words to the wise

Coffee makes the world go round
world go round, world go round.
Coffee make the world go round
so early in the morning.

As president I promise to all efforts, take all reasonable action, ruling out nothing, so let mister Chavez take a word to the wise, vital to the American economy and well being, my administration will brook no interference with our allies in the production and export of coffee.

A further word to the wise. Political office in not a place where one dabbles. Higher office even more so. If one wishes to be taken seriously one should concentrate ones efforts and not squander ones energy nor the good will of the American people by spreading oneself to thin. If I may be so bold to offer a word of knowledge. Mister Borat Obama, movies or a higher calling and leave the documentaries to mister Gore.

Courage... Wait, that's no good.
Peace. No, that makes me sound like a hippie.
God bless. Too offensive.
Whatever.

Taking the higher ground

It seems in the spirit of no bull a correction must be made regarding a statement attributed to myself. It was reported my running mate graduated from some Podunk college somewhere. We regret any injury this misleading statement may have caused. Karen actually graduated from some Podunk bible college.

Also, it was reported some drunk guy claimed my running mate bore a resemblance to a certain other politician, while I hold no malice toward this other person and do in fact consider her to be a credit to her gender, I find the comparison to be grossly inaccurate and unfair to my esteemed and much better looking colleague. Why my colleague was hanging out with a drunk guy I will leave to some spurious media hack to ferret out should he or she deem such slander worthy of print.

Speaking of said media, while I'm sure they would be delighted should I engage in the usual level of mud slinging common to the modern day political campaign, I have chosen to take the higher ground and I will be making no comment concerning the ties to terror mister Borat Obama may or may not have had in his youth.

Good day.

No Bull

Monday. I am up but I don't like it. When I'm president, if I ever push the button, it will probably be on a Monday. I can practically guaranty that I won't, though. I mean, what would be the point. It's not that I'd be soft on terror or anything like that, but even a moderate thermo-nuclear exchange, a dozen good size cities or so, you get a winter that last decades and three quarters of the planet starves to death and you can't make any money like that, especially if your dead. It's just not cost productive so ten to one, I wouldn't do it. And then there's the whole God thing. As a cosmic parent He's allowed are room to get messy, but I don't think He's going to actually let us torch it.

Speaking of not being soft on terror, I pledge to continue the cabinet level position of the Department of Homeland Secretaries, and am actively pursuing candidates. Coffee brewing is a must. We must after all remain vigilant and how you do that without coffee is a mystery to me, especially on Mondays.

I am also proud to announce my selection for vice president, Karen of Karen's Journal, graduate of some Podunk college somewhere, and former Iowa "congressional aid." As my vice presidential running mate her duties will be to look good in front of the camera, get me some votes I wouldn't otherwise get, and hopefully not screw anything up until after the election.

Remember. No bull.

My Platform - No BS

Now that my candidacy is underway, I should probably come up with some kind of platform, something populist, a chicken in every pot, that sort of thing, something to really real the rubes in. I'll throw in some righteous indignation, how dare they bla bla bla without the consent of the people, with a bunch of no mores. You know, no more quagmire in Iraq, or no more talk of abandoning the good people of Iraq. No more fee lunch for the fat cats. No more missed lunches for the school kiddies. It doesn't matter. Just something I can be indignant about.

I'm going to need to come off as moral. Given my past misadventures. I'm kind of stuck with claiming I'm more honest than the rest. While others parade their spic and span past, I I tell you the truth. I did do drugs in my youth. Let others put the best possible spin one the ivy league past. I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm going to talk straight like every hard working man and women knows how to do. I ain't got time for BS. There we go. A little brain storming goes a long way. It's simple, to the point, connects with the general fed upness the people have with politicians and the political process. No BS. That's my platform. After all. Like I said. I'm a born again. Would I lie to you?

Puma for President

whatever, it's morning. I barley have any eyes open. One of these days my wife is going to find me face forward into the keyboard.

Wow, the Democrats are certainly feeling their oats. You'd think they think everybody forgot they were politicians and suddenly acquired integrity. Can you guess what I think about politicians in general? I suppose there's some good ones out there. With the odds you'd think there would be at least one.

Yes, yes, I am bitter and totally disillusioned as far as politics goes. I mean it won't be long before the media starts trying to guess if a given candidate is saying what he or she actually thinks, or if it's political rhetoric. I mean I'm really tired of it. What's it cost now to run for president? It's hundreds of millions anyway. And then you have all the pacs or whatever committees, like the swift boat guys and other "unofficial" hired thugs and spin doctors.

In fact I'm so tired of it, sometimes I think I ought to run for president. How about it? I here by announce my candidacy for the president of the United States. I promise not to spend one thin dime towards the goal, thus I will not be beholding to anybody. I promise to be up front about my former drug use, income tax laxes, somewhat complicated discharge from the military, my Jack Daniels winter and season of left wing survivalism (don't worry I got rid of all my guns, ammo, and freeze dried foods), and my present born again status.

What do you say? Puma for President.

inclusive or exclusive

Some of you are familiar with the concept of Christian small groups. Some people have closed ones and some have open ones. While I think there may be times, or to use the spiritual cliche, seasons, when a group can be closed, possibly doing a strictly defined study, I don't think I could ever be part of a closed group.

While there may be commitment and knowledge requirement for how the group works, I can't see saying sorry, but you cannot work out you salvation here. Having a closed group seems the direct opposite of being a Christian. The safety of a closed group is a phycological concept, not a Christian one. When is it ever appropriate to turn someone away refusing to be Christ representative on earth, refusing to bare one another's burdens, telling God, no, we have enough gifts in our group, or we like our configuration and we don't want you to mess with it. When do we ever say do not come unto me, you who are heavily burdened. If you get to big, which is a lot bigger than most think, split into two. If your group has become a place where you feel totally comfortable and safe to share then you are being disobedient to working out your salvation in fear and trembling.

Pressing On Toward the Goal

Good morning,

I've called the electrician. rewiring the shop, setting up for the expanded kitchen and new bathroom, already roughed in. Setting up for some major work, nothing structural but a lot. Completion, in several phases, I'm hoping for the end of the summer. A practical application of hoping for what is not seen. The house is definitely livable, but it has not yet reached its fulfilment. But, truly truly, I say unto my wife, it will.

So we are pressing on toward the goal of a rehabbed house. Believe me it's been a long time coming. We, God and my wife and I, seem to be aiming at a house church. Any prayers out there would be appreciated.

Monday

Go Bears

I picked a good two games to watch this season, yesterday and two weeks from now.

For you wood shop geeks, I picked up a Delta 12 inch radial arm on Saturday. Now all I have to do is run a 220 line so I can use it.

That's it for this Monday morning.

morning words

"Hi," he said, squinting at the screen. Hunched over the keyboard, he leaned on one elbow and adjusted his backside in his ergonomic chair. The chair is grey, with black plastic arms and a tall back with lumbar support. The only time he feels the lumbar support on his terminally aching back is when he stops typing and leans back to sip the ever present coffee.

I received in the mail three books and a ten CD series on Romans by N T Wright, the Bishop of Durham. I've started the first CD. I'll listen to them on this cheep elliptical workout machine. I bought the floor model from Sharper Image for about a hundred and thirty dollars. Me and my wife Jackie love it. I'm really excited about listening to the series.

I'm also excited because we've just been approved for a re-fi for money to finish fixing our house. Some day I'll tell you about the house odyssey.

God is good. With the re-fi, our bills are going to go down two hundred bucks.

Later

Very AM

Don't expect me to come up with new titles every time. I mean give me a break, I'm still half asleep. If it wasn't for spell check you wouldn't be able to read half of this. Okay, I'm exaggerating, but you get my drift.

It is also a good thing you do not experience the time it actually takes me to write this. You don't experience the yawns between words, the momentary brain glitches during which I look at the screen like I don't know what it is. The sips from the caffeinated elixir of life. No to you it's just all this smooth easy flow of sublime wisdom, expounding eloquently so you can sit back in your easy chair soaking it up like a sponge, drinking you Starbucks Latte, while us poor working shulbs get up God knows when getting on a three stupid buss to get to our underpaid meinial jobs. Do you remember that bit where Belushi goes into a rant.

Actually I drive a nifty red F150 pickup and my wife drives an Nissan Extera. Talk about political incorrectness. All you SUV, gas guzzling, earth wasting republicans know who you are.

Finally, my big F150 has the 5.4 engine in it. Take that you pansy tree huggers.

Finally, finally. Let's hope no one comes and fire-bombs our vehicles now. Certainly a very ecologically friendly act. Not! Not to mention it would put me out of work, which only a republican is allowed to do and I've said nothing about pluralism so all you neo-Nazi whack jobs, stay away from my truck.

Moooorning

Blza bla bla. Write Write Write. Putting things down in the morning. I'm in that one eye open stage. It's my right eye that's not cooperating, so that must mean the left side of me refuses to wake up, not that I'm making a political statement. The right side of me would like to jump to conclusions, make some broad sweeping generalization to which the left could reply in kind thus polarizing my statehood.

Coffee is doing it's thing, seeping through my veins, kick starting the old transmission. It is seeping other places but I won't go there. It is morning after all.

What else?

What else for this morning? In the above I wanted to say something grossly politically incorrect. Suffice it to say, I hate political correctness. I could say Christians are very narrow, but even though some of them are, some of my best friends are Christian, well all of them, It would only be a politically incorrect statement if I substituted some other belief system, ethnicticity, or race as, as far as I can determine, it is not politically incorrect to disparage Christians, though, if your running for some office, it could cost you some votes,

Morning Again

No matter what, they always come, another day to get up and work. Not that I'm complaining, I'm just not awake yet and it is a rare thing that I feel I've got enough sleep, hence the scary truth of coffee. Cafe Americano, I believe. Two shot of espresso with water. We've got a machine. I push buttons set a dial and it grinds the beans pushes water through an dispenses coffee. It's the perfect caffeine delivery system. Except it's developed a leak. It pees all over itself every time I make a cup.

It's also become winter again, for those of you who aren't in Chicago. Two cold is better than too hot though. I discovered this framing houses in Houston in the early eighties. You can always put more clothes on. You can only take so many off. I did have a great tan though, Well, almost great. Work boots, you know. Fish belly white from the ankles down.

Ta

Morning

It's morning. 5:21. As always when I first sit in front of the keyboard, there is fear what I put down will suck, not to mention be misspelled. Oh I know there is spell check but technology has not yet caught up with caliber of my inability to spell. At best spell check provides me with a false sense of security.

I don't know what I'd do with out coffee. It's almost the poor man's Holy Spirit. It is my helper. It gives me the strength to get up in the morning. It prys open my lids and says wake up. I've long since referred to coffee as liquid ambition. This bit about coffee is what I cal a half joke. It's a joke, but there's enough truth in it to scare me.

Ta

Morning Blog

It has been pointed out to me by my good friend Karen, of Karen's Journal, if I want to cultivate a readership, I have been lax in my entries. Therefore, I hereby institute the Morning Blog, being written to you practically pre-coffee. The goal is, like His mercies, the blog be new every morning. This should not be construed this will actually happen. The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak and all that. Unlike Him and His mercies, I often fall short of the mark. I do, however, once I get into a rhythm, promise to make it new most mornings.

So who knows what will come out. The goal will not be so much to say anything profound, rather then to push keys in a mostly coherent sequence. So see you next morning.

Probably.