bierkergaard

I am working on an essay for Extracted Magazine about the similarities between specialty coffee and craft beer using my trip to Portland over Christmas vacation this past year as the context. In one of my lines in the essay I used the term "platonic ideal" and then had the realization that beyond the Cave illustration, I really didn't have a lot of knowledge about Plato and what he believed and wrote about. So, I quite literally dusted off this book above which, to my surprise, is a hard critique of Plato and his philosophy. This book was from my Philosophy 100 class in college and was one of the few tomes I have kept over the last three decades on my bookshelf from life at the university. I had not recalled that this book is a serious critique of Platonism. Which either demonstrates that I never had really read it to start or did read it, and forgot its main thesis. What struck me as odd in retrospect about it being a critique about Plato was we didn't first...

Back in 1987, the Stock Market had crashed somewhat. It was not a good job market for newly-minted college graduates like me. I planned to go to law school in a couple of years but wanted to work for a while, have some fun, and then figure out next steps. I eventually, mid-June, landed two positions. By day, I was an Estimator for the painting side of an up-and-coming construction company whose owner had another property management firm he was heading which took the majority of his time. That company wound-up making him a multi-millionaire and it is quite likely I could have risen with him had I stayed. He wanted me to work the painting crew for a spell so I could learn this side of the company from the inside out. I balked. I felt like I would wind up painting for a living when there were no jobs to bid. I was being groomed for bigger things he told me. I just had nagging fears that I would become a painter over the long-haul due to shifting winds.    At night and week...

When I moved back to my townhouse in November 2011, I was pretty beat up. I was down and depressed and these two felines greeted me.  The Welcoming Committee as it were. This pic was actually after I kicked them out of my kitchen. I had left the back screen door open while I was out fetching something out front from the move and these two let themselves in. I looked at them, they looked at me. I figured that my previous tenants had allowed them into the house and fed them. The cats/kittens had the look of, "Who are you?" I had the same question for them. The were feral but well-fed. The best of both worlds I suppose. A bit later, I heard a Latina Lady (or Latinx I guess is now the term) from a townhouse down the row calling for them in Spanish to give them some vittles. Who knew the cats were bilingual? As the years have gone by,  the two have become one. I think one of the guys fell down a sewer because I had heard a meowing from below the sewer grate a couple of y...

Been delving deep into the Book of James. One verse at a time. This is the next one in line: James 1:3  Knowing that the proving of your faith worketh patience. (ASV) We all want spiritual virtues to be added to us without us having to give anything up or having to experience events that would inculcate patience in us. Like minor annoyances to major adversities. That ain't how it works. As I read in my devotional this week, "God, make my back fit my burden."   I am a sucker for quotes and read one today on a Fitness website: Stay strong because things will get better. It might be stormy now but it can't rain forever... Rabbit Trail Alert : I drove by my old apartment in Lancaster City today and was reminded of the time back in the late 1990's when I wanted to become more friendly with the attractive German woman living across the street. I summoned the courage to put a note on her car windshield where I had translated into German the Les Mis song l...

“BEAUTY WILL SAVE THE WORLD” — FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY Yesterday, being Saturday, meant I had my To-Do List. Saturday's, for me, are the day to tie together loose ends. I typically to keep Sunday as a day of Rest and generally abide by this. Watching March Madness just seemed like a waste of time. Kids putting a ball through a rim. I used to be so utterly consumed by basketball that I have pretty much come full circle and deflated my affection for roundball. Although, the Sixers are starting to reignite my interest in a small little fire. I don't have much investment in the college game and am not terribly infatuated in the Sixers but will watch them when they play on national TV.     I was knocking out one To-Do after another until I came to a task that has been delayed longer than I wished: Writing about Portland, Oregon, for Extracted Magazine--a digital publication about Specialty Coffee. I was out in Portland over Christmas Vacation this last season. To remind myse...

I have jettisoned the iPad for blogging plan. Last week, it made sense but not now. I do use the iPad for my occasional freelance writing gigs. I like the informal riffing on it. Like a harmonica. I feel less pressure this way.  Otherwise I would get all mental. Thus, I have returned to the command center lap top upstairs in the U.S.S. Bierkergaard with the large screen monitor which supplanted the lap top screen that has an ever increasing blob of burned-out pixels. I also secured my wayward seat cushion on top of the wooden chair seat with a wife beater and shoe laces. So, the cushion no longer slips around. It is the small things that make a difference.  So, I went to bottle my Russian Mexican Imperial Milk Chocolate Morita Pepper Stout yesterday and the the hydrometer showed that it is not ready. I can ignore the data but then should gird myself for exploding glass bottles. It will take another week or so from what I can tell. To get ready to bottle however, I had...

My dreams when sleeping recently have been dull but dreadful in just an irritating way. Small things going wrong. I haven't woken up with a cold sweat. More just indigestion. My life is pretty good presently. I am in a rut but it is meaningful. I find purpose in my work and fun in my spare time. So, I am scratching my head as to why my dreams have become Kafka-like. Counsel thyself. For about a decade I decided to push the envelope and live on the edge. Go after a God-sized dream of transforming the conversation about the high school to college transition. Do the work, make the sacrifice, and suffer. All so that I could be seen as one who knew what he spoke and wrote about. Well, it didn't work out real well. Despite earning my Ph.D., it has done close to nothing in regards to opening previously closed doors. I am at peace with how it played out yet it has made me very reluctant to do anything similar in the future with such a heavy cost. No thanks. I like pain but not that m...