But not with a female. With an album. Yes, that’s right. Remember “Chutes Too Narrow” by The Shins? That was last love affair with an album. But alas, how quickly these things fade. I’m already on to another one, the elusive old (or new) Franz Ferdinand, and their album of the same name. Sort of a Brit-pop/dancepunk/freakout/indie-rock collusion. You know the type.

Also, I’ve bent a fork around my wrist for a sort of chain. Cool-ee-o.

I’m sort of divided here. I like the look of sportbikes, but hate the posture, and some of the bikes have imho way too much plastic moulding on them. Oh yeah, and the insurance. And the sportbike lifestyle.

Sometimes it seems like cruisers have more of a history and richer tradition behind them — which they do — and little bit more flair. Plus, tassels. Okay, now I’m kidding.

Honda makes a nice little ride. This, my friends, is it:

And, for the price it’s at, who gives?

Elyssa: What’s this stuff?
Stu: Teflon tape.
Elyssa: What’s it for?
Me: You screw it around a screw and when you screw the screw into the screwy thing, water or air doesn’t come screwing out.
Stu: In layman’s terms.
Elyssa: Why do you have so much of it?
Stu: I’m obsessive compulsive.
Me: I’m going to make a turban.

Steve: I wish we ordered things the way we used to order clothes in Wyoming.
Me: Out of the Value Village catalogue?

Stu: And chaps. Can’t you see me in chaps?
Me: Not on purpose.

Me: Well, if you want to put three people on, you need a double-decker bike.
Becka: They sell double-decker bikes?!?

So scientists have managed to teleport the properties of a photon to another photon thanks to good old quantum entanglement. Even though teleportation still sounds like science fiction, the potential uses, from communications to computing are immense. Doubtful if they’ll ever send Granny to Mars with this thing, but you never do know, now do you?

We got a new machine at work, and I’m going to be learning about it today. It’s pretty cool, and for those of you who know what a wheel dresser is and what one would use it for, you know what I mean.

Last night, I closed the door to my house. Bad idea. Woke up in the middle of the night, sweating.

I’m developing an affinity for cowboy hats. I fear this may be the beginning of a troubling new fashion era.

Also, for those of you who don’t know, today is ChequeDay. After all, every day has it’s own cute nickname. For instance, Wednesday is HumpDay, because the week is half over. At least that’s what they told me.

Last night I sold my car for $400. My old one, the black 1998 Sunfire GT, not the Focus, thank you. I wouldn’t sell that for $400, unless I was getting a free kidney with it or somethin. I hear kidneys are expensive.

But I digress. My neighbor is some sort of used car salesman, and he saw it sitting in the drive and decided to covet it, and also ask me whether or not I was selling it. So he gave me some cash, took the ownership, and towed it away. I have no idea what he’s going to use it for. I hope maybe parts or something, because the wear and tear on that this is sure not worth the money of repairing it. But whatever. He didn’t ask many questions, not many at all. So he didn’t really get to hear the whole history of the car.

So today I took that money and put it in the bank. Then I went back to work, and, via the computer, took the money I had put in the bank and gave it to my creditors.

It’s funny, moving a mouse and also $200.00 at the same time, with nothing but a stream of data actually going anywhere. Talk about the ghost in the shell.

Me: “Okay, Steve. Guess what this pill is. Hint: it’s made from the shells of oysters.”
Steve: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Come on, Steve, there’s only on thing in oyster shells.”
Steve: Oysters?

Becka: “Oh! I just said the p-word! Bad Becka!”

From the Internet: “Microsoft isn’t like the Borg Collective. The Borg Collective has proper networking.”

Annonymous: “Why exactly does the saying go, don’t look the gift horse in the mouth? What exactly does one tell by looking at a horse’s mouth? I can see it now, the stable owner walking in and going, ‘By George, look at the teeth on this thing! He could eat a tree! Let’s buy ‘im!’ I mean, you buy a horse so you can ride it, no? That would make the saying, ‘Don’t look the gift horse in the legs.’ On second thought, the Victorians probably thought that was lewd.”

Steve: *looking at me wearing my sister’s hat* “I think your hat shrunk in the sun.”
Me: “Actually, my head swelled from all the women’s adoration.”

Me: “Did you wear a cape and stop speeding trains in your spare time?”

Annonymous: “I’m trying to think of something dumber than a brick.”

Lisa: “And he’s good with kids in his own awkwards sort of a way…”

I wonder if people ever think about how uncharitable we are in our speech. Not so much to people’s faces, no, we have a knack for being gracious there, but in private, in the little corner of your room where you talk to your friends. There.

Example. I’m growing sideburns. Nothing major, just some burns. Alright, to be accurate, they’re huge. Think Elvis. Think Starsky and Hutch in disguise. And naturally, someone’s going to make a comment. And it’s one thing when someone says to my face, ‘Wow, you look like a big shaggy dog!’ Because, you know, I’m pretty much made of metal. Doesn’t phase me. But when someone says behind my back, ‘Look at those things. What’s he trying to do, get attention? What a freak,’ now, that’s a bit more harsh. It’s an attack on the basic level.

This is what I’m telling you, people. I’m telling me too, because God knows I’m not anywhere close to perfect on this one, but here’s the deal — nothing’s safe. If people don’t find out about it now, they’ll find out about when God takes into account every idle word. Darn it, every idle email, phone call, slip of paper. Even every serious email where you’re making a valid point and throw in an aside. These things cut. They wound. They kill, even. They’re like cat litter on the rug. Nobody likes the stuff.

*pauses for breath*

Now, onto other things. Happier things. Ever notice how different friends bring out different things in you? It’s just the way people are, but you’re not the same person everywhere. Not even in public and private. You maybe be friends with Xander and Abbie, but maybe Xander brings out in you a sense of adventure, and Abbie calls forth a compassionate side.

I’ve noticed this. Just a personal observation. Also, you become more and more like the ones you’re around the most. You have that sense of adventure drawn out long enough, and it becomes integral. Maybe you become compassionate. Maybe you lose your lustre. Maybe you gossip.

Have you wondered, though, what if? What if a friend is drawing out in you the negatives? Maybe a lack of caution. Maybe a certain way of speaking. Maybe even a way of looking at people. How long do you go on? How can you stop that?

It makes me wonder if you can ever really change the combinations.

Okay, so you know female cosmetic magazines? Have you ever read one, or even skimmed the product reccomendation pages? For crying out loud, girls, how long do you spend every day just trying to look perfect?

I mean, there’s nothing wrong with the occasional facial masque, or a nice relaxing foot soak, or rubbing some ointment into your skin, but all these things I don’t understand — what do you do with them? How does one know which layer goes on first? How can that possibly be good for your face?

Personally, I don’t even like makeup. I mean, some girls need it. They have skin that cries out for whatever that stuff is that you make skin look better with. But some — nay, most — girls are just fine without it. Maybe a little bit of mascara (okay, lots of it), but if you’re going to put it on with a trowel, at least go all ironically goth so that you’re a walking parody of the Jezebels of Hollywood or something.

Jezebel of Hollywood. Hmm. That sounds like a good makeup company name.

I find myself thinking of Christian liberty too often in terms of abstracts. It comes, I know, from growing up in an individualised quasi-American anticulture, from regarding liberty as a concept to be merely a list of things that yes, I can do — but of course, that approach is deeply flawed. And thus our current concept of what “freedom” is comes to be overbalanced on the freedom and very light on the responsiblity. Sort of a culture of licking all the icing off the cake. When you’re done, all you have is a sick stomach and a cake that would appeal mainly to barbarians.

Christian liberty is the same way as secular liberty, and the modern evangelical looks much like the the modern citizen who enjoys his vacation in Florida but doesn’t like to vote. It’s as if Christian liberty were a gold rush, and millions of people are flooding into a metaphorical California in search of a few nuggets of the yellow stuff, forgetting that they’re all the while trampling down another man’s vineyards.

I’ll take an example. We all know, for instance, that there’s nothing morally distinguishing about one’s middle finger. It’s just a finger. On the other hand — so to speak — the cultural component of raising one’s middle finger to the sky doesn’t involve so much telling your pagan fellow drivers to look up as it communicates a certain vulgar dislike. So one might say that there’s nothing wrong with sticking up one’s middle finger, but then again, there’s something quite wrong with sticking up one’s middle finger. And of course, the human mind is legalistic, so we like to pick at nits and split hairs about things like this, and I’m sure someone’s going to read this and go, well what about if I accidentally wipe my eye with my middle finger? Have I sinned? And I will, of course, tell that special someone to go soak his head.

All this to say that we just need to know what things mean. What does the middle finger mean? Well, that’s obvious. And if it’s not obvious, I’d suggest taking it up with your village’s elders. What does spikey hair mean? That’s suddenly not so obvious. There are those who will suggest that it implies rebellion. And — in my own view — it did, at least fifty years ago. But we no longer live in an age where one can count on one’s castle to stand for three hundred years; cultural mores change quickly, and they didn’t have so much gel in the 18th century.

This means more than anything that the debate has shifted. It’s shifted from what do the scriptures say? (which is, admit it, pretty darn clear) to how do I apply this culturally?. And this tends to be a more difficult task. I, for one, am not trained to think in the context of now. I live and act in the context of now, but hardly think that way. Which is interesting, because it seems that we argue in a perfect world and fail at living out that perfect world in an imperfect reality; we’re all like closet communists, refusing to take notes on human nature, preferring to discuss how Marx would function in Utopia.