Recklessness and Truth

People lie too often, and we catch it too rarely.
I've been lied to twice this week by religious leaders. I like Jesus a whole bunch, but these guys are ticking me off.
On Sunday there was a talk on the death penalty. Out of dumb luck one of the examples the pastor used was of a family from Steubenville who "expressed relief at the closure when they chose to put these people to death."
Except they didn't.
The cousin of the murdered family was an old college friend, she and her family met monthly with the convicted murderers to pray for them and try to show them forgiveness. Even when the kids were denying they did it against a mountain of forensic evidence and a video tape of them committing rape and murder the family showed extreme radical grace, and showed up to pray.
And advocate against capital punishment.
Reckless.
Today Focus on the Family called my office. Really. They left me a voice mail. It turns out that Liberals are filibustering qualified Judicial nominees. Why do the Liberals do this...because they're liberal and that's bad.
I googled it. I found the name Orrin Hatch. He was being shouted down in a left biased thing. So I went to source Data. Googled Orrin Hatch/Judicial Nominations. The first two links were to a thing he wrote for the National Review talking about how odious it was that this minority would hold up these nominations against a majority.
The third link was a piece from an online social studies text talking about the use of the filibuster in Senatorial practice. They referred to how the filibuster was effectively used to uphold Clinton judicial nominees or even keep them commitee. The practicioner of this clever parliamentary gambiit--Orrin Hatch.
Reckless.
I still hadn't found out why focus on the family cared. That will be called Recklesness and Truth Part II. I should do work now.

Damien Rice

If you have not started listening to Damien Rice you're doing something wrong and should either go download his stuff from I-Tunes or seek immediate therapy.
I'm really not a music snob, but he rocks and not a little bit.
The song Amie might be the most beatiful song I've ever heard.
It opens up with a simple chordal strum that lays the musical framework for a simple lyrical conceit. Then he adds in something ethereal and weird to wake you up to beauty in song. He slowly adds strings in to lead you on a dance, and keeps the same tone in a folk whisper. He speaks soft truth and begs Amie to come back to a place when the sad soft sonnet played by chords with beauty and a hint of minor sadness was normal.
He sings along with the strings as the sound, structure, and dynamics remind you that a string quartet can frickin' bring it.
And then it's over.
Music good enough to drive me to simplistic literary devices.
Also he's irish, so my mom would approve.

An Embarrasing Habit

I have an embarassing habit.
I hug my wife based on far too few visual cues.
My wife is a short brown haired girl who wears old navy.
The same is true for 30% of the female population in my town.
I kissed one today.

Seriously...it was like this.
I was talking to a friend as I walked into a dinner party at his house. We went to the deck as we were talking. I continued to look at him and then turned to see that his backyard was a panoramic golf course view. I listened to him as I looked out on the panoramic view. I knew my wife was on the deck, so I walked to her.

Note that the eyes have not left the panoramic view.

So I go to my wife (as defined as "a short brown haired girl with an old navy shirt.") I kiss her on the head. Her hair smells different, I comment on it, a sense of danger and fear rising in my brain stem. My mind works to beat down the cognitive dissonance as I stair at the panoramic course and I ask her "Your hair smells nice, is that different."

My wife says something weird, "Ryan, look down, she's over there. This is Amy."
So that was embarassing.