A Song for Year's End

Shivers and Siding

The past few weeks David and I have been working on a siding job in Oakhurst. We're installing housewrap, trim, and cement siding on a house that was previously sided with T111 plywood. In spite of the short days and bitter cold, the job is coming along well.

Staging tools and materials. All the trim gets primed before it's installed; the siding is shipped already primed.

Siding the large garage wall with scaffolding. To do the peak, we stacked up all three sections plus the guardrail. The view from this place is fantastic, and at the top of the scaffolding it's even better.

The garage wall before and after. The horizontal lines soften the vertical impact of the structure and make it look more like a "house."

One more after shot. We're now working on North side of the house - around the garage to the right. It's a bit cold back there; there was ice on the decks all day today. But I can't complain. After all, it is December.

A Promise and a Prayer

Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?” I said to him, “Sir, you know.” And he said to me,

“These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore they are before the throne of God,
and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.

For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Revelation 7:13-17

Basic Blogging Tips and Tricks

I've been blogging for some time now, and I've discovered a few simple tools, techniques, and tricks that have made my life as a blogger (and blog reader) much easier. I've realized that a substantial number of my readers are only marginally tech-savvy, so I think some of this information may be helpful.

The first and most important item is probably Google Reader. Unless you use live bookmarks, a good RSS reader is imperative. What an RSS reader does, very simply, is monitor your favorite blogs and notify you when there is new content. No more wasting time checking blogs manually for new posts: with Google Reader, it's all delivered instantaneously to your doorstep. In addition, it's easy to add new blogs, keep track of your favorite posts, and share stuff with your friends. Try it out - the learning curve is negligible, and you'll thank me later.

[For more information, check out Garrett's excellent video and article about Google Reader.]

As regards blogging itself, there are a number of hacks I use to streamline the experience for myself and my readers.

When adding web pictures to blogs, always save the picture to your computer first, then upload it into blogger's system. This way, you never get into hosting issues. (Also, it's wise to upload your picture(s) early-on, before adding formatting to your post. Sometimes, adding a picture will inexplicably erase your formatting.) Another trick for pictures: there's a web-based image editor I use called Picnik that allows you to do quick edits without fussing with a slow, cumbersome application. Super handy.

You may have noticed, especially if you've done much photo-blogging, that blogger's compose window is rather small. Ok, very small. The small size makes it difficult to format your post efficiently, because you're constantly scrolling up and down. Needless to say, when I discovered how to make the window bigger, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Here's how to do it.

First, start using Firefox. Next, get the Greasemonkey add-on for Firefox. (I know it's a strange name, but you'll get over it. I did.) After you've installed the add-on, you need to install the Blogger Large Post Editor script. That's all there is to it. Now, when you login to blogger, your compose window will be full screen. Perfect ecstasy.

[For more information, check out Garrett's excellent video and article about Greasemonkey.]

Special thanks to Garrett for his great instructional material for the technologically challenged. If you haven't checked out his newest product about How to Buy a Computer, be sure to do so. The guy knows his stuff.

While we're on boring stuff and technicalities, I'd like to get some feedback on What Susan Said, my daily quotation blog. If you read it and like it, please either leave a comment on this post or send me an email and let me know. If enough people are reading and benefiting from it, I'll keep it going; otherwise, I might drop it. (If you don't know about What Susan Said, visit the link above or read my introductory post.)

As always, thanks for reading.

The Crucible

There’s a song that has never been written

There’s a melody gasping for breath
There's feelings and sounds that are silent
There’s a love that is stronger than death

The night takes the words right out of my mouth
The stars shine into my soul
And this terrible something that I can’t explain
Is slowly making me whole

And I'm lost - and I’m shouting
I’m hurt - and I’m doubting
I’m found - and I’m speechless
I’m filled - with Your completeness, Oh Lord

There is good that has never been paid for
There is wrong that has never been right
There’s a cold heart of hearts down in me somewhere
That needs to be washed in the light

The loneliness makes my love overflow
And spill out like tears on the ground
And the words of this song that has never been written
Are leading me on, around and around

And I'm lost - and I’m shouting
I’m hurt - and I’m doubting
I’m found - and I’m speechless
I’m filled - with Your completeness, Oh Lord


May 2005

Are Trees Conscious?

From Tolkien's dignified Ents to Lewis's delicate Dryads, fantasy worlds are replete with trees that think, speak, remember, and have a stake in what happens to the world. Of course, this is all very nice in fairy tales, but what if it were true? What if trees really were conscious? If this idea makes us fidget, perhaps it's something we ought to think about.

By using the word conscious, I mean to denote something different than the mere state of being alive. It is beyond this post (really, beyond this brain,) to mark the dividing line between the two; I only mean to make clear what kind of question I am asking.

No one will argue the point when you observe that trees are alive: we take that for granted. What intrigues me is whether they - or some of them - possess any measure of self-awareness. When you're in the right kind of forest, sometimes it's not hard to believe.

The Bible, the greatest fairy tale ever, (if I may say so reverently,) is far from silent on this question. Let's examine a few passages and see what we can find.

1 Chronicles 16:33 and Psalm 96:12 speak of the trees "singing for joy," and Isaiah 55:12 of them "clapping their hands." Psalm 148 calls upon all the trees - especially cedars - to praise the Lord. Ezekiel 17:24 speaks of the trees "knowing the Lord," and Jeremiah 6:6 names the cutting down of trees as part of God's judgment.

In Judges 9 we find a delightful parable involving the personification of trees that would hold its own beside any such story. Further, it seems to show that such stories have existed wherever men of vigor and imagination have lived among trees.

In 1 Chronicles 14, a rustling stir in the uppermost branches of a grove of Mulberry trees was to serve as the signal for David to go forth to battle. It is quite likely that the Lord stirred the trees, but it is interesting that He chose to give the sign in this way.

In Deuteronomy 20, the Lord forbids the children of Israel to cut down any fruit-bearing trees for siegeworks. (I suppose one could argue this was a strictly utilitarian prohibition, meant to preserve the fruit-bearing trees for the people to eat from later, but I rather think not.)

"When you besiege a city for a long time, making war against it in order to take it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against them. You may eat from them, but you shall not cut them down. Are the trees in the field human, that they should be besieged by you? Only the trees that you know are not trees for food you may destroy and cut down, that you may build siegeworks against the city that makes war with you, until it falls."

Did you notice that? God explicitly stated - through His rhetorical question - that trees are not human. However, in contrast to our modern ideas about ethics, their very non-humanness means they must be respected. We're forever trying to define what is human and what is not so that we know what things we must leave alone and what things we can abuse and vandalize without compunction. As we can see from the above passage, this utilitarian thinking is sadly misguided.

All of this is interesting, but what really got my attention was a single verse in Luke 17:

And the Lord said, "If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, "Be uprooted and planted in the sea," and it would obey you.

Branches and bristlecones! Not, "it shall be done," or "God will move it," but specifically "it would obey you." It, as in the tree itself. If this astonishing event were really to take place, we see immediately that two things would have to happen: 1) the tree would have to hear and understand the command, and 2) it would have to process the information and make a decision to obey. That sure adds up to something like a conscious tree in my book.

Of course, this may not be what happens at all; indeed, the whole thing may be only theoretical. But what is interesting is that Jesus spoke of the tree as its own entity. I don't know about you, but I find that terribly ticklish, not in a silly or amusing way, but in an exciting way, because it's always exciting to realize that the world is bigger and wilder than our ideas about it.

Image courtesy of willisms.com

Solzhenitsyn's Gulag Archipelago

If you got past that title, I'm impressed. Takes a few swallows, anyway. Hullo, waiter! Can we have some definitions please?

Solzhenitsyn (sōl'zhə-nēt'sĭn):
Soviet writer and political dissident whose novels exposed the brutality of Soviet labor camps

gulag (gōō'läg):

system of prisons and labor camps, especially for political detainees, in the former Soviet Union; rough acronym from Rus. Glavnoe upravlenie ispravitel'no-trudovykh lagerei "Chief Administration of Corrective Labor Camps," set up in 1931

archipelago (är'kə-pěl'ə-gō'):
a large group or chain of islands

So we see that my title roughly translates to A Russian Historian's book about a System of Prisons in the former Soviet Union. I suppose that wasn't so bad after all. Now for the story.

The Gulag Archipelago is a finger in the dike of Russian history. Counting executed persons per published paragraph, the Soviet travesty is spread pretty thin. As Solzhenitsyn says, "Peasants are a silent people, without a literary voice, nor do they write complaints or memoirs." (24)

The cold brutality of the Soviets, no doubt a large part of what Gulag is known for, is real. Still, it is not the main fabric of the book. Though the story cannot help but be sensational, this element is not overemphasized and deliberate space is granted to philosophical reflection.

The metaphor used by Solzhenitsyn of an archipelago is quite suitable. The camps and prisons were scattered all across Russia; it was a country within a country, with its own economy, transportation, and citizens. Here, away from the public eye, mock trials, torture, interminable interrogations, and executions to the tune of a thousand per month* could continue unhindered. "Heave the corpses into the water, and pretty soon the surface is all smooth again and no one's the wiser." (437)

Solzhenitsyn writes in a continuous tone of dry sarcasm, without being bitter. He knows the pen will outmaneuver the sword eventually, and sees no reason to hurry it. The stories roll on, line upon line, precept upon precept, irony upon irony.

In a footnote, the author boldly answers the question all readers are anxiously asking: "Here is what is most surprising of all: one can be a human being despite everything!" (20) Though from time to time Solzhenitsyn deplores the failure of himself and his countrymen to offer any substantial resistance against injustice, he never misses an opportunity to showcase the astonishing resilience of the human spirit. "'Hands behind your back! Line up in pairs! No talking! No stopping!' Such were the commands, but they forgot to forbid us to throw back our heads. And, of course, we did just that." (211)

This is by most standards a rather long book, and possibly best left to tedious people like me, unless you happen to be interested in 20th century Russian history, and why people do bad things, and what the two might have to do with one another. If you choose to read it, be forewarned: once you start, finishing becomes almost like a duty to mankind.

To the ones left behind who are picking up the pieces
of planes, bombs, and buildings - of innocence and evil
‘Cause when the news and noise and flowers die,
and you still wake up alone
There is a God who knows every tear you cry
and this world is on His shoulders

-Sandra McCracken, Best Laid Plans, "Age After Age"

*Page 435. All quotations from Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago (New York: Harper & Row, 1974)
Image courtesy of answers.com

Sing Peak

The day after Thanksgiving, we took our fun-loving Uncle Greg into the high country for some exercise and adventure. Nothing like a little backcountry bouldering to burn off a big holiday meal.

It was one of those days where it seems the warmth of the world has drained away, and even one's thoughts clatter like keys on a typewriter. Splendid day for hiking.

One rule of thumb for figuring temperature is to drop 3º for every additional 1,000 feet of elevation. So, even though it may have been 50º in Oakhurst, it was 29º (or less) where we began hiking. Of course, the wind chill makes it much colder. It definitely wasn't the sort of weather where you could comfortably stop for any extended period of time. When it's this cold, you have to keep moving.

Our destination for the day was Sing Peak, located right on the doorstep of the High Sierra. The entire hike was cross-country, with plenty of challenging bouldering. It's true: kids never grow up - they just find bigger playgrounds.

After we broke out of the treeline, removing one's gloves was not a pleasant proposition. Still, I couldn't resist pulling out the camera to get this shot.

Here we are at the top: cold as frozen peas but victorious. The summit is at 10,552 feet and offers a breathtaking panorama of the central Sierras. Left to right: yours truly, Uncle Greg, Dave, and Jesse. I'm not sure if Greg is performing some kind of salute or just worried that his hat is going to blow away.

After coming off the mountain, we selected a reasonably sheltered place to have a quick lunch. You guessed it: turkey sandwiches. From there, we traversed down the gorge for awhile before cutting back over the ridge towards the truck.

Once back on the westward side of the ridge, out of the wind, we came across this obviously condemned but rather picturesque old shack. In contrast to the cold statues of New England or austere cathedrals of Europe, California history is still warm - almost warm enough to imagine yourself within it.