Category Archives: Uncategorized

YATTA!

You may have heard of Pony Canyon, but I first viewed their video of YATTA! (try the one hosted by MIT, which needs Media Player), put out in ’02, today. In essence it is a cross between “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” “Y.M.C.A,” and The Full Monty, and yet it is 100% Japanese.

There have been parodies done about it as well, but they are not the real thing. This site has a few more video links, but read the English translation! I guess Japan is/was really doing poorly economically and many are/were losing their jobs, which is seen as their identity. Then YATTA! comes out exclaiming, “All Right! As long as we have one leaf on, we’re doin’ fine!” Pony Canyon is extremely famous in Japan(probably not as famous as they were in ’02, but still…). Anyway, here’s a little background info. Hope you enjoy the Japanese in BVD’s! YATTA!

Sense and Sensuality

Last week Amy suggested I read Ravi Zacharias’ book Sense and Sensuality: Jesus Talks to Oscar Wilde on the Pursuit of Pleasure. It is a short play-like script in which Oscar Wilde is nearing the end of his life (a few days before his funeral) and meets a gardener, but not just any gardener, the Gardener Jesus Christ. Jesus and Wilde dialogue and even meet up with Pascal (someone Wilde very much admired). Jesus confront Wilde’s philosophy of a pleasure seeking life and tears down the un-truths on which Wilde had based his life. The following is my response to Amy (in an email) after reading it (with a little editing for clarity’s sake). I was going to reform it into a blog-type entry, but it’d take more time than I have righ now. Sorry if you haven’t read it and it still doesn’t all make sense, but I think you might get the “feel” of what I meant:

At first I was annoyed at Ravie Z’s writing. The dialogue was a little overdramatic for me. That’s probably why I hadn’t finished it when I started it before at your house. I kept on, though, because I knew you respected it. There is some good stuff in there. I don’t know if I completely agree with his viewpoint about Art, but I can see his what he means. When I read it knowing that Ravie Z. is a theologizing kind of person I started to get more out of it. Some of it I had to reread because it was pretty deep. Some of it was kinda lame to me too, but he makes some excellent points about desire and pleasure. It’s good for Christians to remember that God created pleasure as well suffering and that both follow when we follow Him. But if we seek pleasure first it only disappoints and kills the soul (because it isn’t eternal). Good book! I liked how he framed it with his [Zacharias’] visit to Wilde’s grave and makes the point that if we are concerned with whether or not Wilde was a saved at his end we miss the point.

On his point about Art, I agree with everything except that he says Art is less real than reality [I actually do believe this, but I make a note later as to what I meant when I wrote it]. I tend to believe that Art is not meant to BE reality, but interpret it. That’s why he makes the point about Art, when focus for the right reasons, can be beautiful. Often Art can say more than reality by itself can, because our perceptions are so limited and often narrow. All imaginings are based off of some sort of reality and, in turn, reflect back a new way to look at that reality [Amy pointed out that I don’t really disagree with him at all. She’s right, thus the inconsistencies of email philosophy…but I think I was trying to make a distinction of how Art is an interpreted reality and can change reality for the viewer in a positive way (as well as negative), i.e. the whole idea that ideals aren’t always meant to be attained but they give direction either toward or away from God and we need to know when they have maxxed out their purpose. Even Jesus’ metaphors never perfectly lined up with the reality, but they certainly give us, and most definitely the people of that era, an insight into God and His kingdom. It almost seemed that Zacharius was downplaying God’s voice through Art, as if it could say less than pure logic and philosophy, but I think that they are at about the same level of usefulness if the ultimate focus is God. They even cross over into eachother at times, but they are never reality itself. Art and philosophy for that matter) can never achieve the greatness of the reality of God, but it can bring out God’s reality in our sinful and “Matrix-like” world, like clearing away the fog on a mirror gives us a better idea of what is reflected. So Art is not equal to God’s reality while it can also be more real than our own perversions of reality, which seem real to us ]. I think that a viewer’s interpretation of Art holds an equal amount of responsibility as the artist, because we can’t always know the artists intentions. Ideally, both the artist and the aesthete should have the same standpoint: that of a foundation in Christ. But that can never be certain because that is the way all things we “put out” in life are. We can never be certain that the receptor is seeing it the way we mean or the artist is meaning what we see. The neat thing about Art though is that it has a way of saying so much more than mere everyday words can and more efficiently, and more pleasingly(made-up word?), and can help us make sense of a corrupt world, to highlight real beauty, or sometimes real sin, and change the viewer idea of reality.

Now, of course, God doesn’t need Art to do this and He has better ways, like the Bible and his Grace alone is sufficient. But He certainly uses Art and artists (Christian and Non). One thing I love about Josh is his ability to see God in things, such as songs, where the artist may never have meant it originally. As PK has quoted to from somewhere, “There is nothing so evil that God can’t use it for His good”. I know that some of the poems of Yeats, where you thought he was writing to praise God, but in reality was actually an atheist, trips your trigger. Yeah, his intentions may have been one thing, but I think you saw the Truth. Also, we as Christians always have to weed through the crap that Sin throws at us, from ourselves and others.

I certainly believe in restrictions. There NEEDS to be limits, as anything needs limits. Unfortunately Satan has a way with rotting the hearts of artists, who in turn affect many others away from Christ. Just as I may be able to initially see a naked body as truly beautiful as an aesthete, seeing a naked body gives a foothold to Satan to take control later. There are ways we can restrict ourselves and we have to do what we can to not bring a brother or sister into temptation. There are lines that are drawn by the Lord, but if we stick close to Him we know when we’ve crossed. If we let Him teach us we may even learn to not test those boundaries and stay center.

Lull in My Blog World

I’ve noticed that the blogs that I tend to frequent, especially my own, have been in a lull as of late. Before Christmas postings were common from The Incredible Neal Redman and The Daring and Spectacular Stephanie Lewis and Josh “da man, da myth” Lewis, who interestingly has been fairly consistent, but whose entries have been more geek related (Not that there is anything wrong with that. I do have some geek in me). Myself, I haven’t been really feeling like writing about anything. Mmyeah, there’s news, but I don’t really feel like broadcasting it. I’ve been finding other things to do as well.

In contrast, my dance world has picked up, which is nice. I have with my Master classes totalled 13 credits this semester and anything else now is free to me, so I am taking a Ballet class and a Men’s Modern class. The Men’s Modern class, especially, has filled a divot in my life that I’ve been feeling since I started this graduate stuff.

“Gotta dance!!!”

It’s great to feel my muscles around my ribs tightening, the sweat soaking my shirt, my feet against a Kevlar floor. I am surprised at how fast my body can remember some things and how it has totally forgotten others. Muscles I once hardly thought of are cramping during Ballet from non-use(I haven’t taken for over a year and a half). But it’s great! It’s great to know I’m using them. I am looking forward to the next weeks as my muscles remember how good it feels to stretch. Right now I have to keep reminding myself to breathe deeply and release because groups of muscle, like my back muscles and hamstrings, have gotten used to the a computer lab slouch and curl-under.

If I ever did teach dance it would be similar to how the teacher for this Men’s Modern class teaches. It’s tough, creative, we sweat a lot, and we really, really move. Praise God for the joy in moving!!! I went to sleep last night for the first time in a long time physically tired and slept well.

I’ve kind of gotten off the original subject, but in a way they tie in to each other. I love writing, but sometimes I just need to move. And that, my friends, has been why I lately have been less inclined to sit in a computer lab and blog… well that… and I haven’t had computer homework from which to be distracted.

Find Your Spot

I just took an on-line quiz on www.findyourspot.com. The quiz goes through a series of questions and informs you of your “top spots.” It’s pretty nifty. Check out my results (you’ll have to sign in to see them. Spotname: eddieb Password: bruno)

Anyway, I like that line up. Makes me want to go to these places to check them out.

Give the quiz a try and tell me what your results are. Be forgiving of the bad puns.

The Wayfarer

The U of M’s annual student magazine, The Wayfarer, accepted a couple of my poems, “Beloved” (a sonnet which I wrote for Amy) and “How to Kill a Cat.” It’s nothing big, but it’s still kinda cool. It’s under poetry and “Eddy B. Oroyan.” Yes, they spelled my name wrong. I sent an email. Hopefully they’ll change it.

Anyway, when they contacted me and said they chose the poems in the middle of last semester it gave me the little pcik up I needed to keep going through the drudgery. Hope they mean something to the readers.

My Stepdad. A New Saint!

Last night my stepdad came into the Twin Cities on his way up North to Baxter. He stayed the night and for dinner we were invited over to Amy’s parents. It was a good time. I could tell he didn’t feel comfortable being in an environment so foreign to him, but he said that when we got into a discussion about the Bible he became really interested. He has so many questions!

If any of you know my stepdad at all or if I’ve talked to you about him you know that there is nothing short of a miracle of God that would change him. I do believe that he has changed.

“There is nothing so bad that God can’t use it for His good.” I’ve heard that said many times. Right now my mom is divorcing my stepdad. I don’t agree with it and I believe she knows where I stand on this, but I do see that God has used this to turn my stepdad around. He is a broken man and constantly reminds me that the only thing keeping him through this, keeping him alive, is God.

It has reshaped my reality. What I’ve known of him for the last 20 or so years is so different than what I am seeing now. I woke up this morning to him asking me if he could take me out to breakfast and that he wanted to talk to me. I couldn’t help feel afraid that he was going to say, “Eddie, I don’t believe any of this stuff I’ve said about God. I’m just using it as a ploy to get your mother back.” This was my weakness, because when we talked at breakfast it only reaffirmed his change. I do believe that he has accepted Jesus! This is crazy to me! I had so little hope that it would happen. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

I find that I have to remind myself to keep trust in God’s power because I start to be fearful that I will say or do something that would turn him away from Christianity. Because this is so weird to me, I sometimes feel like he is so fragile and I don’t want to disturb the Truth that he’s finally accepted. I remind myself that God has control over that. I just pray and hope that he is the seed that is cast on good soil and that he takes root eternally into Jesus.

I get scared sometimes because I am laying my heart out before him and talking about Gods’ grace and I am afraid that it will be pushed aside and thought naive. When I talk with him sometimes this grip of fear forms around my heart and I start to wonder if he thinks I’m foolish for believing something so strongly, but his eyes and constancy tell me otherwise. There is some crazy stuff going on here. It’s good for me too.

There is much more to this story, more than I would feel comfortable posting on my blog, but please hope and pray for the healing of my family and rejoice at the homecoming of a 54 year old prodigal.

Unit *additions*

I made a link to my unit in an earlier blog and have since then amended that one and added a new site. I am hoping to use the site for my student teaching next semester. If you view it make sure to maxmize your browser so as to get the full effects of the interctiveness. I designed it around the idea that kids these days are becoming more and more multi-task thinkers. I’m looking forward to testing it out.

Snowblind

OK, I will now amend my last entry. Yes, the snow is beautiful and it can seem warm after it just snows, but dang!!! It’s honkin’ cold when that wind chill kicks in and your car is over twenty years old. I was even led to pull out the old electric blanket last night so I wouldn’t overdue it on my electric bill this month using the register heaters on the wall. Maybe I’m just getting old, but yesterday I wore the old flip-flops, then ended up changing into boots. You know, sometimes I just don’t like feeling cold…

So there you go; just call me Sybil.

Blanket

During the night it snowed a two-inch quilt over all the maple trees and train tracks and traffic lights. When it snows it feels warmer. I’ve said this over the years when people would gawk at my bare feet in flip-flops; it feels warmer with snow on the ground. It’s worse the several weeks before it snows hard (almost like feet need to become acclimated). But I think there really is something that changes, at least at the ground level, when it snows. I’ve told those who think I’m crazy for wearing sandals in the winter that my feet melt the snow into water, and water is a great conductor for heat.

The steeping warmth that thaws numb fingers and toes after coming in from several hours in the cold, like after skiing or snow shoveling, is better than wet roses and whiskered kittens. Going from a ball of layers to socks and long johns, (a little wet around the ankles and red around the cheeks), thighs a little itchy, and plastered hair… I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy living on a tropical island, but with what we got here in Minnesota and her four seasons, I’m content.

Winter Sports

Well, I a total of 2 hours sleep Friday night after coming home from work and finishing my unit (still a work in progress). I went to class from 9 AM to 12 PM, came home at around 2 PM and listened to my messages. My finger was heavy on the play button, but when I heard the message I suddenly was rushed with adrenaline. Amy’s cousin Erica’s fiance Peter invited me to his bachelor party. The party involved paint (but no stripper! HA!) and pain.

I bought my own paintball gun this summer and have fruitlessly tried to find a group of guys to play. Finally I got my chance. I took an hour nap, got up to test the site on my gun down by an old abandoned Mississippi bridge and headed to Peter’s house.

When I arrived we left to pick up some other guys, ate some pizza and headed to an indoor arena. The huge warehouse building had two rooms: one with huge inflated, yellow bubbles and cones and one that was like a large room with walls with windows, random couches and inner tubes, and a ton of this weird saw-dust stuff on the floor (kinda like with what you soak up puke).

We spent most of our time in the latter room broken into teams of four. I got some pretty good hits and liked to think I use more skill in my shooting than the “let’s see how much paint I can shoot out of this gun before I get shot” guys. I was usually one of the last to survive, and sometimes the last, but once it was just me and one other guy left. We were having this great volley, then somebody yelled, “Hey! You guys are on the same team!”

My favorite room was the one with the blow up obstacles. It was like a combination of Running Man and The Matrix. Nearing the end of our paint, our teams got smaller as guys ran out. I had a lot of balls left and ended up sharing some with Peter and a couple other guys. We went 2 on 2 and I got hit in the crown of my head. It didn’t hurt much, but I still have a little bump from it. In this particular game if you get hit you just have to go to the back of the room and touch the wall. I did so and came back with a vengence. I didn’t even go for cover. I just came out, pointed my gun, shot and marked both of them. It felt pretty cool.

I do have to say that the most fun was afterward at one of Peter’s friend’s house where we showed our wounds and told what was going on in our heads and finding out who shot us. We laughed a lot realizing that everybody really didn’t know what they were doing. But I think that’s what made it fun.

Anyway, as for war wounds, I only have that bump on my head and a little red circle on my stomach (which was from my own team member). Would I do it again? Of course, that’s why I bought the gun. But I probably won’t in the winter as it ended up costing me $36 dollars to rent the space and pay for balls. It would have been cheaper but two guys backed out. Although now I have a couple new contacts for next summer when I’m feeling a little trigger happy. One of the guys had his own gun too and has a big wooded back yard.

Even though I am lacking in sleep and down $36 dollars, I am still glad that I went. I was starting to go a little nutty behind my computer screen and needed a little ventilation. Nothing like getting wacked with several rounds of paintballs to get one’s sense of reality back in check.