Winter is Coming

This blog brought to via a slick stream-of-conscious...

Something feels right about the idea of winter. It makes more sense to me than summer (and really, all that really exists is summer and winter, everything else is just a byway to the two poles). What do I do with summer. People vacation, stay out late, start 'summer projects'; all the while the sun suddenly acts all friendly and warm and stuff...

There was a world, once, you punk.  

The problem with the changing of the seasons is this: it, by necessity, cannot be always congruous with the meta-narrative going on.

The Bible tells me of a great story arc. In that story, we are bumbling somewhere between the second and third act. In the monomyth, that is, Joseph Campbell's term for the hero's journey, there is a stage referred to as "The Belly of the Whale". This is the stage in which the protagonist enters a new world that seems quite dark, and even deadly, but it is the road in which he may emerged changed and ready to overcome his oncoming obstacles. This appears to be the stage of life that our planet is in.

Why, in my day, you could buy meat anywhere! Eggs they had, real butter! Fresh lettuce in the stores.

Christ has died for us, and God's Kingdom has begun already to take root... but I read about the endgame, and I hear that it's a pretty bloody affair.

Speaking of bloody affairs, what fun all this Wikileaks stuff is, eh? How is it possible in this day and age for a little website to suddenly get access to secret information that incriminates in some way and form nearly half of the world's civilized governments? It is astounding, i.e., I can't help but feel like this is one of those 'birth pains'.  Matthew 24:7-9,

   Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains.

   Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. 

Anyway, the crisp air and the short days; it feels right. It feels like the world is heading towards an end. In a weird way, it feels like progress.

And if progress is what is happening, if the metanarrative is lurching ever so slowly forward, then a direct consequence is that we are all players currently on the scene, in the playbill. We are performing.

What role, then, are we performing?  

The best part of the X-Men movies is the relationship between Professor X and Magneto. They are great friends. They have mutual respect for one another. Unfortunately for their friendship, they are on opposing sides of the war. They don't shy away from this fact. They fight each other with everything they have. 

I will be prudent with my words now, and yield my tongue before I dig my own grave... it's Advent season, after all... the season of anticipation.

Last Holiday season I discovered a song entitled, "This Is War" by Dustin Kensrue. Listen Now! It's a Christmas song.

You tell everybody. Listen to me, Hatcher. You've gotta tell them!... We've gotta stop them somehow!   

Goodnight.