Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. Their very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be ‘cured’ against one’s will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level with those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.
I am aware of so many who read the news, spend too much time on social media and allow themselves to become upset over the terrible state of affairs in the church and the world.
If you are one who is regularly upset, worried, fretful, dismayed, angry and concerned I would remind you of several important facts about the modern world in which we live.
First. Remember that with modern means of communication we now have instant access to news from the entire globe. Not only do we have instant access, but probably someone had their cellphone out, recorded the event and put it up on Twitter. Consequently we hear about famines in Africa, revolutions in Asia, economic disaster in Europe, war in Russia, killings, murders, rapes, child abuse and just about every horror you can imagine from all over the world.
Secondly, remember that the news organizations thrive on bad news, not good news. The newspaper editors (and those who run websites) still follow the old dictum, “If it bleeds, it leads”. They focus on the horror, the gossip, the infidelity, the adultery, the crimes of humanity because that is where the big drama is.
Thirdly, if there is a religious dimension to the crime it pumps the story even bigger. If the criminal is a priest, monk, bishop or pope then the “Shock horror!!” is even bigger, more dramatic and newsworthy.
Consequently, it is easy to allow oneself to drift into a state of permanent dismay and even despair over the state of affairs.
In the face of this I would remind you to read Psalm 37. Here are the first eleven verses.
Do not fret because of those who are evil or be envious of those who do wrong; 2 for like the grass they will soon wither,
like green plants they will soon die away.
3 Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. 4 Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.
5 Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: 6 He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun.
7 Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.
8 Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. 9 For those who are evil will be destroyed, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.
10 A little while, and the wicked will be no more; though you look for them, they will not be found. 11 But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace and prosperity.
Are you troubled by the insanity of immorality, the lunacy of the left, the violence of those consumed by irrational rage, the grief of those driven by resentment and fear? Do not fret. They will vanish like smoke in the wind.
Those who pursue evil will vanish like smoke because there is no ultimate substance to their actions or their thoughts. Remember that evil is never a positive, objective quality of its own. It has no original substance. Evil is, by its very nature, parasitic on the good. Evil is a lie and a lie is the absence or the distortion or destruction of truth. Evil is ugly: it is the absence, the distortion or the destruction of the beautiful. Evil is bad. It is the absence, the distortion or the destruction of the Good.
Therefore do not fret. The ultimate defeat of evil is built into evil itself. A lie cannot stand forever because it is built on quicksand. Evil cannot stand forever anymore than darkness can overcome the light.
A little while and the wicked will be no more.
The recent Dobbs case in the USA in which the right to abortion was shifted to the individual states–and the reaction to this is an illustration of my point. After fifty years the unjust, decision to enable violence against the most vulnerable members of society crumbled. It could not stand just as the law allowing slavery could not stand. The reaction of pro abortion people from ordinary citizens to celebrities and politicians also illustrates my point. They reacted with self righteous, irrational rage. They knew they could not take a righteous stance in favor of infanticide and abortion, so they hid behind the righteous pose of “women’s health care”.
But do not fret yourself because of evildoers.
Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: 6 He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun.
7 Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.
I have been using a “shaker siphon” for 10+ years to fill up cars, boats, generators, lawn mowers, etc. The problem with fuel cans is that when they are full they become unwieldy to pour from a spout. The best method I have found is to siphon fuel from the can rather than pour it.
To use a “shaker siphon” put the copper end into the fuel can and the tube into the tank you want to fill. Then lift the copper end up and down (shaking it) in the fuel can. The entire process takes seconds. The system works best if the fuel can is higher than the tank it is filling. Afterwards a siphon is created which transfers about 3 gallon or so per minute from the fuel can into the tank. You will hear a bit of jingling from the copper end which lets you know it is working.
I can typically get almost all of the fuel out a can with a few ounces leftover. Those last few ounces are easy to pour out. Lifting the copper end out of the fuel can stops the transfer immediately. When you are done, it is best to lift the copper end above your head while the other end is still in the tank to let any fuel in the line drain into the tank.
I use the Hopkins FloTool Shaker Siphon. There are several variations of this design on Amazon and from what I can tell one is good as the next.
-- Cameron Cole
Hopkins 10801 FloTool Shaker Siphon with 6′ Anti-Static Tubing
I remember exactly where I was when I heard John Ondrasik’s (Five for Fighting) “Superman”. On the morning of September 11, 2001, I opened the microphone at the Hot Adult Contemporary station where I worked the midday shift and, for the first time, was at a loss for words.
I was great at mindless banter and giving people a good laugh on their workday.
I wasn’t prepared for what happened that day. None of us were. And these events made John Ondrasik’s lyrics hit home even harder:
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane
I’m more than some pretty face beside a train
And it’s not easy to be me
I wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
‘Bout a home I’ll never see
It may sound absurd, but don’t be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed, but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
And it’s not easy to be me”-Superman, (It’s Not Easy)-Five for Fighting
The lyrics to, “Superman (It’s Not Easy)”, challenged us to look inside of ourselves, to hurt with those who lost, to lament on our humanity, to see our heroes as brave, yet fallible, to search for meaning in this world. Some of us mended those fences with those fiends or family members we sparred with. We told people we loved them. We looked inside of ourselves and were less shallow. There were several mixes that radio stations played. I remember hearing United Flight 93, flight attendant, CeeCee Lyles’ tearful phone call to her family spliced into the song.
“Tell my babies I love them.”-CeeCee Lyles
Twenty years later, hearing a member of a flight crew tell her husband to give love to her babies in her final moments is heartbreaking. I have since left corporate radio. As I write this, my husband is piloting a cross-country flight to Boston. My husband has also been to both Iraq and Afghanistan as a Marine and a civilian pilot. Twenty years later, Ondrasik’s “Superman (It’s Not Easy)” rings true. Some of us are still looking for those “special things inside of us”. We look to the heroes of that day and realize some gave all. Yet some of us, like our current administration, are seemingly numb and have forgotten the attack on humanity that happened that very day in 2001. And in some cases, they have just treated this attack on humanity and the hard work and sacrifices of many Americans with blatant disregard. John Ondrasik has enjoyed a great musical career since the days of “Superman”. Recently, he had some thoughts he turned into song. Per his Press Release:
On the day when 13 U.S. soldiers and more than 60 Afghans were killed by a suicide bomber, Ondrasik sat down to write the lyrics to “Blood On My Hands.”
After our last solider left Afghanistan, I received a call from a friend organizing rescue evacs of ‘AM-CITS’ and SIV holders. It was a highly emotional call and moment of clarity. Private citizens now had the burden of risking their lives to rescue Americans and Afghan allies that our government left behind. America has broken her promise, but these brave Americans have not.”
Photo Courtesy of Five For FightingThere is a great tradition of artists speaking their minds and calling out their leaders for answers. Many of those have been inspirations to me. I understand that this song might be perceived by some as a political attack, but those who follow me know I am an American with a history of calling out both sides. After hearing ‘Blood on My Hands,’ a friend said that he found the song to be politically neutral, but morally-forward. My hope is that this song helps demand accountability, so the American promise is not forsaken.”-John Ondrasik
Ondrasik continues to support the USO, the U.S. military, Augie’s Quest, Austism Speaks, Fisher House Foundation, Save the Children and Operation Homefront, to name a few. His latest, “Blood On My Hands”, can be downloaded for free off the Five For Fighting website here.
Winkin Blinken, can’t you look me in the eyes?
Willy Milley, tell me when did you decide?
‘This Will Defend’, your sacred motto now means…
Nevermind.
General Austin, is there no honor in shame?
Can you spell Bagram without the letters in Blame?
Did Uncle Joe stick a drip in your veins…
Hands”-John Ondrasik, Blood On My Hands
The haunting lyrics call out the leaders in this charge to leave Afghanistan. Once again, John Ondrasik captures our sentiment as Americans as we look on…twenty years later. He questions these decisions. He is expressing pretty much what a lot of us Americans are thinking-the confusion, the anger, the frustration-all of it. Ondrasik, as a member of the entertainment industry, has taken a brave stand in light of the sheer cowardice and/or oblivion that plagues some of our artists. Keep calling them out, John. It is not the popular stance to take but we’re glad you took it. (He even went live on Hannity.) And hey, radio consultants and program directors? Add this song to your station playlists. I. Dare. You.
Photo Credit: The U.S. Army/FlickR/Creative Commons/Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)/Cropped
In 1934, Rear Admiral Richard Byrd spent almost five months living entirely alone in a tiny shack buried under the ice of Antarctica’s interior.
Though the military pilot and polar explorer was ostensibly there to gather scientific data, he admitted to really being after the experience itself; he wanted to pare life down to the essentials, and see how being cut off from civilization would change him.
One of the first discoveries Byrd made during his sojourn was that “solitude is an excellent laboratory in which to observe the extent to which manners and habits are conditioned by others.”
The longer Byrd spent in isolation, the more he noticed the trappings of his old life fall away. He grew his hair out. Dropped his table manners. And, interestingly, stopped swearing. “Although at first I was quick to open fire at everything that tried my patience,” he observed, “Now I seldom cuss.”
Byrd realized that profanity is essentially performative — done for the sake of others. To shock. To evince toughness. To add emphasis. Even a swear uttered when alone is born of the societal habit — the hope of attracting attention, and, if the curse was evoked from pain or fear, eliciting help.
The performative nature of profanity isn’t necessarily a bad thing. All the world’s a stage, and we all adopt roles that allow us to put on life’s plays. Words are tools, weapons, and occasionally, a curse is the absolute best, unduplicable expression for achieving properly dramatic effect.
But when someone puts profanity in every other sentence, it demonstrates they’ve bought too much into the theater, that they live more outwardly than inwardly. Though we think of swearing as being rebellious, the more one uses it, the more it reveals a compass that points away from an individual pole, and towards the conforming crowd.
Log in
Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. Their very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be ‘cured’ against one’s will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level with those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.
