Lamentations of the Night Sky

Do you care about the stars?
Do you ever glance into the night?
To see the voice of his heart rise high
On the air of silence above the Rising Sun’s darkness

Were you there on the shore?
Listening to the agony in her voice?
As her pleas drowned out the dull blows of her fists
On his lifeless chest

And I saw the bruises on his face
Felt the scar on her arm
Kissed every tear off her cheek
Turned and screamed your name at the stars
Do you care about the stars?
Do you ever glance into the night?

(Or do I just look the wrong way?)

And if I would be so privileged
As to receive a final request
I’d stamp a word or two on my lips,
Maybe tie on a bow and a pretty lace,
All the while screaming from my heart
To where words can never go

But we must feel to move
We must perceive to be
Wherefore I respectfully submit this request
To be taken to rest among the starry host,
The throng of time, my hope:

Don’t let this be the last verse.

Adventures in the Far East

My latest travels took me on a road trip from MT to the East Coast where my friends and I saw many sites we had only heard about on tv. It was a good American experience. Here's some pics of some of the sites we stopped at:
















Yale University, CT






















Cape Cod, MA
















Times Square, NYC






















Statue of Liberty, NYC
















Mackinac Bridge, MI

(Concerning this montage they call Life…)

My mind is not here, God forbid my mind be here, finding comfort in this comfort.

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more.” -- Bible (Luke 12:48)

Thoughts calling from the past…lying awake at night to the dreams of a child in the theater of my mind. Where did he go? Who is the real thief anyway? Who would steal something so precious and where did I put it? I never asked for this. Peter Pan could fly. I can barely lift my eyes sometimes.

. . .There's so many people hurting. So many people troubled, so many people longing for something even remotely close to true love. And when I see this, my heart sinks; hope seems so distant. When I look up to heaven, words won't come. What can be spoken that hasn't already been heard?. . .

Come down, heaven.
Won't you come down? (As Cities Burn)

This world is backwards and it never quits spinning. Walking, running, flying…will I ever get somewhere?

Take me back to where I was
Before I was born
sweet and dreamless sleep
It sounds like heaven to me (As Cities Burn)

. . .But I can see lights. Lights spread among the walking corpses that constantly surround me. They are a little glimmer of hope that still burns. And all I can hope for and beg for is that this life that I possess would also be one of those lights, staying lit for those around me.

I’m so weak. I can do nothing. The constant motion of time, weathering hope, stealing a little more day to day. All that remains is a dream of a child. But may it forever outlive the child.

Here’s your hope tonight, my love
Please hold it again
Tomorrow I’ll find it again for you

That night I went to bed with a smile on my face. That night takes my hand and leads me on.

What if a heart is more important than a face? What if a vow means more than a ring? What if the rich aren’t the ones who are truly blessed, but rather those who are poor in spirit? What if those who have plenty are not the ones who are truly satisfied, but rather those who hunger and thirst for justice? What if the ambitious aren’t the ones who are truly strong, but rather those who are merciful and humble? What if forgetting about a reputation in order to look at someone with whom others go out of their way to avoid eye contact is important? What if loving one’s neighbor is important?

It’s all backwards.

...May this love be the beginning quiver of a leaf before the rushing of the whirlwind. May this love bring color to the grayness of this world. May this love go where words can't go and eyes can't follow. May this love break through unending facades. Let this love speak. This love…I want this love…

Withered Words

Is this safe in your hands?
Will it outlive your flame?
Cuz it was so beautiful when I looked down
Just a second ago
I held it with care
Like a child’s first dream
And though the filth of my hands
Taint it ever so soft
It still remained as a torch
In a world of ash
A hope in small hands
The one gem not lost
It was beautiful
My God, it was still beautiful

And here I sit in silence
After the wind’s taunting dance
Surrounded by withered words, my stale thoughts
Where does darkness sleep?

I heard the oceans have walls
And the stars a stage
And young ravens are fed
As are clouds before rain
Rivers freeze, mountains break
Lightning roars

I don’t know how I was made

May I sleep on your grave tonight?
Rest my head under your name?
Awake to my bones breaking and beg once again
May I sleep on your grave tonight?
Rest my head frail in its place
And the morning comes
Silent, I stare into your face

Plutonium

I'm glad Pluto's not a planet anymore. I always hated it. I don't think atomic bombs are good for the environment. So, in my opinion, it was a good decision to blow it up...or whatever they did with it...

Uhm...

Here's a picture.

A World Spinning Backwards

Stephen Wiltshire. Sometimes referred to as “The Human Camera.” He’s an autistic savant, which means that he’s an autistic who has been gifted with some incredible abilities. Try this YouTube link to learn more about him: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8YXZTlwTAU. When my neuroscience professor saw this video, he said that he gave up on ever having a complete understanding on how the brain really works—it’s too ridiculous. To think that a brain can be capable of this phenomenon is fascinating and leads to countless questions concerning the neural mechanisms of visual attention and memory. Provided we have two working eyes, optic nerves, and optic tracts, everything in our field of vision enters our primary visual cortex, right? So, what discerns the “level of salience” of objects that we see? What discerns which objects are lost in the background?

Most cameras nowadays have an Invert Colors mode. It’s fun to use if you’re bored with normal pictures. What if there was a Invert Salience mode? All the things that don’t get noticed suddenly become the focus of one’s attention. All the things that weren’t important are actually what’s truly important.

What if the world is backwards?

In the world we live in, the smart are seen as useful, the rich are seen as blessed, the successful are seen as immovable, the good-looking are seen as beautiful. Material weighs one’s success, ambition weighs one’s value, a smile weighs one’s hope, a mirror weighs one’s image. The list could go on.

There’s that thing Jesus said about a poor widow once [1]. Nobody noticed her putting two small coins into the Temple’s collection box. How are the two coins going to help anybody? Her contribution didn’t matter—kinda like voting for President if you’re from North Dakota. But Jesus noticed her and told his disciples that she had given more than everyone else. Visual attention is a funny thing.

Something about the attitude of the woman’s heart mattered. She was poor. She didn’t have money to give, but she gave anyway. Others gave because they had money to give. When we, as a world, focus on this situation, we see the coins. We see what the coins are used for. We try to justify seeing the coins by also looking at the results of the coins. But it’s a rare thing in this world to look at the attitude of one’s heart. Maybe it’s because we can’t physically see it. But what if the things we don’t see are the things that truly are important?

What if the rich aren’t the ones who are truly blessed, but rather those who are poor in spirit? What if those who have plenty are not the ones who are truly satisfied, but rather those who hunger and thirst for righteousness? What if the ambitious aren’t the ones who are truly strong, but rather those who are merciful and humble? [2] What if prayers never answered but still prayed are actually important? What if forgetting about a reputation in order to look at someone with whom others go out of their way to avoid eye contact is important? What if loving one’s neighbor is important?

It’s all backwards. But when it’s all backwards, individuals have value—and it’s a value that doesn’t stem from other individuals’ words. And that’s a refreshing thought in today’s world.

More than anything else, Jesus talked about a Kingdom. Turns out, it wasn’t visible like everyone at the time thought it would be.

[1] http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%2021:1-4;&version=51
[2] http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%205:1-12;&version=31

2008 Euro Cup

Since I live in Europe this summer, I've been following the 2008 Euro Cup. It gives me something to do. I'm in Germany, so I figured I would cheer for Germany, even though I could really care less. With each Germany victory, the celebrations around town gradually grew more lively, so it was fun to observe. Last week when Germany beat Turkey to advance to the championship game, there was a huge celebration downtown. The street was packed with singing Germans, draped in their national colors and waving German flags high for all to see. Around the town all that could be heard was the cacophony of car horns as cars drove around parading the German flags from the windows.

I went to England this weekend and flew back on Sunday night, which ended up overlapping perfectly with the the Germany vs. Spain championship game. On the plane I kept wondering what would await me. If Germany won, I figured I should know immediately after walking into the airport, if not immediately after landing. It would be fitting to type right here "The suspense was more than I could bear," but that'd be a lie. I just sat quietly in my seat and read a book about Saudi Arabia.

Immediately after landing, I began to look around at different people's faces to see if there would be anything telling in their expressions. I didn't see any exhilaration, but maybe they were just acting reserved or maybe their phones didn't work, or maybe the game wasn't quite finished. I was leaning towards a Germany loss.

The second hint I was given was standing in line for immigration back into Germany. I kept hearing murmured voicings of "Scheiße" (English spelling: Scheisse), which is definitely not a good indication of victory. I was almost convinced. I needed to be sure though. Finally, as I walked into the airport terminal, awaiting me was an indication that was a little bit less ambiguous than the previous ones. Here's what I saw:
















That's not Germany's flag (for all the Americans out there). It's an upside-down Spanish one. *shrug*

I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed. Knowing that I would have a 3-hr. layover at the train station in Mainz, I was hoping that the celebrations would still be rockin when I got there so that I could take some cool pictures. Instead, I walked aimlessly around a dark and relatively quiet town at 3am before heading back to the station to wait another hour and a half. Instead of pictures of masses of victorious Germans in their red, black, & yellow garb, singing "Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole!" I have only pictures of lonliness and boredom (below). Oh well, maybe another time.

To My Child in an Imperfect World

(This will be a really cool hardcore song someday)

Wait inside tonight, my love
And rest your eyes
I’m at your side

Here’s your hope tonight, my love
Please hold it again
Tomorrow I’ll find it again for you

And when we embark on our journey again
I’ll hold your hand, my friend
And we'll fly, my friend
And we’ll see the trees from the sky
We’ll see the oceans rise
We’ll see the mountains cry
And we’ll see rivers dry

We’ll see small ones as they watch their mother cry
We’ll see a mother’s pain and adulteress eye
We’ll see brothers abandon for a loaf of bread
We’ll see fathers falling and then they’re dead

We’ll see desolation where the masses are
We’ll see rivers run free in the palace of one
We’ll see nations devour and then take some more
We’ll see kings of peace turn in defeat
We’ll see an empty spot in the judge’s seat
We’ll see recklessness in those we need
We’ll see fire destroy the innocent
We’ll see the starving die, but pass the wine

We’ll see ashes give birth and ashes die
And we’ll see ashes rising high into the sky
We’ll see monuments for the hate they love
We’ll see a bed for the lovers they’ve won

And a strong man will die
And a rich man will cry
And you’ll ask me why
As we look at the trees from this blood red sky

This world is backwards and we’ll spin it back again
We’ll give a Name to the End
And I’ll hold your hand, my friend

We’ll see beauty in the unknown
We’ll see joy in agony
We’ll see hope that comes back again
We’ll see darkness that can’t run free
We’ll see wealth in poverty
We’ll see a heart in the hungry
We’ll see a strength in the lowly
…And maybe we’ll prevail

Please stay with me
In this blood red sky

Give me all your tears
Drop them at my feet
I'll pick each up
Put them all on my cheek

(break-down)

Cuz I’ll dry all your tears
And I’ll dry all your tears
And I’ll dry all your tears
And you’ll sleep tonight

Going Through Life: Part 23

Pretty sure no one still reads this, because it's just another dormant blog site. But I have nothing to do right now, so I'll give a little update and use really cool pictures to make it non-boring.

I graduated from Montana State University with a chemical engineering degree, so that's enough of that. I think the engineers are usually the people who are happiest to graduate. Their four years aren't just some classes and some papers and then you graduate. It's more like hell. So at the graduation ceremony, it seemed fitting that the engineering section erupted with the most pomp and silly string when their college was called. Yeah, so I'm gonna move onto neuroscience now and leave engineering behind for the time being.





















I done gradutated!

After that, I left the U.S. once again on May something, 2008. Before I left, however, I went to Disneyland. And I will now prove it with a picture.
















Me at Disneyland

From Disneyland I flew to Taiwan (for all you Americans out there, Taiwan is an island off the coast of China and south of Japan). The tallest building in the world is there, so I took a a picture by it.





















Taipei 101 Building

After Taiwan, I returned to the lovely Jakarta, Indonesia, to see my family and to eat. My friends and I spent a few days in Bali. It was a good time and I really miss the homies. It was me, my brother Ryan, Chiaki the Jap, Tomo the Jap, and Shinae the Korean.
















Kuta Beach, Bali





















Yeah, I can fly. But only down.

Next we were off to Surabaya, which is in East Java. We went to Mt. Bromo, which fascinates Indonesians with its desolate landscape. I think it's the only place that looks like that in Indonesia, and Indonesia is a big country (not just one little island in the ocean, like most Americans believe). Here's a couple pics:
















Mt. Bromo, Eastern Java, Indonesia

















Jumping off stuff

I eventually left Indonesia and came to Germany, where I am now. I'm doing MRI research at the University of Würzburg. I was able to get my brain scanned at the other building. So here's what my brain looks like when I'm looking at different depicted facial expressions:

















fMRI of my brain

So that's not too bad, I guess. Fairly normal. Got all the important things, at least. Ok, well...I'm hoping to write some interesting thoughts someday. So...whatever. Farewell.

Surrender

There is something powerful in surrender. Not simply a momentary surrendering to an instinct or an impulse or a logic—that can be seen every day anywhere you look—but surrendering one’s life. I think the reason for such a salient notion runs deeper than it simply being rare in today’s world, although that’s definitely a point to notice. What kind of person decides to yield control over their own life? It sounds ridiculous, especially in independent America where notions such “the individual” and “freedom” are heralded almost like a cultic dogma. What would possess someone to go against natural, physiologically mapped-out synaptic pathways and surrender his body, mind, decisions, goals, achievements, etc., to another? Only two kinds of people come to mind: 1) those who know nothing and 2) those who know that they know nothing.

Some are simply taught to surrender. But then there are others who are driven to it by a gradual realization that, when it comes to how to live a life in a world—a world in which others also live, no less—there are so many factors involved in attempting to create the good things in life—things such as perfection, ideality, joy, hope, love—that one would never in a billion years be able to take all these factors and load them into a statistical model to determine “how to have a good and productive life.” It’d be a mess. No consistency.

So maybe that’s why surrendering is an option. It would, of course, depend on if there was indeed a Way to know how to live in order to produce these good things in life. All I know is that following my impulsive or instinctive tendencies is really inconsistent—sometimes selfish, sometimes altruistic, and sometimes altruistic only in my selfish mind.

It seems like consistency is something longed for in the world. There are so many people in the world—those in the most horrid conditions and those living comfortably; those who are content and those who are miserable; those with hate and those with love. And the initial conditions on a person’s life are a huge influence on determining what kind of person he/she will become; however, I don’t believe it’s the ultimate influence. My belief is in the teachings of Jesus and that true goodness and consistency is found in a relationship with Him. I heard of things such as beauty in poverty, hope in hopelessness, joy in anguish. I’ve even experienced this phenomenon on a small scale myself, but I would be embarrassed to call my experiences of poverty, hopelessness, and anguish the real things.

So, again, I don’t believe a life’s initial conditions are the only determining factor involved, but are very influential in determining the course of a life. And I think that the consistency found in Jesus is actually able to resolve these seemingly unfair beginnings scattered around the globe. I plan to write about this in my next blog.

A Cup of Water

Another night, sitting at my table, focused, driven, striving to grasp a mass transport differential equation. It’s not long before my eyes look up. My eyes scan the room, but my mind is not here—it’s not in this spacious, furnished, American room with a queen-sized bed, two computers, a connecting bathroom, a walk-in closet.

What is all this CRAP? Where did it come from? What am I studying? Why am I studying?

What is happening outside the walls of this American home? Is justice being uplifted in Myanmar? Are kids being fed in Sudan? Are fathers caring for their children in Japan? Are the homes of earthquake and tsunami victims in Indonesia being rebuilt? What about the many families who have been forced to split up in North Korea, China, and Laos? What about those who have grown up without even the thought of hope in Palestine, Israel, Iraq, Thailand, India…the list could go on forever, because the wars could go on forever.

My mind is not here, God forbid my mind be here, finding comfort in this comfort.

Differential equations, mass transport, microbiology, neuroscience, magnetic resonance microscopy—a means. Please God, merely a means to an end. May the label of education be hope to someone—anyone, anywhere. Even if just to give a cup of cold water to drink to a child.

I’m so weak. I can do nothing. The constant motion of time, weathering hope, stealing a little more day to day. All that remains is a dream of a child. But may it forever outlive the child.

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more.” -- Bible (Luke 12:48)

More From The World

Well, I completed a world trip this year and have finally arrived back in the great white America. This was my first full-year spent outside of the U.S., and it definitely changed a lot of what goes on in my head. My plan now is to chill in America for a couple more years to get a finish an engineering degree, and then I'm off to the world again. Here's some pictures from random countries:

The last "purikura" ever. These pictures are really popular in Japan, but they're not so interesting to me. It was good to see the homies again. Sho and Sae are still crazy, so that's good.

From Japan I went to Morocco and saw cool stuff. Here's the 2nd biggest mosque in the world.

And then I was off to Europe. I went to Germany to meet my friend Kaori, and then we drove down to the Austrian Alps. They were flippin cool. Here's a picture of something that can never be captured:

In Austria there was a guy that we call "Drool Man," so we went to see him.






















While driving in Austria, we took a wrong turn and ended up going to Italy. We figured since we were going to Italy, we might as well go all the way to Venice. So that's what we did and it was an awesome trip. Yeah, Venice...they use boats.























My final stop was Iceland. I drove around the island by myself for a few days before coming back to America. Here's me and my friend in Iceland:

Thoughts

There's so many people hurting. So many people troubled, so many people longing for something even remotely close to true love. And when I see this, my heart sinks; hope seems so distant. When I look up to heaven, words won't come. What can be spoken that hasn't already been heard?

But, I can see lights. Lights spread among the walking corpses that constantly surround me. They are a little glimmer of hope that still burns. And all I can hope for and beg for is that this life that I possess would also be one of those lights, staying lit for those around me.

Once Upon A Umi

Good morning, World.

It won't be long now until I go back to my mother country. I can tell already it's gonna be pretty messed, but I think as long as I don't let my mind expect anything, then it won't be as shocking. Right now I'm just trying to finish up my Japanese classes as well as my one Korean class. Crazy how many alphabets I've learned in the past year.

Last weekend we chilled at a beach at a place called Amakusa. It is on the west side of Japan's southernmost island of Kyushu. It was really green except for the sand and the water. There was a big yellow sun. We did the normal beach stuff, like play in the water, construct a sand castle, get sunburned, etc.

The Night of Flight and Light and Ghosts

There was the night we took our friends to a look-out over the city to teach them the basics of flight. They actually didn't pay too much attention to us, just took a couple pictures and told us that we were good flyers. But hopefully we were able to leave a lasting impression on them and maybe someday they will start seriously pursuing a life of flight and freedom.

Here's a few of Sam and I flying:

Here's one that doesn't let me sleep at night because it's so scary, and then I thought I'd also just throw in an "on the grounder" as well.

The Mother Blog

At last, I felt it was time to write a blog that was not completely abstract, useless, and boring like the past couple blogs have been, so I will try my hardest to do that.

So, my life is still not over. However, I am still single and I have no idea why, because I'm really cool and manly. But, moving on...here are some of the latest happenin's in my life in Japan with the homies.

(To continue reading this amazing blog, go to this site: http://www.xanga.com/rbblah)

And here's two pictures for the people who are too lazy to go to the other site.

Here's a mountain my friend took a picture of from the plane. The locals call it Fuji-san (富士山). It's in Japan.





















Here's a picture of Tokyo Tower that I took with my cell phone.

In a moment…

One suddenly becomes an individual; unique, beautiful
When thoughts are realized

One suddenly becomes a treasure, cherished and dear
When thoughts become important

One suddenly becomes a dream, longed for and cried for
When thoughts become words

But, in this split moment, do we dare say let death live?
Rather, may it be we who live
Not merely to become a dream
But to become these words

Mirror of Hope

And once when I looked upon this world and then to the mirror at my feet
I thought I saw a perfect complexion
Accursed pretension that it was
For when I looked under the sun, I saw what had been seen so many times before
Wickedness sat in justice’s throne and the wicked at the table of the righteous
Wherever I looked, evil prevailed
And in all this there were no advantages to be given me, save one
Or so I thought
For in this abundance of evil, my pride was given life
In my earthen mirror deception gave birth
And my gaze was fixed
Enthralled with a new-found beauty
My cute, little lie that tore me to shreds

I kept looking down

And once when I looked from my place below to the heavens
And then to the mirror placed into my hands from above
I noticed perfection was no more, for I saw my place
But what remained...
What remained make beautiful words as useful as dust
New mirror placed in my hands
I saw myself, yet not a reflected gaze, but a gaze from afar
These eyes I recognized from my dreams so long ago
Dreams of hope so great, that which only a child could dream
This is what I would become, eyes captivated by freedom
Is there still time?
In this imperfection was found the purest sort of acceptance
An acceptance that cannot be true, for perfection was no more
Yet my gaze was fixed

I was no longer looking down

In my hands I hold this mirror of hope

Drifting Thoughts...

(Concerning the thief they call "Time"...)

People sometimes say I don't care about anything. Of course they're wrong, but oftentimes the "whatever mindset" seems really attractive to me, enough to even strive for at times. But this "whatever mindset" is really more of a mindset that is reached by a slow chiseling brought by a gradual realization of certain permanent truths concerning life that seem to be constantly staring you in the eye. At first the realization of these truths causes a feeling of helplessness. "Good times will end...I barely have time to cherish any friendships...I can't stop my life..."

...Many times as I go through life, I get really sad about its constant motion. I hate that memories are forgotten. I hate that faces are forgotten. I hate that conversations are forgotten. I hate that love is forgotten. I hate having no choice but to be carried by the seasons and carried by the dawn and having to constantly be awakened to another dream and another farewell...

Depressing, really. But after a while it can give way to somewhat of a satisfaction and appreciation for the little things that the never-satisfied Time Monster DOES allow you to cherish, all the while knowing that it will eventually come to an end, and another chapter will begin. Maybe the farewell will be said 1 day after the "Nice to meet you"...maybe it will be said 1 year later...but whatever that short time is in the middle, you can learn to enjoy it.

...It's so easy to want to forget people after they're gone from my life and to quit caring about them anymore. it's so natural. and it hurts a lot less sometimes. not forgetting people, in a way, is going against the natural thing for one's mind to do, which means you might be all alone. the natural has made them forget you, but you still cling to memories of them because on a whole other plane, it's not natural at all to forget them. it's impossible...

...and it's all really depressing, really. but once in a while, there's a mutual beautiful agony--the beauty being the life enjoyed together in a brief moment and the agony being the brief moment itself. and maybe it will become more than once in a while after a while. and the "beautiful" part of the agony is enough of a driving force to move any person with a heart to fight through all the natural, depressing moments. as long as the beauty in each encounter is remembered...

And then all of this makes you think about deep, philosophically-oriented questions dealing with purpose, eternity, the concept of hope and happiness, etc. Maybe some answers are discovered...and maybe only more questions are discovered...

(Concerning friends...)
...And this is the part that really weighs on me. Do you know how it feels to write stuff that you can never share with those about whom you wrote it? Do you know what it feels like to not be able to share your deepest and most heartfelt concerns with some people you care about the most? Do you know what it feels like when words are worthless? Do you know how it feels to be helpless, and all you can do is cry from a distance? Once in a while, I’m able to change a mind, but I’ve never changed a heart. God, I can’t change hearts...

And, finally, the question to which you long to know the answer. The question that calls for purpose itself and that unites the tangled chain of thoughts with the reason to wake up tomorrow morning.

Will a gem be found in the ashes? Will there be a ring in the decay?

...May this love be the beginning quiver of a leaf before the rushing of the whirlwind. May this love bring color to the grayness of this world. May this love go where words can't go and eyes can't follow. May this love break through unending facades. Let this love speak. This love…I want this love…

"Not that I have already obtained all this…but I press on…"

The Bridge

So…ideality: I have an idea of who I want to become. There’s this person who has a dynamic personality yet completely gentle eyes that shine with a confidence that somehow comforts rather than intimidates, dispelling any fear, worry, or even thought of judgment or ridicule (the world many of us live in every day) and naturally generating an atmosphere of safety. His heart is engulfed with a passion and longing for the people he sees everyday—people he’s never even talked to before. His heart breaks when he sees brokenness, smiles when he sees hope, aches when he sees sorrow, dances when he sees joy. And, through this deep care for those around him, people are encouraged, restored, and given hope. For some reason, this is exactly what humanity longs for the most—a someone who simply cares and then throws out everything else that usually comes with the package. To be this detached from the psychological hell we live in now; to become this forgetful of the self that I kneel before every day; to not be a wuss who gets scared and cries whenever the future hints at a possible hurt or pain due to this desired vulnerability—this is a little glimpse of my ideality.

Let’s check out reality real quick: I don’t yet know everything about who I am, but I know way more than I wanted to know. I’m old enough to know that I can’t simply change with a snap of my fingers, or else, by all means, I would be the guy in the paragraph up there, this blog would already be posted, and I would be sleeping happily in my bed right now, completely satisfied with my day of selfless and humble service to those I had met. Nope, there’s definitely something else buried in me. There’s a deep longing to satisfy myself at any cost—the cost of others; the cost of my own physical, emotional, and spiritual health; the cost of love itself. When I see brokenness, I see hopelessness. And as I sit in my cozy little room, deep down inside, I scream to be guarded at all costs against any hint of discomfort that may find its way into my precious little life. Who cares about this “character-building” crap that everyone’s always talking about. I guess sometimes I care about people when they care about me. And sometimes I even write about caring about people even when they don’t care about me. But all of this paints a little bit different picture than the one of who I want to become.

It’s not hard to be a good person in our society because everyone is compared against each other; and it usually tends to be on the basis of pious acts or whatever you want to call it, because how could we really have an “innermost thoughts of the heart” basis of goodness in this society? I gave the most money to the “Save the Children in Africa” fund; I handed out the most socks to homeless people on the streets; I said the most prayers to God—Kazaam! I’m a good person. But what if I wanted to become someone who exceeds any cute, little social standards—that are, sadly, satisfactory for most people—and, instead, actually demonstrates pure thoughts, selfless love, and humble servant hood at the innermost level of the heart?

I’ve thought about this. And my thoughts always lead me back to this question: Why live a life that can only strive for ideality? It’s giving your life for something that maybe can’t even be achieved. It’s striving for the unattainable. Sometimes I get tired of thinking about ideality. It will never happen, so why even entertain the tantalizing thoughts?

But maybe this is where purpose arises. A definition of “purpose,” in a personal-level context, might be “the bridging of the immense gap between ideality and reality.” I’ve seen many people let this concept consume their lives, and, honestly, they are the happiest and most life-giving people I know. It’s a striving for the unattainable. It’s a chasing after the deep, inherent understanding in each of us that whispers that, somewhere, perfection exists.

So, it’s unattainable. But I don’t plan on giving up because, who knows, on my way maybe somebody will follow along on my trek across this infinite bridge from this reality towards perfection—the life-giving perfection the world longs for. And the same perfection Jesus Christ demonstrated on this earth those many years ago.

And who knows, maybe in the end…like, the very end…we’ll find that this Ideality does indeed live—only on a whole different plane of reality.

Christmas in Indonesia II

I came back to Japan yesterday after spending Christmas in Indonesia with the family. My whole family was there together, which is quite an accomplishment really. We went swimming a lot at our house and also went snorkeling around some islands just north of Java. It was good to see the homies again. I was reminded of how loud my family is, but it was good to be home.















Chillin in the pool
















Family portrait





















Joy (older sister) and Cambry (my niece). Cambry has the mindset of a kamikaze. She will climb anything anywhere and won't quit until she gets to the top. When she's older, I'm hoping to take her skidiving.

Adventures from Japan: 友達たちの訪問

Here are some breathtaking photos from this past weekend. Kelly and Sae came to visit Kumamoto, so all of us former Montanans (from last year) had a good ol' Japanese get-together, remembering how we all loved each other whilst we conversed over our dinner of raw horse meat and rice-balls. We also visited some nice places near my beautiful city of Kumamoto. Check it out...

Welcome to Japan, Kelly.

Chillin on a red bridge.

元気の森。The Forest of Genki. Sae & I snuck in for free on accident. Love when that happens.

The Mighty Blue and Rotating Pipe.

Mt. Everest.

Beautiful Sunrise

Oh, how tears have fallen for you, Beautiful Sunrise!

Across the horizon, your timid twilight creeps
Yet bound by the night, the darkness; you sleep
Your illumination fades when I look at your eyes
There, only blackness resides, screaming for life

But kissing its death

You lie still, embraced with your lover, your pain,
And watch your dreams walk away
Snatched from your hands, cast to the dirt
Trodden upon by the very blackness you deny
And the faint cry of hope, muffled inside
It too will die
For truth has stumbled in the streets
Taking with it freedom
And you are left

Chained to your lover’s bed

Can a mere stroke of green kill the red that screams?
Can a promise of wings give flight to a stone?

Beautiful Sunrise, will you ever let Day dawn?
A voice in the wilderness cries for you
“The hand is not too short to save
Nor the ear too dull to hear”

Yet only silence remains…

But all hope is not dead
For not all eyes are dry

We can’t say goodbye just yet…

Adventures in Japan: Nerd & Ninjya

This is me at a big castle.

In other news, we had a Halloween party on Halloween. Sam dressed up like a nerd and I was a ninjya with big eyes. We let some girls use whatever was left in our closets as their costumes.

From the Rising Sun

What makes dust cry for dust?
Or vapor for vapor?

And my love was like morning dew
But You still called my name
As I walked to my bed of thorns
To sleep in my fortress, adorned with death
My casket of gold

I couldn’t quit waving goodbye

And I never want to forget
Those nights in the desert
Though dark and desolate
As I laid still, longing for the hope trapped in my dreams
Crying for a life not my own
I knew You were there
But why did You hide?

And then the rain came

And now, as we walk in this moment of peace
Watching each precious leaf fall through my life
I would like to offer You my dust as thanks

If I had something more, it would be Yours as well

To have a face of flint
But a heart that changes with the rising of the sun
This is my request
For to awake is my life

Adventures in Japan: あさぎのうち

Sam and I visited our friend Asagi Masuda's house in Japan. She was in Montana, so we didn't actually get to see her. But we still visited her house. Here's a few pictures of her backyard. 　まじで

Adventures in Japan: Osaka

Sam and I stopped by Osaka before coming to Kumamoto. Here's a few pictures:

















Downtown Osaka. The homies: Sho, Me, Sae, Sam






















Chillin with a geisha.






















My friend's house in Osaka.

Adventures in Korea

On the way to Japan, I stopped by Korea (only South Korea this time) to chill with some homies. It was pretty relaxing.

















Seoul at night
























Me paragliding off of Korea's tallest building
















Chillin in Incheon. Such a dirty city.

Opium of the People

"Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people." -- Karl Marx (Contribution to Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right)

I'm in Japan right now. I went to see a volcano yesterday. It was pretty cool.

One of the many things that I've noticed here that is way different from the culture in which I was raised is the many shrines that can be found at almost every tourist attraction. Often, food and water are left at the shrines out of respect. I haven't yet figured out to what or to whom the respect is given. I'm still learning about the culture.

Anyway, my thoughts have been on religion lately. Thinking of the motivations behind pious acts of people reminded me of Marx's quote. He was talking more about the usefulness of religion in providing an escape from the suffering in the world, but the principle he conveys is really profound. Why do people visit temples? Why do people leave food at shrines? Why do people pray five times a day? Why do people give money to churches and charities? The questions could go on, but the point is that there is something about piety that can act as fuel to the human mind and body. It's almost as if a longing is buried deep in humanity--a longing for true and perfect beauty, a hidden knowledge of perfection. We can all understand that "better" exists, but it is as if this understanding lurks just below the surface of translation into concrete thought. What is perfection? It is almost as if this inherent understanding of perfection vanishes as soon as an attempt is made to bring it into the world of concrete thoughts.

What if pious acts stem from this longing of humanity? What it comes down to is that doing good things makes a person feel good about himself/herself. I see religion as an attempt at restoration. It’s a search for that glimpse of perfection that remains in our being though the dream has faded.

Unlike Karl Marx, I happen to believe that there is a living God who cares deeply about the affairs of His creation. I do, however, agree with Karl Marx’s statements on religion. I’m not very old, but so far from my observations of the people around me, I can say confidently that humanity craves purpose. This craving for purpose along with a lost understanding of the living God has led to the creation of religion.

Religion is a structure that enables people to feel belonging and to ease their conscience. For the most part, religion is pretty easy. Leave food at a shrine, go to church, fast every once in a while, don’t eat pork, etc. It takes a little discipline, but the reward is an eased conscience and maybe even some like-minded friends. So, it’s as easy as 1, 2, 3. In a way, it makes perfect sense. Following a structure means that there is a list laid out before you. This is good and that is bad. And, being people with a brain that is constantly working to categorize new information, this formulized way of living can look really attractive.

I guess you could say that I have broken away from religion in recent years. Like I said, I believe there is a living God Who desires a relationship with each person in this world. Relationships throw our categorizing minds into confusion. There is no list involved; rather, it is an interactive way of living involving a whole gamut of thoughts, emotions, feelings, and choices. Instead of having an outline of “How to be pious,” a deep trust and confidence must be relied upon for direction. And all that crap buried deep down in my life that I don’t want to deal with—all the selfish motives, the covetous thoughts, the bitter attitudes, the pain and wounds—it can’t remain buried. That stuff doesn’t need to be touched when there is a structure to guide the outward way of living, but a healthy relationship can’t continue without change. But this is where the purpose/fulfillment/true joy come in. It’s a glimpse of perfection.

Religion is a sort of opium. But what’s the real world like? That’s the question, I guess. I think truth is important for people to think about on their own instead of merely believing what everyone says about truth nowadays—“Everyone has their own truth and no matter what someone believes, it’s right.” That’s one of the most cognitively lazy statements I have ever heard. But I will save my thoughts on this for another blog sometime. Within the next five years…

Selamat Malam...

My season in the jungle has come to an end, but my adventures are far from over...

Adventures from the Jungle: The Philippines

My most recent trek took me to the Philippines where I explored volcanos and islands and island volcanos.
















Relaxing on the island of Boracay

















My brother Ryan on the beach






















Ryan climbing a tree

















Rocky beach

















Mt. Taal, the island volcano

Adventures from the Jungle: Yogyakarta

August 6, 2006
His name is Danis (Don-ees). He is from the tribe known as the Danis of Papua, formerly known as Irian Jaya, the easternmost island of Indonesia. His name is pronounced the same as his people group. What if I named my kid “American”…















Ryan, me, and Danis at ancient temple ruins in Yogyakarta

I really should learn Indonesian someday, if only to communicate with this man. From what my other Papuan friend has told me about him, Danis seems to be a very influential man in this country. He has been leading relief efforts in Aceh (the part of Indonesia destroyed by the tsunami around Christmas time of 2004) and Yogyakarta (hit by a massive earthquake that killed over 5,000 people last May). He took us to a place in Yogyakarta (or Yogya) that his team had come to after the earthquake. This place was one of the places that had gotten the worst of the quake. Almost everyone’s houses (shacks) had been destroyed, so Danis and his team were working at building new houses for these people using wood for the structure, bamboo for the walls, and tin sheets for the roofs. I didn’t need to know the language to see that these villagers loved Danis and his team for the kindness they had shown to them. We drove by other areas hit hard by the quake and noticed that some of these other areas were deserted. Nobody had come to help them rebuild their houses, so what could they do? There are not a lot of options in a place like this.

Adventures from the Jungle: Part 1

I am in Indonesia chillin at my parents’ place in Jakarta for the rest of the summer. The first three days here, however, were spent making visits to mountain villages of Java.
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August 4, 2006
I’m a baby again. I open my eyes and they are immediately taken captive to these intriguing sights. My eyes have never seen these things before. For a North Dakotan like me, this drive through these obscure villages buried in the mountains of West Java has not been a regular, dull, hypnotic 2-hour drive. The trees, the houses (shacks), the mosques, the alleys, the people, the colors, the whole structure of life…I’m a newborn in a fascinating new world.

Questions flood my mind as I drive through these people’s worlds. What goes through their minds as they live their own, unique mundane? What do they love? What do they hate? What is their excitement? What is their sadness? What keeps them moving every morning? What are their goals, their hopes?

This is a crazy place, man. And I love it.

Adventures from the Jungle: Part 2

August 4, 2006
We sit on the concrete floor in a little room that must be considered the living room by the family who lives here. The villagers present in the room begin telling their stories. Through the translator I am able to get a deeper understanding of who these people are. Many of them were forced to move to this area because the radical Muslim communities where they once lived did not accept their beliefs in Jesus the Messiah (Isa al Masih). One man told of how he had grown up a radical Muslim. He had attended a radical Muslim university, read books on how to be a terrorist, and stood in opposition to those who did follow Islam. But that had all changed three years ago when he was finally convinced that Isa al Masih was the Way to receive eternal life. Other villagers shared about how they had been very sick and had tried to get healing through the witch doctors’ black magic, but nothing had worked until somebody had prayed for them in Jesus’ name. They then decided to follow Jesus with their life.

All of these people are very brave, their confidence stemming from a deep love for Isa, their Savior and Lord. This whole area is filled with radical followers of Islam. You do not want to be seen with a Bible in this area, but this isn’t even a problem for most of these people because they have no copies of their own.

Adventures from the Jungle: Part 3

August 4, 2006
We keep climbing. By now, the steady shaking and rattling has faded to only background noise to the sensory. This is courtesy of an unkempt paved road high in a mountain village. I haven’t seen another vehicle for quite some time now. The stares from the villagers alongside the road seem to confirm my observation. The thick walls of tropical vegetation lining the road is a sight unfamiliar to me. This is the closest I’ve ever been to being Tarzan. The road breaks into a clearing and we come to a stop. After a short hike down a dirt path, we enter a tiny village consisting of wood and bamboo houses. We’ve arrived at our second destination of the day.

Like our first stop, this community was formed by ten families who had confessed to Jesus, and, as a result, needed to relocate. We walked into an empty concrete room, which I again conclude has to be the living room. I take a look around, finding a small room adjacent to the living room. In it, four teenage guys sit making Adidas soccer balls. Interesting. They were coming along quite nice. Whether or not those Adidas balls are the ones I see in sports stores all around the world, I'll never know; but regardless, every time I see an Adidas soccer ball, my mind will give me a picture of those guys in that small room in that small house in that small village high in the mountains of West Java.

Farewell, O Mountainous One

This will be my last day in Montana for over a year. I will head to North Dakota for a few days before flying to Indonesia and eventually moving on to Japan to spend the next year, where I hope to become a real ninjya.

In other news, I was reading an article in a neuroscience magazine that talked about the blood-brain barrier composed of endothelial cells that's found in the blood vessels leading to the brain. This barrier guards against substances in the air, water, food, body's own hormones, etc. that would totally mess things up if allowed into the brain's bloodstream. So like, the blood supplied to the brain and central nervous system is filtered like crazy. Ecstasy and heroine are bad for you because they can wear-down the blood-brain barrier, making it more permeable to harmful substances. That's pretty messed, man. So, I guess, like...if you could somehow draw a main point from this last paragraph, it would have to be "Don't do drugs cause they can cause the filter system of the blood-brain barrier in your body to become more permeable, severely impairing the brain's functioning."

Back to the main topic...

Actually, I don't think I have anything else to say. So now all I need is a cool picture to make this the best blog I've ever written.

















Me and my dawgs (nephew and brother)

A Glimpse

I remember back in the day when my friends and I all worked as counselors at a kid’s camp during the summers. The director of the camp at that time was a man named Morris, who was known for his unearthly ability to sneak into cabins at night without the slightest hint of detection among the kids or the counselors. The most common use of this phantom ability was to make sure all was well with the kids during the counselor’s “night out.” There are endless stories of him catching the kids at the peak of their mischief, when they thought nobody was looking. The stories are quite funny, really. Also, completely amazing, some of them.

One of my first years as a counselor, I remember Morris saying something to the effect of “At camp every night I go to bed with a smile on my face.” At the time, it didn’t strike me as anything incredibly profound—like, it was cool that he cared about these kids and that it made him happy to run this camp every year. Yeah, cool.

So, I remember one night at camp a few years back. I was giving devotions to a cabin full of fourteen 11-year old boys before we turned the lights out. One of these boys who had been working up a ADHD reputation over the week was especially hyper this night (because, he claimed, he had too much sugar in his system from the ice cream sundae he had eaten right before devotions that night) and was finding it hard to focus on settling down and listening to my authority. He kept distracting the other boys, and this makes devotions impossible because a cabin full of fourteen 11-year old boys is a delicate thing. It doesn’t take long for the short, little fuse to disappear and the cabin to erupt in fits of laughter and farting noises and everything the opposite of being serious.

This one night, I pulled out everything to try to get this kid to settle down, the final “threat” being: “If you don’t settle down, I’m gonna have to send you to Morris.” This statement usually generates a room full of gasps from the other kids. It means “This is your last chance. One more wrong move, and you will begin the death march [the march to Morris’s trailer].” It’s funny, kinda…the “bad kids” who have been sent to Morris find out that it isn’t bad at all. They find that Morris actually doesn’t sit them in a chair and scream at them with vein-popping force, head two inches from their face, telling them how they’re total screw-ups and their life is worthless. Yeah, that actually doesn’t happen. Maybe he sits them in a chair…but after that Morris just asks them questions about their life in a calm, friendly manner.

BUT, this kid didn’t know that yet, because he had never taken the death march. This particular night would change that, however, because my power had run dry. It was time to carry through with my threat. “Zach, get your shoes on…”

“No, no! I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Too late. I already warned you. Where’s your shoes?”

Zach silently dismounts his bunk, a sense of dread evident in his eyes, as one awaiting something terrible. I drop him off at the trailer and come back, smiling to myself, confident in the little secret of Morris’s gentleness.

Not long after devotions finish and the lights are turned out, Zach returns to the now silent cabin and quietly climbs back into his bunk. After a little while, I go over to see what’s up. “How’s it goin?” I whisper.

“I can’t sleep. I think I’ve just had too much sugar tonight. That’s why I was hyper.”

“Yeah, it happens. Just try to take some deep breaths.”

I can tell it might be a little while before he falls asleep, so I proceed to ask him some questions about his talk with Morris, about the week at camp, about his family, all the while rubbing his back as he lies in bed, as my mom would sometimes do for me when I couldn’t fall asleep. After maybe fifteen minutes or so, his eyes are closed and our conversation has finally reached its end.

That night a sliver of a very important truth found its way into my mind. I had every right to be angry at this kid. A week at camp is not exactly a week of vacation for the counselors. Sleep becomes very precious. Because Zach wouldn’t settle down, I lost some of that precious sleep. Also, he had distracted the other kids from listening to some important things I was sharing with them about life. He hadn’t understood what really matters; he hadn’t understood that being a counselor isn’t a cakewalk; he hadn’t understood that some of the other kids wanted to listen to my words. I had every right to be mad at this kid.

But…I wasn’t. He couldn’t fall asleep, and I cared. Sure, I cared because I wanted to go to sleep and I wanted the rest of the kids to stay asleep, but more than that, I cared because I wanted him to peacefully sleep. What is it about living for something outside of self that brings fulfillment to self? What is it about dying to self and serving others that brings life to that very self that died? What is it about the agony of love that brings beauty and joy to a soul? What if this was the very reason for which we were created? I understood something that night, something not taught with words or by human wisdom. I was shown a glimpse of reality.

That night I went to bed with a smile on my face.

The Da Vinci Code

I wasn't planning on getting involved in the Da Vinci Code hype mostly because I find fiction novels really boring and also because I feel like I'm wasting my time by engrossing myself in an imaginary world. However, a couple weeks ago, I went on a road trip to MN with some friends, and while driving through ND I suddenly realized that I was incredibly bored and hadn't remembered to bring any books along. The Da Vinci Code had managed to make its way along on the trip via a friend, so it was either the Da Vinci Code or the mighty plains of North Dakota...

Ah, yes, another lively spark of controversy to arouse the Christian community.

When I hear talk of people's faith 'being challenged' or people 'losing their faith' over this novel, it makes me wonder what faith they are talking about? What is this faith that is being lost and challenged? Faith in parents' beliefs? Faith in friends' beliefs? Faith in a little set of rules from church?

Check it out:

The very core of who I am and the life that I live is this: I believe that Jesus Christ was born c. 2000 years ago and that he was God in human flesh. I believe that before he ascended back to heaven he was crucified on a cross and laid in a tomb for three days before coming back to life to prove his divinity. Did the Da Vinci Code rock my fragile, little world by challenging my belief in this?

Before answering that, let’s go back to why I believe such a crazy supernatural event actually happened. Seriously, what the flip would possess someone to believe that somebody could bring himself back from the dead? Do I believe that Jesus rose from the dead because my parents told me that he did? I used to. But then I discovered that most people usually don’t come back alive after dying.

I like reading about history. That’s the way most people learn about history—by reading. When people read about Julius Caesar’s assassination, Alexander’s conquests, or Nero’s insanity, how often do they ask themselves, “Did this really happen or is history a big conspiracy?” Usually, people don’t question whether or not Alexander the Great conquered the Persian Empire. Mostly because it has no relevance in most people’s daily activities. Does it matter if Julius Caesar actually said “Et tu, Brute?”? If he actually didn’t say that, I will not change even a single thing about myself and the way I live because it means nothing to me and most other people. Another reason people don’t question it is because it’s not hard to believe. Assassinations happen, friends can betray, generals can conquer—nothing too difficult to wrap our minds around.

So then we’ve got the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Not only do they center around an outrageous claim that Jesus rose from the dead, but, if true, it has a drastic significance to the way a person acts, thinks, believes. People don’t like ripples in their little pool of comfort. If Jesus actually rose from the dead, it means there’s a world outside of the little pool, a world outside of self—it gives evidence for a concept that we’re taught to avoid at all costs, the unthinkable: Truth.

So, basically, as with just about every belief about the past, about politics, about philosophy, about life in general; theories are the underlying matter—the building blocks of beliefs and ideals. All we have is theories. Whoever says evolution is a fact is absurd. Whoever says scientific methods can prove an intelligent Creator is mistaken. All that exists on mankind’s paper are theories drawn from evidence we can see and touch and smell. And with enough faith, any theory is possible.

I would say that, hands down, the best theory about the gospels in the Bible is that they are incredibly historically reliable according to the criteria for which historical credibility is evaluated. I was going to go in depth about the criteria that credibility entails, but that information has been already composed in a bunch of other, more reliable places than this blogsite. But I would just like to mention that these theories explain a whole gamut of deep questions humanity longs to answer. They explain life on a philosophical plane, which includes the questions of good and evil, the purpose of life, the origin of evil. They explain the psychological nature of humanity, such as why humans long to be valued and how this affects the way we treat each other. As far as sociology goes, the gospels give us awesome guidelines to live by. Seeing everyone as equal and being a servant to others—it’s something that’s only talked about. Would wars happen if people followed these guidelines? Historically, it checks out—the places, the people, the events. One could argue that these theories fail the test of science. But to be able to truly do that one would have to prove that the supernatural does not exist. I don’t know why people are so quick to claim miracles can’t happen just because they themselves haven’t observed any. Do they think that their little world is the universal world and that they are the omniscient deity? And some of them like claiming others are close-minded…?

Anyway, like I said, any theory is possible. Obviously, the implication is that, though any theory is possible, not any theory is true. This is why I think it is extremely important that our theories be very carefully evaluated.

Herein lies the problem: people are often too engrossed in their own lifestyles/desires/etc. to even possess a desire to genuinely evaluate the validity of their own personal theories. Of course the thought of everybody having an own personal truth is attractive. What’s not to like about it? Everybody is happy then, right? Happy—and intellectually lazy (generalizations again).

Back to Da Vinci Code:

My world was not rocked in the slightest by the Da Vinci Code theory. Mostly because this theory is complete bull-honkey. If you doubt, then go find any articles on the authenticity of the Da Vinci Code claims. Newsweek will do—I read that the other day. I apologize, but I don’t see how a person who accepts the claims of the Da Vinci Code as truth can be identified as anyone other than a fickle and ignorant person who could actually care less about real, factual history.

This “losing faith” deal wouldn’t be an issue if the faith was built on a real relationship with the living Jesus Christ. And I’d just like to say that I hope those other faiths are lost, because they are empty. If a faith is built on anything other than a genuine yearning for truth—a yearning without protective walls on all sides of self, but one that is willing to abandon self in the name of truth, if required—then this faith is only a shallow belief system that will never quit tossing with the wind and the waves.

That is why I think this whole Da Vinci craze will be a good event for the church in the long run. I hope it will force the Christian culture to delve into its roots and find truth, rather than continuing in a formulized way of living, or religion, void of relational dependence on God. My hope is that Jesus will become more than a philosophical idea to set at ease a psychological need, more than an mere “embodiment of goodness” to make us behave, more than a bedtime story for little kids. Who knows, maybe through this Da Vinci Code thing, the Church will find Jesus Christ, the true and Living God.

Hiking

Some of us went hiking the other day and took some cool pics.
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Streetballaz and Asians

It's finals week, so I figured I'd post a blog instead of studying.
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Streetballa

I just wanted to share with everyone a picture that I drew of a streetballa two years ago. I'm kind of proud of it becuase it took me a while to get the proportions right. I did it freehand, too.

Uhm...in other news...I got my plane ticket for my trip to Indonesia, Korea, and Japan this summer.

Sho Nakajima

I'm planning to visit my friend Sho in Japan in September. The last thing he said to me last year before leaving the U.S. to go back to Japan was "Take a shower."

He always tells people that his mom looks like a horse. I didn't know what he meant until I met her.

Anyways, I gotta go take another final. Peace out...

And Yet It Remains...

I will love you from a distance
I will lift you up with invisible hands

And if you ever dare to move
Or simply pass a curious glance down below
To search from whence this touch came
To find the voice that never ceases to call your name

You won't find a face
Nor any stately form of a man
Only a reflection will be seen
However dim it may seem
Not a beaty to attract
No—one so much deeper
A shadow taking form
Through change, through seasons
Through the hail, through the flame
It will not die
For death has been swallowed
The grave has died and has left freedom alive
Freedom to give life through pain, hope through defeat

Let me freely give…

I pray that you will see not what I am
But rather this hope that I have

Here's my brother in a banana suit.





















Here's my friend with a mullet.

Unkoman

Lay to waste this wasteland

Rip these dark glasses off my face
Let me again see the colors of this world
What is beauty? What is rot?
Who am I to rise so arrogantly from my throne of waste
And judge these deep mysteries
Deeper than words, deeper than a face

Yet these eyes torment me without end
Will I let beauty be that which deceives?
"The grass withers and the flower fades"
But beauty will not be so easily stolen away
For only when scars are forgotten
And fire becomes merely a fleeting breath
Then will beauty die too

Deeper
Beauty resides
In the deeper place
Where love can arise

Spring Break

Here's a few pictures from the Spring Break trip to Portland and San Francisco. I'll write something cool later. Or something.
















Hanging out in San Francisco
















Jumping over a Korean
















A few of the homies
















We should start a band

In the Words of Jake

So, Sam and I have been thinking a lot about something Jake told us recently.

He said, "The only reason a guy should ever hang out with girls is to check them out to see if they have qualities characteristic of a good wife."

I don't know. What does everybody think about this?

Thoughts of a Child

I can still remember a lot of the thoughts I had as a kid if I think hard enough. Most of these thoughts have just become so intricately woven into the foundation of who I am now that I don't even ponder the origin of this foundation sometimes. But I was recollecting today about what I believed about Jesus as a kid, and here's some thoughts I had.

I remember knowing Jesus as a kid. It was simple. I believed that Jesus was real, that He cared about me, and that He saw everything I did. I believed God was the Creator of the universe and that He could do anything. Sometimes I would hear adults talking about how they could relate with Peter when he denied Jesus or Jonah when he refused to go to Ninevah or Jesus' friends when they thought Jesus was a ghost after He came back alive. The truth is that I didn't feel that I could relate to these people. Why would Peter ever be ashamed of Jesus? Why would Jonah ever be hesitant to obey God or upset when the wicked repented and followed God? Why were Jesus' friends surprised when He appeared to them after dying--after all, He had told them many times that He was going to die and then come back to life. Why was it hard to believe? Where was their faith?

It's interesting how time can work to shift structures that once seemed strong and proud, free of any impairment or fault. If I was to step out of time to view my thoughts on a linear timeline, I think I would find that I've become the "adult" that I could never understand as a kid. I relate with Peter. I relate with Jonah. I relate with unbelief, lack of faith, apathy, fear, self-centeredness. What happened? I'm gonna use a quote from my friend Ben. He said this:

"I hate reality. It ruins everything."

He used it in a totally different context--like, how we lack money and time to do the awesome ideas we dream up--but it fits into this discussion of "thoughts shaped by time," as well. Time brings with it reality. Not necessarily real reality; rather, reality that we see.

As a child, it was easy to believe that anything was possible. As time progressed, I found out that the world wasn't as idealistic as I thought. For example, God doesn't seem faithful sometimes because He doesn't always answer prayers, even completely pure and good prayers. Does this mean God isn't faithful? In my head I know that God is faithful and that His plan is good, but so often my heart finds it way harder to believe this. I can't claim to completely understand all the underlying reasons behind questions like this, but here are a few things that I do know: 1) God is good, 2) Evil is present in this world, 3) Evil is present in me. I think it's important to understand that real evil plays a big role in destroying ideality. This evil is present in this everyday reality that we experience.

Another thing that I've noticed is that, as a child, there is not a high level of self-monitoring going on. As I grew up, I gradually discovered the eyes of others. This led me to see myself in a whole new way and drastically affected my image and behavior. On one hand, this allowed me to relate to others better, but it also came at the cost of worry ushered in by the fear of rejection.

So yeah...Peter and Jonah. I can relate. But I wish I couldn't. My wish and my goal is to remain a kid forever. Someone who is free from wounds of disappointment, free from the fear of man, free from the scars of rebellion, free from the burden of self-centeredness--Someone who sees trust and love as simple--the way I believe Jesus intended it to be seen.

Jesus, deliver me from this wretched adulthood and let me be a kid again.

"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." -- Matthew 18:3

"Reckless Endangerment" - Part II

So I went to court today. I just showed the judge this picture that my dad took in Indonesia, and he was like "That's a good point; you're free to go." (Read story below if you want to know why I was in court.)

















(Your Honor, in my defense...)

Not really. But things did turn out ok. Turns out the cop wrote the wrong number on my ticket, so the judge didn't know what the charge was (it was "reckless endangerment"). So I kept my mouth shut cause "reckless endangerment" sounds pretty bad, and I think it is. So the judge read the description of the charge from the ticket, which says "clinging to vehicle," and then looked up a charge that says that it's illegal to ride on the sideboards of moving vehicles. It was a total fine of $135. That's not too bad, considering what the original charge was. So, I guess I'll go with that.

I'm hoping to go pick up my confiscated camcorder tape tomorrow. After all, that tape cost me $135. Money can be forgotten...memories are forever...rock on...

A Story of "Reckless Endangerment"

This is a story that Jake wrote on his blog site. It's about our recent Saturday night experience.
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My body was spread out like a hand over the car, my legs draping over the front bumper – a strange sort of frippery – as I clutched the hood with mild concern. I was tempted to pull away the hair blowing into my eyes, but was worried about losing my grip as the car drove along. After all, my free hand was already propping a cell-phone against my face. “What the heck is going on?” came the concerned voice on the other end.

Peering through the windshield I could see two delighted faces, one of which was hidden behind a camcorder with a little red flashing light. I waved at the camera, briefly, before returning to my handhold. “I’m hoping I don’t fall under a wheel-well,” I answered back into the phone.

After several blocks, the car slowed to a stop. The faces behind the glass were agape and well illuminated by the strobing shades of blue and red. I hung up the phone and quickly climbed into the back seat. “I’ll hide the camera under your seat,” said Sam.

“No, leave it out.” Rob took the camera and looked down into it. “I am being pulled over by cops. There are two squad cars,” he narrated.

After a few moments, the first officer tapped on his window, the driver’s side, and asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?"

“Because there was a guy riding on my hood?”

"I want all of your I.D.'s."

The other officer stood at my window and asked me to step out. It was a woman. "Please place your hands on the vehicle. I'm just gonna do a check to see if you have anything you could hurt me with." She patted me up and down, asking things like, "Is that a cell phone? Is that a lighter?" Yes. Yes.

"Could you please explain for me what you were doing?" she asked.

I thought for a moment, vacillating over how to approach an answer. She was going to hear the long of it. "Well, it is laundry night, you see, and I wanted to go to Duds 'n Suds. Rob, the driver, said it didn't make sense, seeing as it is across town. But, the thing you should know about me is that I am a creature of habit." She nodded, taking me very seriously. I had hoped to make her smile. "Anyway, we couldn't agree on where to go, so the guys grabbed my basket of laundry and ran into their car. I chased them and climbed on the hood, hoping to dissuade them from thieving my clothes. All in good fun, of course."

"Uh huh."

"So, he started driving very slowly. He couldn't have been going faster than ten miles-per-hour." That was probably a lie.

She nodded and asked how far we drove. "Oh, I live only a few blocks down. Not far at all." It was more like five blocks. Was I lying?

Back in the car, the male officer asked Rob if the camcorder was on. Rob lifted it up to him, flipping the power switch discreetly just in case he had forgotten to turn it off. The cop took the tape for evidence. If the officers were actually bored enough to watch the tape, they would be delighted to find footage of us driving around town with Ryan in the trunk, pounding and complaining. Plus, they would find heart-rending footage of the guys dancing and emoting to So Happy Together, alongside stock footage of Saudi-Arabians dancing joyously, holding pictures of King Fahd Bin Abdul Aziz.

The woman approached Rob's window and said, "I'm going to give you a citation for reckless endangerment. I could have given you one for criminal negligence, which would be a more expensive fine." She made it sound like she was being magnanimous, and would probably have appreciated it if we had seen things her way, something our expressions obviously betrayed. We tried to be serious, but every time they left our vehicle to talk, they must have seen the car rocking back and forth from our fits of laughter. "You have one week to be in court."

Sam, trying his hardest to restrain his laughter, leaned over to me and whispered, "Isn't this legal in Mexico? [Heck, they stop you if you have fewer than seven people in your vehicle]. I should bolt out of the car to see what they'll do."

After the officers had left, Rob hung his head in despair. "Are you alright?" we asked. I suddenly felt bad for him. The charge was actually fairly serious. He looked up and said, "Man, they took all that great footage."

After all was said and done, we drove to Rob's laundry-mat. The quarter machine wouldn't take our money.
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So yeah, I have to go to court tomorrow. We'll see what happens. I prepared some notes for my defense. In all seriousness, going snowboarding on the weekend is probably more dangerous than what we were doing because I wasn't even driving fast.

We'll see what the judge thinks...

Shinite-noka

My friends and I have been training to be ninjyas for quite some time now. It's not easy being a ninjya. The main reason we put so much time into it is because we're hoping to use it as a means to take over the world some day.

So I'd just like to encourage everyone out there to not give up, but keep pursuing your hopes and dreams even if it gets hard sometimes.

The Kamikaze

Kamikazes.

The concept is fascinating to me. To think that a person could be so in love and yet so detached. Living in reckless abandonment of all that hinders. Reckless abandonment in the name of loyalty and love.

It's a different way of thinking about it. I'm sure all kamikazes did not have this mindset. But I would bet that there was quite a number of them who did indeed see things this way. Giving oneself for one's loved ones. It's a beautiful thing, really.

Kamikaze means "God's wind."

I want to be a kamikaze. I want to be the breath of God, floating freely in the reality of the imperceivable. One who lives in reckless abandonment of all that hinders. Reckless abandonment in the name of loyalty and love.

Watashi ha kamikaze no yoo ni naritai.

I Hate Christianity - Part I: Christianity, the Culture

One time I watched a PBS video called "What About God?" and it was an attempt to reconcile science and religion. And the main thing I remember was that the Christians who held a biblical creation view were only intelligent enough to say stuff like "I believe God created the world in seven days because the Bible says so." That was actually one of the main themes from the video: Christians who believe the Bible are ignorant, and they don't know anything about real science. So, I have mixed feelings on this. It's obviously false that there aren't any scientific-minded people who believe in the biblical account of creation. In fact, there are many incredibly smart scientists who believe in creation as outlined in the Bible. But here's the other part: There are many Christians who only hold to the "The Bible says so" mindset. And this is the mindset that has become associated with the word "Christian," in general.

Here's an observation when looking over the Christians in America: nobody thinks. Nobody needs to; rather, they just need to follow in the steps of the culture that has been laid out before them. It's not hard to be a Christian. There are Christian magazines that tell Christians what to think about pop culture. There are Christian books that tell Christians how to be a successful Christian. There are Christian television shows that tell Christians what to care about. There are Christian talk shows that tell Christians what political views they should have. Christian-ese is the heralded language in churches. "Church" can only be understood in terms of singing and a sermon—apart from that, the concept doesn't exist. "The world" is the workplace and schools. "Witnessing" means wearing some shirt that cleverly rips-off some brand name and instead sticks "Jesus" in the label. Being unashamed means putting some type of Jesus bumper sticker on your car. Speaking truth is always a victory to be rejoiced over regardless of whether or not it makes people hate you. "Winning souls" is the game; manipulation the game piece. Getting saved is easy—just four steps. If one can just get his friend past "the sinner's prayer," ultimate victory has been attained.

This subculture in America has become known as "Christianity."

Where's the problem?

Problem: We associate being part of this Christian subculture with knowing Jesus Christ. That's an incredibly huge problem.

Furthermore, we think that for a person to begin a relationship with Jesus Christ, he/she has to step out of whatever culture he/she was previously in and into this "Christian culture." Having an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ should never force anyone to have to step out of one culture into a completely different culture. It may drastically change a lifestyle, yes, but I don't think that there should ever be a clearcut culture associated with knowing Jesus Christ, as Christianity in America has tried to make. Sometimes it seems Christians are too caught up with creating and maintaining an image of "the ideal Christian" that they forget the profoundness in simply loving others.

I Hate Christianity - Part II: "Hate for Jesus"

More on "Hating Christianity":

So, speaking of hating Christianity, I was chillin' with a friend of mine and a few other people a while back, and they were getting pretty wasted and stuff. So, after a while, religion became the topic of conversation. One of the guys (who was pretty drunk by this time) had many strong opinions on religion, most notably, Christianity. One of his statements, though spoken from an intoxicated mind and extremely tainted worldview, still rings in my head. He said, "If Jesus were still alive today, I would put Him up on the cross again." This statement might arouse shock and anger in most people, whether they are part of the religion of Christianity or not. All it left me with, however, was deep sadness. Sadness for his soul and tainted perception, yes; but also sadness because I understood. I understood why a person could make a statement such as this. By no means should it be justified, but, by all means, it should be understood.

This guy went on to talk about how he had never seen anything good come from church. All he saw was greed—a desire for money and a desire for power. For those of us who have been raised in somewhat conservative Christian homes, we've all heard the "love of money" sermons. I was taught as a kid that there were many churches that only want money and blah blah blah, and we should want to love God more than money. It's totally true, but it's not what I want to talk about. The greedy churches are only a part of a way more subtle bigger problem. This bigger problem is the Christian mindset shaped by the Christian culture.

So often, Christians are too wrapped up in claiming "hate for Jesus" ("If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated Me first." John 15:18) that they don't have the awareness to step back and see how ridiculous they actually look sometimes. I don't want to degrade people who honestly have good hearts, but I think this needs to be said because it is really important for people wrapped up in the Christian subculture to forget the perspectives of those on the "outside." So often, in this Christian subculture, we're bombarded with the ideals of "not being ashamed" and "not caring what others think" and "taking an insult for Jesus" that we have completely subverted any healthy sense of understanding our surroundings. This is why there are masses of people out there who see Christians only as judgmental and self-righteous mama's boys. Words of Christians have never saved anyone. God's pretty good at speaking to people in their own language though.

So...key point: There's a difference between taking an insult for Jesus and being stupid.

Understanding the thoughts of others around us is a vital part of Jesus' most important instructions: to love one another. Knowing a person's thoughts serves as the gateway into their heart. Whenever the focus is taken off of those around us and put on ourselves because (while we blindly claim to exalt the name of Jesus), then we are failing to do the very thing which Jesus tried to drill in our heads the most--to love one another.

I Hate Christianity - Part III: The Christian Drive-by

I remember a couple times back in high school when I would be driving around town with some friends and something would prompt one of them to yell out "Jesus loves you" to people on the streets. All I remember is being really confused. Did they want the passers-by to think they were cool? Like when you meet somebody who's dressed really cool, you want them to think you are cool, so the first thing you do is either try to say something cool or else just give a slight nod that says enough in itself...even though you might never see the person again. I don't think that's what my friends were going for though. Seems like they would've said something like "Boom diggiddy" or "Yo, check it" or "Peace, to all my homies passin by...on the fly..." I'm pretty sure EVERYBODY would agree that those are like...the ultimate cool sayings.

What is more likely is that my friends were trying to spread Jesus' love by yelling out "Jesus loves you!" But this method will never make any sense to me. If I was walking down the street and someone yelled out their window to me "Jesus loves you," I would probably yell back "Prove it!" as they drove away. It's hard for me to believe that simply throwing Jesus' name around will bring deep healing love to this world. It's so effortless. And pointless. Love is a whole different ballgame. But whatever. It's not worth it to make a big deal over something that doesn't matter either way.

However, it's pretty tempting for me to draw an analogy between this experience and a broader picture of the Chrisitan culture in general. It's a really sad analogy. But here it is:

How many times have I driven away after effortlessly voicing a solution or, even worse, an opinion, to a individual in desperate need of real love and friendship? It's easy to be a Christian as long as one can remain comfortably seated in the confines of a vehicle racing through a world marked by poverty and hate. Once in a while we will roll down the window and yell out "Jesus loves you!" so that we feel a little better about ourselves. Saying "Jesus loves you" is easy and requires pretty much zero effort. Becoming Jesus' love can be flippin hard sometimes.

There are a lot of other instances where I've noticed the Christian culture only yelling their beliefs and opinions out the window as they race by. One instance of this is in regard to the issue of homosexuality. It seems as though there are many Christians that are so adamant about "fighting the good fight," (as they might call it--I would call it "treating homosexuals as their archenemies"), that they forget that homosexuals are, in fact, people. People with struggles, wounds, and a need for Jesus' love--just like any other people in the world.

So, where's the practicality in all of this? I think one of the ways that I "drive away" many times is simply by not taking time to pray for others. If God is actually real and if He is actually the Creator of the universe and if He is actually a loving God, then it would totally make sense to ask Him to help other people know more about His love. Yeah, it makes sense. Why not stop the vehicle, get out, and look the passer-by in the eye. What does this passer-by long for? What does this passer-by need?

My friend Mark the Samurai has, at times, been a good example to me of this loving and attentive attitude. Here's parts of an email he sent to me once:

"I picked up a male prostitute two days ago. I preached Christ hard with
amazing love... it was all divine - I drove past him and God told me to pick him up... and I was like 'I don't want to..' but then I was like... 'man ... so much for my prayer that I will be poor and contrite as dust...' so I turned around and gladly parked and walked up to him... he was standing outside of a bar and he was dressed super gay. I was like.. 'what's up dude? Wanna go get some Taco Johns? I'll pay!' He was like'...uh... uh.... ok...'"

"I talked to that guy.... he was completely miserable... he gets $40 every time he lets this older rich guy use him. My heart just broke.... we had Taco Johns and I kept telling him stuff like 'Dude, God is SO AWESOME... He has a PERFECT plan for you! He will give you complete joy and peace! Look at me...' (he looked me in the eyes for once) I said 'I see so much darkness in your eyes' - I said this compassionately... not mean or judgemental... just lamenting with him about his horrible life... I was like, 'Dude, Christ will put light and happiness in your eyes, you need to give the Lord your life man...'"

That's the real stuff. Listening to God. Sometimes I think Christians can be too busy going to church to listen to God. I don't mean that statement literally. Ya gotta read a little deeper. What I mean is that so many Christians that I've known worry way more about following their religion than about following Jesus.

Yeah, so...Death to religion.

Farewell.

New Year's in Japan

I spent New Year's Day in Japan hanging out with all my Jap friends. While we were in Japan, we went to Osaka Jo, Kinkakuji (gold temple in Kyoto), Toudaiji (some place with a big statue of Buddha), and random other places.

It was interesting to see how completely different Indonesian and Japanese cultures are. They were polar opposites in so many ways. Japan is super expensive, Indonesia is super cheap; Japan is very technologically advanced, Indonesia isn't (my parents just sent me a story about a train roof collapsing in Jakarta from so many people riding on the top of the train); Japan people are very busy, Indonesia people can commonly be seen sitting alongside the streets with nothing to do; etc.

As a final assessment, I would probably have to say I liked Indonesia better than Japan (gomen nasai, Nihonjins). It's hard to beat a place with a tropical climate where the food is good, everything is cheap, and there are no rules. Oh yeah, and the people are super friendly all the time. Indonesia is my home. But, hey...let's not forget that Japan was pretty flippin awesome, too.

Here's some pictures of me and my homies in Japan.





















My Japanese friend's house
















Near Osaka Castle





















Some famous place in Japan

Christmas at the Equator

Yo Yo Diggiddy. So I'm in Indonesia chillin at my parents' house for Christmas. It's pretty cool. It's Christmas today. The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was go swimming in the pool in the backyard.

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Indonesia has been fun. We explored a volcano and some jungle islands so far. My brother got eaten by a shark. It was sad for a while, but it's been three days so I'm over it now.

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Ok, so just kiddin about the shark part. But here's some pictures of the other stuff.

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In the jungle

At a volcano

In a volcano

Dreaming Through Dark Glass

I think I glanced at your face as you walked through my life
Seems like we shared a laugh, maybe we cried
I remember saying farewell before awakening to my next dream
Diluted with time, these memories will be
Though so fervently they drive us now
As we strive in our vain labor, aloof in our dream

And when the blossoms cease to bloom
On that day when I, at last, awake
Will a gem be found in the ashes?
Will there be a ring in the decay?
Were these dreams in vain?
Was there any truth to be saved?

Come, Perfection, and shatter these delusive shades that I see
Let the darkness fade to nothing
As I stand face to face with thee
Let me see the eternal beauty
In these leaves' endless change

The Banquet Fest

A lot of Asians showed up

The epitome of "cool"

Yeah...she totally digs me...

Thanksgiving Days

Here are some cool moments that were captured over the Thanksgiving break.
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Jumping off a roof

Chillin on top of a silo in ND

The homies

China Should Take Over The World

Initially, I wasn't going to express my world and political views on this website, but this morning when I was riding through the forest on my bike, sipping my morning coffee, I came to the realization that these views need to be heard.

I think China should take over the world by whatever means necessary. I've always wanted to live in China, and the easiest way for that to happen is for the place I'm living now to become China. So the question arises of "Maybe not everyone wants to live in China." Well...I disagree. If people were more honest with themselves I think they might find that, yes, they too have a deep desire to live in China.

If there are certain countries that resist China's peaceful aggression, then those countries should be taken by force or else completely destroyed. It makes sense.

I also think that everyone should speak Chinese, or at least some form of "Asian." My Japanese friend (his name is Sho Nakijima, in case anybody knows him) once told me that "it's all the same," referring to Asian languages. I actually didn't know that for a fact until he told me. So yeah, all Asian languages are the same, I guess.

The reasons why China should take over the world are pretty obvious, I think. So...I'm not even going to write about them.

Well, that's about it. Until next time!

Oh, and I'll post a picture of that Japanese guy so that everyone can see what "cool" is.
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Flying Like A Cat

So yeah, I used to be pretty good at flying, but then I don't know what happened. All I know is that I can't even dunk a basketball now.

I Like To Biking

I'm broken.

I need to be whole.

...which means I need to be broken
(but I don't know what brokenness is)
...which means I need to trust
(but I don't know what trust is)
...which means I need to be confident in love
(but I don't know what love is)
...which means I'm shallow
(I don't know who I am)
...which means I'm deep
(cause I know Love)

Dude, this is so abstract and practical at the same time. Ya gotta read Jake's blog called "Know Thyself" to even come close to understanding the last line. http://jacobfranklinbruner.blogspot.com/

Cool Story

One time I fell off a 30-ft cliff at Zion Canyon National Park. It was pretty cool except I couldn't walk for a week.

THE END

Building A Bridge From Brokenness

Sadness hides behind my eyes
Like a glacial mass floating below
My heart cries, but you would never know
Nor would it matter if you were told

Day after day my heart pleads life for you
While you dance alone in your casket of gold
So secure in your cocoon, so you think
But where is your hope?

May I be cursed if I rest
And sleep as you do in your death
Lest I cease to fill this gap
And forget to cry for you

I want to fall on my knees
To lift you high to my King
For I can never be the savior you need
Though my heart oft' desires this deceit

I can only fall so that you can see beyond me
Past the imperfection, past the incomplete
To the One Who unites
What I am and what I can't be

Numb To The World

Sometime around a week ago, I found myself using a phrase that I often hear falling from my own lips--"numb to the world." I think I was politely asked by someone with whom I was in a one-on-one conversation if it would be ok for them to talk with another person instead, because a certain need had come up. So, essentially, this person was asking if she could ditch her conversation with me for another more-urgent conversation. This person (who knows me well) half-jokingly added, "You won't feel rejected or anything, will you?" My response was "Of course not, I'm numb to the world." She laughed because it caught her by surprise, but she probably wants to talk seriously with me about that sometime. Who knows. I think it's funny.

I find myself using this phrase a lot in situations similar to this one. This phrase has been known to generate responses such as "Oh, do you need to talk?" or "That's sad" or else they just think in their head that I'm suicidal or somethin. But yeah, I could care less, cause I'm numb to the world. Many times when I use this phrase, I'm actually totally serious, but no one would ever know cause it actually sounds really funny in most conversations. And I'm fine with that, cause...I'm numb to the world. So ok...seriously, the fact is that this world is filled with too much disappointment to expect perfection. People will let you down, so it's important not to expect to receive too much from others. So let me go into some more detail about this phrase that everybody should start using.

One way in which I use the phrase "numb to the world" is to describe a security in one's worldview such that the frequent irresponsibility of others does not produce feelings of anxiety, discontentment, or bitterness in one's mind. The fact is this: No matter how much this world strives to uphold justice, injustice will be remain strong. No matter how much people dream up solutions leading toward an ideal world, this world will continue to be real. What I mean is this: I believe that as long as we live in a "fallen world," people will continue to be selfish and irresponsible no matter what kind of steps humankind takes to solve it. And I think this selfishness and irresponsibility is what defines a fallen world. So it's one big ugly cycle. Selfishness leads to selfishness, irresponsibility leads to irresponsibility.

Note: I'm obviously using the words "people" and "world" as super-generalized terms to convey the overall direction of the majority. Kind of like statistics, ya know?

So, that's pretty cool. Now what? How does one go about living in this world of reality filled with strife, discontentment, and carelessness? The reason I can't use the word "people" to describe the world in its entirety is because I know many people who have decided to go against the grain. People who have truly taken the bold steps of abandoning the instinctual selfish desires and have decided to love others selflessly--no matter what the cost.

I see the world's version of "love" every day, but real love is rare. It's not hard to be polite to someone as long as they are polite in return. It's not hard to be kind to someone as long as they are kind in return. It's not hard to spill your deepest longings and struggles to a person as long as they listen in return. It's not hard to give to someone as long as you are recognized in return. But scratch the "in return"'s and what do ya got? To love wholeheartedly without even being given a passing glance in return? What could be worse? Name something that could be more unjust! How is this possible when every bone in our body cries out at the injustice shown to our own well-being? How is this abandonment achieved? And from what mystical internal source does this love flow? And what is the desired end?

So check this thought out: I don't know if love can truly be called love if it doesn't have a source. Can love arise merely from goodwill? I think a human's two deepest longings are 1) To be loved and 2) To love. And I believe they are achieved in this order. If one doesn't know what it is to be loved with real love, it subverts his/her ability to be a source of real love.

So..."numb to the world"...

Being numb to the world takes into account the reality that this world is lacking real love. A person could complain all flippin day about the injustices showed to him/her and be completely right, but the only thing that would be achieved from that is fewer friends for that person. Everyone in the world, I'm sure, could make a truly valid case for themselves in regard to the injustices that have been shown to them. But who wants to hear it? A far more important question would be this: Now what? So, your life is horrible, and everybody hates you...what are you gonna do? Currently, it almost seems that the most popular conclusion is "to become a source of injustice for someone else." Brilliant.

So, this "numb to the world" thing is all about fulfilling one's own responsibility in the midst of a battlefield of injustice, pain, and hate. If, during the hideous battle, one is pierced with bullets of scorn or stabbed with a dagger of betrayal, then it is to carry on with a will to love, regardless. One could argue that selfless love is not a responsibility. Maybe that's right...maybe it's not. It all depends on whether or not there exists a source of real love flowing into one's own life to heal what has been broken. If not, I don't see how there is a responsibility to love. If there is, however, a deep Source of true eternal life-giving love active in one's life, there is a responsibility. There is a responsibility to make this Love known, not for the sake of self...it's so much bigger than that...but for the sake of Love. Because this Love has all the scars from the battlefield. And not even once did this Love falter during the battle.

You can read about that in Isaiah 53, though.

The Thought of Love

What is life? What is purpose? And what does it mean to be driven?

Here are some thoughts that keep me living:

The thought that there is a person who has never known that love is more than a kiss.

The thought that there is a person who has never envisioned self through the eyes of a lover.

The thought that there is a person who has never been the object of a friend's sorrowful tears of love when in great need.

The thought that there is a person who has never known the feeling of such sickness and exhaustion from laughter that the very inkling of it beckons only a delightful dread.

The thought that there is a person who has never shared delight in accomplishment with a caring father.

The thought that there is a person who has never been the object of pure affection from a gentle mother.

The thought that there is a person who has never known fulfillment through abandonment, joy through pain, peace through darkness, life through death.

The thought that there is a person who has never experienced the contentment of brokenness.

The thought that there is a person who has never known the substance of satisfaction.

The thought that there is a person who has never experienced the beautiful agony of tears for a friend.

Candy

I usually eat a lot of candy right before I go to bed, and then I can't get to sleep because there's a lot of sugar in my body.

Yeah, I hate it.

More Fighting

News from the Weekend:

Hanging Out at Perkins

Mark and I got into a fight again. I always win.

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Night Hiking with Asians

The Crew

Jake teaching the children

Chillin like ninjyas

Peter Pan

I never wanna grow up. I have only disdain for the world of professionalism. I can't imagine anything worse than my whole life becoming engineering (or some other similar occupation). Not that I find engineering boring. I find engineers boring. I find a life submerged in an engineering occupation an extremely dull way to live. My plan has always been to use engineering only as a means to establish my location in the world and help people. I hope it doesn't take over my life. Most of these thoughts stem from my comparison of my current life and the life of the professional world. It's a world that teaches its followers that life is a competition of formality. Whoever dresses the nicest is the most "professional" and wins. It is acceptable for honesty to be set aside so that impression can take main stage. Ugh...the thought is sickening.

Yeah, so obviously I'm not catching the whole picture. But it's a real side of the professional world and I hate it. So I think this is why I love Peter Pan so much. He's free from the learned formality that nobody likes anyway. People are just too scared of being different, and would rather be uncomfortable and nervous in a formal setting than to destroy their image by appearing to be, in some way, "unprofessional." God forbid.

Another reason I like Peter Pan is cause he can fly.

So, what if tuxes are actually NOT "dressy"? WHAT IF??? That would rock some people's world. I don't think they're dressy. "Dressy" is an opinion, and it's too bad that the majority has the learned opinion that tuxes are dressy.

Beautiful Agony

This is another song that I wrote. It's influenced a lot by the first part of Ezekiel 16 and random people who have come and gone in my life.
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In my distress, naked, drowing in my blood, I cried
When I should have been pitied
When I should have been scorned
You covered my shame, you gave me Your robe
You made me beautiful, I'm so beautiful
Why am I so beautiful (with these scars on my face and my heart)?
Why am I so beautiful (though I've fallen over and over again)?
So beautiful
Why are these riches mine?
What happened to justice?
Where has the death gone
For which I labored so hard?

She's broken, longing to be cherished
Dying to be embraced in real love
All she's known has betrayed her
Who will love her?
Is there anyone to embrace her?
Is there any love left to spend?

He hides behind his mask
Clever, cool, preoccupied
Would he really know if he died?
Will someone tell him to live?
Will anyone care enough to cry for him?

On my knees before You
Break my heart over and over again
Please let me cry
If I am denied this
Please let me die

On my knees before You
Break my heart over and over again
What else should I live for?
In this pain I have found life

I love you (my friend)
It kills me (my friend)
You've given me such a beautiful agony
Beautiful agony
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Heaven and Drugs

I wish I was black. Ok, anyways...I was writing a comment on Jake's blog site and I accidently wrote a blog.
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"The Jake that is in Heaven, ex-many years from now, is not only the same me from earth, but a more fully expressed me." - Jake

Yeah, dude...like...truth will be exalted. Nothing fake. Truth about who we were meant to be as individuals made in the image of God. Personality is a crazy and awesome invention.

My friend once said: "I just wish we weren't so afraid of exposure, of letting ourselves, these identities we put so much stock in, be open to public mockery."

I'd just like to add to his comment by saying "Me, too."

Here is another quote by him (it's Jake, by the way): "You wouldn't care about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they actually do."

This is one of the reasons I don't get drunk. In my opinion, most people use drunkenness as a means to be who they truly want to be: a person exposed, yet free from nagging worries of thoughts that others may have of them. They are free to be dumb.

I have discovered that drunkenness is not necessary for an individual to be in this state of "worry-free dumbness." I live in a world where I am "naturally drunk" and I would definitely recommend it. I've been asked numerous times the question "Are you drunk?" and my response every time is "Always."

The first thought that comes to people's minds when they first see my friend Mark is usually "Is he high?" Mainly becuase he looks high (always) and because he acts high (almost always). He's been questioned by police and once he got kicked out of a volleyball tournament because he looked like a dealer. And he was jumping off the walls. But Mark's never done drugs.

So, why are abnormal behaviors such as dropkicking, jumping off walls, falling off chairs, running on tables, spaz dancing, etc. associated with mind-altering substances? I think it's because people have been taught that they can't get a job in the real world unless they cut their hair and dress nice. Maybe that's true...but...yeah, it's probably true. Hmm...

DUDE, I'm so tired. I'm going to bed. Why didn't I go to bed two hours ago? Why are my pants on fire?

Movie-ing

So anyways...

I got a great idea for a movie. There would be a guy named Taik, and he would be a really deep sleeper. And in his sleep he would kill people and throw them in a river. So he would wake up and not be able to find his family or friends because he killed them and threw them in a river in his sleep, so he would go searching for them. But every night he would kill more people in his sleep and not know it. So this would keep happening until he killed everybody in the whole world, and then he would wake up and say "Huh? Where is everybody?"

Yeah, I'd watch it.

Backflips

I'd have to say that my biggest accomplishment in life, thus far, has been learning how to do backflips off of trees and walls.

It hasn't been an easy road, however...















One time I broke my ankle doing a backflip off of a wall.

Here's how it went down:

I was at freshman orientation at Montana State University in Bozeman during the summer of 2003. I was chillin with a few guys who I didn't really know, and we decided to check out the dance for a bit. So...the dance was incredibly boring, of course. So, I was like "We should do something cool, like...backflips off walls." And the guys were like "Dude, can you do that?" And I was like, "Of course, I'm pretty awesome." Uhm...ok, so I don't remember what I said, but I had done backflips off walls before--but never on a hard tile floor. So I ventured outside to practice on the grass just to make sure I was warmed up. I was feeling good, so off I went back into the ballroom to pull off this crazy feat.

I begin doing some backflips in the corner, still feeling pretty good. Every time I would do one, it seems as though another person would notice and come tell me "Do that again, that was awesome!" So, one thing that is important to understand about doing backflips off walls: If you do them continuously, they make you tired. So I started getting tired. I was pretty much ready to quit after only a few backflips, but people were enjoying it, so I figured I might as well let them enjoy something at the dance since everything else about the dance was about as fun as staring at...a dead horse. Or somethin.

So, guess what happened next?

Yep, suddenly I find myself in the middle of a rotation off the wall, thinking to myslef, "Hmm...that's not where the ground is supposed to be." I land. I'm sitting down. I look at my feet. Whadda ya know? My right foot was at a 90° angle with my leg (see picture). I have to admit, it was pretty awesome. It was pretty sick, too, and I didn't want to freak anybody out. So, I decided to make it look normal again. The first whack didn't budge it. But the second whack at least made the bone parallel to my leg again. Yeah, and besides, there's no way I would've rode all the way to the hospital having to look at my foot sticking out to the side like that.

Note: This picture is only a reenactment of an actual event and not the actual event itself.

So, ambulance came, blah blah blah, spent a couple nights in the hospital, blah blah blah, surgery, blah blah blah. Yeah, looking back on it, I can say that I'm glad it happened. Why?

Because it's a good conversation starter.

Oh, by the way, the not-so-cool part to all of this is that I was planning to go to Great Britain the next week to play basketball. But I gotta go the following summer, so it's all good.

The One That Nobody Reads Cause It's Too Long

During the summers in high school, my friends and I were counselors at a kid's Bible camp called Camp Bentley. Those times are some of the coolest memories I have. This camp wasn't one of those rich church camps where only good kids went to have fun for the summer. There were quite a few kids who were raised in the church that came every year, but the main way we invited kids was by going to all the low-income housing in the surrounding cities and telling the kids' parents that they only had to pay 5 bucks for their kids to come to a week of camp. The rest of the money was paid for by random people and churches.

Most of these kids did not come from the best homes. It wasn't uncommon for some of these kids to have never experienced real love from adults or, especially, from teenagers. Many of these kids fell in love with the environment immediately. People actually noticed them here! It was such a new and exciting experience for so many of them.

I think back to a dream my friend Mark shared with me last summer when we were at this camp. I'm just gonna use his words cause he describes it best:

"I was at Camp Bentley and all the kids were standing around in different places... some happy some sad, just like real life...and I was overjoyed and overflowing with God's love... and I was carrying a ... blanket... but it wasn't a blanket at all. And as I approached a kid, his face lit up and joy flowed from me to him, and his excitement was all because he saw Jesus Christ's love and felt it. and as I got close to him, I took the sheet, blanket, whatever it was and wrapped it around the kid, the kid also becamse absolutely radiant with peace and tranquillity! I went to the next kid... and did the same with that girl, and then others.

I prayed hard about what it meant, and I asked God to tell me what the blanket thing meant, and when I said "amen." a verse from Song of Solomon came into my head.. "His banner over me is love." That is what was to change those kids at camp.... when people actually experience that joy and victory of God's love that He has for them, how can anyone resist? The only response that makes any sense is to instantly leave your former ways and walk in His love!"

It's amazing to sit back and watch the transforming force of love at work in the kids' lives. I've watched many of these kids grow up. Some have followed the path of love that was set before them (a lot of these kids are actually my good friends now and have become the new generation of counselors at this camp), and others have completely forgotten that they were ever loved, leading to a continued life of hopelessness and destruction.

So often my thoughts are only full of the impossibility of it all. Can one week out of the whole year accomplish anything worthwhile in a kid's life? A kid who will live the rest of those 52 weeks at a home full of strife, anger, jealousy, selfishness? But...why was the one week different? Was it because I was there? Was it because Mark was there? Or was it because God was there? It brings me back to the reality that I can't change people. I can love people. I can't change people. God is the Author to which the able arm belongs--the arm to reach down into the every day happenin's and touch a life.

Still, I'm left with so many questions when I observe the lives that these kids call "normal." Why does life have to be cruel? Why does innocence have to be destroyed? Why does love have to be hidden?

I put a lot of these thoughts into a song that I wrote a few years ago. It's called Camp Bentley.
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I remember all the good times we had
I remember the laughs, the tears, the goodbyes
I miss you so much but you've forgotten who I am
I cried for you
I long for you to understand

Although it hurts
I don't care
If you forget
That I ever cared about you
But I pray
No matter what
That you won't forget
The love that God has for you

It kills me to know
That you may slip away
It'd hurt me so much to see
You crumble and fall
And never know

Think back, remember
Please don't run from your only pleasant memories

I pray for you
I plead to God for your soul
Although it seems so hopeless
I know you're in his hands

Dear God above,
What are the chances
That they'll turn to you
And give you their lives?
But I believe in your perfect plan
And I believe that you can do the impossible
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The Death of the Magnetron

I often find myself alone, sitting quietly, swept away in thoughts from deep within. Thoughts of dreams dared to be dreamt, goals yet to be achieved, hopes yet to be satisfied. Will I ever become that person that I see? Will I ever catch those elusive dreams? Will I ever achieve what others see as impossible?

I will. I shall. I dare.

This is a little poem I wrote about one of my deepest dreams:

They say "You're not."
I say "I am."
They say "You can't."
I say "I can."
They say "You won't."
I say "I shall."
If only they knew
What lies within.
If only they saw
What I can see.
When I dare
I become.
When I dream
I chew gum.
After a season
they will know
That I was destined to be
a Mighty Sumo.





















This is one of my heroes. I call him "Big K."

Ashes To Beauty

Say goodbye to wit, farewell to charm
So long to those fortresses which I once lived on
Uncovered, I stand with blood on my hands
This greed, this lust, this is who I am
Lost in desire, when will it end?
Will bondage be my master?
Will darkness be my life?
How long will I labor for the death which I hate?

I'm just a man, I can be nothing more
In desperate need, I call to You, my Love
I lay my incomplete all at Your feet
Let the fire burn, let the rain fall
Until, at last, love consumes my soul
I long to be driven, driven by longing
Driven by tears, compelled by a passion so pure

I still stand uncovered, but with You at my side
No longer will my face be known, rather
Visions of You will come to mind
I will fall so that You can stand, beautiful
Through the dust, through the haze

What is my life, but merely a death that gives breath.

At the Feet of Jesus

Here is something that my friend Jake "the Snake" wrote. It's pretty flippin awesome.
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One evening during worship service, some particular lyrics struck me forcibly. They spoke of laying everything at the feet of Jesus. A scenario penetrated my thoughts in which I saw myself approaching my Heavenly Father. He appeared before me as a man with great authority in his face, revealed through the time worn wrinkles about his eyes; eyes that I met with both fear and exaltation. Making my way before Him was both arduous and humiliating, as I was carrying with me all the weight of my iniquities. However, I gained comfort in the warm grin that spread across His face, not unlike that of a parent watching his or her child struggle to walk for the very first time.

Now, I was not merely approaching the Almighty out of a sense of curiosity; I was a man on a mission. You see, these weights I carried were making life very difficult for me. I had been trying to break free of them for a long time, each time with a different tool. No matter how hard I tried, the weights went unaffected. Worst of all, in all my efforts at hammering (an exercise in vanity as well as futility) I had become distracted to the point of being unable to hear the Lord calling my name and offering a simple solution.

But, alas, here I stood, looking over what I had brought with me, scanning for which object to give him first. With a sense of resolve, I picked up one of the weights on which was written "Jealousy". He took it into His hands and with a simple breath it was blown into dust. Astonished, I went for the next one, an even bigger one entitled "Idolatry." God wrapped his powerful hands around it and reduced it into rubble. All the more impressed, I felt like I was, dare I say, challenging God. I could almost hear myself saying, "But what about this –– this I gotta see!" One by one, he broke apart the things that kept me from Him, characteristics I’d always referred to as being "ceaselessly human".

Finally, I came upon my greatest obstacle –– a towering stone block entitled "Pride." This time, however, God ushered me to the stone and handed me the chisel. Sensing my confusion, He explained that I had shown humility when I decided to come before him and that only I could make that decision. God is, as they say, a gentleman. Now He was allowing me to help Him in the destruction of this most awful weight. Feeling privileged, I began chiseling away at the stone block. As time wore on, I struck a core that I was unable to penetrate. I continued chiseling around the core until it revealed an image of myself, only one that was horribly disfigured and mutilated. Unable to look upon it, let alone continue in my efforts, God once again took it
and broke it into nothing.

Once pride was demolished, I was able to offer up some stone tablets which represented passions in my life that took precedence over Him. This is where I grew a bit reluctant, after all - immersing myself in my art and music were sources of great comfort. God looked them over for a bit, as if deciding what to do with them. Then he smiled wryly, took out a pen, and wrote his name on each tablet, and handed them back to me. After all that had been done, I looked around for something I could offer God in return. Then I felt an object in my back pocket. Curious as to what it could be, I withdrew a small stone on which was written, "My desire; to do God’s will and follow the path He had chosen for me." My face grew red with embarrassment. This was all? Just this little pebble that I had hardly ever noticed? Sheepishly, I handed it to Him. He cupped it in his hands with care, as if he were holding something very fragile and precious. Then He un-cupped His hands and it became a beautiful crown, which he placed upon my head. With that he turned me around and sent me on my way. But before I could leave I turned, ran back and embraced my heavenly Father, the author of my soul.

(http://jacobfranklinbruner.blogspot.com/)

Dropkick

My friend Mark and I fight a lot. One time we made a movie about a hero named "Math Man." It was pretty intense. Have a great day everybody!

Scars Made Beautiful

Aight, so this guy is walking through a ghetto…no, more like a junkyard—a dirty, trashy place. He walks toward brilliant light near the horizon. The light can be seen even through the haziness and smoke that encases the junkyard. As he walks, crowns are thrown to him from the walls of junk that line the path upon which he is walking. The crowns look like they are made of a cheap plastic or paper. They resemble something like a crown that you would get from Burger King. As the crowns are thrown at him and on his path, the man continues to walk almost oblivious to the fact that crowns are being thrown at him. Many crowns hit him and fall to the ground beside him as he walks. Some of the crowns are crushed underfoot as he trudges through the junkyard.

The man nears the border of the junkyard. Before departing and entering through the haze into the brilliant light, he reaches out to catch one of the paper crowns being thrown at him. He stops and looks at it thoughtfully as if inspecting it—though not in great detail. He smirks and slowly shakes his head. Then, with an almost mischievous smile on his face, he tosses the crown to the ground near a pile of dirty and crushed other paper crowns. He moves on, out of the junkyard and into the light.

As he enters the light, one more crown is thrown at him, this time from the direction of the light. This crown, however, is different. This is not a Burger King crown. This is an incredibly beautiful pure-gold crown decorated with precious stones. He catches it. It's heavy. Holding it in both hands, he gazes at it. His eyes are fixed on the crown. He is in deep thought—deep recollection of things past. Millions of precious memories are churning in his head. His gaze is fixed. His mind is racing. Looking into his eyes reveals the attitude of his spirit. They show a deep gratitude—deeper than any words could express. They show an overwhelming joy. They show an unmatched devotion—devotion so pure that even death would seem as nothing in its path. His eyes remain fixed. This was the reason. His strivings, his tears, his pain, his efforts, his devotion—he held them now in his hands. Scars made beautiful. Hope fulfilled. This is why I was afflicted—this is why I was rejected—this is why I was hated. He remembered the scorn. He remembered the suffering. He remembered the rejection. He remembered the pain. But Jesus Christ…the name was like a spark in the man's mind—a fire of passion ignited in the man's eyes. He had confessed the Name before men, and his name had been confessed before the Father.

I Love Trees

I love trees because they are green and tall and they can fly.

THE END