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January 14, 2007
Pirate Sam
At EPCOT in Pirate dreads, patch, and earring--constantly looking into windows and saying, "Are you sure this isn't girly?"
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There's a Reason It's Called "Sawgrass"
And this photo shows you why that is pretty well.
Imagine walking through this stuff for any distance? Even with heavy clothing, I'm sure the grass eventually takes its toll.
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Double Gator
The nature experience at the Everglades is nothing like any other park you will go to. As close as the parking lot, you find the wildlife sunning itself and taking it easy. These two gators were no more than 10 feet away from me and Sam and that was after I was startled by turning a corner and nearly stepping on them. (I was walking on the far side of the tarmac shown here. There was a ranger nearby who chuckled at the startled tourists who, to a person, did what I did--stopped, did a double-take and walked to the far side of the road--as though that would be enough to protect us if a Gator took it in mind to have a two-legged lunch.
I loved it.
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A Face Only a Mother Could Love
But one of the mighty wonders of the Everglades. Because of this natural habitat and measures taken to preserve it, the woodstork was brought back from the verge of extinction in Florida. Looks and noise aside, that's a good thing.
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On the Beach at Lover's Key
An Osprey and nest. I'm more used to the "platform" nests that seem to be common, but I'm told that when there's space, this is also a common form for the nest. Wasn't it polite of him to pose for me?
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Sleeping Ducks
You don't need to go to the ends of the Earth to see wonderful, charming, beautiful, and meaningful nature. This pair, part of a trio, was at EPCOT, catching 40 winks while the crowds parted and surged around them. (Of course the fact that they were in a waterway no one could reach helped contribute to their relative nonchalance.)
And yes, what you're seeing in the male is the "whites of his eye." He seemed to go through a cycle of having ordinary black duck-eye and then this white look. I suppose it may have to do with predatory deterrence. Don't know, but it was interesting to watch.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 3:47 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
In Celebration of the Day
The historical revisionism that has assaulted the Founders of our nation has turned upon Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and has tarred him with every brush that could be found. Not a saint, not a perfect human being; however, a man who tried to do good for those around him--a man who tried to raise up a beleaguered people, a man who tried to bring us to a place of equality, and a man through whose efforts we approach that freedom.
To this man I owe a debt of great gratitude--without him my present family arrangement would be well-nigh unthinkable. His efforts allowed us to begin to look upon people and see people--all equal in the eyes of God, of equal worth, equal dignity, equal importance by their human dignity. May his dream see fruition within my lifetime--we're not there yet; however, we are a good deal closer than we had been before he dared to dream.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:39 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
January 16, 2007
To All Flesh Will Come. . .
with its burden of sin.
Too heavy for us, our offenses,
but you wipe them away.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:35 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Supper's Ready
As a result of You-Tube exploration, I went back to the vinyl collection that I have kept from my early interest in music and wondered, other than the fact that the technology is now so primitive as to be nearly outmoded, why I didn't listen to these things what were so formative for me at the time.
So I turned back to several favorites and listened to them as I thumbed through the Amazon Catalog (and finally contacted a friend who had been ripping vinyl to MP3). Chief amongst these early works were Tales of Mystery and Imagination by The Alan Parsons Project, Phantasmagoria by Curved Air (the You-Tube cut by Sonja Kristina, "Melinda (More or Less)" is from this album) and Foxtrot by Genesis (with Peter Gabriel).
Foxtrot is something of a "concept album" with the second side consisting of a single song in multiple movements. I remember listening to this over and over again at the time it was issued. I thought it one of the most profound pieces of music ever written. You won't be astonished to hear that I was wrong. But the people who wrote the lyrics knew how to pull strings and how to set up certain expectations. Much of this is youthful pretension--one can end up reading all sorts of meanings into the song, but much of this is an exercise in reading the overstuffed and vague lyrics in a certain way. All of this amounts to a certain amount of pretension--a pretension that comes of youth.
"He watched with reverence as Narcissus
was turned to a flower. . .
A Flower?. . ."
And the next song bounces along "happy as fish and gorgeous as geese" hops along in its odd sort of way.
And take this delightful bit of nonsense:
Lyrics from "Supper's Ready"
Apocalypse In 9/8 (Co-Starring the delicious talents of Gabble Ratchet)
With the guards of Magog, swarming around,
The Pied Piper takes his children underground.
Dragons coming out of the sea,
Shimmering silver head of wisdom looking at me.
He brings down the fire from the skies,
You can tell he's doing well by the look in human eyes.
Better not compromise.
It won't be easy.666 is no longer alone,
He's getting out the marrow in your back bone,
And the seven trumpets blowing sweet rock and roll,
Gonna blow right down inside your soul.
Pythagoras with the looking glass reflects the full moon,
In blood, he's writing the lyrics of a HIP brand new tune.And it's hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue,
Hey my baby, don't you know our love is true,
I've been so far from here,
Far from your loving arms,
Now I'm back again, and babe it's gonna work out fine.
As Sure As Eggs Is Eggs (Aching Men's Feet)Can't you feel our souls ignite
Shedding ever changing colours, in the darkness of the fading night,
Like the river joins the ocean, as the germ in a seed grows
We have finally been freed to get back home.There's an angel standing in the sun, and he's crying with a loud voice,
"This is the supper of the mighty one",
The Lord of Lords,
King of Kings,
Has returned to lead his children home,
To take them to the new Jerusalem.
And we're to make what of this? I remember back before they published the lyric sheets just trying to figure out what the heck they were singing. Now that I know, I'm little better off. And yet there is such a tremendous sense of fun about the whole thing--sheer delight in verbal wordplay. "666 is no longer alone. . ." such an interesting observation that can be taken so many ways depending upon one's perspective.
That said--it is still solid and interesting. One can forgive the excesses of youth and even engage in them from time to time. This is the kind of thing that true geniuses look back on and say, "Oh well, youth, what can you do about it." The music moves in all sorts of interesting symphonic ways and rock ways--there are about 20 styles and segues that lead through a labyrinth of possible meanings to result in sheer entertainment.
So rather than faulting meaning or lack thereof, it's far better to sit back and enjoy the sheer loveliness of some of the treatments and let the rest go. Yes, some of it is silly, some pretentious, some overblown. But there are delicate interludes and a real sense of unity and organization in a piece that goes on for about 22 minutes--a true symphony of sorts. And it still charms.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:39 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Remember your word to your servant. . .
by which you give me hope.
This is my comfort in sorrow
that your promise gives me life.
(Psalm 119:49-50, from daytime prayer)
I think of my Grandfather, head bowed over his much used Bible after the death of my mother. I think of my Grandmother who could not see when my Grandfather had passed away, but who listened again and again to the word of God and, who despite all predictions, did not follow him quickly to the grave, though she was by far the more frail of the two. Rather, she lived on in love with God and in love with Life for every day of her own.
I think of how much His word meant to them at every moment of their lives. They lived the word in ways I cannot begin to do--constant prayer, constant immersion, a unity I struggle for and seem to achieve for seconds at a time was theirs in a seemingly unbroken stream--the river that passes by the temple in the New Jerusalem. It transformed their lives and now transforms my own in the memory of it and in the desire for it. Reverence--lives of reverence and quiet adoration--lives not meant to be examples, but lives which became examples any way.
We all know people like this people who lived a life of "Remember your word to your servant by which you gave me hope." May I become one of them and may those of you who wish this also become one of them. It helps us to understand the concept of Boddhisatvas--the enlightened ones who nevertheless remained behind to assist humanity in finding the Light.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 2:41 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
January 17, 2007
The Evidentiary Power of Beauty
No, I don't plan to review the very fine book by Father Thomas Dubay. As with all book by Fr. Dubay, this is a dense, thorough study of its intended subject.
I chose this title because it is, perhaps, the most meaningful to me in my personal encounters with God. I would expand it--The evidentiary and experiential power of beauty.
In beauty, true beauty, we encounter God directly, if sometimes at a distance, masked by the surface. God is, of course, the source of all beauty, goodness, and truth. If there is an aesthetic appeal to an object, a true beauty, it is one way God calls to us.
I read great works of literature, view great art, listen to music, great and otherwise, and I experience God speaking through His people. There are times when I am stunned into a real silence, the silence in which I encounter God in prayer.
We've all had this experience--something so lovely it takes the breath away, we are literally gasping at the sight or experience of it. The divine has intruded momentarily into the senses. We see Him, however dimly, however much at a distance.
And what is most remarkable is that this is despite the intention of the artist. The other day I found a You-Tube video by Gary Numan titled something like "Prayer for a Dead Girl," in which he is obviously lamenting a still-born child or a child lost early-on in development and comes to the conclusion that indeed there is and can be no God. And in coming to that conclusion, he uncloaks for a moment God's face, a face filled with love, compassion, and genuine empathy/sympathy--a face that knows and understands what it is to lose a beloved child.
Beauty isn't God. Art is not God. Music is not God. Literature is not God. Nothing of human or natural creation is God and it is a serious error to suppose that it is. Emerson made this error consistently and stridently. No, none of these things is God; however, if we are looking and listening, we can experience God through great and even not-so-great works of art and beauty.
The senses are where we start this journey--but it is not the end. Beauty is not the end--it is merely the signpost pointing to the end. We start by being engaged, called to Him through whatever it is that we find lovely and attractive. But to find Him, what must leave behind the lesser beauties to find the eternal beauty--the perfection of beauty. We must gaze upon the Face of God through His Son, Jesus Christ who while he may not have been beautiful in human terms was the Incarnation of beauty, and who revealed the meaning of beauty--the love of God given us to remind us to come home.
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Small is Beautiful (Again)
We recently had a change in motor vehicles, trading way down from out "family-sized" mini-van to a Honda Civic hybrid.
And I love it. I wanted better gas milage and got it.
But I had also forgotten how comfortable it was to drive a smaller car. And this one is really cool. The instrument panel has a readout that provides feedback to allow the cautious and careful driver to gradually increase gas milage (that is so cool!). And this one came equipped with a GPS system built in, satellite radio, iPod jack and all sorts of unnecessary, but relentlessly cool stuff.
However, in reading the review for the car (we were deciding between this and a Prius) I was provoked and annoyed by one reviewer who said that you could hardly tell that it was a hybrid at all, having only a small plaque on the back. You weren't wearing your credentials--I guess.
I decided to move down in size as a kind of small way to do something about the Everglades. Silly, I know, but I was so moved and so delighted that it popped into my head that we should make some small concession. (The selfish part of the concession is that I will feel less bad about driving down to see them from time to time.) I didn't get this car so that everyone in the world will know that I have a hybrid. (Of course now they will through the blog, if they're interested.) But my point was not to "make a statement" but to do something that might help preserve a resource and might help overall environmental health. It is trivial in the grand scheme, and certainly not worth feeling smug or superior over. (I do however feel smug and superior over the totally cool GPS, which Sam and I are almost addicted to. We set it to give us instructions on the way home from the grocery store just to have it talk to us.)
But what a silly criticism. Buy a Prius because it makes an obvious statement. This is what commonly discredits those who are seriously concerned with environmental causes. They focus on such nonsense and blow it out of proportion.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:45 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
January 18, 2007
During the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity
Some interesting maps sent to me by a friend.
I'm pleased to note that I live in a "blue area" of my state--not what you think!
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