Category: Fun?


** A note from the vagabond: I posted a flash science fiction piece here a while ago. I ended up liking it somewhat and decided to try and expand it to 8 or 9 thousand words. I eventually finished it about a month ago will be posting it in small chunks here for the coming month or two as I go through and edit it further. The following section is a rewrite of that which I posted before, followed by some new stuff. Thanks for reading… **

Under This Dome of Pretence

That’s the way it was with him. Always running, never fighting. “Welcome to Lat Khean” said a sign standing to one side against a backdrop of empty sand and sky. He was on a slow march over the eroded path which rose and fell over the landscape. He wasn’t sure what made the cities like Lat Khean so appealing to the masses of other settlers of this graveyard planet. He savoured the depth of disgust he had for them as he lifted his foot off of the terra in a puff of light yellow-brown dust. Locke lifted his eyes from the patch of ground immediately before his feet for the first time in a few indiscernible hours to inspect his surroundings more closely. He was looking for the glint, the glint which would guide him like a directional star, toward his object of hate, and his mantle of redemption which lay somewhere inside it. The sharp light from the low-lying sun which dominated the sky above with its immensity made it difficult to see as the photons bombarded Locke’s eye’s with too much brilliance for his unmodified eyes to handle. The rays refracting off of the desert around him had him squinting so hard that his eyes were almost closed. He knew more from his experience than from his observations. The stretch of empty desert behind the welcome sign didn’t fool his subconscious. His quickening heart beat was an observable measure that told him he was headed toward more than just dry landscape and sizable craters though this is all one less experienced would find if approached with an un-searching eye.

Locke dug his hands into his worn pant pockets; the memory of where precisely he had put the crumpled piece of paper had escaped his tired mind. The bits of lint left over in the depths of his pockets drifted off with the hot breeze as he pulled the softened from age paper into the harsh sun to look at. “Lat Khean, Soi Sam, tell them Joe sent you” said the paper in faded ink. He flipped it over, “Soi 4, Sala Daeng”. Locke stumbled onwards; searching for the glint of the glass like city dome he knew had to be appearing soon. He glanced back down at the patch of yellow dust before his feet because his eyes were sore from the brightness of the day. The reflection off of its gleam made him close his eyes momentarily and he felt his steps take him left of his intension as his tired body groped for balance without guiding sight. The few seconds of relief were bliss as his headache eased in the dark behind his eyelids. He flicked a hydration capsule into his mouth and it exploded into liquid as he bit down.

When he opened his eyes again the brightness was intensified until his pupils constricted again and he reduced his eyes to slits – barely open, but open enough to catch the glint he had been searching for. The city dome was just ahead. Locke pulled on his cloak and let the sleeves run back down to his wrists. 20 minutes later he glanced back over his shoulder, he was approaching the now obvious dome ahead. His fear of heat stroke now eclipsed completely by his peaking agoraphobia. The translucent invisibility of the dome from far was an obvious distortion of light from up close and octagonal grid patterns on the hazy dome criss-crossed across its surface. Locke paused where the yellow path he’d been on for 3 planetary days met the dome. “Joe sent me” he croaked into the hard glass-like surface before him. There was a pause and then a ripple in the dome propagated from a point on the surface before him and he stepped forward, ducking his head through the rippling wall…

Locke’s left arm twitched and he gave it a glance, just before his body slipped through the surface of the shimmering dome, to ensure none of his ill acquired tech was showing beyond his sleeves. Lat Khean’s air-conditioned atmosphere met his bone dry skin with a cool embrace, wrapping him in a moist body wrap due to the psychrometrically cooled air. As if the atomic weight of the heat itself was lifting off of Locke’s shoulders, he stood up straight, but what truly greeted him this side of the dome was an old hated companion. A featureless face in his subconscious, a personality behind his eyelids who would look at him out of a crowd of blank faces. The voice was always a whisper in his ear – you’re a coward it would say Run home to where it’s safe. He didn’t want to be in the city but circumstances were no slave to his desires and his past had forced him to travel the 200 miles to Lat Khean, this serpent pit of poisoned motives and poorly disguised intentions. But this was for her… and so he had no choice.

He felt as if there were knives poking at his heart, he knew the feeling well, it was the anxiety he felt for the people he would soon have to handle. Locke sunk into his coat and tried to avoid the eye contact of the impending crowd he had emerged into this side of the dome. “Cities…” Hespoke it like a swearword under his breath. “People…” he swore again.

“Keep walking, head down, breath slow…” he told himself as he moved past the congestion of conversing people.

Locke glanced backwards at the dome and then moved forwards again noting the tall skyscrapers surrounding him. He was moving through a bustling crowd of Lat Khean’s people on the sidewalk of a dirty street. He moved past street stalls selling tech, food, and many nefarious items for which he had no desire. He was single minded and moved deliberately, not even pausing to acknowledge the hawker’s calls of promise telling him that “I have all you need just down this soi”. Locke needed to get through this mess of people and find Joe before one of the knives poked a hole in his pounding heart. The signs on the side walk guided him through two lefts and a right, down a flight of eroded stairs and then up to a wooden door in a graffitied wall. Locke hit the intercom button and waited.

There was a commission inside, behind the door. Footsteps and gun fire, Locke jumped aside and the door burst open like a crate of fireworks, the wooden door splintered sending planks, cement and bricks exploding in all directions, except in the direction of Locke who stood with his back to the wall adjacent the now gaping hole with his eyes and fists clenched shut.

Next, people exploded out of the hole in the wall and Locke opened his eyes just in time to watch two men and a lady, follow each other in a staccato blistering sprint out of the charred hole. The last in the line of three out of the graffitied wall paused momentarily only to slip a glance through her visor at Locke, before putting her head down and recommitting to the chase. Her face was hidden but to Locke it almost appeared as if she was considering approaching him instead of disappearing with the others, why had she paused when she looked at him? Almost as if she had recognised him. The way she moved… Locke almost felt the same way about her, but he was left behind, surrounded by a pile of rubble. The girl and the other runners had disappeared into the street.

 

** part 2 will follow next week, come back if you found this vaguely amusing**

To all of my itinerant readers, an explanation for my absence. Here are a few reasons for the long break in my posts (three months).

1) I started a new job as a mechanical engineer/software developer for an energy engineering company. My time and energy has been absorbed in learning my new trade. I decided during my adventures in 2012 that I wanted to be a programmer and a software developer. I have thus spent large portions of my creativity and energy in learning C#.Net; SQL; Visual Basic and a myriad of other languages whilst I attempt to create software to perform optimization in the context of simultaneously linking up a machine control software and a fluid mechanics solver for real time application.

2) The vagabond settled down to a stable job and home, this prompted much thought and existential wonder as to whether the vagabond was still relevant to his identity. The answer is yes – since I still remain spiritually vagabond. This spiritual vagabond ethos still very much applies to my world and context.

3) I was writing and attempting to finish the story I started in this post: The man with the iron fist which has subsequently been renamed as “Under This Dome of Pretence . I finished the first complete draft of this short story 2 weeks ago. I will contemplate publishing sections of it here.

I have added a new post below and thus the vagabond is back:

For a long time I have considered myself an introspective person, and I have attributed what wisdom I posses to this attribute. Others have noted before me that the self is the greatest opportunity to understand the social world and its behaviours for the reason that the self is always around to be observed. In fact of all people, we cannot escape only ourselves. Of course any scientific observation of an n = 1 sample group may be questioned – but we can escape this paradox if we apply experiment on what we have discovered through introspection to others in our world. Social experimentation. Interaction with people as a way to prove hypotheses of human behaviour theory.

I have been considering self-control and the role and extent of autocracy of the personal will on one’s own behaviour. As such I began looking for research material on the subject, which lead me to BF Skinner and the work I will start to summarise and perform exegesis upon below.

But first a short word on Burrhus Frederic “B. F.” Skinner:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._F._Skinner

B.F. Skinner – Harvard Professor of Psychology

 B.F. Skinner was an american psychologistbehaviorist, author, inventor, and social philosopher. He was the Edgar Pierce Professor of Psychology at Harvard University from 1958 until his retirement in 1974. Most notably, Skinner invented “radical behaviourism” and even more interestingly the “Skinner Box” or what is more officially called the “operant conditioning chamber”:

 “The box had a lever and a food tray, and a hungry rat could get food delivered to the tray by pressing the lever. Skinner observed that when a rat was put in the box, it would wander around, sniffing and exploring, and would usually press the bar by accident, at which point a food pellet would drop into the tray. After that happened, the rate of bar pressing would increase dramatically and remain high until the rat was no longer hungry.”

Credits to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._F._Skinner

Now some thoughts on the book itself.

Chapter one has some interesting ideas. It begins with the question “Can science help?” and goes on to elucidate on the goods and bads of the scientific era (these past few hundred years) in which there has been an exponential increase in scientific discovery. Skinner’s position is that natural science has developed so fast as to leave the science of human nature behind – thus causing imbalance in our world.

Humanity develops its understanding of technologies which have major effect on our social world and it discovers and defines laws and relationships in the natural world by which we can predict the effects of natural processes (enabling such things as atomic bombs and aeroplanes through nuclear fusion and fluid mechanics in aeronautics) but we do not apply the same drive and energy into discovering and defining the laws and relationships in the world of human nature with which we could predict the outcomes of our scientific creations (such as Hiroshima, 9/11, etc).

Skinner goes on to argue against those who rebel against the idea that human behaviour can in fact be understood through defined laws and relationships. On a side-note, it amazes me that the world has come so far and yet our common understanding of human nature is still mostly agnostic. We all agree on principles such as gravity but we don’t all share agreement on what motivates human decisions.

Why is it that advances in the hard and pure sciences such as mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology are pursued so vehemently and yet the very thing that drives those motivations and the thing that will inevitably make use of them remains esoteric? Psychology, philosophy and religion have much to say on these questions, but their consideration is diminished in light of technological advancement. Perhaps science will slow down in a century or two and a renaissance like age of psychology, philosophy and religion will emanate instead. The utopian satirist author Samuel Butler plays on this idea in his novel Erewhon, where ‘the instruments and products of science were put into museums – as vestiges of a stage in the evolution of human culture which did not survive.’

The question still remains however, is human nature subject to behavioural theory and prediction? What percentage of human behaviour is a categorical response to external stimuli and what percentage is not? Experiments like Skinner’s box and Pavlov’s bell suggest some relationship. Skinner’s next chapter begins to dig into this “Science of Behaviour” as he tries to show the extent to which the study of people’s actions are subject to the same methodology as is used in the hard sciences.

I aim to determine from his theories the relationships between and key principles behind free will and self-control.

Lastly, here is a brief interview with Skinner:

**author’s note: as per usual, the below story is unvarnished, but that’s what drafts are for, enjoy it**

The man with the iron fist

That’s the way it was with him. Always running, never fighting. “Welcome to Chit Lom” said the sign. He was taking a slow walk down the surreptitiously marked out path and wasn’t sure what made this piece of dirt any different from the last he lifted his foot of in a puff of light yellow brown dust. Locke lifted his eyes from the patch of ground immediately before his feet or the first time in a few indiscernible hours to inspect his surroundings more closely. His experience told him that he was headed toward more than just the current empty stretch of Karoo-like desert and sizable craters would initially suggest to an un-searching eye.

Locke dug his hands into his worn jean pockets; the memory of where precisely he had put the crumpled piece of paper had escaped his tired mind. The bits of lint left over in the depths of his pockets drifted off with the breeze as he pulled the softened from age paper into the harsh sun to look at. “Chit Lo, Soi Sam, tell them Joe sent you” said the paper in faded ink. He flipped it over, Soi 4, Sala Daeng”. Locke stumbled onwards; searching for the glint of the glass like city dome he knew had to be appearing soon. He glanced back down at the patch of yellow dust before his feet because his eyes were sore from the brightness of the mid-Martian day. The reflection off of its gleam made him close his eyes momentarily and he felt his steps take him left of his intention as his tired body groped for balance without guiding sight. The few seconds of relief were bliss as his headache eased in the dark behind his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes again the brightness was intensified until his pupils constricted again and he reduced his eyes to slits – barely open, but open enough to catch the tint he had been searching for. The city dome was just ahead. Locke pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders and let the sleeves run back down to his wrists. He glanced back over his shoulder as he approached the now obvious dome 10 minutes of walking later and his fear of dehydration was replaced by his agoraphobia. The translucent invisibility of the dome from far was an obvious distortion of light from up close and octagonal grid patterns on the hazy dome criss-crossed across its surface. Locke paused where the yellow path he’d been on for 3 Martian days met the dome. “Joe sent me” he croaked into the hard glass-like surface before him. There was a pause and then a ripple in the dome propagated from a point on the surface before him and he stepped forward, ducking his head through the rippling wall…

**authors note: I wrote this introduction to the rick-rack rhythm of the rail road, hunched up in a seat designed for a Thai person half my size, in the last car of a train trekking from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, Thailand. I had 16 hours to spend with only my moleskin notebook and tablet keyboard to keep me entertained. At about the 8 hour mark, giving up on sleep, I pulled out my pencil and moleskin and began to write. Thus Locke was born.

I have another 3000 words to this story following the above which I will put up in due time. I’m not sure just how long this story will be in the end yet but I am hoping to finish it in the next 3000 words. It feels like a 6000 word story**

We are all in a contest of who can shout the loudest. In Thailand there is a bird that lives its life in the cage of its enthusiastic master. It is called the Nok Krung Hua Juk – the Cage Bird Head Mohawk (a loose, literal translation as close as I can figure).

As I walk down a small, busy soi with my friends and colleagues Sam speaks to me in sincere elucidations. I step aside as a pickup drives past, dodging the Thai kids playing football on the street, the motorcycle scooters cruise past and I take a moment to covet the cool wind that one enjoys on a motorcycle ride in the Bangkok heat. Sam’s speech pauses and his eyes dart leftward as he makes the translations to English in his mind – he tells me about this eccentric and bemused local bird. His father  from the South of Thailand used to own one he tells me. It has since been given to Sam’s friend owing to the erratic, high attention, maintenance required of those who indulge themselves in the fringe hobby which gives such high value to the bird. “10 000 baht”, Sam goes on to say when I ask him of the birds value. “In my home town you see the owners on their motocycle with their bird-cage in one hand” Sam tells me. These birds take part in the sport of Bird Shouting – where they are pitched against each other in featherweight exhibitions of their vocal prowess.

A lucrative and more or less illegal gambling ring of old men and bird hobbyists surround the cages as they ‘shout’ at the top of their lungs – both the old men and the birds – aiming to see who can shout longer and harder through their wooden cages.

“What do you call it? Ha ha – like walking your dog – walking their birds? But it’s on a motorcycle so – riding their birds?” Sam muses as he explains some of the nuances of the business. “They need to improve the bird’s voice” he says. “They have to get used to all – all the … all -”
“all the noise and busyness going on around them” I complete his sentence, his 2nd language momentarily failing him.
“Yes, so that they can improve their voice”

The gambling rings in Thailand are a sight to behold. The best example I’ve personally witnessed being those old laughing and jeering, cheering men of Lumpinee Boxing Stadium who watch and gradually get louder and more cacophonous as the Muay Thai fights edge closer to their final-round conclusion. Many who visit the iconic fighting stadium for the first time note that it’s almost more entertaining to watch the boisterous, leather-skinned gamblers than to watch the two bare-chested men in the middle trade teeps and jabs and knees and elbows, jostling for position with the noise of their own heart pounding in their lungs harder than the stamping feet of the crowd, or the drone of the gyrating ceiling fans.

Well the birds, the Nok Krung Hua Juk-s need to get used to this commotion otherwise they’ll lapse into a quiet and shameful silence as their foe shouts them down and their pleading owner counts his last handful of cash disparagingly.

Then it struck me like a Muay Thai knee, as I listened to my colleague Andrew and a yellow-toothed old Thai banter about property prices behind me and the birds chatter at each other across the soi – I realised that we are all somewhat like this Nok Krung Hua Juk. We all need to find our voice in the commotion that would unsettle us and quiet our resolve. I have been like this bird repetitively in my life. Now more than ever – because now I must return to my home country and start the next phase of my journey unto an occupation doing something I deem meaningful.

This time in South East Asia and the hard and noisy years before have been my time on that motorcycle with my Master – the time draws ever nearer when I must enter the ring and use this voice my experiences have given me. I’m sure we are all the same in this – we need times of commotion and noise to give us a voice. We also need a trustworthy master to take the handle bars and guide us through the noise and then when we are loud enough, to put us toe-to-toe against the sort of challenges that make lives worth living, and metaphors worth making.

** Writers note: I promised the internet and myself long ago that I would post some Sci-fi “flash fiction” short stories on this eclectic blog of mine. Well it has taken way longer than it should have for me to get anything up. This small piece should hopefully start a trend of more stories to come. 

This specific piece is just an idea that came out of the ether as I tapped away in a coffee shop earlier this year, when I write it’s usually not planned – not at first anyway. I tend to come up with my best stuff when I stop thinking and planning and just let my fingers go on the rapatap rhythm of the keyboard. A stream-of-consciencness sort of process. I get the same feeling when I do this as that when I’m rocking a set of drums and when I’m blazing an electric guitar – the tactile rhythm, the unthinking reactions relying on a consciousness deeper than what is placed on the surface for observation at other times – such as in conversation.

Take this for what it is, an idea – with no pretense. And if you are able – enjoy it and let it inspire ideas in you. You also may not understand what I’m getting at with it. That’s ok, I’m not sure yet either . **

Meta-gods

Agromorphus awoke to the sounds of anarchy. Nothing new here. his father was releasing his rage in the form of targeted psychological mass hysterias in the people of the Araes. Agromorphus could guess what had triggered this rage – some illogical meandering of some misfortunate fool down on the planet surface. Who was it this time? Probably Pheminon, the top of the Araestic food chain and the bottom of the planetary cesspool as far as anyone with any concept of dignity could possibly be concerned.

“What is it”, Agromorphus heard his father musing, “that makes it possible for these types to reach such heights of political prosperity when riding on such whimsy life-boat principles? Their very words the holes which sink their platforms of thought in the ocean of all that makes real sense. Springing leaks like a sieve out at sea. This man is an intellectual sieve – empty for 95% of his life. Only able to hold onto something worth anything for a few moments. Then empty again.”

Arepergus ended his rant with one last poke at the Araens with his long, crooked index finger – the people in Araes responding in madness. Arepergus had power over sanity – a cruel joke initiated by his father before him. Arepergus had the gift of understanding, the ability to know truth fully, he sailed it’s expanses as an old captain does the ocean, his curse was to ever guard the gates to the sea of sense from “those who would piss in it with their blunt ideas”, as he was apt to say to Agromorphus, his son and heir.

Agromorphus was a younger being. Having only sythesised into being a few decades ago. What his role in this hyper-world he and the other gods resided in was still uncertain to him, though his father seemed to know where sense would take him…

**writer’s note, I am pleased and proud to call you, dear-reader’s attention to my friend TUE once again with regard to Science fiction. His first published sci-fi short story is soon to be available for public scrutiny in an anthology of African Science Fiction called AfroSF– check out his blog and the fb page for information.**

If I were to define myself with a single word, I’d hardly pause before making my choice: ‘Introspection’. I feel that this is often my greatest strength, and a great vice at other times. It’s hard to say sometimes whether it’s a good or a bad thing. I have spent the past 2 months more introspective than anything else. What being in this state means though is that everything I think and do remains internal and this is a vice to the blogger. I was struck by the thought today that no thought, not matter how grand, is worth anything in the end if it remains uncommunicated. More so then for the less grand thought, which may take on some worth when it is taken outside of the singular mind and put into the public domain. This last thought prompted me to try and take what has been going on in my world over the past 2 months and put it down through the keyboard before me.

What follows is an attempt to take as many of my thoughts and experiences and the information I’ve consumed whilst being overly introspective and put it down in a code widely used and recognised as English characters and language (an old fascination of mine is that we as humans can so effortlessly interpret alphabetical code on the fly).

I have gone through a few obsessions over the past 2 months, one was the careful watching and analysis of debates between the most widely known Atheists in the world, known as the four horsemen of the New Atheism and numerous Christian opponents. The four horsemen being Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris and Daniel Dennett. The two Christians opponents were William Lane Craig and John Lennox. I watched many debates available online between these characters taking careful note of the arguments and pausing the videos every now and then to think about my response to questions and attacks and to think about what questions I would raise. What I love about these debates is the iconoclastic intellectual ballet it produces as two above average intelligent and well educated gentlemen engage in a careful but instinctual battle of minds. Testing the steel of their minds against each others, as I watch I can almost literally see the concepts dancing around as if a great ballet in my mind (another facination: the connection between dance and combat/marshal arts – enter capoeira). These debates also show that no single-disciplined approach is sufficient to explore the topics of metaphysics, one needs biology, mathematics, physics, psychology, chemistry and philosophy. However I believe that philosophy has the greatest hand of all of these academic offerings in answering these questions. Physics may be the ‘hardest’ of the sciences (psychology being the ‘softest’) but Philosophical ideas such as logic govern the most fundamental laws of physics.

One can find a very good list of debates free on the web here. I encourage you to take a look. These debates and arguments will seldom convince anyone of either stand point but what they do do for atheists and christians alike is to show that there is a deep integrity to the belief in the christian God, which has become the trend to deny allegedly in lieu of science.

In summary, some of the outstanding moments from these debates:
1) Richard Dawkins admitting to John Lennox that he was wrong in his book (The God Delusion) and in fact the Jesus of the bible emphatically did exist.
2) The late Christopher Hitchens being unable to offer a single refutation of any of W.L. Craig’s arguments for the explicit existence of the christian God through 3 rounds, ending in his forfeiting of his final chance at rebuttal/response to Craig.
3) Sam Harris adopting a fallacious stance of hostile ad hominem in his debate with Craig and again not responding to any of Craig’s arguments. I also seemed to me that he took a disrespectful stance of below the belt tactics, trying to shift the focus of the debate to topics and ends not helpful to the audience or his opponent. It seemed to me that he simply stalled the entire debate away.
4) The absolute refusal of Dawkins to ever debate Craig 1 on 1, this decision put him into a storm of hate mail and public slander from his atheist colleagues in Oxford and abroad. There is a summary of this story on YouTube here.

The next of my obsessions is still strong. I have been consuming a steady stream of documentaries on topics ranging from The cannibalism of ex-soldiers in Liberia to the Scientific truth behind losing weight to the truth behind Bodybuilding. I returned to the productions of my favourite Gonzo Journalist, the well known Louis Theroux from the BBC. I first discovered his documentaries when I happened to be up at around 10pm on a holiday night. A Louis Theroux documentary was showing, I think it was on “The most hated family in America”, it turned out to be a Louis Theroux festival and so I watched documentary after documentary until around 5am the next morning. I discovered this past month that there are a wealth of free documentaries available on the web, here are some of the best websites to access them in order of preference:
http://www.documentaryheaven.com
http://watchdocumentary.com/all_documentaries/
http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/watch-online/
http://www.documentarywire.com/watch-online/
http://www.documentarytube.com/
There’s even a great android app that I make a lot of use of available here.

Some of the highlights:
1) In the cannibalism of Liberia doc (available on YouTube here) the documentary takes a sudden unexpected (even to the makers) turn when they become captivated by the intriguing redemption story of General Butt-Naked. A man who once notorious in Liberia, used to fight naked with his men as he and his followers believed that this combined with the execution and consuming of an innocent child would make them invincible. He describes to the cameras how he used to sit on his ‘throne’ beside the dirty street with his troop crouching around him, he would capture an innocent child and cut open their back and pull their heart from their living body and share it with his men. At this point the story suddenly takes a turning point when he describes the moment he stopped these practices. He says he had just finished this ritual and his men were out collecting water, they were almost back when he heard someone calling his name from behind him “Butt naked! But naked!!”. He turned around and saw a man and a woman in white, the light was radiating though the man and it was “as bright as the sun”.
This man said to him “my son, why are you slaving?”
Butt Naked thought to himself “I’m not a slave!” and replied “In this whole territory I am the king, I’m supposed to be a king!”
and the man said “you’re right in saying that you’re supposed to be a king, but you’re living like a slave”
Butt Naked replied and said “I don’t understand what you mean”
and the man said to him “I mean, repent and live or refuse and die”.
The man and woman disappeared and he went into battle but his pistol didn’t work and he “was afraid for the first time”. Now words by themselves don’t mean much but the documentary changed direction now and followed General Butt Naked. At the time of the documentary he was now not a general anymore but a caring missionary, travelling around preaching the gospel and running a shelter for former child soldiers. Honestly coming across as a gentle and honest man. He was transparent about his evils but clearly ashamed of them and no longer held in guilt by them, redeemed. He had also been exonerated and forgiven of his war crimes by the country. Draw your own conclusions but it sound like he had a run in with Jesus like Saul in the the book of Acts in the bible. It’s a story that is hard to ignore.
Skip to 32 minutes to hear this story first hand.

image

General Butt Naked interview

** end of part one. See next post for more thoughts.

**Writer’s note: What follows are some thoughts directly transcribed from one of my favourite moleskin notebooks that I carry around and record my thoughts, questions and ideas in and in italics are my current thoughts on the transcription. These are mostly curiosities that may or may not end up as longer posts in the future. I have a stack of molskins, the following excerpts are only about 30% of one of them. I hope to use more of them with more finesse later.

I am curious: what was the attitude of the early christians and general educated public (pre-Athenasias) toward the scriptures (before the canon was constructed)?

I realise that a rational belief doesn’t quite cut it for tough situations. A purely rational belief doesn’t go far enough, only a belief coupled with faith goes far enough to bring relief and peace when we run into trouble too big for us.
** I have been slowly reading through Romans, and chapter 7 specifically from the message version comes to mind with regard to the comment above.

Why is it that I continue to go to church at all? To continue to be encouraged to believe.
** A friend of mine TUE and I call ourselves and others like us coffee-shop christians. The kind of christian that often doesn’t feel comfortable in a normal Sunday church service. I realise that church serves (among a few others) the following purposes:
– fellowship: being in contact with other believers who can support and understand your world view.
– edification: being put into contact with good solid teachings on the fundamentals and complexities of the christian faith.
– service: being in a community that helps to put you to work practicing your faith so as to have a well rounded faith – practical and theoretical for the sake of a respectable (and not hypocritical) pursuit of truth.
– preaching: a place to preach the truth of Jesus Christ to those who have not yet heard or grasped it so that they might begin their own pursuit of it.

What this year has taught me (2011):
– I am smart; I enjoy teaching; I like robots; I miss fighting; I like assignments not tests; faith > belief; I can do this romantic relationship thing.
** I doubted for a long time whether I was actually capable of maintaining a mature and good romantic relationship. 9 months with theillustratedwriter.blogspot.com have taught me that I can.

On post FINAL DESIGN dissatisfaction: one has to learn to focus on the things that one has done right. You can’t; and it’s too easy to focus on the mistakes. Even though there are so many things that are/were correct.
** A note on human nature I think. Surely this must be adopted into any successful human philosophy – obtaining the ability to consider the mistakes and dwell on the successes instead of the opposite. Does Christianity preach this? I think so – the concept of the grace of God deals with this.

Below are my notes from the planning for the predating outing on which I hoped to impress the illustrator:

image

** it worked

How to write music? What way works for me? Do I start with guitar or words?
** I must still discover the answers to this. I only have one song with both lyrics and words. The words came after the music. A lot of acoustic guitar (as opposed to electric) and practice with singing this year (2012) has helped a lot.

Humility = accepting other people’s flaws.
** Not one’s own.

On challenging people to improve upon a flaw: this is good but making them feel bad is not alright. Maybe it is? But how do we/I balance this art? Show acceptance? How?
** This is a question that should come up for any leader. Part of the answer may be found in Hebrews 12 with regard to discipline being painful for the moment but reaping the final result of righteousness.

Humility, shyness and fear. How are they related? Shyness – there is pride in this too.

Should we be careful to have less regard for people as well as more regard for God. Are these directly inproportional?

So what if you gain the whole world (like professorship and academics) but/and lose your soul? Do I follow Wilke or Ingles or Jesus?

Some thoughts on meaning in life:
Ravi:
– Wonderment
– people/friends/family

Frankl:
– love of a person
– hope for a future something
– an activity to keep one occupied
(All of these are items based in the future)

** CS Lewis: Don’t be too concerned with the future or the past because neither exist such that one may be lead astray from reality based truth. What about time transcendent truths (those which are based in the future but we know them to be true now) like Frankl’s hope and Ravi’s wonderment? These become present tense. Hope of a future something is only edifying then when it is an assured hope. Christianity calls faith “the assurance of what is hoped for”.

The role of relationship? A helper. Someone to pursue life with.
**A partner in the pursuit of all life has to offer.

Notes from Thesis work in Mechanical Engineering final year:

image

The end of the world: should we fear it as christian?
** I am still unsure of the answer to this. We should be nervous but confident. When the day comes we will be in awe. Neither/both fearful and full of joy. Our Lord and saviour will be returning – but we will face judgement in the face of his glorious and frightening perfection. Judgement founded on grace toward us who have come to him in need though. So awe rather than fear I think.

* Note from the Author: these are merely my thoughts. Some of them not put together or explained all that well. Read with grace.*

Readers, supporters, friends, family, internet trolls: I am off on a journey to South East Asia. Welcome. Here are my thoughts:

The idea snuck up on me like a ninja in the night. I’m not sure when I first began to dream of travelling to the East. It may have begun when I read a book by Sam Sheridan who travelled across the globe learning the fighting trade. Boxing in the USA, Brazilian Jui-jitsu in South America, wrestling in Russia, Tai Chi in China, Muay Thai in Thailand.

It may also have been the Kung Fu movies I love – crouching tiger, hidden dragon; The forgotten kingdom. It may have been spurred on by my love for martial arts and my training in Kickboxing (etc).

Mostly though – I think it was a fascination with their philosophy. Eastern philosophy has something to it that it’s western cousin just can’t quite capture. Something spiritual, something beyond logical constructs which paradoxically form illogical constraints that dull the honest search for wisdom. A wisdom beyond ontological argument and Niche scepticism. Eastern philosophy at it’s best is the oasis in the desert of the western paradigm.

Now I stand ready to take this single step so as to begin my journey of a thousand miles. Confucius would be proud. My visa is in the works, my airplane tickets are bought and payed for, the money I’ll need for this mission is raised… Just one month from now, I am off.

I will be travelling with my own philosophy into a completely new world drenched in the philosophies of a different sort to those I’ve grown up around. My philosophy is a christian one. The philosophy as taught by Jesus of Nazareth – as such; I go with a mission to make His glory known, simply through living as a man moved by His truth, glory, love and hope. I will be involved in education in Singapore and Thailand through local churches and mission organisations. In Singapore I will help to teach and influence Vietnamese School students and in Thailand I will offer myself as an aid for Thai students to learn conversation skills in English.

There is more though.

I think I have one very specific calling (among others)- to write. Not necessarily right now (I am not wise enough or skilled enough just yet), but one day – I must fulfil this mandate to write of what I discover – mixing experience, philosophy, apologetics, politics, history, science, technology and theology. I must discover the essence of Buddhist transcendence and Hindu fragmentation and learn to apply Christian truth to Buddhist culture and Hindu practices. If Jesus isn’t applicable in all places – he isn’t applicable at all. I must learn and apply different perspectives, like filters, to this analysis of Christ and his message so as to free my philosophy of the peripheral and base it on the essential. I believe the whole truth is right here in the bible – but it is clarified when one applies and examines it across contexts – therefore I must make an effort to experience other contexts. I believe the truth of the gospel is applicable to all people and across all contexts – but to demonstrate this I must widen my understanding of the world and it’s people. I feel as if God has something to show me, some story for me to discover and some perspective to gain from which to write about it. To a large extent that is what this trip is about. An investment into preparing myself for the work I must do for the kingdom of God and for the kingdom of the world as time takes me on this train ride onwards through my life.

“Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning is perilous.” – Confucius.
“And this is the judgment, that the light is come into the world and men loved the darkness rather than the light; for their deeds were evil” – John 3v19.
“Again therefore Jesus spoke to them, saying “I am the light of the world; he who follows me shall not walk in darkness but shall have the light of life”” -John 8v12

Please stand with me in prayer and support as I go off in this light to discover and learn;

Regards,
Jeremy (aka Jack Figure)

* Note from the author: this note talks of topics not yet fully resolved in my own mind, and may be retracted or edited in the future, please approach it with due grace. It covers sensitive topics and I have somewhat skirted around a few areas related to my arguments. Sometimes in searching for truth one must abandon comfort and force oneself to begin to form an opinion and this is my public attempt at doing so *

I work in a field that I enjoy where I can also make a difference in other people’s lives – and I do this from the perspective of my life philosophy – which is based on the teachings of Jesus. I am no militant evangelist but a philosopher and a man in search of truth, so when I come across a person in a distressful situation – I give encouragement and advice based on the philosophy I live by – sometimes this means advising people to seek God

This is the premise from which I understand evangelism at this point in my life. Evangelism is such a dirty word these days. Understandably so. Most evangelism – or at least the type that most people (of whatever persuasion) are exposed to is a closed minded endeavour to bully or provoke a listener into abandoning all they have ever known for something alien and seemingly harsh.

When the message of Jesus comes across as unfairly harsh and closed minded I believe something has gone wrong in relating it. However – there is danger in avoiding this line of thinking too, and I come now to one of the toughest questions in christiondom today:

Can I be a christian and open minded at the same time? Does being a christian mean that I must close my mind to whatever else and become what I protest to hate: closed-minded?

What do you think? I think we tread on sensitive ground and a part of me wants not to go on exploring this question for fear of the stern words I may receive. A quote comes to mind though:

“There is nothing so self defeating as a question that has not been fully understood when it has been fully posed”: Ravi Zacharias quoting CS Lewis

What this statement gets at is that the inquiring mind must first set adequate and appropriate foundations and devices in place before attempting to answer profundities with due eloquence and sensitivity.

It is important to realise that one does not sacrifice open mindedness by holding onto certain philosophies and ideas. Every person has a perspective from whose balcony they look upon the world. Without a perspective that one firmly holds onto, one is blind. And to be blind is to be closed minded.

What I have come to believe is that though it requires a delicate application of wisdom, one can in fact be open minded and hold on to one specific and exclusive perspective or philosophy simultaneously – on one condition:

The exclusive philosophy to which one holds must allow for the free will of others and hold that each individual is only responsible ultimately for them self.

Where evangelism seems to go wrong and cause hurt is where the evangelist denies the free will of him he evangelises and wrongly assumes a greater responsibility than he is fairly due for the listener’s life and beliefs. I believe that when correctly done; it is the role of the evangelist to provide and present argument, persuasion, doctrine freely as being what he believes. He should do so with conviction and passion – for passion is stirred by true belief. But – this is where his responsibility ends. He may even pray for the patron of his conversation but he must leave it then to them to ponder and act or act not.

Within the christian worldview – what follows humane and godly evangelism is a matter between God and an individual.

Being open minded means accepting that people believe what they believe – it does not mean rejecting what you already believe or feeling under obligation to reject it. One should be ready to give a thought to someone else’s beliefs and weigh them up against their own but refusing to adopt someone else’s beliefs does not make one closed minded.

Jesus was sure and uncompromising in who he was (God incarnate) and in what he believed to be true, and he stated it in no uncertain terms – but he was open minded, listening to the arguments of others before questioning them and stating his own.

If  being a christian did in fact call me to become closed minded and bigoted it would in fact be a case of “Missionary Impossible” for me.

It is from a careful, confident and open minded approach like this that people become receptive to arguments on matters of such sensitivity and importance, approach people in any other way and you will misrepresent the gospel and our God – for our God is one of love, compassion and wisdom, as well as of justice and holiness.

I think that a life well lived is one in which someone seeks God and finds peace in a life given over to Jesus. Heed my words, I believe them to be true and critical, but take it upon yourself to bring them further or leave them here.

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