bierkergaard

I have consumed my yearly Burger King Whopper, chocolate shake, and french fries. I do this annually after fulfilling my responsibilities as the Test Supervisor for the SATs. As non-fun as the SATs are for students, I assure you that they are exponentially much less fun for me. I get stressed because this one test does much to determine the path that students take after high school and I want to make sure that the administration goes well. So much is riding on it.  But, I do get paid and that helps ease the pain. Why I punish myself more to eat fast food is hard to fathom. I must hate myself... I am not sure how I got into the ritual of doing the BK run after the SATs. I think it may derive from when I was a kid and my dad would take us once a year to Burger King and then we would head to a Phillies game. The Whopper developed almost mythic proportions in my child's brain. Like Rosebud in Citizen Kane. The Burger Grail. I no longer deify Whoppers, yet it does seem appropriat

James 2:26 As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead. As I write, I am watching a musical performance of "The Piano Guys" on PBS television. That Liberal Labrynith of Destruction according to the Mullahs of the Hard Right. Wonder what is on the entertainment side of Fox Television right now? Well, lets go check. A NASCAR and Fox commercial promotion for a race in "Sin City." If it weren't so hypocritical of Fox, the wily predator, to promote Conservatism on its news end and an admiration for cars going around in a circle for hours in "Sin City" I could laugh. The announcer doesn't seem particularly concerned about the sin in the city. Matter of fact, it all sounds rather alluring. Since no one could accuse me of not having Conservative cred, I am just trying to be consistent to what I believe. One would think musical performance inspiring our culture with beauty and goodness might just be given a better sha

Ecclesiastes 3:1 For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven Today is the 40th anniversary of the classic rock album Pink Floyd's  "Dark Side of the Moon." I recall first listening to the album back in late '70's or early '80's. My older brother had just bought a sweet Harman Kardan stereo receiver and kicking speakers. I had, of course, had heard the songs on the album before, I just don't recall doing so. Our house was a Disco Free Zone and we only listened to Classic Rock--and by the late 70's or sooner this work by Pink Floyd was already in the Pantheon of the Rock Acropolis. Instant Karma Classic.  With the stereo and speakers arrival, it made an auditory memory that lasts to this day. One of the tracks, "Money", had a cool back-and-forth tracking vibe between the speakers and I was fascinated by the engineering and musicianship. My older brother Mike had a rabid anti-Disco fever bordering

Job 38:22 Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail? Well, here is hoping that we get a substantial amount of snow on Tuesday to Wednesday. The weather forecasters are revving up the snow making media machine. The local paper does a good job  of telling it straight meterology-wise. WGAL, the big TV affiliate locally, ramps up the hysteria and hype. Like they have never seen snow before--as if we live on the Equator. The pic above is during the last big storm where I did my LeBron pre-game ritual. Does he still do that?    I think it is crucial to have one big snowstorm a year. It is a hard-reset of reality. Everything comes to a stop except for the errants who drive when they don't have to (to probably pick up the eggs and milk). Me, I feel like a need a case of beer and I am set. The Germans call beer liquid bread and I say Ja to that. Work can wait.   A big snow storm imposes a heavy burden literally. My old back

Hebrews 4:15 For we do not have a High Priest who cannot suffer with our weaknesses, but One who was tempted in all things like we are, apart from sin. I was doing some reading the other week and came across some work by Simone Weil, the French writer and thinker. The myth of The Fisher King was central in her life mission of caring for others' pain and suffering. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders and was broken by it, and died quite young. Love her quote: “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity,”    The Fisher King is an aged king who has a grievous wound in his thigh, incapacitating him; all he can do is sit, ice-fish fruitlessley on a frozen pond. A young knight, brash, bright, and bold, approaches the king an asks him where the Holy Grail is. The old king is silent. And the young ambitious knight leaves. Thirty years later, the young knight returns to the frozen pond where the old king is still fishing. The young knight is however no