He ran the cosmos

of a thousand acres

from a pick up truck,

mucking through mire

thicker than hell,

subduing snakes with our shovels.

106 degrees

smell of Kool menthol smoke

lacing the slow drenching rain of sweat

and that farm truck,

now a million miles away,

only oasis in sight

with its freon mirage

and overheating motor

beckoned me,

come sit in my cab.

Drink the water

of my false refuge.

That’s when the speech would come,

as though from the mouth of Adam himself,

that very first farmer to know the toil of dust

“Son, you can’t pick your jobs.

This has to be done.”

Speaking sternly into the cacophony of my complaints,

“John David, I don’t mind hard work.

I never have.” and those words

wore me like a cross

“Dammit! My soul would say.

Like a curse that is the cure

running like chemo in my veins.

That speech heals me

And The balmy fellowship

Of the farmer’s suffering

What I wouldn’t give to hear it again.

John David Walt

Ash Wednesday 2012

MORE OF MY POEMS HERE.

A few observations from this chart released today by Silicon Alley Insider.

1. What began as a “road-trip” video rental service by a fast food chain is now our preferred way of renting movies at home.

2. We would rather drive to McDonalds for a much smaller movie selection than to a Blockbuster with a significantly larger collection. (where blockbuster still remains) I think we can stick a fork in Blockbuster– they are DONE.

3. Something about $1 a day rentals is irresistible.

4. The future of Netflix is in streaming video.

5. Movies go better with fries.

6. Our core values: Quick, Cheap, Easy.

7. Somehow we never saw it coming– movies ala vending machines.

I’d say the next iteration will be drive-up ATM styled Red Boxes where you don’t have to leave the car. Expect them to pop up in Wal-Mart parking lots. Watch for “RedBox Classics” vending machines that house the IMDB top 250 movies of all time. Also look for Redbox @ Home with streaming movies for $1 each– pay per view (no subscription required).

your observations and predictions welcome.

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S-l-o-w-i-n-g. I think I first learned the term about ten years ago in a chapter by the same name in one of John Ortberg’s books. I’ve always liked the concept and every once in a while I remember it, but these days something magnetic about the idea pulls me into it’s orbit. Maybe that idea of “orbit” and “gravity” is the real issue. The world I so regularly create and commit myself to has such gravitational pull that it holds me in a very close orbit. The closer the orbit, the faster we must move to get around it. Consider this:

Time it takes pluto to orbit the sun: 248 years
Time it takes the earth to orbit the sun: 365 days
Time it takes the moon to orbit the earth: 28 days
Time it takes the International Space Station to orbit the earth: 91 minutes

The closer the orbit the faster we must move. The faster we move the less we see. The less we see the more limited our perspective. The more limited our perspective the shallower our wisdom. The shallower our wisdom the more anemic our life.

I’m slowing. Practically speaking it means I will drive at least 5 miles under the speed limit, especially around town. I will work in focused segments of time, at least 20 minutes in length, doing only one thing. This necessitates not checking email, facebooking, twittering, texting, or answering my phone out of turn. Whenever I have the chance to walk somewhere I will walk. I will “behold” other people when together. I will read one poem a day. I will gaze at artwork every time I am near it. I will put away my iPhone between the hours of 6pm and 6am. I will take my time when I wash dishes or fold clothes or brush my youngest’s teeth. I will keep Sabbath weekly. I’m s-l-o-w-i-n-g.

In his book, The Contemplative Patstor: Returning to the Art of Spiritual Direction, Gene Peterson writes, “It is far more biblical to learn quietness and attentiveness before God than to be overtaken by what John Oman named the twin perils of ministry, ‘flurry and worry.’ For flurry dissipates energy, and worry constipates it.”

If this strikes a chord in you, please join me. I’d love to see your every day practical ideas as to how “slowing” can happen. Jot down your ideas in a comment below.

Apple set to be the #1 seller of PC’s next year.

Thoughts of Wow! And Finally! And “They said it would never happen!” all flashed across the screen of my mind.

And then it hit me. Apple doesn’t sell PC’s. Wasn’t that Steve Jobs’ whole point?

“Think Different?”

It would be akin to the headline, “Pepsi set to be the #1 seller of Coke next year.”

If ever there were the blaspheming of a brand, this is it.

Could this signal the beginning of the end for the brand Jobs’ built? He must be turning over in his grave.

My take: Apple didn’t set out to win the “computer” war. Jobs created an entirely different game; one in which they were the only player. That, in large part, explains why apple owns the tablet market. There is no competition. This can’t be summed up as a blue ocean red ocean issue. It’s more like apples and oranges isn’t it.

How might you develop this kind of strategy in your business or on your blog? What about your church or non profit? How many churches operate with the mentality of competing with other churches. I work in higher education, an industry that constantly talks about “comparator” schools. Someone is going to completely reinvent the game soon, leaving the rest of us holding the proverbial bag.

My question: what would it look like to create a new game; one where you owned the playing field–because you were the only player? It takes a lot more imagination and ingenuity to do this. But it must be a whole lot more fun. I

Anyone got any analysis on this?

How does that happen? It’s their symbol.

Sure, we can chalk it all up to the science of brilliant branding and so forth I think there’s something much deeper at work.

Symbols, in saying nothing, say more than words ever could. The word “Apple” is quite limited in what it can do. Go into a room of strangers and simply speak the word, “Apple” and people will not know if you are referring to fruit or a computer or pie or sauce or. . . .

With that same group, say nothing but simply brandish the symbol and you’ve spoken volumes.

Not all symbols do this. When a symbol gains the power to convey an entire world of meaning that can be shared among many without words it has moved into the rarified air of “sign” status. To one degree or another it becomes iconic. In a powerful but ultimately limited way, Apple has done this.

It’s interesting that the alternate world of computers has gone in the opposite direction. Not only is there no iconic sign, there isn’t even a word. They have allowed themselves to be reduced to a couple of letters: PC.

There is an intense analogy here with respect to words and signs and the way God works in and through Jesus Christ. I’d love it if you would “flesh” that out with me.

The truth is, you probably are.

In all seriousness– here are the two traps:

1. To forget what it’s like not to know what you know. (i.e. to be unaware of your intelligence)

2. To not know what you don’t know. (i.e. to be unaware of your ignorance)

The former is negligence. The latter is recklessness. Both run the risk of arrogance.

The antidote to the former is attentiveness; for the latter it’s restraint.