Stop Hotlinking with htaccess! I got snagged by realpolitik.us for hotlinking to an image (a cartoon) on their site. That inspired some research into how to protect my own images from hotlinking.

Skizzle, Ma Chizizeweizle

Here’s a quote from a really deep thinker: “I like to expand my vocabulary by making new words…”

I’m on the Mercy Committee at my church and we deal with requests for assistance from people in the surrounding community. Some of the requests are made by honest people with legitimate needs. Some of the requests are not. We are rarely sure which is which. I’ve been doing this for something over a year now and I’ve never become comfortable with the fact that sometimes we have to tell people in need that the Mercy Committee has decided not to have mercy on them. At least not in the financial regard that they were hoping for. But you may help yourself to some nonperishable food items from our pantry.

We get lots of financial requests from people who have gotten shut-off notices from the power company. They will lose their power — their heat — unless they come up with X dollars by the end of the month. Can we please give them X dollars?

Sometimes there are good reasons not to give them X dollars. Some people scam well meaning charities. Some people are in an unsustainable situation where their expenses excede their income. We want to help avert a catastrophe, not just postpone the inevitable.

But no matter why mom or dad is asking for the money, they often have kids in the home that are going to be effected too. Think of those kids for a minute. Think of the completely false lessons a school-aged child might learn from living in a home without power. Imagine how they would feel at school knowing that for some reason they don’t have electricity at their house. The other kids talk about TV shows and Gameboy and microwave popcorn. These kids have all of that stuff too, and light switches and a thermostat, but none of that stuff will come on for them anymore. Are they somehow less than the other kids they go to school with? They can’t bring a lunch meat sandwich to school and they can’t have milk on their cereal in the mornings. How many days do you think they might still use a bowl and a spoon to eat dry cereal before realizing that, without the milk, there’s no reason not to just eat it from the box by handfuls? “Is this because of my parents? Should I be ashamed of my parents? Should I be ashamed to live like this?”

No! No, you should not be ashamed! No, this isn’t your fault. You are not less than your peers; those with more than you are not better than you; bad stuff happens sometimes but it does not define your worth; there are plenty of people with big hearts who hate that your parent’s financial troubles are going to wreak havoc with your self esteem. But all that said, I’m still not going to help your parents with their electric bill.

I hate this job.

I saw some stock footage on television of a large sailboat packed full of Haitian refugees fleeing for America. The main sail had gone slack and was falling away from the mast at the top, flapping wildly in the wind as it did so. It made it look as if the boat had no crew, only frightened passengers. And the passengers were packed in so tight that people were actually lining the edges of the boat with their legs and arms hanging over the rail. The boat was also listing terribly to one side and, combined with the wildly flapping main sail, looked as though it were just minutes from sinking.

I wasn’t ready to feel empathy — the news shows us boats packed with refugees all the time — but I was about to be painfully empathetic.

As this floundering wreck sailed by on my television screen I saw that one of the men with his legs dangling over the rail of the boat had a little boy of about 8 years on his lap. These two were on the side of the boat that was being rolled into the water such that this guy’s shoes were just a foot above the surface of the water. And I empathized.

What if that were me and Cora? If we go into the water I won’t be able to hold onto her. Can she swim? With all these people kicking and thrashing? Can she hold onto me to stay afloat? Can I stay afloat? How can this have gone so wrong? Why did I bring us to the middle of the ocean?

That man began a dangerous journey hoping for a better life for his son. After the hope is gone it’s just a dangerous journey and all your reasons for starting it would suddenly seem pretty shabby compared to the safety of your child.

I found a dead bird in my driveway this morning. Jesus tells us in Matthew 10 that something as small as a sparrow dying will not escape the notice of his Father. So apparently God was looking in my direction at some point last night or today watching this little thing expire.

The tie-in between this scripture and that little bird expiring on my lawn didn’t hit me until later. If God really bird watches then He was paying attention to something going on at my house this morning. Now the point of the scripture is that OF COURSE He’s paying attention to the stuff that goes on at my house because He even pays attention to little things like when birds are born and die. It was still sobering to think that one of Jesus’ illustrations had occurred right here.

In the New International Version of the Bible Jesus’ actual words were that not a single sparrow would “fall to the ground” apart from God’s notice. I’m somewhat complicit here because the dead bird had come to rest on my van and didn’t actually “fall to the ground” until I had chucked it there. The fact that I had played a role makes the feeling of this bible-in-my-life event more poignant. It’s obvious that anyone watching the disposition of that sparrow was watching me.

Some see the glass as half full; some see the glass as half empty; I just see enough water to drown in.

The fire alarm went off at our church after Sunday evening service this week. We weren’t really ready for that: the fire alarm going off while the building is full of people but no actual service is going on.

We’re ready for the alarm to go off during service: the Deacons have stations, the Sunday school teachers have walkie talkies, and the pastors have a set of instructions to read to the congregation from the pulpit.

But after church, while everyone is talking and mingling and leaving? Nothing. When the alarm went off most people acted as though the biggest problem being presented was the difficulty chatting with each other over the blare of the fire alarm. They were not fast to exit. Once outside they hung around the doors hoping to be let back in soon. This is in direct contradiction to the instructions the pastor would have read during a service, instructing them that they should move to the assembly points at the far edges of the parking lot so that the fire department had easy access to the building.

I sent a letter to the pastor documenting the failures I perceived that night and proposed solutions to each. I got a letter back saying, basically, lighten up. The building had been evacuated, the fire department had been unhindered, and that my suggestions were good in an obsessive-compulsive sort of way, but not to expect to see any of them implemented.

We all got out safely. The glass is half full.

We could have gotten out much faster. The glass is half empty.

Whether I share my ideas or not, the situation will be no different next time. Just enough water to drown in.

I’m male. I’m also the stay-at-home parent in my family. I believe that women, properly motivated, are as good as men in the workplace. I believe that men, properly motivated, are as good as women at nurturing children. Still, the fact that I’m a male and 99.5% of all other stay-at-home parents are female makes me wonder sometimes whether that’s really true.

While babytalking to my daughter at approximately 3:00 PM EST today, my ears heard this coming from my mouth in the falsetto sing-song reserved for cooing at babies: “…Is there nurturing you get from mommy that daddy just can’t provide?…”

Contemporary Relevance of Augustine’s View of Creation. It is common among Christians today to interpret Genesis 1 as saying that Adam and Eve were created immortal. Augustine asks why God gave them every seed-bearing plant as food. If they were immortal, what benefit did eating convey?

This photo of my family was taken on Christmas Eve when my brother Brad was on leave from the Army. A friend took the photo and just sent it to me tonight. This is also the week that my brother (center, no beard, non-infant) ships out to Iraq. I’m certain that this picture will be very important to my family and I over the coming year while he is deployed.

Carry on in the political sphere for or against the U.S. presence in Iraq as much as you want, but I hope everyone involved remembers that while politicians of all stripes gathered their rhetoric and went on TV my brother and people like him gathered their things and went into harm’s way.

SECRET ASIAN MAN is a cartoon in a class by itself. I can’t think of any others whose names derive from puns on Johnny Rivers song titles.