Bloody Words, The Video

You never know where a blog idea may come from. For instance this one came about from reading a verse in Proverbs, the same week I watched X Men III, The Final Conflict. Bloody Words, The Video, to the best of my knowledge does not exist. Rather it is my concept for the video, that this entry is more or less about.

We'll start with the verse in Proverbs and this will all start to make more sense as I go along.

Proverbs 12:6 The words of the wicked lie in wait for blood, But the mouth of the upright will deliver them. NAS

It was the first part—the words of the wicked lie in wait for blood—that caught my attention. It got me thinking about the whole idea of how words can be used as weapons. Think of some of the terms used to describe the use of words: low blow, cut like a knife, that really stung, and I'm sure plenty more that I'm simply blanking on right now. The point is, they are all associated with the idea of physical pain or violence. In James 3:8 it refers to the tongue as a restless evil and full of deadly poison.

Which brings us to the X Men influence and the idea for the video, which gives a visual that I hope might be helpful. In the movie, Jean Gray's mutant power allowed her to do essentially anything with her mind, which included inflicting wound after wound on Wolverine, who, with his mutant power of self repair, promptly healed himself of each wound until he was able to save the world (a very simplified description of the scene). So it was this visual image, recently burned into my brain, accompanied with the verse in Proverbs, that brought me to Bloody Words, The Video.

The video would start with a little girl standing in front of the camera, when a male voice (intended to be her father) starts yelling at her "your stupid" "I can't believe you did that" things of that sort and through the use of special effects, a physical wound (most likely something along the lines of being cut with a knife) is inflicted on the girl with each thing that is yelled—bloody words. It's not something that would be easy to watch even without the wounds, but with them, it would be that much harder and therefore, as I see it, that much more effective in driving home the idea of just how wounding words can be. Other scenes could be: a husband yelling at his wife, a wife making cutting remarks to her husband, a boss to his employee, kids picking on another kid, people gossiping about someone, all with the same result of physical wounds being inflicted. Less blatant and yet potentially just as damaging things like sarcasm or the very self centered, I-care-more-about-me-than-you, parental phrase "you know what you do reflects on me" should also be included.

Then follow all that up with people (I think it should be the same voices as did the wounding) saying loving positive things and with each thing said, a wound heals. But the mouth of the upright will deliver them.

James 3:10 puts it like this: from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.

With words we have the power to wound and to heal. It's our choice. How easy it is to go on wounding when the scars are inside and we don't immediately see the damage. Imagine if when we started in on one of our kids, with the first wrong thing said, we saw a cut appear on their cheek and blood started flowing down their face . . . would we continue? I don't think so. I think it would stop us dead in our tracks and bring us to our knees in tear filled repentance.

Bloody Words: a strong visual image that just might help us think twice before we wound again.

Additional Thoughts

I posted this blog last night and after listening to a Living On the Edge podcast this morning, I wanted to add some additional thoughts.

The title of the broadcast was How to Overcome Hypocrisy in Your Heart - Part 1* and while there where a number of things that tied into the theme of the blog, what stood out for me was Luke 6:45.

The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks. NIV

If we have blood dripping from our mouths on a regular basis, we need to ask ourselves "where are those bloody words coming from, where is my heart at?" Maybe we need to be praying "Lord my mouth is speaking blood, I need Spirit filling, help me to be yielded to the Spirit so the fruit that overflows from my heart is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, self control, and not bloody words".


PS To both of my loyal blog readers that I know about, and any others that might be out there, you may have noticed this is my second post in one month. . . don't get used to it.

Filled Smiles

This entry came about from a song in church this morning. It was the first song of the service (yes I was there in time for the first song, thanks to some Holy Spirit conviction delivered via a Chip Ingram Living On the Edge podcast) and was a fairly typical, contemporary, not very theologically deep, worship song, (don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to bash those types of songs, I have a playlist full of them on my ipod) when a line came up that caught my attention:

When we laugh fill our smiles with You.

My first thought was "huh. . . what is that supposed to mean" and seeing as I was now fully distracted from singing the song, I thought about it and I don't know if I came up with what the writer intended it to mean (I later found out it's the song Our Love is Loud by the David Crowder band) I did come up with my idea of what it could mean.

The gist of it is the question: what do we smile at or what do we laugh at? In other words: what's the motivation behind our smile or laugh?

There are a lot of things in our society, media in particular, that people laugh at, that—from a Biblical or Christian world view perspective—we should not be laughing at. From sexually explicit "humor" to the Don Rickles extreme-put-down, make-fun-of-others, sort of "humor" (much of which I've laughed at) television, movies, and the rest of it, is full of stuff that is meant to be funny. However, at the time we are smiling or laughing at any of it, it is very safe to say that are smiles are not filled with—as the song puts it—You.

There a couple of quotes related to this that I like and were in fact what set me on this line of thinking in the first place. There are two from Joshua Harris's book Not Even a Hint (about sexual purity) and one from a John Piper Sermon. Even though they are very similar, I include all three.

Jesus Christ died to rescue me from darkness and sin. How can I willingly immerse myself in that darkness for the sake of entertainment? What a tragedy it is that I’ve sat idly by during movies and television shows and watched the very sin for which Christ had to die being laughed about, even celebrated.

Joshua Harris “Not Even A Hint” p124,125

Why would I want to gain enjoyment or soak my mind in the sins that Jesus had to shed His blood to free us from?

Joshua Harris “Not Even A Hint” p125

My parents almost never went to movies and I almost never go to movies. The reason is very simple: there are almost no movies that don't ask me to be entertained by attitudes, motives, and actions which Jesus died to eradicate.

John Piper


Strong but very true words. I really could have just posted the intro, the quotes, said Amen and been done.

So where does that leave us? Does that really mean we shouldn't watch Seinfeld reruns? I'll leave that up to you, however, speaking as one who has watched a lot of Seinfeld reruns (I really don't watch TV at home but when I'm in Branson for three months with cable and time. . .) let's just say that some of my other options could have been: reading one of the many books I brought with, video chatting with my wife without trying to read the closed captioning at the same time, going to bed, and dare I say it—praying. Which is to say, when I stand before my Maker someday and am asked to give account for the time I spent watching Seinfeld reruns in Branson, MO . . . I got nothing.

Watch little kids at play. More often than not, their smiles and laughter have a You filled, innocent wonder, excitement, and joy of living, that we don't tend to show enough of in our adult lives. It's worth trying to cultivate more of that, as well as being more aware of when our smiles have a less than wholesome filling.

When we laugh let our smiles be filled with You.

A fluffy, meaningless line from a feel-good worship song? You be the judge. As for me, I say no.

Of Pogo Sticks and Reading Glasses - Thoughts on aging

I recently bought in the same week two Pogo Sticks and a pair of reading glasses. I am 44 and, to most people, considered to old for pogo sticks and (admittedly to lesser degree) possibly to young for reading glasses.

Since I juggle for a living, use a pogo stick in my show, and bought both of them trying to find one that collapses small enough to fit in my prop box, the pogo stick purchases don't seem all that unusual. However, one of them was purchased at ebay's United Kingdom site and cost $132 ($110 of that for shipping) and is advertised as being able to get 6' of air, thus giving me visions of being the man to take extreme pogo sticking mainstream. One small bounce for a teenager, one giant leap for a middle aged man who needs reading glasses.

One might consider this a desperate and potentially stupid attempt at trying to relive ones youth, aka, a mid life crises. If you can't afford the sports car, go for the coolest pogo stick you can find. (By the way you can spend up to $500 on a pogo stick, without going out of the country, so I think I showed great restraint.) Honestly, I think for me, it's the same thing it's always been: I like showing off physical skills that I can do better than other people, the more skills the better, and the current skill du-jour is pogo sticking. Besides, I need to exercise and stay in shape for my job anyway, so why not have a little fun and excitement in the process. If the day comes where I hurt myself pogo sticking (referred to as "sticking it to your self") then I'll have to reconsider using it beyond my little trick in the show and be content with aggressive inline skating. One has to adjust as necessary.

The reading glasses cost a dollar and while not as cool as my sunglasses, ($10 at a scratch and dent sale) they do look better on me than my wife's spare pair. I don't actually need them for reading per se, but have used them for looking at a map, pulling out slivers, or doing close up work for more than a few minutes, such as sewing or certain household repairs. Which is simply to say, I am getting older and my body is reflecting that.

I'll confess, I wasn't completely sure where I was going with this entry when I started it but the juxtaposition of the two items purchased seemed to have so much potential, I couldn't pass it up.
As I have started writing this and thinking more about it, two lines of thought have emerged in my head.

1. The Pogo Stick: Old dogs can learn new tricks.

They may not be quite as exciting or impressive but they can be learned. I bought my first pogo stick when I was 40. I enjoy it; learning tricks on it is a challenge, but it rarely goes more than a foot off the ground (the new one may change that and I will need to be careful). On the other hand, when I was a kid, I would jump off the roof onto the front yard. Last winter I learned to jump on our trampoline on my mountain bike. It's a very soft landing; low impact bike jumping. When I was a kid, I set up a jump that progressively got bigger and bigger and never had a soft landing. My point is, we (those over 40?) can still enjoy and have challenges (for the moment I'm talking physical) doing things that might not be considered appropriate for our age, not out of some desperate attempt at recapturing our youth, but simply for the joy of learning something new and having a fun way to get exercise. And of course mentally, there's always new things to learn and ways to challenge your self. My wife has started taking piano lessons again after not playing since childhood. My stepfather is learning about particle physics. We've all heard of authors who didn't start writing until there sixties. The possibilities are endless: learn a new language, a musical instrument, tap dancing, the history of Bulgaria, if you've lived long enough, you probably have some things to say, write a blog.

2. The Reading Glasses: We age, it happens, get over it.

There is no question that we live in a culture that tends to celebrate youth and make fun of aging. From the jokes made about peoples age, to the "funny" cards and black balloons used on milestone birthdays (40-50-etc.) reverence for age is no longer a given in our culture. I can hear the arguments: "It's just for fun" "Nobody really means it." Why make a big deal out of it." A couple of reasons.

First, I would argue that it's just these sorts-of-things that have contributed greatly to the lack of respect that is too often shown to older people (whatever that means) in our society. If youth (whatever that means) constantly see age as the butt of jokes, or black ballooned birthday parties for 50 year olds—with the implication being that it's all down hill and your almost dead—it's no wonder they don't show the respect and honor that age deserves.

Second, age in the Bible is always looked upon with reverence, as something to be honored and associated with wisdom. So—and I don't think I'm making to big a leap here—if God says we shouldn't make fun of aging, then we probably shouldn't. How about a birthday party where someone is truly honored, with cards that reflect that, and decorations that reflect that, and people tell their kids about what this person has meant in their lives and so teach what it means to honor and show reverence for our elders.

In conclusion, I guess the main point of this whole entry is. . .

I don't want black balloons or cards that joke about my age when I turn 50. However, if you all want to pool together and get me one of those $500 pogo sticks, that would rock.

Proverbs 16:31 Grey hair is a crown of splendor. . .

Real Men Buy Pads

"Pads" . . . yes, just as you feared, I am in fact referring to feminine hygiene.

This entry came about when, after I used the phrase "real me buy pads", my sister-in-law double-dog dared me to write a blog with that as the topic. So, my dear Elizabeth, this one is your fault.

I have no idea how many husbands are actually willing to buy those-sorts-of-things for their wives, I've read no statistics, done no online research (for fear I might actually find some), I've taken no informal pole myself, but this I do know, there are many men who draw the line when it comes to purchasing what-they-would-rather-not-purchase. In fact, In Miss Congeniality II, there is a scene in which Sandra Bullock and friends escape from the male FBI agents watching them, when they were unwilling to go purchase her request, with one of the agents making the comment "I wont even buy those for my wife". And as I see it, if it's in a movie, it's in the culture.

With that said, I would now like to make my argument for the title of this blog and to all my suffering sisters out there who just feel to crummy to want to get up and go to the store, this one's for you.

Husbands, to you, the single most important person on the planet should be your wife. And it is when our wives feel and know that to be true, that we are truly doing our jobs properly. And I ask you, is going to the store and picking up something that maybe a little uncomfortable for you to buy, to much to ask for the most important person in the world? I don't think so.

The Bible calls us to live with our wives in an understanding way (1 Peter 3:7 NASB) and it's when we graciously, patiently, and with genuine, loving, concern, go through those few days each month, that we show some of that understanding and help her to feel, even in this time of physical and emotional upheaval, that she is in fact the most important person in the world to us.

There is much more that could be said about this, from God's mandate in the Bible to love our wives, to not being secure enough in our masculinity, however, I will keep this brief and leave you with one last argument.

Think of it in terms of Knights of old, a supreme act of chivalry in our modern culture. Our wife is in pain and discomfort and the last thing she wants to do is get up and go to the store—a damsel in distress—you—her knight in shinning armor—jump on your noble steed/SUV, uncomplainedly go to the store, pick up her things, bring them back, and rescue her in her hour of need. The chivalrous act of a modern day knight.


So men, next time your wife asks you to go to the store and pick up that uncomfortable-little-item, say "Yes honey, I'll be right back" jump in your car, head to your local Walmart, and if you run into one of your friends there and he asks "Whatcha you up to" stick out your chest, lift up your chin, and say confidently. . .

"I'm picking up a pack of Always Overnight Maxi Pads with Wings for my wife, because that's what a man does!"

Juggling in a small town - Reminiscing on the 4th

As I record my thoughts for this post I am currently driving to my brother's from a July 4th gig in Maynard, MN.

I started the day at my brothers where they're having a day long, 4th-of -July, family gathering. Feeling a bit sorry for myself, that I would spend most of the day driving to and from my juggling gig, I hit the road.

Dont get me wrong, I was very thankful to have the work. It's just that I don't like missing out on extended family gatherings and with a 4 hour one way drive, I would miss most of it. With the exception of trying a new breakfast item at McDonalds, it was an uneventful four hour trip.

What greeted me upon arriving in Maynard: was a heartwarming example of an American small town, 4th-of-July, celebration. It started with a late morning parade down main street - in which I personally did not partake - and then moved to a park on the edge of town for a community wide picnic. They sold plates full of food, with proceeds going to support the Maynard fire department.

The park itself was an idilic setting, with an unusually sturdy stage and a suprising amount of shade. Maynard is a town of around 200 to 300, and yet this event will annually draw upwards of 400, with the best surprise of the day being, that when it was time for me, most of them were sitting waiting for my show. I've performed at a lot of small town summer events and county fairs over the years and all to often I'm up against the kiddie tractor pull-or worse yet-greased pig competitions, and have a hard time competing against them for an audience. Consequently this was a nice change.

Right before my performance, there was a flag raising ceremony put on by some boy scouts, with one of the scouts leading the whole crowd in the pledge. It was very moving and getting a little choked-up, I was unable to get all the words out. While there is certainly nothing wrong with that, it's not real helpful right before going on stage. However, the man in charge made his attempt at an introduction, the moment was gone, and I was good to go.

I did my show, packed up my stuff, and took off. As I was leaving there was something else happening on stage, with more activities planned late into the afternoon, and I'm sure, many people lingering and fellowshipping together long after the official events had ended.

As I drive back to my brother's, looking forward to some 4th-of-July celebrating with my family, and reminisce on the day so far, two thoughts come to mind . . .

First, thank you Maynard for showing me the quintessential, small town, 4th-of-July celebration. And secondly, is a strong, soul filling, sense of thankfulness: thankful that a sence of community that strong still exists in our country, thankful for the freedoms that we have and all that the 4th-of-July stands for, and thankful that I live in country where I can go do what I did today, to earn a living.

So to close this entry and to sum it all up: nothing seems more fitting than the doxology.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above the heavenly host
Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost
AMEN

Golf As A Sport

I know, I know, what are you talking about, golf already is a sport. Then why do they always refer to is as a the "game" of golf? Besides, I'm speaking for those of us who believe that if you don't go aerobic, it doesn't qualify as a sport.

Just so we're clear, I do play on occasion and I do enjoy the game. I also appreciate the physical skill involved, especially when played at the professional level. However, I always find my self wanting to jog to the ball (completly doable with one of those two wheeled carts) and in general just move the game along faster. Yesterday after playing with my father-in-law, I had the idea.

Timed golf!

That's right—fastest time wins!

You stagger the starts like in bicycle time trials (maybe while the player ahead is teeing off at the second hole the next player starts) and the players run to their ball pushing their bag on of those little two wheeled carts.Then at the end of the round you add or take away time depending on the player's score. One minute taken off the player's time for each number under par (5 under take 5 minutes off) and one minute added for each number over par. In order to swing at their best, the pros would have the added dimension of having to learn how to lower their heart rates in just a few seconds like the biatheletes do when they're coming into the shooting stations.

In addition to making golf more physical and intersesting to watch, it would also create a market for a whole new line of products: running golf shoes, lite weight bags and carts, high performance wheels on the carts, and I'm sure there's a lot more that I haven't thought of.

Golf courses could have specific times when Golf Running is available and easily run more people through than normal, therefore, making more money.

Everybody wins!

I can see it now. . . a Kenyon who's crossed over into golf, runs up to the last green, sinks a 15 footer for birdie and becomes the first person ever to win both the Boston Marathon and the US Open, while on the side lines, an aging Tiger Woods simply shakes his head and sighs.

I'll try and get back to more meaningful content on the next post.

Rain Boots and Romance

A few weeks ago, I bought my first pair of rain boots. To be perfectly honest, it's entirely likely that I had some rain boots as a child, however if I did, I have no specific memories associated with them. So at the ripe old age of 43, I purchased my first rain boots. Understand, I don't have a muddy stall where we keep horses, a yard that puddles up after a good rain, or a swamp that I need to wade in to fish out the occasional soccer ball. So why the boots?

Romance!

No, Robin (my wife) doesn't like taking long walks in the rain. That's not the type of romance I'm talking about. I'm talking about the romancing of the heart — or hearts to be more precise — of my children. How do rain boots fit into all of this? There in lies the tale.

For the last couple of months, I've been working my way through an excellent book entitled Romancing Your Child's Heart by Monte Swan. He uses the idea of romance to describe how we should be working to win our children's hearts to ourselves and to God — also, that there is a rival vying for our children's affections.

"We are not the only ones who want to win our children's hearts. We have a rival, a suitor with sinister designs—the villain of our fairytale. His name is Satan." page 81

The author came upon this idea of "Romance" while looking into his own upbringing and trying to figure out — in raising himself and his brothers — just what it was his own parents had done so successfully.

". . . when the world began to woo me, my mother and father chose to fight for my heart—not by building a wall around me, but by out-romancing the competition." page 13

Romancing Your Child's Heart is one of those books that should be issued with the birth of a child and does a wonderful, thought-provoking job: of encouraging, challenging, and equipping parents in the fight for their children's hearts.

I know, what happened to the rain boots? We'll get back there I promise.

One of the avenues of romance is through a child's sense of wonder, and more specifically, how it relates to creation and the worship of God.

"Wonder is only a heartbeat away from worship. It is the natural reaction to belief in God . . . We honor him when we live gladly in a state of wonder because of His works . . ." page 215

Job 37:14 Stand still and consider the wondrous works of God.

Isaiah 40:26 Lift up your eyes on high, and see who has created these things.

"Clearly, God's creation is far more that just a pretty backdrop to life." page 21

I feel the same way and want to do what I can to help my children have a wonder and joy about God's creation.

"When children wonder at the world around them, they maybe the closest of all people to comprehending the reality of God." page 217

With all this in my head, it occurred to me that none of us had rain boots and simply weren't prepared to play out in the rain, or go exploring in the nearby creeks, which, after having just read the book, seemed like a worthwhile thing to do. So, with two children in tow, we headed to our local Wal-Mart and booted up.

I told you we'd get back.

With boots in hand (so to speak) we headed to the water fall at our local nature center. It's about nine feet high, five feet wide and unless there's been a hard rain or spring thaw, the water runs over only about a foot of that five feet.

Before we move any further, I to want bring up another idea from the book. The whole point of our outing was to have some fun, build relationship, and enjoy a small portion of God's glorious creation. In a word: romance. Simple right? Well, In any romantic adventure, we have to be careful not to let our idea of what the adventure should be, get in the way of the enjoyment that our children will have naturally. In other words, we shouldn't let our "mission" take precedent over the child's "mission" or lack there of.

"Instead of relating to Dawson—which was why I had taken him fishing in the first place!—I was having a relationship with a mission." page 94

We broke our boots in by wading around below the falls and then moved up to the top where the real fun began. We had brought with a couple of Polly Pocket dolls which were snugly wrapped in bandana and placed in an empty peanut butter jar (plastic). That's right — over the falls. We fired up our best imaginations, and we sent Polly and her friend over the raging Niagara . . . they lived. After that we explored the stream up a ways, down a ways, and threw sticks in the pond on the other side of the road; all the while Polly and her friend having various assorted adventures, unwilling thrust upon them.

During all this, I simply tried to follow, directing only when it seemed appropriate. Kids know what they're doing; our job at a time like this is to simply join in the fun. When children play they are truly unselfconscious — forgetting about self — and we do our best romancing when we are engaged at that same level.

"Our primary role is to participate in a childlike way, by engaging our own five senses, and our hearts, in a shared, uncomplicated experience." page 220

Sara Groves has a song entitled I Can't Wait about all the things she's going to teach her baby boy as he grows up, and more importantly: what she is going to learn from him. The chorus is:

And you'll teach me of hearts and dreams
And all the most important things
And all that I have lost upon the way
And I can't wait

It's wonderful song and so true. We become so self-conscious and "grown-up" that we end up looking at our little ones and (as the song asks) wonder:

How do you sleep so peacefully?
How do trust unflinchingly?
How do you love so faithfully?
How do you dance so joyfully?

Good questions, and nothing like some rain-boots and heart romancing to build a relationship were we can get close enough to find out.


Other good quotes from the book:

"Unconditional love, grace, and their faith in me quenched any rebellion before it arose in my heart" page 13

"Children have emotional "tanks" that need to be filled. . . . But if we don't fill their tanks, they will eventually get them filled somewhere else, and possibly respond to another—a false—romance." page 131

". . . we must step down from the self-importance of our adult world in order to communicate and connect with our children." page 147 (gives me an idea for a future topic — well see)

"Can a parent—particularly a father—afford the luxury of a childlike heart? A better question is, can we afford not to be childlike, if we want to romance our children's hearts?" page 163

I would also be interested in any books you think qualify for "should be issued with the birth of a child" status and why.

Everybody is doing it...

Dems do it, geeks do it,
Even my brother and niece do it.
Let's post an entry, let's start a blog.

So with the addition of my brother and niece to just about everybody else out there, I decided it was time for me to join the fray and post some entries of my own... let the blogging begin.

For my first entry, I'm simply going to talk about how I came to the point, like so many before me, of actually signing up for my very own little corner of cyber space, dedicated solely to me and whatever it is I would like to say. (A very different proposition from my website, which is strictly a business tool.)

As I write this, I am starting to come to the full realization of the enormous pressure and magnitude of the endeavor that I have undertaken. After all, once this is posted, theoretically, just about anybody in the world could conceivably read this. (Although, if I can just get my mom and a few relatives to take a look, I'd be happy.) News commentators have blogs, famous writers have blogs, people who think long and hard about important issues and then come up with important things to say have blogs, Bono has a blog, so who am I to think I should have a blog.

It all started with an email from my brother informing us (his family) that he had joined the Kingdom of Blog, and that his daughter, had not only become a citizen herself, but had in fact arrived a day before him. I clicked the link in his email, making the first fateful move, and was reading his entries, followed immediately by my nieces entry. I was impressed, I was moved, I thought, but most importantly, I left a comment. At the bottom of each entry is a link you can click to view and leave comments, I clicked, I typed out my comment, I clicked to submit my comment and it said I must become a member, and sign up for my own blog space in order to leave my comment. Fine! I spent all that time writing my comment, I wasn't going to let it go to waste. I signed up, I left my comment, I got blogged.

By default I have a blog. Now what? I could just leave it there hanging in cyber space waiting endlessly for content, meaningful or otherwise, or I could use this as an exercise in creativity and actually write something. I have decided on the latter, although there are those who might suggest that if I'm bothering to write something, how about a little new material for the show.

So here I sit, writing my first entry and wondering if in future entries I'll have anything to say. I'm not involved in politics, world problems, or any of the "really big" issues, I don't even watch American Idol (there's got to be hundreds of Blogs on that topic alone). I'm just your average American variety entertainer trying to be a good and loving husband, and an encouraging loving father, that does the right thing...

On second thought, I guess I am involved in really important issues, and who knows, I just might have something worth saying after all.


PS In the interest of full discolsure I don't actually know if Bono has a blog, but it does seem likely.

Also, my blog is set up so that you may leave a comment without being required to sign-up.