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Eight-point-Six Things I Like about Joshua Robinson

1. His blog reeks of professionalism which is unique in a relieving way.
2. His hair is white-blonde.... like straw?
3. English majors always deserve mad props.
4. Who else owns a copy of "Pornograffiti" and actually knows Nuno Bettencourt's name?
5. He plays with verbal language like it's a Slinky (ever moving, rarely used for its intended purpose and really fun to turn over in your hands).
6. He is the secret sideways twin of Silas Wong (who also got a Top Ten list!).
7. He sings and plays acoustic with passion I will never have. [Insert words here that don't exist because I can't describe how impressed I am.]
8. He loves the Jesus and approaches Him with the kind of reverence and respect that existed between the sexes in the days that men stood up when ladies entered a room, and we ladies kept our ankles covered.
8.6. He laughs at my stupidness, he sometimes gets my stupidness (and propogates it) and if it's a special brand of stupid, he doesn't laugh at all.


I don't know what provoked this particular rendition of the Top Ten. I think it was finding this picture which happens to be exploiting what those in the photography world refer to as the "Popeye angle".

JR, you, my friend, are some kind of hard-pressed coal in the not-so-smooth.

I like this series. Who's next?


the series:
Silas: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2006/09/draw-er-of-smirks.html
Katie: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2006/10/having-crushes-on-multiple-young-lads.html
Lydia: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2007/04/one-thing-i-like-about-lydia.html
Paul: http://jesfffskah.blogspot.com/2008/04/10th-paul-post.html

From the Belly of the Beast: What goes on inside a full-body gorilla suit

The bad parts:

Dudes are far rougher with guys than they are with girls (this seems logical) but it sucks when you can't tell people that they need to stop the ...bullyage.
It's hot.
It's also hot temperature-wise. A full body of fur with no ventilation but the eye-holes, coupled with much running around is a bad combination. I started getting dizzy because I could hardly drink and rarely breathe (properly).
Gorilla hair in the mouth and gorilla hair sticking to your sweat is unpleasant. I recommend it to all!

The good parts:
Some people get scared, even when they know you are not a real gorilla. I made a grown woman scream and jump after she read my name-tag.
People I do not know and now barely remember wanted to take pictures with me. I guess tourists will always be tourists. Country folk.....
It's weird.
In this situation, my costume was hardly related to the theme which made it even weirder.
The look on people's faces when they find out who I am is amazing. They were more shocked than I would have predicted. I thought I had set the standard of weirdness pretty well so that few things were out of my ordinary.
I had rock-hard abs for like ... an hour and a half.


I'd like to come across those pictures 10 years down the road. Ach... they're probably all over the Internet by now.

In other news, I'm pretty smitten with this little number. (It's an eye-pod.)

"Apocalypto" (2006)

My feelings for this film are kept in a cage, poked and prodded by on-lookers but unmoving (some lazy but not quite sad tiger). I'd like to release them before the harassment incites a lashing-out. What shall I use to coax? [There is a unique abruptness that comes upon a sentence that ends with a transitive verb used like an intransitive one. I love it.]

This film is violent and grueusome. I cannot deny it.

And yet, two days after viewing it, I cannot get it out of my head. Only five other films have ever gripped me like this: Fight Club, The Passion of the Christ, The Sting, Singin' in the Rain and Pride and Prejudice. They pervade my thoughts and refuse to let me go until I explore them or, in worst cases, until I watch them again. I've seen FC 8 times, The Sting 5 or 6 times and both Singin' in the Rain and TPotC twice.

I saw such horror and such evil on the screen that I started pulling my Bible out of my bag, intent on readin up some [Ancient city]ians to keep me grounded because NOTHING in this film spoke of God, nothing. I was shocked and grossed-out. I was very uncomfortable and many times I tried to figure out how long a scene or incident would last to decide whether it was practical to leave the theatre (and come back?), taking into account that my brother, who was sitting beside me, probably would not understand.

I never did read anything; I took a long time un-doing the Velcro flap, waiting for loud bits to cover me but by the time the book was open, right side up and at the desired page, the incidents on screen were stomachable, oh and also I was mesmerized.

I am impressed. I really.. don't know what to say about this. I left the theater slightly shaken up. To my delight, the film let us out at 01h30 onto sketchy mcdark n' creepy Richmond Street of downtown Toronto. Much more to my delight, my brother is 6'2" and fights when he needs to.

I think the violence could have been diminished by about 10 or 15% and the film still would have made people squeamish, it still would have made us understand the primal and brutal society/culture but perhaps we would not have been so deeply disturbed to the core. (I am willing to admit that maybe it's just me.)

Despite all this,


despite it, I say, I really loved this film. I mean, at first I felt violated; I had to play some God-singin' music and read the Bibs to make sure I could sleep but the next day and yesterday I have found the violence slipping into the background while artistry and complexity come to the fore. I don't know if I'd recommend this film to or whom. I do know that I'd like to own a home copy myself and may even look the other way if someone (a.k.a. me) decided to shell out more money for a second big-screen viewing.

I can't grasp all of what grasps me about this work. I have snippits and snapshots in my head but more than that there is something so deep-seated, so intriguing..
something draws me in.
There is some higher, purer standard of human life that I caught a glimpse of and though I am excited to now have the knowledge that it exists, I struggle with the knowledge that I will never attain what it is that fascinates me so. Something is pulling me in and calling my name. It's an amped-up version of The Lord of the Rings films, the intricate and complete alternate world that begs us to join it while we know it does not exist. It's like, for me, the rich music of the 1970s that tell me I should have been born in the late 60s because I was meant to be there. I was there...I am there...but secretly not.

The parts of men, the traits that God has given us, the ones that, ignoring our fallenness, make us amazing creatures are glorified and exposed, enshrined. I like that. It's rare, it seems exceedingly simple and something to be proud of. What is...who is man that He is mindful?

If I could be so moved by the best traits of man, put on a pedestal, an x-thousand- or million-dollar budget with planning and hard work, then how the heck more amazing is God? Who... could exceed myself? Who or what could possibly be greater than man? We invented electricity! Imagine, Arrogant Self, who is better than thee on thy BEST day? He surpasses all and we are naught. Hmmm... this is not where I expected the post to end up.

To be continued....

9/10

"that hooker"

You can argue that it's the woman's choice, that it's empowering, that it's her body and she can do what she wants with it.

But,

I submit to you,

no woman (or man, I suppose) enjoys washing blood out of their underwear in a dilapidated brothel's bathroom sink.

"You don't speak very good English, young lady."

I overheard one stranger say that to another in a bus terminal [today]. He had started making conversation a few moments earlier and, although I was scarcely listenening to what they were saying, I understood from intonation and body language in my periphery that the "young lady" and her baby-daddy were trying to be polite but not encouraging. Their discomfort was masked by said politeness with as much awkwardness and futility you'd find in trying to stuff a live but indifferent octopus into a mesh bag. (Picture it.) The presence of the baby, I think, was the excuse the stranger capitalized on to start a conversation. He "seemed harmless and nice enough" as most folks of this society would say. I call it frustrating but that is probably "just me". I react differently in most public settings. [Speaking of the word "just" I have a challenge to all you Christians out there who, every now and then, talk to Jesu or Big G: try lasting a month without using the word "just" in your prayers. Maybe that'll be effortess, maybe someone has "challenged" you like this before but I think this is a great word to start with in the pursuit of refining our language (especially when it's to someone who deserves to be spoken to with words well-chosen and well-used).] Either way, when he uttered the title of the post that man was dead serious and sounded almost like he was reprimanding this woman, as if he had the right to tell her what languages to learn and by how much she had failed in that endeavor. You don't say that to strangers, man, you don't say that. ugh... I should start carrying around/wearing boxing gloves all the time so I can punch inanimate things when anger takes cheap shots at me.
Although it's not completely logical, I would have loved to - in her position - retort, "How's your Chinese?"

my thoughts on the "queer-positive" church

It shouldn't exist. I think calling a church "queer-positive" is like calling the front entrance of a bar "negro-friendly". There should be no distinction for any establishment or church. These are my thoughts.

In other news, this is what I do when I'm out of school during the Christhams season... Yesterday's project was a Christmas tree (see previous post) and today I made a rather gaudy Christmas card for a (secret Japanese) friend of mine. Yes, the envelope is made from a paper bag and yes, I enjoyed cutting the triangular lip to complete the illusion of legitmacy.

Before this, I made some apple crisp out of what is certainly the largest apple I have ever seen. [See below.] Unfortunately, the smaller apple on your right in the photograph does not give a good idea of scale because it could certainly be a very tiny apple. However, it is not. It is an average-size Royal Gala apple (maybe slightly smaller than average) and the big Red Delicious was definitely about four inches tall and three inches in diameter (at its widest point). I've said it twice before and I'll say it again: that apple ate other apples. It is gargantuan. It scared/scares me. This is why I was forced to cut it into small pieces and bake it in hot oven....mwa hahah....

[For those who are interested, I did the slicey-slicey of the Gargantuan and half of the other apple. (Usually, you use 5-6 regular-people size apples but I wanted the challenge of making a mini-crisp out of the mother.) Drop your pommes in a baking dish (the 9x9" or 8x8" is cool) and pour a smidge of water over. After this, sprinkle two tablespoons of granulated sugar on.]

[After this, you probably wants to mix 1/2 cup rolled oats, 1/2 cup packed brown sugar, 1/4 cup flour and 1/2 tsp cinnamon. If I were you I'd be rather liberal with both the brown sugar and the cinnamon becuase those things have a kind of.... passionate relationship with apples. They pretty much need to be together, in copious amounts, as much as possible.]

[Add 1/4 cup of margarine (I went overboard because I was trying to bake from memory and thought I needed 1/2 cup. I stopped a little bit after I'd added half...). It oughta be crumbly but stick together jus a lil' bit, too. My hand does absolutely NOTHING for showing you the texture so just pretend it's there to prove that... I still have hands.]

[Bake your friend at 350oF for 30-35 minutes and then love it real nice like. I suggest the addition of ice cream. If you're a westerner, you'd probably pick vanilla which I think is absolutely a joke of a flavor BUT it does make sense in this context becuase you probably don't want to interfere with the apple crisp-o flavor at all.]

I think that's all I have to say for now. That... yea.

(This is what happened to the other half of the apple ----------------------------->

+cinnamon+syrup&icing sugar+great)

Retrospect (which should refer to eye-glasses from the '70s but unfortunately does not)

The past few days have been weird and generally unpleasant for me. I had fun tonight, playing one game of Cribbage and three games of Rummy 500 with Fish [I can admit that I lost three of those four games... I often enjoy loosing because it means I'm being challenged which is the whole point of competition] and I have [enjoyed] being without academic responsibilities. But still, I feel quite unsettled.
I am both genuinely ashamed and disgusted with my academic conduct this semester. I mean, sure, I'll get the credits (methinks) but I sell myself short way too often. I'm not sure if I'm using the right phrase there but I know that I need to stop shooting for the bare minimum. It is true, time and time again: as long as we are OK with being good, we will never be great. I wanna be great.
Yesterday I wrote my final two finals. How ironic is it that the class I love the most is the one I will probably do most poorly in? I honestly want to go talk to my professor and say, "Look, don't let my laziness be a disrespect to you. Don't think I am apathetic or uninterested in what you had to say; I am merely selfish and unwilling to do what I should do to reap the greatest benefits from your class." Man...I ... oh I don't even know what to say anymore. I don't think I can smile properly until my grades are up and I can see how .. well I can see the fruits of my "labor". Speaking of labor fruits, I made this Christmas tree this afternoon. It was fun and but I see now that I need to move the trunk to the right just a lil'. I am rather pleased with the finished product. I think I should stop writing. I think I'm in a state of penance. I think there was a guy who tore curtains in two, a guy who said worship in the mountain or the valley is all the same. He said there was now no condemnation for those who were in Him. There was a guy to which I gave my life but right now I'm just not feeling it. Yes, I can believe His promises and I can know that, at the end of the day, I'm safe. But that's me being content with goodness again. It's one thing to know that He is gracious but how do I reconcile the fact that I never seem to learn? How can I truly feel forgiven knowing that it is almost certain that I will make the same mistakes next semester? I need to believe on something different - that something will change. Ugh... the power of will power.. it's a beast! what to say, what to say...?

Reasons that I am Old

I just said, "I don't approve of luxury of any kind."

I'm old but... I stand by that statment.

Apparently I don't know my Bible very well because I have been having a great deal of trouble finding the Book of Magical Formulae.

je pense...

Smallville instills in me a very rare kind of sadness. It's like someone took all the stories from one newscast and explored each in depth (wrote a script, rehearsed and filmed it). When we watch the news, we walk away saying, "Ah- what's wrong with the world?" We all like to say how much of a corrupt and evil place this is and yet, without admitting that we are each evil and corrupt, the problem will never be adequately addressed (or even conceived of).

Clark and Lana are moving futher and further apart which is extremely painful to watch because they both love eachother without reservation [can I say that?] but one (huge) secret between them means they will never have true intimacy and can never be happy together. I am sad because I know Clark will never tell (he tried and something horrible ensued so now he's pretty much clammed-up forever, thinking there will be some alternative but secretly knowing there is not and that he is sending the relationship down the drain).

It's sad that there exist things like murder and suicide. It's sad that these things are rampant. It's sad that I call this "sad" and don't know where to go from there. Chloe was possessed by a girl who had allegedly commit suicide 10 years ago. The girl wanted retaliation on her murderer (for, you see, she had been forced to cut her wrists). Throughout the entire episode, the theme of which seemed to be mental illness, the part that I would call "saddest" was the whole unwritten, unintended part where everyone accepts as normal what happened. Dead people don't haunt you and make you slit your wrists. They don't call out to you from within walls and, when you "release" them, they don't possess your body to find their killer. And, and, and.. the other unbelievable things I could list but I won't. Even more outside this idea, what I am alarmed by or drawn to is the idea that people - i.e. the viewing audience - buy this stuff. People do not have a solid set of beliefs that can withstand tests of all kinds. People make so many allowances that, really, they have nothing left to stand on. It bothers me that the world is swallowing poisonous junk, bottle after bottle because it's never been able to say, "Oh I'm allergic to ammonia," or, "I'm lactose-intolerant," or, "I only drink on weekends." There is a vague understanding that liquids are necessary but nobody's willing to say a solid YES or a solid NO to certain things because that would require work! Who wants to stand up for what they believe in? Who wants to be ready to give a reason for the hope that they have? Who cares? Why can't I believe that Christmas is about spending time with family; that it's a "magical" time of year, that goodwill toward men is what makes the world go round? Why can't I believe in Christmas miracles and acts of selflessness that bring people back from the clutches of evil? "It's what's inside that counts." "You can do anything you put your mind to." "Be wary of Aquarius; today they will be bluntly critical with you." We, today, have the most extravagant spiritual salad I have ever seen. People have got CAR PARTS sitting atop their lettuce because they have no intention of telling ANY server, "No, thanks, I don't want any of that." You'd hurt their feelings. You'd be missing out. You'd need to explain yourself. You'd be closed-minded! You'd most certainly be uncomfortable, forced to tell someone how you don't think parmesan is appropriate for Greek. "Yea I understand that you're vegetarian but come on! It's anchovies - vegetarians eat fish, don't they? - in ranch dressing! You'll barely taste it. Pretend you didn't know. You can scrape the pieces out if you see them." (NO. I will not eat animal meat, end of story.) "Gosh, why are you such a tight-ass?"
It bothers me. THIS bothers me. It's amazing how "tolertant" we purport to be until someone throws Christianity up on the slab and everyone comes running with meat cleavers. I guess it's OK to oppress if you know the people you're oppressing are obliged to (a) keep quiet and (b) forgive you. [Are we? Are we really? If not, I've got things to say. I enjoyed Acts 16:37 for this reason.] But this is not today's beef, no. I really want the rest of the world to stop imbibing watered-down, happy-happy, sensible, non-confrontational theology (or spirituality). It's deadly and it's stupid... but it tastes great and it's available FREE OF CHARGE at every corner store you can find. (Heck, you don't even need a store - salesmen will come a-peddling to your doorstep!)

The question of the night:
What good does a blog post with many italicized words do? What are my wares and where do I peddle them? (Do I peddle?)

I am sick - revolted - by what I see but WHAT AM I DOING ABOUT IT? I'm about to prepare some banana bread for tomorrow, say my prayers and go to bed. Let me be a person of action. Perhaps a doer of the word and not just a hearer, even.

quotation station

Two from tonight:

Jon Stewart: Stephen what do you have for us?
Colbert: [Lists the 50 states of the U.S. in alphabetical order, timing himself] Twenty-two-point-eight seconds.
Jon Stewart: Wow ... is that some kind of record?
Colbert: No, I always do it in 22.8 seconds. I was just checking the stopwatch. [Reading:] 22.4? Piece of crap.

"No animals were hurt during the production of this episode. We tried but that d*** monkey was just too fast."
(Colbert)

It's official: I've got the hots for Darcy Tucker. It's been four years in the making and I finally admitted it to myself after I watched him circle following the opening goal in the ATL @ TOR game tonight. Man... I can't even describe it. ha

one thing that Christianity lacks

...is excuses. We can't make them for any of our behaviour and we certainly cannot make them about God, His character, His Word, His rules, His ways nor His Son.


In Philippians 4 are many verses that many Christians have heard quoted and over-quoted. This was one I wanted to grasp so I shrunk it:
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God," roughly translates to, "Do not worry - ask."

It is so very simple. What can possibly go wrong? What can we lack? What's the worst that could happen. He said ask, meaning that anything we need shall be supplied.

This means that the only decision any Christian ever needs to make is simply to say yes to God. He works every thing in us, around us, for us, for others through us, etc., etc. and if we can only step aside and continue saying yes to Him (decrease as He increases, so to speak) then we're golden. We almost seem useless, in a way. (but not!)

drawn in, emotionally

...I barely know what to say.

I feel many things but they all think they will be cheapened if I try to express them in words. I feel and I want to feel yet I am stuck.

drawn in

draw

I saw real moments and real harsh moments. I saw more than I can understand.
I see
I see, I think

I conclude (no)

I refuse to explain myself and I refuse to apologize.



what is it like? I was drawn in and I still feel like I'm (in) there but I don't know where "there" is anymore! now I waver in oblivion--is that it?

I almost walked away, too. I thought I'd abandon because things change.
this is starting to taste like a time I don't like. I don't like it. What happened to the days I wrote for the sake of writing? I miss.

craddle-robbing is for...... old people

I think that winter has arrived and I am more excited than forever.

I have often thought that I would like to be able to fit all of my possessions into one carryable bag. BUT, if that were possible, I would not have room for much else besides all of my music (because I refuse to throw that out). Music, Bibles and pens... I can see that being the entire itinerary. I might thing about getting a change of clothes. : Maybe I haven't planned this out. I think I am forgetting that, to be like this, I need to be constantly moving and rather well-funded.

somehow I..