Archive for August, 2007
Media Education
Thanks to Rob Leahy of Simply Rugged for the link to the Dissident Frogman’s post about the recent blunder by the AFP in which they showed two cartridges in the hand of an old woman that purportedly were “bullets” fired at her house by US forces. If you take a look at the Dissident Frogman’s video you will see a well executed educational video designed to demonstrate the difference between a CARTRIDGE (shown in the AFP’s picture) and a BULLET (what would have struck the house of the woman if indeed US forces HAD fired at her). The only piece missing from the Dissident Frogman’s video is an actual, fired bullet to demonstrate exactly WHAT should have been shown if they wanted to fake the scenario in a reasonably credible way. Wait! Perhaps there’s a reason! Perhaps the Dissident Frogman desires to entrap the AFP into faking another such picture, this time showing the empty cartridge cases and claiming that THESE are the “BULLETS” that hit the house! THAT would be just TOO hilarious!
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The curse of the frontier
It was a grand old tree. We never ran a line around it to get the circumference but eyeballing it showed it to be at least 50 feet around. It wasn’t tall, compared to a Sequoia, but you could have cut a hole big enough to drive a semi through it if you wanted to – and could have gotten a semi in there to drive through it. In many ways that tree symbolizes part of my life. It stood unmolested by man for centuries – and then in a short period of time it was quickly hewn down and destroyed.
I was raised on the frontier. Araguaína was a “jumping off” town when we moved there the year I turned 8. Folks from all over came to town and then “jumped off” into the gold fields, the jungle, the newly opened cattle country and many other destinations. The main street of town was full of general stores where you could buy anything from gun powder to chewing tobacco to hand tools seen only in museums in the US – yet still sold in brand new condition to the settlers of the new land.
There was a small stream flowing down below the cliff where my Uncle Jim lived. It was full of “rabo de oro”, “cará” and “piába”- fish that would have cost a pretty penny in pet stores in the US. A short piece of six pound test, a size 22 hook, some cooked rice and we were good to go on a fishing expedition. Eventually we got cane poles, larger hooks and other bait, but those early outings taught me the basics of catching fish.
Sling shots were common. The most coveted by me was one that my cousin had – made from the inner tubes of the early earth moving machines that carved the Belém – Brasilia highway through virgin jungle. Something changed in the rubber they used and by the time I could pull one that source of rubber was worthless for our purposes. So surgical tubing propelled projectiles through forked sticks as we hunted the woods around and through town.
Dad acquired a lot “way out of town”, part of an old pineapple plantation that had gone to seed. There he built a house that forms the background of some of my fondest childhood memories. It was a good half hour walk or so across to Uncle Jim’s place and we’d get together with the cousins when possible. The area around the house was full of small game. Quail, various rodents, tiú lizards and countless smaller birds were our quarry. The lizards plagued our chickens, raiding for eggs and chicks. Dad kept the old 22 in the washroom where it was easy to hand with a full clip of ammo to try and put a dent in the marauders’ population. Possums also had a taste for chicken and provided some interesting episodes in our lives.
Some of the kids found an old chair with metal legs that someone had tossed into the weeds. The legs tapered down from the seat towards the floor and were very thin walled. The boys cut off a leg from the discarded piece of furniture, hammered the narrow end closed and bent it over then used a nail to fashion a flash hole. They bound it to a cut out board with inner tube rubber, loaded it with black market black powder and a few lead balls then touched it off with a match. It made a glorious “BOOM!” and emitted beautiful clouds of aromatic smoke and scared the black birds that were the target – while causing no damage other than ringing in their ears.
Well, we figured out that what they were doing was inherently dangerous. They could kill themselves that way! So, surely we could improve on their invention and come up with something safer – and yet more fun! In the meantime they went and blew up the first gun – by using the contents from a Brazilian firecracker for propellant. Bits and pieces surfaced, but a great portion was lost forever, even the hole blown in the sand pile where they’d rested it for the last shot soon vanished. Then they took a “36 gauge” (410) brass shotgun shell that one of the kids swiped from his dad’s hunting pouch and fitted it into the end of another leg from the discarded chair. They rigged a piece of iron in a U shape go guide a “firing pin” powered by a huge band of rubber. Upon the first firing the shell split – opening up and wedging itself inside the chair leg. From then on they loaded it like a muzzle loader – a muzzle loader with Berdan primers rather than percussion caps or a flint lock. With each shot the Berdan primer would fall out to be replaced with another that would be tapped in with the flat of a knife. Then they’d load it up like a muzzle loader for the next shot.
So we purchased a piece of 1/2″ galvanized iron pipe and a threaded cap. Using tools from my uncle’s shed, we cut threads on the pipe, fitted the cap and ran a block of wood in front of it to bring the breach forward of the last bit of exposed thread. In front of the block of wood we drilled a touch hole. It was then fastened to a block of wood in which we cut a groove as a “barrel channel” and usually fired via a piece of firecracker fuse or toilet paper with us hiding behind a tree. We then began loading with increasing charges of powder and proof firing. At 2″ of black powder the barrel cracked – right at the threads. So we backed off 75% and declared a 1/2″ of black powder to be our working load in the forthcoming shoulder fired muzzle loaders. Prior to testing to destruction we even tried using the cannon on game – your’s truly being the “chosen one” to aim at an iguana up in a tree and getting whacked good in the shoulder when the cannon shot out of my hands backwards. And no, the iguana wasn’t even grazed by our load of shot.
My cousin obtained a full brass 28 gauge shotgun shell from a local store. We then used epoxy glue to fasten it in a new piece of 1/2″ pipe. First he put a wad of paper in the shell with a string around it. He coated the shell with glue on the outside and slid it into the pipe. Holding the pipe vertical he pulled the wad out, thus smoothing out any remnants of glue left in front of the shell and left the pipe standing vertical to dry. He picked a piece of mahogany and cut it out in rifle shape. The mechanism was cut from thick aluminum and bent into a box shape. We never got a good trigger setup invented and had to hold the firing pin back and release it to fire the piece. The barrel was held in place with a couple of wide pieces of bicycle inner tube.
Mine was similar, only dad saw what I was doing and made me put a cap on mine. I ground the cap down a bit, flattened it on the back and drilled a hole big enough to reach the primer to allow decapping and recapping the piece. My stock was made from jatobá, a very dense Brazilian hardwood. Needless to say, it didn’t recoil much – as far as I could tell. That stock absorbed the recoil beautifully. But then Mom found out about the guns and they got retired to save the peace.
At that time one could buy a muzzle loader for about $5 at the open air market. There was plenty of black powder around in various brands and configurations. Although the national gun laws were quite strict one could obtain about anything one could wish for – if one had the $$$. Even a kid could walk into some stores and walk out with 100 grams of FFFg black powder, a bunch of lead and even full brass shells and Berdan primers or percussion caps – as long as he had the $$$. Fire crackers were common, as long as your finger and full of powder. There were “mortars” which were cardboard tubes with coarse powder at the bottom that launched firecrackers into the air a hundred feet or so where they’d explode.
One time we purchased a box of mortars (12) and took half the box apart to make one giant mortar. We made a stiff paper tube by rolling paper around a pipe and gluing it. Then we used a smaller pipe to roll a smaller tube to contain the explosive powder. The projectile carried the full load of powder from the six destroyed mortars. We only used half the propellant to launch it, saving the rest for use in our muzzle loaders. As luck would have it, July 4 fell on a Sunday that year. We had a long and busy day and no chance to celebrate. That night we got home about 9:00 and immediately set out to launch our invention. We propped the tube up, lit the extra long fuse and bugged out, back towards the house. The launch came with a satisfying “WHOOOOOMMMMMPPPP!!!” and we saw the fuse on the projectile as it sailed up and up, at least twice as high as the usual mortar. It reached the apex and suddenly let go with a window rattling “BOOOOOOM!!!!!” – waking the neighbors that had moved in a while before. Well, we didn’t feel to bad about that part since they didn’t feel bad about hosting parties ’til the wee hours of the morning.
In those days doctors were few and far between. The common folk often had no means of paying a doctor. Our family developed the means of treating many of the most common illnesses, for ourselves and others. The pharmacies would sell you anything you needed and reading gave us a knowledge of the drugs and their appropriate uses. Later, when my wife and I lived east of there, we were the only ‘medical personnel’ some folks ever saw. Our first aid kit’s contents dressed many a wound and provided relief for everything from amoebas to headaches.
Life on the frontier was wonderful. We could hunt and fish anytime we wanted. Freedom was a way of life. And that was the curse. Yes, we were limited in some ways, but the freedom, OH the freedom! Each one had to take care of one’s self, and the consequences of stupid decisions were often swift and brutal. One learned to get out of trouble one had brought upon one’s self. Yes, folks would lend a hand when needed, but self reliance was a way of life. Our dads were raised in the SW US and also knew the taste of freedom. How I enjoyed hearing their tales of life back then, and to me they passed that enjoyment of freedom – along with the curse.
You see, once you’ve known freedom you are not content to live under the laws of those who hate and fear freedom and self reliance. Once you’ve known self reliance – how can you submit to relying upon others? When you have a chronic problem, why should you go to a doctor when you know what he’ll prescribe anyway? When a mad dog enters your yard, why call the police rather than deal with it yourself?
So to this day it is hard for me to submit quietly to laws passed by folks who fear self reliance and freedom. Oh, I’m a law abiding citizen but when laws show idiocy I will say so. “Safety” “Security” – when one gives up freedom to obtain either, one gives up both and freedom as well. Neither in matters of politics nor religion do I see a need to think myself less a man than any other nor do I feel a need to depend on others to tell me what to think or how to live. Nor do I respect anyone due only to their education or income. I want to know, can they survive when things get tough? Is there an innate sense of manliness or are they all bluff and bluster with no true character? Will they attempt to use their position or wealth to lord it over others – either in times of plenty or, worse, in times of need? Experience shows that many of those who seek refuge in excessive laws and wealth WILL attempt to lord it over others when push comes to shove – and even in the daily grind of “normal life”. In the meantime, a country boy CAN survive – as long as he learned reliance on self and his Creator.
Simply Rugged
Rob Leahy, of Simply Rugged holsters, sent me one of his pancake holsters to use a while back. It’s a simple affair, made from thick, strong cowhide with slots cut for one’s belt to run through. The leather covers the revolver from the muzzle up to over the hammer. The gun rides high, allowing for easy concealment under an un-tucked shirt or a vest. The PPPPPP rides in the Simply Rugged pancake probably at least 80% of the time. I’ve found this to be the most secure way of carrying the pistol right at hand. The close fitting of the holster to the gun allows for a snug fit. You can do summersets and not lose your piece. And yet, the lack of a retention strap allows for a quick draw with no fumbling to release a snap or strap. This mode of carry provides protection for the pistol, secure, discreet carry and the means of self protection right at hand.
Thanks, Rob, for this effective means of carrying the PPPPPP! You make a great product.
On Reading The Bible – Proper Understanding
One of the biggest problems I see when folks read the Bible is a lack of proper understanding about the Bible and how it was written. If one uses a bit of logic when analyzing the Bible one can more easily understand what is written there.
The Bible is set up in two main divisions; the “Old Testament” and the “New Testament”. Jesus said “Not a jot nor a tiddle will pass from the Law (Old Testament) until all is finished (completed).” On the cross He said “It is finished.” The Old Testament is still an important book, but Jesus the Christ died to bring it to an end, to complete what was foretold therein, and to set up the NEW Testament whereby we can now come into the presence of God, our Creator. The night before He was crucified the Lord said “Take, eat, this is my body.” And then as He passed the cup He said “Drink from it, all of you. for this is My blood that establishes the covenant; it is shed for many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matthew 26:26-28) He was establishing a new covenant (testament) whereby many would be able to come into the presence of their Creator.
So, the New Testament is the more important of the two major divisions in the Bible. The Old can still teach us many things, but the way of the New Covenant is only found in the New Testament. The New Testament is divided into books. And the books can be divided into categories. First, there’s the Gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all contain the story of the life of Jesus Christ. They are similar and yet different because although they each tell the story of the life of the Christ, they are told according to the perspective of the person doing the writing. Matthew and John were Apostles of Jesus the Christ. They write what they saw and experienced as they followed Him. Mark was a companion to the Apostles and some say he was related to the Apostle Peter. Luke was a companion to the Apostle Paul and was also an excellent historian. Yet the four tell the same story, from different perspectives.
Next comes the book of Acts, ‘The Acts Of The Apostles” as some call it. It tells how the Church started and relates happenings from the early years of the Christian faith, ranging from the Ascension of Jesus the Christ to the imprisonment of the Apostle Paul in Rome.
The greatest number of books are comprised of the epistles. The epistles were letters written by Apostles and other prominent leaders in the Church to Christians and churches around the world. They are letters detailing how one should live according to the new life found in Jesus the Christ.
Finally we have Revelation or “The Apocalypse”. Many people jump right in there to see when Jesus the Christ will be coming back, hoping to “break the code” and have a solid date for His return. They waste their time. The message of Revelation can be summed up roughly as follows: “Those who are faithful to Jesus the Christ until the end of their lives have nothing to fear. They will overcome and will be rewarded.” There are no instructions on “how to be saved” in Revelation. One of the most mis-used verses in the world (Revelation 3:20) is actually a call to a CHURCH (folks who had already come to Christ) to open the door and allow the Lord to enter and sup with them. Read the context!
One of the greatest fallacies in Christian circles is attempting to find the way of salvation in the epistles. The epistles were written to churches and to people who were already members of Christ’s body, they contain information about WHAT HAPPENED at the time of salvation and even MORE information about HOW TO LIVE as a christian. But they do NOT contain information about HOW TO BE SAVED.
Here’s an analogy to help understand this assertion. Let’s say that you want to buy a new computer, but don’t know how to go about it. If I lived in your town I could give you help in figuring out the process and in picking out the computer you need and helping you to get it set up and running. But then I leave town for some reason. Later I write you a letter. There’s no need for me to tell you how to purchase a computer – you HAVE one! But now, how do you maintain it? So instead of advice on how to obtain a computer my letter would tell you how to keep it running good. I might go into detail about some aspects of the purchase process that you already underwent, with an eye to helping you understand the why of some detail or another, but the gist of the letter would be “Here’s how to keep your new computer running well and how to avoid problems.” That’s essentially what the epistles do, they explain how to keep that bright, shiny new life running smoothly – with occasional mentions of what happened when you obtained that new life to clarify a point or two.
The gospels don’t contain much information about how to be saved. They detail conversations between Jesus and the Children of Israel – who were still under the old covenant and thus were promised salvation through obedience to that old covenant. There are some glimpses into the future, such as when Nicodemus visited Jesus one night and towards the end of Jesus’ ministry when He was explaining “the next step” (Matthew 28:18-20; Mark 16:16 for example) But over all they are similar to the epistles – teaching folks how to live as Children of God.
So that leaves Acts. Acts DOES demonstrate several instances of conversions. If you’ll sit down and read through Acts several time you’ll start to see what’s happening. Make a list of each occasion of conversion – starting with Acts 2. Note what all happens in each and every circumstance. There’s a common thread contained in them all. The details are different from case to case – but there’s a common denominator in EVERY conversion in Acts. What is it? I’ll leave that to you, gentle reader, to look into.
Is is important for us to learn to read the Bible properly. It is important for us to learn to put things in context and use our heads to think through the message. God wrote in the tongues of men in order to communicate with men. Use your head and allow Him to show you the way – through the Word He has written through His Apostles and Prophets.
The Bible Stands
Thumbing through the hymnal in my office today (Favorite Hymns Of Praise – Standard Publishing – Copyright 1967) I came across a hymn written by Haldor Lillenas, both lyrics and music. I’ve never heard of him before, but like the words. I sure wish I could read (and play) music because I’d like to hear how it sounds.
The Bible stands like a rock undaunted
‘Mid the raging storms of time;
its pages burn with the truth eternal
and they glow with a light sublime.Chorus:
The Bible stands tho’ the hills may tumble,
It will firmly stand when the earth shall crumble;
I will plant my feet on its firm foundation,
for the Bible stands.The Bible stands like a mountain tow’ring
Far above the works of men;
Its truth by none ever was refuted,
And destroy it they never can.The Bible stands and it will forever,
When the world has passed away;
By inspiration it has been given,
All its precepts I will obey.The Bible stands ev’ry test we give it,
For its Author is divine;
By grace alone I expect to live it,
And to prove it and make it mine.
I’m a dinosaur
I’m a dinosaur, in many ways, I suppose. This fact is brought back to me each time I return to my earthly homeland. My memories include a time in which the mere possession of firearms was nothing to be surprised at and my family often enjoyed them at various family gatherings. It was natural and part of life. Dad and Mom raised me to be polite. It comes natural to say “Yes, ma’am.” Or “No, sir.” and to address folks older than myself as Mr. or Mrs. or Miss. And Dad raised us to sing each and every verse of every hymn – unless there was a sound doctrinal basis for skipping a certain verse.
And it’s that last part that I want to yack about today. Hymns – an ancient part of our faith. An integral part of our faith. A rapidly disappearing part of our faith. Many of the old hymns are wondrously crafted and are impressive expressions of the Christian faith. “He leadeth me, o blessed thought, O words with heavenly comfort fraught! What e’er I do, where e’re I be, still ‘tis God’s hand that leadeth me. He leadeth me, He leadeth me! By His own hand He leadeth me! His faithful follower I would be, for by His hand He leadeth me. ” “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine, o what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchase of God, born of His Spirit, washed in His blood! This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long; this is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long” “Be not dismayed what e’er betide, God will take care of you; beneath His wings of love abide, God will take care of you. God will take care of you, thro’ ev’ry day, o’er all the way; He will take care of you, God will take care of you.”
Those are just a bare sampling of some of the hymns that have run through my head these 30+ years since I learned to sing them. I’m reminded of a song I heard on the radio that went something like this: “Lookin’ up at the hymnal in my mama and daddy’s hand, though they were singing different notes, somehow they made them blend. I don’t remember the sermon, the only thing I recall was listenin’ to my mom and dad make the sweetest sound of all.” And I DO remember hearing Dad and Mom sing harmony. And Dad and his brothers. And… etc, etc. Folks back then could SING. One of my favorite memories is of attending an area wide Mennonite gospel sing somewhere north of Wichita, Kansas. The boss’ dad invited me and the other hired hand to go. The two of us were the youngest there by about 20 years. Those folks rolled out the old hymns with a simple, acapella harmony that was fantastic to hear. They sent an impromptu volunteer octet out to practice. It was volunteer as in “George sings bass!” And “Martha sings alto!” We sang two hymns while they were practicing then they came in and sang two hymns. If there’d been a recording studio right there they could have cut a record right then, such was their mastery of the music.
But somewhere along the way we got “music ministers” and “praise bands” and other enemies of the old songs. What a travesty to hear “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see! When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we’d first begun!” Huh? Say WHAT? When we’ve been WHERE? Sheesh! Don’t folks have a brain in their heads? “Amazing Grace” IS one of the most beautiful melodies of all times. What a treat to hear it on bagpipes, one of the most haunting melodies ever. But it’s precisely because of the lyrics that this song is so beautiful. Verse one leads into verse two which prepares the way for verse three before verse four wraps it up. You can’t cut ANY of the verses without killing the whole hymn. Each verse builds on the prior one to bring about the entire message. And yet I’ve seen it butchered time after time by the “It’s too long, we MUST cut out a verse” crowd. The weird thing is that then they’ll go on to sing some inane “praise chorus” forty-eleven times – far exceeding the time needed to sing “Amazing Grace” the way it was meant to be sung.
Last time we were up north we got slammed (emotionally speaking) time after time as folks butchered one old hymn or another and we listened to what passes for “church music” today. I will NOT attempt to sing a new song the first time I see it. Not unless I’ve had a chance to analyze the words to see if I can sing them in good conscience. The message is in the words, and if they aren’t true I won’t sing them. It’s that simple. There are songs I refuse to sing – because they are abominations doctrinally or I’d lie if I sung them. And I won’t repeat the same six words for eleventy-nine times, for me that falls under “vain repetitions” – as in the Lord told us not to use them in our prayers so why should we sing that way?
And then, the missionary convention. Each year the National Missionary Convention meets in one city or another around the US. Missionaries come from all over the world and people from all over the country come to learn about missions. Theoretically the convention serves various purposes. To encourage and build up missionaries, to raise up new missionaries for the work around the world and to encourage churches and individuals to actively support missionaries by way of financial, prayer, moral and emotional support. Yet when it comes to those of us who have spent 40 years or more on the field, we’re basically told “You must bow to the current fads amongst our churches. Your emotional needs are of no concern to us.” How so? Each and every main session is lead by one “praise team” or another. The largest churches in the area vie with each other to see who can come up with the least traditional time of singing. That’s all well and good. After all, we’re attempting to reach out to the younger generation and to draw them into the Lord’s work. However, not once have I seen a time of praise set aside for the veteran missionaries. People who have spent their lives working on the Lord’s mission field have “come home” – to a land they all to often no longer recognize. They spend their lives adapting to another culture, learning new songs, learning the books of the Bible in another language, feeding others spiritually, serving, conforming to a foreign culture. And when they return “home” they are again forced to conform to a foreign culture with no thought given by the organizers that long term missionaries have emotional and spiritual needs too.
You see, the Apostle Paul admonished the church in Ephesus to “speak to each other with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs”. Note that the emphasis in this passage is to lift EACH OTHER up via song. And that’s what the old songs do for us dinosaurs. They lift us up, they encourage us, they state our thoughts and give words to the undergirdings of our faith. They express our beliefs and give words to our hopes, fears and desires. Why not take a time in the “Nitty Gritty” session to sing the old songs? I remember the last time we participated in the “Nitty Gritty” session. The time of singing was lead by folks who probably had never even heard the old hymns. Here they were supposedly trying to build up and encourage veteran missionaries – but never once sang the songs that carried us out to the mission field and sustained us there over the years.
Yeah, I’m a dinosaur when it comes to music. I don’t expect others to conform to my tastes nor to share my enthusiasm for the ancient words of our movement as expressed in the ancient tunes. However, why does no one seek to at least allow those of us “old timers” a time of refreshing as well?
There’s a certain church I love to visit when up north. Early service has a “praise band” – with a country twang. They sing the new songs and it’s a joy to share with them – except for the occasional butchering of old hymns (singing them to a new “melody” – but often changing the words as well which REALLY messes me up). And then the second service is geared towards the “old folks”. Yep, I’ll probably be at least 20 years younger than anyone else there except the preacher and the sound/video folks. But they sing more of the old hymns in the second service (First, second and fourth verses – I always look to see what’s wrong with verse three) and my soul can once more breath freely and rejoice. Yes, I’ll be in both sessions – but the songs in the second session speak more to MY soul and spirit than those in the earlier session do.
Being surrounded by speakers of one’s third language, one gets used to speaking and thinking in a different way from how one grew up. It’s a fact of life – folks don’t speak like me, I speak like them (as much as possible). And yet, when I hear Portuguese or English spoken, my ears tune right in. As we were returning to Colombia earlier this year, I heard some folks speaking in Portuguese behind me. I turned and addressed them in the same language, enjoying the sound of their voices and their accent that clearly said “Brasil!” to me. Wandering through the streets and stores of Pereira we have heard folks speaking in English various times. In each case the sound clearly carried over the general hubub of the city. The same works in music as well. Each style speaks to different folks, usually depending on how, when and where they were raised. No, I don’t mind singing to others in psalms, hymns and spiritual songs according to their musical tastes. But oh that others would speak to me in my “song language” as well occasionally.
The “Religion of Peace”
Thanks to Hot Air for posting Michelle Malkin’s interview with Robert Spencer about his new book “Religion of Peace, Why Christianity Is and Islam Isn’t” . Robert Spencer eloquently shows how Christianity has been maligned by those who espouse some kind of moral equivalence between Christianity and Islam. It is an excellent interview and I highly recommend you listen to it.
New use for old technology
Here’s an interesting video. Interesting in that it was produced in Polaroid snapshots first, then made into a video. Anyway, they say a picture’s worth a thousand words. I wonder how much this video’s worth? 
Thanks to Hot Air for posting this.
