Tickling the Ivories
…writing to figure out what I think

2.22.06

Convenience…?

Filed under: Uncategorized


Google Desktop Search


While typing away at the coffee shop or sitting at your desk at work, have you ever needed a file that was stored only on a home computer so badly that you would gladly store copies of every file contained on that PC on a server at Google headquarters in California?

If so, have you ever heard of a flash-drive?—these little devices with oodles of space to hold essential files that need to be transported wherever their creator goes. How is giving Google access to everything on your computer more convenient than carrying one of these things?

Congrantulations, Bode…

Filed under: Uncategorized


Basketball Bode


That’s right…I’m about to buy into the current favorite pastime of many American sports commentators: criticizing Bode Miller, the hapless U.S. skier.

Why does the U.S. press focus so much attention on this man? He hasn’t done anything noteworthy in recent weeks except fail. Yet on Google News there are 691 articles related to Bode’s current basketball mishap. It is as if there are droves of journalists flocking around him to see what splashy headline they can pin on him next.

Unfortunately, slightly injuring an ankle is not very splashy. Yet, I am willing to bet that when Bob Costas opens the NBC broadcast tonight, one of the first phrases to leave his lips will be Bode related. Why? Because when Americans watch sports, the only thing we love to see more than a gracious winner who overcame all the odds is spectacular failure.

2.19.06

Web 2.0

Filed under: Uncategorized

does everybody’s opinion really matter? i mean, i know we’ve all got ‘em, but is it really everyone’s right to be heard?
what am i saying…this page is insiduously a part of this hoopla
Web 2.0

2.17.06

More Merton

Filed under: Words

I think Merton is right on with these thoughts…as a note, I have edited out a few segments (indicated by ellipses) to save my fingers from death by typing.

The greatest temptation that assails Christians is that in effect, for most of us, the Gospel has ceased to be news. And if it is not news it is not Gospel: for the Gospel is the proclamation of something absolutely new, everlastingly new, not a message that was once new but is now two thousand years old. And yet for many of us the Gospel is precisely the announcement of something that is not new: the truths of the Gospel are old, deep-rooted, firmly established, unchanging and in some sense a refuge against all that is disturbing because it is new. . . . The message of the Gospel when it was first preached was profoundly disturbing to those who wanted to cling to well-established religious patters, the ancient and accepted ways, the ways that were not dangerous and which contained no surprises…
What makes the Gospel news? The faith, which is created in us by God and with which we hear it as news. This acceptance of faith, this new birth in the Spirit, opens up a new dimension in which time and eternity meet, in which all things are made new: eternity, time, our own self, the world around us…
Those who preach the Gospel as if it were not and could not be news, as if it never could be news again, are saying in their own way, and much more terribly than Nietzsche, that “God is dead.” They are declaring it officially, they are proclaiming it not just as the paradox of an eccentric, but as the doctrine of their church…
The Gospel is the news that, if I will, I can respond now in perfect freedom to the redemptive love of God for man in Christ, that I can now rise above the forces of necessity and evil in order to say “yes” to the mysterious action of Spirit that is transforming the world even in the midst of the violence and confusion and destruction that seem to proclaim His absence and His “death.”

According to the OED, the word ‘gospel’ descends from the old English phrase ‘god spel,’ which was adopted as the regular translation of the Latin ‘evangelium,’ which means ‘good message.’ Why is the Gospel message sometimes thought of as bad news? And if it isn’t thought of as bad news, why do some people ignore it altogether?

2.6.06

So here is…

Filed under: Words

my new page. i found this site and it seems to me that the lack of ads and absence of half-naked girls promoting dating services can work in my favor.

has anyone out there ever read any books by william faulkner? i had to read “the sound and the fury” for two different classes while in college. i only made it through once, which was plenty. i checked out “absalom, absalom!” from the library. it’s a very sluggish read, to say the least. stream of consciousness writing has its occasional thrills, but for the most part it acts like a dumptruck—continually heaping up piles of words onto the reader.

anyway, when i checked out the faulkner book, i also checked out a book called “conjectures of a guilty bystander.” it’s by thomas merton, an american who lived as a trappist monk in the ’60s. when i’m at the library, i think something in the air (possibly the smell of thousands of pages of type) makes me feel as if i am capable of more than i really am—so i check out three or four books, of which i hardly ever finish one.

i think the most appropriate thing that can be said about merton is that he is a deep thinker. maybe too deep. i guess that’s what happens when a guy who wrote a master’s thesis on william blake and hobnobbed in circles of artists and intellectuals retreats into self-imposed seclusion—conveniently right around the time of the U.S. entry into WWII. anyway, this book i’m reading contains some great nuggets of insight, some of which i plan on transferring onto this site. my hope is that retyping will help me (and you) better understand. here’s one:

“The Christian faith takes hold on each one of us when each one sees himself no longer in the perspective of individual fulfillment and satisfaction, but in the light of the Cross. This implies the renunciation of one attitude toward sin and death, and a completely new understanding of these realities. In the first case, you implicitly accept death as an inevitable but incomprehensible fact, from which you resolutely turn away in order to make the best you can out of time, and to live as if, in fact, you were never going to die. This implies a firm will to ignore death, and it may also imply an equally firm will to ignore sin and guilt. You come to terms with life and with your society, and you make the most effective possible use of the means which are offered, here and now, to achieve a relative happiness, a relative sense that you are a real and meaningful being.

The Christian faith on the other hand demands a recognition that this view of life is in reality a delusive form of wilfulness and of despair, since in fact it cannot make the moral effort to confront the most important and inscrutable realities of life. Christianity recognizes that these realities cnnot be understood by reason alone, but it accepts from God, on faith, a revelation of their true import. Death and sin are inextricably involved in one another: they are in fact two aspects of the same mystery—man’s separation from God by the wilful assertion of his individuality as ultimate, and by the determination to live as if, in fact, it were ultimate. In the end, this false view tends to assert, at least implicitly, the complete autonomy of the individual, who is no longer responsible to anyone, who is able to choose for himself any one of an unlimited number and quality of possibilities, and who is, in fact, free to do exactly as he pleases without rendering an account to anyone and without taking into consideration the moral and physical consequences of any of his acts.

This implicit claim to complete autonomy for man, dressed in various mythical trappings, constitutes the various beliefs by which modern man attempts to explain his existence.

An essential and obviously characteristic element of the Christian faith is the admission that this clam to autonomy is in fact rooted in despair and death. While appearing to be an affirmation of life and hope, it is actually a fallacious construction of the mind of man, by which he hopes to create for himself some kind of meaning in a life which will be resolved into meaninglessness by death. Furthermore, Christianity sees that a society that justifies its behavior and bases its existence on this supposed autonomy of man does, in fact, devote to destruction and death the very resources and energies which it claims to be using for the affirmation and improvement of life.

The basic Christian faith is that he who renounces his delusive, individual autonomy in order to receive his true being and freedom in and by Christ is ‘justified’ by the mercy of God in the Cross of Christ. His ’sins are forgiven’ in so far as the root of guilt is torn up in the surrender which faith makes to Christ. Instead of my own delusive autonomy I surrender to Christ all rights over me in the hope that by His Spirit, which is the Spirit and Life of His Church, He will live and act in me, and, having become one with Him, having found my true identity in Him, I will act only as a member of His Body and a faithful citizen of His Kingdom.”


merton is not saying we aren’t free to choose our own path, but he is saying that the purest form of freedom comes through Christ.
see John 8:31-47.

—A

2.3.06

A working musician…

Filed under: Music

…gathers no moss.
Last night I played in a show at The Mill with Coach Mahler. He has adopted the moniker Wounded Raven over in Oberst-land Omaha, though only for a few open mic nights. The atmosphere at the show was circus-like—not only because of the crazy array of acts that were on the bill, but because the club was packed with people. It was hot in the main restaurant area and it felt good to step into the privileged coolness of the adjoining band member/equipment staging area. The only thing hot about that room was my Twin Reverb amp, which was plugged in to warm up the tubes, because tubes function better when hot.

The Coach and I went on third out of four. I felt slightly guilty about this, especially after I found out the first group traveled from Minneapolis solely for this show. The slight guilt was ratcheted up a notch after they took the stage and proved to be a tight group. Having just learned half of the songs the Coach and I were performing that day, I figured we would not be at all tight. The second act put some much needed separation between us and the openers. Their songs were lyrically akin to 50s Buddy Holly-ish teen bop pop. Their sound, however, was more a mix of grinding and slowed down Ramones punk played on out of tune guitars. The effect was definitely jarring, and a little of their sound went a long way.

After a brief interlude where a DJ, with turntable set up off to the side of the stage, spun a few records, the Coach and I were on. Our performance went about as good as I could have hoped. Whatever uncertainty there was with the songs worked itself out under the spotlights. It’s tough performing in a duo. Unlike a full band, no hiding place exists in a song—more precision is needed. This aspect of performing with the Coach has always made me sweat, but I always try to convince myself that being onstage is no different than plunking around in my livingroom. It’s hard to maintain this illusion in front of a large audience of half-attentive, chattering college students. Yet as the show went on, I found it easier to take risks in the notes I was playing. The Coach’s innate ability to heckle the audience, thereby keeping them involved in a strange dialogue with him, helped me to do this. Coach is a born performer: part trickster and part poet—totally original.

By the end of the night, I remembered why I don’t think I could handle being a regularly working musician. Even though performing is the best way to advance one’s musical ability, I couldn’t take the weird hours for very long. Sometimes it seems that I can gather more benefit from playing alone in my livingroom, with nobody but God to witness my mistakes.

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