Iced Tea Forever

Recently I had the occasion to attend a church business meeting. My, how I do not enjoy them. And this one lasted longer than most. I was starting to lose control. I began slouching, then hunching over, twisting this way and that, sitting up, yawning, and wished I had brought my book.

I had brought a pen for ballot-casting purposes, and it turned out to be a lifesaver. I had a sheaf of handouts, so I culled a piece of paper from the stack and attacked it with my pen.

And now you get to enjoy another one of my rare artistic masterpieces.

I’m not sure how to begin analyzing this work of art. I’m fairly confident, however, that the violence of the piece is the fruit of my frustration that night.

You’ll notice that one of the men fleeing from the impending carnage is labeled with the name “Justin.” One of the youth guys showed up that night with a shaved head, so I thought adding a bald dude was a nice touch. This shows how your current environment and surroundings influences your art.

Speaking of bald dudes, here’s a shot of him and his dubious companions after their hair-razing experience. My goodness, I do have a knack for photo-realism in my sketchings.

Notice the exquisitely complex shadings which enhance the perspectives and lend a certain elegance and mystique to the portrait. Shading techniques such as these contribute a varying scale of dimensions, bringing the subject to life in such a degree as to make it jump right off the canvas!

If you closely inspect the residential structure depicted in the illustration, you may notice that the contractor evidently threw away his level and plumbline when he built it. What does this say to you? To me, it speaks of hidden good in tragedy. There usually is some small measure of good to be found in unfortunate circumstance. For instance, judging by the leaning of the structure this may by now have been a rundown shack, a ramshackle cabin needing to be dozed anyway. Perhaps now the owner could collect insurance for its destruction.

Or the crookedness could just be an aspect that lent character and personality to the home. A sentimental idiosyncrasy that warmed the hearts of the residents. In that case, I don’t know what good could come from such misfortune.

The obvious Biblical theme in this masterpiece takes one by surprise, as it’s one that seems to be generally overlooked by today’s artists. There were giants in the land. There is a huge vacuum in this theme, just waiting to be filled.

All the sophisticated artistic techniques I used on this piece really have but one goal; to convey emotion. And I must admit with all humility that I knocked this one out of the park. There’s an underlying homespun warmness enveloping the aura of this drawing, despite the terror and panic that seem to predominate. The stately tree speaks of solidarity and steadfastness, the subjects in desperate motion speak of physical fitness, the giant speaks of domination and domineering overpowerment, the skewed structure speaks of laziness and shoddy workmanship and the worthwhileness of being diligent in quality craftsmanship, and so on. The list is endless.

But you can’t be over-analytical and reduce the interpretation of art to a science. It’s a matter of the heart — what does this work say to you? How does it move your inner being? There’s no denying the evocative emotion that it captures, so how does it move your spirit?

There’s an answer for everyone.

Glenn Beck has become my favorite talk show host of all time, and I’ll tell you why.

The other day he was ranting about air conditioning, and it was fabulous. How it’s been so hot you know, and his wife keeps wanting to go outside but all he wants to do is stay in the air conditioned indoors! And that how mankind inventing air conditioning is basically the reason that we rule the world instead of lions or squirrels.

You know, he said, if squirrels had invented AC then maybe I’d be running on their porch rail instead of the other way around.

He’s extremely funny. He’s excellent at taking a slightly ridiculous notion and bringing out the male truth in it and turning it into a brilliant rant.

And when he is addressing a serious issue, he’s a man of logic and reason and common sense. Good for him, and good for me now that I can listen.

Update: Now that was an error! I forgot to link to GlennBeck.com. Thank you Kaitlyn.

I’ve been meaning to publish a dissertation on professional sports for some time now. Perhaps this day before the super bowl is the perfect opportunity.

As a former athlete, I enjoy participating in athletic activities and even observing athletic events. But our society’s obsession with sports continues to spiral downward to ever-new depths of asininity!

Keeping things in perspective is a lost trait. The way otherwise seemingly-sane people carry on and get worked up and display ridiculous paraphernalia and shout and scream over something so insignificant is a disgrace to the human race. Give me a break. The amount of time and effort and memorization and money and everything else they pour into something with so little returning redeeming value is sickening.

Not just the population in general, but my friends, nay, even many of my own family! have succumbed to this juvenile condition. Very sad.

Now don’t get me wrong, I myself enjoy the occasional athletic conflict. I like to watch NFL games, though it’s probably been 3 years since I’ve seen one. Speaking of which, I suppose I should talk about tomorrow’s game a little. Being from the Pacific Northwest, I of course would like to see the Seattle Mariners win, even though the Cincinnati Steelers are Rush Limbaugh’s team. But either way, it really doesn’t affect my day-to-day life.

And I think that is the key! You people who get so worked up if your team wins or loses, what does it matter?! How does it affect your life?!! Really!

Let me give you a personal example. When I was a small child (maybe 10-14), I was obsessed with the Portland Trail Blazers. I listened to every game I could on the radio, hanging on to every word. Wins made me ecstatic, losses plunged me into depression. Then one day (as I had begun growing up, is that another key?), I had the illuminating thought, “You know, why does it matter so much? What does it really matter? How in the world does this affect my life in any meaningful way?”

Wisdom beyond the years, evidently.

My athletic philosophy can be summed up in two words. Write it down, learn it, love it, live it. Here it is:

Who Cares.

That’s right, who cares. Your team winning the world championship doesn’t affect your life at all. Big deal. And if they go on a 300-game losing streak, so what. Doesn’t affect you in any way. Your life remains unscathed.

The next time you’re tempted to give way to those infantile tantrums or immature revelry, remember the Official ITF Athletic Philosophy. You’ll find a refreshing freedom and gentle abandonment in its subtle wisdom.

Who Cares.

I set out here with a certain amount of trepidation or apprehension. Publicly criticizing one’s own church is a rather bold move and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. It’s easy to criticize and it’s easy to whine but quite often it’s inappropriate. So if you’re going to stick your neck out to such a degree you’d better be right and it better be important.

I am and it is.

Our ushers ignore anyone seated up front behind the pulpit. Whether passing out papers or taking up the offering, if you’re up front on the platform you might as well forget it. No papers for you, and just keep your money.

I grew up being trained by example that as an usher you always courteously extend the plate to the service participants seated on the platform before you begin harvesting from the congregation. That’s just good, right, polite, and proper. The gents on stage are people too, and they also have contributions for the church coffers!

You may say, if someone is going to be up on the platform when the offering is taken he can just give his tithe to his wife to put in the basket. That may be an occasional solution, but this morning I was attending services alone! My wife wasn’t there! Now what?! (She worked last night.)

And the time before I did give it to her but she isn’t completely used to being married yet evidently. She put it in my Bible which I then carried up front! Oops! The money counters had a good laugh at us after church.

This is a real concern. Preachers, song leaders, and Sunday school superintendents could theoretically just get tired of being ignored by the ushers and decide that you know what, I guess they don’t want my tithe! They never want to take it from me so maybe I’ll just leave it at home!

And what would happen to the church if the leadership were forced to such an attitude?! Leadership by example; soon the offerings would plummet, financial ruin would ensue, dissolution would be imminant! All because of improperly trained ushers!

Maybe we should institute an Usher Training Progam and ramrod all our ushers and potential ushers through it. Come next business meeting I think I’ll propose establishing a committee to study the feasibility of authorizing the development of a council to look into commissioning a board to fashion a suitable training program. Once our conference would see the incredible success of this solution to our widespread problem, I’m sure we could get the UTP’s in our sister churches and our Bible schools and put an end to this epidemic.

But as for now if you ever visit my church and want to avoid the collection plate, come on up and sit behind the pulpit!

Today I violated my conscience.

And I didn’t just bend or fracture it, I shattered it. I guess I really made it worth my while.

I feel bad about it, of course, but at the same time I’m struggling with the notion that I was manipulated somewhat by circumstances. That I was maybe justified in doing it because of threatened retribution.

But how important do you consider your convictions if you cave and they topple at the first sign of opposition? They certainly aren’t growing stronger! Tribulation certainly isn’t working patience!

And this was something I have stood up valiantly for in the past, triumphantly even. It’s something I hold dear to my heart, I’ve nurtured a great passion for it for many years.

But this time I was strongly opposed, I was informed in no uncertain terms what the consequences would be. And the consequence would have been disciplinary action at work, to some degree putting my job in jeapardy.

Does that mean my job is more important to me than my conviction? I cry “no,” but the evidence says “yes.” I don’t know what to think.

For years I have passionately stood up for mankind’s inborn right to have Saturday’s off work. Shouldn’t even be a question, you get Saturday off no matter what. I fondly remember many an affirming conversation I had in years past with Mrs. Darling’s brother about this God-given right of all men. We vehemently agreed that 8 hours a day was enough and Saturdays were off limits.

The Den of Iniquity has been going through very difficult times lately. Production has been greatly hindered by varied and sundry obstacles, and overtime has shot through the roof. Rarely does management demand that we work a Saturday, and if they do it’s usually only until noon.

Not so today. They demanded attendance, and they demanded a full production day. What they got was a day’s production in about a day and a half’s production time. It was almost evening before I finally punched out (we begin at 6 a.m.), this was the longest day I had ever logged in service for the Den on Iniquity.

So anyway, that’s why I’m struggling with body, mind, spirit, and emotions.

A few days ago at the Den of Iniquity I worked with my buddy Juan. We usually don’t work together, but that day he was helping up in cabinet set so we were in the same vicinity. Unlike many of my Mexican co-workers, Juan speaks excellent English.

We were discussing our quota for the day, and he asked me how many more units we had left to do. I replied that I didn’t know, but there were enough left that we’d be at work till the cows came home.

“Till the cows come home! What does that mean?!!” He laughed.

Never thought about that before. I said, I don’t know, a long time!

I don’t know what that means. I guess the farmer turns the cows out and they don’t come home until the end of the day maybe.

The cows eventually did come home, but it seems they’ve been staying out longer every day.

My recent post about credit cards seems to have stirred no small amount of dismay, apprehension, disbelief, and anxiety. Perhaps I should clarify the issue further.

So finally I was being approved by the big guns. Not long after this began to take place, I acquired my first Discover card. I was excited about this, because what two words are synonymous with Discover??! Cash back!!!

Yes, the more you spend the more you make! In my quest for cash back, I freely used my Discover Platinum whenever I could. I did build up the cash back too.

Recently I acquired a Mastercard that also offers cash back. Discover occasionally has promotions where they offer up to 5% back on things like gas, education, or whatever the promotion is about. But this new Mastercard generously contributes 5% on gas and groceries all the time! I love it! I use it constantly!

So not only are we saving massive amounts by using the credit card (remember, all they want is $15 a month!), but they’re donating cold hard cash just to sweeten the deal even more!! Amazing!

Credit cards have a bad reputation (for some reason, I’m not sure why), so I can understand the hysterics. But I think if you reconsider your preconceived biases and thoughtfully contemplate what I have presented, you’ll realize that credit cards offer those of us at poverty level an opportunity to put our financial lives on the fast track to success!

I love credit cards. They are so wonderful and convenient. When I was a kid (early twenties) I had a terrible time getting my first one though, it was a mess. Everybody sent me apps, but nobody would approve me. Slackers.

Finally, some pathetic company gave me a very sad little Mastercard. It wasn’t worth much as far as credit limit, but it got me started with a credit record. And before too long I began to get approved by the big boys!

But this first little card introduced me to the wonderful benefits of buying stuff with plastic! I soon figured out that I could spend several hundred dollars in a month, and all they wanted in return was FIFTEEN DOLLARS!! Amazing! Where do you go to beat that?!

I added other, better cards to my collection. I eventually ditched my first one, it was really pathetic and they wouldn’t upgrade it much. With the smokin’ powerhouse cards I have now, the purchasing power available to me is unbelievable.

I got another new one a few months ago, and it had a sticker on it that said “Use it wisely.” Oh, I do. Trust me. I’ve given this area a lot of thought. When I go out to eat I just put the bill on my card and it’s like eating for free. I honestly can’t remember the last time I paid for gas with cash. Groceries, car insurance, I only wish my landlady took Mastercard!

I just don’t understand people who pay with cash or check. I could never afford to do that! I hate paying full price for stuff, it’s a no-brainer! Paying with plastic is like always getting an 80% discount!

Especially now that I’m married. We’ve been hit with some pretty hefty bills (with a few more right around the corner) and if it wouldn’t have been for my substantial collection of credit cards, we’d have been sunk.

Update: Additional Illumination

Here’s a piece of art from my past that I came across a little while ago. In my life, I have primarily focused my artistic aspirations into music (singing) and the occasional poetic masterpiece. Before I realized those artistic forms were my calling, however, I flirted with the occasional colored pencil or felt marker sketch.

As you can readily ascertain, I had an amazing amount of raw talent and ability. I could have used a small amount of guidance to channel my gift, but the natural aptitude is undeniable.

Note how I used life issues that resonated with me as the theme for my art. It’s certainly hard to go wrong with that approach, isn’t it.

Also note the innovative position and use of light source. Light rays twist and point in concentric directions, giving an uncanny retro effect without losing the distinctively modernistic feel.

The unique block style signature is certainly uncommon. Notice how I had the instincts to create my own distinctive flair, indicating personality and pizzazz.

One of the more impressive things I noticed in re-examining this particular work are the slight scale inconsistencies. They are extremely effective at creating a subtle tension. The degree to which the proportions are skewed indicate the effect is decidedly intended. A bright observer cannot help but wonder “What was the artist thinking? What thoughts, ideas, and emotions is he attempting to convey?”

Many years have passed since the day the ink dried on this particular canvas, so I can’t say for sure what I was hinting at. I do believe there to be a high likelihood, however, that I was probably expressing apprehension and slight misgivings about growing up in such a big world. Where would I fit? How would I survive? What was my calling? Where was my place? In my courageous pre-pubescent idealism, I answered these heavy questions with “Just let me drive fast cars and I’ll be fine!”

And give me a very disturbingly-curved face.

Idealist that I was, still I could recognize there would be significant difficulties and problems that would eventually need to be faced. The color and consistency of the emissions suggest alarming and high-cost engine problems were in the very near future for the artistic subject’s vehicle. Yes, he was driving a fast car and he was fine, but major tribulation was looming on the horizon.

But these seemingly dichotomous perspectives meld together in a logical though complex justification! Problems can be overcome, difficulties can be dealt with. As long as I know who I am and where I belong I can take whatever comes down the pike!

Take note of the understated background. I didn’t let my message get muddled up in unnecessary details or sidetracked down bunny trails, but I kept the focus clear! I eliminated the frivolous fluff, I was the wind that blew the chaff away. I kept the message front and center, I didn’t want it lost in the noise of excess and superfluity.

Art is such a wonderful thing, it can speak deeply on so many levels. Hopefully, this beneath-the-surface look at an unlikely artistic masterpiece creates a new-found sense of wonder and excitement in your own heart that will propel you on to a lifetime of deeper appreciation for fine visual arts.