HEAD(hed), (n.) 1. the top part of the human body or the front part of an animal where the eyes, nose, east and mouth are. "Your brain is in your head." DIBS(dibz), (n.) 2. a thick, sweet syrup made in countries of the East, especially the Middle East, from grape juice or dates. [Arabic "debs"]--World Book Dictionary, 1976.
It was actually yesterday, but you know how these calendars work. Things to do today: 1) ponder the error of your ways; 2) take a moment to dance a little; 3) have a snack; 4) enjoy a makeover (if applicable); 5) be specific when describing the ruckus. 6) Don’t forget about me.
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Currently Reading: "Walden And Civil Disobedience"
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I'm at the point in my life where I could be happy with a small armload of books. When I survey the blocks of paper occupying my shelves, I am grateful for the minds who share their thoughts in them, but it's a crowd of voices. I'd like to surround myself with a few great men who have great things to say--the kind of men who would pull a knife from their pocket, slice off a chunk of apple and ruminate with horse-sense on things that really matter.
I am spending some time with an old friend I've not visited in well over 30 years. I'm out on a pond outside Concord, Massachusetts. You might know the place, on the way to Boston. You might know my friend, the anarchist Henry David Thoreau.
Giving the Stoics a break, I'm reading Thoreau's "Walden And Civil Disobedience" with pencil in hand. No agenda. Just visiting. Just one book from the pile I'd rescue from a fire or wouldn't mind being stranded with. (I carry three in my backpack at all times: this book, Marcus Aurelius' "Meditations" and Seneca's Moral Letters).
He's a man who delivers. I've already noted some passages I might share in days to come, such as the following that harmonizes nicely with my Stoic theme of the month:
"But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before." (Thoreau, Walden, "Economy")
I can't help but wonder if Pink Floyd had this book in mind, because as I read his first chapter on "Economy" and he speaks of men who are born on their land, eat the fruit of their own dirt only to die and compost the same land, I hear the following song:
"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things." (Thoreau, Walden, "Economy")
And there it is: wisdom does not do desperate things.
July 2004 I went to Kenya, Africa to speak in two Pastor’s Conferences on the subject of Man, Sin and Salvation. At the end of each day I left just over an hour for questions (half the time were questions touching the subject of my lectures, and the other half for “open questions”; that is, people could ask anything). For the next few weeks, I will be sharing the questions that were asked of me, and my answers—and believe me when I say these people really know how to think! Question from Kenya #1: “Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?” [“ But He said, ‘You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live! ’” (Exodus 33:20) was the basis of the student’s question]. Answer: First, consider those who did see God—how did they respond when they saw Him? They were instantly aware of their sinfulness, and God’s holiness and righteousness (to name a few. And notice also that each responded in an attitude of worship, bowing down): Abraham built altars, wors
“My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight? Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the fame, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance refuse. Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the earth, so doth thy Majesty: Each cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Wh
John Locke published his Treatise on Civil Government in 1689, a work influential to the development of our Declaration of Independence. The focus of this reading is, “An Essay Concerning the True Original Extent and End of Civil Government.” Locke announces that consent to live by the constitutional laws of government is rooted in the fact that all men are created equal. No one is born one over or better than another, but we actually owe one another, our greatest debt being love for others before ourselves. In the so-called “state of nature”, anyone choosing to break the smallest of laws declares himself to be above all law and others; therefore, the lawbreaker deserves judgment, even punishment, by those who keep the law. “The state of war” is “the right to destroy that which threatens me with destruction.” Slavery, says Locke, is a state of war; however, if one party consents to be obedient to another with limited power, then there is government. Of all governmental powers, suprem