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Reading Log 7.11.2026






I have said it before and will say it again and again and again. Hobbes’ Leviathan is absolute must-read material. I am rarely more invigorated while reading than when reading Hobbes. I exhort you, brethren, find a copy and make time for it. You will not be disappointed.
A former professor from the seminary reminded me recently that as an alumni, I had access to an online theological library. So I tracked it down and joined, $10 a month. Around the same time as joining, the same professor told me his recommendation for a commentary set for a church—meaning lay people. I had asked his opinion because I wanted to start a library at the church I joined. His recommendation was the NIV Application Commentary, which uses three approaches to each passage and never or rarely mentions any original language issues in a manner that requires training to understand. The three approaches are, “Original Meaning”, “Bridging Contexts”, and “Contemporary Significance”. Anyhow, I do have training in the original languages and I hate reading anything about the Bible in which the author has made the decision for me, preferring instead to read authors who lay out the evidence from which to choose what to think for myself. That’s where the Anchor Bible Commentary set comes in to play. I am certain there are other solid academic commentaries, but Anchor is kind of the gold standard. By way of example, the NIVAC’s 1 Peter volume might include, “Peter wrote…” and the Anchor Bible might write, “The author of 1 Peter wrote…” I prefer to approach the Bible Indiana Jones-style. (Recall—there are no priests!)
Boring details of my life, I know, but while all this was happening, I had started to get anxious about the issue of accuracy in the digital realm. Specifically, I had seen a few examples of how streaming services are latently airing edited versions of beloved entertainment. Long story short, I determined that I did not want to ever be distracted by worry about whether the content I was reading on a screen was original or edited, so I started tracking down a used set of the Anchor Bible commentary volumes. And I found and bought one (not quite complete). Then, lo and behold, I got an email announcing that the online theological library was ending its availability to alumni—at least as accessed outside of a proper library. No real reasons were given, but I was very thankful and felt very wise in my decision to begin to purchase the actual books for my home library.
All that to say this: I have for many years struggled in my attempt to a good habit of daily Bible study. As I have mentioned, I always start with the Bible if I have time to read. But I never loved my plan of just reading it and I also have never enjoyed using a devotional which were always so clearly superficial and kitsch so as to distract me from the intent of Bible study. Around the time of all this purchasing and subscription-cancelling etc. I had been in Ezra and Nehemiah, so I, one day, decided to see what ol’ Anchor said about them. And, boy, was I ignorant. It’s actually fascinating to me how much I had never known. This was part of the reason I began to read them recently anyhow. (Yay me.) Anyhow, the main thing to share here is that 1 and 2 Chronicles and Ezra and Nehemiah are all contemporary to each other. And the date of writing may be as late 150BC (don’t quote me on the date). Also, Haggai and Zechariah are the prophets of that same time. So what’s that? Like 6 books, spread from after 2 Kings to the end of the OT, in the Christian canon’s arrangement. I had known the Jewish canon concluded with (1&) 2 Chronicles, but I hadn’t ever studied the other four books, or committed to memory anything about their dates at the least. I did know that Nehemiah is where the tradition of standing during scripture reading gets it start.
All that said, I am happy to report that I have my new way of daily Bible study. I just read a passage and its “comment”. I have even been able to interest my wife in listening to it as I try to rid believers, one at a time, of the notion that one can gain understanding of the Bible by praying. It just doesn’t work like that.
Onward.
Netflix made a Frankenstein movie. I couldn’t finish it. But then I watched Bride!, as you know. I mentioned this at work to a reader and she asked me if I had read the book. I had not. So here we are. I haven’t researched it entirely, but I get the sense that Shelley (married to the famous writer Percy Bysshe Shelley, and daughter herself to very famous writers) really did invent the “monster” story, which pervades all manner of entertainment to this day. Quickly, I do want to note here that Frankenstein is the name of the creator, not the monster. And, imho, the book itself isn’t that good. But the idea is—obviously. The idea being, what if the creature you bring to life is a devil, not an angel?
Farmer Boy was fun. My main criticism is that a city kid of today really and truly cannot use much of the information which is transmitted and which was conceivably useful to farmers back in the day.
GW continues to be great. He is now President, not exactly by choice. Also interestingly, the state of politics in America back then was so startlingly similar to today, that a new idea has formed in me. This idea being that while everyone who wishes America well can appreciate the “fighter” in Trump, the truth is that we really need a leader who knows how to gain respect of everyone. That is who George Washington was. People were as vehemently opposed in their desires, motivations, and methods as we are today. But when a decision was needed, they all agreed GW was the man for the job. How did he do it? Moral living and pure motivations. How can such a man be formed and found? Imho, by studying GW. And by providence’s intervention.
I can’t explain it, but any time I spend away from Shakespeare causes me to forget how great he is. Luckily, he is so abundantly great that merely reading a line or two is all that I need to fall back in love with him. What a writer. What stories.
Merchant of Venice is in the Great Books of the Western World’s Great Ideas Program guided reading on the topic of “Philosophy of Law and Jurisprudence.” This is because the character agrees to forfeit “a pound of flesh” if he can’t pay back his debt. To generalize this contract, the question Shakespeare raises is, “Can a person use the law to bind himself to commit an unlawful act?” The largest perspective being, “What is the name of the thing which prevents a person from freely entering into a lawful contract which has as one result unlawfulness? If the thing is ‘law’ itself, then where does it get its power, since a man freely made the contract? Doesn’t law come from man?”
In any case, Shakespeare toys with the language and big ideas as if they were nothing. And it is a whole lot of fun to read.
That’s all for today.
“Friday was good. Saturday was good.” – A Short Story.
Whatever similarity the following short story has to a real conversation last night, a conversation between a husband and wife, I assure the reader that the account is one sided and therefore pure fiction—at least according to all the women.
Our south facing bedroom was dark and remained so despite the sounds of a few belated fireworks which our extraordinarily wealthy and patriotic neighbors to the north were letting fly. I had just plugged my phone in and put it in its final resting place on the nightstand. I remained on my side, facing out, my back to my wife. I had a good amount of covers to work with and couldn’t help but release a final chuckle-turned-outright-laugh at The Office blooper short we had just watched.
Friday was good. Saturday was good. Today had been alright.
There was a pleasant mood for those two days as my wife, bless her heart, had not had a chance in hell to work and so was herself at ease and agreeable for once. She seemed to have truly come to peace with the fact that the great serpent of old, the one with the red, scaly appearance and bifurcated tongue, seemed to genuinely not be her husband. Can you understand what I am trying to say, reader? Married life felt kind of normal.
I decided to test the waters and say something true. I knew it was a risk, but I was feeling risky.
“J- seems to actually need a few days to warm up to me every week that I am home. It’s like he becomes softer as the days go by,” I said. Truth be told, halfway through my brief report, I started to wonder if she was even awake anymore.
“I don’t understand, Baliye,” she replied.
I suppose I ought to clarify here that Baliye is her heathen tongue’s ‘my husband’.
“I’m saying,” I started again, “that I can feel that J-, while happy to see me when I first come back home from my week away, seems to take a few days before he fully relaxes and becomes himself. It’s hard to pick exact behavior differences, but I feel it,” I continued. I didn’t share the one instance that was on my mind, the at church earlier when I had pulled him back from the center aisle into the pew. I sat him next to me again and looked down at him, placing my stern, glaring but sparkly-eyed face right over his. He looked up at me and purposely bonked his nose into mine. He does that sometimes. But not on day one, two, or three. Anyhow, I continued, “And the other week, when I was making a trip to load the car before leaving, he actually burst out crying, saying he thought he told me that he wanted a hug before I left.”
I paused for a few seconds. And then picked it up again, “It’s hard to believe he will actually be home for one more whole year before he goes off to kindergarten.”
I had done it. Or I had thought I had done it. I have long held the belief, informed by who knows what, that women, even depressed, selfish, greedy, complaining wives, want to hear what their husbands really think and notice about the family. Like I thought there was a universal truth: every wife, at any moment loves to hear her husband express something that sounds vulnerable and comes across as intimate.
I was proud. Dare I say I thought I deserved a reward? No, I dare not. I honestly just felt like giving. Like I said, Friday was good and Saturday was good.
She then says, “There is a school nearby, R-, I think-”
-there is no force as yet studied by students of natural science that can cause boiling faster than the words I was hearing-
“-which has a preschool, like three days a week.”
(Here the copy of this fictional tale which I found seems to be missing a paragraph of caps-lock ferociousness.)
She responds, “You said what you think. But I can’t say what I think?”
I think is she genuinely unaware of how conversations work? “No, mee-stee-yay, no. You don’t get to say what you think. Not when the person who spoke before you just expressed how happy they were at a set of circumstances and your thought is a brainstorm of how to destroy those circumstances.” (Mistiye is the heathen ‘my wife’.)
Friday was good. Saturday was good.
The Contest is Not Certain
When I moved to Minnesota I immediately noticed the Somalis. If you’re unaware, they are in many towns up there, not just the Twin Cities—small and large.
The most obvious thought I had—being a geographically and climate-varieties informed American—was, “Why the eff are they staying in the cold?”
I would see them, men especially, wearing one thin layer of buffalo plaid pj pants, holding their parka tightly with ungloved hands when the wind was blowing around below zero chills.
“What is wrong with this moron?” I would constantly think.
Don’t misunderstand me. This had nothing to do with that part of the body between the brain and the wind. I thought the same thing about any poorly dressed soul. It’s just that typical Minnesotans, if they know anything, know how to put on a coat. So the Somalis stood out.
For the life of me, I couldn’t think of any industry or job that these Somalis worked in that wasn’t in every other state in the Union.
The God’s honest truth is that I just shook my head and reckoned, “Well, I have heard of Chinatown(s). So I guess a feature of American life is that some country’s immigrants just arrive and stay close.” I had never experienced the desire to stay with “my people” beyond the concept that moving out of America has never been a consideration. America is mine. So I will move around it as I please or where the wind blows me.
Just the same, I still thought they were dumb for staying in the cold. Like even my Midwestern-grown self had no idea how different the weather really is in latitudes north of Nebraska. But I also wasn’t from latitudes north of Nebraska. These people, the underdressed Somalis, were from the desert. They had actual experience in a different, surely more pleasant climate. Why didn’t they drive south? The St. Louis airport has the same work available that MSP does. Why not just move down to the Midwest and start the life there? Or, hell, why not just keep going and end up in Dellis. Or Tampa?
I thought and I thought and I thought. I just couldn’t figure it out. Why did they stay?
Did You Know the Victorian Era had a Fad Called “Table Turning”?
It’s true. I first read about it in the Gateway to the Great Books volume on Natural Science.
The renowned physicists of the era actually referenced, with tremendous disdain, the nonsense on their way to explaining how the physical world follows seemingly iron law.
But don’t take my word for it. Just search it up. Victorian era table-turning.
(You’re tired. It’s late. What does this have to do with anything, you ask? Well, it just should be counted as proof positive that there are no bounds to our ability to try to fool each other and to be fooled by each other. There are no extraterrestrial life forms, folks—only terrestrial suckers.)
Can We Be Serious About the AI Pic Trump Posted?
If we’re serious and methodically particular in this ridiculous much-ado-about-nothing, faux outrage, the following is the claim:
“I think the POTUS is crazy because, for unnamed reasons, he posted a picture which was a montage of cultural (as opposed to Biblical) Christianity imagery, to include a figure in a white robe with a red sash that, for some reason, for many people calls to mind the son of God—Jesus of Nazareth, post-resurrection—but instead of the usual artistic rendering of what famed boxer Muhammed Ali called “blonde-haired, blue-eyed” Jesus’s face, the image Trump posted had Trump’s face.”
Shorter: “I think the POTUS is crazy because he posted a political cartoon where he is depicted as the hero.”
In other words, the entire idea that “Trump posted a picture of himself as Jesus” is absolutely non-sensical.
There are no pictures of Jesus!!
Launch Window Opens at 4:24pm Mountain Time. (5:24 Central, 6:24 New York, 3:24 West Coast)
Every headline about the launch should read similarly. Why they don’t is beyond me.
https://www.youtube.com/live/Tf_UjBMIzNo?si=AXWTenlbe36P1fpe
That’s the official NASA link.
Here’s some fun broadcasters I found.
https://www.youtube.com/live/Jm8wRjD3xVA?si=ARNLEuSsio3GoBKE
Self-Imposed Curfew
Just jotting a few thoughts on topic of Minnesota.
- For people acclimated to the cold, IE Minnesotans, Dakotans, Montanans, etc, standing outside in the cold is not an indicator of anything. (For Somalis, on the other hand, standing outside in the cold reveals them to be stupid.)
- I happen to have watched videos of officer involved shootings before the last couple weeks. They are never “clear cut” or have some obvious flow or escalate linearly. Hollywood et al should not be relied on for how an officer-involved shooting should look or feel. Go look up other videos and see for yourself. They are all utter chaos. That’s why law enforcement exists in the first place.
- My visceral reaction to this morning’s shooting is “These dumb motherfuckers (meaning the lefty whites) just normalized ICE-involved shootings. It now feels just like school shootings. ‘Another one? When will people learn?’”
- I want the Law (meaning all people who act as our Law, legislature, executives, and enforcement) to know I support them, not the protesters. I think the best way I can do this is stay inside, not counter-protest etc. Let the morons and rabble who only want destruction self-identify and be the only ones out on the streets. That will make it easier for the Law to do their job.
The Natural Response to Seeing Clearly: Thankfulness
Sight has aways been important in my life. For whatever reason, from the youngest age, whenever I took a vision test and had 20/20, people told me I could be a pilot.
These days, as a pilot who often flys with night vision goggles, I can’t help but wonder how different life would be if the ancients had NVGs available as they searched the sky.
Of course, the fact that they didn’t is because of their own ridiculous beliefs about motion and rest and circles and spheres.
I remember a childhood friend who had recently got a better prescription telling us how different the world looked. She said something like, “It’s like the trees now have individual leaves.”
How did she react? Obviously she was thankful and happy about her new glasses.
Why, then, is this not the case when we use telescopes and microscopes to see more than before?
Why would seeing more somehow make us angry?
Why would seeing more somehow make us give up beliefs, like Christianity? It’s not like Christianity said, “There are three hundred stars, and the smallest unit of material is a grain of sand.”
If we can see more, I think the appropriate response should always be the same—and limited. We should be happy and thankful.
It says more about your heart, or more broadly “you”, than it does about the “data” (what is now seen) when you react otherwise.
We All Know “You can take the lady out the hood, but you can’t take the hood out of the lady”, But We Think The CIA Is Involved?
How stupid are you?
This isn’t an invitation to prove yourself. I am just making the point that there is a perfectly reasonable answer to the interweb’s (darkweb’s) latest accusation. The answer being: the dude had a terrible childhood, without love, light, or education of any kind. We (USA) used him as the forever-pawn that he only could be, when we needed forever-pawns, and he couldn’t handle the transition to civilization and peace when we were done with him.
They all still need to leave America.
Or they can assimilate. There are many options for “first step” of assimilation. A renewed effort in nationally saying Pledge of Allegiance to start the day is one.
But at this point, I say, “Please leave”.
Everyone Who “Knew This Would Happen”…
…now owes the rest of people, those without the gift of foresight, what happens next.
Predicting moohammedans’ boom in America is now merely part of history. There is no rhetorical power in claiming, “I told you so.” The rhetorical power now in great demand is, “What happens next, Oh, Great, Divinely-Touched, and Accurate Doom-Foreteller?”
This isn’t a “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine” taunt.
My foresight says two, and only two, options remain available.
- Insufferable mediocrity until America is a caliphate.
- Actual religious war, which results in everyone losing, except “hope”.
How’s that for Negative Nancy, on this Happy Hump Day?