Barry Bonds: You are dead to baseball.

There is an indiputable fact about the game that I've come to love over the course of my lifetime. The reaction time required to hit a 90 mph fastball from a major league pitcher has easily got to be one of the most difficult things to do in sports, let alone do it well. Don't believe me? Check out this link that will test your reaction time, and this involves only clicking your mouse, let alone using your entire body to hit a small ball with a bat weighing just under a pound with great precision. There is only one game that you can fail 7 times out of 10 and still be considered the greatest hitter in all of baseball, case and point...Barry Bonds: Career Average of .300.

It is no surprise that since his 73 home run season back in 2001, baseball has been swarmed with controversy with the emergence of rumors that players have been abusing steroids in baseball since the early 90's. Jose Conseco wrote a book in 2005 called "Juiced" in which he documented alleged use of steroids by many of the last decades greatest ball players including Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa, propelling them to the much revered "home run race" back in 1998, that was a blast for the hearts of fans and for the hearts of baseball. Everyone believed that the modern superstar status, selfish players, impossible team loyalty, had tarnished the game beyond repair before the 1998 season. As a Cardinals fan, McGuire became my instant hero. I saw him play once in one of his injury laiden last seasons in the majors, the fans roared, and the cameras clicked. It was ephereal. He struck out on three straight pitches, but it didn't matter to me, he was my hero for what he did for baseball.

Since then it has been hard for me to look objectively at his role in the steroid scandal, partially because he was a big guy throughout his entire career, let alone in the year he hit 70 homers. The fact remains that he played before mandatory steroid testing was implemented in baseball, and it is no surprise that owners are just as guilty for the tarnishing of the game. Did they know that players were juicing since the late 80's? Probably. Did they do anything about it? No. Why? Because fans dig the long ball. They want to see the ball hit higher, longer, screaming out of the stadium into the distance, because it is simply an adrenaline rush. Players hitting more home runs = more fans coming to games, and baseball taking the media spotlight during the 1998 home run race. Now shortly thereafter is where Barry Bonds comes into play.

In the newest book out alleging his steroid use "Game of Shadows," that documents Bonds steroid use in detail since 1998, I believe because suddenly his 15 years of MVP play were taking a backseat to the long ball. Anything from human growth hormone to steroids used in horses, apparently Bonds took it. He ballooned from this in his rookie season:

170 pound Rookie


to a 230 behemoth


I'll leave the more complicated statistics to a great writer, Ben Alamar, who documents the change in Bond's performance before and after his alleged steroid abuse. The following table shows the career statistics of those players with number most like those of Barry Bonds as identified by baseballreference.com. All this information is taken directly from ProTrade.com and its subsequent writer.

Athlete R HR RBI BB OBP SLG OPS+
Barry Bonds 2078 708 1853 2311 0.442 0.611 184
Willie Mays 2062 660 1903 1464 0.385 0.565 158
Babe Ruth 2175 714 2217 2062 0.474 0.690 207
Frank Robinson 1829 586 1812 1420 0.389 0.537 154
Hank Aaron 2174 755 2297 1402 0.377 0.567 158
Rafael Palmeiro 1663 569 1835 1353 0.371 0.515 132
Ted Williams 1798 521 1839 2021 0.483 0.633 190
Reggie Jackson 1551 563 1702 1375 0.358 0.493 140
Dave Winfield 1669 465 1833 1216 0.356 0.480 133
Stan Musial 1949 475 1951 1599 0.420 0.566 161
Carl Yastrzemski 1689 419 1663 1683 0.382 0.469 133

"The Game of Shadows" indicates that Barry Bonds began using steroids at 34, so theoretically his numbers can be divided into pre-steroid and post-steroid numbers. The following table represents the numbers of all the same players in comparison to Barry Bonds before they turned 34, and how his number compare percentage wise.

Athlete R HR RBI BB OBP SLG OPS+
Barry Bonds 1364 411 1216 1357 0.411 0.556 163
Willie Mays 1379 453 1290 873 0.388 0.589 162
Babe Ruth 1447 470 1411 1358 0.479 0.709 214
Frank Robinson 1428 450 1377 1017 0.394 0.555 157
Hank Aaron 1519 481 1541 802 0.374 0.565 157
Rafael Palmeiro 1061 314 1079 735 0.365 0.503 132
Ted Williams 1275 324 1264 1329 0.484 0.634 190
Reggie Jackson 1051 369 1120 851 0.361 0.508 149
Dave Winfield 1045 281 1130 714 0.355 0.481 135
Stan Musial 1396 292 1253 1054 0.431 0.584 171
-
Average 1289 381.5 1273.8 970.3 0.403 0.569 163
Bonds/Average 106% 108% 95% 140% 102% 98% 100%

Now lets take a look at his numbers in comparison after age 34, the alleged year he began using steroids.

Athlete R HR RBI BB OBP SLG OPS+
Barry Bonds 714 297 637 954 0.515 0.756 232
Willie Mays 683 207 613 591 0.376 0.499 146
Babe Ruth 728 244 806 704 0.465 0.653 194
Frank Robinson 401 136 435 403 0.375 0.483 145
Hank Aaron 655 274 756 600 0.373 0.533 151
Rafael Palmeiro 602 255 756 618 0.38 0.535 132
Ted Williams 523 197 575 692 0.478 0.634 191
Reggie Jackson 500 194 582 524 0.345 0.458 121
Dave Winfield 624 184 703 502 0.35 0.465 120
Stan Musial 553 183 698 545 0.39 0.514 137
Carl Yastrzemski 669 164 742 688 0.365 0.435 116
-
Average 593.8 203.8 666.6 586.7 0.3897 0.521 145.3
Bonds/Average 120% 146% 96% 163% 132% 145% 160%

Well it is obvious that his stats were very blown up, so what would his stats look like if he wouldn't have taken steroids?

Table Four: Steroid Adjusted Statistics
Athlete R HR RBI BB OBP SLG OPS+
Avg - Age 34-40 593.8 203.8 666.6 586.7 0.3897 0.5209 145.3
Bonds/Avg (34-40) 120% 146% 96% 163% 132% 145% 160%
Bonds/Avg (20-33) 106% 108% 95% 140% 102% 98% 100%
-
Adjusted Stats 628.3 219.5 636 820 0.396 0.508 145
Steroid Adjustment 85.64 77.5 0.692 133.5 0.118 0.248 86.7

"Applying the pre-steroid ratio to the post-steroid average of the ten comparable players, one can calculate adjusted statistics that might have been had Bonds not taken steroids. This calculation shows that approximately 77.5 of Bonds' 297 homeruns, or 26%, (from age 34 through 40) were attributable to steroids." (Ben Alamar, ProTrade.com)

Are you convinced yet?

I happen to be a firm believer that America's pasttime mirrors all that is good and bad about the United States, and to that same respect, American life. The corruption, the cheating, and the betting has all destroyed the heart of what our country stands for. What happened to the legends of old? The Sultan of Swat, The Iron Horse, Hammerin Hank. America is the Field of Dreams...from the greatest baseball movie ever made "The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again." Is this what we want to remember...cheating, corruption, for fame and a few more dollars in the players' and owners' pockets?

Barry Bonds was asked if the 2006 season was going to be his last, considering he is a mere 48 shy of Hank Aaron's all time mark. His response? "I've never cared about records anyways." The most coveted record in baseball, let alone in all of sports...and he just simply doesn't care? Thats not good enough for me, and thats not good enough for baseball.

So what about baseball's cheaters? Oh, they will be remembered as some of the best, but to quote from Sandlot: "Heroes get remembered, but legends never die." So what about me? I'm crossing my fingers for Hammerin' Hank...because Barry's next 48, and the last 77.5, are null and void.

What I learned from the father of communism

"The production of ideas, of conceptions, of consciousness, is at first directly interwoven with the material activity and the material intercourse of men, the language of real life."

-Karl Marx, The German Ideology


German people are weird.

What if we are just God's salt, and he is just waiting to eat us?

There are only three kinds of people: writers, singers, and the dead.

God has a way of putting things into context.

Colon rectum

I don't know what you were thinking, but that is the scientific name for the leiodid beetle, I'm surprised you didn't know that.

Canadian Fakin'

A shuttle bus from a strip club drives by us on the street and yells
"Do you want some free passes!? -Crazy Stripper Lady
"What!?" -Nathan
"Do you guys want to see some tight asses!?" -Crazy stripper lady
"NO thanks... I don't wear glasses!" -Nathan

A lady on the corner asks us if we want coupons for something (In English)
"I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish" -Nathan


After watching an army ad on t.v.
"The army is for poor people who don't care if they die" -Nathan



To a hot waitress
"Why do you have to be so hot that we have to tip you every time you bring us drinks? This is stupid. Can't you be uglier next time?" -Jared

Ordering pizza
"On half that pizza I'd like Canadian bacon please" -Me
"What is this Canadian bacon?" -Response from Canadian pizza place
"Uh...nevermind" -Me

Derek proceeds to put on his underwear in front us
"What the hell!" 10 second pause.... "Did you just put your underwear on in front of all of us? Why don't you do that shit in the bathroom like a normal person?" -Me
"What? I was facing the other way." -Derek

After seeing Nathan's delapidated toothbrush
"Dude, what the hell is the matter with your toothbrush? When was the last time you changed it?" -Me
"I don't know...haha" -Nathan
"It looks like a toilet bowl brush." -Me

In the Car

"How long do you think it would take to comb your hair with a toothpick" -Me

"OOHHH!!!! Prehistoric Forest!!!!" -Derek and Jerry




Quotes that I don't quite remember

What does heaven taste like?
"Heaven tastes like electronics + fish" -Me

Is this the drunkest you have ever been?
"No, there was this one time I was drunk in space and there were these monkeys...and bananas, and I was like 'hey man, what are you monkeys doing here'...and they were like 'didn't you know that there were bananas in space?'...so I was like 'oh, sorry'"

"This room is an oval, and I am the yolk. (To Derek) You are the whiteness, cause you are white. I'm the yolk cause I send out the missions."

Canada was fun, and made us all say and do some really stupid things.

Rise over Run

Isn't it funny that no matter how many times in your life you have climbed up and down stairs, you still manage to trip at least once a week on them? According to the above diagram, the stairs never actually move...they stay exactly the same. I am dumbfounded after just falling down the stairs while eating a candy bar. And did you know that before cemetaries were invented, people used to bury old folk in the cushions of couches? The things you learn...

The battle between LOVE and DESIGN

"The intelligent design movement belittles God. It makes God a designer, an engineer," said Vatican Observatory Director George Coyne, an astrophysicist who is also ordained. "The God of religious faith is a god of love. He did not design me."

This statement comes with agreement with Kitzmiller v. Dover Area School District (2005) United States federal court judge John E. Jones III’s ruling that intelligent design is not science and is essentially religious in nature.

Hmm…God didn’t design you George? Well let me try to understand what you mean.


God didn’t DESIGN→

• To conceive or fashion in the mind; invent: design a good excuse for not attending the conference.

• To formulate a plan for; devise: designed a marketing strategy for the new product.


• To plan out in systematic, usually graphic form: design a building; design a computer program.


• To create or contrive for a particular purpose or effect: a game designed to appeal to all ages.


• To have as a goal or purpose; intend.

• To create or execute in an artistic or highly skilled manner.

↓
YOU…He
↓
LOVE[s] →

1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.


2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.


3. An intense emotional attachment, as for a pet or treasured object.


4. A person who is the object of deep or intense affection or attraction; beloved. Often used as a term of endearment.


5. An expression of one's affection: Send him my love. (George)

↓

YOU

I took an astrophysics class last year and I went to an intelligent design seminar last semester…and I’m not going to lie, I still don’t understand half of it and won’t even pretend I’m an expert at discussing the intricacies of either concept, but to give you some background:

Intelligent design is the concept that "certain features of the universe and of living things are best explained by an intelligent cause, not an undirected process such as natural selection.”

Creationism is the origin belief that humans, life, the Earth, and the universe were created by a supreme being or deity's supernatural intervention.

I understand the disagreement between these two schools of thought, yet I still don’t completely understand the disagreement between design and love that George Coyne is referring to. So a loving God wouldn’t design us, he would just create us. Doesn’t any type of creation warrant some form of design, whether it is human or supernatural? In fact, I’d like to think that I was designed…and evolve like a potter would design and shape his clay. Would that make humans less lovable creatures? Maybe George is just upset because he isn't very pretty.


Ok...this just isn't fair, we all have a nic fit time and again.



Apparently I will be smited for that last picture.

After that digretion...think about this verse:

"Go down to the potter's house, and there I will give you my message." So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. Then the word of the Lord came to me: "O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?" declares the Lord. "Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel." - Jeremiah 18:2-6

From what I understand, intelligent design seems to be in between creationism and evolution. Evolutionists argue that it is not testable, has no new hypothesis, and hasn’t found any facts suitable to warrant further inquiry and to make it an addition to school curriculum. Intelligent design is called “creationism in a tuxedo.” How selfish are we to think that we can even begin to understand the ins and outs of God’s creation.

But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, "Why did you make me like this?" Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use? - Romans 9:20-21

Argue to no end, theorize, speculate, wonder, guess, hypothesize, presume, estimate, question, and marvel.

Darwin himself stated “If it could be demonstrated that any complex organ existed which could not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive, slight modifications, my theory would absolutely break down.”

We are living in an expanding universe (Hubble measurements) and thus a common starting point and inevitable collapse of the universe are within sight of scientists and creationists alike. Both concepts have a beginning and an end. The world is full of irreducible complexity, complications, and questions. Are we really spending time asking the right questions? While I think it is important for some people to understand Christianity better because of its ability to answer scientific questions, what will be left to ask God when we get to heaven?

Is evolutionary theory the integrating theme of biology today? Yes. Is it also just that…a theory? Yes. Is the evidence overwhelming? Yeah, I would say so. Can it be disproven? Any theory can…with facts.

He may not be an organ, but I don’t know anything more complex than God.


I think I will save this question for later and have a cookie, because sometimes I think that facts just aren’t good enough anyways. For example:

• I always swim directly after eating large meals and never get cramps.
• Electricity supposedly kills people in excessive amounts, yet some are impervious to Tazers.
• The Ronald Reagan ‘Star Wars’ armament program never made any X-Wings OR Tie Fighters
• Men in glass houses clearly don’t sink ships.
• The world hates America…home of Chuck Norris (6 time undefeated World Middle Weight Karate Champion)
• I grew up in a house with five women, and I’m completely straight (I don't even pop the collar)
  
• It is clearly not that easy to grow up in the suburbs. (Vanilla Ice)
  

That this 'design' is intelligent, that is readily observable...but not by reading any of the above statements.


Don't be afraid for tomorrow, God is already there.

Anything Wrong With This Picture?

Ah...Valentine's Day.

Does anyone else see something fundamentally wrong this picture? Wait...is that St. Valentine...making the obscene gesture of 'the shocker'? If you don't know what 'the shocker' is, and you aren't my mom, feel free to ask...but I'd be more comfortable if you looked it up. How incredibly ridiculous, he probably didn't even know it...or did he?

Valentine's Day. The day when squirrels laugh and play, little girls and boys give each other sweetheart candies that say 'I Love You,' 'Life is Good,' and 'I Know Where You Sleep.' They giggle and hug and eat themselves into diabetes.

Valentine's Day. The day that every single person loathes, the day that lingerie and liquor stores ring their cash registers all day long, and couples make sure everyone knows they are together by snuggling and smooching in public. I put in for a drawing to win a table for two for a free dinner at Long John Silvers. I didn't win, but I can imagine how happy my date would be when I said: 'Hey honey! I've got a coupon for Long John Silvers with your name on it!' If I had a date, I can imagine I'd get all kinds of rainbow kisses and dream colored smiles after that one. Or a quick kick in the groin.

Valentine's Day. I think I might buy a six pack and some sweetheart candies, light some candles, put on some Al Greene, and shoot the squirrels playing in the backyard.

If you want to read an awesome blog for Valentine's Day...check out my buddy J.D.'s blog about the love between the great Johnny Cash and June Carter. J.D., you know I give you the mad, phat, superfly, stupid, dope, dumbass, retarded, bombshit props.

One man's joke is another man's Jihad

So we’ve all heard about it in the news. A Danish newspaper last September published cartoons portraying the Muslim prophet Mohammed wearing a turban made out of a bomb. I would offer a link if I didn’t value my own life. Now recently it has gathered global Muslim attention as Islamic law forbids visual portrayal of the prophet Mohammed as a precept to prevent idolatry, or to take the focus away from worshipping Allah. What some people tend to misunderstand, is the small scope that some of these people have for personal expression living in fairly remote parts of the world. Muslims cherish the idea of ‘imminence,’ or that Allah is offended by things we do on Earth and that offending him through cartoons risks punishment.

It has already taken five months for the cartoons to come into the light of the Muslim world, and violence has typified their discontent. However, let me ask this. Is it worth the ten or more people killed in protest? Does it warrant chanting “Death to the Americans, death to the Danish!” An America, who I might add, has taken an unusually neutral stance on the subject…except for Bush’s calling yesterday for Islamic countries to denounce the violence and protect international diplomats.

This is not the only test of freedom of expression that has wracked the religious world. Let me use the example of “Piss Christ.” Some of you may remember it, I don’t…I was a year old. In 1987 a piece of artwork depicting Jesus on the cross and embossed between two pieces of piss and blood covered glass was being shown around the country…underwritten by the United States National Endowment for the Arts. It sparked controversy and congressional intervention as it was a federally funded project. This is an excerpt from the poem Andres Serrano wrote to accompany his ‘artwork’ and the rest…being a Christian, I refuse to include on my page.

If we did not know it was cow's blood and urine,if we did not know that Serrano had for weekshoarded his urine in a plastic vat,if we did not know the cross was gimcrack plastic,we would assume it was too beautiful.We would assume it was the resurrection,glory, Christ transformed to light by lightbecause the blood and urine burn like a halo,and light, as always, light makes it beautiful.

What I think Serrano has misunderstood, as well as the Muslim world…is that there is no power in what he is conveying. Sure, I would have wanted it out of art galleries…and the rest of the poem absolutely infuriates me. Hell, I would pee on Serrano if I could. But it is my anger that gives him the power to make his art seem important, plus ‘Serrano’ was a kick ass character in the Major League series. Serrano the ‘artist’ suggests that it is ‘light [that] makes it beautiful’ (the depiction of Christ). I have news for him. Take away your piss. Take away the glass, the plastic cross, the beautiful depiction of Christ in all its well-lit glory. The sacrifice of God’s son still remains. Oh, and Hitler was an artist too, and he had gas, so…go swallow a knife.

In the same light, while Muslim imminence is an important thing to remember about their religion, they are letting a picture that was neither written by a Muslim nor portrayed as a means of idolatry or worship…enrage them insofar as to let death, and fear, and hatred become their sole means for expression. Why not pray for the writer of the cartoons to see your religion in a different light? How about protesting peacefully?

What does Iran have to say about all of this? ‘I think we will have a contest, to see who can come up with the best cartoons about the Holocaust.’ No, I’m not kidding. An Iranian newspaper says that it will “apply the principle of freedom of expression to the Nazi genocide against Jews as it did to the caricatures of the Prophet Mohammed,” and winners will receive rings! Wait a minute; didn’t Iran’s President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad call the holocaust “a myth” very recently on more than one occasion? So first you pretend it didn’t happen, and now you want to see how funny the genocide of 6 million people can be? Not to mention…Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, said “The West's publication of the Prophet Muhammad cartoons was an Israeli conspiracy motivated by anger over Hamas' win in the Palestinian elections.” Wow, that makes sense…anyone else frightened by the fact that Iran just so happens to be enriching uranium and moving ever so quickly towards nuclear capability? I think we are on the verge of World War IV (WWIII being the Cold War) Imagine the unrest over a cartoon, and now imagine that same unrest with nuclear capability and the determination to destroy Israel (which according to them, apparently doesn’t exist).

Now the real question here…is…if there was an illustrated bomb in a Where’s Waldo book, would you go crazy and get nuclear weapons and say you are going to destroy people? No…you would be way to busy yelling across the room “Seriously guys, my eyes hurt, where the hell is Waldo!?”

I think cartoons should stick to what they are supposed to do...make us laugh.

"Tee hee hee" -God

This is a segment I call 'What I Learned Today'

The Lord learned me a valuable lesson today. He said:

"Chase, diving in the outfield to make a play takes a hard nose, and guts...diving on astroturf...now that is just plain stupid."

Point well taken (and a bloody mess on the back of my left shoulder)

Woe to the Hands of Time!

It has been a long time since I’ve written a post! I’ve been really crunching my time lately because I just joined the club baseball team here at IU so I have been busy busy busy trying to keep on top of my studies whilst whipping myself into shape before our first game in a couple weeks. Because I don’t have a whole lot of time I’m devoting this next post to my nephews Collin and Max. This will just be a couple pictures of the little guys that have made the holidays a lot louder, which no one apparently ever thought was possible in the Haller household. It’s amazing how much even a picture can make your day!


Collin Timothy Tooley


Max William Menke

The Bullet

The Bullet

How odd it is to be born to end life. I wear a metal jacket when it’s cold, but the coldness stings deeper than can be covered up. My journey from the barrel is a lifetime yet only lasts a second. My flight is death on a one way ticket. Like the snap of a whip I propel through the air. Everything blurs. The sky is deep blue, a storm is brewing. I guess no one will know me until I die. The city lights are streaking overhead. Children laugh and play on the sidewalk before me, hate rules behind me. The sound of my presence rushes far behind. I knew this was my purpose but it’s something I can’t handle. All my life I’ve been waiting for this death. I was meant for someone else, but meaning is empty when not on target. And I still wear responsibility like a cloak that doesn’t fit. Death approaches with an unfamiliar face. At a small girl it points and I don’t have a choice. The storm is overhead, and with its wind it groans in my direction. Death lets out a cry as I slam into the bricks. How badly I hurt, and yet how joyful I feel.

"Ernest Hemingway once wrote, 'The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part." --Se7en

He had a Dream.

I think everyone should take some time today to remember why we celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I was first introduced to Dr. King this past summer at church camp when we listened to his last speech on CD. I organized a few of my favorite quotes and a couple excerpts from that speech. You can read it through this link. A man of strong words, and even stronger dedication to a cause that even today struggles abstractly as we strive to love one another unconditionally and look past the differences that keep us apart.

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

"It may be true that a law may not make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me, and I think that is pretty important."

"Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true."

"We must learn to live together as brothers, or die together as fools."

"I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant."

"I submit to you that if man hasn't discovered something he will die for, he isn't fit to live."

"Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missles and misguided men."

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in moments of challenge and controversy."

In the last speech he gave before his death, he recounts when he was stabbed while he was signing books in New York City:

" You know, several years ago, I was in New York City autographing the first book that I had written. And while sitting there autographing books, a demented black woman came up. The only question I heard from her was, "Are you Martin Luther King?"
And I was looking down writing, and I said yes. And the next minute I felt something beating on my chest. Before I knew it I had been stabbed by this demented woman. I was rushed to Harlem Hospital. It was a dark Saturday afternoon. And that blade had gone through, and the X-rays revealed that the tip of the blade was on the edge of my aorta, the main artery. And once that's punctured, you drown in your own blood—that's the end of you.
It came out in the New York Times the next morning, that if I had sneezed, I would have died. Well, about four days later, they allowed me, after the operation, after my chest had been opened, and the blade had been taken out, to move around in the wheel chair in the hospital. They allowed me to read some of the mail that came in, and from all over the states, and the world, kind letters came in. I read a few, but one of them I will never forget. I had received one from the President and the Vice-President. I've forgotten what those telegrams said. I'd received a visit and a letter from the Governor of New York, but I've forgotten what the letter said. But there was another letter that came from a little girl, a young girl who was a student at the White Plains High School. And I looked at that letter, and I'll never forget it. It said simply, "Dear Dr. King: I am a ninth-grade student at the White Plains High School." She said, "While it should not matter, I would like to mention that I am a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune, and of your suffering. And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. And I'm simply writing you to say that I'm so happy that you didn't sneeze."

He continues:

"I’m so happy that I didn't sneeze. And they were telling me, now it doesn't matter now. It really doesn't matter what happens now. I left Atlanta this morning, and as we got started on the plane, there were six of us, the pilot said over the public address system, "We are sorry for the delay, but we have Dr. Martin Luther King on the plane. And to be sure that all of the bags were checked, and to be sure that nothing would be wrong with the plane, we had to check out everything carefully. And we've had the plane protected and guarded all night."
And then I got to Memphis. And some began to say the threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers?
Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
The very next day, Dr. King was killed in cold blood. He would be 77 if he were alive today. There is no doubt in my mind that God had unbelievable riches stored up in heaven for Dr. King that day. He may no longer have a beating heart, but his will that was also the Lord's is like transcendent path through time that we all can make the choice to follow. The darkness will become light, and we will see the glory of the Lord together...maybe over the same mountaintop. So today you can make the choice to continue his dream or let it disappear with the passing of time. You may ask how I know it is God’s will that we live in the way Dr. King describes so now I ask you to do some thinking yourself and turn to Luke 10: 25-37 and let the Lord tell you.

“The cry is always the same — "We want to be free."

300 Pound Man

Have you looked in the mirror and seen an ugliness that you hate?
I’ve seen more beauty in a 300 pound man sitting in a little wooden chair
He moves and it squeaks and he laughs at the world before it takes his big black smile
I could feel the laughter if he fell in splinters of wood
And the world the feeling embraced

The lecture was The World After 1945
Writing the history of now and my begin
I can’t stand to read the words

You don’t know what you want
I don’t know how much I can take
How long will you wait until your dreams are gone?

I fall back into the crowd…lonely in a town of thousands
I’m silently screaming…what if the man had fell
Would I have broken my teeth in a smile…or found myself in his place on the ground?

Polar

Well...last night I watched two movies. I watched Super Troopers with some coworkers after visiting the forbidden 231 sex store that was just opened recently near the interstate that has been the talk of the town. I was reminded of why I had never been to a place like that before when I walked down the first aisle with giant dildos staring at me on one side, and blow up sheep baaing at me on the other. I'm no prude, but I really just wanted to take a shower and cry after I left. Anyways...with the New Year approaching, I picked up on two quotes that made me think of the past and the future.

The first was from Super Troopers when state trooper Jeff Foster (the redhead) reacts to his assumption that Ursula has betrayed him: "You crapped on my heart!" Probably not the most enlightening quote ever, but pretty funny...and somewhat true because having your heart shat upon is not a fun thing. It has been a very long time since my heart has been crapped upon, and the purpose of this particular blog is not for me to complain about the past, but to remember the good things and look into the New Year with a yearning for good things to come. Every one of us has dirt and heartache they would like to erase from memory and never have to deal with in all areas of life, but to erase the bad...we'd have to forget about the good as well, because one inevitably leads to the other...and it is both that have constructed who we are. After all, the past is a rudder to guide us, not an anchor to drag us.

The second quote I picked up later in the night came from In Good Company, a movie where Topher Grace plays a young sales rep who becomes the boss of Dennis Quaid's character, who’s daughter he falls in love with. I know, very Hollywood...but at one point Grace asks Quaid what his secret is to finding the perfect woman. He very matter-of-factly replies

"You just pick the right one to be in the foxhole with, and when you are outside of the foxhole...you keep your dick in your pants."

Pretty much says it all. I know that just as there aren't perfect people, there is no such thing as a perfect marriage. When you consider that 50% of all marriages today end in divorce...no statistic makes it more apparent. I have seen my sisters very angry with their husbands, and of course I have seen more than a few arguments between my parents over the years. However, I also saw my parents cry tears of joy as they reinstated their vows after 30 years of marriage in a small ceremony us siblings (or my sisters rather) put together a couple years ago. I've also seen that my sisters never stay angry long (or at least pretend they aren't) and the smiles to angry face ratio when they are with their husbands are usually 100:1 depending on many things (one of them being a jackass tends to even out the ratio). I can't imagine the patience and work that it requires to maintain a loving relationship that lasts so long, along with raising children in a way that challenges and enlightens them. Now that I see my sisters beginning their families with their beautiful babies, it helps me appreciate the work it took to raise me…and the love it inspires me to find.

I look back on some of the relationships I've had, most of them bring laughs...some tears, but the laughs are always ahead 100:1...I think the thing that stings the most lately is when I think about missed opportunities. Sometimes I wish I had the perfect shoulder to lay on, or I could say exactly what a girl needed to hear...a joke, a compliment, or just a smile. Maybe it is selfish of me to want that at this point in my life, I've already asked a lot of God as it is. I just pray that my faithfulness will set me apart when the time is right.

Going into the New Year I think that I owe myself an explanation. I don’t think I’ve ever made a New Years resolution in my life. Most people don’t follow through with them anyways, so maybe I never wanted to break my own promises. I can’t keep torturing myself with what-ifs or could-have-beens. So next time I am sitting with a beautiful girl under the stars, maybe I will hold back on sharing how I feel…and make a wish on the next shooting star that she will know for both of us…if her head feels right on my shoulder.

Greatest things said about the past

Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go.
--Brooks Atkinson

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere, and don't even notice it.
--Shug, The Color Purple

A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.
-- John Barrymore

The past, with its pleasures, its rewards, its foolishness, itspunishments, is there for each of us forever, and it should be.
-- Lillian Hellman

One must always maintain one's connection to the past and yet ceaselessly pull away from it.
-- Gaston Bachelard

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
-- Billy Wilder

Kiss the past…or kiss your ass goodbye
--Aerosmith, “Kiss Your Past Goodbye”

You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest, that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.
--Jan Glidewell

Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future.
--Unknown

The past is history; The future is a mystery; This moment is a gift; That is why this moment is called the present; Enjoy it.
--Allan Johnson

Everything Has Its Time

To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven;
A time to be born,
And a time to die;
A time to plant,
And a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill,
And a time to heal;
A time to break down,
And a time to build up;
A time to weep,
And a time to laugh;
A time to mourn,
And a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones,
And a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace,
And a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to gain,
And a time to lose;
A time to keep,
And a time to throw away;
A time to tear,
And a time to sew;
A time to keep silence,
And a time to speak;
A time to love,
And a time to hate;
A time of war,
And a time of peace.

-Ecclesiates 3-1:8

The Dreamkeeper

The grass became feathers as we ran through the field,
Leaving worries at the fence, and problems at our heels.
With every step we take we’ll forget all that we’ve hated.
The stars light our path and our existence feels fated.


I reach for your hand to help you up the tree.
But you make it up yourself, no help from me.
What a long journey it was to find my secret place,
But it sure seems worth it to see the moon upon your face.

For as long as we need the tree becomes our own.
I have come to life, and my coffin has been closed.
The fork in the tree becomes our meeting place.
I sit down behind you and place my arms around your waist.

The strangeness in the light only compounds the mystery.
When you look upon my face, what is it that you see?
Have I become a ghost?
I peek around your shoulder and ask you if the sun has died.
No, you say with assurance, I’m sure that it’s just waiting to rise.

Slowly I loose my grip around you as my body disappears.
Slowly I begin confronting the meaning of my empty tears.
Have I become a ghost?
What do you think of now when you picture my face?
Is there anything there, or is something in its place?

My shadow, like fog, descends from the tree.
I begin to walk backwards while you’re gazing down at me.
The sun flashes on the horizon, and I begin to burn.
Even if you try to save me, it’s too late for my return.

Shine away my shadow, the sun never dies.

Shine away my shadow, the sun never lies.

I’d rather die in love,
Than stay alive numb.

So I climb back in my coffin and wait for the bell to toll,
And I pay the Dreamkeeper another night to keep my soul.

Does that make me a ghost?

C.M.H. ‘05

Jacob Wrestling With The Angel

I hope that in me there is a little bit of you
I hope that one day my hands become your hands,
And my lips only speak of truth

I hope I can forget the times I’ve lied
And cursed the world with your name
I hope I’ll forget the death, the crying, and the shame

When I stand before you that day, the angels all around
I hope my life has become yours
And I won’t want to feel the ground

I hope that I meet my angel
And understand why it doesn’t have a name
When others raise their fists in the air
I hope I’m last to cast the blame

I want to have your healing touch
And I want to have your face
I want to know why you love me so much
And understand the workings of your grace

I want to know why you found me that night
A sinner without a face
And turned me into a miracle of life
My darkness gone without a trace

I hope I’ll taste your mercy
When life deals a losing hand
I hope it makes me stronger
And brings me closer to your land

Most of all I want to know you
And why you died for me
Until then I’ll be searching
And hoping that day I’ll see

You upon your mighty throne,
Looking down on me
And say “Welcome home my son,
Your soul is finally free"

-C.M.H. '05

22 That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two maidservants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. 23 After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. 24 So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob's hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. 26 Then the man said, "Let me go, for it is daybreak." But Jacob replied, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."
27 The man asked him, "What is your name?" "Jacob," he answered.
28 Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but *Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome."
29 Jacob said, "Please tell me your name." But he replied, "Why do you ask my name?" Then he blessed him there.
30 So Jacob called the place *Peniel, saying, "It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared."

- Genesis 32:22-30

*Israel means he struggles with God
*Peniel means face of God

"I thank my God every time I remember you."

The title comes from Phillipians 1:3, one of my favorite verses. A couple years ago I thought I had spent my last years at Merom Conference Center as a camper, and I sat down to write a poem about the place where I found God and some of the closest friends I have today. After only a short time, this is what I came up with.

Merom

There are no words to describe a place
In between heaven and God’s sweet grace

A place where you’re free to live and to love
A place where no one snickers, but always laughs at your jokes

A place where all colors run white together
And starts those little moments that last forever

A place where nothing ever seems to end
And a place where the end of the road begins

A place where the people don’t seem like people anymore
But rather someone you’ve always known before

Before you were born, and before you ever knew
That God was always there, and He had plan for you

In that plan he wrote a note for me
To look at you and see Him smiling back at me

You can go to Merom’s website at www.merom.org . Merom Conference Center is located in the small town of Merom, Indiana. Last summer we had our first young adult camp called ‘Common Ground.’ It runs from August 9th-August 13th, just send an email their way for a brochure. It is a chance for young adults to get together and just have a good time while really focusing on their faith. I have attended since I was in the fourth grade, and wouldn’t miss a year for the world. There isn’t a better place to come right before school to just relax and have a great time. People always ask me, “So that is one of those camps where you run around a sing hymns all day and do churchy stuff right?” Wrong...in fact, pranks happen to be one of our favorite pastimes. One year I tied all of Derek’s clothes to the balcony overhanging the second floor, and I’ve also received a dead squirrel that was neatly wrapped in a box and I was told it was a present. Yeah, so I opened it…call me naïve. The truth of it is I’ve learned more, laughed more, cried more, and had more fun at this place every year in one week than I can probably account for in the entire rest of my life.

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward loveand good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are inthe habit of doing, but let us encourage one another--and all themore as you see the Day approaching.-- Hebrews 10:24,25

Love is Enough

I saw the first sign of Christmas around the corner today, as the snow began to fall outside my window when I woke up. I smiled in anticipation of all the good movies to see, all the wonderful food, and being at home with those I love the most and who have taught me so much in my life. I thought about the two new and beautiful babies the Lord has blessed my family with. For being such a cold time of year, sometimes winter brings the most warmth. I thought back to a time late in my high school years, in which I learned a valuable lesson about giving.

There was a time in my life when I thought Christmas was all about me. I would wake up at 4 a.m. greedily sitting by my presents on Christmas morning, shaking the colorful boxes and wondering what I was going to get (even though I already knew). The green one was a new power ranger toy, the package with the golden paper was a new Nintendo game, and the big blue and silver one had to be my deluxe remote control car with power steering and airbags (for the other toys of course). So my closet diving in November had paid off, but year after year of finding out that I could ask for anything (except a broadsword)…and sure enough come Christmas morning it would be waiting for me in an ornately wrapped present, was beginning to lose it’s magic. Now I realize that it is because what I felt in my heart wasn’t magical at all.

Around Christmas my junior year my mom told me that she and Dad had decided to do something different this year for Christmas. There was a family that were patients of theirs who weren’t going to be able to afford Christmas presents for their kids, and together we were going to go with the two kids and buy them presents for their family and for themselves. My mother asked me to go along with her, dad, and three of my sisters. To be honest I dreaded the idea of going along. Now I get tears in my eyes every time I think about the first time I saw them. We met the kids at the office early one evening; they walked in an introduced themselves very politely. The girl appeared to be about 10 or 11, the boy a couple years younger. She was wearing torn up jeans, an old baggy sweater, and shoes that had holes and didn’t fit. The boy’s clothes were in the same condition, if not worse. They both had brown hair and shining brown eyes, they were beautiful kids, very full of life. We took them to Wal-Mart, and first things first we decided we needed to get them clothes. After trying on what seemed like 20 outfits and putting them in the carts, it was time for them to buy presents. The funny thing about it was, they had the choice of shopping for themselves first or their families first, and the both chose their families. They picked out things for their sisters and brothers, and eventually they got to choose a couple things for themselves.

After eating dinner and going back to the office, their ride showed up shortly to take them away as quickly as they had arrived. They gave us all hugs and the most sincere thank-you I believe I’ve ever heard, with tears in their eyes, or the tears might have been in mine, I don’t really remember.

Somewhere in between I had realized what a profound thing my parents had done, and what a blessing it was that instead of thinking about what presents I was going to get, I could think about how it felt to give myself, and what God looked like in a child’s big brown eyes.

A year later, a month before Christmas, I was asked to give a sermon for our church’s youth Sunday service. The special offering was to go towards us being able to take two needy families Christmas shopping instead of one. I sat down and wrote every last detail that I could remember about my experience the Christmas before and the impact it had on my life, but I was worried that we wouldn’t get enough money. At the end of the service we were surprised to find that we had raised a few thousand dollars to spend for the two families. We took both of them at separate times, one boy was an only child. The other boy had nine or so other family members, but they both bought things for everyone else before picking out things for themselves. One of the boys you can see in the picture above. The other boy in the picture learned an important lesson about becoming a man.

Giving is a fascinating thing. C.S. Lewis, one the greatest Christian authors of the twentieth century wrote:

"For in self-giving, if anywhere, we touch a rythym of not only all creation but of all being" --The Problem of Pain

I was reading an article in Christianity Today about how Lewis was remembered after his death. A good friend recalled how Lewis would frequent the pubs in England, making friends wherever he went and telling stories such that people would gather round and often be in tears from laughter by the time he left. One day he and Lewis were walking to a local pub and a beggar stuck out his hand to them and asked them for change. Lewis, without any hesitation, dipped into his pocket and gave all that he had in it to the man. His friend walked on until Lewis caught up. “Now why would you do that?” his friend asked him. “You know he’s just going to spend it on booze anyways.” “Maybe so,” replied Lewis. “But so was I.” Lewis received a lot of criticism for frequenting pubs and talking about salvation at the same time. I have gotten the same for talking about God when I go to parties. Maybe it is a buzz kill, but the unsaid lesson I’ve learned from Lewis is that you better be sure either way where your heart lies, because the stakes are always high.

There are a lot of things I have trouble believing, and a million things I am unsure of. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a Bible just to read it, and many people would argue that it is just words. But to those people salvation is just words too, and that I have trouble believing. Words come alive when they become a part of you; they live on love alone. Love’s meaning isn’t conveyed with the letters that form it, but rather in a giving heart and a child’s beautiful brown eyes.

A man draws a line in the sand and stands in front of an adulteress lying in the street. The people want to stone her. “Let you who has no sin cast the first stone.” Slowly the stones drop, and the people walk away. "Woman, where are your accusers?" he asks. "Didn't the men condemn thee?" "No man, Lord." "Neither do I condemn thee, go now and sin no more."

Think of an image in your head that you can’t describe with words, this was mine. That, my friends, is love. And love is the greatest gift of all. With Christmas nearly here, I'm joyful at the thought of giving my nephews their first Christmas presents. Of anything I can think of: a toy, a book, or something new, I think no matter what...love will do.

“There is one who scatters, yet increases more; and there is one who withholds more than is right, but it leads to poverty.”
--Proverbs 11:24

"Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but one who turns a blind eye will get many a curse"
--Proverbs 28:27

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”
--1 John 4:7-8

“Trust in the Lord, and do good; so you will live in the land, and enjoy security. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”
--Psalm 37:3-4

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.”
--Romans 12:9

“Is not my word like a hammer that breaks a rock into pieces?”
--Jeremiah 23:29