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this hapax legomenon



reference points for contact with Jadon Slade Androsoff



Updated: 2017-10-26T00:40:34.069-06:00

 



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2013-03-31T07:14:55.042-06:00

Jesus of the Scars by Edward Shillito

If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow;
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars we claim Thy grace.
If when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know today what wounds are; have no fear;
Show us Thy Scars; we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong, but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

{discovered via poikilos }



A Love Song, of Sorts

2013-02-14T18:41:02.644-06:00

Love Song: I and Thou By Alan Dugan

  Nothing is plumb, level, or square:
     the studs are bowed, the joists
are shaky by nature, no piece fits
     any other piece without a gap
or pinch, and bent nails
     dance all over the surfacing
like maggots. By Christ
     I am no carpenter. I built
the roof for myself, the walls
     for myself, the floors
for myself, and got
     hung up in it myself. I
danced with a purple thumb
     at this house-warming, drunk
with my prime whiskey: rage.
     Oh I spat rage’s nails
into the frame-up of my work:
     it held. It settled plumb,
level, solid, square and true
     for that great moment. Then
it screamed and went on through,
     skewing as wrong the other way.
God damned it. This is hell,
     but I planned it. I sawed it,
I nailed it, and I
     will live in it until it kills me.
I can nail my left palm
     to the left-hand crosspiece but
I can’t do everything myself.
     I need a hand to nail the right,
a help, a love, a you, a wife.

{to hear it  recited}



More Than Extravagant Gifts

2012-12-25T15:02:36.869-06:00

  allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/b5Sk0LJ9ylk" width="420">  

Journey of the Magi by T.S. Elliot (to hear the author reciting, click here)

 "A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The was deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.



The Long Run: Life is a marathon

2012-12-05T01:25:07.567-06:00

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9t5rR9HybHk?fs=1" width="480"> {via theRSAorg}



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2012-12-05T00:55:54.666-06:00

To Feel Fine?

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WXqMDocGOI0?fs=1" width="480">

Thomas Calloway at TEDxAsheville {via: TEDxTalks)



Opening New Paths

2012-06-27T22:55:59.087-06:00

[via zefrank1, for ashow]

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9gQhOB50KUY?fs=1" width="480">



St. Patrick's Breastplate

2012-03-17T21:21:01.000-06:00

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DYFjB9SKPAA?fs=1" width="480"> [via apirecords]



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2012-03-10T21:57:46.405-06:00

Story, Journalism, and Activism: KONY2012 (NOTE: The clip from the KONY2012 video here has no sound.)

(object) (embed)


[via Up with Chris Hayes]



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2011-12-31T16:55:47.813-06:00

Resolving Not to End

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kcc_KAhwpa0?fs=1" width="480">

[via CGPGrey]



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2011-12-31T16:42:50.167-06:00

Predictions 2012

allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XRZ9cDkfO48?fs=1" width="480">

[via rewboss]



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2011-09-12T05:52:12.152-06:00

Fukushima by Magnetic North (and Taiyo Na)

- TAIYO -
i remember 9-11 how my city cried for heaven
how people perished no matter what style of reverence
i remember tribeca buildings falling all day
missing people everywhere all the years of mourning
what made it worse was our leaders '05 you could see it
with katrina they didn't feel it they were just greedy greedy
just like fukushima good bad made clearer
it's salt to the wound when your leaders just leave ya
but that's when the lion's roar that's when you fight for more
that's when you figure out there're things worth dying for
it's only when the days dark you discover brave hearts
i know a girl from haiti motherless who has the same heart
my heart goes out to each and every one of you
children of the future will be greater because of you
i don't write songs for the fortune or a buzz or two
i write for my people hope you feel me love for you

- CHORUS -
i'll cross a stormy river
dig the deepest tunnel
build a bridge over
any length to love you
i'll bear any fate
carry it double
however much the stretch
i'll go any length to you

- THERESA -
i don't even know the half only seen the photographs
reporters telling stories from the view inside their cul de sacs
so i sat eyes glued thinking of your loneliness
choking back the tears and blinking back condolences
a lowly gift cuz your world is rearranging
on the train sat beside a girl with paper cranes and
she feels so ashamed cuz she'd rather send a benjamin
but maybe hope's the better currency for this millennium
life is but a dream but a dream is all we hope for
like the light you cannot stifle shining behind closed doors
like the song you shouldn't sing you sing until your throat's sore
like the love that never dies though life itself is so short
and your beauty is resilience
holding on to nothing but the fact you will rebuild again
and I know you will rebuild my friend
we'll go to any length no distance is too significant

[CHORUS]

- DEREK -
rebuilding is a struggle i feel it you feeling crumbled
your spirit's still recovering conflicted with god above us
have we been punished why what justifies suffering nothing
i see no reason for people to lose their homes from right under
maybe it's mother nature's way of saying we need a change
crusades of war and terrorism synonyms of the same
so filled with hate in our veins and racist youtube tirades
still makes me sick hot 97 played the tune on the waves
but i can't sit here in shame just hoping and praying
this ain't no dream within a dream there ain't no totem to save 'em
it's as real as it gets when you realize death
cuz when you lose someone you truly redefine strength
so i'll utilize this pen
my arms don't reach across the seas but songs move any length
any length to love you
rest and peace to all the fallen your strength is eternal



allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kgVEfCnqtmk" width="560">



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2011-09-12T04:33:54.582-06:00

Ground Zero Sum

(object) (embed) An Old Old Story: Ground Zero Sum by An Old Old Story

[soundcloud link; via An Old Old Story; HT: Experimental Theology]



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2011-09-12T03:26:49.409-06:00

Twins and Towers at Ten
"It's been ten whole years already? Wow! Hard to believe." Many a father will say something like that while shaking his head in disbelief, when his oldest approaches the 10th birthday. It's a milestone, not just for the kid, but for the parents. It's a head-shaker because I am reminded that on that day, 10 years ago, my life changed forever. In some ways, it has passed very quickly. In other ways, it seems like it's been every bit of ten years. There are two distinct things, though, about the ten-year anniversary of my dadhood. The first is that I became a father of not one, but two little bundles of joy that Tuesday morning. Abby was born at 8:48, followed by her brother Jacob at 8:50. The second is that their birth marked some rare joy in the midst of the darkest day in our nation's history. As my wife was in labor, a nurse came in and told us that an airplane had crashed into a skyscraper in New York. I turned on the labor room TV in order to find out details. But a minute later, a painful contraction led to a gentle but firm request that I switch off the TV and hold her hand. (I'm not sure how my hand-holding could make contractions better, but I had seen enough sitcoms to know that when your wife is in labor, you should be as accommodating as you can.) So off went the TV, and the plane incident was completely gone from my mind as we went into the operating room. I scrubbed my hands, paying attention to instructions from the nurse to get the dirt that was under my fingernails. I watched as the anesthesiologist stuck a needle in Beth's back. A few minutes later, I held her hand while chatting with the the same anesthesiologist as the surgeon and nurses prepared for the Caesarian. Before long, the nurse tapped me on the shoulder to alert me to a beautiful sight. I think my heart stopped momentarily as I saw my crying little girl, Abby. Her cry was so sad, and I melted. Her brother came out crying, too, but his cry was an angry one, and I chuckled. I was told they checked out just fine, and everything was right with the world. As far as I knew. [continue]
[via James Williams]






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2011-05-21T14:21:44.141-06:00

"Hear That? It's The Sound Of Truth."

width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/onXITEs_Kys" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

[via wheezywaiter]









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2011-05-19T14:48:30.297-06:00

Of Things Unseen, Not Of Fears Unknown

width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JZASppHa0m0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

[via Jesus Needs New PR]



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2011-05-17T14:21:17.058-06:00

It's *So* Predictable...

(image)

[appropriately via Surviving the World, here]



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2011-05-07T20:45:59.367-06:00

Not Overlooking the Obvious

HT: Brain Pickings, noticed here

width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3D6s36W1Ngk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

[from The Jubilee Project]



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2011-04-12T15:42:00.538-06:00

And We're Off!

title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RKs6ikmrLgg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

First Orbit, recalling and recreating Yuri Gagarin's *first* human orbit ever. Has it really been 50 years? Maybe warp drive will be next, to go where no one has gone before. :)



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2011-02-11T17:47:36.184-06:00

The Definition of Love

[via SpokenVerse]

title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GdeVsh_GYXk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

"L'Amour et Psyche, enfants", by William Bouguereau (1825-1905)
"Two Lovers", 1906, by Marcus Stone (1840-1921) Two Lovers 1906,

MY Love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis, for object, strange and high ;
It was begotten by Despair,
Upon Impossibility.

Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing,
Where feeble hope could ne'er have flown,
But vainly flapped its tinsel wing.

And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixed ;
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.

For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them close ;
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrannic power depose.

And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant poles have placed,
(Though Love's whole world on us doth wheel),
Not by themselves to be embraced,

Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear.
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramp'd into a planisphere.

As lines, so love's oblique, may well
Themselves in every angle greet :
But ours, so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.

Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.



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2011-02-04T00:59:11.081-06:00

Weathering the Storm...Over and Over, Bing!

title="YouTube video player" width="540" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SPbijgSYe_4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>

[via HomeStarRunnerTron, inspired by Pogo]



1 Comments

2011-01-04T18:49:32.749-06:00

(Un) Resolved? :)

(object) (embed)

[via Tales of Mere Existence]



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2010-09-11T04:58:29.406-06:00

Good Ideas, Good Books

(object) (embed)

[via Dwindling in Unbelief, in this post]