bierkergaard

"Being a writer is a bit like being in a war sometimes. Careers are strange, with unexpected gains and losses. People are on your side until they're not. The blank page can feel like a battlefield. It's good to have an ally to talk it through with, and Ned Vizzini was the best kind of ally to have in that particular war. You wanted him in your literary trench."  Writer Cecil Castellucci  in a tribute in the Los Angeles Review of Books of Ned Vizzini Ned Vizzini has committed suicide. He had written poignantly about his Depression. I think we do a disservice in some ways to call Depression a mental illness. For Depression is a reasonable response to an unreasonable world. Watch out who we call mad. We all are madder than we think. Perhaps the mentally disturbed only are affected more profoundly by a broken world. The banality of evil. The normalcy of the abnormal. We have to legitimize Depression in order to face it squarely. Usually, people have good reason

John 10:22 Now it was the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter. I came across this verse as part of my morning devotional. I have made it a practice to go back to the Bible and read the verse mentioned in my morning readings and try to get the context of the verse as one would a star in the sky or a jewel in a crown. I don't know why I found the mention of it being winter to be so poignant. Seeing Jesus in my mind's eye in the winter weather and seeking shelter in Solomon's Porch/Temple has both prosaic and profound layers. We had four snows in the last week so I had been primed for wintery reflections. On the practical level, Jesus in His humanity, is cold. Jerusalem, due to its elevation, experiences colder temperatures than most of Israel. It is truly a "City on a Hill." And it snows. With the profound layer, the Temple was the epicenter of Jewish culture and the ground zero of Jerusalem. About a century and a half before, the Maccabee

Is. 53:2 He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. I am a Levi's blue jeans man. With the rivets. Always have been, the epitome of coolness. I have gradations in blue jeans for different uses--like a caste of clothes. I have work blue jeans for internal and house use when I am chilling and working, outside blue jeans for public viewing and interaction with fellow humans, and the elite "Skinny" blue jeans when I am attempting to be a Hipster, minus the explosive and expansive facial hair. What beards! I think Jesus would wear blue jeans if He was in the flesh walking around in the world today. He was a blue-collar carpenter, doing His final and best work on the wooden Cross. Nails, wood, work unto redemption, sweat of the brow, and anguish of the soul. Wearing blue jeans to Church on Sunday is an act of Sabbath. For some, wearing blue jeans on Sunday would remind of them of work. Not me, wearing a

It is a snow day from school, thus I am watching Nelson Mandela's Memorial Service being beamed from South Africa into my living room through CSPAN. CSPAN is my favorite television station minus the pontificating politicians and panderers, Left, Right, and in-between. Cut them out like a piece of gristle from the steak on the plate. I would can Comcast if it were not for CSPAN. I read the autobiography of Nelson Mandela a couple of summers ago. I have always preferred non-fiction and real stories versus the make-believe. The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings finally broke through my resistance to fiction, for they had much facts in them. I gained a greater appreciation for the man, his story, and his struggle. He was not a perfect man, far from it. Yet, he made many decisions that steered South Africa away from a Zimbabwe-like end where the oppressed became the oppressor like that ugly and violent man Robert Mugabe. European Imperialism and its modern-day emanat

I am one who dreams significantly. My psyche texts me videos when something momentous is at play. Basketball, the source of some of my greatest frustrations, tends to be a court for my nocturnal imagination. I have some victories in basketball, but more defeats. I recall when I was working on my Dissertation Proposal, I had a dream that I was playing in a five-on-five basketball game and Kobe Bryant was on my team. He was getting ticked at me because every time I tried to grab the ball it became like a feather and would float away from me. I would try to grab the ball and I just couldn't get a grip on it.  A greased and floating pig. Yes, it was a true revelation. Seemingly, the harder I worked, the more the prospects of completing the Dissertation would bounce and drift away from me. My Kobe advisor essentially demanded more and more when I gave more. Being a hard-worker, this academic catch 22 was really messing with my head. It was exhausting and I was existentially beaten

  Matthew 28:20 I am with you always, even to the end of the age Since our corporate commercial kingpins have decreed open season on shopping Thanksgiving Day (who is hunting who?), like deer season on Monday here in Pa, it made sense to mix Thanksgiving and Christmas. Giving thanks for God with us, Jesus. God with us is typical a Christmas theme, Babe in the Manger type of deal. As Letterman noted, with today being Black Thursday, Christmas is Saturday. Most of the things we give God thanks for are passing. The Cornucopia is stuffed like a turkey with items of the world. Christ is in His good gifts, but is greater than the gifts. For He is the giver of all good things. When I contemplate and reflect on my life before and after Christ--for we all have B.C. and A.D. in our souls--where the timeless came into time--eternity incarnated, it is not a study on a life of difficulty vs. ease. In fact, in many ways life is harder as a Christian. But it is good hard.   I am coming o

  Genesis 9:13   I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.   I snapped this picture one-handed with my iPhone while driving 60 mph across the Susquehanna River Bridge. Don't recommend doing that unless one has to take a pic like this. My steering wheel was the shaky tripod.   The photo is hardly a true representation of the majestic sight. As I pulled over after crossing the bridge, I saw a complete rainbow from horizon to horizon, like a giant smile across the sky. I don't recall ever seeing the whole rainbow from end-to-end ever.     The rainbow in the Bible is a sign to mankind of God's grace. Post-Noah, we can look to the rainbow and see the colors of God's compassion to humanity. The flood was judgment, the rainbow a promise of redemption. The river is a baptism of sorts into the reality of the brokenness of the world. I drive west daily to engage culture vocationally as a high school coun

"People are softened by the forced reflection of loss." Into the Wild I camped out Friday night. In my living room, in front of my TV fire. that hearth of flickering images and sound. I had one of those sleeping bag inflatable mats to cushion the carpeted terrain of the floor. Roughing it. I have been wanting to go on a riff and rant about television recently but then have had some new experiences that I wish to add to my thoughts. Since I am only blogging once a week, I need to merge a whole seven days of mulling my thoughts into a coherent diatribe of madness. I even made a skillet of bacon in the morning. If I die of a heart attack, no autopsy needed. Probably was the half of a package of bacon I eat every Saturday. Perfectly cooked. No more dumping the grease with soap down the kitchen drain. The last plumbing bill of $ 250 has compelled me to take the grease out back and pour it into the grass. No qualms about pouring the grease into me though.      Earl

    When looking to buy a new devotional back in September. I decided to go back to the future sans the DeLorean and purchased this book at Books-A-Million in York.   BAM is the locational replacement for Borders. It is lower on the book food chain but I am glad that York still has a mainstream book store. Some vacant retail locations get filled with those Rent-A-Centers, like radioactive fall-out immune cockroaches. When you see those predatory stores appear, know that the bomb has dropped on a community's commercial environment. Those rent-to-own establishments prey on people who can't do math and want more than they can afford. Sounds like the housing meltdown. Just sign here, here, here, here. Capitalism without a conscience created, yes created, the monster of Communism. The invisible hand of the marketplace is always attached to the wealthiest arm and strongest body political power. I dare you Free Marketers to prove me wrong.   In the rise of the Digital E

Yesterday, while biking through Gettysburg's Battlefields, I crossed paths with a couple walking by who had a dog that essentially was an elongated Beagle. A different breed but the markings of a Beagle, a hound, with his tongue a-wagging. I stop for Beagles and their next-of-kin to pet them up a bit. It is a win-win. The dog gets some affection and I get my Beagle fill. My Dad kept going on his bike which caused us to have to meet back at the car because I lost his trail. I had a Beagle when a child. He was perhaps the most ADD and stupid dog I have ever known. But, Ol' Gus was lovable.  At least I thought so. While we were living in West Virginia, family lore has it that he got into a neighbor's garbage cans once too often and was shot. I remember him bleeding on the bathroom floor and my mom telling my older brother and I while we were in the back of the family Falcon automobile, that Gus had died from his wounds. At least he died doing something he loved. I still

Last Sunday to and fro from our church gathering, three people and a couple, asked me for money, food, drink. I almost always say "No" but then feel guilty as sin when I do. I compromised with the couple and bought them Chinese Take-Out. I got them guilt-ridden General Tso's with convicted sugar sauce. I wanted redemption from a previous encounter (below) that left me with a bad taste in my conscience. One of the individual's begging before church copped an attitude when I said "No" before he asked... and I amped on him, basically telling him to get out of my face. I tried to track him down a minute or two later to explain to him my frustration with being on the receiving end of peoples' incessant begging for hand-outs. I also wanted to apologize for being unnecessarily harsh. I hated myself for not treating him with dignity, regardless of how he was treating himself. He had vanished like a ghost. I assume that each of these five people were

Romans 12:19 Avenge not yourselves, beloved, but give place unto the wrath of God: for it is written, Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, saith the Lord. There are several things that make me wroth. Nothing beats the King James for hard and precise words. Biblical whiskey versus The Message spritzers. Confederate Flags on trucks/cars/tee-shirts and the idiocy of those who defend Southern slavery vis-à-vis "States Rights," "Northern War of Aggression,"  and all that pernicious propaganda. I have heard more than one present day hard-core Southern Presbyterian--the historical theological defenders of American slavery--still say this in the 21st century, as do their less erudite redneck half-cousins. Calvinism has a lot to answer for in its defense of the indefensible. Slavery unleashed a scourge upon the land that is still not yet been stopped. A legacy of the divided mind and soul of Thomas Jefferson--that great Humanist who had his slaves co

I was driving back from an Oktoberfest Party last night listening to The Beatle's One Album CD --all of their # 1 hits. "Let It Be" is later in the tracks. The songs go chronologically historically. Let It Be was written by Paul McCartney when The Beatles were on the cusp of breaking-up. The jaws of Beatlemania has taken a lot out of the boys. It is hard to be idols and not fragment under the adulation. When people want fame and fortune and fail, there is regret. Odd that when an individual or entity gets Fame and Fortune, there is also regret. Perhaps even worse, because of the hope that was placed on it and then found wanting. Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin ‎ If my life was a series of song tracks, my CD is probably about 3/4's through. Turning 50 on Friday, October 11 reminds me that my life on this Earth is spinning down as it plays. I am not sad about it. Time is not in my hands but in God's. Trying to control the uncontrollable makes one inconsolable. I

     I was reminded of a Charles Schulz Peanuts cartoon this week on GoComics that I last recall seeing when I was in college when perusing my Peanuts books. It is about adversity with Lucy "Dr. Is In" telling hapless Charlie Brown that "Adversity prepares one for the things of life." Charlie Brown gets quizzical and asks "What things?" and she replies "More adversity."     That comic created a place for me to contemplate adversity seriously yet to also get the last laugh so to speak.     Let me take a quick jog down Memory Lane here. I had scored a slew of Peanuts books, all of them original editions or close to it, from a childhood neighbor. Us kids would get together and trade stuff occasionally. Usually, it was crap for crap. An eye for an eye commerce. Nothing special. But, on this given day, I got the better deal by far. I have no idea what I bartered on my end but I cannot imagine it was anything worthwhile. My neighbor

Yesterday, I made a trip down to Western Chester County to watch some rugby. Dumb me, I made the mistake of heading down Route 30 through the very heart of what makes Lancaster County distasteful. Outlet shopping malls adorned with logos of Amish Buggies (Rockvale) and Grain Silos (Tanger). Odd mixing of crass commercialism and the rural nature of the county. I had thought of going another route, but in the end, it would have taken me the same amount of time however East I went, due to lower speed limits on less traveled roads and the like. I played rugby for a club in West Chester back in the day called Brandywine. It is the 30th anniversary of the team so I thought it would be fun to catch up with any of the guys still around from two decades ago. Old rugby players never die, they just can't walk after a while. The game is very punishing physically, and the half-life for participation should be about two to three years. As it was, I played six seasons. Three for Brandywine a

One of the best things that has happened in the last year for me is the return of the cycle. Bicycle, that is. While I was in Ph.D. studies, I lived in "Safe Mode" physically--besides driving down to Philly each week or so for ten years--I mostly stayed away from danger to avoid what I termed a discontinuous event (on and off road). I didn't want to crack my cranium, leaking knowledge as well as neurological capacity. When I earned my Ph.D., I promised myself that I would get a good mountain bike. Not the hybrid mongrel Trek that I have that is a mix between street and mountain bike. It is geared like a mountain bike and has some other mountain bike traits, without being truly trail ready. Ironically, it is best on the road where there are a ton of hills, where the gearing makes a big difference. Most street bikes don't have the high gears. Well-suited for this part of hilly Pennsylvania. Although I now have a sweet mountain biking with the proper breeding, sho

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Wednesday afternoon was over 90 plus degrees here in Pa. Summer is going out swinging yet I am happy to note that premonitions of Fall are in the air despite the up-and-down tug of warm versus cold. Fall is my favorite season. Summer's heat mellows into a melancholic brew of warmer days and cooler nights. If Pennsylvania had a thermometer, I'd set it on this cycle. Friday night I was drinking a couple of beers with a couple of buddies (literally two beers and two friends) outside of a local establishment. It was cool and breezy and I finally felt summer being exorcised from my bones. I was enjoying an Imperial Pumpkin Ale to celebrate the cooling. I get this odd itch over the summer where I can't shower without causing an outbreak of itchiness all over the top half of my body. Like a Plague or being attacked by Siberian mosquitos. It

Romans 8:26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. I am in a lull spiritually these days, not depressed or anything, but just a dry season. Not a crisis of faith but more of a time of waiting and thinking. I have found solace in Paul's writing of the following verse above, the great apostle admitting that he did not know what to pray for. We often don't view Paul, the writer of the magisterial Book of Romans, this way with hesitations and doubts. Questions versus answers. It is necessary at times to pause and just be, where we recognize that is normal be perplexed and confused, and to not have all of the answers. Or even try to. To grant that it is a world of complexity and just because we are certain of some key doctrines doesn't mean that everything falls in line. For instance, when Paul writes that there is "No condemnation for those i

From the Bazooka Joe Comic Aphorism School of World Diplomacy , "When two dogs get in a fight, the third should keep his distance." Bazooka Joe gum is not very good, neither are the actual comic strips coming with the wrapped gum. However, the sayings on the bottom of the comic were and maybe still are unusually prescient. For years, I chewed Bazooka Joe. After the first initial download of sugar, it just turned into a wad of putty. No flavor and hard on the jaws to chew. So, I quit chewing it. But I still recall reading that "third dog" quote. Both dogs in the fight in Syria have foul and rabid natures. Extreme Sunnis and extreme Shiites once again going for each others' jugular, just a different country. There are innocents in the middle but damned if we are going to be able to protect them from either side. We have to stay the hell out of there or become part of the hell in there. The best that all the outside powers can try to do is staunch the flo