Genesis 3:1-24 (for Oct. 29 class)
The narrative in Genesis 3 changes drastically from the previous two chapters. This in itself is obvious, as it has been made clear that God has finished with the creation process. A sense of progression is natural and expected. As the subject matter changes from the initial 'good' creation to the fall of man, we also see a new role for God. Having completed His work as the Creator, He is forced to be the Judge. He issues three judgements within this passage, one for each character. God's role as the Judge is necessitated by the introduction of temptation and sin. Both of these themes are introduced here and expanded upon in scripture. They are also both indicative of man and not God. Hence also unlike the two previous chapters, this chapter is not focused solely on God but also on man, and the relationship between the two.

This chapter introduces a process in sin, one that becomes familiar early in life, even outside any biblical context. The procedure is as follows: there is an initial temptation to do something which we know we ought not to do, we do it, then we suffer some type of consequence or punishment. In the case of Genesis 3, the thing that ought not to be done is clear. God's rather ominous commandment was presented in Genesis 2:17. Ironically, this was immediately before the creation of the woman, who was to play a significant role in the whole fiasco. It is the sole prohibition that he had placed regarding anything at all. The description of the serpent's discourse with the woman shows how he is able to tempt her to eat this forbidden fruit. It is assumed that the thought had not crossed her mind until the serpent has suggested it. He tempts her by portraying it as something both forbidden and desireable. In this case, the thing to be desired is wisdom and knowledge, which, in itself is not negative. In fact, we see later in scripture that "Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding" (Proverbs 4:7). The serpent aroused a desire for within the woman - a desire for something beneficial - and twisted it into challenging God's direct commandment. That desire to challenge God's commandment, edged on by the serpent's direct contradiction to God's warning with "You surely will not die!", precipitated into sin. The irony is that the woman, and man, could have demonstrated wisdom in obedience rather than turn to the fruit. "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding" (Psalm 111:10).

Though the serpent was responsible for manipulating the woman, she made the decision to eat herself. In the same way the man was responsible for his own disobedience despite being misled - God's commandment was clear enough when it was given. It seems that at some point in time (particularly, when they were eating), the man and woman believed that they would indeed gain only in wisdom and knowledge, and that there would be no reperecussion. However, they do in fact need to deal with the effects of their sin. In this passage the consequences are twofold. There is the direct consequence of their action of eating the fruit, and the consequence of judgement for breaking God's commandment. Again, as children we have learned this. Should we have played with some prohibitted heirloom and broken it, we would have had to deal with both the direct consequence - the broken item - as well as the judgement for having played where we were told not to - which usually comes in the form of parental punishment. As we grow older and more knowledgeable, we often find ways of avoiding or not having to deal with the direct consequences. Furthermore, we hope that by hiding our sin we can also escape judgement.

In this case the direct consequence of eating the fruit was realization of their nakedness. The consequence of their sin was that what was once good was twisted and became shameful. Although they were once able to walk openly with God, the result of sin was that they were only able to talk to God while hidden among the trees. The original direct relationship was replaced with one that had considerable distance. In this case, God's commandment had an ulterior motive - to protect the man and woman from shame. We might infer from the rest of scripture that in time, man would have gained the knowledge he desired in another manner that would not bring him shame, "for the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding" (Proverbs 2:6).

As children, we often learn to fear punishment more than the results of our mistakes. In this narrative however, God shows considerable grace in his judgement of the man and the woman. For one, God's initial warning, "in the day that you eat from it you will surely die", has been eased - at least in the physical sense. Although they were separated from God and removed from the garden, they were allowed to continue to live for a while. By allowing them to multiply instead of destroying them immediately, God made a provision for man's eventual redemption through Christ. Furthermore, oddities in Genesis 3:16-17 suggests that even in His judgement, God has allowed room for grace. Although the woman is to suffer in painful childbirth for what she has done God adds "Yet your desire will be for your husband". God leaves a provision for the continued intimate relationship between the man and woman despite her punishment. The man however, is not cursed for his sin as the serpent was - instead the ground is cursed. Finally, like a good parent, God cleans up the mess that His children have created. He replaces their makeshift coverings of leaves with real clothing, thus partially redeeming them from the shame that they had brought upon themselves with the skins of animals. This foreshadows Christ's role in the future. Instead of covering over man's shame with a skin, God washes the sin away with blood.

The nature of sin that we see here is that it corrupts what was intended for good. It make take the desire for something that may potentially be good and extend it to an inappropriate level. Desire for security and comfort becomes greed. Desire for food becomes gluttony. Desire for intimacy becomes lust. These oerverse desires cause us to challenge the boundaries that God has set for our protection. In our reliance on our own wisdom over His we subvert His authority. The consequences of sin mars once good aspects of our lives. What may once have been beautiful might bring guilt, shame, and pain, affecting our relationships. Our relationships with others might suffer, but our relationship with God suffers more - He must judge us. It is here where God's defining characteristic is shown, "but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more" (Romans 5:20). We can see God's love for us in his judgements, and even more so in His desire to redeem us. Hence by the end of Genesis 3, we see God as Creator, Judge and Redeemer.

sinfest

Capturing Streaming Videos
Saw a Stacie Orrico video of There's Gotta Be More To Life the other day. I'm thinking the makeup for the multiple characters in the video's pretty cool, but I wasn't able to actually save the video since I could only find it being streamed using Microsoft's proprietary mms:// protocol.

Turns out there's already a group called SDP that's more or less cracked the protocol. Their library is used in HiDownload, a download manager that allows you to download and save streaming media.

After figuring all this out, I'm realizing I'm starting to fall out of date on a lot of technologies out there. <sigh>

Free Web hosting?
If you've noticed any photos I once had up are gone, it's because the free web host I was using was taken down. I found a new one though - or at least it seems to be free web hosting, I haven't figured out if there's any catch: www.1and1.com.

Theological Quote of the Day
"The big boy upstairs," Mr. Oliver said, referring to God. "He always does things with cooking that are interesting." The lines down a fish, for instance, make a clean and easy way to fillet it. Many fall vegetables, like squash and mushrooms, mimic the colors of autumn leaves. "There are too many things that are fluky to be flukes," he said.
-- Jamie Oliver in a NYT interview

Procrastination
Whenever I start working on a paper, and studying the text, I'm wondering how I can write a paper on such a small topic. By the time I finish a paper, I'm thinking that there's so much more I could have studied, that there's so much depth I'm missing. Usually by this time it's either incredibly late on Tuesday night, or early (as today) on Wednesday morning, and I just regret not having started earlier or spending more time on it. Here's the papers from last week and this week. Both are pretty bad in my opinion, like I've just started into looking at the topic without any sense of completeness.

Sabbath (for Oct. 22 class)
The concept of the Sabbath rest dates back to the beginning of creation. In a way, it was the final creation, the thing that God introduced on the seventh day. Literally however, it was actually the act of not creating anything. It has also been an idea that has not been well understood for a long time. On multiple occasions (Matt 12, John 9) Jesus was criticized for breaking the Sabbath. Later on in Romans 14 Paul introduces the argument "One person regards one day above another, another regards every day alike. Each person must be fully convinced in his own mind." If we are to observe the sabbath properly, or if we are to choose to not practice it without sinning, we must first understand it.

The idea of God's rest is introduced in Genesis 2:2 "And by the seventh day God completed His work which He had done; and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made." The structure and wording of these two verses strongly emphasises the element of rest. It is a specific type of rest. It was not the understated pause during the other days of creation when God took a step back to affirm that His work for that day was good. This is the more substantial rest after everything was completed. The act of resting was enough to identify this day as holy, enough so that this special rest "Shabbath" seems to be derived from the generic word for rest, "shabath", which is used repeatedly in the Old Testament, usually in describing a cessation of a previous action.

After its introduction in Genesis 2, this concept of rest does not become significant again until Exodus 16, where God feeds Israel with manna, which is provided for only six of seven days. Later on in Exodus 20, this rest is codified into the Law:

  “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

  Six days you shall labor and do all your work, 

  but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God;

  in it you shall not do any work, you or your son or your daughter,

  your male or your female servant or your cattle 

  or your sojourner who stays with you.  

  For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, 

  the sea and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day; 

  therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.” 

    Genesis 20:8-11

This particular commandment stands out from the rest because of its description. While most other commandments are simply stated, this one comes with an explanation of the founding principle, that the Sabbath is Holy because God blessed it after completing his work. In Exodus 31 it is again expanded:

  “For six days, work is to be done, 

  but the seventh day is a Sabbath of rest, 

  holy to the LORD . 

  Whoever does any work on the Sabbath day must be put to death.  

  The Israelites are to observe the Sabbath, 

  celebrating it for the generations to come as a lasting covenant.  

  It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, 

  for in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, 

  and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested.” 

    Exodus 12:16-17

Later on in Leviticus, the Sabbath Year is introduced, again a period of rest, but in this case for the farmland.

Although these laws seem to call for man’s imitation of God’s rest, it becomes clear that it is not a matter of imitation. The Sabbath is not so much because God rested that we should rest, but rather that He made the day holy because of the completion of His work. The Sabbath law does not call for one to rest after the completion of one’s work to reflect on it, as God had done. Rather it called for rest at a specified time, the time that God had rested, to reflect on the work that He had done.

These laws are also not for the sake of rest, as it may seem. One can argue that rest is necessary for people to function at their peak. We may point at burnout in those who overwork. We can argue the sabbath for the land is necessary for sustainable farming. While this may all be true, and while it may be true that God intends for us to rest, it is not the reasoning given in the text.

The Sabbath law is about worship, it was a sign of the covenant renewed between God and the Israelites, in much the same way that God had renewed His covenant with each of the patriarchs. It was a call to honour the day that God declared holy, and hence worshipping God’s holiness, above all other daily priorities that we might have had.

As Christians under the new covenant we often see the signs of the old covenant, whether they be circumcision or the observance of the sabbath, as unnecessary for our salvation. A discussion of this theology is beyond the scope of this paper, but the position taken here is that in Christ we are no longer bound by the written Law presented in Exodus (Romans 7).

The question that then arises is whether this renders the Sabbath obsolete or and meaningless. If ones observation of the Sabbath is driven by the legal or cultural requirement to rest, it clearly carries little spiritual significance. Such an observance would be as the righteousness of the Pharisees. However, within the elements of worship we can still find relevance for our lives.

In the Old Testament, the observation of the Sabbath reflected the their knowledge of God as the Creator. The Sabbath was a time for worshipping God for what he had completed in creating the world and mankind. They knew of Christ only as a future Saviour. For us however, Christ has already became substance. On the cross, “When Jesus therefore had received the sour wine, He said, ‘It is finished!’ And He bowed His head, and gave up His spirit”. On top of knowing God as the Creator, we can see a second work that Christ has completed in salvation for sinners. Through Romans, Hebrews, and 1 John the theme of Christ’s death completing and fulfilling the Law is repeated.

Although we are not bound by the Law to worship in a particular manner, the Sabbath serves as a model of sorts in the manner in which we are to worship, in much the same way that the Lord’s prayer in Matthew 6 serves as a template for us to learn to pray. The idea of regularly and setting aside time for reflection upon what God has completed is a concept we can bring into practice in our own lives.

This may take a traditional form in setting rules for ourselves in terms of weekly rest, especially if we are prone to the idolatry of work. For others, this time of worship might come in daily quiet time. Rest and recreation away from work in itself might be a good psychological practice, but to commune with God requires our worship.

The Image of God (for Oct. 15 class)
The concept of the image of God appears through our interpretation of Scripture not as a textually repeated theme, but rather as a perennial concept introduced in Genesis and referenced in the New Testament. It is an almost mystical sounding phrase, perhaps a mystery that merits curiosity because of its potential to explain who we are as humans in relation to God. The question "What is the image of God?" carries the same sense of enigma and import as "What is the character of God?". It s a question that we strive to answer in the process of building up our relationship with Him. How else are we to relate to a conceptual God if we do not know what He is like?

The word image used in Genesis 1:26-27 is used in reference to a physical likeness or conceptual form. However, only in Genesis, and only in reference to Man, is the concept of the image of the One True God used. It's most common usage in the Old Testament is a referencing the physical likenesses of other gods, that is idols used for worship. The word for God in these verses is Elohim, which, strangely enough, is plural. This plural form, however, is consistent with the use of the plural personal pronoun as God says "Let us make man in our image". Thus the most obvious interpretation is that we, as humans have been made in the physical likeness of God, in the same way that an image of a bull might have four legs and horns. So perhaps we are to believe that God is bipedal. This is in fact well supported in Scripture. God appears to both Abram (Genesis 18) and Jacob (Genesis 32). In both situations, it is clear that the patriarchs met with God. In both cases they are also described with meeting men, and not merely likenesses of men or ghosts. There is an element of this reflected in the person of Christ, being both in nature God and physically a man. However, there is a pedantic difference in John's account that the Word became flesh, implying that Christ in fact took on the image of man for the purpose of his salvation.

A second interesting point is the dual account of Genesis 1 and 2. The creation story is related in two rather different narratives. Where we see the image of God used in Genesis 1, the imagery in Genesis 2 is not the same at all. There is no indication that the man was formed to look like God. The new image introduced here however is that of God breathing life into the man. It is natural to connect these two concepts. The "image of God" and the "breath of life" are both elements that, in their respective narratives, are unique attributes in all of creation bestowed by God unto man. The use of the word breath in the Old Testament is used in a number of ways. In some cases it is used in the sense of respiration, as a sign of life (Deu 20:16). In other cases is translated in the sense of a spirit (Job 26:4, Pr 20:27). Furthermore, in many of the latter cases, there is an ambiguity in whether the spirit refers to a man's spirit, or God's spirit, almost as if it were indistinguishable. In the New Testament, the continuation of this theme is evident in the work Holy Spirit.

Because of the uniqueness of our endowment, it is often seen as a differentiating factor for man. No other creature in Creation had been blessed in this manner. We are the greatest element of creation because in us is displayed the image of God. At the same time this source of pride is a source of responsibility. Are we to believe that the sinful state we are in now truly reflects the glory of God? When we read the exhortation "Be Holy for I am Holy" (1 Pet 1:16), is it not a call for us to reflect the image in which we were made? The singularity of our being gifted with God's image makes it difficult to believe that it was something allotted to us randomly. Rather, was not the existence of the creation a reflection of the glory of the Creator? If so, then the highest element of creation should most closely reflect the glory of God. Instead, even secular culture often views man as the most negative element - the polluter and destroyer of the beauty of "Nature". How often do we look at ourselves and ask whether we reflect God's holiness in our place in creation, in our physical actions, and in our spiritual lives?

God makes an interesting proclamation in Genesis 9:6 "Whoever sheds man's blood, By man his blood shall be shed, For in the image of God He made man." The image of God is called upon as a cause for judgment, perhaps in the sense that an action against the image of God holds a sense of immorality more than an action against the rest of creation. How often do we neglect to see the shame poured upon us for blaspheming God as we sin against another person? How often do we sin against other people because we forget that they are created in God's image? Jesus reminds us of this, saying "The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent * that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'"(Matt 25:40).

If we interpret the image of God as a unique attribute that has been granted to Man above all creation, we can see it as either a physical or spiritual attribute (or both). Both attributes are carried through to the New Testament in the form of the Trinity. Man was made in the likeness of God in Genesis. Our physical likeness to God can be seen in Christ. Our spiritual likeness to God can be seen in the Holy Spirit. We can use God's image in us as a measure of the way we were created to be, unmarred by sin. We can see it as the governing principle in relating to others. The gospel of salvation and redemption, and the revelation of a new heaven and earth in the New Testament all points to a place where we can commune with God directly. Paul uses a similar phrase in his description of Christ, "And He is the image of the invisible God, the first-born of all creation" (Col 1:15). Christ was present as the plural God who said "Let us" in the beginning creation. Just as Christ's incarnation allowed Him to commune with people 2000 years ago, so being made in God's image allows us to not only worship and praise, but form a relationship with Him.

Random thoughts
I've been getting more connected with the young adults fellowship at PBC lately. Went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art with some people on Friday, hung around for lunch on Sunday, and had dinner with a YAF couple this evening (they cooked).

It's been about a month into this internship thing, and I'm still trying to find the discipline to study without excessive procrastination. Classes are interesting, I'm learning to read scripture in a more careful, studied, manner. The pastor teaching the current series on Genesis had a good observation, about being careful to try to read everything that comes out of the text, rather than trying to read too much into it. This one is tough, I often find myself seeing themes that are emphasised, wondering to myself whether I am seeing what is truthfully there, or whether I'm reading too much into it.

It's very difficult to come to scripture as a student seeking to learn. Too often we're encumbered by preconceptions of what we think it's supposed to say. Every once in a while, I check out Boundless Webzine. It's interesting to see that on their current poll, their readership is about 71% Republican/conservative, 7% Democrat/liberal, and 24% which are neither (makes me wonder about their math skills). They've occasionally got a good article, but the majority are opinionated and, in my opinion, more socially conservative than biblically Christian. It's funny how they're called "Boundless", yet their articles are titled "Has Chief Justice Moore Gone Too Far?" or "Did Madonna Go Far Enough?". I wouldn't trust their interpretations of Scripture, yet at the same time as I study I wonder if my liberal perspective is tainting the way I'm reading the text as it was intended.

I went surfing on Saturday, I pretty much sucked and was unable to really catch any waves at all over the first three hours I was there. In the end I was able to get up on my board after catching the white water on some broken waves. I'm sure it's probably considered cheating or not real surfing or something along those lines. I need to get more practice.

Close call
I freaked myself out with a close car accident on Saturday. I was speeding up as a slow car in front of me was pulling over to the right lane when he swerved back in and braked in front of me. I intended to slam on the brakes but somehow got my boot caught on the side of the brake pedal and ended up slamming on the gas. I managed to swerve around to the left lane while rocketing forward, missing the car in front. I oversteered and lost control and ended up swinging back and forth down the left land until i slowed down enough to regain control.
It was all pretty freaky, I'm damn lucky I didn't cause an accident. Major eye-opener to be attentive while driving.

Went hiking up to Monument Peak from Ed Levin park (PDF trail map) on Saturday too. I'm in horrible shape, my legs are still sore today. Unfortunately, my friend's brother has disabled his web server, which explains why all the photos are gone. I'm gonna have to find (or build) another server at some point to put up photos.

Here's the second homework assignment. Didn't really do a good job on it.

Genesis 2:4-25

Following the preface of the story of creation, Genesis 2 introduces the story of the fall. Near the literal center of the passage is God's first commandment to man: "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden, but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die." This commandment is twofold; the provision for the abundance of food contrasts the dire warning against breaching the one prohibited tree. Likewise, this chapter describes God's initial unmarred creation which later contrasts the darkness of the initial sin in the following chapter. This chapter focuses on God's role in this utopia, not only creating the earth and man, but also providing for more than the basic needs.

There is a parallel in God's treatment of the earth in the first half of the chapter to God's treatment of man in the second half. Like the account of creation in Genesis 1, the creation process described here occurs in various steps. In this case, the earth was created in an initial state that was functional as described in verses 5 and 6. However, it is made apparent in the language that this stage is incomplete. The description of the timing indicates very clearly how there was an initial state when the "mist *used* to rise from the earth" that was awaiting a later state, since at this point "no shrub of the field was *yet* in the earth". This compares to the man's initial state of being alone. Although he was made alive with God's breath in verse 7, God later determines that "It is not good for the man to be alone".

Perhaps in our modern picture of a timeless God there is introduced an element of unchangingness, not only in the sense that he does not change in his character, but also in the sense that we expect things from God to appear perfect, immediately. This notion is contradicted in Genesis 2, where God is portrayed to act in a linear fashion. He begins with something that is whole, but at the same time incomplete He can improve upon it and perfect it at a later stage. Often in our impatience we may find ourselves expecting some sense of perfection that God had not yet brought about. The impatient spirit may cause us to doubt instead of waiting patiently for the day we may be complete.

The second thing that God does here is to fill up. The land, initially empty, was filled by the garden and the introduction of man. Likewise God created masses of animals to fill the man's life. Presumably he is to rule the animals as described in chapter 1 but not chapter 2, hence his naming of all the animals does imply a certain authority. The language used to describe "every tree that is pleasing to the sight and good for food" and "every beast of the field and every bird of the sky" suggest the abundance that filled the earth and the life of the man.

As basic as the thought of God's provision is, it is difficult to take it seriously and trust God to provide in abundance. Oftentimes our perceived needs overshadow our real needs. We would then gain for ourselve or lose faith in His provison. But the comparison of the full earth and the empty earth should bring us into worshipful appreciation of our blessings rather than the dissatifaction of being sufficiently blessed, but not quite blessed enough to satisfy our desires.

Finally, God not only provides for the immediate needs, He also nurtures. We're not charged up and dumped into the world to fend for ourselves. Rather God provides for the needs for support and love. Just like the rivers flowed to water and nurture the garden, so God provides for the nurturing and growth of His children. In this particular case, we see God recognizing that “it is not good for the man to be alone”, and moreover that the animals that were created were not sufficient, hence He provided the man a helper in woman. He takes what is there initially, and turns it into a great blessing. The source river from Eden broke into four to water the Middle East. Adam's rib grew into another human being in the form of a woman.

It is very common for us to have one or few focuses for our lives, especially when they are areas of abundance. For many, these would be areas of success. Since our lives are filled we find confidence in these areas. For some it might be their career, for others it might be the ministries in which they serve. God however, recognizes that there are different types of needs. In this particular passage, He shows a sense of forethought into the type of nurturing the man would need, even though there is no current sign that it is a problem. Just as the garden might be lush, but would dry up without water, at some points our lives can be full of blessing, but may dry up if we aren’t nurtured. Perhaps ones career or hobbies might be outpacing the relationships where we can find nurturing. Another example is how ones ministries, if overly burdening, can distance us from our nurturing relationship with God.

Often we forget to see the goodness in God's provisions. As God speaks his commandment, it is very clear the initial set of trees were good and were intended as a blessing in providing food. The last three verses, ending in "the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed" also gives a sense of goodness in the relationship between man and woman. In the same way that it was possible to take the garden, intended for man's benefit, and corrupt it by eating the fruit, it also is possible to take our potentially nurturing relationships and corrupt them. In failing to recognize his goodness, we may search for our own idea of what is good, as is shown in the account of the fall.

Homework
I don't know how long it's been since I've had to do homework. Since I'm spending time writing this, I might as well post it up.

Genesis 1:1-2:3

The Bible begins by introducing us to God. The first verse of Genesis effectively introduces God as the initial and foremost character in the narrative of creation and the Bible. In essence He is not only the Character that is omnipresent in the created universe, but if we are to take the Bible seriously, the one that is omnipresent in our lives. In fact God is the only character involved in the account of creation. All other elements - light, darkness, sky, seas, land, heavenly bodies, plants, animals, and man – are secondary. Any themes introduced in this passage reflect God’s character in his design and actions. Although there are many minor themes and ideas introduced within this chapter that are reflected and repeated both within this text, and in the other texts of the Bible, they can be categorized in overarching themes of God’s power in his word and actions, God’s goodness in his design, and God’s holiness in his rest.

Perhaps God’s omnipresence and omnipotence are one and the same. It might be possible to argue that they are technically different, but the first three verses of Genesis simply awes us with both qualities in a God who singlehandedly “created the heavens and the earth”. He is a being so ancient that he was present and “moving over the surface of the waters” before the world as we know it came into being. His dominion extends to the point where he merely needs to utter “‘Let there be light’; and there was light”. God simply decreed the existence of the world, “and it was so”.

God’s power and presence are constantly echoed throughout scripture. The magnitude of his power is echoed in the Flood that covered the entire earth, returning it to its state before creation, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the plagues of Egypt, and the darkness and earthquake surrounding the death of Christ. His presence is affirmed in turning points in history, walking with Adam in Eden, appearing to the patriarchs through their pilgrimages, with the Israelites as a column of fire through the desert, walking among men in Galilee in Christ, and as the Spirit among believers at the Pentecost. The unchangedness of his character through the rise and fall of Israel and throughout the Biblical geneologies is reflected in Daniel where He is called the Ancient of Days. His authority is seen in microcosm when the centurion in Matthew 8 pleads with Jesus “but just say the word, and my servant will be healed”.

The account of creation shows a God that not only has a power to create, but one who does so with a sense of order and purpose. He is not like a painter that randomly throws paint on a wall in hopes of creating an aesthetic composition, but rather a sculptor which sees a statue of a man within a block of stone, or an architect who envisions a functional structure on an empty plot of land. The elements of creation complement each other to form an ordered structure out of chaos. Incompatible elements are separated into their own regions – light and darkness, sea and sky, earth and water – forming interfaces in which physical life could be sustained. A sense of natural order comes into being. Heavenly bodies governing the cycles of the days and seasons. Plants and creatures to spring forth, not randomly but according to their kind. There is an implicit role for the different elements of creation in their web of interactions with each other. Man exists to rule the other creatures, they exist to fill the earth. They have been provided plants to eat, which grow from the ground that was separated from water and the light that was separated from the darkness. There is the sense of provision that each element was created along with what it needed. Yet each element in itself was also not haphazardly created, but made and declared good.

God’s plan and provision are echoed throught the chronology that leads to Christ. In retrospect we can see God’s design in every step after the fall of man culminating in our redemption by grace. We see God work purposefully throughout the generations to bring the seed of Abraham to their promised land in Canaan. As we narrow in from the perspective of creation to the perspective of a nation, we see God’s provision in the mana that fed Israelites in the wanderings. On the individual level we see God’s provision for Abraham’s sacrifice instead of Isaac, or Boaz as a redeemer in the story of Ruth. On the scale of humanity we see Christ as the same provision of a sacrifice for us. The goodness of the elements of design are also echoed throughout scripture, whether described in the intricacies of the prescribed structure of the temple, or echoed in the Psalms or even in the beauty expressed in the Song of Solomon.

The story of creation closes off with the seventh day, which exists after the rest of creation was completed. In a way it emphasizes God’s holiness apart from his omnipotence – he does not exercise his power in creation, there is no awe of seeing something new come into existence. But yet a sense of reverence is conveyed in the vision that “the heavens and the earth were completed, and all their hosts”, perhaps akin to the awe of staring at something like the Grand Canyon and realizing the amount of energy slowly trickling over time to form such a grandiose structure, not seeing the process but awed by the result. God introduces the idea of standing in silence and awe, for the first time blessing an abstract, a day, instead of a physical creature.

This abstract concept of rest and holiness is crystalized in the practice of the Sabbath laws, but it seems also to be the template for our concept of symbolic worship. It represents our worship of God’s holiness in itself rather than as an offering of thanksgiving for something He has done, or a sacrifice for atonement for something we have done. This attitude of worship is seen throughout the patriarchs, in David’s psalms, through the prophets, and finally in our embrace of God’s grace after Jesus declared that his work is done.

Genesis 1 speaks to us in terms of God’s character. Our knowledge of Him would therefore have to be applied to our relationship to Him or our relationship with the world around us. God’s power and purpose lead us into faith in Him. That is, a faith that is grounded in our knowledge of His provision for us, and supported by our understanding of his power and presence. In our moments of weakness, we can trust in His providence, knowing that our lives and actions fit in to those of others around us. In our times of need we realize that he is able to provide. His goodness and holiness arrests us to reconsider our interactions with other people. It causes us to question whether we can look at our own acts and declare that they are good, as they should be in the light of God’s holiness. And finally, God’s rest sets an example in our worship to Him. This rings true especially in a culture where we can be constantly busy, often times devoting only an hour or two in worship a week, with our minds racing with the other concerns in life. The appreciation of His holiness however reminds us of worship that is pure and focused on Him who, being the sole Character responsible for creation, is also the sole recipient for our adoration.

Dusting off the keyboard
It's been a long time since I've been here, where I've felt like I've had any thoughts worth the effort of logging, and now out of nowhere there's a torrent. Perhaps over the summer I've been falling into that place of being comfortable, dealing with machines at work and avoiding people and all the complications that lie with them, their fallacies and unpredictabilities.
But dealing with people forces you to think outside of the paradigm of what make sense. Thoughts become more abstract and hence one needs to think broader. Maybe from there the trickle of creativity begins to flow. On Sunday I met a kid at church, maybe 9 years old. He was drawing the charge diagram of some high speed solid state device which I did not understand. It could have been a bunch of junk, but as he stuttered to describe the few commercial applications and the roadblocks in the fabrication process, even the EE PhD students were weirded out. But although not autistic, this kid certainly still had difficulty in communicating at the level of "normal" people. There's something intriguing about people and the way we think, feel and act.

I went to the YAF ministry team meeting today. I realized I've quietly passed my two year mark down here. When I first moved down, I had the strong desire to be an observer, to absorb the environment, to understand what was going on. I don't feel comfortable jumping into some place new and leading the charge into the unknown. But today I had that familiar feeling, sitting in a long, drawn out vision meeting. I've moved from being an observer at a church, watching the clergy as they perform there practiced routines as they lead the rest of us in ordered worship, to the place amidst the so-called leaders and recognizing that they are, at the same time, only human, struggling to meet that desire to serve in our need to worship.

It's that feeling of crossing the line from feeling awkward or incapable and afraid to break the system, in case we should appear brash over to the position that we know that we can serve despite our imperfection. The knowledge that although human, there is still love in the group and our failures will be met without the judgement we fear. Maybe some will describe the feeling as being called. It's an echo of the feeling I had when I finally quit avoiding CCF and looked inside, and saw, instead of the confident leadership I was expecting, a humble and not altogether capable committee that had the heart to reach out to people and glorify God. I've missed that.

I've also started on the internship program at PBC. It's been somewhat odd to return to doing homework and writing essays, but the process has been also invigorating. We'll see where it goes.

Concert Weekend
Alright I'm cheating a bit because although I intended to update a few days ago, I haven't gotten to it until today (which is actually June 5). Life's been relatively dull lately, aside from being quite busy at work. Last friday was a bit more interesting than usual. Billy managed to scare up 5 lawn tickets to the Coldplay show at the Shoreline, so we got 3 old friends and 2 new ones and decided to fight the traffic up to the amphitheater, which is only about 15 minutes away on the highway, but the traffic to the parking made more like 45 minutes (nevermind the wait to get out of the place afterwards).

Since the ladies took there time arriving (apparently held up at In-n-Out, but they didn't bring any food for the rest of us), we got in after opener Eisley had already gone into their second song. Even though we sent one of the guys in early, we still ended up pretty far back on the lawn. At 8pm, it was still light outside, the bunch of people in front of us were enjoying a pretty well packed picnic, complete with wine and imported cheese. Eisley had a nice sound, the lead singer had delightful, girlish voice, and the music was enjoyably mellow. Might be the kind of stuff you'd pop in your CD player at home, but not particularly, um, exciting. Unfortunately for them, the crowd was pretty apathetic. Out in the lawn, I think half the people didn't even notice them leave the stage (didn't help that they were playing a recording which sounded pretty much the same as they cleared the stage). But considering the whole band looked like a bunch of kids, who knows where they'll be in a few years.

The second act was Canadian Ron Sexsmith, whom I've heard of, but never listened to, and knew very little about. I didn't really pay that much attention to the set either, it stirred much less interest than the first band. I grabbed a $4 hot dog somewhere in there.

It was dark by the time the headline band took the stage, and the anticipation had been brewing for almost two hours. Apparently, the sold out crowd was the largest audience they'd had, and through the 90 minute show lead singer Chris Martin was bouncing like a madman on his piano stool. I'm nothing close to a Coldplay fan; I own Parachutes, but I haven't paid attention to the names of half the songs. The first few songs, like "The Scientist", were recognizable from radio play, but there were a bunch from the second, more recent album A Rush of Blood to the Head that I hadn't heard before. However, like all good shows, they saved the best for last, with a defined crescendo effect in both the crowd and the energy of the songs. The highlights, still were definitely the hits, 'Yellow' and 'Clocks', as well as their rendition of Louis Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World'. Through the whole concert, Martin's voice was on the mark and the fans loved it. In the end though, I was really glad I went to see a band who'd use their fame on behalf of the oppressed, and of course thank those who came to watch sitting out "9 miles away".

On Saturday I took a bunch of kids to Great America, which is pretty much the equivalent of Canada's Wonderland, with mostly the exact same rides with different names. They were running a "Christian" event (and a highly profitable one at that), featuring a number of Christian bands, like 'Jars of Clay' and 'Newsboys' performing throughout the day. To be frank, after picking up the Access:d double album a month ago, I've been somewhat of a Delirious? fanboy. So there was somewhat of a tightening in my stomach when I could hear a rendition of "I Could Sing of Your Love Forever" going in the background as I was passing by the bumper cars in the afternoon, thinking that all the concerts would be in the evening. We made it in to a half full amphitheater (I'm sure it would have been packed in the evening, but hey, good for us). The front was clearly packed and energetic, more subdued and elderly individuals hung out near the back. I caught the last few sets, including "History Maker" and "Investigate". Man, if you love rocking music, these guys are great. Although lead vocal Martin Smith's voice cracked and went atonal at some points, these guys were playing loud and hard. There's a lot of Christian music out there that seems like it's getting sold mostly because it's "Christian". I often find I'm uncomfortable with myself, split between feeling guilty thinking that certain music is drab, though it was written to glorify God in some manner other, and thinking that the artist must be trying gouge the Christian market with overpriced products that are really just mediocre. I think d? is one of the few bands who's got music I just long to listen to, like the fact that disc 1 is in my car player while disc 2 is playign here at work. Now if I can get a bunch of people and get in on an entire concert! Hm, what's this, they're playing in Toronto on June 30. Any takers? I definitely want some more.

Old
There's definitely a feeling of being old when friends your age start getting married. Feeling old aside, congratulations to Ken and Ann.

It's been another one of those days. It's becoming somewhat of a tradition on weekends, to come to the realization that the clock says 12:00. A minute later it rolls over to 12:01 and I realize I'm not imagining anything, the clock is still working. It really is midnight, and almost everything is closed. And that hunger? That's not a figment of my imagination either. I call up Top Cafe in Milpitas, a rather crummy little place with little claim to fame except that they're open past midnight. I order fried rice with chicken and salted fish, and the guy on the other end of the line says ten minutes.

I dawdle a few more minutes, mostly because there's no place to wait at the restaurant, since the tables are almost always full at this time. It's not a long drive; I normally swing by the ATM on the way there. Without fail, the manager, the guy that took my order, is behind the counter which holds the neatly tied plastic bag. He always says something that translates roughly to "What can I help you with, brother?", I point mutely to the bag and pass him a twenty. He grabs $13.25 from the cash register. He always double checks it before handing it over, which is great, since I just cram it into my pocket, reminding myself that if I hadn't thought of being hungry, I probably wouldn't have noticed the gnawing emptiness.

When I get home, I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice. The soy sauce, mustard, Tabasco and the jug of Tropicana are the few items in the fridge that don't belong to my roomate. I always used to see a glass of orange juice as a part of a complete breakfast on cereal commercials, but throughout my childhood, I only had milk. It wasn't until recently that I realized that orange juice goes well with almost everything except for dessert, fried rice included.

I get back to my desk and plop down the large styrofoam box beside my notebook and pop it open. The top of the glistening pile has been flattened by the lid. I look at it thinking that it's got to be the size of two meals and dig into immediately. It's reached that perfect temperature where it's hot but doesn't scorch your tongue. The chicken adds some bounce to the texture, while somehow the lettuce in there adds crispness despite being cooked. The fish is balanced by the plentiful ginger, essential to the dish. Admittedly, there's the occasional bite that's overwhelmingly salty, but that's a minor price to pay for a dining experience that can hardly be expressed in words. Despite the size of the box, I've never been able to stop myself before cleaning it out, leaving the bottom of the box empty except for that grease lining.

Fear
It must have been in high school when my parents bought me that thick and monstrously green parka. I recall feeling removed from the world in that coat; buried so far within the cozy warmth plush down and gore-tex as to be oblivious to the realities of the bone-numbing cold and howling wind while standing at the bus station. In fact, I have very little recollection of ever being cold as a child. I have significantly more memories of being overdressed. Toronto winters faced a formidable foe in my mom's exuberance in keeping us bundled.

These thoughts floated through my head two weekends ago as I sat at the Nevada end of the Skyline Trail at Heavenly waiting for the rest of my friends to make it through the deep powder of the unexpectedly flat traverse from the California side of the mountain (the resort rests across the Cal-Neva state line). It was cutting towards the end of an incredibly long day. We had got up early to use our free spring passes at another resort. After renting equipment and driving and hour and a half through white-out conditions on a mountain highway, we were turned back by Caltrans workers standing in the middle of the road in their yellow jumpsuits, citing that the rest of the highway was closed due to avalanche dangers.

Resolved not to let the trip be a complete waste, we headed to Heavenly after stopping for a quick lunch. Located minutes away from the town itself, we hadn't seen any sign of a mountain in the thick snow. People were already leaving by the time we pulled into the parking lot. We bought our $44 half-day passes and headed up the empty gondola. We spent a few hours snowboarding through the blizzard, the howling wind blasting snow against any exposed skin. Late in the afternoon though, we were rewarded for our efforts as the snow settled and the clouds finally parted. I remember feeling a warmth on my face, sliding down a steep, thigh deep powder run as it opened up with shafts of sunlight. It was one moment where the resort's name was certainly fitting.

It's 15:30, half an our short of the universal 16:00 time when all ski lifts shut down. We decide to check out the Nevada side of the mountain since we've paid to be here. The brief respite from the sun had faded and clouds were coming back in as we got off the top of the lift. We started down the Skyline Trail, but it wasn't long before we had to unbuckly and push. Eventually Billy and I got too far ahead, I slumped into a snowdrift to hide from the now furious winds. Billy began burying me, but a little too slowly. His story about not knowing where I was, and only seeing my snowboard in the snowbank worked for a few moments until Sinyee spotted the reflection of my goggles which weren't fully buried. After what seemed like endless skating through some flat and almost uphill portions of the extended traverse, amidst intensifying wind and snow, we made it to the end of the Skyline Trail.

I'm sitting there catching my breath, very thankful for my new goggles and my normally-too-thick green parka, straining to make out shapes that might be Sinyee and Xun catching up obscured in twirling snow. What little exposed skin I have is stinging from the icy pellets thrown against it, but the rest of me feels secure, bunkered in beneath layers of plastic, fleece and down. My thoughts flicker back to the evening we spent climbing our way out of the Grand Canyon, underdressed for the night time cold, and out of food and water. I wasn't particularly afraid then, mostly because I was too tired to think. Like that evening, here we are trying to make our way home, without being able to see our way to the end of the trail. Sitting on top of the mountain, in the middle of a snowstorm, it occurred to me how frail we were. Normally a ski resort with groomed runs presents a majestically primal structure of rock and stone tamed for human enjoyment. Yet in a blizzard, where your visibility is limited to 10 feet and all paths look alike covered under a virgin blanket of white, the mountain looks like any other wilderness.

And here I am thinking how warm and comfortable I am, armored against such weather. I understand quite clearly, that this were indeed a wilderness, and I was indeed stuck out here, it would be over pretty soon after I finished my last PowerBar. Who knows, my board would probably carry me to the base of the mountain. After that I'd perhaps make it a few miles, plowing through the waist deep snow, before I run out of calories, or find myself a warm cozy shelter, strike up a match, and find myself face to face with a rudely awakened carnivore. I often wonder how much faith we put on the trappings of civilization. Whether they be the physical shelters warding off Nature, society's structure protecting us from Anarchy, or even our theological suppositions hiding us from God. It took a snowstorm for me to realize how thin my coat really was, despite the fact that I was warm inside. Sometimes passages like Leviticus 10 makes me wonder how thin my moral righteousness may be, and despite my comfort, how safe am I underneath it all.

The grey shapes finally caught up to us, and as we continued, feeling for the stiffer snow that indicated the packed trail underneath, we eventually found a clear downhill slope to take us to the bottom. What happened after that? We decided not to risk our lives driving home in that weather and instead stayed over onto Monday to experience the absolutely fabulous powder at Kirkwood.

Reticent
I realized I've blogged much less recently. I took a break over Christmas and went to Hong Kong, where I overate, overshopped, and probably overindulged. For a week and a half I was completely entertained and freed from responsibilities. I had my notebook all my work along with VPN access to the work network; I only turned it on to download photos.
Now that I'm back, often sitting at my desk, trying to catch up with work I wish was done a week ago, I feel surprisingly renewed, although it's still a struggle to convince myself that I am indeed back at work. It's been a while since I've had this feeling of wanting something more and something different. Perhaps it sounds as if the whole work-sleep-work routine kills the soul or robs the spirit, but I think I myself have failed to nurture that creative desire.
Every day that I got home, too tired to read a book, write a thought, take a picture, peruse art, listen to music, enjoy a sunset, cook a dish, savour a meal, or stop to let myself think was another day I let what little inspiration I had whither away. The thing with this work thing, is that it doesn't require much in terms of discipline after you get home. There isn't much you need to do from day to day, aside from maybe keeping the bills paid and the washroom clean. With a fear of being overly disciplined (read: uptight), I realize I've almost no discipline at all. Heck, sometimes I don't even make myself go deposit a cheque until I'm worried that they won't accept it anymore (there seems to be a 90-day limit on these things here).
So discipline it is. I think I'll start with trying to finish off Robotech: Battlecry, which I started quite a while ago, but haven't finished...

Pursuit of finer things
I finished Reluctant Saint: The Life of Francis of Assisi on the plane over to Hong Kong. I know little of the author, Donald Spoto, but the jacket claims he's a biographer with a Ph.D. in theology. He claims to be attempting an honest and accurate portrayal of St. Francis, and I can only assume that to be true. The book is as much a biography as a call to holiness. It's not a legalistic "this is right, that is wrong" book, but a portrayal of someone who honestly tried to live a life of faith and worship despite his personal failings.

Francis was born at the end of the 12th century in medieval Europe to a very wealthy textile merchant. He spent his youth squandering his parents' money, throwing parties and being generally generous with the wealth that was not his own. Eventually, in his early 20s, he realized the emptiness in his life, a hole that was eventually filled when he found God. Unfortunately, his ideals for serving God clashed with his parents will, leading him to eventually forfeit his human parents in his desire to serve.

Alone and without financial support, Francis' desire was to live according to the Gospel, and he did that by imitating Jesus. With no desire for wealth or financial well being, and with what would often be considered a blind and perhaps rash and extremist faith, he took Jesus' words on trusting God for earthly provisions to heart, Francis took on the task of rebuilding a decrepit church building, preaching and tending to lepers and social outcasts.

With a philosophy that excluded earthly possessions yet encouraged hard labour, Francis lived a faith in a much more radical manner than most Christians today are willing to accept. Jesus instructed his disciples to go forth with little more than the clothes on their backs (Matthew 10), while most of the world functions on rational preparation. Even within the church, parents teach their children the merits of working hard - not necessarily to glorify God, but to secure their livelihoods. It is a foreign concept to entrust our livelihoods to God by faith and spend our time in worship. Even many mission organizations are unwilling to send workers out before they have raised a significant portion of their support. Too often Christians' peace comes not from faith, but from the security one finds in significant financial savings or secure employment. Too often I find the way I live reflects little of what I say I believe, but rather the culture I grew up in.

Take for example, the fact that I was reading such a book on the plane, yet the day after I arrived, I'm already checking out the BOSS sale at Lane Crawford where I pick up a v-neck because it's 40% off (although it's still overpriced after the discount). I realized the frivolity of my purchase, and in regret I got some bargain basement Bossini khakis (2/HKD$160) that happily averaged out the total cost to something reasonable for three pieces of clothing, even though I really have very little use for the pants. [addendum: I seemed to have forgotten to pack the aforementioned shirt and it's likely still in Hong Kong. What irony.]

Hong Kong's quite different from the place I remember from my youth. Gone are the cheap video games and electronics - both Sony and Canon digital cameras can be had for cheaper in the States, and there aren't many "newer, cooler" models that aren't available in North America. And while there's still plenty of pirate videos in the form of VCDs and DVDs, the more expensive legitimate products are more available and easier to find. One interesting retail concept I found was a pirate VCD/DVD/CD/Software store, with cellophane wrapped disks with poorly reproduced covers (such as Elizabeth Hurley gracing the cover of Striptease instead of Demi Moore, and misspelled names such as "Samuel L. Jack"). With no employees, and only a plastic basket with some change acting as the cash register, I felt strangely confused with the ethical dilemma of whether to be honest and leave the proper payment for flagrantly illicit pirate materials, especially since I could save myself the HKD$30 and download the stuff myself.

However the question of moral behaviour was decidedly absent when I shopped Tsim Sha Tsui. Lane Crawford has expanded and launched a new youth targetted store called LCX. Stocked with a bevy of American brands (Gap, Banana Republic, Guess, Miss Sixty, Energie, Quiksilver, etc.) commanding a significant premium (Gap khakis were on par with Toronto prices after a 50% discount), it may have appealed to Hong Kong youth, but it's unlikely to draw many tourists.

The designer boutiques seemed more popular, which wasn't surprising considering the Gap isn't too much cheaper than D&G here. I spent an afternoon browsing through a few shops. Burberry, Gucci and Prada all seemed quite popular. For the most part, the price tags dissuaded me from impending fashion lust, but only afterwards did any consideration of proper stewardship cross my mind. For as much as I'd like not to be materialistic, selfish, or greedy, to be able to live simply and be grateful, I know I am an incredibly long way off.

What time is it?

I've set aside this evening for packing my suitcase for Hong Kong. At the moment however, the said suitcase is still sitting, empty, in my closet. My clothes, also resting in the closet, look rather satisfied, with no sign of any inclination to move themselves into the suitcase. The suitcase itself doesn't look like it wants to come out and open itself either, so it might be a moot point to ask anything of the clothes. Apparently, gentle coaxing and peaceful negotiations don't work well with suitcases. Should this one continue to remain closed against the requests of the closet inspectors, I will have to resort to using force and dragging it from its rightful place at the closet floor.

Moving to more nutritious matters, it looks like the food girl has gotten tired of waiting for restaurant and movie reviews and she's contributing some of her own. To make up for the lapse, let me recommend the Top o'the Senator in Toronto, which is really a jazz club instead of a restaurant. One website told me that it's located on top of the Senator steakhouse, hence the name and the facility for a dinner and show. From what I could observe, the Senator is dead and now replaced by the Torch Bistro, which provides the dinner before the show. A dinner reservation gets you a reserved seat upstairs for after dinner, but the price of the meal does not include the $14/person cover to get upstairs later.

The restaurant ambience is rather dry, the aged hardwood floors need refinishing to give this establishment the sense of elegance it needs. Curtained booths add a sense of privacy and cut down the noise for decent conversation, but the 7 foot waiter towering above the table was a bit disconcerting regardless of service. Appetizers ($7-10) were mediocre, and the chocolate cake ($?) was dense, but not impressive. Both the lamb sirloin ($28) and the duck leg confit ($26) however, came across nicely. As I found out with a little research afterwards, a confit is a meat preserved by slow cooking in its own fat. Kinda like deep frying at lower temperatures. Doesn't sound particularly healthy, but it certainly ends up very tender and extremely tasty. Given the decor though, the food seemed overpriced - perhaps if they waived the cover it'd be a good deal (2.5/5).

The club upstairs was long and thin, with the band on the near end, table seating at the far end, and benches and bar tables in between, running the length of the room. It's reminiscent of the Village Vanguard down in NYC, with considerably more atmosphere (read dimmer lights and denser crowd) than the restaurant below. Music from the Eliana Cuevas sextet the night I went was very latin, but varied from ballads to quite lively (4/5).

The past week has been a continuous rainstorm here, with periods of drizzle interspersed to alleviate the monotony. I normally don't notice much except on the drive to and from work, but I guess this is how the weather makes up for the last six months of cloudless skies. I'm just disappointed that I didn't choose to go up to Tahoe either this past weekend, or the coming weekend, considering they've gotten about 10' of fresh white stuff in the last week or so. Who am I kidding. I'm not going to complain about missing out on a white Christmas for fears of bitterly cold Torontonians. I'll leave you guys with a happy Canadian-wannabe, since I'm gonna have to go drag that suitcase out for a bit of stuffing.

Still no pics
Today's blog was almost predestined to let loose the floodgates of expletives to wash the few weary readers asunder. Instead I feel like a veritable god or lesser deity. Maybe just a guru, since I know that I've barely just stemmed that flow of foul-mouthed horror. How is this so? What can impassion one so deeply, and fling one's soul from the depths of despair to the dizzying summits of bliss?

None other than our dear friend, the x86 instruction set. Debugging this code is some sort of medieval torture, if they had computers in medieval days, or maybe it's just modern day tech-torture. Of course being able to fix something in it is quite the opposite. Like landing a spacecraft on the moon. Well, maybe not, but I'm sure those that had to land a spacecraft on the moon had plenty of their own assembly to deal with, even if it wasn't x86.

Now only if the female psyche was so easy to decipher...

...
I remember seeing what I thought was the peak of Mt. Whitney a few hours into our hike a few months back, thinking "That summit looks like it's 2 weeks away". But hiking's the process of putting one foot in front of the other until you reach that peak. I try not to talk about work into this blog, but to be honest, it takes up a good 12+ hours a day lately. And with a deadline coming up in two weeks, that looks like it'll take a month to reach, it's a matter of taking it a step at a time.
I snapped a bunch of random pics at the Halloween Party on Castro last night. If any of them come out decent I'll post something up.
Lyd's blog reminds me of having window seat dim sum at Dynasty on Bloor last year, watching snow swirling around the shoppers hurrying along the street.
Alright, back to work.

Chat
Looks like Blogger got hacked, but it seems that this would only affect those who are using FTP to publish (instead of blogspot). It's been a busy week, er, month. I'm thinking it's Monday night, but it's Friday already. The last 120 hours sure went by fast.

I went surfing last Sunday on some pretty great waves. More work than snowboarding, but it's a lot cheaper. In response to a few other bloggers, should they happen to surf by here:

Wongoz, they probably didn't wave the pricetags around at photokina (why can't they have those shows over here?) SD9 $1800, EOS-1Ds $8000, and considering each pixel on the SD9 is equivalent to almost 3 pixels ont the EOS-1DS. Of course, the EOS-1Ds has tonnes more features. Oh, and I wouldn't mind linking to your home page if there was a direct link to your current blog from there.

Yuling: brought up a few interesting questions, but the failure of philosophy is reducing arguments to technicalities that don't translate into anything meaningful in reality. Both the oak tree and the omnipotence issue are a matter of language and definition. Using the given definition of an oak tree, there are no such things as oak trees. Hence God cannot create one. Shucks. Similarly, the implied definition of omnipotence is being able to do the impossible. It depends if you believe God exists in an alternat plane free of any logical or mathematical laws. For example, can God make 1=0?
I was at a Pascal Lecture in Waterloo given by Donald Knuth titled "God and Computer Science", where he outlines the idea that if God's ability was incomprehensibly large, but finite, it would make no practical difference to us than if he were omnipotent.

Jon: I'm sure you and Justin must have had a fabulous time shoe shopping. Did you get matching bags? I'm sure you did.

Tam: Update! Even if it isn't in blog form :)

Alright, now for a nice relaxing weekend...

Clarification
I don't dig blondes. However, as suggested by Wongz, I do dig the Sigma SD9 which was the camera used to capture that picture linked in the last post. It's a 3.3 Megapixel camera like my current G1, but the Foveon sensor's actual resolution is much higher. Unfortunately, so is the price tag. I seriously need an inside source.
Death by VHS
It seems like months since I went to see a movie in the theaters; six months ago i must have been going once a week. I caught the ring last night with low expectations, following unimpressive reviews on the Star and New York Times. Perhaps it was the preparation for disappointment, but the horror film actually came off as not bad. It's a far cry from the teeny scream flicks that were poured out on the general public a few years back. The film is much more of an unfolding mystery or detective story, but with an ominous creepiness weighing down the entire film. It was reminiscent of What Lies Beneath, but with more asian inspired style, and less Hitchcockian suspense. The film had it's share of faults. There were a lot of themes thrown in that made little sense, but successfully added to the creepiness. The plot was mostly predictable but had just barely enough minor twists thrown in to keep make it slightly interesting. The suspense was lacking in a few scenes that were cut a little too long. But overall, it was entertaining, and the concepts successfully more freaky than comedic. Luckily for me, I only watch DVDs. (3.5 / 5)

Drool...
Boy oh boy do I ever want one of these (warning, slow download).

Damn Yankees
Scenario: Madman sniper in Maryland takes a pleasure drive up to D.C. where he does the peaceful peoples of the world a favour by taking out the biggest threat to world peace.
Crazy talk you say? Maybe we should go with the president's philosophy. Confronting grave dangers is the surest path to peace and security. Aristotle spoke of politics as the practical branch of philosophy with which to govern people for their benefit. It's becoming clear, however, that American foreign policy is based on the philosophies of "the best defense is a good offense" as much as "might makes right".
Even if one believes that Dubya, son of oil speculator George Sr., is acting out of national defense rather than middle eastern oil-field speculation, the philosophy of using weapons of mass destruction in order to prevent another country from creating them, simply confounds me.
Yeah, I haven't blogged in a while. Most writers have their muse, whether it be ecstasy or despair, which I assume is why the less artistically inclined tend to fade into the daily grind. I think I'm missing that joie de vivre, the extra bam! I've had little to think about and less to tell the world. Perhaps I can claim that I've figured out there really isn't much to figure out. But thank you George, your October 16th Iraq Resolution has brought forth waves of revulsion in my soul like nothing else in the past year. It's no wonder the world hates America.

So damn cute

Blah blah blah
What a rut. I need to find something to do. We might go surfing this weekend.
Anyways, there was an earthquake, way back on May 13. I was on the phone at the time, and at first I heard a loud rumbling - I thought it was just someone moving a heavy load outside, but it was awfully loud. After a few seconds, I could feel the wall I was leaning against shake heavily for a few seconds. It didn't seem like any of the crazy earthquake videos I've seen, and although I could see things shake, it died down before I got anxious. The more amusing story was related by my co-worker - he thought there was something wrong with his head when he couldn't maintain his aim on the toilet...

Dark clouds over July
It's been a while since I last looked at other people's blogs. The month has been pretty dry - but who am I to talk; it's been three weeks since I've last touched this though it hasn't seemed half that long. A lot of things have passed since then, and I can't remember everything that I've meant to pen here.

June 30^th was the closest thing we've had to a perfect day trip. Our group met for lunch on the patio of the Parkside Cafe (3/5), a stone's throw away from Stinson Beach, a relaxed beachside community isolated about an hour north of San Francisco by a twisty stretch of Pacific hugging highway. After an extended lunch under the lazy weekend sun, some of us toured the beach while the rest drove two cars to the top of Mt. Tamalpais. After returning to the beach in a third car, we hiked up one of the many trails from the beach to the top of the mountain.

The seven and a half mile hike took us about three and a half hours at a relaxed pace, though sections of the trail were steep enough to feel sweat dripping down our foreheads and our hearts pounding with the ascent. We got to the top about an hour early for our goal. On the peak was a fire watchtower, where firemen were posted two weeks at a time, scanning the horizon for signs of forest fires in the dry season. While they had their supper within the confines of their cramped tower, we sat on the rocks, watching the thick fog blow in from the Pacific, over San Francisco and the Golden Gate to the southeast.

As the shadow of the mountain stretched slowly, mile by mile, over the city of Sausalito below, the mercury dropped and the rushing of the winds picked up. Most of the tourists - photographers drawn by the perfect light, couples searching for a romantic spot behind clump of rocks, or families of hiking kids - had already left the peak, but a handful, including our group, stayed to watch the last fleeting rays as the sun dropped below the mountains to the west.

On the drive back, we stopped at Cristophe for dinner. A four course French cuisine that was hearty enough to leave each of us stuffed to the seams after the long day on the trail came to $22 (4/5).

The next evening, after a church and a quiet afternoon, I was completely shocked to hear Amy's anguished cries over the phone, telling me that her father had passed. For a moment I was firmly entrenched in reality, yet the moment passing seemed surreal as the cell phone disconnected, and I felt only a total sense of helplessness. Later, when I was in Economy check-in line for United Airlines, I had the same disoriented sense watching people milling about the airport. Businessmen looked busy on cell phones. Some mothers tended their children on the benches while fathers waited in line with the luggage. Other families looked well prepared for a South Pacific vacation. One girl, who looked no more than seventeen, was carrying a baby in the ticketing line for almost the entire hour that I was in the check-in line, yet she still had a contented look on her face as she played with the child.

There's a dissonance in the perception of men. Standing there in the airport, I could see the happiness in the family gladly looking towards their vacation, the anticipation on the face of the old woman who was going home, the determination of the business flyers, yet inside I felt the incurable trauma that another family was living. As immense that it was, a complete breach in the fabric of their reality, I also knew that life went on as usual for most of the other six billion faces on the planet. Indeed, no one else at the airport would likely guess as to why I was travelling that day. Never before that day, have I ever looked at person waiting at the airport, thinking 'oh, they must be travelling to visit a dying relative'.

Already in the small circle of blogs, are there mentions of at least two other passings in the last two months. Our response - the feelings of sympathy, the words of consolation, are so drastically different than those in the lives directly touched. I sit here at my desk wondering and completely oblvious to what's going on at the current moment: children in Africa who maybe saying goodbye to their parents, parents in Cambodia who could be putting their children to rest.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

An exceeding high mountain

Two weeks ago, a group of Waterloo grads made it to Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 states. That's actually a bit of hyperbole, since it only ranks 28 in the list of tallest mountains in North America.
We started on a Friday evening, with two minivans driving seven hours to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. After camping out for a few hours in tents and the vans, most of us were up by 4am. By 5am we were on our way to the Whitney Portal Trailhead. While we started out as a group, we had pretty much split up into a number of smaller groups after the first 4 miles.
A 15 hour hike generally gives you plenty of time to think. When you're not thinking 'how much further to the peak?', you may ponder some of life's more interesting questions. Like 'why the !@#$ am I doing this?'. I don't know what the driving force is for climbing up a mountain. In essence we hiked 22 miles that day, and ended up at the same campsite we started at. By 3pm, we made it to the summit, which at 14,493 feet, is about half the height of Everest. It's not like you're actually reaching an especially high altitude - anyone who's been on a 747 has probably been three times as high.
Halfway to the peak, you're already thinking about going to sleep by the side of the trail. The air is thin enough to give you vertigo after hiking a hundred feet, and it was cool enough for snow and ice to wander across the trail in patches. Climbing up the switchbacks become a matter of just putting one foot ahead of another until you reach the summit. By the time you reach 4,000 ft., the air is thin enough to make your head hurt. Winds are howling around you, and the trail gets rough. You have to pull out the fleece and the winter gloves. You look up to the summit, your head pounding and feet aching, the final two miles seem to stretch incredibly further than the first nine.
Somewhere along the way you realize just how rugged nature is - piles of rocks that have been around for hundreds of thousands of years. Snow that never melts. Trees and shrubs and even grass have stopped growing a few thousand feet below you. The glare of the high altitude sun blazes around you throught the cloudless sky, burning as it ripples off the icy surfaces of the lakes pooled below you.
When you look down from the summit, you realize the incredible beauty behind the piles of bleak rock, veins of ice crawling down the mountains, and half-frozen aqua lakes whose surfaces are in wrinkled with floating ice. In every direction around you, the Sierra Nevadas break the horizon while the wind bites into your skin. "What does man gain from all his labor at which he toils under the sun?" What is changed by climbing up a mountain? Compared to the age of rocks and ice, what lasting value do any of man's accomplishments have?
"Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart, and whatever your eyes see, but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgement." Forget the pain, hunger, and cold on the way up, it all disappeared with the thrill of being at the top.

Days gone by
There are times when life simply flies by in a blur, like the cornstalks whizzing past as you hurtle down the pavement cutting through the midst of them. Maybe you're preoccupied with the traffic, maybe you're driving too fast, or maybe you've just been mesmerized by the little yellow lines flipping by regularly one after another, like days in a neverending calendar.

It was the Memorial Day long weekend May 24-27. Since Lancer and Corgan went down to E3 the week before, the rest of us up in the Bay packed ourselves up and prepared ourselves for the grueling long weekend traffic down to L.A., our rental Windstar merely an ant in the trail of crawling metal stretching 300 miles down to LA. We left San Jose, Friday night at 5pm, which was probably about the worst time we could have left. We arrived at the L.A. Westin Airport hotel seven hours later. Our two Priceline rooms, at $70 each a night, had plush pillows, clean comforters, and fancy double-headed showers. The hotel also happened to be hosting a Gaming Conference, with all the included characters.


Our first destination on Saturday was the Getty Museum. We met up with the Ottawa crew by the tram from the parking to the museum, about an hour after they were supposed to arrive. We spent the first half of the day wandering the galleries in the off white pavilions, wandering through the manicured gardens and topiary. After a lunch of grilled chicken and fig sandwiches and mozzarella, tomato and basil calabrese at the Garden Terrace cafe, we finished up at the museum and drove along Mulholland Drive, through the Beverly Hills, and up to the Hollywood sign. The sign itself is supposed to be off limits, although there's a relatively rough off-road trail that makes it accessible to those willing to make the hike. When you get to the 45 foot tall steel letters, you realize there really isn't much there, just a bit of garbage here and there, evidence of people having had their fun.


After getting up to the lonely landmark of the oppulent and taking a few photos - trophies of our conquest - we hiked back to the cars where some of the less adventurous were napping. We drove back down to Rodeo Drive; it was almost 6pm and the designer boutiques were closing up. After swinging past the far-too-expensive storefronts, browsing through the assortment of fancy automobiles parked on the street, and stopping for a few photos, we took a walk to the Ottawa guys' hotel, allegedly three blocks away. Make that extremely large values of three. Arislan eventually swung around to pick us up (since those guys were too lazy to walk and had fittingly decided to drive).


We had an evening snack at Factor's Famous Deli. It was 8pm, but it was ang evening snack regardless, since our actual dinner reservation wasn't until 10pm. Factor's served the typical deli fare; a few people had sandwiches or salads, the rest of us sat around and munched on the assortment of complimentary pickles. The sandwiches were mouthwatering, but the muffins they served were probably bought elsewhere.

It was just one of those days where you seemed to be constantly eating. Sticking food in your mouth and chewing and swallowing all so you can just do it again. The real dinner came later at Lucques on Melrose Ave for Asmodean's birthday. Reservations were made a day in advance, and that got our group of 12 a 10pm seating, which required a $20/person deposit. The decor was a subdued hip - white linens and modern furniture surrounding an exposed brick fireplace and chimney. At 10pm, the restaurant was in full swing, the tables were packed and we had to edge between seated diners to get to our table. The menu was simple, appetizers, entrees and a selection of sides. None of the mad five course menus you find at other posh places. A few people ordered appetizers but most of us just went for an entree.

The spring lamb itself was done well, it was cooked to medium for a tender yet still bouncy consistency. The peas and fava beans that garnished it seemed out of place, not adding much in flavour nor presentation. The soft-shell crab was deep fried, very similar to Japanese restaurants, with little to distinguish it. The crab's always good, but it would have been better served had it been drained - they're fatty enough on their own. Service however, was subpar in a few respects.

We returned to the Ottawa crew's hotel room to serve up the gag cake imported from San Francisco. The cake didn't quite make the trip intact. I thought it was from my poor driving in the long weekend traffic. In reality, when the trunk of the minivan was opened on our arrival to L.A., the cake had made a somersault from the top of the pile of luggage, off the rear bumper and onto the floor. It was in surprisingly good condition after the exercise.

The orignal plan for Sunday was to visit San Diego (maybe to visit the Zoo or the beach or Legoland. The weather report was rather cool for the beach, and neither of the other attractions seemed to make the 3hr drive worthwhile. It occured to me that we could go to Evergreen Baptist Church in the morning, but we were unprepared and didn't have directions. We ended up looking in the yellow pages, and ended up at Our Saviour Lutheran Church in Westchester, being the first place I could find the directions to. Three of us made our way to the ordinary little community church. Five minutes before the service, we got into the church despite the fact that it was almost empty. No celebrity pastors here, but it was certainly wasn't the usual. The congregation had about 20 very friendly seniors, the service was very orthodox, and on that particular Sunday, included a recitation of the Athanasian Creed. We stayed for donuts and recommendations to visit the Hollywood bowl before we left.

We joined the rest of the crew for a relaxed Sunday brunch basking on the patio of the Rose Cafe in Santa Monica, and spent the rest of the afternoon playing volleyball on Venice beach. A friend of my Dad's took me out for dinner in the Chinese neighborhood, Monterey Park, later that evening. First time I've had anything remotely Shanghainese since coming down to California. Dinner was followed with taro ice and red bean ice. We met up with the other guys again after dinner, and drove down Sunset Blvd. in search of nightlife. After passing by a couple of hiphop clubs with lines extending for hours and exorbitant covers. Somehow we ended up at some club near Sunset and Cahuenga (no one seems to have caught the name before entering), best described as goth, retro and new wave. Both the costumes and characters were colourful, to say the least.

Since we didn't have anything planned for Monday (other than the drive home), we lazed the morning away in Santa Monica, where buskers entertained in the avenue full of shops and restaurants, people crowded the midway on the pier, and the beach stretched forever in both directions. We had Thai for lunch, and simply strolled through Santa Monica taking in the sights and sounds of the beachfront. It was our last stop in L.A. as we picked up our cars from the parking complex and headed back onto the 405 to make our way home.

A week later I was skipping out on work early on Friday yet again. Instead of heading to the city, I was headed out to Yosemite National Park. After years of National Geographic articles and photos, I was finally going to see the park for myself. Somehow, that magazine made every locale exotic, whether it was a rainforest, a bustling city, or a farm in the Midwest. Road trips in California tend to be scenic, passing the sea, or rolling hills, mountains, desert, or even fields packed with cows.

This trip only had the four of us, so I drove my own car. The traffic was relatively light for a friday evening, probably because it was a long weekend just before. After stopping at In-n-Out for dinner in Merced, the sky was getting dark. The passengers busted out the notebook and popped in Ocean's 11. While they watched the flickering screen, I watched the flickering mountain top ahead of me, as blades of lightning lit up the night sky around the silhouette of the Sierra Nevada range.

It was 23:00 by the time we arrived at Curry Village in Yosemite. The tent cabins we reserved were made of heavy canvas draped around a wood frame. Although pretty secure against the elements, the tarp didn't do much to block out external noise. It's like sleeping with a hundred unseen campers. A cough here, a sneeze there, a creak of the bed. The dirt path crunches softly as someone walks past. Sounds of people getting up and about starting ringing through the camp by 5am.

By 9am everyone's ready to go. The sky was cloudy and the wind was cool. We head to the trailhead on our way up to Half Dome. The hike is 16.4 miles (roundtrip), ascending 4,796 vertical feet. We're already an hour behind our intended start time as we make a breakfast of Doritos, Nutri-grain bars and Gatorade. We started the trail, guessing at which peak the trail lead to. In late May, the rivers running through Yosemite are mostly in full swing, carrying down the winter melt. We passed Vernal Falls, and the higher up Nevada Falls, both roaring with icy white water.

Eventually the rocky trail smoothed out into a softer forest trail, and we covered most of the distance shaded by trees. We spotted a wolf, a deer, and numerous rodents and birds. Dark blue Steller's jays would occasionally appear and fly ahead of us. Toward the top, the trees thinned out as we approached the bald rock that was the summit. Two heavy cables were strung to assist hikers up the 45° incline up the final few hundred feet to the top.

By 16:00 we had all made it to the top, although it seemed as if everyone else had already left. The sun was peeking through some of the clouds as we spent a few minutes savouring the victory and the view at the total elevation of 8,836 ft. When we started heading down, it was clear the steep steps up to the summit had taken their toll. Our pace was slow despite the downward incline. Two of us had gone somewhat faster, and we stopped by Nevada falls and rested, watching the sun drift slowly towards the mountains, casting the rocks rising above the valley in an orange glow.


We hurried along after that, since no one had expected the hike to take so long - none of us carried a flashlight and the light was dimming fast. By 21:00 we were mostly traveling by the starlight that trickled in through the trees, and had split up into two pairs since we were going down at different paces. Behind us came a few lights swinging through the darkness, we waited as a large group of Hispanic hikers met up with us. They had spotted two people headed down the stock trail (as in, a trail for horses). I had hoped it wasn't the other two members of our group - they must have been further behind since the flashlights were actually pretty close behind us. We took a shot down the horse trail for a few minutes, but didn't find anyone. If anyone had actually headed down there they were going at a fast pace in the dark.

We returned to the fork, where two guys from the other hiking group volunteered to search the stock trail while the rest of us headed on to the bridge at Vernal falls. We waited in the dark, staring up into a deep blue sky specked with stars. Someone in the other group said a prayer in Spanish for our missing friends. The two guys returned in half an hour, they hadn't seen anyone on the trail. We continued slowly down the trail. By the time we got to the bottom and got a ride back to Curry Village, it was already 22:30.

If the lesson learned wasn't 'don't overestimate your group's pace', then it's 'park rangers will not come help you'. Throughout the evening I called the park ranger dispatch a number of times. It seemed her job was to pacify callers. We spent the next few hours trying to hike up the trails with a dying flashlight in hopes of finding them. We tried calling out, but any voices were simply drowned out by the river. Finally, the dispatch agreed to lend me a few fully charged flashlight, but the park rangers didn't come to deliver them till 01:30, by which time I was already exhausted. After assurances that they wouldn't suffer hypothermia in the wind, we resigned to parking by the trailhead and sleeping until morning broke.

We went back to Curry Village to call the park ranger at 5am before heading back up the trails. After searching the two mile loop from the trailhead to the end of the stock trail, we managed to find the two of them sitting satisfied in the Food Pavilion, after having survived the night in the wilderness, making it down sometime during the morning, and polishing off a buffet breakfast. After grabbing a Red Bull for the road, we made our way home.

The weekend after that I hiked Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 states and Hawaii, but I'll leave that story for another day.

More of the same
There's a lot of times I sit down and wonder, where have the past two weeks of my life gone? Sure most of it was at work, and much of it seemed pretty unproductive. Like the times you take a week to solve a problem, since you need the first four and a half days to get up to speed with things. I think that's why I'm in engineering, not theoretical physics - it's really nice to have something tangible done at the end of the day (even though software is often considered an intangible).

What else have I managed to do lately? The usual of dinners, movies, and going hiking with friends. It's amazing when I think about it, a year ago I was leaving Toronto for Delhi: I can never quite grasp the immense range of conditions that humans live in. I think given another year, that third world itch will really start itching. I've started reading through my Morocco Lonely Planet guide. I'm also looking to read Wolfram's A New Kind of Science. Also tried helping out with Santee Bible Club, a monthly day camp for lower class kids in South San Jose. Interesting as it was, I don't think I'm particularly adept at dealing with kids.

Off the beaten path

This past week my manager, an ex-gambling junkie, passed me a book, Poker Nation, by Andy Bellin. As the title suggests, it's a book about poker - the game, the culture, the lifestyle. It goes over the play - nicknames for hands (like the 'San Francisco busboy' - a Queen and 3 (a queen with a trey, get it?)), the strategies, the math and the psychology. But it also goes through the subculture. The life of professional gamblers, mathematical idiot savants, are romanticised as much as they are revealed - gambling addicts unable to maintain real lives (or relationships). The excitement of the game is actually reduced to mechanical boredom when the game becomes a profession. For anyone who's ever loved Rounders or even God of Gamblers, this book is a great read.

It's also the first book that I've read just for fun since I've gotten here. Maybe that suggests I'm pretty much all settled in. I've gotten to exploring the local community. About fifteen minutes drive away from where I live is Alviso, called a town but really just a languishing neighborhood drifting into oblivion. Alviso was once home to a lively marina and cannery. As the south bay filled up with silt over the past half century, both have closed down, leaving an abandonned marina, with empty piers reaching out into the rushes, and large saltwater marshes. Levees containing the salt ponds are still useable as biking (or in my case, hiking) trails. The area is now a protected habitat, the cannery has now become the San Francisco Bay Bird Observatory. Starting in the marina, I hiked about thre miles north. There, in the bay, was the town of Drawbridge.

Built at the start of the twentieth century, it's fallen into disuse, and now is closed to access. However, I made my way there along the Amtrak railway. Okay, so maybe I'm reliving the Stand By Me days I never had. And maybe a ghost town isn't half as exciting as a dead body, but the dive bombing seagulls and sandpipers sure were.


Ah, I can still hear their shrill cries as they swooped in from behind... (play Ride of the Valkyries) seeing their shadows flit across the ground as they dropped their payloads... watching with one close call after another, their ordinance crashing into the waves not five feet away with the signature ploink.
The horror... the horror...