This poem was written before we moved into a much simpler life here in Bakersfield, CA. It was inspired by an all too common occurrence in our overcrowded harried lives when we lived in the big city. The "serpent" reference is significant because the devil is described as the great deceiver.
Traffic
Hollow faces turn their passionless gaze
Toward the crowded horizon…
Long ago, a liars voice beckoned and somewhere someone responded, the
rest herded after.
Generations following this path have cut a groove into our humanity.
we all spill into it, pressing upon
each other, competing for progress toward prosperity,
all energy of resistance to the voice
dissipated.
Sheer momentum has taken over.
No one questions the migration of this mob,
each assuming his place in the endless line,
each child of the scientific age mechanically clinging to his place, only
questioning relative position and not the destination.
It does not feel the sublime, this serpentine demigod.
Its poisonous breath stifles sensation.
It assimilates individuality, expanding its mass through augmentation.
It grows while the people shrink.
It converts the autonomous into automation.
Each looks to the other only for help in their movements toward
The unnamed, unknown and unworthy goal.
No one pauses.
No one thinks.
Individuality is swallowed up
as vermin before The Serpent…
But the traffic grows.
May, 2006
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Traffic
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
En Memoriam
A common refrain at funerals is that the grieved will "live on in our memories." For an atheist, this must be the only sense in which a person can live on. But is it true? This poem suggests that if we do not live on in reality, we do not live on at all.
En Memoriam
She slips from my grasp,
her image slowly
enveloped in darkness,
distorted by distance,
fading into the fathoms
of sinking separation.
She will not live
En Memoriam.
Her vibrant individuality
will also succumb to the strength of the abyss.
All our efforts to keep her alive in mind are futile,
for her image too will be subsumed into the vanishing depths
of human forgetfulness.
March, 2007
She slips from my grasp,
her image slowly
enveloped in darkness,
distorted by distance,
fading into the fathoms
of sinking separation.
She will not live
En Memoriam.
Her vibrant individuality
will also succumb to the strength of the abyss.
All our efforts to keep her alive in mind are futile,
for her image too will be subsumed into the vanishing depths
of human forgetfulness.
March, 2007
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
A Vision
Here is a poem written during the days after our daughters were born 13 weeks prematurely. At the time, the question of their survival was very much an open question. I wrote this to express my personal struggle with the fragility and scarcity of the good in this dangerous world.
A Vision
Stumbling toward the empty horizon over vast
tracks of scorched and bitter earth,
I could faintly see a single rose ascending
boldly among acres of twisted thorns.
Vain ambition
and futile hope
compelled me to press through
the dense forest of cruel thorns;
to approach the solitary remains of the good.
Drawn powerfully onward by the
the irresistible call of fragile fading beauty,
that I might
with extinguishing eyes behold,
and with trembling hands embrace,
the single glory,
the single justification,
for all my sublime suffering.
Pressing on,
thorns ripping my flesh,
blood mingling with the parched earth,
so that in the instant my sinful blood met
the thirsty sand,
out sprung new, more vigorous vines,
entangling me motionless in the piercing truth.
At last, and from a distance,
imprisoned within myself,
all vain energy and vain hope
dissipated,
It was mine
merely to
catch the diluted fragrance of that solitary rose
as it wafted by on a vanishing breeze,
and then to expire.
May, 2008
Stumbling toward the empty horizon over vast
tracks of scorched and bitter earth,
I could faintly see a single rose ascending
boldly among acres of twisted thorns.
Vain ambition
and futile hope
compelled me to press through
the dense forest of cruel thorns;
to approach the solitary remains of the good.
Drawn powerfully onward by the
the irresistible call of fragile fading beauty,
that I might
with extinguishing eyes behold,
and with trembling hands embrace,
the single glory,
the single justification,
for all my sublime suffering.
Pressing on,
thorns ripping my flesh,
blood mingling with the parched earth,
so that in the instant my sinful blood met
the thirsty sand,
out sprung new, more vigorous vines,
entangling me motionless in the piercing truth.
At last, and from a distance,
imprisoned within myself,
all vain energy and vain hope
dissipated,
It was mine
merely to
catch the diluted fragrance of that solitary rose
as it wafted by on a vanishing breeze,
and then to expire.
May, 2008
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
God's Not Dead; A Review
Christianity is producing a gaggle of critics and very few creative people. That is not a shocking statement. After all, the same can be said of everyone else in American society.
I've heard several of my friends criticize this movie, and I suppose I see the validity of some of their points. But where are the better expressions of Christian creativity? It is not like these critics are producing alternatives. Perhaps we have to go back to Lewis or even Beethoven before we can find truly great Christian artists?
But I want to praise this movie. There is much good in it, at least as I see it. I wouldn't be enough of an expert in film making to critique it in any way that would elicit the respect of anyone, but I can say what I liked about it.
For one, I liked the effort to show, on a popular level, that Christianity has a mind and not just a heart. Perhaps the arguments were not presented with the precision or depth of a trained philosopher like Plantinga, but then again the lead character was a young man who took the challenge to defend the Christian faith seriously and did his level best. And he presented the arguments of several thoughtful Christians while engaging some admittedly isolated comments of various atheists. The point is that, while the arguments he gave were not first tier Christian arguments, neither were they bottom tier. I especially liked the reference to John Lennox!
I also liked the humanity it portrayed. Perhaps the vignettes that are presented in the film were contrived or unnecessary at times, but they did present some real world problems, such as differing religious beliefs in families and in other relationships, as well as the problem of evil in our experience. It demonstrated the struggles of Christians over the sovereign will of God and why he says "no" to our prayers.
But my favorite aspect of the film was the sense of a shared community Christian identity. Today Christians are too fond of critiquing everything, of saying no to everything, and, as a result, they have lost the ability to say yes to anything. We are much clearer on what we hate than on what we belong to. It is so hopelessly uncool to say yes, to accept the affirmations of others, to accept one's place in something that one had nothing to do with creating or defining.
When I was a boy, I spent a lot of time at my church, literally at the church building. The reason was that my parents were deeply connected to the church community. They were involved in various bible studies and social gatherings as well as the choir. This kept me there for many hours during the week. It was my social interaction, my culture, my community. Where is that kind of Christian community identity today? Where have all the potlucks gone? Where are the choirs that involve more than five talented showmen to run the worship of a church? Where are the sunday school classes? Where are the church picnics? Why is it so easy to be a spectator Christian? Why are we even encouraged to be spectator Christians (so long as we tithe)?
This film shows Christians involved in activities together, doing life together, and yes, going to a Christian concert together. If this doesn't count as the right kind of cultural Christianity, then what does? Where is the Christian culture that is cool enough for our young men and women to join it? I can assure you that the modern secularized Christian, who does life essentially the same way as anyone else, even does life with his unbelieving friends, and then goes to church one hour in the 168 per week is not providing any semblance of Christian culture or community. He may go on and on about how weak Christian art is, but what are his contributions to the culture of Christ? How is he cooperatively building into the City of God? If he is doing nothing, I would prefer he just shut up!
I've heard several of my friends criticize this movie, and I suppose I see the validity of some of their points. But where are the better expressions of Christian creativity? It is not like these critics are producing alternatives. Perhaps we have to go back to Lewis or even Beethoven before we can find truly great Christian artists?
But I want to praise this movie. There is much good in it, at least as I see it. I wouldn't be enough of an expert in film making to critique it in any way that would elicit the respect of anyone, but I can say what I liked about it.
For one, I liked the effort to show, on a popular level, that Christianity has a mind and not just a heart. Perhaps the arguments were not presented with the precision or depth of a trained philosopher like Plantinga, but then again the lead character was a young man who took the challenge to defend the Christian faith seriously and did his level best. And he presented the arguments of several thoughtful Christians while engaging some admittedly isolated comments of various atheists. The point is that, while the arguments he gave were not first tier Christian arguments, neither were they bottom tier. I especially liked the reference to John Lennox!
I also liked the humanity it portrayed. Perhaps the vignettes that are presented in the film were contrived or unnecessary at times, but they did present some real world problems, such as differing religious beliefs in families and in other relationships, as well as the problem of evil in our experience. It demonstrated the struggles of Christians over the sovereign will of God and why he says "no" to our prayers.
But my favorite aspect of the film was the sense of a shared community Christian identity. Today Christians are too fond of critiquing everything, of saying no to everything, and, as a result, they have lost the ability to say yes to anything. We are much clearer on what we hate than on what we belong to. It is so hopelessly uncool to say yes, to accept the affirmations of others, to accept one's place in something that one had nothing to do with creating or defining.
When I was a boy, I spent a lot of time at my church, literally at the church building. The reason was that my parents were deeply connected to the church community. They were involved in various bible studies and social gatherings as well as the choir. This kept me there for many hours during the week. It was my social interaction, my culture, my community. Where is that kind of Christian community identity today? Where have all the potlucks gone? Where are the choirs that involve more than five talented showmen to run the worship of a church? Where are the sunday school classes? Where are the church picnics? Why is it so easy to be a spectator Christian? Why are we even encouraged to be spectator Christians (so long as we tithe)?
This film shows Christians involved in activities together, doing life together, and yes, going to a Christian concert together. If this doesn't count as the right kind of cultural Christianity, then what does? Where is the Christian culture that is cool enough for our young men and women to join it? I can assure you that the modern secularized Christian, who does life essentially the same way as anyone else, even does life with his unbelieving friends, and then goes to church one hour in the 168 per week is not providing any semblance of Christian culture or community. He may go on and on about how weak Christian art is, but what are his contributions to the culture of Christ? How is he cooperatively building into the City of God? If he is doing nothing, I would prefer he just shut up!
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Go Crusaders! Is That Offensive? Oh, Uh, Go Sea Lions!
It is amazing how many people are accused of racism today. You are a racist if you criticize Obama. You are a racist if you would never move your family to urban Detroit. You are a racist if you criticize rap music. You are a racist if you think that perhaps gay marriage is a bad idea. You are a racist if you wonder if you might be paying enough in taxes. You are a racist if you happen to like the name of the team that plays in Washington.
I have referred to it as "political hypochondria," because we live in a society that seems to love its offenses. The fascinating thing in all of it is that there is very little calm discussion of the issues. Instead, there are emotional eruptions of offense at ever turn. The only people that cannot be offended are the Christians. They have enjoyed privilege for too long. They frankly deserve to be made fun of for sport without consequence by the whole of post-Christian society. So suffer in silence, Mr. Tebow. You don't count as a victim. Michael Sam does! Tebow is creepy, but Sam is brave! Boo Tebow, hail Sam!
Let me say that I think we should be respectful and loving towards all people; that all human beings deserve respect for being made in the image of God. In a purely atheistic universe, racism would be par for the meaningless course. If some animal group could exploit another for advantage, it is not like the mindless, purposeless universe is going to care. Evolution is indifferent to racism and probably even encourages it through the process of the emergent consuming the inferior.
Now I realize that there is some merit to many of the ideas circulating about Obama, Michael Sam, the Redskins, disenfranchisement, poverty, prison rates and the like. But I also would like to explore two questions I have concerning the renaissance of this charge of racism:
First, what exactly counts as racism today? C.S. Lewis once said that if we were not careful, various essential terms would come to lose their meaning. I think this has happened with words like "homophobia" and "Christian" and "racist." I was taught that a racist is someone who hates other people merely by virtue of their race or origin. Hating blacks because they are black would be a clear example of racism. But today we have people interested in broadening the meaning of the term. You are racist not merely because you hate blacks, but because you speak in ways that offend certain black people, perhaps 30 - 52% of them. Some blacks are even offended by "black" as a term of reference. So I've already offended many and therefore clearly I am a racist.
Or even speaking about another race without much knowledge of them or interest in them is offensive. The idea here is that people of different races cannot in principle understand the turmoils of other groups, and thus even speaking of them and their troubles is offensive. This is a phenomenon that philosopher Francis Beckwith has termed "hard multiculturalism."
Or what if you are not sorry enough for the crimes that your ancestors committed against blacks or Native Americans? (Of course this can work in infinite regress here, since everyone's group was at one time or another mistreated by some other group.) And by sorry enough, what I mean here is penance in the form of bottomless monetary compensations. Of course I'm a racist for even writing such a sentence, but is Thomas Sowell equally racist for saying the same thing of black entitlements? It certainly is possible to be a racist against one's own race, but can one really be so dismissive of Sowell!
Or what if you think it is a moral failure of the black community that the fatherless rate is so high among them? Is it simply a fact that since I'm not black, I don't get to make such a comment, because, again, I cannot even in principle understand black culture? And if that is the case, then why on earth should I ever even care to speak to a black person, since it will never lead to understanding? If morality doesn't bind us, what on earth does?
Or what if you think the fundamental tenets of Islam as a religion are destructive to human beings?
Or what if you happen to think that Christianity is correct as a matter of fact, and for all cultures? No, not American Christianity, whatever that even means, but Christianity!
Or what if you think it is within the realm of possibility that whites and evangelical Protestants could be discriminated against?
Racism! All of it is racism! One guy even said he knew "white" I said such things, because he was clever.
Today, if you operate outside the enlightened language codes provided for us by our intellectual parents, then you are a racist.
Nevermind that you might be a loving human being who grants the benefit of the doubt to any other human being, regardless of skin color or socio-economic background.
Nevermind that you are a truly color blind executive who hires only the best qualified person for a needed position in your organization.
Nevermind that you find every human being you meet interesting and attempt to draw them out by asking good questions and listening well.
Nevermind that you judge someone not by race or bank account, but by their character and the content of their ideas.
Nevermind that you give liberally to disadvantaged groups of all kinds.
All of that may be true, but if you cheer for the "Redskins," or criticize Obama or question entitlements, then you are clearly a racist.
And now my second question: Who gets to be offended to the point of changing our vocabulary?
Perhaps the best example of this matter for me is the Redskins controversy.
One side says the term can never be dignified and has always been a demeaning racial slur. The other side says that it can be used in a complimentary sense, as it was originally by some Native Americans and as it is presently used by some of them today.
So one side asks, "should I have the right to tell the offended that they should not be offended," and the other side replies, "should you have the right to tell the unoffended that they should be offended?"
Recently I was told that the title "homosexual" is now offensive. Then how shall I refer to those with same-sex interests? Well, just don't call them "homosexuals!" Perhaps I should start referring to "bisexuals" as "polyamorous," at least until that becomes offensive.
How are words determined to be offensive? The word "Christian" was originally an insult directed against the "little Christs" running about in the Roman empire. It was a term of derision, as if to mock them by suggesting that they were merely parrots of some other human being. But the Christians accepted it and turned it around, making it a term that accurately described their allegiance to Christ as Lord.
Ole Miss is called the Rebels, and surely many high schools in the south refer to themselves as the "Rebels," but I am left to wonder at how many find such a term to be offensive. Surely there are many offended at it, but then why is the name not changed? Most people in the south are probably now able to tease out the good connotations and the bad connotations of the term "Rebel." At what percentage of offense should Ole Miss change its name?
Christian schools call themselves the "Crusaders." Can you imagine being a Muslim student at a public school playing against the "Crusaders?" But again, Christian schools call themselves Crusaders, not because the Crusaders behaved atrociously to Muslims and Jews, but because there is still enough connotative good to the term to preserve it, even though some colleges and schools have jettisoned the name. Point Loma Nazarene changed their name from the Crusaders to the Sea Lions (and not the sea mammal, but something like Aslan coming out of the sea... I know... hilarious). But they are far less racist now for having done it.
My only point here is really just a philosophical one: Who gets to suggest that connotations have shifted and a term is now no longer acceptable to use? This is simply an epistemological question. Who bears such authority? If five people are offended at Crusaders, should I change it, when 500 love it?
As Christians we are told to exercise our Christian freedom in a way that is loving towards others who may be more sensitive to various issues than we are. Paul used the example of meat sacrificed to idols. And surely what he had in mind was something like a dinner where some Christian asserts his freedom without showing any grace to his brother or sister. Of course he was thinking of this on a small scale, among people of a similar epistemological grounding (The Church). But even on the larger cultural scale, I really don't want to offend other people. But I think we all have to admit that offending others is awfully easy to do in this culture.
I have referred to it as "political hypochondria," because we live in a society that seems to love its offenses. The fascinating thing in all of it is that there is very little calm discussion of the issues. Instead, there are emotional eruptions of offense at ever turn. The only people that cannot be offended are the Christians. They have enjoyed privilege for too long. They frankly deserve to be made fun of for sport without consequence by the whole of post-Christian society. So suffer in silence, Mr. Tebow. You don't count as a victim. Michael Sam does! Tebow is creepy, but Sam is brave! Boo Tebow, hail Sam!
Let me say that I think we should be respectful and loving towards all people; that all human beings deserve respect for being made in the image of God. In a purely atheistic universe, racism would be par for the meaningless course. If some animal group could exploit another for advantage, it is not like the mindless, purposeless universe is going to care. Evolution is indifferent to racism and probably even encourages it through the process of the emergent consuming the inferior.
Now I realize that there is some merit to many of the ideas circulating about Obama, Michael Sam, the Redskins, disenfranchisement, poverty, prison rates and the like. But I also would like to explore two questions I have concerning the renaissance of this charge of racism:
First, what exactly counts as racism today? C.S. Lewis once said that if we were not careful, various essential terms would come to lose their meaning. I think this has happened with words like "homophobia" and "Christian" and "racist." I was taught that a racist is someone who hates other people merely by virtue of their race or origin. Hating blacks because they are black would be a clear example of racism. But today we have people interested in broadening the meaning of the term. You are racist not merely because you hate blacks, but because you speak in ways that offend certain black people, perhaps 30 - 52% of them. Some blacks are even offended by "black" as a term of reference. So I've already offended many and therefore clearly I am a racist.
Or even speaking about another race without much knowledge of them or interest in them is offensive. The idea here is that people of different races cannot in principle understand the turmoils of other groups, and thus even speaking of them and their troubles is offensive. This is a phenomenon that philosopher Francis Beckwith has termed "hard multiculturalism."
Or what if you are not sorry enough for the crimes that your ancestors committed against blacks or Native Americans? (Of course this can work in infinite regress here, since everyone's group was at one time or another mistreated by some other group.) And by sorry enough, what I mean here is penance in the form of bottomless monetary compensations. Of course I'm a racist for even writing such a sentence, but is Thomas Sowell equally racist for saying the same thing of black entitlements? It certainly is possible to be a racist against one's own race, but can one really be so dismissive of Sowell!
Or what if you think it is a moral failure of the black community that the fatherless rate is so high among them? Is it simply a fact that since I'm not black, I don't get to make such a comment, because, again, I cannot even in principle understand black culture? And if that is the case, then why on earth should I ever even care to speak to a black person, since it will never lead to understanding? If morality doesn't bind us, what on earth does?
Or what if you think the fundamental tenets of Islam as a religion are destructive to human beings?
Or what if you happen to think that Christianity is correct as a matter of fact, and for all cultures? No, not American Christianity, whatever that even means, but Christianity!
Or what if you think it is within the realm of possibility that whites and evangelical Protestants could be discriminated against?
Racism! All of it is racism! One guy even said he knew "white" I said such things, because he was clever.
Today, if you operate outside the enlightened language codes provided for us by our intellectual parents, then you are a racist.
Nevermind that you might be a loving human being who grants the benefit of the doubt to any other human being, regardless of skin color or socio-economic background.
Nevermind that you are a truly color blind executive who hires only the best qualified person for a needed position in your organization.
Nevermind that you find every human being you meet interesting and attempt to draw them out by asking good questions and listening well.
Nevermind that you judge someone not by race or bank account, but by their character and the content of their ideas.
Nevermind that you give liberally to disadvantaged groups of all kinds.
All of that may be true, but if you cheer for the "Redskins," or criticize Obama or question entitlements, then you are clearly a racist.
And now my second question: Who gets to be offended to the point of changing our vocabulary?
Perhaps the best example of this matter for me is the Redskins controversy.
One side says the term can never be dignified and has always been a demeaning racial slur. The other side says that it can be used in a complimentary sense, as it was originally by some Native Americans and as it is presently used by some of them today.
So one side asks, "should I have the right to tell the offended that they should not be offended," and the other side replies, "should you have the right to tell the unoffended that they should be offended?"
Recently I was told that the title "homosexual" is now offensive. Then how shall I refer to those with same-sex interests? Well, just don't call them "homosexuals!" Perhaps I should start referring to "bisexuals" as "polyamorous," at least until that becomes offensive.
How are words determined to be offensive? The word "Christian" was originally an insult directed against the "little Christs" running about in the Roman empire. It was a term of derision, as if to mock them by suggesting that they were merely parrots of some other human being. But the Christians accepted it and turned it around, making it a term that accurately described their allegiance to Christ as Lord.
Ole Miss is called the Rebels, and surely many high schools in the south refer to themselves as the "Rebels," but I am left to wonder at how many find such a term to be offensive. Surely there are many offended at it, but then why is the name not changed? Most people in the south are probably now able to tease out the good connotations and the bad connotations of the term "Rebel." At what percentage of offense should Ole Miss change its name?
Christian schools call themselves the "Crusaders." Can you imagine being a Muslim student at a public school playing against the "Crusaders?" But again, Christian schools call themselves Crusaders, not because the Crusaders behaved atrociously to Muslims and Jews, but because there is still enough connotative good to the term to preserve it, even though some colleges and schools have jettisoned the name. Point Loma Nazarene changed their name from the Crusaders to the Sea Lions (and not the sea mammal, but something like Aslan coming out of the sea... I know... hilarious). But they are far less racist now for having done it.
My only point here is really just a philosophical one: Who gets to suggest that connotations have shifted and a term is now no longer acceptable to use? This is simply an epistemological question. Who bears such authority? If five people are offended at Crusaders, should I change it, when 500 love it?
As Christians we are told to exercise our Christian freedom in a way that is loving towards others who may be more sensitive to various issues than we are. Paul used the example of meat sacrificed to idols. And surely what he had in mind was something like a dinner where some Christian asserts his freedom without showing any grace to his brother or sister. Of course he was thinking of this on a small scale, among people of a similar epistemological grounding (The Church). But even on the larger cultural scale, I really don't want to offend other people. But I think we all have to admit that offending others is awfully easy to do in this culture.
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Depression
depression comes,
when hope blurs opaque,
and you wake up from your dreams
to
an unrelenting ache.
for some depression
becomes their genius, their muse--
until history shows, like with
Poe, that
she does nothing but abuse.
still I listen to her
in the morning when the rain
descends,
unable to resist her melancholy
song, nor ascend again.
do I take comfort?
knowing that not long after the
storm
the earth erupts in fertile
majesty,
and beauty is reborn.
perhaps I am mystified
by this world of futile
contrasts--
another cycle of joy and pain,
neither of which will last.
1997
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Bryce Canyon National Park
Your first glimpse of what you are about to see comes on highway 12 through southern Utah. There you meet two striated massive walls of burnt orange rock (the boundary of what is known as "Red Canyon"), and everything beyond it seems to be the surface of Mars. I can't decide which brings out the richness of the evergreen trees more by contrast, Crater Lake's brilliant blue or this prism of rust and orange and pink and white earth.
It seems impossible to surpass the beauty of Red Canyon, but shortly thereafter you enter Bryce Canyon. I must confess I had the Grand Canyon in mind, and I was utterly blown away by how different, and how much more complex and brilliant Bryce Canyon is in comparison to The Grand Canyon. It is not a single canyon so much as it is a dazzling labyrinth of color and shadow and caverns and water and light.
The almost instant reaction on reaching the rim, from all three of my little girls, was "Woooow!" I've never heard them react that way to a TV show or a movie. The shows God puts on are far more impacting. Then they turned their eyes to a trail and insisted that we go on a hike. I know they have been apprehensive about difficult hikes, so I pressed them a bit to be sure, and Charity led the charge down the side of the canyon. We had a couple of falls due to loose gravel, but all told they handled themselves admirably. They got dirty, cried a little after a fall, got up, dusted off and charged forward into the adventure of descending into that flowering garden of stone.
 |
| First view of the canyon |
 |
| Always ready for an adventure |
 |
| Looking out to the east |
 |
| We climbed into the opening mini canyon |
 |
| My great hiking companions |
 |
| Add caption |
 |
| We descended deep into the canyon... awesome! |
 |
| The open space between the walls at the bottom |
 |
| They each fell at least once, but were ready to pose at the end |
 |
| Thor's Hammer |
 |
| The view looking up is amazing |
In these years, I'm more interested in poetry, satire, and creative essays, as a means of communicating years of pondering things.
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