The UC Irvine Sheep

UCI, like the rest of Irvine, is clean, organized, and highly image-conscious. It has extensive resources for faculty and students alike, and is well-ranked in national surveys. Any "prospective student" knows that. There is one element of its character, however, that is less desirable. 

Every school has their mascot. UCI proudly flaunts the Anteater (zot!). Some mascots are more representative than others (Trojans? Tarapins? Banana Slugs?). After a year at UCI, I sometimes wonder if the school (or rather, the undergraduates) should enact a change: from the Anteaters (zot!) to the Sheep (baaaaaaah). According to some bored bloke that contributed the "Domestic Sheep" article to wikipedia (for whatever it's worth), sheep have "have a strong lead-follow tendency, and a leader often as not is simply the first sheep to move."

For all Irvine's strengths, I sometimes wonder if it is populated by sheep. Examples:

- The campus is eerily quiet. All the time.

- The sports teams are all but completely unknown. Even when they win national championships.

- Even the parking lots are downright boring- I never could have imagined so many small grey generic cars (b/c who would possibly drive such a thing? ;-)

- I'm taking chemistry this summer. There are approximately 180 students in the class. And twice in as many weeks, when I showed up to the classroom a few minutes before lecture, I find 50 or 100 students sitting outside, waiting for the previous class to vacate the lecture hall. Except, there was no previous class. Everyone thought everyone else had checked. So I walked into the classroom. And then everyone else migrated in. Baaaaah.

- the list goes on, and on, and on...

Interesting.

Yes, perhaps I am being unnecessarily negative. (If we try hard to find problems, we invariably find them, whether they are significant or not.) My purpose is not to tear down- though that is sometimes a prerequisite to building up. I recognize the privilege of living in Irvine and attending UCI. There's a lot of talent here, a lot of potential, a lot of good people. Much room for redemption; much room for good.

It's painful to see people being less than they were made for. That describes everyone, of course, myself included (see 1 John 1:9). The brokenness visible at UCI highlights--though still only in part--the depth of our fall, but the good glimpses hint at the unimaginable Love. The already/not yet Kingdom.

Given this situation, I start playing the What If game. What if I lived faithfully every moment of every day? What if I lived in true humility and true love? What if, "just for starters," I lived transparently and unashamedly? And what if we all did? Just for starters. After all, hope and purpose are simply nonexistent if we say "This is all there is," or "Academia is an end in and of itself."

Being a sheep isn't all bad. (And of course, the analogy only goes so far.) Instead, for a glimmer of hope, turn the analogy on its head. Sheep--and the sheep-herder--have been analogized before. And there, there only can we see and find hope, and purpose, and redemption. 

Through the looking glass

The BBC adapted several Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot mysteries for tv. The intro includes great art-deco inspired visual design. That inspired me to experiment, using a wine glass and Photo Booth as my props/tools. Here's a sample of the result. Just an experiment.

Some travel may be required

This afternoon I've been browsing online job descriptions within BME. I have another year before I graduate, but I like to know what's out there. I was looking at normal traits: position responsibilities, company products, etc. It didn't take long before they started to blur together: project engineer, project manager, manufacturing engineer, research technician, on and on and on. Some interesting, some ok, and some downright boring. (It should be a crime to make BME boring.)

Then, however, I came across this position: "Child Survival Monitoring and Evaluation Officer," a four year post with World Vision in Afghanistan. It's based in Herat, "with regular travel to field project sites."

Now THAT'S a job.

Latest Fav

Formal Gardens

Picture of the Day

Holocaust Memorial, Berlin, Germany.

Good of night

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination..."

Phantom, Music of the Night

I'm a big fan of nighttime. It is cool, and peaceful, it feels natural (esp when in the city), and the stars are out (not when in the city). And, hopefully, you get to sleep. 

There is, of course, the other side of night. The active side. The lights, the energy, the movement, the life of a city at night. As such, this photo, of the High.

Home, revisited

[Apologies for the lengthy excerpts.]

Mole finds his home:

"Now, with a rush of old memories, how clearly [home] stood up before him, in the darkness! Shabby indeed, and small and poorly furnished, and yet his, the home he had made for himself, the home he had been happy to get back to after his day's work. And the home had been happy with him, too, evidently, and was missing him, and wanted him back, and was telling him so, through his nose, sorrowfully, reproachfully, but with no bitterness or anger; only with plaintive reminder that it was there, and wanted him."

And later:

"He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him...But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome."

"Dulce Domum" is a marvelous chapter of Wind in the Willows. I highly recommend it. Especially after pondering about home. Or when in good company. Or both.

"It feeds my sense of truth."

Home-ily

We're currently remodeling our house. Repainting, relandscaping, rethis and rethat. So the house looks a bit different. Having spent some eighteen years of my life in this house, it is a strange feeling. Even so, no matter how many changes we might make, so long as my family is here this will be a place I call home. Yet if my family all moved, but the house stayed the same, it would still be a house, but would not be home. So what makes home, home?

First, in no particular order, what sprang to mind concerning home:

- Home Sweet Home

- Home is where the heart is

- You're Like Coming Home (Lonestar)

- "Let's go home, Sam."  (Frodo to Samwise Gamgee in LOTR, after delivering the ring to the elves)

- Irvine, Oxford, and Westmont

- Family and friends

- Narnia

- Heaven

What really...um...struck home....is the universality of the recognition of Home, across and within cultures and societies. Home is so inherent, and runs so deep and strong, it cannot be ignored. Corrupted or attacked, yes; ignored, no. Is it so essential that every major world "religion" is forced to somehow incorporate the concept of home. But that's not right. Ironic, even. Truth simply cannot be shut down.

The natural question, then, is where does this come from? Why do we have this?

Consider this excerpt from Lewis' The Last Battle. It comes after the destruction of the old Narnia and at the edge of entering into the New Narnia and Aslan's Country.

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!"

We live in an "already/ not yet" kingdom; a kingdom not fully revealed. The clearest glimpses of the kingdom, whether in Lewis' writings or a person or Communion, are the clearest glimpses we have of Home. Home is where we belong. Home is a matter of identity, and fidelity. It's where we were made to be. Everything I have ever known of Home points to this: we are at home when in right relationship with the King and the Kingdom.

Bartleby

Recently I discovered bartleby.com. It's terrific! As one who's knowledge in all things literature is amateur in the extreme (note, for instance, the grammar of this sentence), my meanderings in bartleby are consistently enjoyable. Today's quote:

"The physician can bury his mistakes, but the architect can only advise his clients to plant vines."

- Frank Lloyd Wright

And what of the biomedical engineer, Mr. Wright?

Le Grand Bleu

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by. John Masefield

RT, movie critic

On Saturday I saw Indiana Jones #4. It was, for the most part, enjoyable. Some parts terrific, some parts off-putting, some just good. At the very least it was remarkably consistent with the first three with style, plot, character personas...and of course, snakes. Still, it left me a bit uneasy. The phrase "mindless entertainment" kept coming to...um...mind- and that bothered me.

Is "mere entertainment" enough? Simply put, No. There is far too much to do in this world to justify mere entertainment. Why settle, when there is so much else that is every bit as enjoyable, but also infused with enough meaning--or enough open questions--to be inherently worthwhile, and subsequently satisfying.

And yet here I am, writing something (of whatever worth) in response to that of which I am critical. The movie has become a medium. So should that "No" be a conditional no?

Here's the catch: I went to the movie with friends. I saw it in community. We went together, laughed together, talked about it afterwards, together. And that just makes sense. Kingdom living demands such community. Not that I'm never supposed to do anything on "my own"- read a book, or listen to music, or work out- but that it is in the kingdom community that I learn to do such things well, and to pass on the good to others. How else could it be for broken and redeemed servants of a triune king?

So the 'No' isn't conditional (neither is this no). Time with friends can obviously be well spent even if the context isn't itself particularly worthwhile. So then, how much more will that time be well spent if both the company and the context are good!

Movies are stories. And Story is a medium that unites all humanity as a method to learn and to teach, regardless of time, age or place. Indiana Jones is fun, and I'm glad I went, and I'm especially glad of how I went. Spending a saturday afternoon with friends watching a childhood hero saving the world while escaping poison darts, atom bombs, cate blanchett, and REALLY big ants, then talking about it afterwards, is definitely worthwhile.

Sola Gratia

Amazing Grace 

How sweet the sound 

Amazing Love 

Now flowing down 

From hands and feet 

That were nailed to the tree 

As Grace flows down and covers me 

It covers me 

It covers me 

It covers me 

And covers me

Glimpses.

Last night I watched Saving Private Ryan, and I saw and felt something of the brokenness of this world.

This morning people were baptized at RH, and I saw a true renaissance.

This afternoon, I read the end of The Last Battle, and caught a small glimpse of Aslan's country.

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, God is good.

Commencing

On Saturday I graduated, and it was a strange thing indeed.

Everything went well. I drove to SB with my parents, met up with old friends, followed the bagpipers through the formal gardens, listened to speeches and award presentations and the choir, moved the tassel to the left side, made my way across stage, shook hands, smiled for the camera, and it was done. A blurred moment set a sharp boundary between three magical years and all that lies ahead. Leaving college is an awful lot faster than getting there.

How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back?

For all that, I'm still an undergraduate. I (unofficially) have my BA from Westmont, but have a year and a bit left at UCI. I have classes and finals and homework and labs and research. And I don't have chapel, or the DC, or the prayer chapel, or Stan the Man, or all my friends within a five minutes walk, or vespers, or early morning runs on Butterfly Beach, or PW, or potter's clay. 

But- and it's a big but- I do have access to all that filled those things with goodness. If Westmont was a training ground, and was that full of Goodness, how much more joy will there be from here on out? Those kinds of good things--Stan's wisdom, and the prayer in the chapel, and pure joy in worship, and so much more--may not always come so easily. But they are worth fighting for.

And I will fight, through to the end of the race at the Great Commencement.

Fundraising.

If anyone has £270,000 they don't need, please let me know. I have found my boat. 

Heading: second star from the right.

Wooden sailboat.

Good books.

Cote d'Azur

Imagine that.

Why blog?

A good blog is a powerful thing. The opportunity to eloquently and transparently convey all manner of thoughts in word or image to an unlimited audience is historically a rare thing indeed. And yet many blogs are taken as little more than an opportunity to vent. Perhaps that is what I am doing now- but I pray not. Why do desires for power, whether money, or authority, or time, come so easily, while dreams consistent with the true end of those same things are so fleeting?

Several weeks ago I came across this proverb:

"As water reflects a face

so a man's heart reflects the man."

And just now I recalled Lewis writing, aim for heaven and you get earth thrown in. Aim for earth and you get neither. (Paraphrased. It is so SO Lewis-ian- I love it.)

It would seem that on "our own," only the corrupt form of powerful ideas are visible- only the forms, the distorted and reduced forms by which to serve ourselves. (It's all but cliche putting it that way- but there it is). Only in the Kingdom can the true potential of that which we would otherwise corrupt be revealed. Even a blog. I can use this blog to draw attention to myself- or, in faith, to share my encounters with Light, to others, for His glory.

(to be continued)

Word

Words confuse me, though in truth they dissolve confusion. The predefined meanings with which they are given and the preconceived ideas with which they are received are a powerful combination for communication- or miscommunication. Even as I write these words, I know they don't hold the (full) meaning I intend.

Obviously I can only expect so much from limited space. To know something truly demands a broad perspective. I am not defined by a few words, but can only convey something of my identity through a more complete picture- through heart mind body and soul. 

The words of this blog, then, are eclectic things trying to convey eclectic thoughts that result from eclectic experiences. Tonight, then, I am grateful to the Author for Truth, for that which is really real. For there, there is life indeed- life to the full.

This blog needs a new name.

Be patient. The name will come.

Pippin

Etymology: Middle English pepin, from Anglo-French

15th century

1. A crisp tart apple having usually yellow or greenish-yellow skin strongly flushed with red and used especially for cooking.

2. A highly admired or very admirable person or thing.

Augustine on science

"Whenever I hear a brother Christian talk in such a way as to show that he is ignorant of these scientific matters and confuses one thing with another, I listen with patience to his theories and think it no harm to him that he does not know the true facts about material things, provided that he holds no beliefs unworthy of you, O Lord, who is the Creator of them all."

Confessions, V.5

Augustine, you make me wonder.