall correctly it not only creates CO2 in the production phase, but also in the combustion. Then there is the "starving children" argument wherein the production of ethanol takes away crop land and corn from food production.
Benefits anyone. (But I get the cynical because it makes money one, afterall it is my blog)
Benefits anyone. (But I get the cynical because it makes money one, afterall it is my blog)
It really is all about the bathroom
I was listening to a review of movie trend at the website afterellen.com recently. The reviewers were disturbed with what they saw as an odd trend in lesbian movies, the bathroom encounter. We have all seen these scenes, usually some variation of two women at a bar/restaurant fall in lust, one goes to the lady's, the other follows and mad passionate sex occurs. The women who were commenting couldn't figure out from where this behavior was coming. The answer is, as usual, very simple - men write this stuff. What is not so obvious is why would men write this stuff.
Now I cannot speak with much certainty about the rituals and activities in the women's bath or locker rooms. The last such contact that I had was years ago and led as a matter of course to the terrible life shaping incident which is the topic of today's blog.
It was summer and my mother had taken my sister's and I to the swimming pool. (South Park near Pittsburgh, PA if it matters) It was probably a week day, my father was not there. We all went to the women's locker room. I was young, how young I can't really remember but probably 5 if we were in Pittsburgh, but evidentally is was not young enough. A bit of a controversy brewed and I have the distinct impression that it was the opinion of at least some that I was too old to be in the dressing room, with my mother or not. This was my last opportunity to witness the rituals and alas I wasn't that much too old, sorry guys, no details.
At the end of our swimming session my mother sent me to the men's locker room and told me that she would meet me at the other entrance. Alone, I ventured forth. The first obstacle was a large room with showerheads everywhere. Were I older and more sophisticated, my fantasies of being thrown into such a room may have led me to retreat immediately in fear for my life, but I ventured on, alone, afraid, but sure that the only way back to the safety of my mother's arms lay in the maze of dark green lockers that lay ahead. So I passed, equipped for protection with nothing but a towel, through the rooms of shower heads past what I can now, in the comfort of these many years, easily recognize as the toilet facility with it's imposing trough- what happens there I would ask myself - and into the empty and vast locker room. How I ever navigated that dank smelling, dangerous and absolutely deserted of any human being, only ogres and demons could be there, place I will never know, but at the end I must have survived with this truth firmly imbedded in my consciousness - The men's room is a dark dangerous place, if you must enter go in quickly and get the hell out!
Later I would learn the rules: "don't peek""do your business and get out" "don't shake it to much" "no eye contact" "don't talk -don't talk to anyone." This later of course is controversial - there are some men who talk a lot, in the men's room, and it is scary talk - more of that later.
But to return to the topic of sex in the bathroom - yes ladies it is reported to happen and men seem to do a lot of it. Most of us are too damn afraid of it happening to us to notice, but the reports are out there. So it only seems right in the male mind, if it happens to us . . .
Now I cannot speak with much certainty about the rituals and activities in the women's bath or locker rooms. The last such contact that I had was years ago and led as a matter of course to the terrible life shaping incident which is the topic of today's blog.
It was summer and my mother had taken my sister's and I to the swimming pool. (South Park near Pittsburgh, PA if it matters) It was probably a week day, my father was not there. We all went to the women's locker room. I was young, how young I can't really remember but probably 5 if we were in Pittsburgh, but evidentally is was not young enough. A bit of a controversy brewed and I have the distinct impression that it was the opinion of at least some that I was too old to be in the dressing room, with my mother or not. This was my last opportunity to witness the rituals and alas I wasn't that much too old, sorry guys, no details.
At the end of our swimming session my mother sent me to the men's locker room and told me that she would meet me at the other entrance. Alone, I ventured forth. The first obstacle was a large room with showerheads everywhere. Were I older and more sophisticated, my fantasies of being thrown into such a room may have led me to retreat immediately in fear for my life, but I ventured on, alone, afraid, but sure that the only way back to the safety of my mother's arms lay in the maze of dark green lockers that lay ahead. So I passed, equipped for protection with nothing but a towel, through the rooms of shower heads past what I can now, in the comfort of these many years, easily recognize as the toilet facility with it's imposing trough- what happens there I would ask myself - and into the empty and vast locker room. How I ever navigated that dank smelling, dangerous and absolutely deserted of any human being, only ogres and demons could be there, place I will never know, but at the end I must have survived with this truth firmly imbedded in my consciousness - The men's room is a dark dangerous place, if you must enter go in quickly and get the hell out!
Later I would learn the rules: "don't peek""do your business and get out" "don't shake it to much" "no eye contact" "don't talk -don't talk to anyone." This later of course is controversial - there are some men who talk a lot, in the men's room, and it is scary talk - more of that later.
But to return to the topic of sex in the bathroom - yes ladies it is reported to happen and men seem to do a lot of it. Most of us are too damn afraid of it happening to us to notice, but the reports are out there. So it only seems right in the male mind, if it happens to us . . .
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