Hey

So I helped Pegacide with a show last night. The band is comprised of 4 members, a synth/noise machine, a guitar, an electric violin, and a drummer. Today they had our friend Andrew Henry helping on the viola.

The show started with Joel killing the synth/noise. Really nuts intelligent stuff. Then the rest of the band came up, except the drummer.

The music built up pretty well and the drummer, who was my brother Tom, came out in a cardboard robot suite.

When the music sort of changed paced I came out of the crowd and grabbed a snare drum, a bass tom, and a ride cymbal and put them in front of the stage side by side. Then me and two of my friends got on our knee's and rocked out on these percussion instruments.

At one point I thought my arms were going to fall off from playing so hard and loud.

Eventually we stopped.

The whole set ended up being one big 35 minute song.

New Blog

Hey I have a new blog up for college students,

Check it out

www.christconnections.blogspot.com

Check out the first post to see how it operates

Thanks!

-john lake

Tears fell on your feet

Been a long time comin'

Hey im just posting on this blog because I want to do so more often...I have like a million blogs right now and this one I want to use for more personal reflection...not TOO personal, because that gets creepy...



Hey, so how about that guy Barak Obama? Im big on him and I have never been so involved in politics in all my life. I want ALL you guys to go do some dang research and vote the FACE off of Obama.



Obama '08 baby



I like his answer to Christianity and politics in the Yahoo Democrat Debate (Click on "Obama", then on "Bill Maher Grill")



I love anything he says on education, which is big for me.



I like his view on immigration, which seems to be a big deal right now.



And I just like his general optimism and enthusiasm. Goodness, I could write about him all day...but I wont. Not until he pays me or something...shoot.


I need Jesus, dang

Discontent

The following passage is from an article written by Heather Coaster. She is a missionary in Bolivia who attatches herself to woman whos intractable poverty has lead them into the sex industry. Read the full article here, and the website its found is awesome.


It’s such a convenient conversation. Sure, it strikes me. I read the staggering numbers, attach the unfathomable data to a story just to make it personal, and the somatic injustice rises up in my throat or turns in my stomach or threatens to keep me from sleep. There’s a reminder again that things are not the way they’re supposed to be, that all is not quite right. Iam bothered by a sense somewhere between restlessness and calling. So I write essays and maybe even checks and I think about writing a letter to my Senator. I read the book or pick up the latest New York Times Magazine. Over a drink I discuss the theological, social and economic roots and implications. I pride myself in being aware. I appease my social conscience, thinking that my conversations and benefit dinners are all contributing to some global solution.

And maybe they are. God, I pray they are.

And I keep eating. I even end in dessert. I close the book, put a The End on the story, toss it all aside, pull the sheets back and climb into bed. There’s not much more I can do, not tonight. And lucky for me, I don’t have to. I have the unfathomable luxury of walking away, of signing off, of saying good night. While my conversations are coming to very neat, concise closes, she’s tucking her kids in, putting her shoes on and taking the rest off. The red glow of her night is on and she’s tossed from one set of dirty hands to another. There are rules in place, rules against going without protection, rules against sexual violence. But once her door closed, the only rule is his desire. She only knows that tomorrow her kids will again be hungry, and this is the cost of her love for them. Yes, it matters today. It matters tonight, because there are still six hours until morning. And while we can afford those six hours, she cannot.

If all I have to offer her is conversation, awareness, words, then yes, I will give the rest of my life to the talk. But its not. It can’t be. It’s not all I have and it’s not enough.

The Moon and You

The moon and you appear to be

So near and yet so far from me

And here am I on a night in june

Reaching for the moon and you,




I wonder if well ever meet

My song of love is incomplete

Im just the words, looking for the tune

Reaching for the moon and you.


(instrumental interlude)


Im just the words, looking for the tune

Reaching for the moon and you.


-Ella Fitzgerald

-
The moon and you appear to be
-
So near and yet so far from me
-
And here am I on a night in june
-
Reaching for the moon and you,
-
-
-
-
I wonder if well ever meet
-
My song of love is incomplete
-
Im just the words, looking for the tune
-
Reaching for the moon and you.
-
-
(instrumental interlude)
-
-
Im just the words, looking for the tune
-
Reaching for the moon and you.
-
-
-

Im not ready for anything beautiful

Im not ready for anything beautiful

I looked around, the world today

Inside me I found nothing pleasing

I looked inside, the people today

Emptiness abound, nothing enticing

Not a thing enticing

Apathy is not the word for me

I care much for humanity

Yet apathy is not strange to me

Because I look at it in the mirror, perhaps daily

Yes I must look daily

I searched inside myself today

I was not pleased, so I released my past

I searched inside for myself today

I saw something false, so I took of the mask

I took off my mask

Now apathy is a form of reality

So I tighten my gloves, look at it straight

Apathy is somewhat like love, you see

You must fight it long, and win

Fight it long and win

I realized that hope was real today

I grasped the wind and held on strong

I realized I needed to hope today

I felt it come and lift me home

Let it come lift you home

Im not ready for anything beautiful

So that long dull drone

Beat something in my soul

That told me I was wrong

That told me I was wrong

I thought some things

That never really could fit in

I knew that I was wrong

I knew that I was wrong

And the last last time

That I took a look behind

I dropped dead, I don’t want to drop dead

I stopped looking, inside today

I let the one who formed belong

I opened up, and wider still

I stopped looking

He is beautiful

So I fight it long and win

Love

My Declaration

The logic is, that studying the material for a given course increases your chances of getting a good grade in the class, or in this case the final exam. The thing is that most students, including my most of the time, fail to study consistently throughout the school year, and end up frantically studying at the end of the year, to get a good grade on the final exam, which seems to always end up being a large proportion of your grade.

This leads me to believe that the school system wants us to frantically study at the end of the year, wants us to lose sleep and to be stressed, because it is as if the whole school braces and prepares for it, and the proportion the final exam is to the final grade seems to clearly reflect this idea. If this was not the case the proportion of the grade would not be so steep and the school faculty would treat these final days leading to finals more appropriately.

Hence, in an act of rebellion to the state of affairs of the common people here at Stony Brook University, in an single act of defiance, in a bold and daring move against the institutionalized robot students who fit mediocre molds of what society tells them to be, I, John Lake, am going to take a nap, fall asleep that is, and not study, not prepare for these final exams that you taunt me with, because you know what Stony Brook, im sleepy.

This place dislocates everything.





...not dreaming something she was supposed to be dreaming.





-Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

New studies are revealing impressive health benefits of coffee.

You thought coffee was bad for you? Actually, it seems to protect against all sorts of ills, from diabetes to liver cancer.

Coffeemanics, rejoice! The lively substance has now been given a clean bill of health by ... well, everyone...

Plenty of health benefits are brewing in America's beloved beverage.

Health Benefits of Coffee

Now you can fill your coffee cup each morning, guilt-free.

Study affirmed coffee's benefits for its high level of antioxidants.
Researchers from the University of Scranton released on August 29, 2005 that coffee is the No. 1 source of antioxidants in the American diet. Black tea is the second.

Me and You

Im a selfish, lazy, irresponsible, apathetic, unmotivated, regretful, cheating, free lancing, prideful, hating, judging, lying, scandalous, sly, devious, undisciplined, oblivious, greedy, immoral, boring, skittish, delinquent, careless, insensitive, inconsiderate, impatient, sluggish, rash, ignorant, foolish, wicked, lax, stupid, imprudent, and bratty swine.

Jesus is kind, patient, forgiving, passionate, peaceful, encouraging, teaching, helpful, reliable, faithful, powerful, wise, caring, loving, lovely, amazing, close, compassionate, merciful, good, truthful, understanding, gracious, sacrificial, pursuing, holy, moving, speaking, healing, life giving, unwearied, famous, strong, potent, intimate, extravagant, indescribable, uplifting, comforting, beautiful, undeniable, glorified, blessed, gracious, noble, liberating, sanctifying, worthy, the savior of my soul, and the son of God.

holla

Renewal

If I were not a Christian I would probably curse; a lot. I know this because I often say words like crap, and dang, and I say them for no good reasons, to be honest. I don’t know exactly why I don’t curse now, except the obvious reason that Jesus changes people, like really changes them.

But cursing is not an issue for me. Rarely even a thought, unless I have seen some movie that frequents the words. I guess it serves no purpose when your mind chooses not to operate in that manner. I can understand the uses of curse words if your mindset is built in a way that requires cursing to express how they feel. But I don’t believe its necessary, its chosen.

Our mindsets also seem so malleable, so young and naive, so easily influenced by media, by our friends, our families, our peers, or just the common culture. As much as we would like to think it, we are not islands, we are not individual fortresses, and we cannot live in this world alone. We need other people. We are constantly exchanging information; constantly communicating. We rub off on people and people rub off on us. Were all connected to some extent.

God is love. By his love, by Jesus’s death and resurrection we are able to die to our old nature, our nastiness, our corrupt and influenced minds, and come alive to the mind of Christ.

Jesus can transform our minds and our lives if we just ask and believe. Give him a little and you get a lot.

I encourage you, renew your mind.

Soledad, by Robert Hayden

(And I, I am no longer of that world)

Naked, he lies in the blinded room
chainsmoking, cradled by drugs, by jazz
as never by any lover's cradling flesh.

Miles Davis coolly blows for him:
O pena negra, sensual Flamenco blues;
the red clay foxfire voice of Lady Day

(lady of the pure black magnolias)
sobsings her sorrow and loss and fare you well,
dryweeps the pain his treacherous jailers

have released him from for a while.
His fears and his unfinished self
await him down in the anywhere streets.

He hides on the dark side of the moon,
takes refuge in a stained-glass cell,
flies to a clockless country of crystal.

Only the ghost of Lady Day knows where
he is. Only the music. And he swings
oh swings: beyond complete immortal now.


-Robert Hayden

Dreams move the wind

The moon

Sometimes looking up at the stars I get depressed.

They seem to be in such a sad state, shining yes, but never really finding themselves in the vast void of black.

Yet when I look to the moon I find hope for the stars, hope for man.

The moon seems to set the stars in place, every one of us.

All so appropriate.

It sets the standard of beauty while extracting beauty out of this myriad of lesser lights.

This lesser light.

The moon tells us calmly, don't worry; you don't have to be great, im already everything for you.

The moon.

Like a big blue lighthouse, like a teacher; a friend.

The moon.

The moon.

The moon,

and me.

Sometimes it takes a rainy day

Just to let you know

Everything's gonna be all right

All right

When you open up your life to the living

All things come spilling in on you

And you're flowing like a river

The changer and the changed

You've got to spill some over, over all

Filling up and spilling over

It's an endless waterfall

Filling up and spilling over, over all

Like the rain falling on the ground

Like the rain falling all around.

- Cris Williamson

Stop pretending

------------There is no room for pretending in the spiritual life. Unfortunately, in many religious circles, there exists an unwritten rule. Pretend. Act like God is in control when you don't believe he is. Give the impression everything is okay in your life when it's not. Pretend you believe when you doubt; hide your imperfections; maintain the image of a perfect marriage with healthy and well-adjusted children when your family is like any other normal dysfunctional family. And whatever you do, don't admit that you sin.

------------Practically, pretending is efficient, uncomplicated, and quick. Answering "Fine" to the question "How are you doing?" is much easier and quicker than saying "Not very well, thank you; my back is bothering me, my teenage children are disappointing me, I'm unhappy with my body, my husband never speaks to me, and I'm wondering if Christianity is true." Honesty requires a huge investment of time and energy from the person asking the ques ion. (who would the wish they'd never asked).

------------Pretending is the grease of modern nonrelationships. Pretending perpetuates the illusion of relationships by connecting us on the basis of who we aren't. People who pretend have pretend relationships. But being real is a synonym for messy spirituality, because when we are real, our messiness is there for everyone to see.

------------Some people would consider the use of words like messy spirituality rude and audacious. "How dare you suggest that people are messy? What are you proposing? Are you suggesting that sin is okay, that we should condone less than a 100 percent effort to serve God? You are too negative. Its not helpful to emphasize our flaws."

------------But the truth is, we are a mess. None of us is who we appear to be. We all have secrets. We all have issues. We all struggle from time to time. No one is perfect. Not one. (I have just paraphrased Romans The essence of messy spirituality is the refusal to pretend, to lie, or to allow others to believe we are something we are not. Unfortunately, people can handle the most difficult issues more easily than they can handle the lack of pretending.

------------When you and I stop pretending, we expose the pretending of everyone else. The bubble of the perfect Christian life is burst, and we all must face the reality of our brokenness.

-messy spirituality, by Michael Yaconelli

oooo boy that is FIRE !!!!

I would add that in the face of human brokenness we are given an amazing gift of love, Jesus Christ. Figure it out yall!!

Pc and God bless

jhnylake@yahoo.com

We’re going to Kentucky, we’re going to the fair,
To see the senioritas with flowers in their hair,
So shake it baby, shake it! Shake it up and down,
Shake it like a milkshake and shake it like a clown.
Rumble to the bottom, rumble to the top,
Turn around, turn around, turn around and stop!

This land

And this land screamed for centuries that we are bestial brutes; that the human pulse stops at the gates of the slave compound; that we are walking compost hideously promising tender cane and silky cotton and they would brand us with red-hot irons and we would sleep in our excrement and they would sell us on the town square and an ell of English cloth and salted meat from Ireland cost less than we did, and this land was calm, tranquil, repeating that the spirit of the Lord was in its acts.

-Aime Cesaire
Cahier d'un Retour au Pays Natal

why hello

Hey

This is just an update, I seem to have been slacking as far as this whole blog this goes.
I would love to say im going to blog more often from now on, I would love to make some great weekly commitment to this blog, but im not sure if thats going to happen for I know myself quite well.

I have been wondering though to what extent I actually know myself. I accept the fact that God, being my creator, knows me more then I know myself. I know that. He knows my crooked heart, he knows my devious ways, he knows my inmost being.

Looking at my actions and thoughts subjectively helps me understand the way I think. Almost like im my own lab patient or something, and I test my beliefs on myself. Not a bad thing at all, I don't think, its good to make sure your applying what you believe to yourself before telling it to others. Or else you are being a hypocrite I believe.

But in other ways I do not even attempt to know myself. I let other people make those judgments. Im not talking about in moral ways but more in outward ways, my appearance, my attitude, that sort of stuff.

I am huge proponent of being you.

There is some line from some song or a poem or some something that goes...

its all in the attitude
be who you want to be
express your
individuality

its sort of a bouncy and fast hip-hop poppy jam, maybe i just made this up in the shower or something, who knows...

But I certainly believe in being ones self. Discovering who that person is, discovering your loves, your passions, your interests, your talents, your beautiful uniqueness and not running from those things.

Im a big anti-conformity sort of person as well. I really marvel at my beautiful little brothers and sisters with all those piercings all over their face and other body parts...Some of those beautiful people have died hair. I like the people that wear women's clothing as well, I think that's quite brave. I admire that. I really do.

I saw this one guy who was wearing Uptowns (Nike 80$) and he had two plastic bags over each of them and was walking around campus like that. Because it was raining. I did not admire that. I really did not. That was sort of wack, I mean, come on man. There are better ways to get attention. I hope hes not reading this...

I like the boys who wear shirts that you can see their belly buttons, but their not gay. Thats crazy son... How do people do that? Its amazing...

Im sort of a "take back the gay look from gay people" kind of guy too. Like the rainbow thing, I like rainbows man, but im sort of upset that they have to represent homosexuality. I don't really have a issue with it, i just wish I could sport it with out being judged accordingly. Why cant they have like a purple and green theme? I think that's better...but im not here to tell you how do be gay. No sir. Not me.

Im also, believe it or not, a big "dont be so homophobic you idiot" sort of guy. I think a lot of times people have these uncomfortable feelings towards homosexuals, more so in men, because they are not confident of their own masculinity. I know that is true with many of my friends. Your not gay, the other guy is gay, why cant we all just be friends?

I guess it is sort of uncomfortable to be hit on by another guy...

Well perhaps I will get into that in a later post.

This one time I was in a coffee house called Javas and I was with my two close friends, JJ and Phil, and we are all straight kind of guys. We were talking to a big crowd of artsy, coffee drinking, philosophy addicted, radical, life changing, cool, cloudy kind of people. JJ was making these paper flowers out of news paper. I muts admit, they were pretty cool looking. He might of been showing off but they were pretty darn cool looking.

A friend of mine walked in and we said hello and she went to sit with her respected crowd of cool artsy, stylish, and loud friends. One of these loud friends from my friends table was obviously gay. You could tell my the remarks, and the hair, and the voice, you know, that gay thing was certianly going on. So my friend made this special newspaper flower just for him. Then he stepped right up to him and gave it to him.

It was a beautiful moment.

Gay people have wonderful smiles. JJ has a pretty nice smile as well. All these smiles.

Why can't we have more smiles?

I hope I don't judge them unrightfully, I am getting better in these sort of dealings.

Well

I should get going.

These opinions are not solidified and could change and improve and be denied and be argued and discussed at any moment in time. Im open for discussion and debate. Especially through this whole facebook message thing or email.

Aight much love my family

Thank you for reading

-j

Freestyle

ok...its freestyle poem time
I only have 3 minutes..so here I go..

A goose drawn figure, alone in literature
Mistaken for love so it took flight into the glow
Left her alone, quiet but not still
Unrest is not so pleasent

No shiny white Hosea arose I fear
To sweep a harlot of her feet
The gentle wind was taunting, a scream
Life was not that easy

The trees never left the side of her bed
The sea never looked so divinely inviting
Worlds collide in her inside
Tomorow is another wind



ACK that was 4 minutes, sorry guys...gotta run, pc!!!!

Crooked Heart

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

W.H. AUDEN, "As I Walked Out One Evening"

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression and exploitation of people
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them
And turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.



This poem is a Franciscan Benediction found in Phillip Yancey’s book Prayer. I read it and I start burning inside. My heart boils over as I experience a holy anger at the complacence in my own life and in the Christian community. There must be more. This can’t be it…

We seem to easily forget, but Jesus invites us all into uncomfortable places. He invites us into places of pain, suffering and anger. He invites us into frustration and He awakens our heart so that we may begin to feel what He feels for this world.

When this happens, we have a choice; to harden our hearts or to pursue Christ. We can either make it about us again, continuing to chug along with a meaningless self-centred existence, or we can turn off the TV, get off the couch, kick our apathy, and start trying to do something, anything, that will bring about change.

It is in these moments that the baggage that we hold so tightly to and our desires for fame and fortune fade into obscurity. All of a sudden our future, our time, our talents, must be used to make a difference in this world. In one sense we are ruined, on another we have never being more alive.

In the midst of this moment, Jesus calls us to have the courage to sit with doubt, questions, and disappointment, and to wrestle with what it really means to follow Him. I would strongly argue that Jesus is disgusted with how much of our energy is actually spent outworking Christian culture, which looks so different from the Jesus culture of the gospels. I believe that Jesus is disinterested in our culture, but incredibly passionate about our hearts. And when it is our hearts that count, it doesn’t matter what we look like, or how we act, because Jesus will accept us as we are, meaning we can throw off the masks, empty rituals and fluff that we so easily heap on our Christian subculture.

So I encourage you to re-read the benediction and to make it a prayer. A personal moment with you and God, where you invite Him to bless you with discomfort, anger, tears, and foolishness to believe you can make a difference. That is, not to build our own little empire, but to build the Kingdom of God. Not to build our fame, but to build His.

And be warned, it is a wonderfully dangerous prayer to pray.
-Sam Harvey