This hymn came back to me yesterday evening, as I looked at green leaves waving against a sapphire sky: For the Beauty of the Earth, sung by Michelle Swift.
And God saw everything that He had made, and, behold, it was very good. (Genesis 1:31)
Month: May 2019
A Passel of Possums
I had a baby possum once. I found him tooling around at the edge of the woods, he didn’t seem afraid of me, and so I brought him home and kept him in my room until my mother saw him and started screaming. Mothers don’t understand some things.
My wife had a possum in her house, too, before we met. Her possum had babies. Right there in the house. She didn’t throw them out!
I really don’t know what was wrong with my mother that day. Must’ve been something she ate.
By Request, ‘When He Was on the Cross’
Requested by Erlene: When He Was on the Cross, by John Starnes.
People in the First Century were used to seeing horrific punishments, like crucifixion, carried out in public. We are not–and God be thanked for that. Speaking for myself, the cross is not an easy thing to think about. Nor should it be. O Lord our God, draw us to Jesus. Amen.
‘4 in 10 Embrace Socialism’–Really?
They wish!
*Sigh* I guess I’ll do some nooze. Don’t wanna, but it’s part of my job.
In a somewhat misleading headline, Gallup reports that “4 in 10 Americans Embrace Some Form of Socialism” (https://news.gallup.com/poll/257639/four-americans-embrace-form-socialism.aspx). Obviously they haven’t been paying much attention to what’s going on in Venezuela.
According to Gallup, 43% think socialism would be “a good thing” for America, while 51% say it would be a bad thing. Among Democrats (surprise, surprise), 57% “view socialism positively” in a 2018 poll. In 1942, 25% of respondents said they thought socialism was good. Given that we were at war at the time with the National Socialists of Germany, that seems a rather odd response.
Digging a little deeper into this poll, we find that the definition of socialism, at least in many people’s minds, has changed. Only 17% of the people in the poll associated socialism with “government control over the means of production.”
What? But socialism is “government control over the means of production.” Looks like our schools and colleges have done their work only too well, producing 83% ignorance of what socialism is. Heck, it’s easy to have a positive view of something when you jolly well don’t know what it is.
In the same poll, respondents decisively preferred the free market over government control in all categories except for “protecting consumers’ privacy online” and “environmental protection.” Well, duh! It would be nice if we could actually trust somebody to protect the environment. Around here the government lets developers pave over every square foot of the environment that they haven’t paved already. Gotta make room for all those nail salons.
I wonder how the Democrats’ 70% tax rate, open borders, and live birth abortion would poll.
And the Winner Is…!
Yes, we have a comment contest winner! Byron the Quokka kept tugging on my pants-leg to tell me: “And the winner, posting Comment No. 44,000, is Phoebe!” (That’s his cousin, Eliza Williams, in the background. She is the only quokka with a surname.)
Phoebe, you have won an autographed copy of The Temptation (Bell Mountain No. 11), so please email me your mailing address so I can send it out. Byron wants to hand-deliver it, but I had to tell him no, that’s not on–first I’d have to fly him to New Jersey from Australia. We will just have to rely on the U.S. Postal Service.
Shoot! The contest is over. I was enjoying it. Well, we’ll just have to start a new one. Does 47,000 comments sound unreasonable? That’ll give me time to think of a really gaudy prize for No. 50,000.
To all of you who’ve played, thank you, it was fun, and we’ll do it again.
P.S.–Going down the stretch, this contest was very, very close! So if you were one of those readers who just missed, you’ll get a chance to try again.
Countdown to a Contest Winner (plus Byron’s Baby Picture)
Byron the Quokka is so excited about the impending climax of our comment contest, he has trotted out his baby pictures. That’s him in the pouch. His mother is very proud of him for growing up to be the kind of quokka who can run a comment contest. It turns out quokkas are very found of comment contests and always seem to have one going among themselves.
Anyway, Byron predicts that we’ll have a winner today, before suppertime–so I’d better keep my eyes peeled. It was 87 degrees here yesterday, and now today it’s in the 40s again, so I don’t feel like I’d be much good for anything more challenging than waiting for someone to win the comment contest.
As Byron never tires of saying, “It could be you!”
The Wit and Wisdom of Wytt (‘The Palace’)
(That’s Wytt in the upper right-hand corner, encouraging Jack to climb the wall.)
Our friend “Weavingword” has requested an excerpt demonstrating Wytt’s courage. No bigger than a squirrel himself, he backs down for no one–not even for this gigantic killer bird that wants to make a meal of Martis, who lies unconscious and defenseless. We take up the scene on Page 60 of The Palace:
“The great bird was annoyed.
“A ridiculously tiny red-haired creature was harassing her so that she couldn’t dine in peace. Indeed, she had yet to begin her meal. There lay the man, half-dead, just waiting to be devoured–and this little nuisance screeched and jabbered at her, dancing all around and trying to threaten her with a tiny twig.
“She darted her head and snapped at it, but her jaws came together with only a loud ‘clack!’ to show for it. She was more than annoyed; now she was positively furious
“‘Parasite! Carrion eater! Big clumsy lizard! I empty my glands in your direction!'”
“Wytt’s insults meant nothing to the bird, although they were among the most offensive known to the Omah. But his shrill cries went right to the bone, and now nothing would satisfy the bird but to crush this little hairy pest in her beak. She forgot the meal in front of her. Hissing like a serpent, she chased Wytt, striking at him again and again but always missing. The more often she missed, the greater burned her rage…”
(At this point thirteen armed men ride up on horseback, and the bird is compelled to retreat.)
Wytt’s armament consists of a little stick sharpened by his teeth, and bushels of self-confidence. You just can’t keep him down.
Anyone can request an excerpt from any of my books. Just remember to give me the title, the page number, and a clear idea of what it is that you want me to excerpt.
Mr. Nature: The Amazing Colossal Giant Centipede
Imagine a centipede that’s six feet long, maybe a little longer, and weighs a hundred pounds, and maybe more. Yipes!
Jambo, Mr. Nature here–and today our safari takes us to a tropical forest in what is now somewhere in, I guess, Oklahoma: a lot has changed since then. And there are these things crawling around through the ferns… Not really centipedes; but probably, if you saw one, you would cry out, “Eeyah! A giant centipede!”
Be of good cheer: “fossil material suggests it may have been herbivorous,” scientists have said. Uh, what if the suggestion is wrong? Not to worry–no one has seen a live Arthropleura in donkey’s years.
Why, once upon a time, were bugs so big? Some scientists believe there was more oxygen in the air than there is now. Let me point out that, where fossils of these giant bugs are found, we don’t find the fossils of gigantic birds, chameleons, or anteaters. Anyway, who knows? It’s God’s planet and He has done as He pleased, without explaining it to us. But He’s certainly left enough hints to keep us busy.
I guess the closest I’ll ever come to Arthropleura is the “giant millipede,” eight inches long, that they had in one of our local pet stores and which they let me handle: millipedes don’t bite. It was a gentle little soul, although its feet tickled. Maybe Arthropleura was peaceful and benign.
All I know is, it would take my breath away, to see one.
‘Another Morning in the Doctor’s Waiting Room’ (2014)
I’ll bet you’d be shocked, if you could add up the hours you’ve spent in various waiting rooms, and could see the total for your life so far.
Waiting rooms used to be bad enough when there were only old magazines and other patients to look at. Now they’ve all got TV. And there’s nothing on.
I recall one morning TV talk show, hosted by and featuring celebrities I never heard of, in which the guest simply didn’t turn up and they were stuck with dead air: the host went out to the parking lot to see if the guest was wandering around out there, maybe hoping to find usable cigarette butts. Maybe the guest couldn’t figure out how to use the door.
And the magazines are no better than they were 50 years ago. The ads are more prurient, but the content’s just as dull as ever.
Why does your dentist want you to watch the new Let’s Make a Deal?
Think about that.
‘Morning Has Broken’
I never knew, until recently, that Morning Has Broken is a hymn–and quite a lovely hymn, at that. Here it’s sung by Orla Fallon. Don’t be surprised if it sticks with you all day.