Is this baby worshiping God?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gmrYQgg1Po

This video is a little disturbing to me.  Not necessarily the baby; only, how excited the language is in the title and in the comments.  The baby’s just doing her thing.

It is amazing to me how social reality is formed.  Literally, the baby is mimicking, perhaps having a good time.  Sure she’s cute (I guess)—she has a grasp of music; however, that is not the message of the video.

The baby’s act is interpreted into something else.  Even the presentation manipulates the viewer, as the video’s creator attempts to share her experience behind the video.  Funny to think that sharing a video is not enough to share one’s view.

I took a photo of a well-known friend, showed it to him, and pointed out to him how the title of the photo changes the focal point of the photo itself:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/bozdoz/4177558240/in/photostream

Giant New Overlord used to be something else: something about the structure.  I decided I didn’t like where the title made me look; I rather preferred highlighting my friend.

So, I felt, that reading Giant New Overlord caused me to look more at the man acting upon the building, rather than the building being acted upon.

If I called it Brittle Buildings, would you look at the photo in the same way?  That title might cause a critical eye to fall on the tiny supports.  Or T-Shirt in December: viewers note the t-shirt.  Or OCD at Midnight.

It’s very interesting to me how something so subtle can affect a perspective so drastically.  If we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, can we judge a photo by its title?  Or a video by its?  A person by theirs?

Speaking of manipulating perspective: One of my favourites: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bozdoz/3755841608/in/photostream

One thing to trust

The sabbath is between God and me.

It doesn’t matter where you are in life, who your family is, where you’re going to school, how you work for a living, what (if any) church you are or were a part of—it doesn’t matter.

The sabbath is between you and the ubiquitous God.  There is no middleman, there is no neglecting that He made the sabbath for you; no one else designed it, no one else assigned it.

Blind shepherds

Religion does not pacify. It enflames. It inspires. It drives people to insanity and rage and it drives people to become better people. It does all of these things, and it was created, because people want to feel that they have purpose. That they can change and be changed.

Are churches really declawing the faithful?

Even if people are misled by churches, you can’t say it was created to dull and deactivate men and women; even if they are manipulated, they aren’t controlled. Have you heard or seen religious worship, political protests, or suicide bombers? These people are not shackled. At least not nearly as much as those who are not religious.

They are not passive.

Painted Prisons

When I watch a movie now I think, someone made this—had the pleasure of working things out and producing their imagination; and I watch it.  I shut my mind off, as a tip of the hat to the film makers.  I submit myself to culturalization, and the branding of another person’s imagination.  I keep thinking now, I could either be on one side of the screen, or the other.

Entertainment is inconsequential.  Tomorrow is a worse day, for having amused myself yesterday.  For falling short in self-discipline, I will fall hard against challenges.  The hardest tested person must be the happiest, because preparedness is one of life’s greatest treasures.  Relief, true peace, cannot come to the one who has not readied for adversity:  against opposition, the prepared see peace.

Tithing to make God a debtor

I discovered a strange desire: to make others owe me.

I’ve been asked to write an article for Enroute.  It was quite awhile ago, and I really wanted to do it for this friend.  I now have no intention of writing the article, and realized several things.

I would not have wanted to do it myself.

I wanted to continually accept tasks from friends.

All in all, I am upset that I didn’t write the article, and that I am about to let down a friend.  But, to the point, I’m upset that I’m neglecting to fulfill my offer.  But, why should I be upset at that?!  I am not required to do this task (no!); this was me doing someone a favour, like giving—a gift. No one owes a gift. In fact, no one owes a favour: no one owes an offering!  I am not indebted, but rather upset that I have not indebted my friend.  Am I indebted to indebt? Do I owe it to her to owe it to me?

As if to send her a bill would make me feel better.  Or, perhaps, in some obscure way, I count indebted friends as a form of hidden currency—which I can always vaguely rely on.  Comfort as creditor: comfort in buried treasure.  Only—can I find it, unbury it when I need it?  Will my debtors be as reluctant as I; a commodity which I may, in fact, seldom cash in on?