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Showing posts from September, 2009

And you all thought I was, um, not normal

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I was reading an article from MIT about beatless artificial hearts that, by design, are more durable, more compact, and more efficient than the current crop of artificial hearts. They do hold some promise for the future, but more long-term experimentation needs to be done to assess their utility. Well, I have taken to reading comments on articles as they are usually pretty entertaining. True to form, I came across this little gem: "I've done thought experiments of pulseless blood-flow using nanobots, and utilizing their swarm nature -- swimming like a school of fish carrying blood with them; of course these devices don't exist yet, but give it about 15 years." Either this guy is few feathers short of a comfy pillow or he is merely (in this case) a misunderstood genius. Now, I can admit to never having a thought experiment of this nature, but there have been plenty of quizzical looks shot my way on the ones I have had and I am not entirely thrilled over them. So, who w

No undershirt required

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I have been known to always wear an undershirt with my dress shirts. There are a lot of reasons for this: I sweat a lot and the undershirt catches all of that persperationy goodness. I have a tan face, tan neck and white chest. I have no hair on my chest and I am not a competitive swimmer. I get cold in my midsection quite easily. Well, for various reasons, I am not wearing an undershirt today and I don't like it one bit. It is a different sensation for sure as I am used to the undershirt fabric against my skin, but I have had to deal with the fabric of the shirt today. All day. And my midsection has been a touch too cold for my liking. Thankfully I haven't sweat a lot (either nervously or as a result of being too hot) so that has been good. No one has commented, to my face anyway, of the blinding white light bouncing off of the exposed portion of my chest either. Overall I would rate this no undershirt experience to be about a 6 out of 10. In other words, it is all right in a

Too wide a distribution

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The most significant things that are happening in my life I simply cannot blog about. By choice, the blog that I have started has too wide of a distribution to be useful to me to write about what is truly happening all of the time. I will, gladly, bare my soul to people but when the struggle involves my soul in light of someone else's, well, that gets a little too dicey to broadcast. I had an opportunity to be a deacon at our former church (Sodus Bible Baptist) and it was very intimidating and satisfying at the same time. As a deacon I knew more than anyone else about what was happening with the church. That was tough because there were things happening that I did not want to know about. It was even tougher when I had to examine the situations in the light of the Scriptures and offer Bible-based counsel. Sometimes it was straightforward ("Have they Matthew 18'd it yet?") and other times it felt like there was a veil of gray over the whole answer or approach. What made

All of my friends

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Thanks needs to be given to God for the friends that I have that were once my fiercest enemies. These friends, namely death, suffering, and conflict, have been thoroughly redeemed by Him to such a degree that they serve the exact opposite purpose of the intention of their introduction. Death's sting (my sin) has been removed and it now delivers me into the full presence of God. Suffering's fangs of discouragement and bitterness have been blunted and now it is the megaphone that shouts His goodness to the world and magnifies that gift of faith that He has given me. Conflict is at the heart of the Gospel of peace (who could have made that happen other than Him?) and reveals the sin in my life as He produces Christ-likeness in me giving me an unparalleled opportunity to bring my pursuit of holiness into a laser-sharp focus. I am getting dizzy thinking about it all. He has turned this sin-soaked world upside down. He has turned my all too often heart of stone into an instrument of

I am probably too obsessed with this...

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I know I am probably too obsessed with this, but referring to the church as a building makes me want to dig my heart out of my chest with a spoon. I always try to say that I was "with the church" on a Sunday rather than "at church" because, obviously, the church isn't a place: it is a living body made up of people. Taking this one step further, I refer to the main place where we gather in the church's building (or meeting house) as the auditorium. I know this is not a perfect word but it sounds a lot better than "really big room" and is more theologically correct than sanctuary. I am God's sanctuary like every other blood-bought believer and no room, in an of itself, is. Well, I also have a hard time with calling the auditorium or building a "worship center". I know that this is not quite the same as calling it a sanctuary, but to me it sets the building apart a bit more than it needs to be and confers on it something that it has no b

The end of myself

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Last night I was facing a daunting task. Thankfully I wasn't alone in this as I had plenty of support, but it is funny how I think that I am on the "Just Mark..." show at times. Well, on my way home from work, I was feeling a bit sick to my stomach over the whole thing. I was absolutely at the end of myself - there was way too much that was out of my control and I didn't like it. It was then that I had to give it up. I talked to God and I may have even called Him out a bit. I knew that this was His gig but I needed Him to know that. Of course He did know that but it brought me comfort to let Him know that He needed to know that. I would like to say the nausea went away at that instant, but it didn't. So I let Him know again that He was the show and I begged Him to show up. I think I even had to do it again. Well, I was able to wolf down dinner before the task last night so it was obvious that the nausea went away, but I still wasn't sure what I would find when

Synth-driven accompaniment

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Maybe it is because my oldest son is in third grade (which is when I started playing the clarinet) but I have been thinking a lot about the time that I played and how much of my young life I devoted to it. Building on my previous post I also got to thinking about the differences that this new era of technology has brought on and how I could have enhanced all of those recitals that I took part in as I progressed from the third through the eighth grade. I would like to think that I would have the ability to program some nice synth-bass that could enhance the music (or lack thereof) that proceeded from my instrument. It is also quite possible that I could even reproduce the piano or other accompanying instruments as my clarinet carried the tune of the lyrics that were sung. Of course, electronic-generated anything is extremely unforgiving if there is a flub or two from the human that would be playing over top of it, but I would like to think that I could have carried it off. It is probabl

Joe Jackson, our church's name change, and the internet

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I was twelve years old when the best pop song ever recorded, Steppin' Out by Joe Jackson, was released. It was at that point that I would begin my affinity for Jackson and his music and, not coincidentally, I was elbow-deep in my "career" as a clarinetist. In the Fall and Spring the music students at St. Charles would give a recital that we needed to prepare for quite vigorously. I remember those evenings well as we would start with the youngest students and progress our way up to the oldest, most experienced, students in the room. It was a weird feeling when the person next to me got up and did their thing signaling that I was on deck. I tried to get into the zone and deliver the best performance I could. These recitals would often be precipitated by a trip to the music store to score some good music (usually a popular piece) that would pass muster with our music teacher. Sometimes you got to do something great and, sometimes, it was rejected. I usually scored. I was sea

Direct dosing with Flourish Excel

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It has been well documented that dropping some Flourish Excel (from Seachem) will cause the algae that so often inhabits the leaves of anubias plants to retreat and, eventually, die off. I have consistently dosed by Java Fern and anubias coffeefolia this way for a while with some pretty decent results. Well, since all of the anacharis that I had put in the tank, um, tanked, I decided to try this method again on my anubias coffeefolia, minima, and lanceolata as they were all showing signs of algae infestation. True to form the coffeefolia did well but the minima and lanceolata fared very poorly. I don't think I overdid the dosing but all of the leaves that received the heaviest doses of the Excel have now either died or are in the process of dying. I am not exactly sure why that is the case, but I am going to try to corroborate my experiences with others across cyberspace to see if this is a unique thing or if it is something I should have researched before attempting it. Another on

Hope

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I just can't shake it. Nothing captures my attention and imagination like hope. I am not sure why this is. My disposition, overall, is more towards hope than anything else. I am a positive person (most days, I have my moments) and I have a God that gives legs to my hope. I would like to think that if I did not have a relationship with Him that I would be a tad less hopeful than I am. I have had my share of disappointments with people, experiences, and objects that would have soured my outlook by now. It is just nonsensical to place my hope in things that change, people who are frail, or that which is out of my control. But, squaring my hope on One who is always out for my good makes perfect sense to me. That allows me to be the prisoner of hope that I am. His truthfulness, strength, and faithfulness even allows me the opportunity to translate my hope into a certainty...no matter how much that makes my head hurt. I guess that means that I love Him. And I do. But He needs to teach me

I am coming out

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For those of you who thought what I think you thought when reading the headline, well, we'll talk later. No, I am coming out of the closet as a hot dog lover. I know that at the ripe old age of 39 I am supposed to have outgrown the taste for hot dogs, but I can't help it. To my shame (and to many people's dismay) I will choose to eat a hot dog over a perfectly cooked cheeseburger any day of the week. I am especially fond of the Zweigle's white hot dogs but the red hot dogs will fit the bill as well. I put way too much ketchup on mine and often reapply the ketchup if I happen to run out and there is either leftover hot dog or left over bun to be eaten. I have read (and continue to read) about all of the supposed grossness that goes into making hot dogs and about the shortening of my life by "x amount of years" due to the consumption of them, but I would rather die with my stomach full of hot dogs than the best and brightest cheeseburger. I doubt that any non-ho

Some things are better left unsaid

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With apologies to Hall and Oates, it is true that some things are better left unsaid. But, frustratingly, that isn't even close to the standard I should have for my life. I got to thinking about this a little and have found that there is quite a bit that is operating here that I need to get a handle on: Something happens to me - I can't control this I react to the situation - I can control some of this...maybe most of this but not all of it. I judge the situation - I can control this. There is a desire - I can control this - the desire is born out of my judgment of the situation. So, if I think the situation is unfair, for example, that will raise in me a certain desire. It is not the same all of the time, but the desire is still there. There is an action - I can control this - either I do something or I don't do anything. Either way it seems to me that there is some type of action that is based on at least some of my reaction to the situation. OK, this may need a bit

Out under the stars

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I love Canadian high pressure systems. Of course they have a tendency to suck all of the warm air out into the vacuum of space, but they also create cool, snap-clear nights that are perfect for stargazing. The boys and I headed over to my sister's and brother-in-law's house last night and set up the scope to look at, primarily, the moon and Jupiter. I think the boys got a charge out of it, but I am under no illusions that this experience has made them into budding astronomers of the amateur or professional type. This is especially true since Drew mentioned that he thought the night would be "super fun" but only turned out to be "a little fun". I followed up with the comment that it was probably a little different than he expected and he said that was definitely the case. At any rate, they are interested in going out with me again to see what we can see. It was great just to be with them and do this. I know that, even though these days of hanging out with Dad