September whatever

Hiatus end.

Tonight was Tulsa's huge "Fight Night" with attendance up to 3,000 people hosted by GUTS church. Anyone willing can sign up to be placed in a boxing match with three one minute rounds, all of which takes place in a real boxing ring in the middle of the sanctuary. My favorite quotes that surfaced in regards to this christian event are:


Quote 1:
Meredith: "How did they tie Jesus and Christianity into the boxing when you went last year?"
Attendee:" ....I don't remember."

Quote 2:
(quote received from one who participated in one of the fights as we discovered that the video of his fight was accidently recorded over)
"Now I don't have a video to put on youtube!"


You have to love the American Church. In fact I believe it is the easiest thing in the world to love the American Church, and you wonder why? The reason is simply because the American Church has BECOME American. With our: sweet lights, comfortable chairs, boxing matches, masturbation messages, and huge egos, who wouldn't to join the damn club? The obsession with dressing up a walk with Christ with marketable strategies and benefits makes me so irritated to an extent that is very difficult to express.

To glorify one's self, to make your church the "Bad-Ass that hosts Fight Night" negates what you say you believe. Please let us all put our eyes on Christ, stop making ourselves so glorious, because in the end, no one is good compared to Him.

We are all hipsters.

Screwed

Society is now screwed. Media is now screwed. Children are now screwed. I am now screwed.


I would like to do a study as to how many sexual advertisements, comments, allusions, or instances that we as an average American experience in one day. I feel so desensitized to what I used to find vulgar. It's almost as if we would have to go blind and deaf to "flee youthful lusts" as we are commanded to do.

My God, adultery is in my heart, but I no longer want it there. Where can I go to strengthen myself before returning to this ever-present temptation?

I admit defeat but thank you for your victory.

This Damned House

A man lives in a house, a broken and dark place. The wind moves through the cracks, whispers in his lonely ear only phrases. The sink within the house spews water only to send the dust that coats its white walls down the drain. The iron turns itself on only when the winter brings a chill to its spine. The staircase reaches towards the ceiling only to gain authority over all below. Even the dog which sleeps bedside only stays for the few pieces of kibble the resident gives it.

The resident, disgusted, realizes this house does its best to comfort itself and so little to comfort the resident. The resident shouts back at the wind's whispers: "When will the wind blow this damned house down?"

It's a dog-eat-dog world.

I looked in my backyard in time to see the doe leave its fawn.


God help us.

Dreamt

I dreamt that I came up to this boy, and I could sense that he had demons in him. I can't really remember who was with me, but I was trying to prove to them that he was demon possessed by commanding the boy by saying: "If you have such-and-such spirit in you, in Jesus name I command your eyes to change color." Then the boy's eyes would slowly fade from dark brown to the lightest blue. Then I would repeat the same sentence and they would fade back to brown. The whole time the boy was real squeamish acting, like he didn't want to look me in the eye.

Interesting dream that occurred last night, thought I'd just kind of illustrate it.


Also, I was just messing around with india ink, and am growing fonder with this as I look at it.