Child of Dust — Thrice

Dear prodigal, you are my son and I
Supplied you not your spirit, but your shape.
All Eden's wealth arrayed before your eyes;
I fathomed not you wanted to escape.

And though I only ever gave you love,
like every child you’ve chosen to rebel;
uprooted flowers and filled the holes with blood;
ask not for whom they toll the solemn bells.

A child of dust to mother now return;
for every seed must die before it grows.
and though above the world may toil and turn,
no prying spade will find you here below.

Now safe beneath their wisdom and their feet,
Here i will teach you truly how to sleep.

Come All You Weary — Thrice

The Unwinding Cable Car

Trying to wrap up end of quarter papers, hence the relative silence. How bout a song then?

This one's for the kids

The Almost - Amazing because it is.

Faust, Midas and Myself — Switchfoot

A haunting little tune by Switchfoot with an interesting stoy-like progression. When I filter this song through the grid of my life experience, the line that jumps out at me is where he points to what he sees as the "beginning of life"...

What direction?
What direction?
Life begins at the intersection

essentially, "what are you living for?"

Anything jump out at you?

Oh! Gravity

I was planning on posting my most favoritest song from the latest Switchfoot album, but then I saw the video for "Oh! Gravity" (also good) and I couldn't resist giving it a little exposure. I'll follow up later with the song I actually intended to post. Enjoy!

Drawn away by the sun

My apologies for being slow to comment and quick to let conversations drop lately. Fact of the matter is, it's just to incredibly nice out to stay inside ruminating on complicated philosophical/metaphysical/theological conundrums.

Then yesterday the massacre in Virginia hit and I'm finding it hard to sit down and think on these issues that can often seem far removed from real life. Especially when you look at how my debate with Stephen is going.

I know the thought precedes the action. Because of that I know these conversations we have here have the possibility to shape reality. Perhaps only in a small way, but who knows. Even so, as the weather turns warm I want to make sure I'm spending all the time I can with my wife and little boy. Over lunch I'll probably want to go for a walk with Brad rather than stare at a computer screen.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there will probably be a slow down over the temperate spring and summer months. I'll still be around commenting when I can, but the level of intensity will probably be lessened. Don't be put out if I don't get around to responding to a comment. You are still helping shape my mind with each contribution you make.

Having said that, I think it's about time for a song. All together now! ...

...and now for something completely different

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin.
Give the audience a grin.
Enjoy it. It's your last chance, anyhow.
So,...

My Anthem

After months of long running debate over here it rather gave me the chills when I first heard this song. Though I may say many things in this blog using many words this song pretty much encapsulates my position... Not to mention it RAWKS!!! It's called Of Dust And Nations by Thrice. Enjoy.

The towers that shoulder your pride,
The words you've written in stone,
Sand will cover them,
Sand will cover you.
The streets that suffer your name,
Your very flesh and your bones,
Sand will cover them,
Sand will cover you.

So put your faith,
In more than steel,
Don't store your treasures up,
With moth and rust,
Where thieves break in and steal.
Pull the fangs,
From out your heel.
O'We live in but a shadow of the real.

Step out from time,
See the dust of nations.
Step out from time,
Hear the stars' ovation.

Saturn will not sleep until,
The sand has made us clean
Still we stack our stones and bury what we can,
But it all will be undone,
And nothing built under the Sun,
Will Ever stand before the endless march of sand.

So put your faith,
In more than steel,
Don't store your treasures up,
With moth and rust,
Where thieves break in and steal.
Pull the fangs,
From out your heel.
O'We live in but a shadow of the real.

So put your faith,
In more than steel,
Don't store your treasures up,
With moth and rust,
Where thieves break in and steal.
Pull the fangs,
From out your heel.
O'we live in but a shadow of the real