epiphany

The Last Few Days

The Plowing of the Wicked

I have a housemate who drives me mad. He is the entire reason that I am moving next month. If irresponsibility were a cardinal sin, he would be heading for the lowest pits of hell.

A few weeks ago someone asked me what I had learned from living with this housemate. All I could say at the time was, "I don't want to have three housemates." However, this morning I came to another realization.

Proverbs 21:4 says, "An high look, and a proud heart, and the plowing of the wicked, is sin." While I've heard people quote it on occasion, I've never quite known how to take the statement. But now I think I'm starting to understand.

My housemate does not often sin against me directly. Rarely has he been openly rude to me. He generally stays out of the way. I hardly ever interact with him. Yet all of my interaction, my entire view of him, is tainted by his irresponsibility. He leaves his bags, toys (yes, toys), and clothes strewn about the house. He leaves the kitchen counters covered with crumbs, jelly, and peanut butter. He does not rinse his dishes. He does not put his dishes in the dishwasher. Dishes will disappear for weeks on end only to reappear from the bowels of his extraordinarily messy room. He does not do anything to take care of the rest of the house. He does not pay his bills on time. Despite our talks with him and his apparent (and repeated) intent to change, he does not.

My view of this housemate is so tainted by who he is, who his actions have revealed him to be, that he can do no good in my sight. I hear someone thunk his way down the stairs at four in the morning, and I know it's him. I walk into the house and see things strewn about, and I immediately assume he left another mess. I see or hear him rummaging through the refrigerator, and I expect a mess and think ill of him. On the rare occasions when he actually does put his dishes in the dishwasher, I still find fault (he has little or no concept of order and the way things fit). I hear him breathe (he has this loud, puffy breathing), and I think ill of him. His actions may not be wrong or inherently sinful. Some of them are actually good and necessary. But due to his relationship with me, due to his revelation of himself over the past six months, everything he does is wrong. It is, in a very real sense, an offense. His plowing is sin in my eyes.

So it is with all the wicked and God. A person's acts may not be inherently sinful: plowing is not evil. The sin is in the relationship. Wickedness brings with it detest. Wickness is a form of character, and it is natural to each of us. It is a state of being, a state that renders all action to be sinful, whether or not that action is necessary or even good. Being wicked in God's sight taints all actions with sin. The only escape and relief from condemnation is to be in Christ, appropriating all of his genuine goodness through his gift of faith.

I do not claim to be innocent. My own dislike (even hatred) is a sin of its own. I am undoubtly the one with the high look and proud heart. I reveal my own disbelief by not loving the brother I can see. But if you ask me what I've learned from this housing situation, I will tell you that I've begun to see how the plowing of the wicked is sin.

That, and I don't want to have three housemates.

Golden Gardens et al

The first flowers are from Golden Gardens, a beach near my current residence. The others are blooming in front of the house. The pipes are a friend's who restores and sells them. The sunset is back to Golden Gardens. I went down for a church get together last night.

Money, Money, Money

Living in Seattle can be quite discouraging. Housing prices are terrible, and they continue to get worse.

I'm currently living in what the owner advertises as a four bedroom house but the city would consider a one or two bedroom. It's small. It has no closets. And frankly, it needs a lot of work. Back in Wisconsin, you might be able to get $80,000 for it ($90,000 on a good day; maybe $120,000-$140,000 in Madison or Milwaukee).

They're advertising it for $350,000.

Worse yet, TONS of people are coming by to see it.

One bedroom apartments rent for as much as a house payment in some cities. $800-$900 per month is not unusual if you want to have a place to park your car. Downtown, that price would be excellent for a studio with no parking.

One bedroom condos are selling for $200,000. And don't let the word "condo" make you think of a nice, multi-story, multi-unit dwelling with a tended yard and other amenities. Condos here are not the same as in the midwest. Here, a condo refers to an apartment that you buy, with the added burden of monthly update fees ("dues").

As a not-quite-so-young person (at least at heart) not making a tremendous amount of money per year, I can't see how I could ever afford a house here. It's undoubtedly my midwestern mind, but the idea of west coast "condo" life repulses me, and I have no interest in buying a house with the knowledge that I'll be needing renters for the next thirty to forty years to cover the payments. While I like my friends and am building a social network here, I don't see how I can stay for long. I can't imagine what the responsibility would be like if I were married.

Ugh.

Samples

My camera arrived yesterday, safe and sound. It is indeed a brand new U.S. model with the extra accessories I ordered. I'm happy to recommend Beach Camera for your camera shopping needs. The camera prices are great, but you ought to do some research on the accessories just to be safe.

Anyway, as promised, here's a picture of the new shoes. I left the camera on automatic everything, so they're a bit overexposed. But you'll get the idea.

And just to show off my 8 megapixels (because I'm very, very excited about them), here's a shrunk-down photo of a flower from my front yard. In real life, the flower is just under 2cm wide. The first photo will give you an idea of what the shot originally looked like, although the file is rather compressed. The second is a straight crop from the original photo--no changing of resolution, no color or sharpening adjustments. In shooting, the only setting I changed from factory default was to use the Super Macro setting so that I could focus that closely. The camera recorded the shot as a moderately compressed JPEG.

I'm a happy boy. I can't wait to try out a higher quality JPEG setting and the TIFF and RAW file modes. :-)

Batman Began

Despite my best efforts (or lack of effort, really), I've attended the opening weekends of two of the summer's "important" (aka "big budget") movies. I saw Star Wars at the last minute, and yesterday afternoon a friend treated me to Batman Begins.

I will grudgingly say that, yes indeed, this is the best of the Batman movies--even better than the first one. I say "grudgingly" because I do like the first movie quite a bit. I like Tim Burton's style in the film. I liked Michael Keaton as Batman (though Christian Bale is far more believable physically and is probably a better actor overall). And I love Elfman's original score, which the new Batman definitely doesn't top.

Batman Begins in some ways, with a split personality. The first half of the movie is excellent. It's strongly character driven, and Bruce Wayne's development from fear to vengeance to the fridge of vigilanteism and justice is both fascinating and convincing. It's when he puts on the mask that the film starts to fall apart.

I don't know if it's an actual design issue, if it was a lighting issue, or if my tastes have simply changed over the years, but the Batman mask in this movie was far too--dare I say it?--comic bookish. Overdone semi-organic angular is not my cup of tea.

If there is a definable weakness to the film, it is the inherent nature of comic book adventures. Even at their more realistic, super hero comics are fanciful. We approach them as fantasy, and they offer us a period of adventure and escape. The best ones offer us insight into our our hearts and relationships. While Batman Begins offered plenty of solid philosophy and adventure, the first half and the ending contrasted too strongly. The character study, though full of mystery and adventure, placed us in a world of slightly exaggerated realism, a world common to nearly every movie. When the fantasy kicked into high gear with the donning of the mask, the psychological realism had to stretch too far. While it did indeed stretch, it stretched thin and began to feel rather limp after a while. The first Batman felt more consistent. While that movie certainly stretched reality, stretched it from the beginning. In an odd twist from expectation, the sudden, prepared stretch of Burton's Batman plays better than than Mr. Nolan's slowly growing one, one that eventually begins splitting its seams.

Overall, the acting was excellent. Michael Caine makes a wonderful Alfred. Rachel, the innocent idealist of an assistant DA, comes across well. Liam Neeson was a convincingly dark mysterious helper and teacher. And Christian Bale performed Bruce Wayne sincerely enough that you could forget he was acting. He became Bruce Wayne. Again, maybe it was the mask (talk about an impediment to serious acting), but his Batman wasn't as good as his Bruce Wayne. His grating "disguised" voice kept the music major part of me cringing, "He's going to get nodes!" Apart from the voice and the mask, Bale played the edgy psychosis of the character well. With the Gotham police, the audience often wonders if this batman is a savior or Satan.

The film explored the nature of who we really are, why we do what we do, and how our actions (or lack thereof) affect those around us. In what I'm hoping is the continuing toll of the death knell for popular post-moderism (the first ringing of which sounded in The Incredibles), the the film emphasized that it's not who you are inside but what you do that matters. In a culture so steeped in the narcissism of self-esteem that it's about to drown in its own watery reflection, this revelation that deeds and choices determine who we are and who we become certainly introduces ripples to the looking pool, if not downright waves.

Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard's score was of the typical brooding super hero variety--nothing particularly memorable or unusual, which means that it competently served its function as an underscore. It did have some fascinating moments, though. At one point in particular, I couldn't figure out whether I was hearing slowly rolling thunder or music. As the thunder continued, it assumed a rhythm and became the music. Brilliant. I'm still not sure if the composers used a recording of thunder or if it was a combination of drums and low instruments.

The special effects were well done overall. Some were downright cool. The opening title (if you can call it that) was masterful, as was Batman's call for backup.

My final complaint is with the level of violence in the second half of the film. The way Batman drives while trying to escape from the police and save Rachel's life, he did indeed become a menace to society. Alfred sees the chase on television and comments angrily that "It's a wonder no one was killed." Indeed, it is downright unbelievable that no one was killed. Again, the violence of the second half contrasts against the first. While Bruce Wayne's path to becoming the Batman is violent, the action either propels the story or reveals and proves character. However, as the villains move to sack Gotham, the director force feeds the audience explosion after explosion after explosion until we drown in an ocean of visual and auditory cacophony.

So why, after all that complaining, is this the best of the Batman movies? Character, character, character. Despite the flaws of the second half, the first half comes off so seriously and brilliantly that it still shines. The other Batman movies feature Batman reacting, a hero defending his city from the forces of evil and/or lunacy. This movie is about Batman himself. The Batman himself is a force. The Batman himself straddles sanity and madness. The Batman, trained by evil (or strict justice), must choose how he will use his training. Will he too follow strict justice, becoming not only judge and jury but executioner? Or will he follow the hero's prayer and pattern?

"In wrath, remember mercy." (Habakkuk 3:2)

Shoes & Hot Shoes

This morning I discovered some huge cracks along the soles of my favorite work shoes. They're Clarks, and I've had them for two- or three-and-a-half years. I tend to be pretty hard on shoes, what with walking a minimum of two miles on concrete per weekday (three is probably a true average). I used to wear out the soles on a pair of shoes every semester in college, which is why I finally switched to more expensive shoes. Clarks may cost twice as much as Timberlands or other brands, but they last me around six time as long.

I had built up a good amount of extra hours at work over the past two weeks, so I took half of the afternoon to go shoe (and camera--but that comes in later) hunting. Alas, only Macy's carried the appropriate style of Clarks, and their largest pair was half-a-size too small. I hemmed and hawed, considered some Ecco's (too expensive for the business-appropriate styles), longed for some Mephisto's (WAY too expensive, but holy cow . . .), and headed home with nothing but my sadly splitting Clarks.

After arriving home, I hopped in my car and headed to the closest mall, hoping that I could find those nice Clarks at its Macy's. I stopped in Nordstrom's first. They had a decent selection of shoes, though very few Clarks, and a very helpful and courteous salesman (Joe, who deserves a raise or a promotion--preferably both). He casually brought out not only the dark brown pair of Kenneth Cole shoes I had asked for but also the same pair in black, the updated (and $30 more expensive) model, and a sale pair of casual sneakers. Tempting as the updated models were, I had them hold the original pair of shoes while I checked out other stores. The service and selection elsewhere were embarrassing. I headed back to Nordstrom's, tried on the shoes again, bought them, and thanked Joe for his help.

On top of that unexpected expense, I finally bought something else I've been studying for quite a while. After much ado, I've ordered an 8 megapixel Olympus C-8080. I've been studying 8MP cameras on DP Review for quite some time. I had given up on buying one, figuring I'd settle for a 5 or 7MP point-and-shoot, when one of their site retailers started advertizing the C-8080 for well under $500. I found one at a local camera store today and tried it out. I've learned that no digital camera is perfect, but this one has nearly all the features I want. The zoom could be a bit longer, but I tend to shoot wide anyway. The wide lens, good macros, tilting screen, sturdy build, and fast response outweigh most telephoto disadvantages as far as I'm concerned, especially when the next model I was considering (and didn't like as much) cost about $400 more.

I also spent a good deal of time researching the selling company since I hadn't heard of them before. They seem reputable, and their description guaranteed that the cameras are brand new US models (something to watch for when ordering a camera online; non-US cameras may not carry a valid warranty). For those interested in the C-8080 from a more well-known dealer, it's currently on clearance at Walmart.com. The must-be-absolutely-safe side of me almost bought it there, but after working things out (aka: price) and my investigation, I decided to go with Beach after all.

I'll be sure to keep you updated as to how the online camera shopping turned out.

And if it ends nicely, I'll post a picture of my new, just-a-little-too-trendy-for-moderate-Jonathan's-comfort shoes.

Sit and Stare

I don't know the man who took this photo, but since he felt free to post it on the Mars Hill members' site, and I'm in it (and actually helped him with it, whether or not he realizes it), I figured I could post it on my site.

I saw him taking the photo before one of the services at the men's weekend (thingy) started. Since the room was fairly dim, I thought, "I'll just hold still and stare at his camera. I bet I'll be clear and the rest of the people blurry."

It's nice to know that it worked. It's also interesting that I look like a bad Photoshop job, cut and pasted into the scene.

(For those who care, the guy beside me is Drew.)

Wars, Men, Mac, Millions, and Monty

Two weeks ago (opening weekend, of all things), I went to see the final installment of Star Wars. I didn't get a chance to write about it then, and I've forgotten enough that it probably isn't worth me making much comment here. However, apart from several moments of exceptional cheese and the ever-miserable Star Wars dialogue, the movie is quite good. It brings an interesting sense of closure to the series.

I then spent last weekend at Warm Beach Camp for my church's annual men's retreat, which they have decided is an "advance," not a "retreat." In the interest of avoiding semantical wars on the lead up to the weekend, I opted to call it "the men's thingy." Some of it was good; some of it was not so good for me. I did take lots of flower pictures, and I'm hoping to post some soon. Our house internet connection has been frighteningly slow lately. Coupling that with not spending a lot of time posting means that photos stay few and far between.

Following along the computer front, I updated to the newest version of OS X this week. I haven't explored too thoroughly yet, but I really like the new dashboard feature. It's dictionary has been particularly helpful already. I'm sure some of the other features will come into play as I look around some more, but that one alone is a fairly good reason to upgrade.

Friday night one of my housemates and I went to see Millions at the budget theater. It's a well-told story of a little boy who collects saints like baseball cards, to paraphrase one review. Little Damian Cunningham knows more about Catholic saints than probably any living person. And he should, as he happens to chat with them on a regular basis. Throw in a death in the family, a sudden fortune, and a robbery, and you've got the makings of an extremely enjoyable film. I relate frighteningly well with Damien (not in the seeing and chatting with saints thing). He just has an attitude that fits very naturally with me, an attitude that I had for many years and wish I could find again. Millions is more or less a family film, although I'd recommend that parents see it before taking their children due to a few scenes (one involving an older brother and the internet, one involving the father and his new girlfriend, and a couple of scary sections).

To cap off the weekend, what should I find Saturday but a sale on the collector's edition DVD of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I had forgotten just how funny sparrows and coconuts can be.