Thursday, December 30, 2004
Brown had to work today so he gave us the car. I was backing the Blazer in the parking garage when I heard this crunch. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the back end in a concrete pillar. I parked it and saw a big dent in the bumper. I was buggin out. You know it's not everyday that you beat your buddy's car up.
We (Nick and I) had planned on washing his car and cleaning it up to serve Brown. Then after I knocked his bumper out of wack, all the good we had planned to do for Brown now looked like we were laying it on thick. Brown's car was gross. He had everything from rotting crap on a butterknife to pink scrunchies thrown all over his car. And just for the record, McDonald's french fries don't rot. After we vaccummed it and washed it, we went to the mall. This is going to sound lame, but we got a great deal on some pimped out shoes at the mall and we picked up Brown a pair too, so we all had pimped out shoes.... Yeah, now it really sounds like I was trying to lay it on thick. But I wasn't.... Honest.
We picked up Brown from work when he was done. He shrugged it off when I told him. Obviously, I thought it was odd. Real odd, but I was thankful and was glad to let it go. REAL GLAD. He let me simmer for a while then told me that the dent was already in the bumper. The freakin' dent was already there! Already there! Unbelievable! Now it looks like I was trying to suck up. There's no way to make this look good. Props to Brown, you're a punk.
Monday, December 20, 2004
I have to thank my Bengals for their athleticism this past weekend. Normally they look like they have a chance of winning so I watch at least part of the game. This past weekend however, they lost straight out of the box, proving that we’re the second worst team in the NFL, only outdone by the Browns, and they’re going to have a new coach next year.
I’m sure all the guys out there are still looking to complete their shopping for the holidays. Women tell me it’s because we procrastinate so much. I have a different theory. Men hate shopping. We hate it so much we’ll do just about anything to not do it. By anything, I mean we’ll do anything that’s more entertaining, such as watching tv, playing video games (another form of watching tv), working on our computers (another form of watching something tv like), watching movies (watching tv), and sleeping (yet another form of watching tv). Don’t get me wrong, I think everyone should do things besides watching tv, but in general that’s what most middle class Americans seem to do with their free time. Even I myself on break find that I’m drawn to the picture box. I think it’s a scary thing when people spend so much time looking at a box. What will we think when we’re about to die? Will we be glad that we watched so much? Will we feel that we had no choice in the matter? I understand, sometimes I feel trapped and doomed to watch it somehow. I think in part I’ve become Pavlov’s dog. I think of relaxing and almost immediately watching tv comes to mind. It’s weird but too true for me. Woah, that’s a rant…. anyway, Guys, remember Walgreens is just down the street and if you hurry now it’s probably not busy, but don’t wait until Friday, because then even Kmart will be packed. And remember, we’re forgetting the real meaning of Christmas.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
In other news, I’m heading to Dayton for the next six weeks to try and scrape a few pennies together to pay for the next session of school. God is faithful.
And lastly in a protest to the school’s horrible furniture in our specific wing of the dorms (and in the other wings for that matter), we switched our dumpy 1970s junk out with the good furniture (complete with lower back support) they’re trying to show off at the entrance to our building. They’ve asked us to move it back around twice, so we did, partly (I'm going to be difficult at least for a while). Sometimes schools don’t make sense. Why put the best furniture where people don’t sit and the bad stuff where you do? I guess it’s good they’ve got an engineer in the wings now (gotta love us punky first year students).
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away there were three little bears: Arlo, Blade, Mace and the General. Ok, so it was really four little bears, but we're going to call it three little bears because four little bears just isn't catchy. The three little bears were a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These bears promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Bearas underground. Still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If a someone has a problem, if no one else can help, and if they can find them, maybe they can hire the B-Team.
Arlo was standing in line at Circle-K buying Jiffy Pop, when the General got the call over the walkie talkie. A young woman was crying. The problem seemed to be epic in proportion, beyond the reaches of the law, it would take the these soliders of fortune to bring resolution. They set up a meeting, 10:30 pm on Tuesday at the Sonic Burger to discuss the details. At 10:35pm they circled Sonic for the last time, checking for goverment agents. They pulled in and met they their woman, Leslie was her name. She thanked them and began..... (click here to continue)
Friday, November 19, 2004
Saturday, November 13, 2004
At an ‘all you can eat’ buffet such as Golden Corral, you pay a hefty price to eat until your stomach explodes. At our cafeteria it is a more reasonable four bucks. They are banking on people not eating more than one plate to make a profit. This is where I come in. I eat on average somewhere over two plates of food per meal. When Jose sees me he gives me the worst food he can muster up to present. For instance the most burnt burger in the pan or the burnt tops of the meatloaf that’s floating around. He gives me smaller portions than others on average, which is fine; it helps me get to that third and possibly fourth plate. It’s actually a pleasure to be known in this way. I know he cringes when I go up. Don’t worry Jose. I’ll be back. Monday.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Let me continue to explain a presupposition that rocks my face off (that’s for you Matt). It was pointed out to me by Dr. Gordon Fee (who wants you to call him Gordon) of Regent College when he was here last week. Paul, John and the author of Hebrews all presuppose that Jesus was present at the creation of the world as God. None of them felt the need to argue that he was present before the incarnational birth! This is amazing to me as the modern 21st century Christian skeptic. Think about all the things that are meticulously explained throughout the NT and then understanding this presupposition in that light gives us a radical slant. It was obvious to them (authors) to such an extent they didn’t feel the need to explain it. They just presupposed it.
I’m about to presuppose me some dinner, you know what I’m sayin’?
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Saturday, October 30, 2004
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Sunday, October 24, 2004
I most certainly have come across people who I’ve been floored by. They usually have an incredible portion of brains, or they can sing well or everyone seems to be strangely drawn to their personality. These people I see being used in ministry in great ways and I wish for them to step up. On some secret level I think I’ve simply neglected the others from ministry, the ones who don’t have talent seeping out of their very being. I will call them…. normal.
By our very nature I think we elevate some as heroes and ignore the normals and sub-normals. I have been struck by what I believe is God’s deliberate method of not letting us do this very thing. A simple example, I don’t believe God will as readily answer our prayers, until we ask and get the body to pray and help each other. Our individualistic, selfish souls refuse to work together. I have come to the point where I want to pray for tons of people, to do whatever I can for them in love and realize my dependence on the community (God’s provision) for me. When this happens, I see him then act to answer prayers. Not that he won't other times or ways.
Just something that’s striking me.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
In other news, I'm officially looking at Beeson Divinity School for next year. Asbury is great, and I may stay, but part of me in really interested in diversity among faculty & students in the denominational realm as well as having incredibly small classes (12 students to 1 faculty ratio) and they only have 120 M. Div students! It reminds me of Regent in Canada. Sorry no funny posts yet… I’ll work on it.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Friday, October 15, 2004
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
The phone conversations were painful to the end and when it was all said and done she invited me to come visit her church on the other side of Lexington, which I declined. She said she was coming to visit Clay (a guy in my dorm) yesterday, so I told to swing by and I’d say hey. I didn’t see her, I made an honest attempt but in the end I had to eat and go to class yesterday evening.
So we have never met before and I’m ok with it. Ok, actually I’m kind of glad we haven’t. I’m sure she’s a cool girl, but this is not the way to meet people you may want to date in the future. While I’m not opposed to hanging out with her in a group setting, you won’t see the Dumples on any hot dates anytime soon. I’ve made it clear to my friend’s wife that I won’t take numbers she may receive in the future. If she wants to bring a girl to hang out in a group that totally fine. Just let things happen natural. That's all I'm asking. Relationships don't come in test tubes.
Monday, October 04, 2004
In other news great deals of studying on the background of 1 Tim. has shown me that just about everyone has a different interpertation on what the culture of Ephesus should mean to us today. Thankfully, some seem like more of a stretch than others. I'm glad we have as much information as we do.
I'm working on, ok, I hope to shoot a video tour type thing soon so everyone back home can see what this place looks like.... Back to studying for me.
Here's an interesting article you may want to check out.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
I called BestBuy about it to get my phone replaced, and they told me because I stepped on the screen they wouldn't replace it. I wish the guy at the store would have told me that today when I was there instead of saying they would take care of it on the phone (which by the way was a call to India). I don't really want to drive back out to civilization tomorrow to get a new one... But God is good and stepping on your cell phones is bad. Remember that next time your thinking about doing a headstand off of your lounge furnature at 2 in the morning (it was a long Greek study session).
Sunday, September 26, 2004
I've noticed that at most, ok, all the churches I've been to, good worship will mean that I'll have a crummy sermon to follow it up with. In churches that are still acting like church worship was designed to be lived out in the 18th century, the messages are better. Why?
I can't help but believe that somewhere along the lines we've confused the definition of church (enter Dumples' history lesson). I'm guessing it was sometime around the 18th century. Ok, so I'm exaggerating, but not too much, I'm guessing the end of the 18th century. I say the 18th century, because it was at the end of the 1700's when Charles Wesley passed away and with him and his contemporaries went the concept of new music for the church. Enter "I just want to sing the classics" (not wrong, let's just think bigger).
When the music revolution was happening in America in the early 1900s, the mainline denominations didn't go with them, except for some smaller churches who realized the need for relevance to the people around them (judging from my weak knowledge of music history). Eventually in the 1990s non-denominational churches that were using contemporary music were really damaging a lot of the mainlines.
Most non-denominational churches that were/are using contemporary music were actually drawing people's attention who weren't Christians, as well (big shock, relevant music helps people connect? What? We shouldn't use an outdated KJV Bible?!?!). Yes, they use contemporary translations of the Bible too. You know, ones that you can understand, ones that are not translated into Middle English (Gee you mean people want to understand what's going on?). This is similar to the Great Awakining in the sense that they preached to the common people using common language. It is also similar to how the New Testament books were written in that they were written in the common man's language. I think they (non-denominational churches) saw the big need for all these people really seeking after God (that were pouring into their church by the buckets) to know how to become Christians and they changed their curriculum to help people get into a relationship with God. Complete with beginner sermons/preaching on Sundays, which you can find at most non-denominational churches today.
I think this is where all the problems really started to creep up. The thought pretty much went like this, “We’ll gear the Sunday sermon to seekers, and the old believers will be fed on Wednesday nights!” So contemporary churches were pumping out baby believers right and left (baby factories if you will) while the mainline churches were/are struggling with one person realzing the joy of being a Christian a year, but they seem to have an ok retention rate (70%?) of old crusty believers who rarely/never share their faith (which is sick, mind you. If you had the cure for cancer you would tell everyone).
And all is good and well (in the contemporary churches), until the babies grow up, or want to grow up. See, when you make Sundays for seekers/babies, the older Christians can’t very easily grow if you don’t provide meat for them. By meat, I mean present a challenging and edifying enviroment at church for older, more mature believers.
I think essentially we have created yet another division in the body (the holy universal church of Christ), but this one is highly more divisive than previous divisions. See, what we’ve done is made a split between the seekers/baby Christians and the old crusty Christians. The old crusty ones aren’t using their gifts in helping the babies and seekers grow (kind of like not having a mom and dad just a food dispensing machine), and the church for the seekers and babies isn’t conducive for oldies to be fed in (mom and dad don't want to eat Gerber anymore). Thus, the oldies are uncontent at many contemporary churches. Although they do seem to find churches where they can be fed, but these churches seem... boring. We all know the water has to flow in and out of a pond or it gets stagnant, as such so older Christians need to help babies and seekers. And babies/seekers of course go to “hip” churches where they are fed (yeah Gerber!) but will find stunted growth (boo!) and hopefully don’t fall away from the church later disillusioned (I pray they don't just give up, search around if this is you).
So what’s my solution? Make church relevant in worship to babies/seekers and pair them up with older believers who will be fed in the sermon. I don’t believe the pastors primary role is to bring people to Christ on Sunday, I believe the pastor’s job is to equip the body (everyone going to church) to bring people to Christ every day of the week (I mean we all work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week with people who become our friends, and don't you want your friends in on the best thing going?).
But that’s just me (or not). I just want to find a church around here where I can be fed, enjoy relevant worship, and possibly do ministry. Keep my church search in your prayers. Thanks.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
1.) Always checking my email. We're talking every half hour or something when I'm by my computer.
2.) Talking on AIM. It's pretty pointless in most cases, but it sure burns the time I don't have quickly.
3.) Surfing the internet for who-knows-what. I'll start looking for something like the correct spelling of Guatemala and end up on some Pastor's high cheese website that they obviously made back at the inception of the internet.
4.) Downloading software that I really don't need but think is cool for like 5 minutes and then uninstall.
5.) Downloading virus and spyware updates to get rid of the lastest crap that is on my computer because I downloaded software that really wasn't cool... Wasn't cool like I got spyware on my computer written by some 15 year-old pimple faced geek who couldn't get a girlfriend if he met her in a chatroom on AOL! (Snap! You burned!)
6.) Emailing everyone back who wrote me to see if I'm still doing ok in Kentucky.
7.) Writing blogs for the loyal viewers who come here every week.
8.) Watching the almost funny Strongbad Email of the week. Over and over. Imitating his voice while I write my little emails. Chucka-Chucka-Email!
Yep, so I realized I waste most of my time on the internet and I really only need to write back my buds. And yes, you can get colds in Kentucky while wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. I guess fall is already on its way....
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
1. Driveways are sacred and should be treated as holy. Thus, the emphasis of not wearing shoes down here and no driving on driveways.
2. Yards are great places to display your rusted out 1983 Dodge stationwagon. Everyone in the neighborhood will be impressed with your item of status.
3. Everyone is so constantly in a state of drunkenness, thus, finding the driveway is too hard and yards function as driveways. Those that aren't drunk don't want to be thought a 'Yankee' and under the peer pressure pull into the yard instead.
If you have any ideas why this might be let me know.
I haven’t gotten many pictures from you guys… I’m not saying I’m disappointed, but come on. I’m not going to sacrifice animals or anything, I’m just going to pray for the people in your family and be encouraged that there are Christians in the world outside of seminary…
Again, my address:
204 N. Lexington Ave
Wilmore, KY 40390-1199
I wish I had a funny story to report, but alas, I do not. I’ve been reading pretty much non-stop. It has been rather annoying to see how many seminary students preparing for occupations as pastors rarely study materials outside of what you will be tested on. It would be equivalent to only eating bread and drinking water when you’re preparing for the Olympics. Sure, you’ll be alive, but you’re going to get smoked by the guys who eat right. Aka: these slackers won’t be able to fulfill their calling effectively. To much is given, much is required, I don’t know why they don’t understand that.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
On my way out I threw out my trash and headed to the car. When I started driving down the road I noticed that I had ketchup on the back of my right hand and right next to it was a Frosty spot I must have spilled on my finger. I licked the Frosty goodness from my finger and then figured it was easier to clean the ketchup off at the same time, so I licked it off. As I tasted the ketchup, something occurred to me, when I got up from the table I think my hands were pretty clean. See, the last thing I do before I leave the table is use the napkin to make sure my hands are thoroughly clean. My mind began to race, how on earth did I possibly get ketchup on the back of my hand? Then all at once I could see it clearly, I used the back of my hand to prop the garbage lid up to throw my garbage away. I reached for the glovebox and grabbed some spare napkins I always keep there. I tried to pat down my tongue but it was too late I had already ingested the completely gross ketchup. Yeah, so I ate someone’s old ketchup that had been sticking to the lid of the garbage can that they probably never or hardly ever clean. Boy did I feel like a genius the whole way back to Wilmore.
Monday, September 06, 2004
I didn’t really speak about the greatest pastime on seminary campus… I call it “Match Maker International: the Seminary Years” During the first day of orientation I started to observe it. High levels of both male and female hormone seemed to rage out of control. It really is a toss up who is more desperate the guys or the girls… I’m going to go with guys, but only because I’ve seen them get shot down more than the girls. I don’t think most guys understand that being highly forward with complete strangers isn’t the best of ideas. It only screams that you are completely desperate beyond all goodness and reason, which in most cases seems to the truth, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m not saying a lot of people seem to have come here as an escape from reality/getting a real job or to have a second chance to pick up a wife/husband… Ok, yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Here’s a thought, maybe we should come here to get an education. Now, I am being too harsh, I know a guy who has a girlfriend back home and there are many married couples off campus. Unfortunately I live at ground zero for those who want to rush into relationships (a men’s dorm). I give it two weeks and a lot of the people running around will be hooked up.
The second greatest pastime here is watching TV. Yeah, can you say no life? Everyone seems to watch endless amounts of television. I mean I guess it is a way for people to hang out, but you all know how I feel towards the new American idol. Don’t get me wrong there are many great movies and a few shows that have redeeming value but honestly, every floor I walk onto, everyone is watching it, around the clock. I’m sure this will change once classes start…
I appreciate all the comments. It takes a long time before I actually have friends, and down here it’s Horstman or bust! I’m really glad he is down here, I may go crazy. I read all your blogs but usually am at a loss for words.
Here are my digits in case you want to call me, I just got my line today: 859.749.0067. Although I am reluctant to put it out there, I am lucky enough to only have friends read. I'm on the 250 day and 1000 night plan, yeah it's not much, but I need to study too. Talk to you soon.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
As accomplishments go, I think I’ve made a pretty significant accomplishment this week. I’ve gotten people from Alabama and Kentucky to make fun of Kentucky with me. That and I managed to get my feet eaten up by chiggers. Being the highly educated individual I am, I went to the store to buy nail polish to kill the chiggers that had burrowed into my skin. What’s that? Chiggers don’t burrow? Oh, I guess it would have made sense to read the fact sheet before I bought nail polish and painted my feet. No, I wasn’t walking around barefoot in the woods, I was wearing flip-flops. For all those other city boys out there, don’t wear flip-flops into the woods. It is a bad idea…
I feel like such a city boy here. When I meet other people who know how to turn their computers on, I get real excited. To all my peeps in Dayton, keep it real.
Monday, August 30, 2004
I think back to all the major turning points in my life. I remember when I was five sitting in the den with my dad and asking Jesus Christ to help turn me from my sin, save me from my deserved punishment and to be the king of my life. What a joyful time it was celebrating with my mom and dad that day, and what an eternal impact it made on my soul.
I remember when my parents started the gut wrenching process of filling for divorce. How sad and angry I was at God and my parents. How helpless I felt. I wished so hard that God would make them stop fighting and make them work things out. I think it is when I became aware of God’s choice to let us walk towards Him or away from Him.
I remember riding bikes with my friends in high school, feeling so empty. Wondering where everything went wrong and hearing Pascal’s analogy roll through my head. He said, ‘We’re all designed with a God-shaped void in our hearts’. I realized that I had put people and possessions in God’s place (Lord of my life). I repented and asked God to help me never do it again.
I remember breaking down during worship when God convicted me of not giving Him every area of my life in February during my junior year at college. He was asking me to step up in leadership at a college ministry and I tried to run from it, but then I realized I had to trust Him with all areas of my life.
And now the next chapter begins. It is a bit scary, similar to when you are about to start a race and you here the words, “Runners to your marks. Set.” All the adrenaline in you rushes through your veins, your heart pumps hard, and you go from relaxed to intensely focused. The hush of the crowd, the whipping of the wind, and the anticipation so thick you could cut it with a knife lets you know, this is for real, the race is about to begin.
I didn’t come here to take a vacation. I didn’t come here to run from my problems. I came because I want to win the race God has set before me. This is where I start another phase of the training. We all have races, each person God has created uniquely in His image. He has poured over each of us preparing us with a special purpose in mind. Each of us has a special place in his heart. To run the race he has set before you is such a sweet flavor to experience. I wish everyone would come and join the race.
So now I prepare for the next phase of my race, which I believe will be in the city. Loving on people; sharing the good news that Jesus has made the way for us to have a personal relationship with the Father; equipping the saints for their races. Helping them see the race that is before them.
Bet the farm. God always comes through.
Friday, August 20, 2004
Monday, August 09, 2004
This past weekend we went canoeing. Being the pasty white engineer that I am, I thought putting sunscreen on my neck would be all that it took to keep me from burning. In hindsight I see that yes, indeed pasty white guys do burn. I managed to burn the inside of my thighs. Yeah, I look like I inherited white pasty calves which are strangely attached to red (and greatly painful) thighs. On the bright side of things, my Cadillac of a canoe tipped 8 times and I managed to get my co-rower to bail and go solo and to pick up the most annoying canoe partner there could be in his place. Instead of paddling or getting other canoes wet, he felt the need to tip our canoe (why we flipped so much) and splash me instead. You know those guys, the ones that find everything they do to everyone else absolutely hilarious. All the while, my white pasty legs slowing overcooking like an old hotdog sitting at a gas station. I try not to whine about how much they hurt, but it's been a few days now and sleeping is less than pleasant still. If you know an engineer buy them sunscreen, I promise they need it.
So let me share with you the most exciting thing of my day, I got my passenger side armrest for my CR-V! I've been waiting a week and a half for it to ship from sunny California out to our home sweet home, Ohio. I didn't change when I got home from work except to take off my tie and dress shirt. Then I raced to put my new armrest in the car. Like putting together a Level 3 model for the first time, I carefully read the directions twice and made the permanent cuts on my seat. I put the new one on and sat back in shear amazement. Amazed that I actually did it right the first time and amazed that I'm actually really excited about the new armrest... and the remote control! Ok, so I've been holding out on you, I got some remotes to my car too. I figured since I am going to seminary, it would be nice to have both sides of the car open up when people approach it. Ok, I mean I would like to be able to take a girl out with a little class. Nothing says high class like an armrest.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Sunday, August 01, 2004
When I got to the pile of shredded papers I paused. Two thoughts rushed through my mind:
1). It is a large pile of paper, you probably shouldn’t try to vacuum it up. It could break the vacuum.
2). Don’t be a girl, vacuum it up. Men don’t pick up what they can get up with a shop vac!
I chose option two, and started vacuuming the pile up. The vacuum worked for a while and then started making a high pitched whine. I emptied the bag and started again. About then I thought to myself, “Hmmm… The vacuum doesn’t have much pull… Oh well” I kept vacuuming. The whine of the vacuum and the lack of its effectiveness finally got me to stop. I examined the vacuum and found that I had blocked the hoses up with paper. Lots of blockage…
Yeah… a moment of stupid. I tried to shake the paper out of the hoses, to no avail. So I detached the hose from the vacuum (thankfully vacuums have come a long way in 10 years) and filled the hose with water. Instead of blowing the paper out of the other end of the tube, it turned the paper into a massive pile of impassible sludge. Boo-yaaa! What was my reaction? I decided I should shake the hose as hard as I could using its own momentum against itself. That backfired, and the sludge compounded all the more. It defies physics, I know. I think they should consider making skyscrapers out of wet paper…
I then decided to take one of my coat hangers and turn it into a stick and shove it up the hose and try to break the clog. Instead of breaking it, the sludge adapted, evolved if you will, and simply let it pass through. Improbable but indeed possible, cause it happened!
I ended up making the coat hanger into a hook and started pulling the sludge out. That actually worked, if it didn’t, I think I may have either busted out the Drain-O or have done something even stupider.
Moral of the story: If you momentarily pause for some reason, at least ponder why you would think such a thing.
Friday, July 30, 2004
The road split into two lanes and he obviously got into the other lane (left lane) and sped off ahead. I know that this may be taken wrong, but I threw up a quick prayer and asked if he could get the next two red lights. I see him in the distance get the first light much to my delight. I chuckled and continued on my “snail” pace at near the speed limit. I got the green light, he was still way ahead and flooring it every chance he got.
The second light brought even more contentment to me. Yes, once again he had to stop and wait at the light. I’m sure he could see me smiling in the irony, since I was right behind him now. All the precious ground he covered was made up thanks to the good old traffic laws. I like them sometimes...
To top it all off, he was also headed to the Air Force base (where I work). They check IDs in two lines, he went to the right and I went to the left. The person in front of him got stopped for probably almost a minute, I not only caught up to him, I left him so far in the dust I couldn’t even make out his truck in the rear-view mirror. God is so good to me.
Monday, July 26, 2004
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Every idea I had for a post has officially left my head. Most everything I want to talk about isn’t really something I can share. Those seem to be the things you always want to talk about, aren’t they? I’ll say this and then leave for another couple days. Everyone I know has an opinion about Spiritual Gifts. Everyone feels so strongly that they would for some reason be willing to leave/divide churches. When it comes to actually sitting down over a couple months and really diving into the Scriptures and reading up on the scholarship to the issue, everyone disappears. It goes to a theory I’m coming to that everyone is willing to fight for what they think they’ve heard once somewhere and is backed up by superstition or a story about a guy who knows a guy who once fell in a deep hole and had Lassie come save them, blah blah blah. Yet, when you ask them to really explore all sides of the issue at hand, people are afraid of being wrong; afraid they've been putting too much stock in bad logic and will somehow be brainwashed by reason and prayer. My friend Adam and I have been at this particular topic for months, at one point we had five people (pretty weak) and now we’re down to one guy. one. I wish more people would care. By caring, I mean actually give a rip and try to understand where the truth lies in this gray area of Christianity. That way, you can be comfortable with other people's arguments because you've explored their Scriptural basis. But then again I’m not your mom. The third wave is here, love it or hate it.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
I’m shocked you haven’t been reading it all day long, and haven’t spent every waking moment you have learning from modern Christian books. Where would we be without Family Christian bookstore and Christianbook.com helping us find our way back to more modern pop-culture Christian literature? What would we do if someone didn’t tell us we would be much happier if we did exactly what they say? They have found a magic formula for living and you can have it! All you need to do is buy their book, their workbook that goes with it. Of course you can offset your spirituality from others around you who are doing the same thing by buying the coin, prayer shawl, floor mat, and the follow-up book. Although I haven’t actually seen these items for other books like the POJ has, most books are similar.
I can’t even stand to read more than a few pages in a book I was given by one of my pastors. He has given me three books and each of the three was well-written but suffered from the same problem. Every book seems to swear up and down that it isn’t about formulas and then proceeds to give some kind of formula. Granted, there are steps we take in our walk. Yet, somehow it seems like we’ve become too scientific in our thinking. Maybe it is what everyone wants, but not what we need. If all we hear on Sunday mornings is a sermon that reeks of “Self-Help” or “10 Steps To A Better Life” then we are missing the mark.
Instead I find myself forced to read books by authors of old. Authors who didn’t focus on “steps”, people who didn’t know the first thing about modern psychology. These books help you meditate on God, to sit back and marvel at how good He is to us. To look at the depth of his love, of his power, of his sovereignty, these are the author’s intent. They don’t focus on men or how to fix ourselves, they focus on God. In modern literature there are some books that do this outside of the Bible, but they are infrequent not the normative. Like a machine, new formula-based, self-help and 10-steps books come out all the time. I can’t enjoy these books, something is wrong…
It reminds me of the wave of Christian artists coming out of Nashville, TN. It’s like they are robots built by some mad scientist. Every one of them sound somehow… fake. From Toby Mac to Avalon it all makes me sick. I am ever so thankful for the other wave of artists who are Christians like Blindside, POD, Switchfoot and others coming out of San Diego. They don’t sound like the rest of the Nashville bunch, praise God.
I draw this connection because I can’t help but wonder if much like there is a Christian machine in Nashville conforming its artists to some mold, the world of Christian books is being ruled by some high ranking executives who find the need to push out the same format in books year after year. It may well be that Christians are so caught up in the American advertising that we’ve become subject to its brainwashing. I think in part we naturally think that somehow the books we read can take the place God is to fill in our lives; in pop-culture it seems things that take many years aren’t worth doing… What if quite the opposite is true.
Friday, July 16, 2004
I was reminded about it again tonight when an old friend sat down in a chair inside the radius of funk. His reaction... light a match. One match didn't seem to help, so he lit another one. I didn't say a word, I just watched him. After he strained to find the source of the smell for a good few minutes, I let him in on the secret of our room, the mysterious funk. Another friend then chimed in, who thought our shoes stunk (it must have been his first time sitting in the radius of funk).
To this day the funk is indescribable. Does it smell like dead animals, or maybe like old shoes? Does it smell like rotten milk or maybe some form of mold? The answer to all of these is... yes. Yes, it smells like everything bad in the world. Worse than feet, rotten milk, dead animal and even some White Castle gone bad (if you smell what I'm cookin'). It makes dorm rooms smell like mountain air and airplane cabins seem sanitary. Six weeks, and then I leave. Come soon, ATS. Come soon.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
I don’t make posting a daily thing because as you have guessed by now, it’s not always the most productive use of my time. I’m sure you can relate. I structure my day using the only thing I’ve ever applied from economics, the law of diminishing returns. I look at my day (which starts at 6pm and runs to 11) and try to decide what will be most beneficial and what has to be done. I’m sure you can relate to that too.
I don’t know how lame I will sound for saying this, but man, I really want to clean my room. Do you know what I’m saying? I want enough time to go and clean my room. Here’s the kicker, some of you may relate to this, when I do get time to clean my room, I don’t. I’m all gung ho about it when I can’t but when I can, then all of a sudden I’m dying to do something else, you know, X, Y, Z. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!
The big question is does this indeed carry over into relationships too? It seems like everyone I know likes someone who doesn’t like them. Is it simply easier for us that way? When we find out a person we like, likes us back do we suddenly decide we don’t like them? It just seems a little strange to me. I think there is some weird connection.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Although we all know in our scientific heads that the ground composition doesn’t really affect people’s intelligence, we assume that dumb people must live in other geographic areas. I think quite the opposite is true, everyone’s dumb. What makes a person dumb is not their grades on the ACT or the IQ test, because everyone has areas that they excel in more than others.
No, what makes people dumb is sin. The more you want to deny you have it, the dumber you really are. Smart people are people who willingly acknowledge that they are in fact hindered by sin and ask God for help with it, and others for grace.
Think about it, why to we pull the, “we’re better than you” deal? Pride. Where does this type of pride come from? Sin. Why is Ohio better than Kentucky? Why does it really matter if Ohio State beats Michigan? Why does it matter who wins the World Series? Why does it matter what brand of clothing you wear? What kind of car you drive? If you hang out with the “in” group? Where does your value come from?
Where does your value come from?
Friday, July 09, 2004
My house makes this look good.
Everyday more and more dishes pile up in our sink. It was Monday when I finished off the pile that were sitting in the sink. Now it's full once again. When I say full I mean there are dishes on the counter, both sides of the sink are so full you can't move the faucet. Now, if you've ever lived at a house with other roommates I'm sure you've seen this before. In most cases the phenomena I can only refer to as "taking turns" happens. You know, where everyone in the house takes turns washing dishes. Other people blind to their human nature believe in a more unrealistic system of "wash your own". This system has such potential except it fails for the same reason Communism fails (besides the fact that Communism outlaws God, big mistake), it depends on everyone carrying their fair share. We all know this isn’t going to happen. If you are so naive as to hold to this, come on over to my house and I’ll do my share if you do yours. Why can’t everyone just wash their dishes? I know it’s hard to understand, I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around it for nearly a year. I wash all my dishes, and usually someone else’s share when I do them. When I don’t, they just pile up higher. Does anyone have any good ideas to solve this problem? Or are there any horror stories out there?
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Here's a picture of my brother snowboarding. Ok, so he's actually strapped to sled and my sister, my cousin, and I are all standing behind him posing for the picture. You would think that after he broke his arm that would stop us. Nope, just the opposite actually, all three of us that were making fun of him, instead of skiing, were snowboarding the next day. See our grandfather is a ski instructor here in Ohio so we’ve been skiing since we were five. Snowboarding on the other hand we proved to be very ill equiped to do. I can't tell you how many times I ate snow that day on the slopes of Colorado.
Monday, July 05, 2004
I’ve been listening to Ray Comfort, I’ve been told he is excellent from many of my friends who have stumbled across his materials within the past few months. Specifically, on his website: http://www.livingwaters.com/listenwatch.shtml
I’ve been listening to the sermon titled, “Hell’s Best Kept Secret”. It definitely is making me think about the approach I’ve been taught in evangelism. To what extent do we need to emphasize the state of a sinner and how do we go about it? What areas are being neglected by the modern message of God’s redemption of mankind? I would encourage you do either listen to it online (which I know can be hard to do) or download it and burn it to a CD and listen to it. After you’ve listened to it, let me know what you think of it.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
If you hear me on this, let me know. I can wash my car and it will shine, boy howdy. Just like being in someone’s wedding guarantees you’ll never see them again, when I wash my car it is a guarantee that a flock of birds will crap on it. It used to make me mad when I first got my car a year ago. Over time I’ve learned to just be moderately annoyed and take greater pleasure in eating chicken and turkey. I’ve decided to write birds off. They just don’t seem compassionate. Ok, I guess I shouldn’t be talking since I’m telling you how much pleasure I get from eating birds now… but, they started it! Ok, so maybe I ate chicken and turkey before they started crapping on my car, but I did have a parakeet when I was a kid growing up! That should so even things out!
Here’s the thing, they don’t JUST crap all over my car. They also crap all over my car windows too! That’s so disgusting! Why in the crap do you have to crap all over my windows!?!??! Do I go and crap all over your birds nest?!?!?! NO! Do I get up at 6 in the morning and start playing my music really loud right outside your bedroom!?!?! NO! Woops. I guess that just kinda slipped out. But while it is out in the open, why do they pick my bedroom window to sit on and start singing before the sun rises!?!?!? If they were smart enough to know that I do eat other members of their bird family then I would understand. It’s not like I’m eating their brother, it’s more like their great aunt Margaret who they didn’t even like in the first place!
So once again today I have to go out and clean my car again. They got the hood really good. I mean the bird that got my car has to be the Birdzilla of all birds. The crap is easy 4” in diameter! Four inches! Sick! I’m just waiting for the day when I see this 30 lb. bird the size of a large dog flying around. I’m not a NRA member, but if these birds keep taking out my car, I may consider it. It’s not like I live in the country… Birds. Sick.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Anyway, I remembered just how depressing watching tv is when I turned it on tonight to relax. We don’t have cable because at our bachelor pad, we don’t watch it much except some sports and an occasional Simpsons episode. Most of the time I’m out with some people doing something. Tonight I thought I would see what the regular couch potatoes watch. I felt hypnotized and somehow it makes you want to keep watching. It’s so weird. I don’t know why it happens, but yuck.
You know what I’m talking about, you turn it on and there’s nothing you want to see. For some strange reason, you don’t turn it off, you just keep watching. I’m not sure if it is because watching tv takes less energy than sleeping or if it is because I feel too tired to go and read or what. I just sit there and start to feel worse and worse. By the time I turn it off I agree I won’t watch it for another month and see what happens. You would think I had learned my lesson the first time, but I keep coming back like a moth to the flames…
I also realized that tv seems worse than I remember it. It seems like everyone has problems that are magically solved in 20 minutes, the women are all so slender that a good wind would send them into the next program, and for some reason everyone seems to live in a mansion.
Take a month off of watching tv. No, seriously. You won’t want to go back. And when you do, you’ll feel sick and won’t do it again for a while.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Anyway, I was there and they had the building inside locked up. I could get in the gym no problem but the guy who was suppose to have a key to the rest of the building was on vacation the week prior and the secretaries had messed up and left his key in the staff mailbox which is in the office which was locked up. So the guy who is suppose to have the key along with another big guy and myself decide we’re going to break in the office and grab the key. Let me give a list of attempts and why they didn’t work:
1. First they tried to move the lock off the sliding glass window. This doesn’t work because if it did work they wouldn’t have put a lock on it in the first place! I tried to warn them, but to no avail.
2. Big guy number 1 tries to go through the ceiling in front of the office and drop into the room. This won’t work because he’s over 200lbs. When you’re that big, good luck getting your arms to cooperate. Did I mention that the electric boxes in the ceiling somehow gave him a really good shock when he tried to feel around up there?
3. Big guy number 1 tries to go through the bathroom and drop into the office. Yeah, good luck. We’ve now not only have the same problem as trying this in front of the office but now it smells worse and we’ve moved another 30 feet away, which would make it harder to traverse through the ceiling.
4. Big guy number 1 tries to go in through a side room, but realizes he doesn’t have a key to get in. Yeah, if this worked I would have been impressed too.
5. Big guy number 2 tries picking the lock on the side door with a credit card. I mean it worked in the movies didn’t it? Yeah, it still didn’t work, but a better attempt.
6. I go and get some wire and attempt big guy number 2’s idea with something that wraps around and pulls towards us. Problem: the wire is too flimsy. If we had something stronger I think we would have been in.
7. Big guy number 2 tries to go through the ceiling in front of the office and drop into the room. Once again, he’s also a big guy (well over 200) and doesn’t have the arm strength to pull himself up.
8. Look, I’m not wearing shoes, I came to clean up. So me going through the ceiling seemed like a bad idea. Besides, big guy number 1 found some power cords up there!
9. Back to picking locks we went. A feeble but honest attempt.
So how did we finally get in? Yeah, you guessed it, I gave up on them picking our way to freedom and I went through the ceiling barefoot. I mean when you have a very low body fat ratio and over 6’ you can do this kind of thing. Being an Electrical Engineer actually paid off, I knew which were electrical boxes and what weren’t (and no, being an EE doesn’t help you distinguish what is what, it’s called common sense, a side effect of being an engineer). So I got up into the ceiling, pulled the ceiling tile above the office up and out and then slowly, and I do mean slowly, lowered myself in to the office and onto someone’s desk, barefoot.
I opened the door, we go the key, I put the tile back and we left to prepare the room for EMERGE (that’s the 20s group we host at our church, and it has been going well thanks for asking, yes you should come, that's a great idea). I hope this Monday is a bit easier...
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Friday, June 18, 2004
We arrived at Va Beach, it is 6:30 their time and we decide to find our friend who was working on the coast over summer... Right after we play a horribly incoherent game of football (we didn’t sleep much in the Jeep, pretty uncomfortable). Deciding we stink at football, we start asking everyone in the general area if they know our friend. We get a tip and knock on one of three possible doors. No one answers, so we continue to knock and knock and knock. I’m sure the guy behind the door is loving us at this point...
Thursday, June 17, 2004
One particular night some of the girls in our group approached me and asked if they could talk to me privately. I agreed and we went away from the groups that had formed outside our hotel rooms. One girl whispered in my ear that they had blocked their toilet and needed help unblocking it. An honest request, seeing how they had never done it before, it must have been someone else’s job back home... I walk into their room which is dark (lighting isn’t great in these cheap hotels) and make a bee-line for the bathroom. The bathroom is dark as well, but I’m trying to help them quickly so there’s less embarrassment and I wanted to show them it’s no big deal, a simple task. The plunger is already standing in the toilet.
I grab the top of the plunger, when I say I grab it, I mean the palm of my hand rests on the top of the plunger. I noticed an unfamiliar squishiness in my hand, a wet squishiness that is foreign to me. I think to myself, “hmmm, why would the wooden plunger handle be not only wet, but also squishy?” Nearly instantly the answer comes rocketing to my mind. I release the grip I had put on the handle and slowly turn my hand over as I pull it away. Now stuck to my hand is toilet paper and yes, human poop. I glance over at the handle to see a PILE of paper and poop mixed together sitting squarely on-top of the handle, like a flag at the top of a flagpole.
Silently I walk out of the bathroom and into the dimly (but brighter) room where the girls are sitting on the bed. My palm turned up, showing my new “presents”. The girls instantly roar in laughter and pull the covers over their heads in embarrassment. At this point, I think I’m shaking in utter repulsiveness, mouth open and head moving back and forth in disgust. Words don’t describe, heck, I didn’t even know what I was suppose to think about all this! I walk back into the bathroom and plunge, crap in hand and all. Over and over and over, until I get it fixed. I wiped off my hands with toilet paper, washed them multiple times, cleaned the top of the plunger off and left.
Bottom line: when you volunteer to help plunge a girl’s toilet, remember, they don’t understand the sheer complexity of a plunger so be prepared for any and everything.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Monday, June 14, 2004
Thursday, June 10, 2004
In some ways going to seminary is scary, knowing that my lifestyle for at least the next year and probably much longer is going to change. No longer will I be hashing out code, walking down the hall and cracking jokes, trying to wrap my mind around some foreign looking software. I’m going to miss the guys down the hall, my roommate, the jingle when the Cashman walks in, when Adam swings by and does some odd dance, my boss always joking about firing me, the Kentucky jokes, the long hours in a room with no windows singing songs straight out of the 80s. Basically I’m going to miss the people I work with, sure I only see them 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, but I’ve really grown to enjoy their personalities. I enjoy trying my hardest to be a real Christian in the office with everyone. I hope they can see how God changed me; turned me from a kid who was struggling so hard to find happiness. It was always just out of reach; trying to fulfill the American dream, only to find myself feeling hollow somehow. I guess there was a point where I realized the truth that Blaise Pascal so eloquently stated when he discovered it many years before me, "human beings are created with a God-shaped void deep inside them."
See that’s why seminary isn’t scary for me. No, I don’t think it will make me more “spiritual”. You get more in line with God when you get down on your knees and pray more, when you hide His word (Bible) in your heart, when you step out of your comfort zone, when you surrender your life. Seminary is where God has been calling me for quite a while. I’ve seen the signs of it, I’ve asked God to change people’s hearts who I know would have a hard time with it and He has. My dad for instance who I knew wanted nothing more out of life for me than to be an Engineer and find happiness in suburbia. It was my dream too, I mean who doesn’t want to have a nice house, a good wife and a couple little ones running around with a pet dog? I have been given great gifts in math and science. Yet I know that for now God is calling me to work in the church. To bring back things neglected by the changing of time and society. I’m not talking about wearing togas or anything. I’m talking about caring for the cities which church-suburbia has left out. I’m talking about mentoring, wisdom being passed down from old men to younger men, equipping them with the attitude, skills and knowledge they have gained for a lifetime walk with God. I’m talking about helping men remember what is important in life, how a God-centered life encourages your family, draws you into community, requires you to have other guys in your life that really know you, keeps you out of isolation and helps you make hard decisions, all the while loving, providing, leading, protecting and cherishing your wife. Women need to be challenged too, I hope to explore how more in the future.
It is my time to go, to give up my normal life to be equipped with tools to help others be equipped. We can’t all afford the time it takes to spend three/four years solid in a seminary environment. Some of us have families, some of us are taking night classes, some of us have to work 80 hours a week just to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. Some of us need to go learn tools that can help equip others (I’m talking more than a sermon on a Sunday), to help them study the Bible, to help them learn how to sit still and wait on God, to help them be a light in their offices, in their communities, so that every man, woman and child has the opportunity to hear and receive a personal relationship with God. From there, we enjoy God forever and in such He is glorified and rejoices.
If you’ve read this far I’m honestly humbled a bit. Thanks for listening. Please pull me aside and let's talk if you want, I'm game.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Monday, June 07, 2004
Saturday, June 05, 2004
Then it hits me about mile 3.5 maybe mile 4, my tires seem low. All this time, I’ve been like, “Wow, the shocks on this bike are incredible” I kept peddling pretty hard in a pretty low gear ratio. I’m puffin’. I mean my legs are burning because unlike my sister who’s been coasting at least part of the time on these trails we are taking, I’ve been peddling hard to keep up. I don’t want to let on that I’m in pain or that my tires are flat because I had been bragging about how awesome my bike was at the beginning of the trip. Word of advice, it is best not to brag if you are a Christian. God will make sure that pride is good and zapped out of you quick. I’m sure I deserved it, but man, pride is a horrible thing.
Anyway, so we come to a fork in the road, and secretly I’m hoping that she’ll want to head back to the bike trail so we can make a B-line for the car. I of course wanting to seem like I’m not in complete pain ask her what she wants to do. She of course thinks everything is fine (like I wanted her to) and wants to going and exploring the sweet trails. So we keep going. My legs aren’t getting any less tired.
Now my legs are crying out in pain. I’m thinking, “Great. I should have swallowed my pride and said something. Now you need to just suck it up and be a man.” We keep going on and on, for what seems like years. I’m now wishing that we’ll find some exit to it and I would say that I need to turn around. Luckly about a half a mile later we hit one. She still wants to keep going, so in the moment, I agree to keep going (still acting like nothing is wrong).
Once again I’m kicking myself. How dumb can you be? How many times can you say gloss over the fact that you are can’t keep up the pace? She keeps pulling away and I have to pedal harder and harder. I start to wonder if I am just an out of shape nerd and my tires are fine. I mean maybe the shocks are just that good! Yeah, right. I get a lucky break and there’s a place to turn around up ahead. I’m hoping she’ll want to turn around and I won’t have to say anything. She proceeds to tell a story of how she rollerbladed 14 miles one way on some bike trails the year before. 14 miles one way! That was it. I had to come clean. Kind of.
So I say, “Hey, let’s turn around here and go back”. She doesn’t think anything’s wrong and I’m not looking too bad, we’ve been going for a good distance. As we’re peddling back, I ask her if she thinks my tires look a little flat. She tells me they do look flat and says it must be hard to pedal. That’s all it took, I start making references to how hard it is to pedal from then out back. She consistently gets far ahead of me and then starts backpedaling to keep her balance while I pedal my butt off trying to catch up. Twice I think we’re almost at the car, and have my hopes shot down to find that in fact we’re way far from it. I felt like a kid who has to pee on a roadtrip and parents keep saying, “we’re almost there honey.” We get back to the car and I’m shaking. I was straight up exhausted.
Morals of the story: Don’t be prideful. Don’t buy crappy bike pumps. Don’t take an untested bike on a long trip. My sister is a machine; she's not human.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
So we sat around talking about how cool it would be to go to Virginia Beach, where he first met his bride to be. After an hour of going back and forth about how it would be a bad idea, we hopped in a car and left. We had with us, a swimsuit, a change of clothes, a few bucks, a map, a frisbee, a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter (yeah we thought it out so well we brought breakfast, lunch and dinner -aka peanut butter). We piled into my friends 1988 Jeep Cherokee and headed West, it was Friday at 8pm. All of us had just worked and were ready to goof off.
Alright, let me be honest for a minute, I may in fact be a bit biased. You see, I hate ties. Let me share a few reasons why.
i) I am matching impared. So when I put on a tie, I have to stop, look at my pants, look at my shirt, look at my pants again, look at my tie and see if it all matches!
ii) On days when I don't wear a tie, I'm able to get dressed 10 minutes faster. Why? See reason one....
iii) Ties don't clean well. When, and I do mean when I spill something on my tie it means the tie has to get "dry cleaned". Yeah, I tried using the washer once despite the tag saying otherwise, the tag is correct.
iv) Ties cost somewhere in the range of 10 bucks for a decent tie, 20 bucks for a normal tie and some guys are dumb enough to pay 30 or more for a tie! I think I could spend my money better.
v) Ties choke me. I put a tie on, and I'm sufficating. Did you know that ties that are on too tight have been linked as a cause of glaucomas?
vi) I have a nack for losing ties. Yeah, if you had 20 bucks sitting around, do you think you would loose it? I do.
vii) Ties that doctors wear have been linked to spreading disease around to other patients! So ask your doctor to not wear one.
viii) Did I mention that I am matching impared?
Now, I need to be fair to ties. There are some benefits to them.
i) Every girl's crazy about a well dressed man.
ii) Wasn't that enough? Ok, fine. When you're wearing a tie, clients think you're smarter than the guys down the hall who don't.
iii) Lawyers, Doctors, Engineers all wear ties. We got a rep to keep
iv) When I dress bad, it annoys my office-mate. He hates it when I wear my golf tie.
v) Did I mention girls go crazy for well dressed men? They want to know you can provide. A tie is a status symbol that says, "Yes, I can bring home the bacon so you can hang out with the girls while I work." I don't know why girls think working is so great. If I had the choice to not work and do something cool like painting or write music or play football with the guys heck yeah I would! Somehow some guy conned his wife into thinking that work is fun, and that he was "oppressing" her by letting her stay home while he beat his head in at work all day. That man must have really hated his wife.
That's it. Peace.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
my living room has the funk. if you aren't familiar with 'the funk' it is simply the most horrid smell known to mankind. the kind of smell that goes beyond all goodness and decency. the smell that burns your nose hairs so you'll never have to worry about trimming them.
on the bright side of things, it seems to attact ants and mice. wait, that's not good... ok, well it seems to keep the ladies away! wait... that's not good either. yeah, it stinks, it hasn't gone away either... we've tried the famous "fabreeze", steaming it, moving couches, waiting and even complaining about the problem, all of which have proved useless.
one day my friend get's this bright idea that he's found the source of the funk in the room, he swears that we've got a dead animal stuck in our wall... so he gets out the tools and proceeds to 'prove' he's found the source by pulling off an electrical outlet cover and smelling. he about passes out from smelling the outlet. i was a bit incredulous of it, so i decided to smell myself. nothing. it smelled like nothing. he re-smelled and decided he NOW smelled nothing. thus proving again, the power of suggestion is indeed powerful.
we still don't know what to do about the funk. i guess after you get used to it, it only smells putrid. this brings me to a point (time for the tangent).
college students when unattended by adults seem to have the odd effect of creating 'funks'. i first experienced this phenomina when i moved into the dorms back in the fall of '98 as a freshmen. since then i've had multiple experiences of almost losing my lunch and trying to hold a straight face as the odor from the room in question first hits me. can we really expect anything else when we have college students penned together in stables at community housing projects? and how many of them actually clean their room before they move out (i can count them on one hand).
honestly, i had hoped that moving on in life, getting a house, would have solved the problem, but alas i'm still renting (with my roommates) and still suffering through 'the funk' left by the people who were renting before us.