Old Friends Are Best

All friends are good friends,

but old friends are best.

Old friends are like the favorite flannel shirt,

worn when the wind comes far frae the west.

They envelope in woolen splendor

and in humor are blest.

What else offers comfort

when the solstice is near?

None but the comrade, with a heart full o’ cheer!

No doubt the tales grow

as the year comes to rest

and the roar of laughter by hearth,

quiets even winter’s hoary test.

But what when they’ve gone

to lead lives like the rest?

Kinship doesn’t wane like a flame in the wind,

rather it bristles as the fires are stoked hot again.

All friends are good friends,

but old friends are best.

They rise like the phoenix

through nostalgia-fueled flame

and triumph in jubilation

at the sound of their name!

All friends are good friends,

but old friends are best!

Come hither! Come hither,

ye comrades of old!

I will not forsake you,

nor ever be cold!

What once was, still is;

What is, will remain.

Come again, old friend,

and your rightful place reclaim!

Old friend, dear old friend

sit near me once more.

Tell of the days gone by,

those wonders of yore!

Southern-Rock Christian Transcendentalism --- A Philosophy

The band Lynyrd Skynyrd and Henry David Thoreau walk into a bar…

Sound like a far-fetched joke? Perhaps, but the sentiments echoed in both Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” and Thoreau’s “Walden” resonate the same chord. The Skynyrd hit, oddly enough, is transcendental. Moreover, the two works underscore a fundamental truth. By living simply, seeking a higher purpose, following your heart and finding self-satisfaction we achieve more than any miser on a heap of gold.

The modern measure of success is the antithesis of  the comparable definition as understood by someone who grasps the transcendental conceptualization of the term. In addition, this modern concept is in complete contradiction to any Biblical standard of success. We see a massive concordance of this in the Bible.

Matthew 19:24 “And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”

Mark 10:25 “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”

Luke 18:25 “For it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” 

If one truly subscribes to the doctrine of Christ, the principle motivating force in one’s life cannot be monetary wealth. Rather, it has to be that greatest of forces—love.  Yet all too often we mock and disparage those people whose lives are not oriented toward and a product of riches. We all know the stereotype of the simple country-folk: they toil at their labors, don’t get too enraptured by “culture” and have primitive motives. The truth is that despite their common fiscal struggles, these people often lead a life “closer to the bone” that ultimately leads to purer motives and a closer relationship with God. 

Wealth is in the end a carnal substitute for the Grace of God. It is intended to replace the dependence that we have on the Creator and to ensure security in an insecure world. It’s a fool’s bet, for no amount of money can ever hedge against the uncertainties in this life—and no amount can substitute for the closeness to Christ that a life of servitude can yield.  The person who stakes it all on riches can only expect to reap sorrow in the end. Why then should we not give and love freely? Why should we disdain those who lead lives that are simpler than our own? I know of no reason. 

In the hustle and the bustle of our helter-skelter lives we miss the minutiae of the wonders that surround us. Who can afford to stop to give thanks for an unexpected summer shower when our society has declared that time is money? No one. Who can reject the opportunity to advance their well-paying career instead of spending time with loved ones when our society has declared that money is power? No one. The socio-cultural norms that exist around us are not neutral guidelines, but are in actuality burdensome shackles that keep us from achieving our life’s purpose—to love and serve God. This epiphany is unbeknownst to most. Why should we guard this secret? I dare not. I love my companions far too dearly to such. I say let us cast off the shackles of greed; let us embrace a life centered on a higher purpose. Love God, love people and realize that wealth is no substitute for Grace!

Love from on High

Were it not for rain,

that comes on the southwestern wind

and cleanses the sidewalk

of oil—and the heart of sin;

were it not for the rain

on a begrudging Sunday morn

who could stand triumphant

that once was forlorn?

Were it not for the rain,

that gives life anew

our hate might swallow

and no truth ring true.

Yet there we stand

o’er pine-boarded pew

and sing forth,

“Arise  O Lord”

and in me,

your spirit imbue.

Were it not for the rain,

that wells up inside

each time we’ve suffered

and each time we’ve cried;

were it not for the rain,

that mercifully cast

among the host of sinners

the thought of repast;

were it not for rain—

the tears of heaven come down,

no life could cleave

this parched mortal ground!  

Early Spring: A North American Panorama

In the mountains...



Spring in the Rockies
Columbine peeks from stone beds
snow-melt feeding life


In the prairies...



Lark in the morning
sings in the great golden hall
nature bows in awe
the hushed prairie applauds, sweet
enrapturement takes the breath


In the woodlands...



Wood duck chicks nested
far above the creek below
SPLASH--courage mustered!

Shine

Madness comes in daylight hour;
Starbucks-driven motorists glower
from behind metal beasts with V8 power.
Depart from here, I must soon try
before this place my countenance sours
or else my spirit decides to fly.

A grove of trees in some shady vale
with babbling brook that calls me to dwell
where olden homesteads have stories to tell.
Here among the crumbling stone
a copper pot drips into a galvanized pail—
100 proof percusses in a silvery tone.

No revenuers crouch in the laurel bed
for this is an art long thought dead.
What is there for a ‘shiner to dread
when black bears mill around the place
and leg-hold traps, threats and hot lead
are no longer needed to deter an unwanted face?

No, the game is now to sit and pick—
try to learn a new banjo tune or lick
and hope the boys at the Elks’ don’t drink themselves sick.
Yet the spirit still persists
and the cocked hammer’s mighty click
awaits anyone who this practice resists.

One owl hoot right at dusk
marks the arrival of the upper-crust—
a Cadillac emptied by a persona too brusque.
City folk from Baltimore welcomed by fiddle tune
seeking to fill some primal lust
don’t realize that they themselves are the real loon.

Why Image Doesn't Matter

“Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.”

—Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Tonight I contemplate how truth informs image. This supposition is the basis of Thoreau’s above assertion and is the axiom that underscores how one person’s perception of another is likely to be completely flawed. In general, most people promulgate complex ruses in order to affect the creation of a positive perception (i.e. an image). These ruses vary in efficacy depending on the talent of the promulgator, the gullibility of the perceiver and the similarity of the ruse to the actual personality. We see this every day; people meticulously cultivate images of intelligence, toughness, power, prestige or importance.

Grasping this concept, one may think society an inherently shallow institution. For all purposes, this is true. Prevailing society focuses narrowly on material wealth, physical beauty and prestige as vaulted ideals. Yet, these qualities no more define success in life than they do the content of a person’s character. We use these attributes as heuristics (whether knowingly or unknowingly) in order to determine relative success. This is undoubtedly one of the most pervasive fallacies within our society.

True success must be evaluated from an intrapersonal analysis of character. No other quality is acceptable in this endeavor because no other quality pierces the internal ethic. Certainly people are capable of layering (or building barriers) through which they are able to overcome self-loathing, remorse or a sense of moral failure. However, these practices usually result in nothing more than grand facades. Assuredly, there are people who have an inflated view of themselves. However, as a rule the strength of a grounded (whether by faith or secular source) moral code prevails. Such an evaluation must come from within because no person knows as much about you as yourself. The ruses that we create provide disinformation to those who attempt to evaluate our character. Even when we do not create such ruses, outside evaluations are skewed by bias and lack of information.

When people judge quickly, they usually do so in error. All actions occur in context, yet most people do not consider such context. An otherwise laudable person may act inappropriately on a bad day. Likewise, an action intended to be good may be perceived as otherwise because of the aforementioned bias. Such biases may be cultural, political, ideological or biological. Serious contemplation of why people do the things that they do is paramount to reducing said bias. Breadth of knowledge with regard to culture, sociology, psychology, ethics, religion and history aids in this understanding. Closed-mindedness is obviously anathema to understanding and does nothing improve your worldview.

Why then, do we concern ourselves so much with how we are perceived by others? In truth, it is an exercise in stupidity. No person is allowed to define who we are but ourselves. We have a monopoly on knowledge of our character. Every other person has, at best, a flawed perception of you. Therefore, if you honestly and thoroughly examine your character and find that you are generally good (though imperfect) then that is what truly matters. To employ one of my favorite phrases, everyone else can go play in traffic. I don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth, but I think that Thoreau would feel the same way.

Film Review: The Grey

After a couple weeks of nose to the grindstone drudgery I decided that it was time to do something fun and go to a movie. I quickly perused the local showings and came up with “The Grey” (staring Liam Neeson). Based on the preview, this movie was perfect for my interests. The previews screamed action, wilderness and manliness. Little did I know that even with these elements combined, a film can still be a fantastic flop. Unfortunately, this was the case for “The Grey”. Now, I must preface this statement with a disclaimer. I am a HORRIBLE person to enjoy a film with because I have strong rational/analytical tendencies. This film brought them out and had me literally laughing in scenes where the suspense was supposed to be mounting. In general, the film lacked realism with respect to wilderness survival, human physiology, weaponry and wildlife behavior. If you still want to watch the film based on this assessment please discontinue reading, as the following portion has spoilers.




SPOILER WARNING



The film begins by setting up Neeson’s character as the rugged, troubled male archetype. This is by no means a stretch for Neeson’s acting, but he plays the role well. Neeson is a hired hunter who is employed to shoot problem wolves that are preying on Alaskan pipeline workers. Neeson and crew are stranded in the middle of Alaska after an airplance crash and are constantly beset by wolf attacks. This is your first hint as to the preposterousness of the plot. Wolves simply don’t attack humans on a regular enough basis to merit hiring someone for this role. In 2002 Mark McNay (Alaska Fish & Game) sought to collect data on all reported wolf attacks from 1900 to 2002. In total, McNay record 80 incidents, only 51 of which were aggressive in nature (http://fwp.mt.gov/fwpDoc.html?id=10996). Furthermore, of these 51 cases, 12 cases likely involved rabid wolves. These documents cases came from Alaska, Canada and Minnesota. In total, McNay estimated that there were up to 70,000 wolves in Canada and Alaska at the time of the study. Considering these figures, wolf attacks on humans are very rare.

The producers of “The Grey” did not let such facts get into the way of their storyline. The depiction of wolves in this film is ridiculous. Wolves in “The Grey” attack in solitary (against their pack hunting nature), in frontal assaults and amidst encircling campfires. The pack that Neeson and friends must endure take each and opportunity to kill. When this happens the wolves kill out of anger/territoriality/vengeance, not out of hunger. Ummm…what? It is also important to note that these wolves are obviously taking anabolic steroids. They are huge! According to the International Wolf Center, male Alaskan Grey Wolves usually weigh between 85 and 115 lbs. They may occasionally weigh 130 lbs (http://www.wolf.org/wolves/learn/basic/faqs/faq.asp). Based on proportional dimension comparisons, the wolves in the film must weigh 250-300 lbs.

Although the wolf depiction is the most farcical aspect of the film, the survival tactics and weaponry used in the film are not far behind. As his primary hunting weapon, Neeson uses a Remington Model 700 in an unknown chambering. This makes some sense because of the 700’s heritage as a dependable, accurate and versatile hunting rifle. However, Neeson’s particular 700 is blued steel and stocked in walnut—an inexpressibly poor choice considering the weather conditions of Alaska. After the plane crash Neeson recovers his rifle and a box of 12 gauge shotgun shells (though we never see a shotgun). The rifle’s stock is broken, but instead of attempting to mend the stock (electrical tape is used thoroughout the film) or firing it in a makeshift manner, Neeson simply discards it. Not so for the shotgun shells! Neeson takes the shotgun shells and attaches them to whittled poles with electrical tape in an attempt to fashion a bang-stick. Never mind the fact that it is absolutely impossible for a piece of wood to detonate a 209 shotgun primer (electrical taped on) by jabbing it into a wolf’s side. It works! At this point I simply lost interest in the film. But wait, there is more! After Neeson and crew successfully use their bang-sticks to kill a wolf, they completely discard all weapons until the final scene. This happens despite the fact that each person carries a hunting knife large enough to make Rambo jealous. Apparently it never occurs to them to fashion a makeshift spear with a 8” carbon steel blade at the end. That would make far too much sense! The final scene reaches a zenith of absurdity when Neeson combats the alpha wolf (400 lbs) by (and I kid you not) electrical-taping miniature alcohol bottles to his hands and then busting them on a nearby rock. I am just going to let that sink in for a moment. Go ahead, take your time digesting that bit of weaponology. I’m sure that suburban teenagers in New Jersey will be doing this and broadcasting it on Youtube shortly after they see the film.

The survival failures in the film depressed me less than the wolf portrayal and the weapon absurdity. This is mainly because very few films and very few survival reality televisions shows get it right. [Yes, I am looking at you Bear Grylls!] The number of survival sins committed in the film are endless, but notably the gaggle of survivors relocated from the scene of the plane crash despite having a locating beacon. The most fantastical act of lunacy (straight out of “Man vs. Wild”) was when the group make an improvised rope by tying together shirts, fabric, string, etc and then decided to jump into a 300 ft. chasm in hopes of latching onto an evergreen tree mid-flight. Of course, it worked! Three out of four people managed to survive that experience. The one man that did die was afraid of heights, had a bandaged (non-functioning) hand and had a zipper-pull caught in the improvised rope. Minor survival infractions included the copious consumption of alcohol in -10 F weather and diving into rivers.

In conclusion, “The Grey” had several exciting and suspenseful scenes. Neeson couldn’t have played his role better, but the role itself was a worn-out archetype. The utter and total disregard for realism killed the rest of the movie. This film merits 2 out of 5 stars for me, simply because it managed to put wilderness + manliness + action on a screen in front of me.

"The Grey" movie poster included under Fair Use Law (commentary).