The 10 day writing challenge was a challenge I proposed to myself and a friend. The idea is to write something, anything, each day for 10 days The goal: be amusing and practice writing, and possibly overcome some blocks.
Note that these are certainly not meant to be good, or particularly coherent. Simply what came to mind. Not good, but potentially interesting.
The friend declined, but I did it anyway. It was fun and amusing. Perhaps I will do it again.
Hop hop hop oh hopper, said the man. Hop hop hop. The hopper relied why: should I hop oh man? Hop for you are a hopper, observed the man. Who are you, oh man, to tell me to hop when you don’t fear God?
A man sat on a coconut on a small desert island and sang to himself. Of what did he sing? Surely he does not know of anything to sing?
He sang of the sparkling sea and the cool shade of trees. He’s sang of the hardness of rocks and the golden sand. Of the cool deeps and the gleaming shores. Of schools of darting fishes and flocks of chattering finches. Of the sun’s life giving heat and the reprieve of the moon’s gentle glow. Of beasts and storms. Of fruit and flowers. Oh the songs that he sang.
Oh fly on the wall, do you see me work? Or do you see me slack? Or do you only see the crumbs I let fall?
So what is a memory access violation? Imagine someone asked to you give Gorge in room 303 of the hotel this thing. So in you went asked the cleric where room 303 is: third floor on the right. Up you go. You find it and knock. There is an answer "come in". You open the door and are about to step in when you stop. There is nothing there. Just empty space plummeting down to nowhere. As a person you find this odd. Return to the cleric and inform them that room 303 is missing and inform the person who sent you that Gorge may be in room 303, but is not in the hotel on account of the room being missing. On the other hand, if you are a computer, and encounter the afore mentioned room you panic and bring the whole thing to a stand still with a "Room" access violation exception. Or SIGSEV!
(Forgive me being a little esoteric)
Once upon a time there was a famous judge. He was very rich, indeed he owned most of the country. He gained his wealth through hard work. This meant that he was also rather wise as he had seen nearly everything before. Moreover he was responsible for much of the development of that society. As such his wealth made him impossible to bribe and his position in society made him impossible to threaten.
This judge began searching for a worthy advocate. The judge promised to make such an advocate his heir and co-owner of all he had. But, much to his dismay, the judge had found no worthy advocate. Everyone was more or less selfish. Most had taken bribes. Many lied. None worked for the good of those they defended, only toward their own ends.
In that country there was a particularly nasty advocate. He delighted in the destruction of others. One day he decided that what he would really like to do is wound that worthy judge. So the nasty advocate found three children that the judge loved and began to deceive them.
Stubborn the evil advocate convinced that drink was the ultimate good. Stubborn initially drank only a little, but slowly his body built up resilience and, faster, he Stubborn grew bored of only being tipsy. So he drank more. Stubborn drank more and more, taking out increasing loans to keep the beautiful liquid flowing.
Next that wicked advocate targeted Doubtful. To Doubtful he showed "substances of transcendence". Her first kick pushed her into what she thought wee other realms. Then she crashed. In her support the bad advocate pushed on her the next smoke. Up she went. Into the ethereal plane. Oh how boring life was in that country without transcendence, but oh how expensive it is to attain! So Doubtful borrowed money in huge amounts to chase that elusive realm.
Last that evil advocate targeted Broken. To Broken he showed the pleasures of sex. Broken’s first partner was wonderful, and they stayed together for some time. But the breakup was calamitous. With the prompting of that devious advocate Broken soon found another partner to comfort and satisfy him. But that did not last. So Broken found another and another, until all his relationships where mere instants. Desperately he paid "professionals" to satisfy him and lavished expensive gifts on others to get them to stay. Needless to say his debt was soon enormous.
With this work done the evil advocate dragged these three into court and accused them before the judge. Each could earn about 300 denarius a year but each had a debt of about 50’000 denarius - the amount earned in 150 years; a completely unpayable amount.
The evil advocate mocked the judge, knowing the judge loved these three. The advocate took the name accuser and accused the judge. He accused the judge of injustice if he did not condemn the three children to bitter slavery to pay back their debts.
What was the judge to do? Injustice he could not do, yet he loved these three and would not see them sold into bitter slavery.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continued in [ch:Judge_Accuser_Advocate].
Sally the snake slithered up the stairs. She swirled around the table leg and slid along the surface. She slowed to a stop in the soft sunlight. In the sun she soaked with satisfaction.
But take care not to wake her lest
Her flat body forms full with fear, she flares her cape and her fangs flick out facing her foe in fright and fury.
On the butterfly, fiction.
One in my youth I decided to bake a cake. I wanted a glorious cake, that tingled on the tongue. So I used all my limited knowledge of how the world worked. It should be moist so in went two eggs, without the shell (look how cleaver I am). It should be fluffy to in went sifted flour. It should probably have butter, so in went a block of that. It should tingle on the tongue, so in went some black powder. I was not sure how to cook it apart from putting it into the over. So on went the oven right to "hotish" and in went the batter. I reckoned that I would watch it carefully to see when it was done. So watch I did.
That was the first time I saw a butter fly. Boom went the mixture out came the butter! Splat went the batter. Later mom came home and asked me why there was a block of butter in the ceiling. I sagely told her that it was the butterfly resting.
Have you ever seen a butterfly flutter by and wondered why, it is not called a flutterfly?
Alas I did not manage to get this far. While this is a fun activity it is arduous and could easily create more blocks than it fixes.
This time Jon S. agreed to join me.
Uponatimetheresatalonelyman
Lonelyhewasformostmenflowaway
Constrainedtowalkwithtimetheymovealong
whilehewouldsituponthetimeandwatch
Andthoughhesawsomuchitallwasstill.
Throwmeawrinkle,I’lltradeforaslime
Lookatthisdisparity,betweenyourpredictionandmine.
Lifeisapattern,myworksimplyproves
YetitisinmyinferencethatImakemyproudestmoves.
Thestarshavenopattern,frommypointofview.
Flowersonthevine.Simplynaturalto-do.
List.
Allthecorrelationsofnon-relationstomyconceptofeven.
IfIdon’tseemypattern...
Thenwe’llmesswithyours.
Potterytakingpotteryclassesyetworkingonlywithdust.
Grainsofsandstandinginsandcastlesagainsttheperpetualwavesofrighteousness.
Thosecastlesareblessed.
Asweallwastetime.
TryingtomodelthemakershandwhileexcludingHiswater,excludingHiswine.
Today,today!
Thatendlesstime.Therelentlessdawningandendlessevening.
Forsomeaburdenandsomeajoy,
andustowritethetale.
VoidExploration
Wecanwriteinfinityonmortalmortar.
Splitsecondbeams
Ofnoisetothecosmos
Createloftyceilings
"Definite"goals
Definetessellationtotile
Makeourpeace-
mealcontribution
Toourtowers
Likeemptycornucopias
RestingonHistable
Copiouscontributionofvessels
TheystandhollowandemptywithoutHisbread.
An adventure to the AutoRepairs This has been moved to [ch:AdventureToTheAutoRepairs].
Tellmeifthisminutebelongstothenext.
Doesproxyspeakabetterword?
Doesthepassageoftimeprovideusapathtostep?
Fromsynergiesofsyntax
Inourmortaltongue
Oursplitsecondsagas
Failtodrawnear
totheInfallibleFirst.
The deathly coils rise from the fog at my feat. Coiling up my legs deadening the skin. It gets to my mouth and I scream, but no sound comes and the fog is not disturbed. It rises to my eyes even as I open them wide to see the light, but no light comes it is all dull, all deadening grey. I reach out my hand to touch but there is no sense the world is distant. I pound my fist into the wall and hear the muffled sound but, oh joy, pain shoots through. A Sense, A Touch of reality! But too fast it is gone. I apply the blade the fog recoils from the pain there it is, the world, an objective. But the fog soon drowns it out coiling round the keen edge making it just another blur... Every thought is distant, every sight of ash, every word drowned in grey and every loving touch a mere swirl in the mist. What then? Shall I die? It is naught! Shall I live it is even less! Where shall I go? How shall I flee? Where is the real? Where is the light?
But then it comes the bright bursting sun. Its solid rays penetrate the cloud and part the mist, as it grows the fog burns away. My mind is consumed and all is cleansed. In the blinding light I see not myself but another. In the dazzling glare all colour returns. Life is there and feeling and sound. My vivacious hands stretch out to serve and my mouth speaks words to build and glorious praise in joy.
TheInverseSea.
Thebreezegatheredthesuntoday.
Gatheredtumblingenergyonitsway
Justlikeatthesea,
immersedwerewe.
Yetaswavesarecoldandblue;
thiswaswarmandsee-through.
Asthewatersrushfromtheicydeep
Herewarmthrolledfrommountainpeaks
Aflushedpresenceprevalent
Likeamassivehand
Thewindpushedinland
anditpushedthedeep,
Andpushedonme,
immersion
inaninversesea
Asillyacrostic.
Acatsatonthemat.
Betweenthedoorandthewideworld.
Castinghereyesyondertodistantlands.
Examiningthehorizonthroughthe
Filigreeofthestoop,toknowthe
Gloriousapproachofthenight,thetimeofthe
Hunt.
Intentonhergazingshedidnotnoticebut
Jumpedatthesuddenapproachofthe
Knightinhisarmour
Leadinghisfaithfulsteedbackformtheir
Missionfortheking.
NormallytheCatwouldlookwithscornonthe
Oppressionofsuchananimal,butthebeast’s
Prestigestoopedhercriticism.
Quiteagainstherwillshefoundherself
Rebellingagainstherintrinsic
Superiorityandwishingto
Travailinsomepurposeof
Ultimatesignificance:
Valiantandbrave.
Withthismindsherousedherself,
Xanthousandsleek,
Youthfulandvivaciousshesetforthinthe
Zenithofpurposetoridthehouseofvermin!
She’salwaysChrist’sbride.(ReadtothetuneofShe’sAlwaysa
WomanbyBillyJoel.)
Thechurchcanbringlifewithasmile;healwoundswiththeWord
IncreaseyourfaithwithHisshockingrealtruth
WeshouldonlyrevealthatChristhasredeemed
Theyhavefaithlikeachildbutthey’realwaysabridetoHim
TheycanshowyouHislove,Hewillalwaysforgivethem
TheycanaskfortheTruthandalwaysbelieveHim
Andgenerosity’stheirstrength,asHeoffersitfree
Oh,HetakescareofHisbride,shewaitsforhisheaven
He’saheadoftheirtime
hthey’llalwaysgiveoutandnevergivein
Hejustrenewstheirmind
HepromisestoallthegardenofEden
Ashelovinglycutthecurtainwhilebleeding
AsHediedasthebestfortheworsthumanbe-ing
BlameitallonyourselfbutHe’sgivenmylifenewmeaning.
Hmmmhmmmhmmmhmhmhmhmmmmm.
Oh,HetakescareofHisbride,shewaitsforhisheaven
He’saheadoftheirtime
Ohthey’llalwaysgiveoutandnevergivein
Hechangestheirminds
Heisconstantlykindandthey’reconstantlyschooled
TheydoasHepleases,they’renotanymorefooled
Theyhavebeenconvicted,they’vegotHisfreebie
TheChurchissocool,Icannotbefooled
It’salwaysChrist’sbridetobe.
Hmmmhmmmhmmmhmhmhmhmmmmm.
YeahHisloveisasteal
asHeoffersitfreely
He’saheadiftheirtime
So we were taught a model of Biblical understanding or overview (there are several models) called CSER. Creation, Sin, Excise, Restoration. This is a helpful model as it helps us understand the overall story.
Now my bit: (I’ve been meaning to write this up, but its not poetic or a story so feels a bit awkward for this context, oh well) The question was asked where then do we fit in? We are in exile but also restored but not yet? I proposed that the nature of our exile changes when we are saved. We are no longer exiled from God and at home in the world. Rather we look forward to a home and are strangers in the world. On further reflection there seems to be another repeated pattern in the Bible, I’m not sure how far it goes though. There is the Call then the Strangeness then powerful Rescue then Fullness/Glory . If CSER is clearly shown by Babylon then CSRF is shown by the exodus. CSER is humanity’s sin in Adam, exile from the garden and salvation in Jesus. CSRF is Jesus coming dying, raising. CSER is Isreal rebelling and leaving the land and being restored. CSRF is the followers of God’s persecution in Israel then Babylon and return. So both are true of each of us. CSRF, I I suppose, exists between the E and R of CSER, with overlapping R. We were Created, Sinned and were Excluded from God, Called (saved) live as Strangers now and will/were Rescued and await Fullness.
Thank you Duncan. Hey I just want to say thank you for your involvement of others in abstract Christ centred discussions. You make me think of a fantastically shaped Dyson’s sphere in progress and seeing what paths in engineering Christ opens you to and understanding the amount of thought you put into it is amazing and I praise God for it. Just always remember that the gaps in your understanding and clear communication of the structures you’ve built around Him is where Christ shines the strongest like a sun through an incomplete Dyson’s sphere.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:8-13 (NIV)
Wishing to fully know Christ and spreading that is a clear example of His love, not fully possible in this life but the striving and non-religious/non mainstream approach you take is apparent and valuable.
Started 2019-01-01
Once upon a time there was a frog, a gentleman croaking to the night: mhoup, mhoup, mhoup... Too most it was an unloving, even unbearable sound, it relentless droning punctuating an otherwise deliciously still spring evening. But not to all, for there was, upon that same time, a gentlewoman frog. To her it was a completely different sound. A call from a strong man, the deep resonance that requires an expanded throat. A strength of resolve to continue the relentless call long into the evening. Alluring, enticing, enthralling. She came under the spell and hop by hop drew near to the fountain of croaks. Then a moment of bliss and a scattering of seeds for the future. Soon this jelly blobs would wriggle, then swim, then climb then begin their own choir and dance in the cool of the night.
Part of truth is being frank with oneself and so with others. Being clear in how you wish to communicate to the extent where it can be apparent compared to people dealing with hazy words. I appreciate someone who says a good or terrible phrase confidently more than a person who says a good or terrible phrase with room to escape if the audience doesn’t like it. There is a beauty in truth both in good and evil exposed. Truth is I would be a culturally moral (or even morally flexible) nihilist if I did not know Jesus Christ and was truthful with myself. We should never lie to ourselves or God for there is no actual beneficial need or use and we should keep watch on ourselves foremost before we fool ourselves for we cannot fool God. And that’s the truth.
Of hell. This has been moved to [ch:Of_Hell].
OhFelicity,
Ifiredthemaid-ofthestuffofmen
Becausewhyallthis
main-pretenseoffalsefestival
Wearewhatwe’retold.
Alwaysboughtbysomeoneelse’sgold.
Intrinsically,inheritors.
Yetthiscostlycircuscontinues.
Oh-pinionedtoourglitzysurroundings.
Likeaknifethrower’spartner,
onariggedwheeloffortune.
Whenwillitstop?
Andthestakeland?
Drinkingtemporarylifetoitsdregs
Payingthepriceforthesakeofourlively-
Hoods.
Stepuptotheblock,headintheclouds
Tightrope,withyourfeetofftheground
Stopthecarousel.
Solidgroundfaith
Theonlyrideyoudon’thavetopayfor.
DowntoEarthwiththeGroundKeeper
HeldbytheGravityofLove
Thefrigidityofthisworld,
Ioncewastold,
Issuchafragileexistence.
Pricelesscentsofsense,
tangibletypography,
Weneedatasteofspacetopunctuateourworld
Oncethesunrisestomorrow
againandagain
It’llbeproved
Wecannot
Wecannotrelyonphysicalconsistency
Tillwesavourthesaviourseternalglow.
Inthefullnessofperpetualparadise.
Thefrigidityofthisworld,
Ioncedidfeel
Outnearspacewheretheraysofsunescape
Wheretheiceisthickandthewaterwhite.
Thefrigidityofthisworld
Ioncedidfeel
Outnearpeoplewheretheraysofhopeescape
Wheretheprideisthickandthewelcomingslow.
Ohthefrigidityofthisworld
Withoutthesavioursglow.
We did not get to this one.