As promised, I’m sharing some of my current class on Evil (and the Justice of God) here at the blog.
The sound system, or lack of one, was poor in class, so I wanted to make this available to my class and the rest of you.
Tell me what you think.
Tag: poor
SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage
Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.
This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.
True Story:
Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.
So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed.
Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, a second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.
As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.
Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.
My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.
That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.
Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)
At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.
Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?
How is this going to end?
I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!
Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.
They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.
I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)
I decide on the element of SURPRISE!
Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”
Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.
(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)
I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:
Operation Boo-hoo.
It’s go time!
I burst into tears.
I cry.
Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.
Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.
Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).
From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)
Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.
He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)
Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.
Or, just something too crazy to understand.
Shock and bawl.
I was going for, “Wha….?”
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.
Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.
If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.
I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.
P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)
To Cuss or Not to Cuss…7 Tip Offs
Cuss / noun
1 an annoying or stubborn person or animal : he was certainly an unsociable cuss. 2 another term for curse (sense 2).
Disclaimer: I’m not using a moral arguement against cussing, though you might expect I would, at a site with spiritual flavor like this one. While, many may say it’s a sin to cuss, I think what may be the truest thing is that the intention of using the vulgarity that is the real issue at stake. Nevertheless, I won’t go in that direction. My contentions are not nearly so deep or heartfelt. This is simple practicality and common sense at work:
Simply put: I don’t think foul language is powerful enough. I finding it lacking. Any great use of the stuff tips me off that I’m in the company of communication amateurs.
In truth, I’m not very offended by expletives. The shock wore off in high school. And high school–childhood–is about the only time a certain amount of cussing is, sort of, understandable. By nature, kids don’t know how to express themselves very well. Salty language makes rookie humans feel older and more formidable. It gives them a sense of power, as they flex their ” ‘I’m growing up’ muscles”. Yet, it’s the running myth that if something is bleeped on tv, it resides in the realm of “grown-up language”, and signifies something more heady and legit. In fact, expletives are quite banal.
I cuss quite rarely, and when I do it’s actually because I’m having trouble expressing myself. In some foolish desperation I concede to inferior “describing words”. So, really, cussing takes away from our points, rather than aids them.
Just for the sake of developing better communication, we needn’t use them. Maybe you enjoy tossing around a swear here or there. I don’t really care. But here are 7 points to remember on this topic:
7 Cussing Tip Offs
1. Cussing quickly reveals one has a diminished vocabulary or the inability to use their vocabulary very well. (This can become a worsening habit also. Hence, it is sometimes combated with a Swear (fine) Bank.)
2. It displays a rather uncreative mind. (What could help? Simple: A thesaurus.)
3. If a cuss word can be used as an adjective, noun, and verb, it’s hackneyed, and by consequence, impotent. Let’s just say it’s, “lame” in a hobbling sense.
4. While cussing may somehow help one reveal emotions, or relieve stress, it doesn’t help one’s case. Quite the opposite. Logic is a better choice. Give it a try.
5. Foul language tells a bigger story about the person and his/her hang ups than it does about whatever the person is trying to convey. (It’s sort of sad, really.)
6. Cussing offends people for a myriad of reasons, but strangely enough, much use of it boils down to spotlighting simple bad manners and poor taste. Throughout history, “vulgar” language has some sort of reflection on social or economic status. [Ex: A mother says to her child who has been running around with the kids from “the other side of the tracks”, “No, honey, we don’t talk like that (or them).”] Most often people mentally associate foul language with an uncouth boorish social class, or uneducated and unrefined upbringing.
7. “Dirty words” are given meaning by a culture, not the other way around. What is the massively cussing person trying to prove, then? And why? [That’s the bigger question.] Here, subtext trumps communication. so probably a #fail
What are your thoughts?
My favorite cuss quote:
“Are you cussing with me?” -Fantastic Mr. Fox
Of Bullies & 5 Clues that Your Dictatorship is Ending
I have to be very honest with all of you today. I’m REALLY struggling.
I’m reeling from some awful news about a man who’s been going to our church. The article is here, but be aware, it makes for horrid reading if you’re a parent, or have a heart for children.
Everyone is heartily nauseated by this series of events, and plenty of people hope he dies, or is tortured, etc. As sick as this makes me, I continue to wonder where redemption and restoration can be found for all involved. What would God have us do? My heart feels broken.
I ask you to stop, right now, and pray for all involved.
Abuses of authority rank at the top of things I loathe, and I’ve seen it in many varieties that I won’t go into right now. I just cannot seem to get a handle on this situation, right now. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I’ve been wondering just how many young people have been hurt by this person, or those like him.
Sadly, the statics are so high, it’s likely there are more abusers that just haven’t been caught, within our fellowship and community–but I pray not. The trouble is, like rape, child molestation is one of the most underreported crimes. The FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin states that only 1-10% are ever disclosed. Please, read that again, and let it sink in.
Kids like my disabled son, and shy children, are prime targets. And hearing about it all, so close to home, makes my blood run cold, and prompts me to action to defend and protect the innocent.
A FEW FAST FACTS that you should know:
• 96% of these types of abusers are male, and the average pedophile knows the victim, and molests 260 victims during their lifetime.
(I’m not trying to condemn a gender, but seriously…what the heck?!)
• All have a fascination with pornography. Please! Read that again. Now, think: how easy is it to get a hold of that, and feed the monster? Rates of abuse are skyrocketing, with no end in site. If you struggle with this issue, and pornography is in your life. Get. help. now.
Pornography is a gateway poison, that leads to a diseased mind and criminality. We need to come forward, and be honest about just how detrimental it is for all sectors of our society.
• The behavior is highly repetitive, to the point of compulsion, rather than resulting from a lack of judgment.
Um. wow.
And here the other fast facts from that source.
For now,
I’m going to channel my energies in this post to opposing and satirizing Dictators, because that’s about all I can do without crying, at the moment. Bullies come in all shapes, sizes, and varieties, but they have the same basic qualities.
My choice today is Muammar Muhammad al-Gaddafi, who’s a bit dim witted. Bullies thrive with creating fear, dictators especially so. When the fear is diminished, hope flourishes; and many will struggle to the death to gain freedom.
Here are 5 Clues Gaddafi could use to extend his life. But, I really hope he never reads this.
1. Realize the importance of shoes. Sure, women, for millennia, have valued shoes, but in the middle east, the bottom of one’s shoe is considered vile. If posters of you are getting whacked with shoes, your time is running out. You are considered lower than dirt, and probably for good reason.
2. Calling Yourself a Martyr Doesn’t seem to hold any sway. When Gaddafi said, “I cannot leave my country, I will die a martyr,” it probably told his opposition he really just “didn’t get it”, right? Or, maybe martyr in Arabic means “fool”.
3. Your Fancy Hats Cease to Charm People. Nothing says coo-coo like a stupid hat worn by a sociopath. This has never been more true. You folks from Reedsville know just what I mean.
4. Your Putting on of Aires is Lamentable. If you pretend you are Lawrence of Arabia and try to imitate his wardrobe, disaster is probably in your future. Really Gaddafi is decades overdue.
5. If your best friends are dictators, the signs look bad. Palling around with other known dictators isn’t just in poor taste, it shows to your “subjects” that you root for the bad guys, which includes yourself. Try to not be retarded, if possible.
Thank you for hanging on with me, and reading this today.
I’m sorry it’s bizarre. Too many sad things all at once I suppose.
-Lisa
How to Think Better in 97 seconds
Critically thinking is something we don’t do enough. Thinking better, and making better decisions has everything to do with thinking more clearly and critically. A bad argument (aka poor logic) shouldn’t fool us, or convince us. Chances are you’re getting kicked around more than you think.
(This is supplemental material for my worldviews class.)
Listen to any radio, talk show, or news program after you understand the following logic issues, and you spot one logical fallacy after another. Now you’ll have the knowledge base to disarm flawed rationalizations and weak assertions.
So, use the next 97 seconds and pick some fallacies that appeal to you. Then, share something new you learned. Or, visit soon, and tell us the first fallacy you’ve spotted.