Tiers and Christmas

Been silent for a while, which isn’t too good. I’ve been busy with work, and believe me, time to rant just got much, much shorter.
That’s OK. No ranting from me today. I promise. Just a few opinions I’d like to share—and don’t worry—I regard all opinions as equal.
Only some are more equal than others. Just kidding… with many apologies to George Orwell. My posts’ll probably come once in a while, and they will have a special, four-tiered structure:

Tier 1
“What you waiting for, Christmas issit?”
“Yes, sergeant!”
December 25. It could be any other day. In fact, from Luke’s description of the weather it probably was some other day.
Ignore the fact this post is like a shopping mall in late October—decorations put up way ahead of time.
Let’s forget the fact the Catholic church set the date to coincide with the pagan Saturnalia.
Let’s forget about mythological heroes of the crop born on the same day.
Never mind that the early Anglican church was so allergic to December 25, they had entire congregations arrested for celebrating it in the seventeenth century.
Step away from Santa’s chair for a minute. The guy only comes once a year, and frankly, he has to divide his attention among billions and billions of kids. And don't bother looking for him yet; it's only October.
Don’t even look at the Nativity scene in your local mall for a minute.
As we get nearer this glorious day we commemorate as the beginning of God’s life as a man on earth, cast away the baggage that has grown around it. Distil it until its true meaning emerges—not the date, but the day.
The one day in history shepherds witnessed the arrival of a King, up close.
The day an unbroken line of prophets dreamed of—the day God Himself would put things right through a holy people.
The only night the sky was filled with singing angels.
The night the Son of God awakened to find His reach, once extending billions and billions of light-years, galaxies and nebulae, now had trouble hitting thirty centimetres.
The night He cried, the night He first knew He was hungry. His voice had spoken the cosmos into existence, and set it along its very foundations—gravity, electromagnetism, and atomic forces. Now it couldn’t even speak intelligibly.
Possibly, the first night He found Himself trapped in a dimensional prison. The Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, would now have to live one second at a time, 3600 seconds an hour, in a world confined to length, width and depth.
And a night that marked the beginning of a journey. A journey that would take Him to the most painful, most undeserved death ever—a horrible way for a mere man to die, and worse still for a God.
Omnipotent, all-knowing, and infinite Spirit, becoming a flesh-bound man suffering everything from body odour to puberty to death, pimples to sore hands to whip- and nail-gouged wounds.

April Ryan of The Longest Journey (Funcom, 2000) has nothing on him. This is truly the longest journey of them all.

Tier 2
After North Korea launched a test nuclear warhead, columnist Patrick M. Cronin immediately declared it as a “failure of US statecraft”, and want about analysing solutions for containing North Korean interests. Others speculated on what the rogue “hermit nation” might be hoping to achieve, and the world is mostly telling them, “Now, just be good little boys, and we’ll take these sanctions off you and let you feed your people again.”
Excuse me while I increase the volume. It’s not getting through that interference in my head called incredulity.
Since when did any negotiation with North Korea regarding its nuclear ambitions actually work? The aforementioned columnist actually concluded the launch as a failure of American diplomacy because he believes, at least in part, the lie that the North Korean government are reasonable men. They are capable of diplomatically finding a resolution. They are capable of listening to a logical argument thoughtfully presented. Oh, sure. And I can sell these analysts a very nice piece of land. It’s on Mars and may one day house a colony.
Yet if any thriller writer had a fictional North Korea sweet-talked into submission and abandonment of its nuclear program, he would be laughed out of the publishing house.

And this is the fantasy world diplomacy advocates inhabit. The very reason why Bush wants to see a disbandment of the North Korean nuclear program before diplomacy can take place is that he sees negotiation hasn’t worked to do so before, and it won’t do so today. Instead of taking away the cause and demanding the effect, as Cronin would have it, he is putting up a condition and asking for its fulfilment. The Kim regime has always made it clear it possesses weapons-grade plutonium. Does anyone think any amount of sanctioning is going to change that? Reader’s Digest and Time have reported for years on malnourished North Koreans in prison camps and eating grass, so I don’t think any fallout (no pun intended) is going to be felt over there.

Another column tries to make sense of Pyongyang’s test. That’s fine. The more we knew why North Korea spends so much more on its prized nuclear weapons programme and military than on healthcare, food production and education, the better. But there will come a point when we have to confront this for the ugly truth it is.

This is too precarious an issue for me not to research it further. Wish me luck!

Tier 3
Man, Paul Coughlin has been reading my diary. I say this because I’ve been reading and rereading his book No More Christian Nice Guy and believe me, I’ve never felt I needed a Christian book so much in my life.
I used to be—in some ways I still am—a Christian Nice Guy. I deliberately gave in to other people’s wishes and scoldings to avoid conflict, wrongly thinking such submission to be somehow Christian. Turn the other cheek? Check. Take injustice with a smile and an ‘it’s all right’ grin plastered on my face? Check.
Well, Coughlin told me it wasn’t all right. He proves it too, taking readers through example after example of both church and secular culture telling lies that demean the role of men. For instance, “when men have been allowed more say in the creation of children, they’re told all that’s needed is their sperm—forget about their protective love and masculine guidance.”
Jesus and the apostles told us to be like Him. And studying the behaviour of Christ in the Gospels, I can tell what He did that I wouldn’t. The writing cut into my heart in a way I’d never felt before—instead of hiding my masculinity and getting ridden over as I was in my previous unit, I could act with God’s approval (and, I hope, protection). I can now safely, and unregrettably, tell some people I’ve met not to give me any more of their bullshit. I won’t name names, but you get the picture.

The book is extremely well-written, with its target audience, CNGs, feeling that he is on our side, helping us see the problem before us all the time. No here’s your problem, go tackle it you losers. God bless you, Mr. Coughlin. The church needs more men like you.

Though if there’s one thing Coughlin is guilty of, it’s hyperbole. It may be OK to exaggerate somewhat, but I have a hard time believing “Self-reproach smashed my nose into the pee of my worthless self” when he was growing up. Such abstractions, while vivid, don’t help us see the problem. All we see is a guy beating himself up in print—Snap out of it! was what I wanted to tell him.
But is it a great book? Sure. I have no qualms about EDITOR’S CHOICE-ing it. If only my church, and indeed my Church, lived up to this sound, biblical teaching.

But my plug probably isn’t enough to convince you how urgently Christian men need this book. Visit its Web site at www.christianniceguy.com. Then buy it, I urge you.
Then prepare for the Good Guy Rebellion, something I want—and need—to do.


I’d like to paraphrase The Godfather’s Michael Corleone to avowed atheist David Mills: “But please don’t tell me my Lord never existed. That’s insulting my intelligence. And it makes me very angry.”
I’ve just read his book Atheist Universe: Why God didn’t have a thing to do with it, and frankly I’m unimpressed with his arguments. Never mind that Amazon.com is probably against me on this, but I found he uses old arguments, sets up straw men to knock down, then goes: “C’mon, this is what Christians believe! Aren’t they silly?”

Rather than go through every objection he raises (and believe me, some are tough) I’ll tackle several core assumptions, just to give anyone reading this an idea of what to expect.

1.) Jesus probably didn’t exist anyway. Therefore all supposed ‘proofs’ of the Resurrection were invalid.
Hello, Mr. Mills? Were there martyrdoms in Rome? Yeah, sure. Ever tried asking a Harry Potter fan if they’ll die for his name, to keep his books in print, to ensure the boy wizard will always be read by someone, somewhere? Even when the hype so saturates the news that now any talk about Harry Potter is censored, and anyone reading one of the books is threatened with death. Would fans recant their interest in a fictional character with their lives at stake?
Rubbish. You die for something that’s the truth, for something you believe is real. And I think 500 eyewitnesses, four testimonies that have passed every test of accuracy thrown at them, and so many changed lives so soon would be better qualified to decide whether or not their Lord and Saviour existed than Mr. Mills is. And I’m sure their blood speaks for itself—they died in the hope that one day, they would live again.
Perhaps in another 1000 years people will begin doubting Mr. Mills’ existence, too.

2.) The Christian God demands a blood sacrifice, and threatens suffering and pestilence if He doesn’t get it. This is cruel and evil.
Mills’ idea of a benevolent god is one who would truly forgive sins and let bygones be bygones. If someone in his family slights him, he holds no grudge.
OK. Suppose his benevolent god forgives Mohammad Atta and gang for ramming the World Trade Center and Pentagon. Forgives Tojo and Hitler for some 40 million organised executions. Forgives the unrepentant serial killer down the street, forgives the white slave-beaters in his own country, forgives me for slamming his book. What would he tell Him?
That God went by Mills’ rules, didn’t he? Would you call such a God truly benevolent?

3.) Creationists use arguments that have been disproved long ago.
No, they don’t. He only picks arguments that have been long abandoned to address. Hands up all who agree the planets all move in perfectly circular orbits!
And can Mr. Mills point to a verse in the Bible that says this must be so?
I rest my case.

Mills picks and chooses which arguments work for his case and he can present with maximum emotional impact. Something like Coughlin does, but in a book on defence of atheism, such a selectiveness is frankly unforgivable. For instance, he talks of picketing a faith healer who insists that all those he heals stop seeking medical treatment as a show of trust in him… then suggesting all Christians adopt this thinking.
Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr. Mills. It makes me very angry.
Was the faith healer a representative of Christian beliefs? I don’t think so. Even Christ insisted the blind man he healed follow Temple procedure. “Go, show yourself to the priests.” You don’t get much more procedural than that.

Go ahead and buy it, though. It won’t make you an atheist, but it will make you think long and hard about Christians who continue to misrepresent the faith, and what onlookers might conclude. And that can make all the difference for some.

Tier 4
I love the food at Pastamania. No matter which outlet I go to the great taste is always there—be it creamy chicken pasta, lasagne or any of the oven-baked rice dishes I’ve eaten. True, it’s at the upper limit of my day-to-day food expense, but how the food fills me up repays the money I spend several times over. Let’s hope it doesn’t fall victim to the Overexpansion Curse—using a famous name to get away with mediocrity and very painfully-felt cost-cutting measures.
Choy!

And oh, yes, the famous Haze is back. I’m working on a story that exaggerates its effects somewhat, but trust me, it’s no joke when the very air smells of burning meat, your lungs feel like going for a vacation, and your head spins at the thought of going out. While ASEAN waffles, Indonesia burns. And everyone’s unhappy… except maybe landowners who slash-and-burn—quick, cheap and easy! Why’s everyone so unhappy?
Pretty soon the officials they pay off will be asking the same thing.