The Meter

On buying food

2011-11-25T14:40:00.000-08:00

I've been cooking quite a lot recently, as Boaz and LaRae have left for their Christmas vacation, and the lady who usually helps LaRae to cook has also taken off for the month. I've kept careful track of what I buy at the market so that I can learn how to cook things economically here. I thought some of you would be interested to see the things I've gotten at the market the past three trips.

November 10, 2011

Item	Quantity	Cost -- CFA / ($)*
Salt	1 kilo	150 CFA (0.33)
Potatoes	2 kilos	1,300 CFA (2.88)
Banana	1 hand (8)	500 CFA (1.11)
Lentils	1 kilo	900 CFA (2.00)
Cornmeal	2 kilos	700 CFA (1.55)
Onions	2 kilos	600 CFA (1.33)
Baking Powder	250 grams	500 CFA (1.11)
Garlic	1/2 kilo	500 CFA (1.11)
Carrots	1 kilo	1,000 CFA (2.22)
Ginger	1/4 kilo	600 CFA (1.33)
Powdered milk	1 bag	1,500 CFA (3.33)
Green Olives	1 jar	750 CFA (1.67)

Conversion based on the exchange rate of 450 CFA / $1.00 USD... this is usually variable between 450-500 CFA / $1.00 USD.

November 13, 2011

Item	Quantity	Cost -- CFA / ($)*
Sugar	2 kilos	1300 CFA (2.88)
Spaghetti	4 packages	1600 CFA (3.55)
Couscous	2 kilos	1600 CFA (3.55)
Potatoes	2 kilos	1200 CFA (2.66)
Tomatoes	1 kilo	1500 CFA (3.33)
Peanut Butter	2 kilos	2000 CFA (4.44)
Bananas	11 bananas	700 CFA (1.55)
Tomato Paste	2 large cans	2,100 CFA (4.66)
Cabbage	1 kilo (4 small heads)	1,000 CFA (2.22)
Chives	1 small bunch	100 CFA (0.22)
Parsley	1 small bunch	100 CFA (0.22)

November 17, 2011

Item	Quantity	Cost -- CFA / ($)*
Bananas	10	500 CFA (1.11)
White Flour	2 kilos	950 CFA (2.11)
Onions	2 kilos	600 CFA (1.33)
Chives	1 bunch	100 CFA (0.22)
Beans	1 kilo	700 CFA (1.55)
Couscous	2 kilos	1600 CFA (3.55)
Grapefruit	3	500 CFA (1.11)

This week

2011-10-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

This week I've worked on:

1. Clearing under the Cashew and Mango trees with a machete on the west side of the Dispensaire. I'm slow with a machete, but God has been helping me, and with Boaz's help on Friday -- we've cleaned up a modestly encouraging amount of land.

2. Taking care of the Baby that has come under Boaz and LaRae's care while LaRae was getting things in town. I don't have any experience in caring for infants (she's about 1 month old), but I've discovered some interesting things in the process of trying to accustom my clumsy hands to the care of such a fragile thing:

A) Changing cloth diapers isn't too bad.

B) Baby seemed to calm down and sleep better when I set her beside my computer which was softly playing Brandenburg #5!

3. Studying french.

4. Cleaning up a 1969 vintage baby incubator. I prayed that God would help the machine to work after I plugged it in, and miraculously enough, the machine's glow-light shone reassuringly and heat began to slowly radiate from the element! With a little electrical tape to cover some exposed wires, we now have an operating incubator for the maternity ward. Praise God!

5. My current housemate (Kintino Biaye) contracted a bad case of Malaria during the week. I was up with him at 2:00 AM one morning to go to rout the nurse out of bed and to get some ampules of Quinine-Resorcine ("Paluject") out of the pharmacy. He spent the rest of the night and a day in the Dispensaire connected to an IV, and now is doing better. Keep him in your prayers!

6. Working on weeding, trellising, and watering in the Garden. Continued experimentation with Neem tree pesticides. Garden time makes me happy!

Here are two lessons that I've thought of this week:

1. Boaz and LaRae have taught me a lot about thinking about the sustainability of the various plans you set in place in any project. As I worked in the fields this week, I realized that -- as much as I believe that I am making a contribution -- the grass and shrubs will inevitably grow back when I am gone. As I reflected on this, I thought of the only truly sustainable thing that we can do in life: make relationships that lead others to a transformative relationship with Christ.

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, “The righteous shall live by faith.” Romans 1: 16-17 English Standard Version

2. It is a gift to give. This is a hard paradox to express, but here's a crack at it.

When we give to receive, we will not receive enough to keep on giving. When we give without expecting to receive, Christ, the author of this otherwise impossible act, will fill us overwhelming satisfaction and joy.

Some things I'm especially thankful for this week:

1. God's love and protection, his judgements and mercies.

2. My wonderful, wonderful, fiancée Martina!

3. The chance to work with my hands.

Bird List

2011-10-11T12:26:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to identify some birds while I'm here. To be honest, some of the birds on this list are as mundane as a Crow in America (see Pied Crow) ... but as a complete novice, I'm happy with what might be boring to a better birder.

That brings up an interesting point.

I've discovered the joy of observing birds only in the past two years. My newfound incompetence is matched only by my budding enthusiasm. My work in Senegal has brought me into contact with a rich variety of new birds, and each bird that I see is a peculiar blessing from God. Other things that I've had a liking for (I think of collecting stamps when I was little) have faded away into obscurity. I certainly hope that the familiarity and competence that I hope to someday gain as I watch birds will not make me lose the joy of simply watching them, and delighting in each one. This makes me think of my walk with Christ.

⁴Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.

⁵Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent.

Revelation 2:4-5 KJV

Great White Pelican

Hamerkop

Yellow-billed Stork

Pied Crow

African Finfoot

Laughing Dove

Speckled Pigeon

Piapiac (aka African Magpie)

Blue-Breasted Kingfisher

African Pygmy Kingfisher

White-Crowned Robin-Chat

Northern Red Bishop

Lavender Waxbill

Red-Cheeked Cordon-Bleu

Red-Billed Firefinch

Pin-Tailed Whydah

mind the gap

2011-10-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

I was working to dig out stumps in the orchard one morning. The Senegalese hoe is wide and flat with a short though substantial handle. It cuts clean through the sandy-soft soil, but my soft hands exact a blister per stump mileage that is almost as painful as the thought of driving a Hummer down the highway. I paused mid-stump to wipe the sweat sting out of my eyes, and was surprised to see a gum-booted lab technician ghost into the orchard atop his smoothly purring motorcycle.

The apparition introduced himself as Kalidu ______, a man paid by USAID to work with NGOs and local fruit growers on reducing the fly population. We shook hands gingerly: I because of my blisters, he because of how dirty my hand was. As I returned to work, he abruptly said:

"Why are you doing this?"

I stopped, and straightened again to answer. Before I could, he resumed:

"It is very hard for you. You could pay someone here to do this for you."

"Because I want to understand. ... And because I feel like God has called me here to do this" was my oblique answer.

We stared at each other in friendly, but deeply uncomprehending silence. I believe he understood what I had said, but we were separated by an idealogical chasm that went far deeper than language barriers. He was fed by a culture of aid that says: "Pay the locals to accomplish foreign agendas." I was the living antithesis to that culture.

As I turned back to digging on my stump, I couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Thousands of airfare dollars later (dollars that could have been used to employ local workers), I was blistering over the slow performance of a job that would have been child's play to a local worker -- toughened and trained as they are to crank out hard manual labor by the necessity of a lifetime. "Yes," I thought to myself, "maybe the Dispensaire would have been better off if I had ..."

A branch snapped nearby and I looked up to see the fly-man placing a perfectly good mango in a small shopping bag. Sometimes one might pick a diseased or infected mango to control flies, so I bit my tongue and kept working, with one eye on the tread of the gum boots. I watched in disbelief as Kalidu continued to fill his shopping bag with perfect mangos. The white lab coat fluttered in the breeze under his well-stuffed backpack as he puttered out through the gate with a friendly wave of his hand.

There is often a gap between ideas and application. When ideas cross cultural boundaries, the rift potential increases. USAID pumps money into an idea: reduce flies in the Casamance, and you'll jack up fruit productivity and cut disease. The application? USAID pays for a man to steal mangos in a white lab coat and gum boots.

The gap between ideas and application is a problem that afflicts every level of society. While it is most obvious on a "big level," where money and culture and religion gets thrown into the mix, it is most intransigent on a personal level.

Our garden beans are getting eaten by bugs. I tried making a natural Neem-tree pesticide for our garden here. Following the directions of an organic gardener (originally from france) named Lucas, I put the leaves of a Neem tree in a 5-gallon bucket, and waited for them to turn white -- the point where the leaves have released the active ingredient to combat the biters. At this point, I was supposed to add a little bit of soap so that the mixture would stick to the leaves, and spray it on. The idea appealed (and still appeals) to me as an eco-friendly solution. Five days after my attempt at applying the idea, I'm frustrated to find the Neem leaves are still quite green. As I watched the bean plants slowly disappearing, I decided to resort to spraying a pesticide self-labled as "DURSBAN: 480 g chloropyrifos-éthyl" [(not quite IUPAC, is it ;)] on the beans. The pesticide reminded me forcibly of some nasty paint I put on the bottom of our sailboat every spring: I'm not sure whether that testifies more to the illegitimacy of "Dursban" or the toxicity of the paint. At any rate, you can see how my application of an "eco-friendly" control of the buggers quickly degraded itself into a corrosive slap-dab last-ditch attempt that would justify my immediate expulsion from the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association (MOFGA) that I was once an upstanding member of.

And if you're like me, you see even deeper, darker corners of your life where there exists a gap between "the idea" and "the application."

If we, through the grace and power of Christ, were to start first with filling in the gap between our personal, spiritual ideas and applications, we would see every subsequent layer of society changed for the good. This is integrity: a quality of oneness or wholeness that consistently denies the hypocrisy of personal gaps.

So I've kept away at digging at those stumps. I do want to understand... I want to bridge the gap between my soft hands and their tradition-hardened minds. But most of all, I want Christ to change me ... on the inside. If the world were a subway, we'd do well to mind that voice in the darkness:

"Mind the gap."

"He told them another parable. "The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened." Matthew 13:33 - English Standard Version

No Greater Love

2011-09-30T16:34:00.000-07:00

"Do you want to come with me to take a lady into the hospital in Ziguinchor?" Boaz asked.

"Yes... I do. I'll try to be quick."

I ran beside the peanut fields to my house about 150 feet away to change from my work shorts into my last clean clothes (a pair of scrubs I pillaged from a donations pile in Peru, donning with them the role of jungle dentist). Boaz was soon nursing our ambulance skillfully across the badly pitted surface of the road. Dr. Andres (a visiting GP who had worked in Niaguis not long before), Nurse Jean Sambou, and I sat in silence punctuated only by periodic rendezvous with especially savage potholes.

In Senegal, the village is the family unit. The act of life is simply played on a larger stage; as the village is bounded only by the river, the rice paddies, or the untamed vegetation which surrounds it. When we arrived at the mud-brick house, the family was there to greet us... the village family, that is. Women lined the walls of the house, sitting in chairs or on the ground. A crowd of men stood separately under the shade of a mango tree in the front yard. We pushed through the stares to enter the low doorway, as Boaz waited outside with the Ambulance. We were led to a back room, dark except for the dusty light which filtered in from the outside door. In this dim world there gradually appeared two women. Our patient lay face up on a blanket which intervened between her motionless form and the dirt floor. Above her, an older, heavier-set woman stood hunched over in sweaty anguish. The story was simple enough:

"The girl gave birth a few hours ago" --here, the older woman gestured obliquely behind her.

"She bled a lot. Yes, quite a lot."

"She was sitting up after the birth, talking with family. Then she stopped talking. No, she wouldn't respond. So we called you ..."

Dr. Andres knelt on the floor. Pulse -- weak, but still there. Barely breathing.

She stirred once in a weak, restless way.

Cell-phone light to check her pupil reflex. Nothing. That's bad. She's brain dead.

Dr. Andres rose from his knees, brushing the dirt away as he did. He spoke in english to Jean: "She's brain dead. I'd star CPR and take her to the hospital, but even in the unlikely event we could make it 30 minutes over the deeply rutted road, she will be a vegetable. Maybe you should explain to the family... I don't know the culture well enough."

Jean spread his hands palms up in the universal gesture of futility. Turning to the older woman, he explained the situation to her in french. Family members who had been eavesdropping from the door now pushed into the room.

"Why don't you take her to the hospital?" "Is she dead?"

"No, no, she's not dead..." said Dr. Andres. Jean knelt to find her pulse. We joined as he adjusted his fingers for a second try at her wrist... different position... try the neck ... try the foot... nothing ... wait! was that something? ... nothing now, no ... no ... no ... nothing.

Family men chiseled by hard work now surrounded us. "What's going on?"

"We're very sorry, but she was effectively dead before we arrived..." Jean explained again and again as each relative pressed in and wanted to hear the truth for themselves. Grief etched its determined lines over their faces as we watched.

"What about the baby?" Someone asked.

The older woman turned wearily to the bed behind her and scooped up a small bundle of rags. In the faint light, I saw an impossibly tiny form swathed in a single dirty cloth. The mother, it came out, had not yet fed her baby. Hours after birth, this baby -- which at 1.5 kilos would have been committed to a NICU in the states -- was indeed in a bad position.

News of the mother's death reached the outside of the house before we did. As we considered what to do, the wild wailing of relatives and friends pierced the former whispered silence. Some were in favor of us taking the mother's body out in the Ambulance, but the family at length asked us to take the baby and leave the mother. The older woman -- who turned out to be a family friend and midwife of sorts-- moved with us carrying the baby to the ambulance. Amidst the wailing women, one passed out cold, but was revived within a short time.

On return to the clinic, we wrapped the baby in a clean towel, and committed the care of the baby to LaRae's capable hands. The first few days were "touch and go" for the baby: risk of infection was enormous ... and dehydration proceeded from the baby's disinclination to drink from the bottle. Dr. Andres placed an IV after several attempts and much prayer in the baby's threadlike veins, and from that point, there has been gradual but steady improvement. LaRae has carefully tended to the baby (now named Fatou by relatives), and the sure reward of such loving care has been that the baby has gained a good amount of weight and smiles a great deal.

The saddest part of this story is the prologue, which was related to us several days later. Fatou's father is an alcoholic ne'r-do-well that depended upon his wife to support the family and his habit. The wife had continued to work at collecting sticks throughout her pregnancy in order to keep food on the table for her lazy husband and small children. This doubtless contributed to the premature birth, but the true irony is that the mother's life-giving spirit -- her overwork during pregnancy -- may have been what killed her.

This strange juxtaposition of life and death reminded me of what Christ did in dying for us, that we might have His life. He who lived that we might live also died that we might live. In some ways, we fought harder for Baby Fatou's life in those first days because we realized at what price she had be born. Do we realize at what price Christ purchased our birth as His children?

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers." 1 John 3:16

the living word

2011-09-05T09:43:00.000-07:00

When I read from Ephesians 3 this morning, it reminded me of the way I write to my fiancée, Martina. When Paul speaks of Christ's love (starting in verse 14), superlatives link one on another, tumbling into a small avalanche of run-on sentences. What struck me before as the dense circumlocutions of erudition are now the hopeless but enduring efforts of a man who is completely in love.

It's a hard thing to describe, but lack for words or eloquence has never halted love's expression. I'm not sure how I'll communicate with Martina in Senegal, but I know I'll try every day this year. I'm even less sure how I'll ever tell her how much I love her, but I'll try every day for the rest of my life.

Paul lived that love for Jesus. I want to do that, too.

God's love, of course, came first. In the beginning was the Word . . . the Word became a human, and lived with us, full of grace and truth. Of all lovers, God is in the best position to write a love letter. He could simply create the perfect words to describe the fullness, the essence, and the intent of His love to his rebellious creation. Yet the Word chose to live among us -- to actively define His love by example. Yes, He left us a book full of the most beautiful love poetry in the world, but that wasn't all. He lived that love for us. I want to live my love to Martina, and I especially want to learn to live that love for Him who first loved me.

Senegal

2011-06-13T11:18:00.000-07:00

In early September I'll fly to Senegal to work at the AHI-run adventist dispensaire with Boaz and LaRae Papendick. From my understanding, the clinic is located in or near Ziguinchor, below Gambia's insertion. I believe I'll be working in the garden and helping out with building construction there, but I'll be happy to try my hand at whatever is needed.

photo source

This is my first free summer since the summer after my Freshman year of college; the list of things I would like to do is as long as it is delightful. Most of all, I'm sincerely loving the time I am able to spend with Martina in her study breaks, as she is taking the DAT and Physics here.

It is amazing to see how God has led! Martina has another year at Southern to finish up her degree in Biology; we plan to get married next summer before going back to school at Loma Linda University.

Exceedingly Abundantly Above ...

2011-05-24T06:18:00.000-07:00

As of May 20, 2011

We're engaged!

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

- Ephesians 3: 20-21

What's in a picture?

2011-04-16T15:53:00.001-07:00

I've had my SAU ID card all four years. I've left it at the café twice, and misplaced it in my room many times. As I walked in to my room just now, the lights on the door-lock flashed green and red (usually it just flashes green for a brief moment). I guess that means my card is really wearing out.

I'm not too surprised. It has ridden in my running shorts (see the muddy shorts in the background -- I just came back from a mountain -bike ride) through all my long runs on the biology trails. Speaking of the biology trails, they've been making "improvements" -- widening existing trails, closing the old steep / narrow trails, and blazing new trails through the woods. I've spent countless hours running on the old trails, and as much as I enjoyed my mountain-bike ride, it hurts to see the changes.

I've really loved my time here at Southern. I feel like reminiscing.

Freshman year:

GB and GChem were overwhelming. I treasured study times with my lab partners Kelsey and Martina. I got involved with the SAU garden -- which really meant learning from Luke Fisher about how to grow veggies in Tennessee. Barry introduced me to a wealth of good friends, and I was intentional about making friends in the Café. I turned down a lot of options for extra-curricular stuff, and tried hard to learn how to learn.

Sophomore year:

On to Ochem, Genetics, Cell, and Precalculus / Trigonometry. Luke Fisher left, and Andrew Fisher came: we worked together on the garden and developed an incredible friendship. I enjoyed many backpacking trips with the Ellers, and filled out my time as a GB TA. Spring semester was very tough for relational and philosophical reasons. Barry and I spent hours talking to each other from our bunks in our dorm room. I continued to struggle to master my inconsistent motivation to study. I knew I wanted to go to medical school, but it seemed like a very far-off dream, especially in light of a few B+'s and A-'s.

Junior year:

Doug Baasch and I tackled Biochem in the fall. We trained for and ran the Mystery Mtn. Marathon together, and to our own surprise -- came in 3rd and 4th overall. I also took Animal Physiology, worked feverishly on the SAU Garden (Andrew was gone as an SM), wrote a 10 page ethics paper for the Elie Wiesel Prize in Ethics, and worked as a GB TA. I went on to run the Pine Mtn. 40 mile trail run in 7 hrs 31 minutes, the same day that Doug Baasch played his senior cello recital. Second semester I took Human Anatomy and Ornithology.

Senior year:

Fall semester I took Parasitology, Ecology, and Vertebrate Natural History. I ran the Mystery Mtn. Marathon and Pine Mtn. 40 again (this time I shaved off 21 minutes chasing Jessica Marlier, who finished ahead of me!). After much prayer and thought, I asked Martina Houmann to start dating me. To this day, that was the 2nd best decision I've ever made ... the first being to follow Christ. The story of how God led us together is remarkable in its own right. I worked through my medical school applications after having taken the MCAT the previous summer. I'd scored high in several practice tests, and an MCAT score of 30 ensured that I would have to trust in God entirely for my success or failure in applying to medical school. This second semester, I've taken 19 hours of credit, and worked as a Human Anatomy TA. I learned only recently that I've been accepted to both LLU and Tufts University Medical schools: God gets the full credit! Of all the years here at Southern, my senior year was by far my favorite: thanks to God and MLH!

In just about 2 weeks, I will graduate from Southern. I'll miss it -- but maybe it's just in time, that ID card won't work forever!

Appendix:

As I hit the "Publish Post" button yesterday, I realized that my "summary" had really been a study in omissions. Here are some of the more egregious ones:

1. Mom and Dad have been an incredible support throughout college. Without their prayers, applesauce, granola, over-the-phone consults with dad on my scrapes and bangs, long talks with both about life and learning, I'm not sure I would have made it through!

2. I mentioned Barry as my roommate, but failed to recount what an amazing roommate he was. We existed like two mad howe hermits -- which in fact we were. Billy Snow was my roommate my junior year -- we had an incredible year... Billy taught me a lot about studying and keeping my things organized. Stephen Thorp has been a fantastic roommate this year: we've philosophized, danced to Bach cantatas, and shared many excellent meals. I'm so thankful for all of my excellent roommates.

3. This semester, I auditioned the Lalo Cello concerto for the SAU Concerto Competition, and lost.

4. I've genuinely grown to love Biology. My teachers are incredibly committed to helping us to understand and appreciate God's creation. Thanks Drs. Snyder, Norskov, Ekkens, Foster, Trimm, Thornton, Azevedo, and Spencer!

Thoughts

2011-02-09T09:06:00.000-08:00

Christian Theology II:

The application of Christ’s unconditional sacrifice is conditionally proportional to our unconditional trust in Him.

Philosophy:

Skeptics have stolen uncertainty (the lack of rational certitude) from its rightful owners: those dispossessed of unfaith.

Evolutionary Analysis:

...The resulting degree (or degrees) of uncertainty demands a methodological system upon which every scientist must make simplifying assumptions. This system is called a bias; bias is usually inextricably linked with our religious experience (or lack thereof), our worldview, and therefore inescapably, our picture of origins. In other words, we have come to the circular conclusion that inquiry into origins is necessarily carried out by application of a bias, which is itself formed by our concept of origins...

: )

2011-01-13T04:01:00.000-08:00

I'm thankful for some fascinating topics of thought for this week: Justification by Faith, Natural Selection, Aeschylus, Erikson's developmental stages, Deuteronomistic History, Bone structure, and Abductive reasoning.

Most of all, I'm thankful for Martina! God has blessed me beyond measure with an incredible girlfriend!

Mountains

2010-11-16T16:26:00.000-08:00

"Now therefore give me this mountain, whereof the LORD spake in that day; for thou heardest in that day how the Anakims were there, and that the cities were great and fenced: if so be the LORD will be with me, then I shall be able to drive them out, as the LORD said."

Caleb to Joshua on re-entry to the promised land. Joshua 14:12

Nutella running

2010-10-26T10:09:00.000-07:00

I would like to be like my brother (who is in Medical school, and goes barefoot running !). I highly recommend reading this blog.

The unfortunate truth however...

... is that i'm a dedicated comfort-lover.

This is a shout out to those of you who, like myself, aspire to hard-coreness -- but are hopeless Nutellaphiles. Try Vibram 5-fingers!

Bread & Break

2010-10-24T07:33:00.000-07:00

The bread turned out OK. I should have baked it a bit longer: the bottom half was a bit soggy. Also need to tweak my poolish schedule ...

Just got back from an incredible field trip to South Georgia and Florida with Vertebrate Natural History over Mid-Term Break. Will hopefully post more pictures later!

which is to be master?

2010-10-19T04:46:00.000-07:00

Taken from Through the Looking Glass -- Ch. 6 , Lewis Carroll

" ...and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents --'

`Certainly,' said Alice.

`And only one for birthday presents, you know. There's glory for you!'

`I don't know what you mean by "glory",' Alice said.

Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. `Of course you don't -- till I tell you. I meant "there's a nice knock-down argument for you!"'

`But "glory" doesn't mean "a nice knock-down argument",' Alice objected.

`When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, `it means just what I choose it to mean -- neither more nor less.'

`The question is,' said Alice, `whether you can make words mean so many different things.'

`The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, `which is to be master -- that's all.'

the icecream truck

2010-10-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

On Knowing

2010-10-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on knowing:

Microscope for freedom.

Telescope for people.

Death for life.

Tactical surrender for God.

God for joy.

Welcome to a Mac

2010-10-05T06:34:00.000-07:00

Sleeping Sickness

2010-09-30T18:42:00.000-07:00

Trypanosoma brucei : African Sleeping Sickness

Symptoms: Sore develops at the site of a fly bite -- heals after 1-2 weeks. Swollen lymph nodes -- neck, groin, legs. Winterbottom's sign (swollen cervical lymph node) is diagnostic. Intermittent fever, pain, weakness, cramps.

T. gambiense sp. : Chronic form -- central nervous system involvement, apathy, mental dullness, lack of coordination, tremors of hand/ tongue / trunk, changes in personality.

T. rhodesiense sp. : Acute form -- rapid weight loss, heart is affected, no extensive nervous disease (nervous system is invaded, but individual dies before manifestation of nervous system pathology), death occurs in months.

John Bunyan writes in Pilgrim's Progress about an "enchanted land" -- in which the pilgrims fight off extreme drowsiness on their way to the celestial city. I was struck (as I studied the above parasite) by the spiritual parallels. One of the most dangerous parasites -- one which can kill a person within months -- is one which literally makes them fall asleep.

I have found that fighting off spiritual stupor is a daily battle. I believe we're close to the promised land. Treatment for Trypanosoma brucei is very harsh -- and eukaryotic targets are difficult to treat differentially: what's hard on T. brucei is hard on us. The apostle Paul describes the treatment for spiritual sleeping sickness in Romans; it is so harsh it's lethal. Thankfully, God is more than able to recreate those He has redeemed into a newness of life that is fully centered in each moment.

"Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." Ephesians 5:14

2010-09-19T14:26:00.000-07:00

Here's a hodgepodge of pictures from the past week or so.

Gee Creek: Sabbath P.M. hike

Bird Banding at Whig meadows with Dave Voigt et al.

Reflections at Gee Creek

My lovely girlfriend!

Blue-ridge two-line Salamander: Biology trail

VNH!

Coming back from Indian Boundary Lake camping trip: L-R: me, martina, katie, josie.

modeling thought

2010-09-16T10:35:00.000-07:00

East and West are both wrong. Or perhaps... both right.

Dating : MLH !

2010-09-12T15:03:00.000-07:00

Martina agreed to start dating me this Sabbath morning. I'm a very fortunate man.

Praise God!

Goals:

1. Develop a strong friendship, centered on God.

2. Focus on outreach, not introspection.

3. Keep it simple and joyful.

The Slug

2010-09-07T16:38:00.000-07:00

The Slug, he sat, and watched,

wept dry to see

his life.

His life, was crushed, and botched

for life sets free

The Slug.

The bier, was still, and nigh,

swept wet, too green

this death.

This death, too fast, and high

The bier.

The grass, it grew, some how,

poked sky, so grey

for God.

For God, wrought -- he thought-- now

The grass.

God ran, to help, his friend,

wept wet, to see

The Slug.

The Slug, sat crushed, at end

God ran.

The Slug, and God, they met,

at bier, to see

this Joy.

This Joy, is ours, is set,

for death set free

I am.

Conasauga

2010-09-05T15:28:00.000-07:00

We just returned from our second field trip for Vertebrate Natural History. VNH is definitely my favorite class of the semester, and may become my favorite class of college. Today, we went snorkeling in the Conasauga river to look at fish. Last week, we canoed to Nickajack cave to watch (approx.) 80,000 bats swarm out to feed as the sun went down.

The class itself is incredible. I enjoy the group of friends in the class even more.

Synthesis

2010-09-02T17:47:00.000-07:00

Romans 2-3

Justified by Grace

Judged by Deeds

Laurel Falls

2010-08-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

My semester has started VERY well! I am especially enjoying Vertebrate Natural History, and working in the Garden.

Sabbath P.M. I went with a group of friends to Laurel Falls. Here are a few pictures!

report

2010-08-15T17:03:00.000-07:00

Islands Visited:
Raspberry, The Goslings, Eagle, Whaleboat, Little Chebeague, Cow, Jewel.

Crew:
John Howe (Tuesday-Sunday)
Jenny Penner (Tuesday - Wednesday)
Kelsey Belcourt, Julie Penner, Martina Houmann (Tuesday - Thursday)
Mom (Wednesday-Thursday)
David Gerrans (Friday-Sunday)

Photos:
Martina, Julie, and Jenny took all of the pictures from Tuesday-Thursday. I knew I was outclassed, so I only started taking pictures when they left... hence the pictures below are only Friday-Sunday.

Supper on Friday evening.

Breakfast. We'd just crawled out of bed...

"wing-on-wing"

Tucking into bed on the boat.

Sailing

2010-08-09T05:27:00.001-07:00

Tuesday 8/10/10 - Sunday 8/15/10

Mutoria

2010-08-03T08:19:00.000-07:00

Preface: I was supposed to be writing my personal statement for my medical school application when an irresistable idea popped into my head. here it is!

There is a world named Mutoria. It has blue skies and green plants, and its inhabitants are human. On it, a body of Christian believers looks for the soon return of the One who created and redeemed their race.

Many years ago, the Christian church on Mutoria had a disagreement about the meaning of equality. They would have said it was about the roles of Women and Men in the church, but in the end, it was really all about the concept of equality. God had created Eve and Adam in the beginning: Adam – the male, had fallen to the temptations of a serpent: and God had said something about Eve becoming the head and leader over him. Female and Male created He them. Everyone seemed to agree that Female and Male were equals, but then they would disagree about what that meant.

One day, in a particularly heated debate, an old mathematician named Euclidia stood up.

“Female and Male are not equal” she said. “Don’t you see the difference in form?”

A young Maleist stood up. “You’re effectively saying that men aren’t as good as women!”

A strongly built man in the audience looked down circumspectly as his wife, with a righteous firmness, stood up and said: “ Of course you’re just as good as us, but the bible says you’re not supposed to educate the children or nurture the sick or prepare healthy food—this is the spiritual bailiwick of Women because Man fell at the beginning.” Many in the audience nodded their heads appreciatively. This was the tradition of the church, and the clear interpretation of Scripture.

“But that effectively excludes us from any leadership in the church!” said a middle-aged man. “What I want to know, is why we cannot be ordained as Eldresses – they are the true spiritual leaders of the church, and I feel that Men have been oppressed by domineering Women.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably. There was no biblical precedent for a man to be ordained as an Eldress. But God had created Female and Male as equals, hadn’t he? So was it really fair to exclude men from the leadership positions of authority in the church?

Suddenly, an elderly lady stood up and began to speak. “The problem is with our simplistic understanding of equality. Women and Men were created both equal and unequal. We are equal in the sense that God loves us impartially: therefore we are all accorded the same right to loving treatment. And yet, Euclidia is right to state that Women are physiologically different from Men, and therefore we are not mathematically equivalent. I was a biochemist, and I know that function follows form. Two proteins may be of equal importance without having equal function. Doesn’t it make sense that God would mirror this law of physics and chemistry in the macrocosm of human function and interaction? In conclusion, I propose that the church create a special, spiritually ordained role for the men: they would be called ‘Elders’…”

“Yeah, well, what would you expect the ‘Elders’ to do? ‘Serve people?’ ” said a young Maleist with a sneer.

“It would take a great deal of thought and prayer, but I think that would be a good place to start!” replied the elderly lady.

Although some of the Maleists objected that it would be impossible to distinguish between the equality of function as a man or woman and the equality of identity as a person, the body of believers decided to follow the advice the elderly lady. Through much prayer, they eventually were able to establish roles ideally suited to the unique capacities of both Men and Women in their distinct spiritual realms of authority. It worked, because they loved Christ more than they loved themselves.

* Similarities or disparities between Mutoria and Earth may be purely coincidental. Draw conclusions at your own risk.

reflection

2010-07-30T16:19:00.000-07:00

Harpswell, ME. Friday Evening.

I went for a sail on our Laser ( 4.07 meters LOA) with Titus and Teegan (sp.?) this afternoon. They are a brother and sister aged 11 and 8 respectively. We explored coves and islands along the coast, talked about wind and dolphins, and wondered why sailors call food "grub."

When we got back to the dock, T&T took the canoe back to the shore while I tied up the boat. I enjoyed the swim.

Now the setting sun lightens all the greens and blues in natures resolution, like an organist pulling out all the stops at the end of a fugue. There are some moments which are so beautiful that the shivers run from my back straight into my heart.

MCAT

2010-07-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

July 30 !

whaleboat

2010-07-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

Total trip distance (estimated) : 35 nautical miles = 40.28 miles
Craft: 22-ft S2. (Sailboat).
Sabbath morning - Sunday afternoon.

I'm sunburnt salty, tired happy.

The land lilts tonight.

06/20/10

2010-06-20T16:59:00.000-07:00

They say pictures are worth a thousand words. I'm not convinced, but I do like pictures.

Our "Laser" : a 16-ft sailing dinghy. Had a fantastic sail on Sabbath... I think I capsized 7 times.

Run in the woods today was fun, except for the part where I inadvertently hit a branch with my leg. Impact abrasion that followed : plenty of bang for the buck.

The Cabin where I am studying for the MCAT. 10-15 min. study blocks interspersed with 2-3 minute breaks. On friday, a study block was interrupted in an attempt to match a persistent birdsong with its elusive author. No success.

Fog off the water after a wonderful storm this P.M.

Around Home

2010-06-18T10:10:00.000-07:00

first two pictures: house
last three pictures: driveway

News Flash

2010-06-11T16:27:00.000-07:00

Global Crisis Precipitated by Picture of Homemade Bread:

A blogger has unwittingly caused a crisis of immense proportions by posting pictures of his mother's homemade bread on his blog.

Problems started when a certain P.B. N'Jamer happened upon the posting as he was perusing all blogs containing the hit-word "and." "A funny thing happened when I saw that picture," says N'Jamer -- "I suddenly became extremely -- ferociously --hungry!" N'Jamer continued to say "It was weird, because I'm like, totally not an obsessive personality at all!"

N'Jamer immediately signed in to his online weight-watchers support group to see if he could get any help. The only other person in the chatroom was a UN official who agreed to correspond with us on condition of anonymity. N'Jamer related the incident in a flood of emoticons to his new-found friend (whom we will call The Patriot), who asked for a link to the blog out of curiosity. The Patriot (who was in the middle of drafting a notice of impending belligerence to North Korea should they continue in their belligerence) was so struck with the symmetry and symbolism of the bread that his missive suddenly became irrevocably encrusted in breaded metaphors and panache.

The Patriot traveled to the nearest healthfood store to buy some 19-grain bread, and munched happily as he pounded out the last syllables of notice on his iPhone.

" ... and from these burning sanctions (which we can deliver in less time than it takes to bake a loaf of fine european artisan bread) your economy will suddenly shrink like fluff of white bread in the hand of a powerful european artisan baker. From this bad batch there would be no rising. Sincerely, ____________. P.S. Check this out."

When Hyung Hoo Pah (The Minister of Defense) in North Korea received this notice, he immediately rearranged the entire defense budget. Hoo Pah declined to comment when we attempted to contact him for the details, but it is now clear from satellite images that 97.6% of North Korea's nuclear budget has been rerouted to the making of artisan breads.

"This reflects a dangerous shift in the mentality of them North Koreans" warns defense secretary Ram Punckle of the United States. "We think this could be the ushering in of an era of bread war" says Punckle. Massive rearrangements in defense strategy appear to be happening on an international level. "It's called a tumble-loaf effect" says senior analyst Bertrand ('Bump') ThCurve of International Bread Management (IBM) Inc. "We saw it happen in 124 B.C. when Mithridates II succeeds Artabanus as king of Parthia... I mean, this stuff is happening all the time!"

It is a crisis of almost unconceivable magnitude, but for the man it started with, things have been looking up. P.B. N'Jamer's wife reports that he has been talking a blue streak about "some eastern oriental concept of perfection ... something Shangri --- Shangri --- Shangri-loaf I think. Anyways, I've never seen him so blissfully happy!"

-- Reported by Hohn E. Jelliott -- Harpswell, ME.

Bread

2010-06-10T17:38:00.000-07:00

Mom and Dad have always (within my memory) made incredibly good bread. However, they have recently taken the process to an entirely new level. I love it!

(Art)(Science) = Toothsome

wondering

2010-06-08T10:52:00.000-07:00

Sunday, June 6, 2010 -- Barry and Christy were married. A sacred and momentus and happy thing.

I'm trying to understand this. There are two unknowns in my mind: both the shape and the relevance of the event. If I stop to consider the shape of an event, my solution will outmoded by time. The only way to stop something long enough to understand its shape would be to pour on some mental liquid nitrogen: but in time it would crumble. For now, all events seem like unto Heisenberg's whizzing electron. Undeniably real, provokingly unknowable.

If you don't understand this ... then maybe you do.

Perhaps this struggle is what makes a relationship with God meaningful; because meaning is knowing...

God knows
we know
He knows

No

2010-05-26T05:07:00.000-07:00

You've probably seen the black and white photos of the Auschwitz living skeletons. They are stacked on wooden bunks, staring stiffly up at the camera. Their faces are monuments chiseled by pain from the rock of our collective human experience. The holocaust stands at the epicenter of an eruption of depravity which had begun to assume different names across the world by 1950. The Allied forces in WWII were not angels, but they represented the muscular determination of the west to say "no" to demons.

It is a sad story with a good ending; the kind that my childhood history books liked to emphasize -- and the kind I liked to read. It fit well with my spiritual world-view, and the perspective I inherited from growing up in a beautiful home marred only by the occasional tragedy, like the death of a family pet. Like the picture of Auschwitz, the time my grandparents knew was black and white: good versus bad, and the good won.

But I was alive in the spring of 1994. We have color photos to illustrate what whole-scale slaughter on the order of more than 850,000 people looked like in Rwanda. Who will cry the loss that was permitted by international silence? Who will stand to judge when we all sat to watch?

I fear this time. We have consigned our grandparent's courage of conviction to the dusty attic, along with their old black and white cameras. Like prisoners at Auschwitz, our rigor mortis has set in -- just in time for us to realize it. Before we die.

Before we die, however, let us consider that our grandparents saw the world in color. Their actions were not the reflexive out-workings of a primitive ethic. Courage is optional by definition, and all of the heroes of our faith and country acted with a more nuanced understanding of their moral and physical fragility than we comfort loving post-modernists would like to admit. Faith? Yes, I think so. A living faith would spur us, as it did them, with the strength to say no.

No to survival through depravity. No to sitting when it takes standing. No when everyone else is silent. No to the Holocaust, Gulags, and Khmer Rouge.

No Rwanda. No.

Over and Out

2010-05-02T15:28:00.000-07:00

I capped off my Junior year with Joel, Ivan, Stephen, and some fine grape juice.

More good times on the horizon:

May 3 - May 20 : I'm taking a 3-hour biology elective called "Smoky Mtn. Flora"

May 20 - July 30: I'm preparing for and taking the MCAT.

July 30 - August 26: Spending as much time outside as possible!

Deadly Normal

2010-04-24T18:10:00.001-07:00

Well, he hopped out of bed,

"bad dream, hurt the head"

sat there with his bread,

and milk on his spoon.

Said "bye, off to work"

Said "clock'll never shirk"

Said "boss on the lurk"

and stuff on the desk.

Busy day, busy day,

No lunch, i'm so tired way,

All so tired, so to say,

and well... he's just tired.

Felt so cold out of bed,

Some ache, hurt the head,

"Just normal" when he said,

and stopped... he's gone. dead.

P.S. To answer doubts: I'm feeling extraordinary! I hope you don't interpolate from poems to poets like I do.

here comes the hat

2010-04-08T11:59:00.000-07:00

The next 2.5 weeks will be interesting.

hmmmmmm.

here goes!

p.s. after a soothing cup of tea, I managed to tame myself down to the point where I could exchange the above picture for the one previously posted. Perhaps this equilibration itself is the most descriptive of my "Finals experience."

ex nihilo qualia

2010-03-31T17:11:00.000-07:00

the light is pouring
and sun-drops splash
blood blue my morning
gold to grey ash

now dark is winging
and heart is cold
but God is singing
grey ash to gold

more almost circles

2010-03-28T05:25:00.000-07:00

time

joy -> pain

faith and works

deontology -> teleology
regeneration (plants, animals, etc.)
love

the almost circle

2010-03-23T18:21:00.000-07:00

If I were ye,
an ye were me,
and that made three,
or four?

Why, we'd sip tea,
an me-lo-dy,
o'er that made three,
and four!

Four or three, maid?
that and me were!
ye an ye were...
1 If.

note: Christy told me she thought this might have been a poetic account of a romantic conversation. It was intended to be a conversation between an old man and a little girl.

eternity's ellipsis

2010-03-21T14:31:00.000-07:00

I saw a ripple in the clouds,
running across the rye
Like a pebble in a lake,
skating circles in the sky.

I found a rainbow in a tear,
dropping silent on earth
Like to screaming in the wind,
tossing around on the berth.

I heard a whisper in the mist,
dancing around the night
Like an echo in the past,
finding dead things in the bright.

I knew the master by His plan,
straining heart with a seive
Like to leaping off a cliff,

seizing meaning I will live.

photo source: here

SAU 1637

2010-03-18T07:59:00.000-07:00

Excerpts from the discovered journal of a student on this campus: A.D. 1637

Anatomy Class: First day
The teacher is a wild-haired, disheveled individual with a keen craze for cutting into things. He wears a full suit of homespun fullcloth and shrouds himself in a durable black apron -- he wears a cracked monocle. "Ladies and Gents" quoth he, "today let it be known among ye, that in this barrel of Frankus magnum [ here a cunning smile ] I have hid aught which did give up the ghost in the yesteryear. It hath been preserved in the juice of the asean lime and tartearic humor...."
My classmate shivers, and wraps himself more tightly in the folds of his voluminous robe.

The Cafeteria: Pasta day
The astounding Madame Lindacicus knows all of us by name! Albeit, I had to correct her when she tried to remember my name: She said "Wintrefort Alberthain Heresifont II of Aberlathe" when she should have said "Wintrefort Alberthain Heresifont II of Entermoot" ... Alas, but she tryeth. The damsel behind the counter addressed me with the usual abrupt query: "Would'st thou prefer to dine in this large open assembly or in the privacy of thine own quarters?" They don't mince words here, do they? When I replied " Verily, I would prefer to dine in this large open assemblage because my room rotteth wet from chill and dampness" -- she showed her teeth! What a ghastly response to my little joke.

Dinnertime edification:
I selected the boiled wheat strips, the green spriggots, and the new Allium sativum bread for my dining pleasure, and for the general reinforcement of my corpus. Sat at a table with a gaggle of nursing students (females all). They were pontificating about the usual: "Well this day in practicum, I got to sear my first patient with the red-hot iron" ... and "My nursing supervisor said that raw potatoes and whiskey are the best remedy for an upset stomach" and "all the drugs / potions they're using nowadays... I wish they'd go back to natural remedies: blackened wood, juice of lemon, pumsquatch jelly, horseraddish hyssop beer..." Must be the good, conservative type.

Taskus oddendums:
I traversed the field between Talge Hall of Accomodation for Males and the University Feed warehouse. While there, I procured a crate of surfactant cleaning compound, and a barrel of Topus ramenus, which recently arrived on a ship from Java. Payed in full with 2 chunks of silver. When I exited the premises, there was a large scrum occuring across the field by Thatcher Hall of Accomodation for Females. I left my crate and barrel in the possesion of the storemaster, and, gathering up my robe, sprinted to the site. The occasion of this unruly behavior appears to have been a female (should have known). Two young squires had fallen into a disagreement over which one was more favored by said specimen, and things had come to blows. They were at it hammer and tongs before the proprietary protectorate representative of safety on this fair campus arrived, and separated them in due time with diligent and creative use of a large rock. . . . .

Garden and Loss

2010-03-17T17:43:00.000-07:00

Check out the Garden Blog some time. Good things are happening there -- see pictures above.

In other news, our hockey team lost tonight to "Bruiser Brothers" -- which means we're finished for the season. Ah well. My eye probably needs some rest / recuperation time anyways.

Sn2 -- The Maine squad

2010-03-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

savage days

2010-03-11T17:57:00.000-08:00

Eat fast. Study deep. Sleep some. Curse alarm. Love well. Dream hard.

Cry for fragility.

Laugh over weakness.

Run with God.

cogitatum

2010-03-10T18:30:00.000-08:00

s b 2 h

2010-03-08T07:33:00.000-08:00

diem ex diei

2010-02-26T20:02:00.000-08:00

gone with me
from tired day
and dawn

free to find
life and death
and fear

knows He is
before and after
the dark

the light
and God has
gone with me

Heaven and Hell

2010-02-24T13:36:00.000-08:00

Hell ----------------------------------------------------- Heaven

zoom zap -------------------------------------------- new morn
cracked cage --------------------------------------- whole hymn
damp dead ----------------------------------------------- elf hill
bad bat ---------------------------------------------- honey lorn
cackle cadge ---------------------------------------- hey ho
vapid torpor ------------------------------------------ sun helm
rattle kettle ------------------------------------------- full wine
grab rake -------------------------------------------sum journey
tackle gag -------------------------------------------- here moss
chalk vat -------------------------------------------- warm smile
toad bag -------------------------------------------- solemn horn
rat cake ------------------------------------------------ no woe
dank crag ----------------------------------------------- well life
zig zag ----------------------------------------------- color mine

buzz zip ----------------------------------------------- cool wind
kill adze ------------------------------------------------ we feast
rave rot ----------------------------------------------- run swift

rack raze ---------------------------------------------- joy here

Note:
Some of the meaning is contained within the sound. Try reading it out loud.

More Field Notes

2010-02-22T17:32:00.000-08:00

Cafeteria

This is a treatise on the variants of Student sp. to be found in the Cafeteria.

Talkers
These students have incredible lingual endurance. Articulation, pontification, and exhortation seep out in one magnificent solo strain. Silence is anathema. A relative of this genus is the Talker flirtacianous which couple ceaseless verbal badinage to a wholehearted preoccupation with the opposite sex. The natural counterpart of the Talkers are the Silents, which act in general to balance each other out.

To Go-ers : two types
A) The Shys
There is no two ways about it: this group has decided for once and for all that they've had enough of those desperate "quick -- look for friends -- feeling despondant and uncomfortable while holding my tray" moments. It will be "To Go" until death do us (student and styrofoam) part.
B) The Hermits
Video games or Studies or Something. Whatever it is, it's definitely worth the grim promenade past the more social friends. It is Simeon Stylites reincarnate looking down from his eyrie. A thoughtful stroke of the beard, a blazing wift of righteous ruthlessness, and they're gone.

Solos
It's a book, or those tater-tots, or the empty chair across the table: there's something that holds a dedicated ensemble of students to this lonely post. Solos are a somewhat frequent sighting at breakfast. They may be a phylogenetic relation to the To Go-ers, as there are some common threads of bashfulality, maverickishness, and sleepy drear.

Cliques: two types
A) Small: usually 2-3 people. Everyone at this table has known each other since day 2, hour 7. Efforts to break the ice typically fail: things are kept well below thawing temperature by constant reference to times and places and things and people and animals and situations and grand-step-neighbor-inlaws parties where you were NOT THERE.
B) Big: tables line up and everyone sorta knows everyone. There is an immense flurry of scandalously superficial conversation which everyone is half listening to. About 10/11ths of the way through the meal, someone suddenly starts up a serious conversation. Great, just the time you have to leave.

Intros
These students are the ones who break out of some of the patterns above and have the courage to sit down with someone new. On most occasions, these students follow a fairly predictable line of conversation: name --> studying? --> live? --> Ok, gotta go, see you later! Occasionaly, however, things can get exciting: once I had a conversation with a girl about the relationship between Bolivian potato farmers and Washington Irving -- which incidentally isn't as tenuous a connection as you might suspect.

Weirdfoods
This group has outstanding tolerance for culinary atrocities. The scarecrow creations that appear on their trays are enough to welter the internal orders of the most hardened campaigner. I suspect that they are operating under a secret oath: something about the hegelian dialectic of strawberries and mushrooms.

Thanks!

2010-02-16T20:02:00.000-08:00

Kristin:

The cookie and bar were terrific.

They really cheered me up whilst I was entertaining some dour thoughts about the brachial plexus. Little things mean so much. So do big things.

Thank you!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christy & Allana:

The pasta was fabulous.

I note with regret that the word "fabulous" immediately conjures up a sugar-coated sort of person saying "thank-you" with a damp smile. No, no, no. It was fabulous.

Thanks for sharing. And I WILL get your tupperware back to you!

Thanks!

John

My Hum Dup

2010-02-11T17:48:00.000-08:00

tshumm tsc uh tshuun tsc uh tshumm tsc uh --> tsah-eah ...

I like to hum. I've liked it ever since I was little.

It's something I do when I'm being.

I just tried to make a visible hum for you. I know. It doesn't work. But just imagine:

tshumm tsc uh tshuun tsc uh tshumm tsc uh --> hummm ...

be-dah h h h h

Field Notes

2010-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

Vespers.

Plumage:
Males appear to molt their 6-day plumage at around 7:49 P.M. Some bathe hastily, and then don new plumage at extraordinary speed. This plumage varies considerably between individuals, but a brightly colored piece of cloth is invariably observed dangling from the neck region. Rates of plumage shedding, bathing, and subsequent atireation vary considerably between individuals. Most individuals appear to fuss with the vertical piece of plumage aforementioned and with hair in front of a piece of glass before exiting the premises of Talge Hall. The exact reasons for this ritual shedding and re-accoutretization process are as of yet undetermined, but some research suggests that the males are competing for female selection. Two-piece plumage sets were noted for ubiquity, as were bright colors, especially (but not limited to) pink.

Females go through a similar molting and regrowth process, although it appears to take some of them slightly longer. Friday-night accoutrements are slightly harder to typify for females. I observe that females tend to wear less than males, and hypothesize that they must have a higher cold tolerance. Of special note in the female population was the ubiquitous use of footwear with long and pointed spikes. I hypothesize that the females may use these to jab predators in the case of attack, as I can see no other functional use.

Pheremones:
The Natriantic Olafont System Enceterron (N.O.S.E.) indicated extremely high levels of Pheremones in the vespers assembly. Females were especially prone to extreme levels of pheremones, but my N.O.S.E. indicator showed that some males were also exuding pathological levels of odorant. I presume that the students use this as a signal that they are ready to select a mate: and predict a positive correlation between N.O.S.E. indications and the mate selection instinct.

The Promenade:
Males and females generally seem to walk in ordered pairs on their way to and from the vespers assembly. This walk assumes an almost ritualistically slow pace. Individuals who have paired will sometimes hold hands, and murmer in low tones. If the weather is temperate, these pairs often pause at the entrance to either dormitory. I hypothesize that they may be making calculations as to the proximity of the lunar constellation, as their gaze is frequently directed in that way.

The Huddle:
Males and Females sit quite close together. I hypothesize that the students have arranged a Male-Female Male-Female seating conformation in order to save space in the sanctuary. An alternative hypothesis which bears consideration is that the males are cold. (See plumage thermogenesis observation).

Final Observations:
Much complexity of behavior is observed in the Student species. Some males and females are strongly independent. While I have made some useful generalizations, there are many things which cannot be accounted for: the twinkle in an eye, a blush --- even the lifting of an eyebrow.

Students sp. is at some times coquettish, spirited, energetic, vain, arrogant, foolish, idealistic, fun-loving ... and at all times, just a little silly.

Comfort and Truth

2010-02-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

I have a question for you.

Is comfort your God?

If not...

How do you then live?

ketchup

2010-02-04T05:14:00.000-08:00

Time to Ketchup

On Life

photo credit: here

Wintarmanoth

2010-01-31T17:54:00.000-08:00

Now the month is closing.

I've written a lot of blogs this month -- this one will be #12. The rennaissance and reformation were conceived in the friction of darkness... you may read between the blogs.

My friends have brought so much to my life this month. Backpacking, outreach, awesome conversations, fun adventures. I only wish that I could be more like them: christ-like.

Studies are going ok -- no, not great. I've struggled to hold on to discipline and motivation: after a full year and a half of studying, focus sometimes drains away: I'm left feeling floating, knowing I'm sinking.

I've wrestled with God, failed Him, run with Him, gardened with Him, pled with Him, been angry at Him, told Him I loved Him, left Him, surrendered to Him. I wish I had done more with Him.

I think the Great Controversy has reached a crescendo on this campus. I've never been so hopeful and doubtful at once of the chances for an incredible revival on our campus. The people who read this blog will necessarily fall into two categories:
A) Off campus
B) On campus

Group A): Please pray for this campus. With everything you've got. There is explosive potential here -- with God's help, we could turn this world on its head.
Group B): We must work together. I get discouraged and insular by myself. Let's pray, talk, and work as a team. I'm tired of theory and postulation: let's make our own Acts story with God.

now there's one.

2010-01-28T17:49:00.000-08:00

In the Summer of 2006, there were three. Paul had finished 1 year of Law school -- he was 22. Barry had finished 1 year of College -- he was 19. I had finished high school -- I was 16. Early that summer, we were all single. There were three.

Then Petra happened. The Houmanns stopped by on their way up to PEI, and Paul was irretrievably swept into the realm of twoness. I left for Peru that summer, wondering if Barry would start dating, and when Paul was going to propose to Petra. Unbeknownst to me (I was one of the last people to find out) Paul had made a preemptive strike -- being the good general that he always was and is -- and had already done the job.

I came back from Peru about 3 weeks earlier than scheduled to attend Paul and Petra's wedding. It was hard to adjust to Paul's sudden departure from the bachelor bloc. Thankfully, despite Barry's metoric rise to power at Southern, he had escaped the twodom paradox. I roomed with Barry for my first two years at Southern.

Barry graduated in Spring of '09 -- arguably one of the most eligible bachelors on the campus. Both of us had had some tough experiences with girls over the past semester, and we emerged into the summer tired, lonely, and somewhat bitterly free. Our summer wandered away, until the moment when Barry and I had an incredible day sailing our 22-ft boat from Whaleboat island back to its harbor in Quahog Bay. It was us -- we'd shared so much over the past two years -- rough bachelors both we were. There were two.

Interestingly enough, Barry wrote a blog soon thereafter. I'm not exactly sure what the blog meant, but it meant something, because Barry began officially dating Christy Kurtz before flying off to Kyrgyzstan. Like most things in his life, Barry found a good thing, and pursued it with considerable intensity. Yep. Intensity. I'm very happy to say that Barry and Christy are now engaged.

Now there's one. I'm alone.

I think Barry and Christy felt sorry for me over Christmas break: they tried to encourage me by telling me that someday I would find a virtuous wife. I really appreciated it... I might have even made some evasive commentary like "Well, I hope so..." or "Well, maybe"...

But I'm still in the grumpy badger mode. I've been stumping about my room in my PJs beating my chest while singing Bill Grogans Goat. I eat my granola in great gulps of cheer, spoon clenched tight in flourished fist. I'm obsessed with the idea of hiking across asia after medical school. Or sailing around the world. Sometimes I feel free, savage, focused. But who am I kidding?

God knows. And I know.

But now there's someone special in my life: God. That's all I'll ever need.

I'm taken. Now, there's one.

Paddy's Sensenon

2010-01-26T17:43:00.000-08:00

My old socks are tremendous tired, all heapled up in a heaplety-hop! Ah, their day is done, stiffly satisfied, they'll sleep 'til they find the washing machine.

Froofrah, Paddy-wurple! In ceartain aeirs the byrejims sing!

Courage, Courage.

Wait, there's still an odd.

still...

courage.

The Weekender

2010-01-24T08:09:00.001-08:00

note

2010-01-22T06:28:00.000-08:00

Dead gods die hard.

To Mom & Dad

2010-01-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thanks so much for the applesauce and fruit.

Love,

John

Hamster's Bleating

2010-01-19T18:28:00.000-08:00

in scrib'ed space
the hamster spun
his wheel round

his foolish race
is never won
to reasons sound

And our haste
this lifelong run
to haggard hound

an empty space
until we're spun
into senility's round?

my hope's placed
on finding One
who being crowned

in love,
will break,
this wheel.

2010-01-18T16:34:00.000-08:00

tribute to a friend

2010-01-16T16:10:00.000-08:00

As per an email from Dr. Gordon Beitz: Dr. Rick Seidel is dead.

It is hateful to have to make the transition from saying: "I know Dr. Seidel" to "I knew Dr. Seidel."

I am one of the three General Biology TA's in his 3:30 Monday Lab. I was.

I was impressed by the organization and energy he brought to our department. He was someone I enjoyed working with: intelligent, professional, humble. Fun.

This time, death cut close. My heart is achy. We are so fragile.

And to retreat from eternity? Impossible.

I'm going to surrender to God right now. Will you join me?

wooden spoon

2010-01-12T19:23:00.000-08:00

...and a

wooden

spoon,

always

nice.

The Sky Mall

2010-01-09T18:02:00.000-08:00

Ivan Marsh, Me Howe, Luther Whiting, Stephen Thorp, Joel Kurtz

We had an Awesome fire the whole time: there was tons of good wood around.

Icy road! Some exciting moments. Good driver Luther.

Ivan's Brilliant idea! We got a nice loaf from the VM and warmed it over the fire. Yum.

Luther's intrepid Camry (The "Boeing 7.47"). Notice Stephen's pack strapped on top.

Christmas Break

2010-01-04T05:31:00.001-08:00

GYC

2010-01-03T07:59:00.003-08:00

GYC was a blessing this year. I was condemned, convicted, and encouraged.

Blessing to note: I'm sitting in the Cleveland airport on a lay-over on my way home. In the plane ride on the way here, I sat with a guy who is going to West-Point Military Academy on a full scholarship. We had a wonderful discussion about what we believed. He is an "Independent Baptist", I a "Seventh-Day Adventist". We enjoyed a lively discussion about Faith and Works.

And now we're boarding the plane.

Cheers!

glad patch

2009-12-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

endurance is the ability to draw delight from outside of self.

it is a gift from God.

it is a heart-smile.

2009-12-12T06:26:00.000-08:00

My behavior changes around this time of the semester.

Alterations:
1. I wear a hat a lot. Even, and especially, in my room.
2. I like studying on the floor best.
3. Study physiology becomes eccentric: I usually like to kneel or sit in such a way that the top of my forhead nearly touches my notes, arms circling roundabout in a self-hug. This is the preferred posture for remembering biochemical pathways!
4. I spend more time staring at inanimate objects, like the trail-mix on my desk, or my pencil, or the light-switch.
5. I alternate between feelings of savage cheer and solemn haste.
6. I appreciate music more.

I wonder if my behavior is different because I know Jesus is returning soon? Oh Lord, give me the same sense of urgency and reality.

psyche

2009-12-10T09:04:00.000-08:00

ha! - awwwww

2009-12-10T08:46:00.000-08:00

On my way to the cafe for breakfast I saw a paper that said:

Visit:

tinyurl.com/MysteryDuck

I was thrilled. Maybe, maybe the campus was finally catching on...

I visited the site only to be dissapointed by the face of a duck I didn't recognize.

not the numbers

2009-12-08T04:23:00.000-08:00

Jonathan posted a blog recently that referenced a BBC article which argued that "Global Warming" was un-related to man made emissions. Indeed, that we were on our way to a set of cooler weather for the next 30ish years.

I just saw this article on BBC, which argues that Global Warming is a very real phenomenon.

Comments:
1) I appreciate BBC's bipartisan approach.
2) According to the numbers, it appears that our world is cooling and warming at the same time! In other words, these arguments don't start with facts, they start with a bull-headed hypothesis which will trample discordant data in order to save itself. It's not about the numbers anymore.

Proayemer.

2009-11-22T08:57:00.000-08:00

God,

scather my life,

break my psythe,

flinder my self,

exscind my ambitude,

and hold me free.

Dum spiro spero

2009-11-17T16:58:00.000-08:00

Morning, and stars
lay down their
aery chourse to
the universe.

There, see, night
lifts up his
fenestral latch to
the light.

Doubt, so thick,
dissolves with its
cheerless light to
the life.

Hope, heare again,
take up my
breath, til I hold
the morning.

the edge

2009-11-16T18:47:00.001-08:00

the problem with enjoying the sunshine is that you miss it when it gets dark.

but it is beautiful between day and night.

Delights of life

2009-11-11T18:21:00.000-08:00

Touch of Sunlight on the edges of the day.
Hot Tea in a lonely dorm room.
Shivers when listening to music.
Early morning smiles.
Eyes of a friend.
Grass on bare feet.
Spruce air breath'ed deep.

They are windows into heaven.

Musicians

2009-11-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

As I was practicing in the music building this morning, it struck me that it is possible to crudely categorize some of the practicing I hear in the basement.

Plonkers
These pianists play a thudding/wandering style of music. They should be commended for their musical focus: they seem to meditate on a single refrain for hours. Years.

Orchestrals
The virtuous orchestra members who practice their parts. I have only praise for this group: there are a lot of things that would be more fun to practice.

Howlers
The singers who never seem to progress beyond the warm-up phase. "AAaaahh-ah-ah-ah-ah-a-e-ooooooooo, aeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooeeeeeeeeeea" Shriek Shriek.

Afterglos
Usually a small congregation of talents-- destined for Vespers, or Afterglow, or Not. They have to practice that little solo refrain... ("One more time, One more time: Aaaaaaaaa")

Maestros
These people dazzle me with scherzic glissandos, lush vibrato, and the extraordinary gift of never-ever sounding bad. Sometimes I feel like rushing off to call Deutsche Grammophon.

Schizomusiacs
Bach, Bloch, Brahms, Bartok. Oh, blast, what about Mozart? All in 5 minutes.

Players
"Never stop. Not until you've played the last note. "

Bar-enders
"Never finish a phrase. Micromanaging is key."

... enough for now.

how not what

2009-11-08T07:33:00.000-08:00

"... You learn that what matters is how you get there, not what you accomplish."

-- Yvon Chouinard

John Quincy Adams

2009-11-08T05:30:00.001-08:00

John Quincy Adams.

“If slavery be the destined sword of the hand of the destroying angel which is to sever the ties of this Union, the same sword will cut in sunder the bonds of slavery itself. A dissolution of the Union for the cause of slavery would be followed by a servile war in the slave-holding States, combined with a war between the two severed portions of the Union. It seems to me that its result might be the extirpation of slavery from this whole continent; and, calamitous and desolating as this course of events in its progress must be, so glorious would be its final issue, that, as God shall judge me, I dare not say that it is not to be desired.”

Written four decades before the Civil War, in Adams' diary. Source:http://haysvillelibrary.wordpress.com/2009/01/17/john-quincy-adams-on-the-civil-war/

Born 1767
Harvard College, trained as a lawyer.
Minister to the Netherlands at 26.
Elected to U.S. Senate at 35.
Minister to Russia at 41.
Secretary of State under Monroe: engineered incredible diplomatic triumphs. Authored the Monroe doctrine.
Elected President of the United States at 58. Is a terrible (principled) politician, and is soundly thrashed by Andrew Jackson in the subsequent election of 1828.
Elected to the House by the Plymouth (MA) district at 63. He served in this capacity for the remainder of his life (til age 81)
In the House, Adams fought ceaselessly against the "Gag rule" -- achieving its repeal after 8 years, and argued pro bono before the supreme court on behalf of the spanish slaves in the Amistad case -- he won too.

Adams knew both the founding fathers and Abraham Lincoln. Adams is the only president to serve in the House after his presidency. We owe a lot to Mr. Adams.

Facts Source: http://www.whitehouse.gov/about/presidents/johnquincyadams

toothpasteophiles

2009-11-05T05:16:00.000-08:00

My tube of toothpaste has been running on empty. I can squeeze just enough out to brush my teeth with. Every time, 2-3 times a day, for the past 14 days.

About a week ago, I noticed that my tube seemed to inflate a little bit between uses. Now it inflates to a degree that would be difficult to miss. And I'm still getting just enough toothpaste out...

Maybe there are some paste-generating bacteria in there... that would explain the gas.

I hope so.

3-iDea

2009-10-30T11:54:00.000-07:00

Protein folding patterns can be described by two rotational angles of the secondary structure: Φ (phi) and ψ (psi). There are eight theoretically allowed rotational angles for each of the two bonding angles, but only a few of these rotational angles will be allowed because of steric hindrance (stuff getting in the way). Hence, we have a Ramachandran plot of ψ v. Φ. The plot you see above has been rendered in 3D with % incidence forming the texture.

It's uncanny how you can take numbers from an extremely small system and create a 3D graph that looks a lot like a topo map. If our ideas were like bonding angles, I wonder if there isn't a comprehensive dimensional representation out there?

There are a couple of levels of potential.
1. Does geography influence the way we think? Does the natural landscape code for truth?
2. What if contradictory ideas (paradoxes) were really just helping to establish cognitive texture: just like "impermissible" bonding angles are still necessary to form the plot diagram...
3. Trying to establish the "truth" through systematic logic would take about as long or longer as taking a 100 residue protein (a pretty small protein) -- each with 10 conformational possibilities, and testing each conformational combination once every 1.0 × 10^-13seconds: it would take 1.0 × 10⁷⁷years. (See Levinthal's Paradox). Proteins like this fold in less than 5 seconds under physiologic conditions: therefore the enzymes and chaperones mediating this process must have some shortcuts. In order to arrive at a semblance of truth, we might have to accept some shortcuts through faith.

hmmmmm.

Before we leave...

2009-10-26T16:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Family,

I love you.

I want to say it.

Mean it.

Mom

2009-10-19T18:55:00.001-07:00

Mom is like the sunlight: true, clear, warm-bright. Mom is like a wind after listless sails, and a clear drink on dusty days.

Mom used to put me to bed every night. She would always say: "I love you hundreds of bushies" ... which being translated, means an extremely large quantity.

I remember waking up with so much energy that I had to run, jump, or wrestle. It was a joy to know that Mom fully approved of all of these exercises, especially outside. It was freedom, it was happiness. I'm sure it wasn't easy to let us go off on our crazy adventures: Mom did it anyways.

Mom makes the best bread I've ever had. The three of us grew up on simple, delicious, wholesome food that I hope to eat for the rest of my life. I was happy to find an ally in Mom when at around 4 or 5 years old I developed a liking for a supper of fruit and bread. This was a "fruitish" supper. And it's still my favorite.

Mom is incredibly adventurous. She showed me how to travel: how to be flexible, how to ask for help, how to pack light.

Mom was my tutor, driver / navigator to all those cello lessons, confidant, encourager, organizer, financial / academic adviser, nurse, cheerleader, waypoint, foundation, friend.

Mom gives so much. I'll never be able to repay the debt I owe. Mom, I love you with all of my heart.

Mom is like the sunlight.

Dad

2009-10-03T19:52:00.001-07:00

Timothy R. Howe , M.D. : I call him Dad.

This summer, Dad and I worked together to carry a load of gear from our campsite on Metallak island, across the lake, and up a short trail to where our cars were. Afterwards, as we canoed back to the island, I remembered how good it felt to have dad in the back of the canoe. Steady, strong, sure.

When I was little, Dad would sing me to sleep on restless nights. My favorite was Bill-Grogan's Goat, to which Dad added marvelous sound-effects. On hot nights, he would "fan" my covers up and down for a long time. When we were bad, Dad spanked us, but I don't remember a time when I got an undeserved punishment. When I stomped off to bed in a bad mood, Dad would come and rub my back and tell me how much he loved me. Believe me, despite many determined attempts to stay cranky, I never outlasted Dad.

Dad taught me how to ride a bike, how to paddle a canoe, how to ice-skate, how to build a fire, how to hike, how to make a bow and arrow, how to prepare for an adventure, how to ski-skate, how to make a debris hut, how to tie a bowline, how to make a basket, how to pray, how to smile when things get tough.

I went to the hospital (I called it the hostible) with Dad occasionally when I was little. It was fun to see all the nurses and patients cheer up as Dad rounded the corner. When our family went to Nepal for three months, I watched as Dad gave consultation, care, and compassion. The people of Huas valley loved and respected Dad; I'm certain they remember him.

I didn't understand how much I relied on Dad until I left home for Peru. Awash in a giddy fear that welled up out of my own insecurity, I read and re-read a carefully folded piece of paper Dad had handed to me on my way out the door. Nobody will ever understand how much that letter meant to me.

Then college, and another letter. Now I have a cell-phone, I call home whenever a trouble or a question faces me. I call Dad for over-the-phone diagnoses of my ills, solid advice, and substantial comfort.

I'm circling. I want to cut to the essence. It's the light in his eye. The rugged personality that exudes integrity and wholeness. The way Dad loves Mom and family. His deep relationship with God. It's the hand on your shoulder and the paddle in the back of the canoe; steady, strong, sure.

Barry

2009-07-31T15:05:00.001-07:00

Barry is my brother. He is absolutely incredible. Absolutely. Incredible.

The first picture of Barry and I shows us sleeping on the blue carpet of our home in Freeport, Maine. Barry's arm is wrapped around me in a gesture of philladelphy. Nobody would guess that we had collapsed in this posture after hours of wrestling.

That is the way it was, and is. We are too close to let our expressions of love for each other be limited to niceties.

I remember Barry first and most as an explorer. He loved to tramp -- a word which perfectly describes the process of exploring woods and fields filled with slanting sunshine, raspberry thickets, and danger unknown. On the steepest parts of the ravine behind our house, Barry would sled and mountain bike in places where nobody else had tried, and nobody else would follow. Barry climbed huge pine trees all through the woods, and once fell about 60 feet through the limbs to the ground below when a dead branch broke under his feet. He was ok, except for a badly lacerated back. That was a miracle.

Barry is shy. When he was little, he gave strangers a berth as wide as the radius of mom's skirts. To say that went away isn't wrong, it's just untrue; Barry now meets new people with the same deep courage and style that he uses in steep places.

When Barry was 9, he took the laser (a 16-ft sailing dinghy) out by himself. When he was about a mile out from our dock, the boat dumped. Barry dry-capsized, which means that he climbed over the vertical side of the boat and sat on the centerboard. He wasn't heavy enough to right the boat, so he had to wait until a lobsterman caught sight of him, and used his trap hook to grab the tip of the mast and set the boat upright.

The two of us used to play "animals" every day. "Animals" was a full theatrical production managed by Barry, the players were a large chest of stuffed animals. The lines of the production were predictable in only one way: it was always war. In every other respect, every day was a breathtaking masterpiece on its own. Barry created every animal with layer upon layer of personality, and then contrived to execute complicated plotlines, impersonating each animal personally. I loved every minute of it, I was absolutely enthralled.

Barry was a pioneer of the stair-jumping phase which I talked about in my post on Paul. He still holds the record for the highest jump -- that jump incindentally damaged some nearby wallboard. I always used that as a excuse to avoid the jump myself.

Barry got a two-man tent, and we eventually decided to camp out in the woods. We set up our tent in the daylight, and then made our way by flashlight to our tent at night. Our tent was snug with sleeping bags, pads, and piles of blankets. Our boisterous conversation quickly gave way to a pervading silence. I was immediately afraid, and after 10 agonized minutes, I let Barry know it. He bolstered my courage with a generous infusion of his own, and we might have lasted 'til the morning except for the sudden scream of a screech owl. We fled.

One winter night, Barry and I donned two of our Dad's white lab coats hanging in the laundry room, and went by moonlight on our cross-country skis to spy out the far fields which had recently been sprinkled with some new houses. When we got close, we took off our skis and crept through the darkness past the houses. I was thrilled to be doing something so dangerous with my brother.

I loved rooming with Barry in college. He faced challenges there with incredible courage. He was an explorer. I'm ordinately proud of my brother because:
1. He has arrived
2. He still explores

Barry is ... a brother. I love him so much.

Paul

2009-07-29T11:04:00.000-07:00

Paul is my oldest brother. He is awesome. (P.Y. = Paul years.)

0-6 P.Y. : I didn't know him. Pictures show a mischief cherub with a natural bent for raspberries. He loved Barry, who appeared on the scene in 3 P.Y, and John (6 P.Y.), despite the fact that he had hoped for a little sister.

6-12 P.Y. : In 6 P.Y. Paul canoed 110 miles of wilderness river with Dad and Bey (his hardy traveling teddy-bear). So began a lifelong love of white-water canoeing. Around 9 P.Y., Paul initiated a time of stair-jumping in our house. We would pile all our clothes and bedding at the bottom of the stairs and jump from as high as we dared. On high-energy days, we played an indoor form of tag called "Guilty Guy," for reasons that have long since abdicated. Two brothers would chase the third to the tune of a yodeling record from the 70's. Successful evasion usually required creative use of furniture.

12-16 P.Y. : Paul learns to sail, and the three brothers set off on the first of many overnight sailing trips to islands in Casco Bay. Paul remained physically small while all of his friends seemed to sprout overnight. He held his own during these years with a penetrating faculty for wit and riposte. Paul read exhaustively during these years. At one time, he read all the parenting books that Mom and Dad kept in their room, and honed his understanding by teaching Barry and I the psychology they contained. I remember watching Paul read a book, listen to a tape, reenact a civil war battle with pinto beans, and soak in the bathtub all at once. Incredible.

We played a lot of hockey in the winters on our pond. Sometimes, we played in big games, and I remember watching in anger as Paul got knocked around by insecure 15-year olds about a foot taller than he was. Around this time, one of Dad's patients invited Paul to help bring a 50-ft sailboat from the Bahamas to Maine by way of Bermuda. Paul accepted, and came back with some well-founded confidence.

A 3-month trip to Nepal drew our family together. Paul, Barry, and I came back as brothers with intense loyalty and love for each other. After that trip, Paul started touring extensively with the New England Youth Ensemble as a violist, and, as a guy who could pack a bus really, really well.

16-18 P.Y.: Paul grew and got strong in one summer, working landscaping at a local retirement village with David Penner. Hockey that winter was a different story: Paul not only held his own, he let players who would bully smaller players cool off in a snowdrift.

Paul got his license, and for two winters, we went snowboarding almost every week with the Gerrans brothers in our ancient Volvo. Paul drove faster back then: I remember the sound an old volvo makes when approaching 100 mph on back roads. Paul was an active leader in our church, and always made a point of pulling outsiders in.

The three brothers went on an Austrailia/NZ tour with NEYE the summer before Paul went to college. On that trip, Paul decided to go to Columbia Union College.

18-25 P.Y.: Paul went away to college. In his senior year there, he met Petra Houmann, the girl he would marry the summer after his second year of law school at Washington and Lee University. After Law school, he accepted a position with AHI to become the C.E.O. of Gimbie Adventist Hospital in Ethiopia. Last summer, I went there for a month to spend some time with my brother and new sister.

It was a different Paul. His mind, honed by three years of Law school, was fit enough to handle the incredible negotiating challenges that assailed him every day. But he was the same too; leaping off proverbial heights, multitasking like the boy in the bathtub, driving fast, and caring most about the little people. The people who got overlooked, bullied, and knocked down -- those people found a friend... a brother ... my brother.

pĕrīshayyā

2009-07-24T06:05:00.000-07:00

Pharisee:
Etymology:: Middle English pharise, from Old English farise, from Late Latin pharisaeus, from Greek pharisaios, from Aramaic pĕrīshayyā, plural of pĕrīshā, literally, separated

From www.merriam-webster.com [search: pharisee]

No single system of beliefs has survived intact over a long time.

=> How should a religious system keep itself?

Natural Selection

2009-07-09T06:36:00.001-07:00

fascinating bug

2009-07-09T06:31:00.000-07:00

4 snakes

2009-06-28T19:38:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a weekend in the Bigelows.

Bike mileage: 10 miles
Hike/run mileage: 18 miles
Weather Patterns: Sun, rain, hail, lightening
Favorite food: Hershey's 5th Avenue
Trail conditions: mud-water
Bible study: Matthew 5
Fauna: 2 deer, 1 toad, 4 snakes

Proportions

2009-06-22T06:58:00.000-07:00

How big is God? Why is it easier for me to see His design under the microscope and in the sky than in my own life? God is a spirit (John 4:23). Spirits are not confined to a space dimension (Wind-Spirit analogy: John 3:8). His creation occupies a set amount of space, and in that way, it is dissimilar from Him. So, when I look at something that fills a very different proportion of space from myself, I may approach to that "dissimilarity factor" with which God views his creation.

twinkle twinkle

2009-06-17T04:57:00.000-07:00

I'm working on defining musical notes in other ways than their wavelength. There are two reasons for this.

1. I want to apply my musical intuition to writing and art.

2. I want to unravel music to see the ideas and colors implied in melody and chord.

I've always thought that various musical keys have personalities. To test this, I sat down with my older brother Paul ( a violist and pianist) and David Hegstead ( musician and composer) in Gimbie, Ethiopia. We chose hymns that we knew the words of, and then thought silently about what key would be appropriate for that hymn. After individually determining which key was a "fit", we conferred upon our results. Of about 20 hymns we worked through, 16 selections were unanimous. In only 1 case did all of us disagree. (I checked to see if we were simply selecting the key of the hymn as written from harmonic recall... but this was not the case. Our results frequently differed from that of the hymn.)

That is great, but it's another thing to actually express or characterize those personalities. I decided to try and characterize individual notes first. I used two words and a color for each of 7 notes. I decided that flats (or sharps) would be a mixture of the two notes which they fall between. So:

C : Solid Comfort

D: Sharp Definition

E: Fluid Movement

F: Viscous Thought

G: Optimistic Fluff

A: Tragic Sardonic

B: Sweet Sad

Hence, Twinkle Twinkle in C major.

Soft flannel pajamas will sooth sore hearts. I wonder if perilous deeds might also?

That isn't very satisfying. Maybe about as good as a beginner playing twinkle twinkle on the violin.

Now a chord. Starting from the bottom: G F B D F B-flat. (sorry, don't know the name)

Optimistic fluff + Viscous thought + Sweet Sad + Sharp Definition + Viscous Thought + Sad Comfort

aaaaaa Jazz Chord.

my 1 cent

2009-06-04T10:31:00.000-07:00

Selfishness (the quality of a vital self) leads to desperate unhappiness. Actually, it leads to hell.

Vanity (feeding the self) is unnecessary. Actually, it leads to selfishness.

Death to self is necessary.

Love (feeding the other) is necessary. Actually, it leads to God.

God is necessary. Actually, since redemption = recreation, He leads to Life.

This post derived inspiration from Barry and Joel... who each wrote wonderful blogs on this topic.

Simple , Good

2009-05-31T16:52:00.000-07:00

I like bread with peanut butter and a glass of cold soy-milk for supper.

Simple things can taste so good.

Wouldn't it be neat to have a recipe-book which was full of simple, nutritious, combinations? A book which derived taste from the quality of an idea, and not from the quantity of ingredients?

Sunglasses?

2009-05-29T10:33:00.000-07:00

A "Thomas" posted comment #4 on my blog about Shop-ing.

"You want to carry the wholesale polarized sunglasses this is very important. Our polarized lenses are made in U.S.A. very high quality. These are very popular for fishing and driving because they block the glare so good."

I would have deleted it immediately as a poorly written scam add, except for its juxtaposition with the next comment, again by "Thomas."

"There are many good Christian wholesale suppliers that you can find online. If you want to start a business and would like to find good Christian wholesale suppliers to contact for your business purposes than it should be rather easy to do."

I am unimpressed by Thomas's business offer, but...

Do we sell christianity because it blocks "the glare so good"?