Home again

Call the beast spoiled, but a 36k connection speed from a "dataport" on the side of a hotel phone is nearly useless these days. Not to mention the hotel surcharge. And the beast doesn't travel enough on company business to be issued a wireless card for his notebook PC.

So no blogging at all by the beast from Chicago (actually Lombard, IL) this week, but just as well. The beast's eyes are just plain sore from a week of PowerPoint presentations and writing toy programs. But now I have a cheesy certificate to hang in my office.

Despite the crash of a Navy F-18 at RDU yesterday, my return flight arrived on-schedule, just after midnight. Tack on the 75-mile drive back to the house, and it was nearly 2am before the beast was home. Today must be a family day, the precious little beastie and I have some catching up to do. Tonight there may be time to catch up with fellow bloggers. Doubtless Richard Clarke was the chief topic of discussion.

Second City bound

Light blogging activity from the beast until Sunday, as he prepares for a six-day business trip to suburban Chicago to attend a software training class. The beast is always in need of training.

On the beast's last trip to Chicago (July 2003) he checked out a great world-music performance at The Hot House, including an electrifying performance by DuOud. The other acts were awesome, but I can't recall who they were at the moment. Looks like a light schedule this time around, though. No worries, the beast is certain there's great music to be found there during his stay.

Open the doors and see all the people

Great post over at The Bemusement Park about what it means to be dressed for church.

You can tell when they move their lips

Check out the new MoveOn.org video. Hummina hummina hummina.

Cheney tinfoil hat alert

From the NY Times: Cheney Praises Bush in War on Terrorism

''Had the decision belonged to Senator Kerry, Saddam Hussein would still be in power today in Iraq. In fact, Saddam Hussein would almost certainly still be in control of Kuwait,'' Cheney said in a speech at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library.

In fact?

Had April Glaspie, as directed by then President George H.W. Bush's Sec. of State James Baker, not given Saddam Hussein the implied green light to invade Kuwait in 1990, not only would Hussein not ever have been in control of Kuwait, Sen. Kerry wouldn't have had to vote against the resolution to liberate the country six months later. In fact, the US wouldn't have needed to billet US troops in Saudi Arabia, and thus not radicalize Arabs into joining al Qaeda. And must we explore yet again the question of whether or not Gulf War coalition forces should have ousted Hussein, thus rendering unnecessary Operation Iraqi Freedom?

UPDATE: Minor editions to improve readability.

While busy making other plans

Part three of a recap of the beast's weekend. Parts one and two below.

Last Saturday afternoon the beast finally attended a $5 matinee of The Gospel According to Mad Max, aka The Passion, with his pastor and fifteen members of his congregation at the local multiplex. Ms. Beast chose not to attend because of the movie's emphasis on the ultraviolence. The theater was nearly full, with only a few seats down front still unclaimed by the time the lights were turned out. It appeared that other church groups were also attending this screening. The conversation level in the theater was fairly hushed for such a large number of people. There were some children in the audience, but the youngest the beast spotted appeared to be pre-adolescent.

So much about this movie has already been expressed elsewhere. But the sad truth remains is that it is too violent to be of much use to anyone. The numbingly brutal, blow-by-blow chronology of the Crucifixion annihilated the eternal message of Christ's ministry, which was given short shrift in the movie. The tacked-on Resurrection scene at the film's end was disgraceful to someone taught to believe more in Easter Sunday than in Good Friday. I found myself in complete agreement with Andrew Sullivan when he called the movie "pure pornography". The whole experience was reduced to the collective struggle of an audience to watch violent images projected on a large screen in a dark room. I sat next to a female parishoner, a mother, who began crying once the Romans started getting medieval on Christ's ass. She was in such an anguished state by the end of the movie that I wanted to touch her shoulder in reassurance, but finally decided not to intrude on her experience of the film. Because I spent the movie in anticipation of watching violence, watching violence, or recovering from watching violence, there were only fleeting opportunities to appreciate the artistic aspects of the film.

Since the movie dialog is in Aramaic and Latin with subtitles, there are no "money" quotes of the "Go ahead, make my day" sort. But the beast managed one moment of ironic detachment when, on the way to Golgotha, Simon of Cyrene lifts the cross and says to Jesus (according to the subtitles): "It's almost over. We're nearly there." The beast wonders what would have happened if he had shouted out from his seat: "THANK GOD!"

The sole preview shown prior to the movie was for another movie starring Jim Caviezel, evidently about the redemptive effects of speedboat racing on a small town struggling to survive. The beast wonders whether there would have been more to gain spiritually by waiting to watch that movie instead.

You can tell when they move their lips

From the NY Times: Powell Reassures India on Technology Jobs

Reassures India? Since Bush clearly isn't man enough to say it himself, make the Secretary of State cast the loss of domestic jobs as a foreign policy issue instead.

Responding to a questioner in a session with students who asked if he supported or opposed outsourcing, Mr. Powell said: "Outsourcing is a natural effect of the global economic system and the rise of the Internet and broadband communications. You're not going to eliminate outsourcing; but, at the same time, when you outsource jobs it becomes a political issue in anybody's country."

In other words, I understand the question, but I'm not going to answer it, because I might be quoted. How could anyone have thought this man was trustworthy?

Mr. Powell told the students what he had said to reporters earlier in the day after a meeting with Foreign Minister Yaswant Sinha: an appropriate American response to outsourcing was to press India to open up to imports of American investments, goods and services.

So, the Administration's strategy is let hi-tech jobs go overseas to entice India to open its markets to make it easier for even more US jobs to go there. Heaven forbid if this country were led by an administration which actually gave a damn about ordinary working-class Americans. Or is that protectionism?

He said one purpose of his trip was to explain to India that because outsourcing had created a political problem in the United States, India could help by lowering its trade barriers. He said he was making that request, not as a condition for the United States allowing outsourcing to continue, but because it was in India's interest to be more open.

In other words, all those unemployed "political problems" just might vote for Kerry, those ungrateful bastards.

In February, Gregory Mankiw, chairman of the White House Council of Economic Advisers, stirred a political outcry when he called the outsourcing of jobs a long-term "plus" for the economy. While Mr. Powell said Tuesday that "it is the reality of 21st century economics that these kinds of dislocations will take place," he was quick to add that the Bush administration would work to train people for new jobs.

All together now: You want fries with that?

In Washington, the White House endorsed Mr. Powell's comments.

"The secretary made clear in his remarks that we are concerned when Americans lose jobs, and we are focused on creating jobs for American workers, and the best way to do that is to open markets around the world, including in India," said Claire Buchan, a spokeswoman for the White House.

In other words, the Administration's not going to do a damn thing about saving your job if it can be outsourced. God bless our mortgaged future.

Maybe, just maybe, the beast likes being a programmer. I'm pretty good at it, if I may say so. Is there something wrong with that? Do I have to relocate to Bangalore to continue my career? I hear drug-resistant tuberculosis is all the rage over there nowadays.

Time for the beast to drop the facade. I'm voting for my family's future. I'm voting .

While busy making other plans

Part Two.

On Sunday afternoon the beast's family went bowling. We were joined by a former colleague of Ms. Beast's and her daughter, who's either one or two years older than our precious beastie.

As mentioned in a previous post, the beast is a wretched bowler. But he did take the pointers from Ms. Beast and BrotherBeast to heart. In the third and final game, he reached the 150 plateau, for the first time ever. Maybe he should quit while he's at the top of his game.

While busy making other plans

It was a busy weekend for the beast, compared with the norm. Here's the first installment:

On Saturday the beast felled two 35-foot oak trees in the front yard, which stood alongside the driveway leading to the house. One was located at the end of the driveway at the street, opposite another oak. Both had been damaged by the December 2002 ice storm which struck the Old North State, but the one I cut down was the worse of the two. It had lost the top ten feet or so from the weight of the ice and snapped, but did not fall completely down, and posed a safety issue for us and for passing pedestrians. The other oak lost several feet off the top, but not enough to worry about.

The other oak tree the beast cut down stood next to the cars in a row of seven trees, including one holly, two more oaks, and three 60-foot-plus loblolly pines. This tree didn't pose a threat, but was cut down as part of reducing the overall number of trees in the yard. The new total is 61, and the beast would like to get it down to between 50 and 55.

For the beast, cutting down a tree with a chain saw involves a deliberate ritual. First there's the task of determining the best direction to drop the tree based on its location in relationship to the house and surrounding trees. Next, there's the preparation of the chain saw. Mine's a three-year-old gasoline-powered Craftsman with an 18" bar. I wouldn't try to drop the 80-foot loblolly pines in my yard with it, but it has paid for itself several times over thinning out the sweet gums and smaller trees in the back yard. I adjust the chain tension, and top off the chain lubricant and fuel levels. Then I start and warm-up the chain saw. If everything's in order, I shut it off until I'm ready to use it. Last fall when I tried to start the saw, the recoil spring jammed. After beating up my fingers trying to rewind and install the spring that morning I learned that it's worth the $10 to watch a pro do it in five minutes instead.

If there's any doubt about where the tree will land (and there usually is), the beast brings out a large plastic pail containing a very long (approx. 80 foot) heavy-duty chain and a ratchet hoist. He wraps one end, which has a hook, around the tree and secures it about seven feet from the ground. The beast then carries the pail, allowing the chain to spill out as he walks, over to a tree in the vicinity of the drop point, wraps it around the base, and secures it with set of double hooks. The beast then attaches the hoist, fastening the chassis end to the chain at the base of the second tree, and the lifting hook to the chain stretched between the trees. Then the beast moves the arm of hoist back and forth to tighten the assembly just enough without causing it to pinch the bar of the chain saw when the notch cut is made.

I've reached the point of no return. Whatever I do from this point on is irrevocable. At this point the beast takes one last look at the tree. The beast has a lot of respect for trees, even sweet gums and Japanese sumacs. Trees possess some sort of spirit, and cutting one down is not something the beast takes lightly. The way the beast looks at it, trees never just die. They are always killed: by weather, drought, fire, blight, insects, or people. So I acknowledge the life of the tree and say a quick prayer. Then it's cutting time. First, the notch cut facing the direction the tree should fall. If the chain and hoist are being used, the beast turns off the saw and tightens the chain with the hoist as much as possible. Then the felling cut above and opposite the notch. Then the exhilaration of watching the tree crash with a mighty WHUMP! followed by the barking of every dog in the neighborhood.

Of course, dropping the tree is only half the job. The other half is trimming off the branches, cutting the trunk into segments, and hauling the timber back to the woodpile. It's quite a bit of exercise, and the beast is relieved when it's all done.

Friday Mudcat Blog

2003 Southern League Champions
Home Opener: April 16th at 7:15pm vs. Birmingham Barons
Five County Stadium, Zebulon

Yeah, they may be affiliated with the Florida Marlins, who beat the beast's beloved pinstipers last October, but I root for them all the same.

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

Via Gesprächsfetzen:



A truly enjoyable lunchtime-at-my-desk diversion, even if I'm not much of a Dylan fan.

[UPDATE: Go to the production_destruction main page, and check out the other fonts, like a rendering of President Bush in Times New Roman to Led Zeppelin: o/~ Lying, cheating, hurting, that's all you seem to do...Your time is gonna come... o/~]

Support your local blogger

Via blogosfear the beast has just learned that tommorow is Weblog Appreciation Day!

Morgen ist der Tag der Tage, morgen könnt ihr endlich mal den Bloggern den Respekt zollen, den sie verdienen. Schickt Kuchen, E-Cards, Geld, verlinkt, Schmückt Euer Blog mit Bildern vom Idol, zeigt allen, wen ihr gerne lest!

Translation:

Tomorrow is the day of days, tomorrow you can finally for once pay bloggers the respect they earn. Send cake, e-cards, cash, links. Decorate your blog with pictures of the idol, showing everyone whom you like reading!

Should the beast post his Amazon wish list?

But it's our national pastime, so it's OK

From National Public Radio: McCain Decries Steroids in Sports

Here's Donald Fehr's argument before a Senate committee yesterday, against random drug testing of Major League baseball players without evidence of wrongdoing:

The testing of an individual, not because of anything he or she is suspected to have done by anyone, but merely because he or she is a member of a particular class, is simply at odds with fundamental principles of which we in this country have rightly been proud.

How well do you think that argument would work at a DWI checkpoint? Blow here, sir.

Colors

The beast is kinda grumpy tonight, after having a stressful afternoon defending a database re-design proposal to his senior colleagues. Time for a nightcap, and some rest.

Before I sign off, I really must say that I can't stand the terms liberal and conservative anymore. Their meanings have been reduced to Capulet and Montague, Shark and Jet, Hatfield and McCoy. Enemies with no common ground, and increasingly defined in terms of the other.

Trashing the Old North State

From the Raleigh News-Observer: N.C.'s trash troubles pile up

This article cites a report released Monday that "North Carolinians threw away more than 10.2 million tons of trash in the year that ended in June. That comes to 1.23 tons for every person in the state, a 14 percent increase since 1991." The beast's family, who are Nash County residents, threw away only 1.16 tons of trash per capita during the same period, probably 'cause a rural country like ours has more burn piles. Simple math would indicate that the beast's family of three discarded an average of 133 lbs. of trash weekly. Take it from the one who takes out the trash: not so. Or is it?

First, there's the trash cans in the house (kitchen, 3 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, 2 in the office), and the cat litter. And there's extra trash during Christmas. The city provides unlimited loose leaf collection during the months of November, December and March. The beast's 0.33-acre lot has upwards of forty trees [UPDATE: this morning I counted 63 trees] which generate a huge amount of pine straw, fallen leaves and branches. I'm not sure if such waste is included in the totals, but let's assume it is. The beast does use a mulching mower instead of bagging lawn clippings for collection.

So far, so good. But it's not just the trash I took out to the curb at home. Our office recycles, but the beast had to provide his own blue paper-recycling basket to make it convenient to do so. But what about the styrofoam coffee, soft-drink, and Lunch-o-Noodles cups? The beast sometimes uses a coffee mug, but not often enough. Take it even further: there's the pile of obsolete computers and peripherals we hope Good Will takes off our hands when Ms. Beast stops by next week, there's the packaging from the fast-food eaten in the car, and the four old tires changed from the Volvo last year. There's the trash generated by the restaurants in preparing the food where the beast's family dines out, the non-recyclable packaging used to ship and display the products the beast's family purchased, and the medical waste from doctor's and dentist's visits. Add in whatever trash Ms. Beast and the precious little beastie create at the office and school respectively. Not to mention the arrival later this year of the second precious beastie, and all those disposable diapers.

This report doesn't appear to include information about recycling. What does happen to the beast's recyclables? For his part, the beast recycles virtually all newspapers, cans, bottles, motor oil, and plastic possible. Admittedly he should go the extra mile and include opened envelopes and junk mail. Our city's guidelines for what can be included for recycling are pretty vague, unlike say what the folks in Cary must do. One observation: the transplants in my neighborhood are practically the only families who separate recyclables.

It probably doesn't add up to 6,960 lbs. but it's still a lot. And there's room for improvement.

The struggle to be Republican

A Complete Bunch of Pants throws a pity party because of an editorial she read in today's Durham Herald-Sun.

What's your major? Uh, Repression

From the NYTimes: College for the Home-Schooled Is Shaping Leaders for the Right

Tomorrow's evangelical fascists are getting their uh, education at Patrick Henry College in Purcellville, Virginia. Supported in large part by Dr. James Leininger, a backer of Christian conservative candidates to Texas' school board, and one of the state's largest political contributors, the name of the patriot famously known for saying "Give me Liberty, or give me death!" is now sadly associated with an institution striving to enlist home-schooled children towards the aim of promulgating the fundamentalist conservative social agenda.

"Jim has been a very good and very faithful friend to the college," said Jack W. Haye, chairman of its board and a Texas executive of the Wells Fargo Bank. Other trustees include Janet Ashcroft, wife of Attorney General John Ashcroft.

Let's find out who's the headmaster of this esteemed institution:

When President Bush signed legislation last fall banning the procedure it calls partial-birth abortion, Michael Farris, the founder of the Home School Legal Defense Association and the president of Patrick Henry, was one of just five prominent Christian conservatives invited to the Oval Office for the occasion.

[edit]

The Home School Legal Defense Association, which now counts 81,000 families each paying about $100 a year in dues, was founded in 1983 by Mr. Farris, a lawyer who had been a protégé of Tim LaHaye, the conservative Christian political organizer and best-selling author. Mr. Farris and his wife home-schooled their own 10 children. Like Mr. LaHaye, Mr. Farris is a novelist. He has written three legal thrillers involving conservative Christian issues. His latest, "Forbid Them Not," begins with a Democratic landslide in the 2004 elections that leads to a nightmare of laws blocking parents from spanking their children, teaching their children fundamental Christianity or schooling them at home.

[edit]

Patrick Henry College is the centerpiece of an effort to extend the home-schooling movement's influence beyond education to a broad range of conservative Christian issues like opposition to abortion, same-sex marriage and obscenity in the media. The legal defense association, located on the Patrick Henry campus, established the college as a forward base camp in the culture war, with the stated goal of training home-schooled Christian men and women "who will lead our nation and shape our culture with timeless biblical values."

Hmmm...a college headed by a hateful, fear-mongering author, and backed by wealthy fundamentalist patrons and zealots. The beast suspects that the "timeless biblical values" being taught at Patrick Henry are very selective and self-serving.

For the record, the beast doesn't object to home-schooling in principle, even though he has yet to meet any parents who home-school their children for apolitical, areligious, or non-racial reasons. In short, because the parents actually want their children to learn to both think for themselves and learn to cope with the diversity of American culture.

The very fact that fundamentalists are this driven to force their Weltanschauung onto others by such a long-term strategy should be enough for any reasonable person to oppose and resist their efforts. When the beast uses the phrase "evangelical fascists" to describe such a movement, it is not hyperbole. To call them the demon spawn of Reagan Youth would be over the top. For now, anyway.

A word of caution to moderate Republicans: your Nacht der langen Messer is coming. Or is that fear-mongering too?

Hey ottist, paint this

[Special credit if anyone knows the reference]
The beast enjoys landscape photography, and from time to time will undertake what he calls photo safaris. Inspired by Lisa's (A Complete Bunch of Pants) work at A Gallery of Pants, the beast has posted his own gallery of favorite photos of the local landscape. There's a link to the gallery just above the blogroll. The site itself is nothing fancy at the moment, but it's got thumbnails and sequential linking.

There are so many to choose from

There are so many to choose from

Go out and celebrate

The beast works for a large foodservice distributor. Yesterday afternoon several stacks of full-size, spiral-bound 2004 Daily Planners were left in the the employee break room. The beast supposes they were originally given out to customers and vendors, and we peons were getting the leftovers. The planners provide a two-page, month-at-a-time calendar view, with lots of industry-specific information throughout. For example, did you know (or care) that March is National Frozen Food Month, National Nutrition Month, National Sauce Month, National Noodle Month, and National Peanut Month?

Friday Cat Blog

Courtesy of the precious little beastie.

Blogger's Block

Nichts Neues from the beast of late. I found lots of good stuff to read in the blogroll Tuesday, but nothing I can really add to at the moment.

In all honesty, however, the beast is feeling a bit let down by the reality of Sen. Edwards' suspension of his candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination yesterday. The fun part of the election cycle is over, Sharpton's one-liners excepted, and the beast regards the slog of the coming general election campaign with strong distaste. The beast's attitude about Edwards had improved considerably in the past six months. As an Old North State resident, I initially resented what appeared to me to be Edwards' neglect of his constituency during his long campaign. It seemed that his 1998 Senate election was merely a launching pad for higher aspirations.

Both Edwards' "Two Americas" stump speech and his eschewal of negative campaigning began to resonate with the beast. I was beginning to hope that he would somehow continue to generate momentum and finally string together some primary victories. But in the end this strategy just prolonged his campaign beyond realistic expectations.

To borrow a metaphor from President Eisenhower, Sen. Kerry is presidential timber. But style cannot be disregarded, and he sure could use some coaching in the speech modulation and motivational departments. His "Comeback Kerry" and "Super Tuesday" victory speeches were dreadful to listen to, though not nearly as bad as any of Bush's utterances. I don't know if Kerry has a hobby, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to let the public see him having some fun, without appearing undignified.

UPDATE: After reading Musing's musing's trackback post, I realize I may be causing some confusion in referring to Eisenhower's "timber" metaphor. He used it to criticize Richard Nixon's fitness for the presidency (I don't recall whether it was in '52 or '56, will fact-check later today, and get the quote), and not to suggest a stiff or aloof demeanor. My apologies for not being clear about that.

Another roadside attraction

Glad I don't worship there. The beast does have to drive past this sign by the office where he works. And yes, it was just beginning to rain.

There are so many outrageous messages on signs in front of churches near the beast's home, that he supposes he could post photos like this on a regular basis.

(Update: The more I look at this photo, the more painful the irony.)

Roadside attractions

Today the beast intends to visit as many sites on his blogroll as possible, and leave comments where appropriate. For the beast, the best part about blogging is not having his own cyber-soapbox, but being able to listen and learn from others on theirs. Thanks in advance to everyone I visit.

The book is better than the movie

Actually, the beast won't find out for himself until one week from Saturday, when he plans to see the Gospel According to Mad Max with his pastor. According to a not completely reliable colleague of mine, our local cinema has sold out every showing since its release last Wednesday, and tickets must be purchased well in advance. Mencken didn't call this part of the world the Bible Belt for nothing.

The beast has been getting ready for this blessed event by reading other interpretations of Jesus's ministry:

Jerusalem was a very volatile place thirty years ago. It was clear to everyone that there would soon be a Jewish rebellion against Roman rule. It was also pretty clear that the Romans would win hands down, barring divine intervention. This was when Jesus entered history, preaching the usual Reform Rabbi line; then when He finally came to Jerusalem, that was the signal for the Zionists to overthrow the Romans and their allies, the collaborating self-loving Jews of the Temple, specifically those on the banking side of that organization with its twenty thousand employees.

At the head of an army of rebellion, Jesus occupied the Temple. He drove the economists and arbitragers out, and then He lowered the prime rate. With that one move, He sealed his fate.

Pontius Pilate had been a topnotch economist with the central Roman bank before his appointment as governor of Palestine. In effect, he was kicked upstairs by the anti-inflationists who had taken over the Roman Treasury under Tiberius, a notorious believer in high interest rates in order to maintain a low inflation rate even at the risk of a certain degree of unemployment in the nonslave sector. Pontius Pilate was a full-employment supply-side economist, like Jesus. Privately, Pilate applauded Jesus's monetary policy, and he was perfectly willing to set him up as King of the Jews, like Herod before Him, but always under Roman rule.

Now, James was one of the arbitragers driven from the Temple and so he was opposed to the inflationary policies of his populist brother. Yet James had a vision, too, based on the messiah myth which will never die in Jewish circles. James was obliged to follow his brother in all things. James also thought that once Jesus and Pilate had struck a deal, James would be able to edge the prime rate up, since Jesus would be too busy arranging for the Day of Judgment and the establishment of the Jewish State as the first in the world in order to make it easier for God to wind up the whole show.

As it turned out, the treasury in Rome ordered Pilate to eliminate Jesus and bring the Temple banking system back into line under the governor's direct control even if that meant occupying the Temple precinct itself, something that could not be done without civil war. So Pontius Pilate, very sadly, crucified the first low-interest rate monetarist that the Jews had produced since Jesus's ancestor King David, also an easy-money freak.

Naturally, we do not teach the real cause for the Crucifixion but only the cover story. In actual life, Jesus was indeed the Jewish king, who had threatened the rule of Rome as well as that of the Temple rabbinate, whose bank controlled monetary policy not only of the Middle East but that of Greece and Egypt as well. "If Jerusalem eats a bad oyster, Alexandria vomits" was a financial joke of the period.

Now, of course, the Temple is a ruin, thanks to the Zionist attack on the Roman garrison, an intifada that lasted from 66 to 70 A.D. When it was over, there was no more hope of a Jewish state or even, for most Jews, any sign that one of the two dozen messiahs charging about the countryside might turn out to be the real thing. Only Christian goyim really believed that we had been visited by the real thing, and that He would soon return.

Gore Vidal
Live From Golgotha (excerpt)

The search for meaning

A confessional post.

The beast has never had much success with keeping journals of any sort: be it personal diaries, guitar practice journals, or professional task logs. The impulse to start a journal would come from the realization that there was a benefit in writing down my experiences: to structure my work, spot patterns, measure progress, and catalog ideas. So after a promising start, the entries would gradually become less detailed, and more perfunctory, until some event would completely cause me to stop. I would justify my actions with the excuse that it was more effective to just do more with the available time than to spend some of that time writing about what I had done. My efforts at blogging may well become another example of this pattern of the beast's behavior.

The greater issue was two-fold. On one level the beast was frustrated trying to translate his experience into words. Not all experience is worth writing down, so what do I write down? And what am I really experiencing, anyway? At this stage in the beast's life, nearly all of what beast does is part of some routine, some recurring pattern of events. Each instance of the pattern is unique, but what makes each instance unique doesn't necessarily make it particularly meaningful. Some patterns carry a high level of obligation, like those involving parenting, my marriage, or job. It also seems that the less variation a given routine has, the less likely I'm able to respond well to a sudden change in that pattern. So, on the one hand the beast wants his daily existence to be less mundane, and on the other he has become complacent.

What the beast was really lacking though was a certain self-confidence that he had found his purpose and was fulfilling his unique destiny. The beast was turning out to be a jack-of-all-trades, competent in many skills but not excellent in them. Having a mediocre ability to write down one's personal mediocrity didn't seem to be worth the trouble.

The beast has often used the season of Lent as an opportunity to practice making personal commitments over a period of time. Such efforts, the beast believed, would increase his ability to take on larger and more significant commitments. It was important for the beast to find the right commitment to make, something that would test the beast's resolve but in the long run be possible to complete. This normally meant giving up some pleasure like tobacco, alcohol, caffeine or desserts. Or it might be a commitment to a routine, like practicing guitar for a minimum amount of time for so many days each week. This year for Lent, rather than give something up, or do things differently, I am trying to get something back. To call it self-confidence doesn't seem to fit. It has something to do with clarity, or getting back on track. I don't think I need to put a label on what it is yet. But I do think I need to write it down as I go. As always, I will strive to make the read worth your time.