The story-teller

I think there is great power in narrative. This must be because I am a product of a post-modern generation. As relativistic as narrative may be as a vehicle to transmit truth, I think there is something in all of our souls that resonates with a great story.
I love hearing good stories, and I think it was very encouraging me to hear of three good ones today, even though I had heard two of them previously. However, just as in childhood, there is great comfort in hearing good win and evil defeated in narrative, even if you hear them over and over again.
On the other hand, Jesus was into stories too, big time. He was a super story-teller as well, one of the best in history. Which adds another component - a guy named Glenn I met today fleshed out one of Jesus' best stories, and refreshed its beating heart for me. Journeying with him into the "far country" and back again was a great, though brief, adventure...

High School Confidential

Do you ever wonder if you're getting sucked into a high-school-esque scenario, complete with jocks, nerds and the cool crowd? I'm currently wondering that as well - it's kind of weird, kind of gives-me-the-heebee-jeebees kind of weird, kind of get-me-outta-here kind of weird... it's particularly weird, especially since I think I'm kind of like the goody-two-shoes-nerdy Sandy. And you know how that ends: she ends up compromising everything she used to be in order to vamp out and join the cool kids... now, to me, that's one of the most pathetic/tragic heroines in one of our modern myths... or, heaven forbid, if one should start off as Veronica, wanting to please the Heathers, and instead ends up going on a murderous rampage...

Goodbye, Ralph....

It struck me, watching a movie with a friend of mine the other evening, how odd the depiction is when women leave their husbands. For some reason, whenever in a movie a woman decides to leave, she never goes with anything more than a tiny little suitcase. You know the ones; those small little handbag-sized suitcases, big enough to hold two sweaters and a pair of shoes. She may also perhaps have her purse, and maybe a small dog, but that's it. Then, she usually has some parting words as she's heading out to the taxi, like, "Goodbye", or "I can't take this anymore, I'm leaving", or "I loved you once", or some such thing.
This strikes me as odd, as I was thinking, if I was going to leave, I believe I'd have a lot more than just two sweaters and a pair of shoes to take with me. Perhaps I'd need a U-Haul to take my stuff. Or perhaps I wouldn't need that much space at all - maybe my car trunk would do. However, this doesn't alter the fact that women have a lot of stuff - there's hardly enough room in those suitcases for adequate toothpaste/ shampoo/ toothbrush/ towel packing for just doing the basic hygiene things, once they get to their destinations in the taxicabs. So then I thought, perhaps in the movies, these women don't have to worry about those kinds of things. Or, perhaps the suitcases, in fact, don't hold two sweaters and a pair of shoes; maybe they just stuff them full of money, and then they leave.... I then also thought, "In the movies, do women who are planning on leaving their husbands specifically go out on a shopping excursion to find those kinds of suitcases?", for I imagined that it's not the usual household item to have; it's not a terribly useful sized suitcase for any other kind of travel, except for husband-leaving...
This of course, conversely, always strikes me in the movies that whenever this occurs, the husband usually stands there, relatively dumbstruck, and just watches her leave and get into the taxicab. How come they never say anything? I find movie archetypes very strange...

Practising what you preach (or, at least what is preached at you)...

I think sometimes, one of the most difficult things is applying something that you just learned. Sometimes, I find, there is, in fact, MORE opportunity to completely miss the point in some good teaching. What I mean to say is: Isn't it odd when you hear a particularly apt Word, and you think, gosh, that's good and important; I could see how that might apply to me, I should try to remember that for some vague time in the future, but not now, not for me in my current life, but then, WHAM! you find yourself tumbling into situations over and over again that challenge that notion, that forces you to actually take Word seriously, and wonder, wow, this is applicable now, and I totally cannot apply it with any real conviction, rightness or power... sigh...

As long as I don't have to play Pachebel's Canon...

So, after a very long hiatus, I picked up my viola to play again. And reminded myself quite quickly that I was never really the best player to begin with, and really, a viola needs a violin, or at least a cello, in order to 'fit' properly... I think it always was appropriate that I played viola - the supporting instrument, the undertone, the alto of the group - not the flashy violin, not the melodious cello, but really, backup and support...
However, now that it's re-emerged, I'm wondering how and where I could play it at my level, and strongly considering re-joining an orchestra again... hmmm, maybe that's just wishful thinking....

Needing a Daniel...

I remember a friend of mine once told me about a recurring dream that she had for many years that haunted her for nights on end. Eventually, when, after much prayer and thoughtful discussion, she realized what it signified and what it was meant for, the dream fled, and she has been free of it ever since.
Some have known of some sleep issues of late for me, but that's not the point. I've been having two recurring dreams of late, and I can't, for the life of me, figure out what they're meant for. The one, which prompted this writing, afflicted me this morning, and now, of course, I can't remember what it was about. The other has had a theme of baptism, of children, and of persecution. Once I remember the other one, I'll list that one too, but it'd be awfully handy to know what this is all about.

I think I've written about this before...

Let's be clear now: I don't hate mass emails. I just fail to see the point in them, most of the time. Or, perhaps more accurately, I really dislike how they are used inefficiently and ineffectively. We used to be able to function without letting everybody know absolutely everything about every little detail about said function/cause/email subject.
I don't mind getting a mass email, as long as it contains information that does, in fact, pertain to me. However, what doesn't make sense to me is the "reply to all" function, when the "reply" does not pertain "to all". There is, after all, a simple "reply" button. Otherwise, the mailbox gets even more cluttered with information that looks like it pertains to me, but, in fact, does not.
Case in point: If you're emailed about a party, or some such thing, does everyone really need to know if one person is wondering if they could bring an extra friend, or what they were planning on bringing to eat, or what shoes they were planning on wearing, or that they are going to be one hour late? NO. Emphatically, no.
That's common sense email etiquette: don't clutter the email box. No spam, no chain-mail, no cute video or flash presentation that you had forwarded that you think everybody in your address book needs to see (not unless it directly pertains to them), no powerpoint presentation with some esoteric puppies. In light of how, increasingly, individuals are literally drowning in their emails (I think it's sad when friends have to stay home in the evening, just to clean out their email boxes), I think it's a simple public service to retain email for useful information transmittal.
This also, of course, speaks to my bias against email as the main communication method between individuals. I faaaaarrrrr prefer speaking to someone in person, rather than maintain some email conversation (Exceptions, of course, are those people who live long distances away). Of course, that's obvious: If I like you, I will talk to you. A lot. The end. The much more efficient and enjoyable way to go, frankly.

"Strategic philanthropy"

So, on the way home today, I was listening to this discussion about the notion of strategic philanthropy, where, essentially, a marketing guy was talking about how corporations aligning themselves with various charitable issues causes a 'win-win' situation for everyone involved (gag, gag, oops, sorry, hard to control the reflex to throw up), such as CIBC aligning themselves with the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation, in order to help them sell as many useless pink appliances and housewares as possible, for what appears to be (for all intents and purposes) lots of marketing hype and money-making, but not much from the actual results point of view.
Several of the counterpoints, I thought, brought up some poignant issues, but were quickly glossed and brushed over. One brought up the issue that hawking product, absolutely unrelated to the charitable cause, was not, in fact, philanthropy at all (seriously; what does a KitchenAid mixer have to do with breast cancer? Furthermore, what does a pink hockeystick have to do with breast cancer?). It is simply 'doing good' to 'look good', and makes profit the ultimate motive.
Another brought up the point that, in corporations controlling who gets corporate exposure and support, individual citizens have very little to no idea who or what their money (funnelled through the corporation, of course) goes to, whether it's effective and whether real change occurs. If one buys a Red Motorola phone, or a Red American Express card, how does one really know that means some mother in Tanzania is going to get her anti-viral drugs? (Of course, one of the most famous blunders was by Radiohead in their pathetically crappy efforts to reduce their carbon footprint; they claimed that they had paid for groves and groves of mango trees to be planted in the vague area of "Africa" to carbon offset their last world tour, yet, when follow up was done by a journalist, very few to none of these trees had been planted, and of those that were indeed planted, most of them died and were not replaced. Radiohead then sent out a statement saying it wasn't their responsibility to ensure that their mango trees were planted, which then begs the question: Whose was it??).
Yet another brought up the point that "unsexy" charities (such as for homeless people vs. upper class overweight women with breast cancer, malaria vs. HIV and chronic care elderly/mentally challenged vs. those darn 'cute' children from Sick Kids') are forgotten and waylaid in order to make room for the trendier and sexier issues. This, of course, results in the weaker, the lowlier and the humbler issues, even though equally meritous, to be ignored and alienated further from the mainstream.
Bah. That really irked me today. It would be really pleasant for me if people would just think more about issues.

FFT

They call it a Home for the Aged, whenever
it's mentioned (and mentally file it away
under D.. for Decrepit. And Dreary. And Death.)
while they fight off their hidden reluctance to stay
for that duty-bound visit. "But really, it isn't
so bad, is it, dear?" with eyes tactful, averted
from half-emptied bedpan.
                                                   "Young Lisa has plans
to be married this spring..." (and the subject is skirted
of why Auntie Mae must be strapped to her chair,
for she wanders, you see. Can't be helped. Very sad.)

and they chatter, too quickly, avoiding those pauses
- so awkward - and leave, feeling inwardly glad.

And Grace, in Room 10, whispers low to her husband
some secret - laughs softly, caressing his face
with her words. Now he answer her; smiling, she nods -
she's along... for besides her lies nothing but space,
He's been dead 7 years, you see. She hasn't heard.
Or, at least, not a part of her anyone sees.
Bernadette, in the next bed, turns slightly away
and tried vainly to sleep, block it out... ill at ease,
for she knows. She can't walk now, or see that well
- slightly incontinent, too - but her mind is quite clear,
and for Grace she feels pity - or anger.
                        Or nothing.
               She wishes, at times, she could no longer hear.

In the hallway sits Jim, in his chair, grinning happily
(foolishly, some say). He raises an arm,
hand outstretched, tried to touch you - you shrink back with fear
that is nameless, instinctive - he meant you no harm.
The fingers have withered to claws, yellowed bones
and blue veins showing through the translucent, frail skin
               (is it for reassurance you glance at your own
youthful flesh?). You recover, returning his grin,
greet him gently, then leave him - untouched - as he was.

              You find yourself walking more quickly, because
              of that growing uneasiness buried within.
If only those buzzers would stop - and that smell
(undefined, only found in one ward) and the light
that keeps flashing above that man's room.
                                                                    But you know,
deep inside, that it's none of those things that you fight
every time you walk in here. It's something abstract,
yet more real.

                        Can it be that they all were once young?
- or did nature create separate species? That woman,
right there - she has eyes like your own...
                                                                   ...but you've flung
the thought from you, its message too strange. With a glance
at your watch, you move into the stairwell, then past
the reception desk into the bustling street,
thinking how you must hurry.
                                                                         The time goes so fast...

- Beverly Wilson

Food, glorious food

What an awfully nice event... I did, in fact, manage to get to Il Fornello recently. Certainly, I didn't explain why, but here's the reasoning. In the effort to promote sustainability in our food chains, and support our rapidly diminishing agricultural sector, this restaurant has started a menu that is made EXCLUSIVELY out of Ontario produce - how exciting! This would probably compose the most exciting thing that I could think of that one could do for food.
At any rate, it was a fabulous dinner. Started with a chilled sweet potato soup, garnished with goat's cheese, had a rib eye steak (gasp! My first taste of cow in about 2 years! We even have photographic evidence of me ingesting cow! It was terribly anti-climactic - I had even forgotten what beef had tasted like, and I really can't understand what the big hoopla over beef is... though ordered and eaten, as it was from a farm that I know and trust, so now I'm good for another, oh, 5-10 years now...) with spring aspgaragus, finished off with a gorgeous strawberry shortcake (all the more sweet in knowing that the aspgaragus and strawberry seasons are within their very last gasps)!
Ironically, as much as I would've liked to have paired this meal with a nice Baco Noir or Cabernet, they didn't actually have Niagara wines available for purchase by the glass, which I found odd.
Highly recommended, if only to demonstrate that care for sustainability in our food chains is important to you...

Lawyers and high-hats

There's something magical about watching men in top hats and tails tap-dancing. Maybe I'm just a throwback to the Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire days, but there's just a je ne sais quoi to watching that kind of stage magic. It's the kind of hand-to-the-forehead, swooning, fan-yourself amazement that strikes you when you watch someone able to stylishly pull off a whole routine of the tappa-tappa-tappa in a tuxedo and still be smiling and singing till the end.... George and Ira Gershwin's My One and Only was a fantabulous show for those reasons... but then, I love that kind of stuff, so if you don't, then likely heading all the way over there likely isn't worth your time...
Also, if you're going to go eat, I think it's always wise to go with a lawyer. I'm just saying...

FFT

This shift has very deep consequences, for if youth no longer aspires to become adult and take the place of the fathers, and if the main motivation is conformity to the peer group, we might witness the death of a future-orientated culture or - to use a theological term - the end of an eschatology. Then we longer witness any desire to leave the safe place and to travel to the father's house which has so many rooms, any hope to reach the promised land or to see Him who is waiting for his prodigal son, any ambition to sit at the right or the left side of the heavenly throne. Then staying home, keeping in line and being in with your little group - becomes important. But that also is an absolute vote for the status quo.

- Henri Nouwen

Hollywood twaddle

Now, it's well known that I am totally not big on celebrity and blockbusters and the like, but, due my love and profound respect for some friends, I went to go see that Silver Surfer movie yesterday. Let's be clear: It's because I love my friends that I went - sometimes one will sacrifice much for love.
I am generally completely baffled by the entertainment industry: is it really that entertaining to have illogical, poorly conceived plotlines acted out by characters that have the depth of a microchip? As I was saying to someone yesterday, entertainment (and it's precursor, art) should be responsible. Art was (and is) always conceived to be the plumb line for the depths of the human condition, to encourage its nobleness, to exhilarate with its beauty, to lay bare the soul. This (sorry! but it's true) crap that gets churned out to be fed to the masses like some over-processed corn feed at the trough is not art, does not ennoble, does not elevate, does not make us better people. Brainless twaddle, it is.
I think someone much wiser than I put it better: "Finally, brothers (and sisters), whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."
Sigh. Paul has such a way with words. Now that's art...

Tales from the ER

You know, it's been a long time since I've had to do any weird and wacky foreign body removals... the last notable one was probably two years ago when a certain young man told me the stereotypical story of vaccumming naked in his living room...however, I just removed a 3cm rock from the nose of a two year old... I don't think he was terribly happy with me, but the adults, myself included, were astounded by the size of the rock he managed to shove up there... who knew that there was such room in the nose of a child? who knew that the imagination of a child would be such that they would patiently push a rock THAT BIG into such a small nostril? Fortunately, he won't remember a thing, and, if I'm unlucky, I may see him later today with a Tonka truck or something up there... At least I got my first laugh of the day early...

Watoto

Who would've figured that I'd have caught a Ugandan children's choir in the middle of Bruce County? Funny that, when you see broad smiles and gorgeous faces, and you realize that they've lost mothers and fathers to civil war and to AIDS, and it just becomes heart-breakingly beautiful...

Around the World in 80 days....

My sister is currently on a motorcycle tour of Vietnam, and boy, am I jealous! I do realize, of course, that likely between the two of us, we will probably manage to get to all the countries of the world, but I am still very down on the fact that I'm not riding through the paddy fields of southeast Asia...

Happy eating

OK, you know where I want to eat next? Il Fornello. Consider yourself warned...

FFT

We are called to play the Good Samaritan on life's roadside... but one we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. It comes to see that a system that produces beggars needs to be repaved. We are called to be the Good Samaritan, but after you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved.
- The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King

Hawaii-Five-O

When my parents visited Hawaii, they returned with, unfortunately, some of the most ghastly Hawaiian shirts this side of the Pacific... which, I had thought (or maybe vainly hoped) would be a souvenir, a memento of some sort. Not so! When my father appeared wearing a turquoise (turquoise!) shirt with magenta (magenta!) orchids, blooming with bright yellow stamens like there's no tomorrow, with (non-)matching blue track pants, announcing he was going to go for a walk, I was completely flabbergasted. Had my father lost colour vision? Perhaps the macular degeneration had just been tipped over the edge? Maybe he had had a small stroke that prevented him from seeing himself? It was a horrifying, stereotypical Asian-father-mowing-the-lawn vision.
At any rate, I didn't stop him, despite the fact that my jaw was dragging along the floor of the kitchen... this does, however, perhaps explain my utter lack of fashion sense as well...

Obviously, I need a little help...

I did a quiz recently to figure out which theologian my views most closely align to: Apparently, I scored most in line with a guy named Anselm, Karl Barth and Martin Luther.... I'd never even heard of Anselm before, and, to be completely honest, I don't really know what the distinct theological viewpoints of the others are (though I am sure that I agree with most of Luther's points, except for the anti-semitism)... weird...

Out of curiosity...

I know I've mentioned this before in the context of North Bay, but I am noting that I am getting regular readers out there from places and times that I didn't think were possible... Some of you, I know for sure, are regular avid readers, which is great, but I haven't been able to pinpoint who the other ones are... are you able to come out of the woodwork, just so I know who you are? If you'd like to remain anonymous, that's cool, it's just that I'm curious...

Locked in the space-time continuum

I must say, one expression that I have using a lot of late has been: "three-dimensional space and linear time", which, of course, is the nature of the constraints in which we live and breathe. Which, of course, has great impact on how we understand time and space (duh). In discussions about heaven and hell, judgement and mercy, love and relationship and mountain-moving change, it is sometimes hard to wrap one's mind around the idea that we have a really hard time thinking outside of that box. Praise God that we don't have to, and He DOES. Which makes the whole idea of life very reassuring.

FFT

The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church's prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament.
-Soren Kierkegaard

FFT

This may come as a surprise to you: Christianity is not an invitation to become a moral person. It is not a program for getting us in line or for reforming society. It has a powerful effect upon our lives, but when transformation comes, it is always the aftereffect of something else, something at the level of our hearts. At its core, Christianity begins with an invitation to desire.... Christianity has nothing to say to the person who is completely happy with the way things are. Its message is for those who hunger and thirst- for those who desire life as it was meant to be. Why does Jesus appeal to desire? Because it is essential to his goal: bringing us life.... When it comes to the moral question, it is not simply whether we say yes or no to desire, but always what we do with desire. Christianity recognizes that we have desire gone mad within us. But it does not seek to rectify the problem by killing desire; rather, it seeks the healing of desire, just as it seeks the healing of every other part of our human being.
- John Eldredge

More baby-catching

So far on this shift (which, admittedly, is over in about four hours), I've had a 75% C-section rate, which is wayyyy beyond the national average... sigh... why can't women just have normal births anymore? Oh wait, I know the answer to that one...

Fallen comrades

Tragically, one cardiac surgeon, one pediatric cardiothoracic fellow, as well as four others on the organ transplant team from the University of Michigan, have had their plane crash en route to retrieve organs for a patient. Even though I am totally not smart or brilliant enough to have anything to do with organ transplantation, it still is poignant when one of your own dies 'in the line of fire', doing what we usually do.

Food for ingestion and digestion

I was talking with a friend the other day who, surprisingly to me, told me she was reading The Omnivore's Dilemma. That made me sooo happy! Now, I had read that book a few months ago, but I must say: it's brilliant. I believe I told my friend that it seemed to encapsulate most everything that I felt about food, to be honest. So, this is a plug for a brilliant book - go and read it! And, if you don't want to buy it or steal it, then ask real nicely, and I'll lend it to you! This would be particularly helpful if you've been scratching your head trying to figure out what the heck I'm usually ranting about on the issues of food and agriculture...

Iiiii wanna beeee..... (with apologies to Delirious?)

I am very puzzled by the notion that a Jesus-person would not want to be an eternity-maker... it doesn't seem to make sense to me, that they could somehow exist as two separate entities one from the other... hearing that assertion that sometimes, maybe we wouldn't want to participating in making this creation a better place, in helping bring about justice for widows and orphans, in bringing a voice to the voiceless, that we would want to be normal, and safe, and fade into the background... that just seems odd and out of place, and frankly, inconsistent, to me...

Shamanism

I'm not sure if I've written about this before, but it continually ?shocks? humbles? astounds? me how physicians almost seem to be the modern medicine men, the shaman, the grand priest, straddling the divide between life and death... It perpetually surprises me to no end when patients just want the assurance that they are normal, even though they felt fine, and they think that they are probably OK, but still needing the reassurance that yes, they are right. It's odd in that it seems that individual autonomy in actually understanding and feeling one's own rhythms aren't sufficient; one needs an outside source to confirm or deny one's own instinct. Very odd... like being able to get into that confession booth, and being 'free' to walk out the other side... like having chicken bones and tea shaken around in a bowl, and having an incantation being said, in order to be liberated... like having a liturgy or prayer said over you, and the blessing of life is now yours for the taking...

Glory

Boy, so many things and blessings have occurred this weekend, it would be hard to articulate what was all jumbled up in that, however: I think I am feeling more strongly that labels such as conservative/ evangelical/ liberal/ fundamentalist/ radical/ heretical/ left/ right is not how I'd like to be labelled. I would like to be humble enough to free others from those labels as well. I think I just want to follow Jesus. I think I would just like to be known as a Jesus-follower, a foot-washer. That's all. I know I don't do it well most of the time, and I mainly mess it up most of the time, but I think that if the only label I ever get is that of Jesus-freak, that would be enough for me.

Feeling somewhat wretched...

I know I'm wayyyy past the point of being able to party all night, so I'm not entirely sure how I managed to find myself at the Horseshoe at 1am on a weeknight, yelling at people over a few pints and several decibels of funk-rock.... and then dragging myself to work the next day... oh wait, I know... you know who you are, you musicians.... all I need is a few musicians to tell me something will be cool, and I'm there, even if I feel like passing out...

Granola or goofball?

I am well aware of the fact that sandals and socks are a big fashion faux-pas, but I still like doing it with my Birks. I think (or at least, I fancy to imagine) that it lends a wholesome air... certainly, I don't think I'd do that with Tevas or with flip-flops, but I think Birks fall into a different category. I only note this as one of my friends belongs to a group that celebrates the socks and sandals phenomenon, so I feel like perhaps there are enough of us in solidarity for things to be alright...
I am so sorry that I have been much less than profound as of late; I think I have been a bit too busy to be pondering much. That being said, I have been lately thinking about how the ends causes the means, as least in terms of pre- and post-millenialism, which I admit I only understand on the most peripheral of terms, but is still fascinating to think about...

Domesticity... not... more like pre-plane panic...

I must admit, it takes quite a lot to motivate myself to actually do non-food-related household chores... cook? Sure, no problem. Do the dishes? Absolutely! Almost anything else in the house, well, uh... man.... can we hire someone to do this??? I feel like I've accomplished much today, as I've swept up the front walk, dealt with the garden, did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, and, most impressive of all, I finally cleaned out my car! That had come to a head when I realized I couldn't really drive two other passengers in my car due to all the junk in it... so, I finally hauled out all the paperwork, journals and magazines that had accumulated in my makeshift bookshelf and dealt with it. I can actually (almost) seat five now, which is impressive... all that, while entertaining and playing with my nephew, who is, of course, the cutest thing to walk the planet... you'd think that was a totally goal-orientated day, wouldn't you? Too bad I'm not really that goal-orientated...

Lullabies

I just came back from a really great obstetrical conference, and it was so super in talking with others who are interested in the same things that I am. I really love delivering babies; it is totally the best thing! However, I must say that, on occasion, we (and by that, I mean the system) are very medicalized about childbirth. It doesn't help that many, many patients are totally on that train, and WON'T let us get off of it. But it bothers me that many 'midwifey' techniques that I've used in the past have not been of much use since I've returned to the GTA, where we epiduralize and medicate everybody, because patients expect and want us to...

Hooray for the CBC... and not just for hockey!

I think I may have mentioned this before, but I think I nurse a small addiction to CBC Radio One... maybe it's Matt Galloway's reassuring voice in the afternoons, or Ideas in the evenings, or Barbara Budd's mildly annoying voice, or just Andy Barrie chatting away (sometimes way out of his league) in the mornings, but it's a bit strange at how attached I've gotten to the public broadcasting voice of Canada... I like Rita Celli, even though I'm not sure what the point of her show is, I miss Global Village, have yet to catch Dispatches, laugh like crazy when I catch the Debaters (yay Shaun Majumder!)... sigh... it's good stuff.... I think I am particularly struck, as I was just listening to a Mr. Lawrence Wright give a Munk lecture on the current clash of civilizations, and how we ended up at this point after 9/11, on my way home this evening, and it was articulate, heady stuff....

Hint, hint, nudge, nudge...

What's really brilliant is creating a wish list of books I'd like to eventually own on Indigo's site... it does help keep track of library building...
Furthermore, I came across this website, which, I think because of the ascerbic humour, makes me laugh: www.hellokittyhell.com....

Free the Koreans!

Sigh.... I'm not going to turn all victimized and everything, but it makes me wonder about the plight of the Korean-American.... now a judge in Washington is suing a dry cleaners for $65 million (!!!!!) for losing a pair of his pants, even after the elderly couple offered $12,000 (!!!!) in compensation (despite the fact the pants were only worth $500). Thankfully, some of the lawyers involved think that the judge should pay them for all the legal bills and mental anguish... I should hope so... ridiculousness in oppressing my people...

FFT

When an angel gets mad, he takes a deep breath and counts to ten.
And when he lets out his breath, somewhere there's a tornado.
Reagan, 10

Geographically seeking...

I am totally wondering: Who is regularly reading me from North Bay/Sudbury? I'm greatly flattered, but who are you? Let me know! It's weirding me out!

Incompetent ninnies (mutter, mutter....)

You know, sometimes I think I fundamentally believe incompentency is the biggest vice you could possibly have. Unfortunately, my sister has been the victim of identity theft, all the more improbable as she hasn't lived in the country for several years. I suppose if the corporations had bothered to actually talk to a real person, or done some more work, they would have noticed the fact that she doesn't live in Canada. It's been mind-bogglingly ridiculous talking to various service representatives and other people who just talk at you, don't know how to solve the problem, and don't know who is actually responsible for anything. They, of course, in turn, are not responsible for anything either, and wash their hands of all potential problems.
Perhaps it's because it's in the nature of my job to actually take responsibility, to actually know what's going on, to not be an incompetent loser, to see people that I work for as (oh my gosh, wait for it!) people, to not lose people through the cracks, that completely doesn't allow me to see how other industries can allow that to happen to individuals. Maybe I'm just upset, because that pisses me off that someone would mess with my sister.

SLKT IV

Talking to some Briercrest grads about the nature of worship, some of which was cool, though not very 'new' ideas, such as the notion of worship being beyond music, beyond services, beyond how we feel or what we do, but actually holistic and integral to life. However, another interesting point was that about the aesthetics of worship: Is it important? To whom (or Whom)? What are the driving forces for aesthetics in worship?

SLKT III

Slipping on the skin of a different culture is incredibly difficult; likely one of the most challenging things one can do, as it is impossible, as a snake can, to shed our skins for another.
One story to illustrate the point: Woman falls down, thinks she broke her arm. Ponders about it for several days, despite the nurse begging her to come and get it looked at and cared for. Decides not to come for care. Decides, instead, to SNORT, not eat, 40 Tylenol #1s. Realizes that this doesn't work too well, and finally shows up five days later, wondering how the arm can be fixed....
Several things that I can't wrap my mind around, among many: a) when one is in pain, doesn't one get bothered by this? b) when one is in pain, doesn't one usually seek comfort or care from other human beings? c) when one is offered care and comfort by another human, especially if they have experience in a similar-type pain, doesn't one usually defer to that knowledge? d) doesn't anybody take medication the way the doctor prescribes it anymore? Where on earth does the idea of snorting prescription medication come from? (I know, I know; ppl have been doing that to Oxy for years now) e) when one breaks a limb, isn't it usually intuitive to get that fixed pronto?
It just makes me shake my head, as it completely defies me as to understand this scenario...

North American ethnocentrism

To harp some more about the role of Asians in North Americans in society: I am surprised at myself, and society in general, at how shocking it is that some yellow dude went and shot a whole bunch of people; mainly because it's not -culturally- expected. Generally, we're a pretty invisible lot; we serve as the 'model minority': we work hard, keep our heads low and disappear, pretty much.
The other, more shocking, though not surprising, thing, is how self-absorbed and ethnocentric we are as North Americans. Vigils, candlelight services, television memorials, large murals for people to write their feelings on, loads of flowers and teddy bears - all for 32 unfortunate people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sure, outpouring of collective grief in mourning is important for healing, but what of the hundreds of children who die because of AIDS? The millions who live in slavery? The thousands who die of preventable causes; famine, unclean water, natural disasters, poverty? What of the 23 Christian Iraqis who were selectively shot, after being pulled from a bus, yesterday in Bagdhad? What of the renewed fighting in Mogadishu, causing hundreds to flee the city into who knows what kind of refugee limbo and leaving over 100 dead? What of Hussein Celil, sentenced to life in a Chinese prison? Why do we not mourn these, also dearly loved, also dearly missed? Why do we wallow in our own self-absorption, thinking that the most terrible things happen to -us-, when, in fact, they don't, and, even more arrogantly, expect the world to mourn deeply with us?

SLKT II

Sometimes I think the number one reason why I come up here is the yogurt. Seriously. I haven't been able to find it anywhere else but here, but it is WICKED! Went to the supermarket yesterday and bought two huge tubs, which will easily be eaten well before the end of next week...

SLKT I

You know what I love about small town airports? I love how there is absolutely no security check; no x-rays, no taking off of shoes, no walking through metal detectors, no nothing.... just check in and fly.... admittedly, you're flying in tiny little 10 person planes, so it's awfully low cost-benefit ratio if you're trying to terrorize a plane, but it's still nice to just check in and go on your way...

Bad things come in 3's (with regrets to Anne)

1. My accountant dropped the bomb as to how much tax I had to pay this year, which was mind-numbing, and higher than last year... booooo! I suppose I could console myself that I'm helping subsidize several obese, smoking, diabetic men get their bypass surgeries or knee replacements, or the governor general's trip to some far off place, but it doesn't help much... not much at all....
2. A KOREAN guy was responsible for the shooting spree in Virginia.... oh, for crying out loud: how embarassing!!!!
3. Actually, life isn't really that bad.... we live in a beautiful world, yeah we do, yeah we do...

Bwa ha haaaaa, the POWER (insert lightning bolt here)!!!!

So, I am apparently cross-appointed to two universities now; isn't that crazy? Who would've figured that any university at all would've wanted me in the first place? Though, really, there's no power, clout, nothing... I don't even have a little paper card proving this fact... sigh.... still have to argue with nurses that yes, indeed, I am not a medical student...

The REAL UFC

While on the topic of international conflict, one of my friends pointed out, when he was a child, his playmates determined that grown-ups should deal with international conflict the same way they would in the schoolyard: the leader of country A should challenge the leader of country B to a fight. Clean fighting, no below-the-belt, boxing ring-type matches. That way, if presidents and kings wanted to fight with one another, they could do so directly, and not send their minions in to do the job for them.
Now THAT would be something that I'd want to watch: Can you imagine pudgy Kim Jong-Il taking on George Bush? I think Bush could take him, even though he's the older man. Or Ahmadinejad taking on Tony Blair? Blair could TOTALLY take him. It would change the nature of our conflicts, for sure: no president wants to look foolish alone, so conflict would cease, if we did it the good old way, and had the leaders deal directly with the leaders, mano a mano....

Facebook

So I -finally- got a page on Facebook, after much harassment. However, I stripped it down to the bare bones, and, basically, there's nothing on it, except to say to come by and check out my blog. I figure, I have a hard enough time keeping up with this blog, which isn't anything fancy (since I can't figure out how to put pictures and diagrams up or anything)... how am I supposed to keep up with pokes, walls, messages, mini-feeds, etc etc etc??
At any rate, at least I'm there, so if you really want to be my friend, you are perfectly welcome to request it.... now whether I actually get online to check to see that or not, is a completely other matter....

Isn't She Beautiful? - a reprise

So, a friend's friend's blog had this wonderfully written piece that I wanted to share here... It was an 'oh yes!' moment for me in reading that, in thinking in my heart, 'oh, she is so horrid and so callous and cold, but I am still crazy about her, cause I still believe in the ability for her to get up and change the world'... Here's the site: http://riellymclaren.blogspot.com/2007/01/isnt-she-beautiful.html .... of course, if you're too lazy to click on the link, here's the entry:

I'm sure I've excited some of you. A strange, but telling title for a blog.

I know many of you have been interested in the fruit of my love life as a single guy. Are you curious to know the "she" that is so beautiful? I am aware of your keen interest in finding me the right lady. Your thoughts and attempts have been flattering and appreciated; however, you can rest now.

Search no more. You'd be glad to know that she is indeed very beautiful. Sadly, I didn't always notice her that way. I admit I was a little blind to her; though she was right under my nose all along. I was just caught up in "doing" the things of life, and as such, it prevented me from seeing her. I am just so glad that God opened my eyes to just how beautiful she actually is.

So who is she? I'm sure you are dying to know.

As a matter of fact, I almost considered her ugly before! Not ugly asethetically, she kept up her physical appearance fairly well. On the outside she could be noticeable a times: elegant, polished, witty, and articulate; but inside, oh inside! I percieved to be so ugly. I thought I knew her, she made me angry at times...her behaviour was atrocious! I was just waiting for her to say something embarassing. Have you ever known someone like that? They can seem so beautiful on the outside, but as soon as they open their mouth, it's like they were just beaten with an ugly stick?

What's even worse, people would talk about the horrible things she did before I met her. Her former loves, her failures, her deciet. I would be appalled and speechless, especially when they would ask why I still keep company with her...

I wondered why I kept company with her.

I used to think she was ugly; but isn't she beautiful?

Yesterday night I was just sitting there and admiring her. She smiled at me.

She smiled at my beating heart. My heart, because it was her own.

Many others were admiring her...I wasn't jealous. We all knew her reputation, but admired her nonetheless. We could all sympathize with the ugliness. I, of all people, could sympathize with her.

We saw her beauty, and saw that there is none like her. God made her, and loves her, even when she did go her own way. There was always a part of her that was beautiful, and longed to be everything God made her to be, even when her hands and feet rebelled and left home.

Her beauty is real. She is beautiful. I just had to look.

I saw her in Africa, where she journyed away from video cameras...
she was beautiful.
I saw her in a crack house, where she replaced drugs for jealous love...
she was beautiful.
I saw her in a broken church, where she stopped pretending...
she was beautiful.
I saw her in a mosque, where she openly shared humility, and vulnerability...
she was beautiful.
I saw her in a broken marriage, where she said 'I'm sorry'...
she was beautiful.
I saw her in a seminary, where she wrestled with mystery...
she was beautiful.
And I saw her in a broken heart, where she offered true love...
she was beautiful.

I began to see her everywhere, because she is everywhere.

Isn't she beautiful?
Why is she beautiful?
Because she bleeds divine blood, and bled she has.

FFT

Woe to him who gets evil gain for his house
To put his nest on high,
To be delivered from the hand of calamity!
You have devised a shameful thing for your house
By cutting off many peoples;
So you are sinning against yourself.
Surely the stone will cry out from the wall,
And the rafter will answer it from the framework.

Woe to him who builds his realm by unjust gain
to set his nest on high,
to escape the clutches of ruin!
You have plotted the ruin of many peoples,
shaming your own house and forfeiting your life.
The stones of the wall will cry out,
and the beams of the woodwork will echo it.

Habakkuk 2: 9-11

Wednesday I'm not in love... in fact, I do care that it's gray...

D'you remember how Garfield had this constant moaning over Mondays (which, in retrospect, seems kind of odd, seeing as he's a cat, and doesn't work)? I am developing this about Wednesdays... wait, 'developing' would be an incorrect thing to say; perpetual presence of dread of Wednesdays is probably more accurate... the bane of my existence, the one morning of the week where I'm not excited about the upcoming day, the monkey on my back, the thorn in my flesh, the anti-raison d'etre...

Asians and Europeans

In earnest discussion with some folks today, trying to explain how my culture affects my faith and its manifestation and realized: Koreans are the Italians of Asia. They are loud, expansive, dynamic, opinionated, effusive and dramatic. One of my Japanese friends then pointed out that her people are the Germans of Asia; quiet, studious, organized. Wanting efficiency and order. Lacking humour. Between the two of us, though, we couldn't quite pinpoint who the Chinese would equate with. To avoid sounding racist, I am going to refrain from pointing out the particular cultural attributes, at least not until someone from that culture can point out a good equivalency...

Circus freak

You know what was very strange for me, thinking back over today? I had spoken to some people this afternoon about how, in their particular presence, I felt like a bit of a circus freak most of the time. It didn't just occur to me till a little while ago that nobody had said in reply something knee-jerk reflex-ish like, "Oh no, you're totally not", or something affirmative like, "You may be a little bit different, but we love you anyways", or something off the cuff like, "Yeah, you are -totally- a freak, you freak". Actually, I didn't actually get anything verbal in response. How strange.... is that normal, to leave someone hanging like that? To leave a statement like that hanging in the air, suspended in motion, leaving one vulnerable and open, and having nothing in response? Something tells me that it's not normal, that it's not the usual and humane response to have... strange how I didn't even notice it until several hours later... I suspect it's because I half-expected no response in the first place...

FFT

What the Doctor Said

He said it doesn't look good
he said it looks bad in fact real bad
he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before
I quit counting them
I said I'm glad I wouldn't want to know
about any more being there than that
he said are you a religious man do you kneel down
in forest groves and let yourself ask for help
when you come to a waterfall
mist blowing against your face and arms
do you stop and ask for understanding at those moments
I said not yet but I intend to start today
he said I'm real sorry he said
I wish I had some other kind of news to give you
I said Amen and he said something else
I didn't catch and not knowing what else to do
and not wanting him to have to repeat it
and me to have to fully digest it
I just looked at him
for a minute and he looked back it was then
I jumped up and shook hands with this man who'd just given me
something no one else on earth had ever given me
I may even have thanked him habit being so strong

-Raymond Carver

Bananas for guns...

http://www.thestar.com/article/193592
Sigh... this explains why I am trying very hard not to eat bananas, as convenient, tasty, and easy to make into bread as they are... this is also why I sometimes appear very sanctimonious on issues around food... and why it drives me (bananas, frankly) that people -need- to get bananas for under $0.49/lb...
The sad thing is, it barely made a blip on the stock market... boy, do I have more to say about that soon....

Talking to Americans

So over the past few months, I've made a determination to stop being racist against Americans. I think I've gotten tired of people saying that Americans are a dumb, red-necked, war-mongering, clueless, vacuous, obese, imperialistic peoples. I think it's sad that if we used the kinds of descriptors that we so callously use for Americans against any other peoples, we would easily be labelled as 'racist', but, for some reason, the same does not hold when we talk about our neighbours (can you imagine painting Somalians or Sri Lankans broadly as clueless, ignorant idiots, and developing TV shows to demonstrate that ignorance, as we do here to Americans?).
Now, I don't agree with everything that they do, nor do I agree with all their cultural values either. However, I don't think that that justifies endlessly poking fun at the specks in their eyes, when we've got plenty of logs ourselves, thank you very much....

Life imitating art?

I finally went and bought Vince's new book to read (as I had been hoping all this time that maybe I'd bump into him and get a personally autographed copy... hee hee), and just finished reading it the other night.
Well, wouldn't you know it! I encountered my first cord prolapse last night on call, the night after I had finished reading. Had to jump up and straddle that woman in the bed, hand wedged in to hold up that baby's head, rolling down the hallway on a stretcher, having to transfer with her onto the OR table, and just stuffing my hand in to keep the baby's head back... just like in the book... I thought that was kind of deja vu-ish (though I did think: gosh, at least there's an anesthetist here!)... certainly, by the time I got my hand out of there, I couldn't hold anything properly for about half an hour, but the adrenaline rush of cutting out a healthy baby despite that beats hurtling down a mountain anytime...

Happy International Women's Day

I find it hard to believe that we still need a day to uplift and raise awareness of the plight of women, and I do know that many men complain that there is no reciprocal day for them, but I suspect when the day comes that women no longer have to be slaves, trafficked, prostituted, raped, murdered, kidnapped, forced into poverty, infected with AIDS, left to bring up children alone, oppressed, silenced, tortured, genitally mutilated, cloistered, given off as child brides, afraid to walk the streets at night, labelled as whores or bitches, left defenceless and voiceless, blamed for the crimes committed against them, victimized and held back from the dignified position that they should have as our mothers and our sisters, then, I suppose, there won't be a need for any gender to have a special day anymore.
I must admit, I am quite tired of being labelled a 'feminist' amongst conservative evangelicals for simply believing maybe equality is something to be working towards, that maybe hierarchy just doesn't cut it amongst genders, for hierarchy it is, no matter how you slice it... even reading this makes me laugh, as most of the people I know who aren't con-evs would think it absolutely ludicrous that -I- could even remotely come close to being near the spectrum of feminism...
On the plus side, today I shook the hand of a Nobel Peace Prize nominee.... muchos, muchos gracias, Norma Cruz...

A Birthday Poem

My gosh, I was cleaning up my email inbox, and I had forgotten that my cousin had written this for me for my birthday... it still makes me laugh like stink... I just wanted it posted here for posterity...

Congrats! Happy Birthday! and all the best!
Because you're another year older and closer to death

Is this a day to be happy or a day to be sad?
Well, being another year older isn't that bad.

Gaining experience, being wiser, and growing closer to God
hmmm, don't know what to say next, but "3 peas in a pod"

So when you really think, 28 to 29 is just a small jump..
Just wait 'till you're 30 then you'll feel like a grump.

Thank You. ^__^

-Dennis

P.S. Happy B-day!

FFT

O Church arise, and put your armour on
Hear the call of Christ our Captain
For now the weak can say that they are strong
In the strength that God has given
With shield of faith and belt of truth
We'll stand against the devil's lies
An army bold whose battle-cry is Love
Reaching out to those in darkness

Our call to war - to love the captive soul
But to rage against the captor
And with the sword that makes the wounded whole
We will fight with faith and valour
When faced with trials on every side
We know the outcome is secure
And Christ will have the prize for which He died
An inheritance of nations

Come see the cross where love and mercy meet
As the Son of God is stricken
Then see His foes lie crushed beneath His feet
For the Conqueror has risen
And as the stone is rolled away
And Christ emerges from the grave
This victory march continues till the day
Every eye and heart shall see Him

So Spirit come, put strength in every stride
Give grace for every hurdle
That we may run with faith to win the prize
Of a servant good and faithful
As saints of old still line the way
Retelling triumphs of His grace
We hear their calls and hunger for the day
When with Christ we stand in glory

-K. Getty and S. Townend
(Thanks Ian!)

Every tribe, tongue, every nation

Speaking about community with a good friend almost a year ago now, there are, of course, many obstacles and barriers to make that happen in a viable way. Certainly, I could probably go on about the difficulty there is in finding it, in maintaining and nuturing it, etc.
However, there is greater hope in watching the people of God come together to worship. Even with all our faults, even with all our sins and fumblings. I must say, grooving out to Ugandan singers, vocalizing along with a Jamaican grandmother, and listening with rapt attention to an Indian speaker makes me say, "Wow! Our God is a great and good God!".
In contrast, I do wish the Church here in this corner of the globe would be less ethno-centric, would be more bold, would love more radically, would understand what self-denial really means... I think I can tolerate only so much in dinner parties where the conversation is about where we bought our jeans, or which movies we should go check out, or whether Britney Spears is truly crazy... I can only pray so much for myself as well...

Beauty in taxes

I had to go to Old City Hall the other day. It's funny; there are so many buildings in this city that you could walk by for years, but never actually enter into. It's fairly utilitarian now, but you could tell from the ornate ironwork on the stairwells that it likely once was as beautiful as it is on the outside.
What I could not believe was the waste of money on some of the justice system. Policemen dozing in seats, guarding, I'm not entirely sure what - perhaps their hats (shouldn't they be out catching criminals?)? People waiting hours to get a hearing on some small minor point of the law, losing hours at work and not getting very far. Civil servants (what a big surprise) not doing very much with their workday. Lawyers running in and out of courtrooms, trying to get several small claims going at the same time in different courtrooms.... it was definitely out of my regular sphere, that's for sure.

What a lotta hot... gas...

One of the major things I just cannot understand about humanity, and the media, is exemplified by how this so-called 'gas shortage' is being treated. The news is rife with people complaining about how the petroleum industry is 'cheating' people by increasing the price of gasoline and how panicked everyone is, driving around, trying to fill their tanks. Today, there even ran a story about how taxicab drivers are coping with the shortage, by keeping tabs on one another, and how they're being strategic in the fares they pick up. GIVE ME A BREAK!!!
What I find phenomenal, especially in light of all the hoo-haw that is (finally) being given to climate change, is how no connection is being made. How the fundamental questions of, "How are we going to cope with this when this REALLY happens, for real, when we run out of gasoline?", or even, "Geez, maybe we should wake up to the reality, and push for change in our reliance, nay, our addiction, to oil?" are being completely and utterly ignored. I suppose this is Postman's postulate on Amusing Ourselves to Death: our inability to see beyond the soundbite, our denial of holistic, integrative knowledge, our choosing to be distracted by the immediate and the concrete and what satisfies us NOW vs. what is of true import, of looking at the big picture, of refusing to be swayed by the latest gadget or gewgaw that is being talked about... sigh... it distresses me at how so very few evangelicals think about these things at all; I am so grateful for the handful that do...

Delaying the inevitable...

OK, to re-count, that would be FIVE 24-hour call shifts in TEN days... that is soooo wrong...
At any rate, I am starting to think about the notion that perhaps I should invest in snow tires... probably too late for this season... I keep on using the reasoning that I didn't die in three winters in Ottawa, so why should I get them now? Except for the facts that I got stuck in a snow drift the other day, and had to be punted out by a Jeep pushing my rear-end, and then came fairly close to veering into oncoming traffic several times this evening...

Night of the Living Dead

You know, doing four 24-hour calls in the space of seven days, is NOT FUN... it is, in fact, ANTI-FUN... it is the antithesis of fun, the converse of fun... boy, sometimes you wish the PAIRO rules were still in place...

FFT

In her 2005 book Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy,
historian Stephanie Coontz writes that our contemporary view of
marriage as the most pivotal relationship in our lives is a
development of the last century. Prior, the notion of favouring
marriage above all other bonds would have been considered hubris, a
betrayal of one's service to the public and extended family... Coontz
points to a study that suggests the time Americans spend socializing
with others outside the workplace has declined by almost 25 % since
1965. Free time is spouse time; let the world beyond the heath wait.
But fewer intimate relationships mean fewer people to lean on and more
pressure on marriages. No wonder they break.
-Katrina Onstad

I'm (kind of) ready for my close up...

So, I just narrowly missed being LIVE! on CBC Newsworld today. Really, the only thing that prevented me from being on TV was that I already had a clinic booked full of patients, so couldn't just drop everything just to get on television. But, this is already the second time I've missed getting on air, as some of you know. Not that that's terrible or anything, but it's weird getting requests from the media to expound my opinions as an "expert" (rolllll my eyes)... apparently, I've been able to pull it off fairly well, so far... :P

James talk

I am not entirely sure how skeptical I am becoming; perhaps it's because I'm fairly dense. I need to be smacked upside the head to notice what and how God answers prayers sometimes; I'm not exactly one for subtlety. That being said, if 'the prayers of a righteous man availeth much', and there are at least three pastors and a good dozen or so profoundly respected men of the Church all praying for the same thing, with no obvious answer, does that mean a) they're all not righteous? b) they're not praying? c) ALL their prayers in combination don't seem to be getting to those pearly gates?
None of those seem right to me. Yes, yes, I know the things you're supposed to say, "Sometimes, the answer is No, not Yes", or, "Maybe God is just working on His timing", or, "Maybe there has been an answer, and nobody's seen it yet"... Oiii. Something isn't entirely satisfying with that; like, when loved ones die, despite prayers of intervention and fasting petitions on our knees, we say simply that God said, "No".... that's IT???
Someone throw me a frickin' bone here...

Cultural minutiae

Three things that struck me since I've been home:
1. Ketchup bottles. I don't have to pay $0.20 for each small packet of ketchup that I want anymore.
2. Bathrooms actually in/on the premises of restaurants.
3. Water extravagance. I think (and hope) I'm going to be a bit more water savvy and conserving than I was before. I'd like to get one of those two-flush or low-flush toilets. One of the elderly people I had dinner with in Melbourne had a small bucket in her bathroom sink: all the water that was used to wash hands/brush teeth drained into that bucket, and then she would re-use it to water the plants in her house, instead of just letting it go down the drain. Because it is such a precious and increasingly scarce commodity in Australia, they are gradually starting to learn to steward it like the treasure that it is (not to say, of course, that they use water the way the majority of the planet does, but I think they are more aware of water wastage compared to most of the West). In even the very small ways that I have seen them carefully use water (turning off the shower while soaping up, never using warm or hot water laundry washes, turning the tap on only after they have soaped up their hands to rinse only, not washing their cars or watering their lawns) have been subtle, but, as we all know, small individual ripples can become a tidal wave...

The Emperor's Story

I had to give myself a huge reality check when I opened my closet; I was actually really quite excited to see the selection of clothes that I had come back to... as I had basically worn the same two T-shirts and the same pair of pants for several weeks. This lasted a little bit, scampering around in my finery, until I stopped dead in my tracks: most people in this world are lucky to even have a change of clothing. Many people that I have seen and worked with in India and Africa would likely die of shock to see how well stocked my closets and drawers are filled... especially down on the riverbanks where they wash their clothes, when they get the opportunity, only when it's really necessary... Well, that certainly put a bit more of a sobering reality to my scads of shirts and skirts and pants and socks and wraps and coats and sweaters and...

Australia VIII

Right, the animals here... the following animals I have seen within 1-3m of myself since I've been here and in the wild (in the wild, of course, as I really had a hard time endorsing seeing animals only within the confines of zoos and tourist spots):
Kookaburra, possum (2 species), bats, koala, kangaroo (at least 3 different species), wombat, wallaby (2 species), stingray, dolphins, sealions, seals, echidna, emu, penguins, um, I think that's it... unfortunately, no sharks...

Things I've learned in Australia

1. Centring your day around a pint of milk makes it interesting
2. Eating endangered species leaves one in very awkward social situations
3. Being a dingo eating a baby is not very nice, even if it's imaginary
4. Why are you crying?/Why are you crying?/Please open your eyes
5. Stuff that is burnt-to-a-crisp is totally not cool, irrespective of what it is...
6. Wombats are totally cute, and seeing animals in the wild is much more satisfying than in a conservation park...
7. Game shows leave one with a feeling of being a bit... unsatisfied...
8. Kangaroos can eviscerate you if they get really pissed off.
9. Celebrating and supporting local produce is very cool.
10. I love Tassie!

Tasmania

This is a little piece of heaven; it reminds me of New Zealand in some senses. Forests and rivers and mountains... beautiful local produce, celebrating the bounty that they are able to create, not just in food and wine, but also in craft and art... I believe about a third of its landmass is World Heritage/UNESCO protected... sigh... gorgeous here... great food and drink... nice people.... the weather would be good, if I hadn't thought, "Gee, it's summer vacation, I'm only going to bring one pair of pants"... not so smart when the summer weather down here, at least this week was running around 16-19C and dropping to 10C at night... :P

Australia VII

So, a few more observations:
1. There are a heck of a lot of Germans in this country; most days it feels like half the country is here. They think so too...
2. One of the great things here is that the price that is listed is the price that you pay: all taxes, tip, etc are included in the price. This works well in that you don't have to calculate an extra 30% onto your resto meals. It's also great in that they actually pay waitstaff a decent wage (starting at about $15/hr), so they aren't dependent on tips to actually make a living.... sounds like an ideal world...
3. There's a, I'm not sure how to say it, not really an undercurrent, but more of a 'whisper in the woodwork' of racism in Australian society, I feel. I know, now people are going to get all over me about how judgemental I am. I think there are societal and cultural reasons why this is so. I am certainly not saying that Canadians are non-racist in comparison, but there is certainly more of an undertone here... I will likely end up mulling about this some more, and I think it would be hard to explain... perhaps the language, in naming their Aboriginal peoples the 'blacks', or how hard one group in Australia is trying to deport Sudanese refugees back to Darfur because they bring violence and diseases here (?), or how blokes will just say things to you that make you go 'hunh???'.... anyways, all very subtle, which is why I can't say it's overt, perhaps just a small subconscious undercurrent.... maybe I need to think about this some more...

Australia VI

So, I can now say that I am capable of driving on both sides of the road, though I still can't drive stick. I can now make wide right turns, and instinctively walk to the right side of the car to get into it. After having driven about 2000km (and another whole state to go), I think I can say that is the case....
That being said, I still think the North American way of driving makes more sense: if I forget something in my purse, my right hand is still free to rummage around in the bag, answer the phone, make some calls, grab a snack, etc.... the way they drive on the left, it forces me to drive safely and legally (the nerve! :P )!
As you may not be aware, Australia is the world's driest continent, and has been in fairly severe drought this past year (I'm not sure how it compares to years previous, or if it's compounding previous years, but it is significant). Most of the places we've been have been on water restrictions, or severe water restrictions. You can see it in the land; most of it has been clearly parched, with dry, brittle, brown landscapes. It clearly is landscape waiting for bushfires. In fact, most of the state we've just arrived from has been having a dilly of a time fighting bushfires throughout the state. This has resulted in some power outages in several cities.
You can also see it in the waterfalls, lakes and rivers: most of these waterfalls we have been looking at have been no more than small trickles coming down the sides of cliff faces, and many of these large rivers have been no more than small streams, and some have dried up entirely.
Speaking of bushfires, I was watching the "Kangaroo Creek Gang", which is an Aussie Saturday cartoon about, unsurprisingly, a group of animals, including a kangaroo, emu, koala, possum and wombat. Today's story was about fire, and how fire is never your friend, and you should never light one, and you should always stamp one out when you see one. It was actually a bit scary, and very strange in terms of the teaching reality that this is what they need to tell Aussie kids....

Australia V

A few cool things of note:
1. Got tickets to see the opera in the Sydney Opera House. That was cool, though I must admit, the inside's not much to talk about...
2. Went to Hillsong Church for a couple of services. My, I understand why they sell so many worship music CDs; it is pretty kicking! Encouraging and refreshing services, and totally cool meeting people who are onto God...
3. Had some terrible delicious Shiraz and tried a new one I'd never heard of before: Verdelho, which was so good, I'm actually disappointed I didn't buy a whole dozen instead of just a bottle...

Australia IV

In the interest of saving some coinage, my sibling decided that for some of our travels we would stay with people within six-degrees-of-separation, that is, people that we don't know personally, but that somehow are connected to her network, eventually, in some way.
This has recently caused me some great anguish as we ended up in some guy's house that had several legions of various biting insects (and cockroaches to boot): I'm not entirely sure what they were: fleas? bedbugs? midges? mozzies? Despite that, they had been eating me alive and I am totally distressed by the state of my legs: I honestly don't think they'll ever look normal again, as the scarring and discolouration from all the attacks have left them looking like I have leprosy (seriously: I took pictures).
I had no idea how relatively vain I was until I started swelling up purple and brown with welts all over my legs and not being able to put on my shoes anymore...

Soap box/Fruit box

OK, I gotta say something about this, only because it has to do with food justice. Here, I've noticed backpackers complaining about the prices for fruits and veg. I have, however, noticed how almost their entire fruit and veg supply is from Australia. Certainly, they are blessed by having such climates and growing areas that they can grow everything that we can in North America, but also can grow tropical vegetation as well. This allows them to be able to be almost entirely self-sufficient in growing their own food supply; that is very cool.
However, with that comes the fact that they then have to pay the 'real' prices for produce, as they have to pay Australian wages for Australian goods. For example, bananas sell for about $4/kg regularly. However, during their growing season, terrible hurricanes hit the banana growing regions of Australia, and, for a while, bananas cost about $15/kg, as that was the true market cost for bananas. Apples are about $5-6/kg, lettuce is about $2-3 a head, etc...
I have got to say: at least this is food justice, in terms of paying close to the true price for foodstuffs. It then alarms me, that if Australians are paying this much for local foods, then how do we justify paying the Venezuelans less than $0.39/lb for bananas?

Australia III

A curious thing that I've noted is that Australian restaurants have an aversion to having a toilet. There's lots of public ones, to be sure, but it's rare to have one -in- the resto, to wash your hands, etc... it's a little bit disconcerting...
One thing that I have noticed is that Australia is quite... I'm not sure how to put it... perhaps, American-ish, but that's not a fair thing to say at all, and certainly not even close to what I'm trying to evoke. However, one thing that I have noticed is that Americans tend to love Australia, and Canadians tend to love New Zealand (of which I'd have to confess, I'm one of those)... I think there's a lot of culture and environment which play into that, which I won't go into here... but certainly it's quite the different vibe than the Godzone...

Australia II

My bad: it's actually just the state of Queensland that doesn't agree with DST, out of sheer concern for cows, not the whole country.
Also, for those of you who are concerned: I did DRIVE by Steve Irwin's zoo, but we didn't actually go in. Also, FYI, his daughter Bindi, who is now eight years old (you remember her, she's the baby that was dangled in front of the croc a few years ago), now is hosting her own jungle show on TV. In fact, in today's paper, there's a contest where you win a day with her at the Crocodile Hunter's Zoo... I dunno, something just doesn't sit right with me, seeing as her dad died less than five months ago...
At any rate, I was going to say that one of my new favorite animals is the wombat. It's terribly cute. It's one of the very few animals that won't kill/eat/bite/poison you here (in fact, it's quite cuddly looking). I've been warned not to get into knee-deep water, because sharks can still get you there. Then I was warned not to go into ankle deep water, because there are certain poisonous octopi that can still sting you at that depth. Then I was warned not to step in the water, because I could slip and fall... then I was told to make sure that I was making enough noise WALKING so that snakes could get out of the way... oh, for crying out loud... at this rate, I likely won't get very far, or will die trying...

Australia I

One curious thing that I've noticed, the more I've seen cities in the developed world, is how darned similar they are to one another. There's always a "St Lawrence Market", a "Bay Street", a "Yonge Street", a "Richmond Street", the "gaybourhood", a "Yorkville", etc etc etc... it's a bit disconcerting. Admittedly, here in Brisbane, it's not exactly a tourist destination by any stretch of the imagination (it is, however, a hub to get to other beach and surf destinations on the North coast, and is also home to Steve Irwin's Zoo, which I will NOT be going to... crikey!). It is very much, a city for locals to live and work in, I guess like a Hamilton, or a Windsor.
Another curious thing here: apparently all of Australia does not participate in Daylight Savings Time (there was previously a big debate about it, but people were concerned about confusing the cows, so they opted not to change it(??) ). So, in the midst of the summer, the sun is down by 7pm(!), but up by 5am(!!!), which makes it a bit hard to sleep in, when the kookaburras are already singing by 4:30 in the morning (kind of reminds me of the roosters in Mizoram...)

Beam me up, Scottie

Could someone puh-leeeeese make me a Star Trek Transporter? I completely don't understand how people regularly make the trek between Toronto and Hong Kong... it's enough to make one go mad. Certainly, small graces, like being transferred to an aisle seat in the bulkhead (yes! Possibly one of the most comfortable trans-Pacific crossings I've done, though it's not actually saying much, since I still wasn't horizontal) made things a little bit more tolerable, but it's still quite something, sitting still for 15+ hrs, trying to prevent DVTs like mad...
Have seen some bats and ibises, but not much else, as I'm trying to get accustomed to the hour still...

Urbana

So, those smart folk from Urbana have already got some AV streaming from the conference... boy, have I got envy, but good envy! So happy for Francis, Jimmy, Eileen, Steph, etc etc etc who are over there! Go kids go!

An Xmas Carol

You know, I got all teary-eyed hearing the CBC's narration of A Christmas Carol on the radio this year (not such a great thing to do when one is driving), but I can't shake the vague "Scrooginess" that I get every Christmas. Maybe it's because there's no snow. Maybe it's because Jesus was born in the summertime, and Saturnalia is really not a festival we should be appropriating. Maybe it's because I want to vomit any time I get near a mall for the whole month of December (and most of November). Maybe it's because every symbol that we hold dear at this sentimental time of year, really has nothing to do with the Magnificent, Terrible and Awesome Event that occurred. It has nothing to do with getting together with family (with +/- squabbling), eating way more than is necessary, gift-giving, beautiful trees (though I do like them very very much), big fat elves, rampant consumerism and debt, running around trying to 'see' everybody that you're supposed to over the holidays, drinking too much, too much chocolate, reindeer with sleighbells and red noses, roasted chestnuts, and the whole sentimentality of going 'home for the holidays'.... The Holy Family were actually homeless shortly after they came together....
How did all this mess that we call Christmas come from a dirty, smelly manger of an apparent bastard, refugee child, born in manure, surrounded by illiterate shepherds and foreign, non-Jewish religious men, yet having the heavens singing and dancing for joy for the Saviour had been born? How did we become so syncretistic?
Certainly, I LOVE Christmas trees, and I quite like chocolate, and wine, for that matter (and eating, and parties, and the cocooning we do this time of year). But I wonder: Why do I run like mad, trying to achieve I'm-not-entirely-sure-what, when really, I miss Advent entirely year after year, and the Event that makes the season is -almost- (note I say almost, not is) secondary to the rest? Why do I not fall down and worship in the manure and the hay, and say, The Anointed One, The Ancient of Days, YHWH Himself has brought Himself here, and lament and love the fact that He has chosen to lie, squalling in a feedpen, as wretched as we? Isn't that what Christmas is all about?

The great Q

So, it's finally over now: the hour long commutes, the amazing and gifted speakers, the piles of homework (OK, that's not completely done yet, but it's happening)... but it was totally worth it! Enough so that we'll do it again next fall! Holy cannolli, I am convinced that we could start a small earthquake if we do it again downtown, so downtown we shall go! Warning to all thinking and sentient beings, as I am sure that you need to come along too!

FFT

I'm not sure where she found the poem, but I just thought I'd link it; impressive work from such a young man...
http://lisachildofgod.blogspot.com/2006/11/stand-people-of-west.html

Representin'...

So I was talking with some friends about the Disney Princesses line. One girl, in fact, STILL loves the Princesses line. You know, the whole Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella are all friends thing, so that little girls everywhere will buy all the purses/underwear/dresses/toys/DVDs/etc etc etc that Disney can possible push out of China...
At any rate, we realized some discrepancies... certainly, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella are the highest echelon princesses, the triumvirate, the ultimate trinity of princessdom... but then you throw in Ariel (The Little Mermaid) and Belle (Beauty and the Beast) and it starts looking a little whitewash, if you ask me....
We did concede the fact that Disney has wisely thrown in Mulan, Pocahontas and Princess Jasmine to represent the yellow people, the aboriginal peoples and the brown people, but a black friend of mine wisely pointed out, "And who do they have to represent the black people? All I've got is Nala, and she's a LION!!!! I've got no representation!"
So, hence the problem: Five white girls, one from each other minority group, and the black people represented by an animal... is there something here that nobody else has noticed?

Look both ways before crossing the street...

Again, I think safety sometimes is highly over-rated. Case in point: just got a big lecture of why would I consider going to the Middle East, if I'm just going to get bombed/kidnapped/raped, or all three at the same time? That would certainly put a damper on any trip, I am sure. "You know, that time in Bagdhad? Remember the way we were pistol-whipped and blindfolded and left out in the desert? Yeah, that kind of sucked... but at least the falafels were good... "
However, if we are convicted that people are lost, and there's only One Way to help them out of the quagmire, then safety should not be our greatest concern, nor our greatest goal.
Now, this is partially sheer bellicosity on my part, as I myself lack great courage and great conviction and quite like the common Western comforts of home. As CT Studd once said, "Some wish to live within the sound of a chapel bell, I wish to run a rescue mission within a yard of hell." Wow.
I know some well-meaning people try to make me feel comfortable in my skin, saying it's OK to be blessed by God and it's OK to appreciate His massive blessings as long as I use them wisely, but I wonder how much of that, in our drowsiness and spiritual stupor, is simply us drinking at Belshazzar's feast, awaiting the writing on the wall?

Bookworms

OK, I just measured the stack of books that I've bought, just over the past few months: it now stands over a metre high....

Jerks, and other pieces of excrement...

People often wonder why I'm not totally psyched about my job, waking up each morning (that I actually go to work) thinking, "Gee whiz! I'm going to work! How excited I am in being in the midst of God's will for my life!", that I seem a bit non-committal, or less than enthused, about the nature of my job.
The reasons are manifold, and not necessarily just because I don't like my work; that's not actually true at all.
However, case in point: Got threatened with a lawsuit (again!) because someone had a cold and I refused (in my medical opinion) to give him the antibiotics he craved; was told I was a "clown" and "not worth my medical degree", and that, if he shows up in clinic tomorrow still sick, then I will be looking at the commencement of a lawsuit, which, makes me mad, but also makes me roll my eyes, since there's really nothing that holds water.
Or my colleague, when dealing with a patient who didn't agree with her diagnosis, questioned her along the lines of, "Your medical education is worthless! Where'd you get it? China?" which (I don't blame her; she's normally a very nice girl) made her blow her top.
Or the fact that I had to call CAS (again!) for idiotic parents who have no right to be raising children, shouldn't even be allowed the privilege to have any, should be publicly sterilized and sent away to some penal colony where they will always leave children alone, and can never inflict themselves on children ever again.
All in one day; it wrecks all the other lovely people and interactions that happen the rest of the day...

Though there is always light at the end of the tunnel...

You know what is truly tragic? When there are folks who love each other a helluva lot, but, for whatever reason(s), just aren't able to make things work this side of eternity...

Bread, not circuses

It's kind of nice when someone understands your point of view and doesn't think you're a total Scrooge for being anti-OCC. But, hey, anti-OCC I am, and in discussion with said understanding-type person, I think I've refined my reasoning for being so, so for that, I am grateful.

The dance card

You know, having to turn down a chef is almost heart-breaking, when you think of all the potentially delicious things that could be made for you to be eaten... bah

Prophecies and lies...

There has recently been a lot of discussion around the issue of same sex marriage lately; whether it's good or bad for society, whether we should or shouldn't be bringing it back to the House for another round of talks, whether or not the sky has fallen, as some had surely predicted, since the legislation has passed...
I remember also having several relatively heated discussions at the last election as to my electoral preferences, as, for some, the election was a one horse issue, mainly having to do with sexual morality. Forget climate change, forget child care, forget education or health care: the issue was that of sexual mores.
So, having been brought back to the fore again, it just makes me shake my head.
I think the issue that really is at core is that of reactivity vs proactivity. Personally, I think that we should've been proactive twenty, thirty years ago, as it was an issue already germinating and percolating around that point in time. How much more of an impact can we make in changing and shaping culture, rather than simply reacting to it, reacting to something that was already there, and is simply doing its logical dénouement?
I am not surprised that evangelicals, especially on the fundamentalist side of things, are losing ground to some of the more loosey-goosey teaching. It really is too bad, surely, as it seems that there is a shift to what 'tickles men's ears', rather than solidly standing on the Word. However, in not being responsive to society, in keeping blinkers on and not seeing where culture is going, where it is at, how can we respond in hope and compassion? If we cannot be relevant, how can we legitimately have a voice?
I would like to shape culture, to envision and change the course the history, rather than wait for something to happen and have a tantrum that I didn't see it coming... anybody with me?

Sugared plum dreams...

Walking through the bookstore, and, surprisingly/stunningly not emerging with a new book in hand, I realized I could probably start listing some wishes... this is completely self-serving, and not meant to be taken seriously, especially as I'm not much of a believer in the allegorical value of Christmas presents...

Anton Conbijn's U2 & i (what a big surprise; no need to list any of the other relatively new books on the market, as I've already bought them all, sheepishly)
Martha Stewart's (are you serious? Yes!) Baking Handbook
Stephen Lewis' Race against Time
John Stackhouse's Finally Feminist

Well, those are all I can think of in this moment...

Let them eat cake...

I'm never really quite sure how comfortable I should be with being too bourgeois. Case in point: went to the Royal Horse Show the other day, which encompasses harness racing and show jumping, all jodphurs and jingles. Went in formal dress too, because we were asked to. Felt a bit silly doing so, until I noticed that everyone in our section was completely decked out. But then felt a bit silly again, when realizing we were basically the only minority peoples in the whole stadium.
It felt, I don't know, bourgeois. Like all tea and crumpets and God save the Queen and tut tut and opera glasses and tiaras and oh darling, look at the poor plebecites and all that. Though it was really cool to watch the horses jump around and do all that stuff, it was a bit strange trying to reconcile whether it was right. Certainly, admiring the ability of man to demonstrate dominion over these beautiful beasts is one thing, however, the inherent undemocracy (is that even a word?) of the sport left us scratching our heads a bit.

seeking the welfare of that belle ville...

I couldn't quite put a finger on it, until someone pointed out to me: There is an oppressiveness palpable in the streets of Montreal. I think one can see it in the despair of the eastern stretch of St Catherine, which boasts even more sex shops than even Yonge St could even handle. The "someone" is a missionary friend of mine who works in city of Montreal, having been called there years ago due to the appalling lack of light. He says when he gets the opportunity to come home to Toronto, which isn't often, he can feel the blessing that "Toronto the Good" has, which refreshes him and helps him go back into the battlefield. I think I could understand and relate to that, listening to his perspective on the spiritual barrenness of that province... it calls for more 'knee-mail'...

FFT

(Though it's a film-based, not a text-based, FFT.)
http://www.sermonspice.com/search/%22heart+of+God%22/all/1/
Watch the first one. Though I'm sure the other one is just fine too. :)

... and I feel (kinda) fine...

So it's official: Fish scientists confirm that, at the rate that we are going, global fish stocks will collapse (ie. no more sushi anymore, ever) by 2048. Climatologists state that we have, at the very latest, until 2050 before irreversible changes in our atmosphere occur, if we are not almost there yet. Population growth academics believe we will hit 7 billion people on this planet by about 2020. This fact seems a bit strange to me, considering HIV scientists speak of the plague and scourge of HIV/AIDS, killing tens of thousands by the day, infecting thousands around the planet daily. Most secular scientists now agree that we are heading towards irreversible destruction and possible extinction, likely within our (but not the baby boomers, who happen to be most of the scientists, and thus, won't be around, the lucky punks) lifetimes.
On the plus side, missiologists speak of how we are very close to telling the good news to all nations, also possibly within our lifetimes (whether we shall catch up with the millions infected with HIV/AIDS to be able to speak hope into their lives is a completely other issue). This is amazing (and admittedly scary) news.
Personally, I think this points to several obvious conclusions, though it is odd: speaking to some sisters the other day, one vehemently disagreed with me... which left me scratching my head...