Series: Mosaic Tablets (4/10)

Number Four: theft [8]

Exodus 20:15 - "You shall not steal."

I was wondering how I'd approach this one and the honor your parents one. I imagine I'll wait until next weekend when I see my mother and that one will prolly take care of itself. I know "adultery" is going to be a post about lust cuz I am not really in a position to commit the literal or the OT version of adultery. The rest shouldn't be too hard to find. I look forward to seeing how the "Sabbath Day" post comes out.

Every artist that I witnessed at the Bullring's Open Mic night stole something - they stole some other musician's work - but I'm OK with it. I'm not sure any copyright laws are broken if you're not making a profit...

Oh what a magical evening. I went to the Bullring to eat and ended up with such a pleasant surprize for 2 or 3 hours. Four men and one woman played their guitars and all but one of them sang. All but one of them were EXCELLENT. This one guy, who came out of nowhere, was mind-boggling. I stole from him...I made a few recordings of his stuff that I have yet to check the quality of. He was clearly a veteran of the instrument and barely looked up while he worked amazing things into the air. He played with that little cool device that allows you to record something and play it back looped*. He sometimes used three or four layers and soloed on top. Amazing.
The girl surprized me because I had a class with her last semester and THOUGHT I had her figured out. Score one point against pre-judging.

I forgot and re-rememered today that the challenge of this series made no stipulations about the content of the posts so I am officially off the hook.



*Here's a great example of said technology: http://youtube.com/watch?v=pSIbfzK2spg

Series: Mosaic Tablets (3/10)

Number three: envy [10]

Exodus 20:17 - "You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor."

If envy was acceptable, this is the list I would make:
Older sister: Without really knowing how to put it into words, I'd have to say that I envy how she has experienced parts of the world. She has seen things and been to places that I just probably won't ever see or go to. She's also done stuff that I would have liked to do. It's a very trecharous balance, wanting what I know is not good for me because it feels good. It's a weird temptation and it scares me as much as it pleases me. Jim Carroll's "Basketball Diaries" does the same for me but Jim Carroll is not my older sister.
Younger brother: I think I'd have to say I'm envious of his friends. I'm envious that he was famous within his high school, that people he doesn't know would come up to him and say, "Hey you're that hot-dog guy!" or something like that (because of a prank he'd pulled with hot-dogs). I envy his friends because they have so so so much fun together. They get each other, they fit into each other's worlds well and they enjoy themselves. It's cool.
http://www.bushmanandsnowflake.cjb.net/ (their website)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=f3QRqf6RH5A (video feat. my bro-dude)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=sy9XMqs_h6Y (video feat. his best friend)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=tw9uF0Bh_n8 (video feat. both nutjobs)
[links 1, 2 and 3 contain coarse language. viewer discretion is advised.]
Younger brother #2: I'm envious of his athletic abilities. Nevermind being able to take to any one sport at the drop of a hat but spending 5 days out of 7 in American states with the Ontario Blue Jays, being scouted by the majors, and throwing 89mph.... it's ridiculous.
Younger brother #3: He's too weird. He's weirder than I can really comprehend and his influences are unbeknownst to me. I also love that he's so quick-witted. He's got to be the fastest in the family and it adds to the effect when he literally speaks quickly.
His mom: Actually, J____, you really need to start saving cuz you've been working for three months and you don't have a penny to your name.
Brother #3: No, I have eighteen hundred...(pause)...pennies to my name. ...I have eighteen dollars.
Younger Sister: I am envious of her beauty. I didn't think I would end up listing something so shallow but heck - let's just be honest. Honesty is a good thing. She fits in perfectly with the definition of conventional beauty. Fortunately (fortunately for her own sake and for my peace of mind), she doesn't exploit her beauty to the fullest extent. She might get into that eventually but I doubt that simply because I think she already gets more attention than she's perfectly comfortable with. She is probably the most popular girl in school and she loves it. She makes girls jealous and makes boys ...ridiculous. I'm not particularly interested in that stuff I'm just amazed at how naturally beautiful she is, and how she fits the mold. It's crayzee.
Younger Brother #4: I admire his raw artistic ability. He is adept at drawing what he sees and that is amazing for a seven-year-old. I ...oops..envy not admire... I envy his sponge-like ability to learn. He is quiet when he's paying attention to what adults are saying, knowing that we will assume he's not listening so we're free to talk about something relating to him. I'm envious of his recklessness, that he'll just try anything but that's typical of most young kids. Really, what strikes me most about him is how competent he is and I know it's mostly natural ability because he has had the same parental and grandparental influences as this three older siblings yet he stands out in this way.
Younger Sister #2: I envy her incorrigable cuteness. It's not something I could reasonably have as an adult because then I would just look ridiculous and annoy the crap out of people. But I must envy her care-free nature (which, again, is a given for young children). I love that she's smiling most of the time, that she's resilient, that she's forgiving and that she's reasonably patient. She enjoys quiet moments but can deal with chaotic loud ones, too. These are mostly admiring comments... I find it hard to envy her before she's really...a real person.

Mother: I envy her work attitude. It's practically impeccable. She works for what she wants and attains it. She knows what she needs and what she wants and is very responsible in terms of how she accumulates goods or services.
Father: I envy his patois. I like the way it sounds and I like that he's... effectively bilingual. (I'm going to make that leap.) I also envy his endurance. He rarely sleeps more than five hours per night and rarely eats a full meal and rarely works fewer than 10 hours a day, usually including weekends. Yes, there are drawbacks to that lifestyle, of course, of course. But I do admire how he can just go go go go go. He's the kind of being that helps me to understand how people endured slavery. Like you look at what was done and just can't imagine how a human body and a human mind would withstand it all ..but people were different then. With different parents, different influences, different conditioning and no choice, it was totally possible.

best line from a camper EVER?

sung to the tune of Happy Birthday, but the second part, like when you sing, "How old are you now?" (on my birthday, 2006) :



"Who's your boyfriend, ferr-nee?"

I exclaim, unbelieving, "Fer-nee? Who is Fernee? Like the plant?"

She's started laughing already. "Yea!"

Series: Mosaic Tablets (2/10)

Number Two: idolatry [2]

Exodus 20:4 - "You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below."

I try not to say it often, but today I really hate the kind of person I am.
I know what my idols are. I guess they're here on earth and not in the air or the sea..and I can't say that I made them, the same way the Israelites made the golden calf. I can, of course, fully admit that I made them idols. There's two that I can think of and I'm sure the third could be myself but that doesn't make sense to me.
I took the time to think about it today because I knew I had something bloggy to say but that I had to keep within the recently-delivered rules.

I don't....... hmm. Stream of conscious writing is very important to me and.... so..... I think this post is just about over because I have nothing more to say.
I can't say I've learned much (much that is profound) today and I can't say I've dealt with the idols. In this space of two hours that I have been home after a day away, I can say that I have resisted temptation well. Beyond that... I don't know. God.... deserves much and receives little. I'm just not soberly seeing how idols hinder and blurr and distract -- and how that means you can't have all of God. He is a jealous God --dude... THAT just made sense to me. "Jealous" has always been a tricky term for me in this context but it's all coming together.
He is a jealous God and just...just doesn't stand other things being considered anywhere near close to being on-par with Him. goose egg.... Hmmm. So I just need to see it. I just need to clearly see what absolute allegiance is like. Cast off all the crap that hinders and entangles my everything...

Maybe I could add to that, now that I've taken the time to locate the verse I was thinking of. "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith..." Now there's a verse I would love to dissect on a platter and serve at a party. That could be another series.

Series: Mosaic Tablets

Number One: murder [6]

--Editor's note: I want to challenge myself. I want to make the next ten blog entries parts of this series. I'm not going to force any thing and I will put other posts on hold until this challenge has been met but I am kinda nervous. It's hard for me to not write what I want to write. It's like..... it's like something. It's like not speaking up when your rights are being trampled. Something like that. It'll be interesting to see how I view my days based on how they mights relate to these commands.

Exodus 20:13 - "You shall not murder."

In an episode of CSI: Miami I recently watched, a young man was being questioned about the lead fragments found lodged in the side of his shoe. From the crime scene, investigators found that someone had discharged a gun straight into the floor which inculpates boy for the bullet fragments he walked away with. After the interrogators did their typical breaking down of the suspect he began to tell his story. The victim was trying to convince the shooter that he didn't have the guts to pull the trigger. He belittled and verbally degraded the young man, almost sneeringly; rising and walking towards him like a goalie confronting a break-away to cut down the angle. The boy protested a little and the man continued on, increasing in meanness, sounding more and more like a schoolyard bully or an unpleasant older brother and the gunman snapped (raised the gun and fired twice in the chest).
I saw the way the older man was talking, I understood what he was trying to do and more important, I understood what the shooter was experiencing. I certainly didn't try to put my self in either man's shoes, I hardly ever do that without being prompted. But the rude man hit a certain line and I was like, "OK, now is when you're supposed to shoot him." I may well have lifted my own arm as I was watching TV. I could see how the rage would blind you and the emotions would guide you so that you just want to do something to powerfully hurt the other person. You know what they're doing and how they're manipulating you and there just doesn't seem to be a way you can make them stop. The squeeze on the trigger, in my understanding of that tableau, would provide the exact same SNAP-BANG that comes from breaking something brittle (audible?) in half or smashing a glass or china plate or maybe slamming a fist onto a table... it's all the same. Does my anger scare you? Sometimes it concerns me and I don't know what else to say about that. No one's ever called me on it, perhaps because they're afraid of me or of how I will react. Either way, I finally really understood what Christ meant when He said, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment." (Matthew 5:21-2a)
I wish I could remember who it was that told me the only difference between murder and anger is the law. It just draws a line in the sand and makes the two acts separate. I wish I could remember the thesis of their argument cuz it would help establish that point but nonetheless I see the truth of it.
I don't want to murder anyone and I never will (assuming that I don't develop a mental illness later in life). But, I can understand how I might make the mistake of reacting to anger by doing something drastic and fatal. Moral of the story? Keep a tight rein on your everything. Oh, and Jesus knows what He's talking about.

pop quiz addendum

e) it was painfully spicy when it left, too; or
g) all of the above

pop quiz:

that food was so spicy that:

a) it gave me the hiccups,
b) it made my nose run,
c) it prevailed over three pieces of bread and 2 cups of orange juice,
d) my tongue felt like it was bleeding when I finished, or
e) all of the above.



how about f) you're a gimp...

OH, my godness,

and Matthew McConaughey. (This must be why I was under the impression that these two were both such good actors...finding myself subsequently disappointed. Meeeehhh.. I need to do some research.)

Sammy J's best acting role ever,

hands down, is Carl Lee Hailey in A Time to Kill (1996). No question.

I miss tension....

I (kinda) long for the days when I fought with people. I don't wanna be a..... a violent person or a poop-disturber of sorts, not really.
I think I'm just looking for some good old-fashioned primal confrontation. (Not too primal..just gutsy.) It's not necessarily that I want to go through something painful - though I don't think this would be painful since the reason it's so confrontational is that we've forsaken tact and politeness and concern about people's feelings - it's just that I want to go through something _____. Something something. I'm weird.
I was recollecting a Sunday afternoon moment, when, standing with a group of about six people about to part ways, a friend of mine was about to share something I had said the day before. Because I "knew" [you never really KNOW, do you?] - because I knew what she was going to say, I overlapped toward the person she was more specifically addressing, "She's gonna exaggerate this, just so you know," and I caught the weirdest look for it. It wasn't so much weird as it was unique, in terms of all the facial expressions I've ever seen this person pull in the four years I've known her. But I could guess. It was something like mild shock and preparation to be offended. I don't remember all of what she said but it definitely started with "Well..." She tried to protest but.. I think she was mostly deflated that I had ruined the effect of the story.. pretty much. (I can't say I don't approve of this outcome.)
My goal was to temper her effects, really. I mean when people tell certain stories a certain way - and the person they're talking about reacts a certain way, everyone believes the teller and laughs at the subject. (I hate this.. and it happens too often. I feel like I'm being pummeled in the corner. Maybe that makes me a weak person. Maybe I'm hypersensitive. Still...I make no apologies.) This friend has done this to me MANY, MANY times cuz it's part of her personality. She does it to other people, I've seen, but I'm guessing they deal with it better than I do. I try to correct people... I try to say, This is what actually happened. Or if I'm lucky, I drop a direct quote. Sometimes it's a matter of reason... "Well how could THAT have happened if THIS is clearly true?" Meh... I'm annoyed.

The moral of the story is, I'm glad I got to do that because... I think I'll do it more.

Today.... today, two of my friends were talking about a get-together that we (plus another out-of-townie person) are trying to plan for the near future. The role of information hub has fallen to me which, essentially I don't mind because I talk to the other three quite regularly and I know how to do the relay thing. But in this particular case it has been very frustrating because I end up being viewed as a mouthpiece or a representative or a secretary for the person whose information I'm sharing and I get asked questions that I simply cannot answer. Don't shoot the messenger... Don't interrogate the messenger. Man, screw the messenger, just go talk to the person.
I had said something like, "Man, we suck at communication," or, "We should just all talk at the same time. That might help," in an unforgiving tone. I was not amused. I walk to another room. Friend 1 arrives and Friend 2 starts asking questions to help get our communal information up-to-date. (This is good, sure.) They talk, and I'm doing stuff, whatever, listening, but not looking at them... Then they stop. "Jess...?" I say, "Yea?" without looking up. No answer. So I look. Their expressions don't change, NEIther of them. So I don't know how to react. I keep looking because I expect people who call my name to have something to say, ask, show, give etc. to me. "What," without an upward tone comes out to cut the silence, slightly. I'm still not smiling and don't intend to. Finally I explain: "There was no question..what am I supposed to answer?" They look at each other awkwardly and fumble over some words. "Oh. I guess uh...yea that'll work." Or something. There wasn't much substance cuz they were only trying to talk to cover their awkwardness. I don't.... care. (Can I say that? I hope I read this post tomorrow and can call myself a boorish dolt.) I can't stand people calling my name for no reason -- not just that but expecting me to know what they're about when it's not obvious. If I even had a slight idea, I'd try, I promise. Don't make me guess and just stare me in the face in the mean time. You think I'm playing with you but the truth is I'm just ignorant. Friend 1 does this to me all the time. It pisses me off. Mmmm

Well I need to go talk to God now, and throw around some apologies. Mm-hmm.

I am sad that Prizon Break wasn't on tonight.

Stoopid baseball...

I don't like seeing jobs posted online AFTER they've already been posted weeks earlier and AFTER I have had interviews there. BOO! It's happened twice and BOTH from 'views that I nailed. Ahh.. it's stupid conflicts of schedules and crap like that. Boooooourns.

still addicted to the cuss

I've been wondering about this lately.
I was trying to figure out what it is that made me able to drop f-bombs (not all the time and never in writing - weird) without getting that foul taste in my mouth and rude sting of regret everywhere else. I mean, it's not painful but neither is it good. Nevermind "good" in terms of the rest of the world or other peole or the Bible, I mean I hardly enjoy it. It's... I'm in the wrong spot between extremes. I'd need to either hang out with people who cussed all the time, making me normal, OR I would need to hang out with people who thought the f-bizzy had its place or... was funny or .. something. I dunno. But I'm not in the right spot. Still, the tempatation remains. It's not like it used to be, either. I used to fantasize about being able to swear out of righteous (or snapping) anger - something that I think "justifies" me.
I'm kinda disappointed that the sound doesn't shock me anymore. Like... it used to be the weirdest flip-out moment for me, every time. I miss that.
I was remembering that it was my friend (who's a Jesus-lover) who dropped a few Fs those many weeks ago who made me think it was "OK" to swear. OK is a bit of a cop-out term but I've got nothing less. I think the incident totally played on my weaknesses, like I was simply waiting for a green light..sitting at the intersection gunning my engine over and over and over again....
Ahh... I was thinking the other day that "the only thing that could stop me" would be if another Jesus-loving friend were to tell me something. I mean, clearly I can't tell me anything and I'm not reading the Bible properly so maybe I gotta go out the same way I came in. (Does this mean I want to stop?)
So I swore today.. because.. well for whatever reason (not really a "good") one and my friend, the only one in the room who heard me - as I intended - said something very contextual and I responded. Then she asked, "Do your flaunt your freedom?" and I replied as quickly as I could, "Unpack that." She said, "No... I can't." Unsure, I claimed, "Well I don't know how to answer that." (I'm sure I don't...) [pause] "What does that mean?" "I don't know, I just want you to think about it. [beat] Galaish it up."
Is that a rebuke? I have to ask myself. Was that it?
In the back of my heart I keep thinking (to God), Was that it? Was that You coming down on me? Shall I take heed?
Hmm... I want to say, "I'm still not sure," but that's a mask. "I'll have to think about that," is a truism. I asked her in the car whenst we left, "What does it mean to flaunt your freedom," borderline exasperated. I know in this sitchs that if you push to hard you lose it all together. You gots to coax it out (if possible). "Coax" is a great Scrabble word. She said she didn't really know, for serious. She said something that resembled, "I don't even know why I said it," which evoked a bitter-sweet reaction in me. On one hand, I thought maybe she was being random and didn't really have anything to say to me (though that theory is faulted by her reference to Galatians). But on the other hand, I thought maybe she was just being an obedient vessel. Ugh.. I hate it when that happens. (I mean I think it's cool but I don't always like.. being corrected. Or humbled. And it is of course in this moment right here that I remember praying either yesterday or the day before that God would humble me. Ah-ha. So He's still listening then. Got it.) Obedient vessel it is. I guess that's the end of that.

(wouldn't it be great if I could voluntarily write a post - a sister post, even - called, "addicted to the cross"? ahh, one day.)

I think my favorite hero just might be the Headless Horseman (all forms).

Between early afternoon of Saturday the 6th and early morning of Tuesday the 9th, I watched four films at my Dad's house. (Four films I've never seen before.) And I was struck by the fact that each film had something very peculiar in common. I wish I was a drama student, that I might express this concisely but I'm not so I'll just flounder.

• We Are Marshall - 2006
• Constellation - 2005
• Even Money - 2006
• Freedom Land - 2006

I feel like there were actually five films I watched cuz I remember it seeming like TOO MANY for that period of time. O well.

We Are Marshall I happened to be looking forward to seeing because I had watched an interview with Matthew McConaughey talking about the role and about the story the film was based upon. I got tired of Hollywood sports movies about 6 or 7 years ago (maybe more) because there's a limit to how many times I'll watch the SAME story over and over again. I'm pretty sure I've avoided them since. This one I ordinarily would have declined to watch but that little interview convinced me that this may not be from a cookie-cutter. It was good in that respect, it really was. The film surprized me in some ways, it seemed respectful enough to not go too crazy with embellishing the story and generally it was a well put-together piece of action. I think the common theme among these four films is that I couldn't figure out what they were getting at. I watch them and I want to ask, What's the point?, not like they're wasting my time but I don't get what the writer/director/producer people are trying to say. I don't know WHY they made the film. And that's cool. I appreciate the mystery.

With all of these films there seemed to be something in them that was raw for lack of a better word. On average, there were more moments of silence (i.e. without background music) than what you see in most films. Constellation totally threw me for a loop. I don't rightly remember all of what it was about but I do know that it was cool. They showed the tension of race relations in the US (c. WWII) in a way that wasn't cliché but also wasn't sugar-coated so that was neat.

What I liked most about Even Money was that I had at least two or three moments where I had to remind myself that I was still watching the same film. I don't know how long it was or whatever but there were like four different stories unfolding concurrently and they were so distinct and so complete that they could have (I'm cautious with this) been films unto themselves. I really appreciate the compartmentalizing that was involved because it really kept me in the dark in terms of what could come next.

Freedom Land, honest, was like a glorified episode of CSI: [Las Vegas], Miami or New York. It was a mystery - like a murder mystery (whodunnit?) - and it really kept me hangin on. Not just that but it made my dad and I spew our speculations, queries and ideas verbally. It's cool. I mean it's really awesome when a (mainstream) film forces you to engage with it to the point where you've got to share your experience with fellow viewers. I mean, some will keep you talking afterward which is also great but if you're so enraptured while you're watching that you can't seem to help make comments aloud then that's cool, too. Love it. (Fight Club was like this. What else was? ... I gotta work on that.) I didn't expect I'd appreciate a Sammy J film so much. His arrogance can be very repulsive but more in real life than while he's working. And as for Miss Julianne Moore, I was very impressed that she made me forget all the roles of hers I've seen hitherto. Maybe I didn't forget them exactly but I couldn't pick which one I wanted to compare to what I was watching. I thought it was a great film... it just kept me guessing and made me work hard to keep up with it - like The Lord of the Rings trilogy. booya

INappropriate

note to self: do not eat food while watching the initial scenes of CSI: Miami. no good.

ADIDAS

Soooooooo I'm tired. Finalement.
I arrived at Polling Office 027 at 7 minutes after 8 in the morning. (I was 7 minutes late.) I don't know the exact time I walked out of there but I do know that after I got home, changed my clothes, called in the final numbers on the Referendum (OOPS!) and put a few things away, it was 5 minutes to midnight. Somehow that doesn't make sense to me since... since I KNOW we closed the polls at 9...and the last time I looked at the clock it was 22h30. How can this be? (Number 027 is Tytler Public School, 131 Ontario Street. I live at 140 Ontario street. I go from door to door in under a minute.) What gives?

Hmm...there's too much to tell about a day that long. Too much.
The perks?
Mmmmmm feeling like you're doing a job that most people will not do but that is important. It feels kynda like a civic duty... a.... I don't know. I don't feel like tooting any horns. Poll Clerks (and Deputy Returning Officers and other such peeps) are needed. They are and I look forward to doing this again next year. I do love all the maths and systematizing and organization that's involved. It's so far up my alley it's mental.

I enjoyed the moment when the national anthem played and I stood up almost without thinking. I mean, it's reflex but I also knew I was excited. When the others fell silent, I looked over and saw they were all standing, too. Cool. I don't know how scrutible it was but my facial expression reflected something that resembles childlike awe. My eyes were round, off in the distance (checking out the mountains, perhaps?), my chin held high and I smiled faintly. I went in and out of being aware of what I was doing. It was a good moment.

Things I Hate
-Sandals on men.
-Sandals on women.
-Sandals.

(I really only feel strongly about the first point but I can't justify it, save for the fact that I'm attracted to men and not to women.. meaning I sometimes care about what they look like.)

I had a monster cup of Kenya tea this morning, around 9.30 (I'm amazed that it was still reasonably hot by that time when I made it at 8.04 and couldn't get a hold of my housemate to deliver it for me until an hour and half later). I had a lemon pudding shortly thereafter and around 13h08, I ordered a pizza. (I doubt that was allowed or approved of but there you have it.) Eight hours and six slices later, I LOATHE pizza. It's not so much that I mind eating it more than once during the course of one day, the problem is that I would have liked to switch it up just a LITTLE bit in between, like say with a glass of juice or some salad, maybe a few cookies (can I describe my love & weakness for chocolate?) probably because you gotta have that balance between bready and fruity/vegetably. I didn't know what I'd eat when I came home cuz there's not much here but sauteed zucchini (which I forgot I had) and fried curryish shrimp (which I forgot I had) was absolutely delicious. It was so non-carby, too. I feel more balanced than I thought I would be by the end of this day. I thought I'd have to work it out tomorrow. Love it.

There were many Italians who came to our poll. I think that's cool only because I am fascinated by Italian culture (the food, the values, the history I know nothing about...) and enchanted by the language. It's cool.

I appreciate all the people who voted in the election today and at the advanced polls. I wonder about the missing demographic, though. It's a bit ridiculous.

I did not particularly enjoy the moment when my Deputy Returning Officer (the guy who manned the table with me the whole day) asked me if I had been at uni for 5 years because I was not taking a full courseload or because I was failing courses. That made me feel pretty weird. I can handle being judged or looked down on by people I know but for a stranger to say that -- a stranger of like two hours -- it hurt pretty bad. AH! (Am I obvious or something? Yea, I'm failing school...Is it written on my forehead? Gosh.)

Quote from the Ceebs Report that's on right now:
He was giving a "Tip of My Hat" to French youth ("not for their indifference or cool smoking habits") because a group of them broke into the Musée d'Orsay and punched a hole in a Monet painting. In a mock-concerned and sing-song voice he exclaims, "Ohh! Monet was such a GEEnius! [beat; audience laughs] Well if he was such a genius he should have painted on something less punchable, like a highway sign."