Question about SE Spiders

Do search engines crawl and index blog comments?

I can't find any documentation regarding this issue, despite literally seconds of "research" (one Google search). Do you know?

Oooh! Oooh! Pick me! Pick me!

If I were a criminal, say, a burglar or a mugger, I think I'd have very specific criteria for selecting my victims. It wouldn't have to be a long list, probably just something like this:

1. Foolish, if not downright dumb
2. Unarmed

But, gee...nothing's every that simple. I mean, where in the world would you ever find a list of people meeting those criteria?

Well, as reported here, this might be a good starting place.

Coming soon: Join our exclusive "Vacationer's Club" and get a free yard sign reading "Out of Town for 2 Weeks."

"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

This cartoon appeared in yesterday's paper:

I'm sure that your first reaction upon reading this is the same as mine: "Chiasmus!" And then, "I want to know more!"

Well, podnuh, I'm here to help. Just take a lingering stroll through chiasmus.com and you'll come away with more linguistic sophistication than you ever thought possible. Or, at the very least, a new appreciation for quotes such as this:

Flash Intros: Heaven-Sent, or Satan's Spawn?

One of the continuing debates in the world of web design and online advertising is the use of Flash intro pages on websites. Most usability folks advise against them, for a variety of reasons, while many web designers (and ad agencies) advocate them for their clients.

Someone has decided to conduct a widespread survey to assess the general websurfing public's opinion about this issue...and you're invited to participate!

It's easy. Just visit this website and complete the simple form. It takes only about two minutes and you don't provide any personal data (other than gender and age range).

The results will be tabulated and published by the MarketingSherpa group in an upcoming online newsletter, and I'll pass them along to you as soon as I get them.

Feel free to pass this URL on to anyone who might have an opinion, especially if they are not in advertising or web design. And if you want to go on record as being for or agin', please leave a comment here.

Fun with Stereotypes

The house next door has finally sold, after sitting vacant for a couple of months. That means new neighbors, which is always an exciting prospect. The time between the posting of the "sold" sign and the arrival of the moving van is a great opportunity to wonder about the newcomers.

Will they be pit bull-raising, devil-worshipping, Democrat (pardon the redundancy) environmentalists with a set of two-year old triplets? Or will they be, you know, weird? Will they play Yanni music non-stop through their patio speakers? Or, will they finally be the neighbors who manage to get their lawn mower started more than once every six weeks?

The speculation is exciting. I can't wait to see what they drive, for then I will know everything there is to know about them. Yes, one's vehicular choice provides true insight into the very soul.

Just kidding, of course. I learned years ago to be very careful about making snap judgments based on initial encounters. For example, about ten years ago, a new couple arrived in our Sunday School class. She was a little, um, frumpy in that immediate post-child-bearing period that women despise; I knew that because they were accompanied by a sleeping two week old baby, undoubtedly just the latest in a long string of rugrats, given their ages (sames as ours, that is). He was equally, um, frumpy, probably from lack of sleep. Neither smiled too much and they came across as upper-lower-class citizens who made an honest but frugal living on his security guard salary.

Well, as it turned out, the missus was actually "Dr." (psychiatry) who had a degree in music, and a classically-trained voice. The husband was a crack petroleum engineer and electronics whiz who drove a BMW, and attended seminary. Both are gifted Bible teachers. The baby was their first. And they both turned into good friends. I've never shared my first impression with them, as I've been embarrassed about it for a decade. However, as I said, I learned a valuable lesson.

Therefore, my new neighbors have nothing to fear from my preconceived notions, as I probably won't have one. Unless, of course, the movers unload a series of Apple Computing boxes, in which case I'll know that the neighborhood has just been upgraded in every important way.

Movies as Spiritual Vehicles

Jared over at Mysterium Tremendum takes exception (as I knew he would) with my observations regarding the movie reviews I found on the website of a church located in San Francisco.

Jared has forgotten more about movies than I'll ever know, and writes eloquently about them, as well as about matters of spirituality. Regardless of which side of the issue you find yourself on, his comments are worth reading. (Doesn't make him right, but that's beside the point. ;-)

I don't think I can add anything to this discussion; dropping a match in the gasoline and running like crazy is what I do best. But I would like to apologize to the particular church in question if I gave the impression that I was dismissing its overall effectiveness because of this relatively minor issue. The issue itself can generate some interesting discussion about the role of Christians in society and culture, but it's certainly not a bellwether for a church's legitimacy.

Stumped for gift-giving ideas?

I had intended to resume posting about "serious" subjects (like my just-ended vacation, for example), but can't seem to get focused because of distractions like this: the Texas Lottery Commission's new ad campaign attempting to convince us that scratch-off tickets are at the top of all our friends' and family's Christmas wish lists.

Really, now. Is anyone falling for this? Would you wrap up a sheath of lottery tickets and put under the tree for your favorite aunt? (OK, I'll admit that there's probably a certain democat for which this behavior is not only acceptable but encouraged...but blog-reading is likely not part of its repertoire.) I lost my enchantment with brightly colored cardboard around age three, when I realized that what was inside the box was really better than the box itself.

Here's a tip for anyone leaning in this direction. Start buying those tickets and scratching them. Find a winner -- and wrap that one as a gift for Cousin Buell.

No? I thought not.

Back in the house...

Like most of our "vacations," the past six days will require significant recuperation time! But, I hope to post a report, replete with photos, soon.

Did you know that it takes 23,600 steps to hike from the parking lot at the base to the highest point in the state of Texas and back?

Hiatus

Postings will be non-existent for the rest of this week, due to other priorities.

In the meantime, I commend to your attention the fine offerings of bloggage indicated by the links on the right side of this window. The proprietors will greatly appreciate your patronage, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest expectations.

As an added bonus, visit this site to see some truly amazing demonstrations of Flash/Javascript/DHTML. [Link courtesy of Simon Willison]

San Francisco is different from Midland

Have you ever seen this before? A church website that provides movies reviews is a little out of the mainstream, in my experience anyway.

I'm not sure what to make of it. The list of films reviewed is, in itself, somewhat perplexing: "Hannibal," "Frailty," "X-Men 2," "Changing Lanes," "The Fight Club." Each review seeks to find some spiritual relevance or truth, as if to validate the theory that even films that appear to have no socially redeeming value can, in fact, tell us something about ourselves, and in doing so, help us learn more about God. Here's an example from the "Hannibal" review:

I can't argue with the theological correctness of this statement. The thing is, I don't have to watch a movie to find that truth, because it's pretty clearly spelled out in Scripture. It's a pretty sad commentary on our society when we start looking for our spiritual anchors in purely cultural media, but it's tragic when the church gives credence to the practice, if only implicitly.

I don't mean to judge this church's doctrine based on this section of their website. For all I know, they're right down the line on all the important stuff. Still, this is just a little too "in the world" for me.

[Link found indirectly via What In Tarnation? For an interesting exchange between the pastor of Kaleo Fellowship and a dissatisfied visitor to his church, read the linked post.]

Jessica's Well Hits It Big!

Jessica's Well, that other Midland blog (OK, OK... they were here first) has garnered some national attention for this post, and an interesting one it is. The post was referenced yesterday on Fox News Sunday. Even better for this groupblog (because we know the real reason we blog, don't we?), the onslaught of incoming links jumped JW about 400 places in the Ecosystem.

Way to go, Natalie! Oh...yeah...and the rest of you guys, too.

Open Road Race Results: Iron-poor

Midland's inaugural John Foster West Texas Open Road Race is history, as about 60 participants from across the nation (and at least one soul from the UK) sped to Rankin and back yesterday. And I feel quite unsatisfied after seeing accounts of the event in the local paper and TV news coverage.

As you would expect, the Reporter-Telegram had the most thorough race results, showing the top three finishers in each of the 16 classes. That report gave no times or average speeds, but most disappointing was its failure to tell us what the winners were driving.

Now, an open road race is different from, say, a Nascar or even a Formula 1 road race, where drivers compete against other drivers. In those races, the vehicles aren't real...that is, they don't bear enough resemblance to the family sedan to make them mentally accessible to the average spectator. But in an open road race, the competition is against the clock -- success depends on coming as close as possible to averaging the speed set for your competition class; only the bad boys in the Unlimited class get to truly put pedal to the metal* without regard to the clock -- and the machines at least began life on a dealer's lot.

I didn't watch the race -- I have other priorities on Sunday mornings -- but I was fascinated by the vehicles I spotted around town over the weekend, distinguished by the race numbers they bore. There were a plethora of Corvettes, a sprinkling of Vipers, several Beemer coupes and a goodly number of Camaros (the quantitative indicators are highly technical terms easily interpreted by the cognoscenti). These choices are not surprising, and knowing this might have been enough to satisfy my curiosity about the machines. But then I read this photo caption in the newspaper, and I realized that there was probably quite a bit more to the event than we were seeing in the news coverage:

A 1962 Dodge Polara?! A 200-mph Polara, no less. And they placed second in the unlimited class, behind a guy from Alpine, Texas. He could have been driving a '58 Ford Fairlane for all we know.

I hope next time, we'll get a little more detail about the cars themselves. Surely the coverage will mature with the event.

Note: I did discover via Google that the event has its own website. As of this morning, there were no race results posted. (This leads to a pet peeve: why are website URLs so often missing in our local media coverage of events? I smell another post.)

*Someone really needs to come up with a new cliché for speeding. "Fuel 'til you drool"? "Gas to the mass"? "Speed 'til you bleed"? OK; let's see if you can do any better.

Church Report: Challenge and Encouragement

We've attended two funerals since we last were in our home church for worship and Bible study -- and that was in the space of less than a week. So, we weren't sure how it would feel to be back among our "extended family," emotions still being a little raw, if you know what I mean.

We had a guest speaker in the morning worship services. Dr. Jeff Iorg is the Executive Director of the Northwest Baptist Convention, Vancouver, Washington. The northwest area of the US is one of special emphasis for Southern Baptists, given its rapid population growth and the fact that most of that population is unchurched. Our church partners with several "Pioneer Churches" in that area, and has sent mission teams on many occasions to provide hands-on assistance.

I was operating a TV camera during the service so I didn't catch a lot of the content in Dr. Iorg's message, but one thing he said did slip past the director's instructions and lodge in my mind. "Most people think about being called to the ministry in terms of having to go somewhere else, geographically," he said. "But, that geographic 'call' is really just an echo. We're all called to minister to people...that's our primary call. It's just that some - but not all - of us are called to minister to people who live somewhere else." I like that metaphor: an echo of the primary call.

This message is a challenge to people like me who tend to think of ministry (especially missions-related) as something that takes place somewhere else, by special people who can do and say all the things I can't. (Or, more accurately, the things I've managed to convinced myself that I can't do.)

[On an interesting blogging sidenote, I believe that Coqui, who blogs via Far Too Easily Satisfied works for either the Northwest Baptist Association or one of its sister organizations. I recommend her blog; she's an excellent photographer, and has more than her share of good subject matter within camera reach. I need to email her and see what her relationship might be to the Association.]

Walking down the long hall to our Sunday School department (it's at least 100 yards from the worship center!), I asked my wife if she felt up to what she was about to experience. She said she thought she was. It's a good thing; we were stopped five times going down the hall by people wanting to express condolences. Then, on into the room filled with our fellow Bible study group members where the "love-bombing" became even more intense...and special. Many in that room had been through what we just experienced, some only a few months earlier. There's a special kind of empathy/sadness/joy that Christians share with one another during these times. "We'll meet again" is not just an idle empty expression when referring to a deceased loved one, when we know that person was born again. We were reminded once more that the family of God is every bit as special as our earthly family.

We capped things off with a one-Sunday study of the little New Testament book of Philemon, an oft-overlooked letter from Paul to a friend (Philemon) whose slave (Onesimus) had run away and met up with Paul while he (Paul) was imprisoned in Rome. Paul led the slave to salvation in Jesus Christ, and was now asking his friend to take Onesimus back, both as slave and as a fellow brother in Christ.

Our group had one of the best discussions about this situation that I can recall. The apparent simplicity of the one-chapter book is misleading; there are many undercurrents and sub-plots and themes: forgiveness and redemption are main theological issues, but you can also spend time on the sociological and cultural issue of slavery, as it was practiced in the first century, and the apparent spiritual authority of Paul is ripe for discussion. If you haven't read Philemon in a while, take a few minutes and re-visit it. (And try to put yourself in the sandals of Onesimus as he heads back to his master's house. We aren't told how the situation finally played out.)

In the end, we left church both challenged and encouraged. That's not a bad way to start a new week, is it?

Bush Ladies

Just caught the NBC Dateline episode featuring Barbara Bush. What a classy lady.

Think what you will about Dubya and his dad, their politics and performance in office, it's hard to dispute that their wives -- Laura and Barbara -- are the epitome of what an American "First Lady" should be.

Barbara said that she has never considered the legacy that she will leave, aside from her children and grandchildren. I believe her legacy is already sealed, and she will be pleased. And I believe the same will apply to Laura.

Irony (or, "With friends like that...")

I took advantage of the lovely weather to wash my wife's car this afternoon. As a result, I was wearing my Teva sandals when we later took Abbye for her evening constitution.

About halfway around the park, while standing on the sidewalk waiting for the dog to complete her necessary inspection of every blade of grass in an area of particular dogly attraction, I felt a slight itch on my big toe, under the sandal strap. In a few seconds, however, that itch turned into an exquisitely sharp pain.

I bent down and peeled back the strap to expose the culprit. You guessed it...it was a fire ant chewing industriously on my toe, determined to make me pay for apparently violating the colony's personal space.

I named this humble publication after the tiny fire ant out of a grudging admiration for some of its characteristics, chiefly tenacity and the ability to impact its surroundings in a measure far out of proportion to its tiny size. You can't really wipe out a fire ant colony; the best you can hope for is to irritate them enough to make them move into your neighbor's yard.

OTOH, they can also be vicious, vindictive, nasty little buggers and I felt no remorse in sending this particular representative straight to the bowels of fire ant hell.

Snake Eats Tail

I just finished a bike ride, the fifth this week, making an even 100 miles of cycling since Monday. That's a rare achievement for me, but the nice weather combined with a realization that such good riding opportunities are coming to an end gave me added motivation to get pedaling.

Unfortunately, many of those miles were ridden while suffering through that most inexplicable of self-inflicted maladies: the continual mental looping of a specific song. It's one thing for that song to be something uplifting, like, for example, the chorus to Handel's "Messiah." Or, perhaps, a song that engages the mind in pursuit of its true meaning, like Richard Harris' "MacArthur Park." But such was not my happy fate. No, the lyrics and melody that has inhabited my thoughts during the past 60 miles of cycling is that paean to modern American honky-tonk culture, that theme song of the rednek version of "Sesame Street," none other than Travis Tritt's version of "T-R-O-U-B-L-E."

I have only about 10 country albums; it's not like I'm lousy with 'em. I've got one each from Garth Brooks, George Strait, Alan Jackson (the album with the flawless "She's Got the Rhythym and I've Got the Blues") and Chris LeDoux (the rodeo cowboy-turned-musician whose "Best Of" album is the one I'd pick for a desert isle shipwreck experience); two by Brooks & Dunn (I know; and I'm sorry). I've got the Country-Salutes-The-Eagles compilation CD (which proves that good material will always shine through). Oh, and I've got Ronnie Milsap, Willie and Jerry Jeff on vinyl. But that's it. So why would Travis be infesting my neurons like a teeming mess of audio cooties?

Jared over at Mysterium Tremendum blogs about the creative process that empowers his writing, and asks others about their "brain grease." Bicycling is mine. Once I'm out of the city limits and can go on autopilot (more or less), my mind is freed to run down rabbit trails that I fail to notice at other times. I've often found the solution to a tricky layout problem while riding, or had a design inspiration to end a creative block that had bugged me for days. I've composed complete posts in my mind while cycling (although they rarely seem as good in pixels as they do in my thoughts...does that happen to you, too?).

Scientists tell us that physical exertion releases chemicals -- endorphins -- that can stimulate the brain, and enhance creativity. I don't know if there's really a physiological explanation for what I experience while riding. I tend to think it's more a matter of getting into a different environment, with different sensory inputs that jolt the mind out of its "in the office" rut. I think that's why many people (myself included) often go someplace like $tarbucks to do some work, especially when wrestling with a creative cul-de-sac. The mind suddenly becomes more alert, on guard, ready to roll. Amazing things are then birthed.

Then again, sometimes they aren't.

Why I Read Lileks - Reason #328

I don't have James Lileks in my blogroll. I figure he doesn't need the link to affirm his near universal appeal. But the real reason is that I have his site included in a series of links in my Personal Toolbar Folder (a Netscapian feature for you IE'ers), in a group of tabs labeled "Daily," and I click that icon every morning after bootup. If I could build a link to him directly into my OS, I'd do that. (Note to Apple: Let it be written; let it be done.)

Why do I find his writing irresistible? Gems like this one, from today's column that touches tangentially on the importance of the copydesk in a newspaper's hierarchy (while managing to emphatically whack with a velvet hammer a Left Coast paper who's lost track of this element of journalistic integrity):

Only a writer imbued with equal parts of confidence and humility would serve up such a paragraph. His confidence allows him to perceive the truth; his humility allows him to admit that he is not above it.

Mozilla News

The Mozilla team has launched a beta version of their new website, presumably to give visitors a chance to preview and comment on it before it goes live. Interesting approach. And a nice new layout, too.

They've also released Mozilla 1.5, in beta form. I'd try to summarize the new features in this release, but the link to the release notes yields a 404. Maybe it'll be working by the time you read this, but it's not the most propitious beginning, is it?

Regardless, these guys continue to do good things on the browser front, and I'm greatly mystified why anyone would continue to use Internet Explorer -- slow, buggy, non-secure, bloated, feature-short Internet Explorer -- when a Mozilla derivative is available for the choosing. (Oh, I retract that statement; I know a lot of reasons for not switching, and a few of them are even legitimate.)

Having said that, I confess that my browser of choice continues to be Netscape 7.02, which shares the Gecko engine with Mozilla. But I have installed Mozilla, and occasionally switch to it as the mood strikes me.

I'm also planning to download and install Firebird and Camino on my laptop. These are alternative Mozilla browsers for OS X (Firebird also works with Linux and Windows).

[Link courtesy of Stopdesign]

Understatement of the Day

Today's edition of the Wall Street Journal (subscription required) carries a story about Steve Bartman, the Chicago Cubs fan who seemed to prevent the Cubs outfielder from catching a foul ball in game 6 of the series with the Florida Marlins.

As we all know by now, Bartman is being targeted by Chicago "fans" as the scapegoat for the Cubs' immediate collapse into inadequacy. The WSJ comes to his defense...sort of (emphasis mine):

"Some of the blame..."?! You think?

[Those Cub "fans" who continue to insist that the officially innocuous action of a fan during one play of a seven-game series is the cause of their team's downfall deserve another 100 years of futility.

OTOH, if the team will step up, admit their own and sole culpability, and stand publicly by Mr. Bartman (as Moises Alou has now done), then they just might deserve that World Series berth...next year.]

Update (10/18): It appears that, as usual, adults can learn a thing or two about sportsmanship from the kids.

Bard of the Llano Estacado

Burr Williams is the best writer in west Texas, period. There, I've said it, and I aim to stand by it.

Burr masquerades by day as the mild-mannered director of the Sibley Nature Center here in Midland, an organization devoted to documenting and preserving the ecology of the southern Llano Estacado, and to the education of its human inhabitants about its importance. In this role, he is merely the single most knowledgeable person I've ever met when it comes to the flora and fauna which surround us (and which we generally take for granted).

But he's much more than that. He's a insatiable wanderer, a lover of caliche roads leading who-knows-where, a keen observer of the details of nature that the rest of us miss in our headlong rush to irrelevancy. He's a history-sponge, soaking up details of the strange and esoteric. He's a sucker for funny-looking flowers that bloom for only one month and grow only in one acre of one section of one county. He hears in the nuanced howl of a coyote on a cold winter's night the undertones that we desk-jockeys can't perceive, let alone interpret.

Is he the Edward Abbey of west Texas? He'd probably scoff at the notion. But he obviously shares Abbey's love for the desert, if not his obsession with the solitude that often accompanies it.

What has brought on this outpouring of praise? Why, this column in today's MRT, in which Burr fashions a lovely web from the disjointed strands that are Elvis, Buddy Holly, Bob Wills and others. If you like music, history, west Texas or good writing...read it.

[Boy, do I ever miss listening to KOMA-AM, lying on top of a sleeping bag in my backyard at 2:00 a.m., staring up at a billion stars, and wondering if Leslie Gore could ever fall for a guy from Fort Stockton.]

Thrashing About in the World of Sports

• Can You Make A Living Doing That? — I see where Anna Kournikova, having fully proven the validity of "The Peter Principle" in the world of tennis, is contemplating giving up the sport in order to pursue mediocrity in the fields of acting and TV announcing.
  
  Her ATP competitors were unanimous in their expressions of disappointment over her planned departure. One player, wishing to remain anonymous, had this to say: "Anna will be sorely missed. She was always good for advancement to one more round."



• Is There A Plastic Surgeon In The House? — So...a Cubs fan robs Moises of an inning-ending foul ball, and the Cubbies revert to type, blowing a three run lead and probably losing their shot at The Series. Setting aside the fact that the team still gave up eight runs in one inning — can you really blame that on one foul ball? — you have to feel sorry for the poor fan.
  
  In Tikrit, Saddam Hussein, wishing to remain anonymous, was overheard to say, "Boy, I'd hate to be in that guy's shoes!"



• Life's Hard, and Then You Die — That lovable scamp, Tampa Bay defensive lineman Warren Sapp, has just picked up a big fine for "mistreating officials."
  
  One official, wishing to remain anonymous, explained the situation: "I'm pretty sure he's the meanie that also took my binkie."
Posted by Eric at 11:08 AM | Permalink

Yeah, that'd work...

Yesterday's mail delivery included the new edition of "Reader's Digest" (slogan: "Validating Attention Deficients For...Wait, Was That A Hummingbird?"). One of the headlines on the cover read "The New Pill That Can End Aging."

I overhead MLB mumble, almost to herself, "what is it...cyanide?"

Praising the Many-Layered Golden Orb

One of the more important developments of the 20th century, ranking right up there with steel-belted radials and cordless drills, is the Texas 1015 sweet onion. This miracle of modern horticulture was developed in the early 80s by Dr. Leonard Pike at Texas A&M, and is now the "Official State Vegetable" of Texas.

Sweet onions are generally yellow and have high levels of water and low levels of pyruvic acid (the chemical that causes tears and a strong odor). There are a number of varieties of sweet onions, some more well known than others, thanks to hyperprotective regulators (think "Vidalia," for example). But, interestingly, each and every one of those varieties can trace its lineage back to Texas sweet onions. Sorry, Georgia.

"OK," you're thinking, "that's all somewhat interesting...but so what?" Well, take a look at today's date: October 15. 10/15. 1015. Yep...1015 onions take their name (so the story goes) from the fact that today is the ideal date for planting them.

So, what are you waiting for? Get out there and plant some onions. Your burger will thank you next spring!

Beware of Comment Spam

Those of you who are bloggers have no doubt been introduced to the latest incarnation of spam, that being the dreck left in posts apparently selected at random. I'm still unsure of how this is being accomplished, but that's neither here nor there. What I am increasingly concerned about is something that's a tad more insidious.

One day last week, one of my older posts attracted two comments, both to the effect of "nice site you have here" or something equally innocuous and irrelevant. Uh, OK. It's not that unusual to get comments that are innocuous and irrelevant. But, then I took a look at the URLs left by the commenters. They were obviously links to a pørn site, an assumption that I didn't bother to confirm (really!), but any URL that combines the terms "ú_ndéråge" and "gírl_s" is pretty much a slam dunk.

We shouldn't be surprised by this development, which is simply another underhanded strategy of the pørn industry for getting people to visit their sites. But this one is particularly tricky given the normal inclination of bloggers for curiosity about their visitors, especially those who take the time to leave comments.

And, by the way, this technique underscores the importance of doing something I've championed for a while now: making your comment window resizable. One of the benefits of being able to resize that window is the ability to quickly see the entire URL left by the commenter. URLs can be contracted into illegibility by the small default comment window size (in Movable Type, anyway). The resizable comment window will make you better able to screen those URLs before clicking.

Oh, and learn to use the IP banning feature!

Update: I've just learned that Jay Allen has created a free MT plugin called MT-Blacklist which is designed to help combat comment spam. [Link courtesy of Outside the Beltway.]

Another Church Bus Tragedy

This is a real tragedy, and a devastating blow to the small west Texas ranching community of Eldorado. All 15 of the injured or dead are apparently from First Baptist Church, Eldorado.

This accident has an unfortunate local connection, as well. Two of the injured are parents of our friends and fellow church members here in Midland. Please pray for a speedy and quick recovery for Billy Frank and Mabel Blaylock.

Tender Mercies

We've returned to our home, and are attempting to re-establish a routine after an emotional week. I have a long list of things that need immediate attention, and blogging isn't at the top, but I must take some time to express our deep appreciation for your expressions of sympathy and love. Your comments, emails, phone calls, visits, flowers, cards, food and more ministered to our family in ways that only those who have undergone similar losses can understand. Your desire to help has challenged me to be more diligent in providing that kind of care to others.

May God richly bless you and your families for your ministry to our family, and may your tender mercies be multiplied and returned to you. You are, indeed, special.

Death observed, embraced, conquered

I watched my mother-in-law die this morning. Her labored breathing -- "chain breathing," I believe the charge nurse called it -- grew quieter, slower, more shallow, and at 6:15 a.m., 12 days shy of her 85th birthday, she finally won her decades-old battle to gain release from a body that always seemed more enemy than friend.

I know of no one who suffered more through the decades than her. She survived cancer -- twice. She underwent open heart surgery and two angioplasties and at least three heart attacks (that we know of). She had three hip replacements. She had arthritis and osteoporosis. In the end, a ridiculous fractured pelvis cause complications that her poor heart couldn't cope with. Her body was, indeed, a battlefield, with the scarred landscape to prove it.

In the 35 years I knew her, I never heard her utter a single word in expression of bitterness or resentment at her situation. Anger? Perhaps a touch, but it was always a tool for overcoming obstacles, instead of surrendering to them. Her usual demeanor was one of humility, grace and humor, and people around her went away feeling uplifted, even if they came to her with the intention of lifting her up.

We miss her, of course...terribly. But none of us would wish to draw her back from where she is now. In the hours before she passed, moving in and out of lucidity, she spoke of climbing out of the bed, getting in her car, grabbing a hamburger and just...going.

I imagine her arriving at the gates of heaven in a large-finned Caddy, one strong healthy arm draped out the window, and empty Burger King bag at her side. She's gotten her wish...she got to leave, and her destination is more wonderful than anything we can ever imagine.

Lil, we'll join you someday; keep the motor running, sweet lady. And I call dibs on shotgun.

Your Last Meal...?

When, as a mere lad, I began reading science fiction, one of the short stories that stayed in my memory was about a man on death row who made a deal with the devil. The details are a bit hazy -- for example, I can't recall exactly what the devil was going to get out of the deal; the usual "soul exchange" doesn't seem applicable for reasons you'll soon see -- but the gist of the bargain was something like this. In exchange for...something...the inmate would be granted the ability to eat his last meal...forever.

The concept was genius, in my mind. The state owed you a last meal, and they couldn't fry you before you finished it, right? Well, what if you never finished it? What if you just kept eating and eating and... you get the picture.

The twist of the story was that the inmate was a little, um, unimaginative, and when he placed the order for his last meal, he doomed himself to eating plate after plate after plate, ad infinitum, of beans.

Yes, they just don't write 'em like that anymore.

But last meals continue to be the objects of fascination. The TDCJ recognizes this, the evidence being this website: Final Meal Requests. (Update: This web page was removed subsequent to the publishing of this post.) This rather unique website documents the final meal requests of death row inmates dating back to 1982. It provides the complete menu of the request (with the cryptic note, "The final meal requested may not reflect the actual final meal served") as well as convenient links to offender information, where you can learn the details of the inmate's life, including the reason(s) he (or she) was on death row. Some of this falls into the "too much information" category for me.

But, the meal requests themselves can be fascinating. Some of them are amazing cholesterolic exercises ("what's it gonna do, kill me?"), like this one:

Others are Zen-like in their simplicity and obscurity: "Cool Whip and cherries," for example, or "1 jar of dill pickles," or this one that presumably prompted the official caveat noted above: "Justice, Equality, World Peace." A number of inmates had no requests.

One has to wonder why the TDCJ feels the need to memorialize this aspect of these folks' lives. I suppose the public appetite is voracious when it comes to such matters.

But, if nothing else, it does cause one's mind to drift to the question at hand: what would you request for your last meal?

<burp>

Southern Baptists and Abortion

Jared over at The Thinklings has an interesting post in which the lead sentence reads thusly:

He goes on to cite a resolution passed by the Convention in the early 70s, as pointed out by Touchstone Magazine.

I did a little research via the website of the SBC, where the full text of resolutions dating back to 1845 (!) are made available in a searchable database. (This is, by the way, a wonderful resource for anyone interested in the often turbulent history of the Southern Baptist Convention.)

I found the resolutions referred to above...several of them, in fact: June, 1974; ; June, 1977; June, 1978; and June, 1979. What was interesting to me was that none of these resolutions supported abortion on demand, and none of them referred to Roe v. Wade.

Now, as a staunch pro-lifer, I take little comfort in this fact, as the language that was used in the 1971 resolution (and affirmed in the following resolutions listed above) stated:

This language left open a pretty wide door for abortion advocates...but it still stopped short of "abortion on demand." And, in fact, the subsequent resolutions generally were explicitly opposed to the use of abortion as a means of birth control ("...selfish non-therapeutic reasons...").

However, beginning in 1980 -- 23 years ago -- the tone and tenor of the resolutions changed significantly. This is from the June, 1980 resolution:

Note the resolution itself: proposing the passage of an anti-abortion constitutional amendment, albeit with the caveat of "saving the life of the mother."

Ever since 1980, subsequent SBC resolutions have affirmed or tightened (in a pro-life direction) this statement. The last such resolution, in June, 2003 brought the matter to closure, in effect formalizing what most (OK...that is legitimately subject to debate on a global basis, but it applies to everyone I know) Southern Baptists already presumed and hoped their denomination's stance to be.

I know there is room to debate who was to blame for any perceived or real non-Biblical stances on this issue, way back when. I find such debate to be boring and unproductive. The key point to me is that it's been a long time since our denomination evidenced even the slightest pro-abortion leanings. And I'd be very interested in the vote tallies for those resolutions. Couldn't find that in the website records, however.

UPDATE: I failed to point out that I found the link to The Thinklings' post on Bryan's Clarity Amidst Chaos. Permalinks aren't working, probably, so scroll down to "This rocked my world on a Sunday morning."

Life's Challenges

I was looking forward to setting aside some time for blogging, but life has intervened. My wife's mother has been re-admitted to the hospital -- she's still having problems with the fractured pelvis -- but this time she's in Fort Stockton, so we're going to make a quick trip down there. We have responsibilities at church on Sunday morning, so it will be a quick trip.

I think we (including the patient herself) had some unrealistic expectations about how quickly the healing process would go, given the dramatic improvement during her last few days in the rehab center. We overlooked the fact that the quality of drugs, if nothing else, is much better when you're under 24/7 medical supervision. Nowadays, there's just no reason for someone to have to live in constant pain...but addressing that situation may require you to be somewhere else besides the comfort of your own home. Such is the apparent case here.

Anyway, I'll be offline for another day or two. I'm reading "It's Not About The Bike," Lance Armstrong's account of his amazing battle with cancer, and I may return with all sorts of things to share about that...in addition to the exciting times to be found in the Pecos County seat. (I'll leave you to ponder this mystery: why is Pecos, Texas, not the county seat of Pecos County, Texas? What were they thinking?)

Back in Business

Our webhost had a server crash sometime last night, and it did some really weird things. Sites housed on the server could still be accessed via browser, but FTP access was unavailable. In addition, the link to the mySQL database that forms the foundation for the Gazette was broken, preventing any maintenance or updates.

Thankfully, our host was on the ball and identified and solved these problems very quickly. If you're looking for a good webhost, you'll be hard pressed to find one that's more client-responsive than ValueTech, Inc.