Happy Friday, folks!
Got some goodies for you today. Buckle up.
Don’t Hassle Me, I’m Local
Apparently, I’ve dressed the part today, tearing around town in my bright blue and yellow DON’T HASSLE ME, I’M LOCAL shirt from the cinema classic What About Bob. It’s not that I’m trying to act a rock in the pond like the Bob Wiley character that Bill Murray plays, but it keeps happening.
The post office line was delayed while I tried out the keys to the new PO box. Apparently, I’ve never used a key before. The enclosure had all the requisites and necessary attributes, and locked with a satisfying metallic chink. Yes.
The lady at the book printer has the patience of a saint, and my effusive thanks. Now the new astronomy book is laid out in the usual left-to-right format, and not in an Arabic style of the opposite. Thank you, Beth.
It’s still early. Watch out, world.
Boris Makes an Excellent Point
I’m learning how to use the historic Clark refractor telescope in Charlottesville. It’s MASSIVE, and the public is welcome to look through it. You don’t want to miss it!
In regards to a previous post about this (Shoot the Moon), a fellow skywatcher and club member made the excellent point about lack of scale in the photos. He kindly send a picture along for a remedy. Dig THIS. What a beast this scope is!
Cheers to the Dads
What a great weekend to toast the Dads and positive male influences! You know, the spirit that instills order, keeps the lighthouse lit, slays the dragon, mans the grill, shows us how to fix stuff…and watches golf. I’ll figure out the metaphysics of that last bit later. For our final morsel of the day, here’s one that I’ll be bringing up when I go to honor my father. Heads up, Dad, dig this!
Dance Floor Theology
The cup of coffee late in the evening had turned my eyes into cruise missiles. Zip! Boom! Woe unto whoever got laser locked. The West Coast swing event was happening, and I dropped by. Man is that twisting my brain (a six count over 4/4 time…what?) A group of college kids has been taking pity on me, showing me a few tricks of the genre. I feel a bit like their uncle Kramer or something. “Woah, Jerry!” Laser locked, I zipped up to the group. “Ah, and this man has been leading me to a scholarly godliness!” I boomed, clapping Jay on the shoulder. He looked up and sideways, warily. “Yes, yes, he has” I continued. “Telling me about different biblical translations and all. I got the English bible.” “The English bible?” “Yes yes, very good, very good. Enjoyed it. That bit at the end really got me. Didn’t see that coming.” They laughed.
A bit later, after putting a few gracious ladies through something halfway between shoulder dislocation and mild enjoyment, I laser locked onto him again. Amazing what one cup of coffee will do.
“Jay! Tell me something cool!” Again he looked up and sideways, warily. His youthful face was serious, and didn’t seem inclined to impart. But then he did.
“So I was reading some Greek today, and learned something. The Greek word for teacher or master is “Kirios” (Josh’s note: this is most certainly misremembered on my part. It’s all GREEK TO ME!) The disciples would call Jesus Kirios, as he was their master, but they wouldn’t call another teacher that. At the Last Supper, when Christ announces his imminent betrayal, they each ask him “Kirios, is it me?” All except Judas, who says “Rabbi, is it me?”
My jaw hit the wooden dance floor that usually hosts pole classes.
“Right?” He said.
“So, he hasn’t placed Jesus at the highest point.” “Yeah, he’s just another rabbi to him.”
“And that’s what we do when we don’t aim at the highest point. We betray and sell out. It can all go sideways. Wow that’s deep, man.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a Luciferian idea - I know best. I’m God. And then that’s what happens.”
“Yeah.”
Then a girl came up, grabbed his hand, and he whirled away to the beat.
Cheers to the wisdom that is everywhere. And cheers to you! May your Friday be as funky as these two ladies dancing to James Brown yesterday at the show. See ya Monday!
Josh