Otic* Hamstering


“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body…” 

1 Cor. 6:19-20

~ SAITH TEH BINKS…. Ear-hamstering. Really? Fut. The. Wuck.

However, just because I’d never contemplate it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t mean something greater than “Those Darned Kids” or the fleeing fads and fashions of the world. And also, sin and evil and stupid and lookatme and ‘protest’; and there is a part of us that is still in love with the barbarian within, which is what our ancestors were for hundreds of thousands of years or more.

But More Seriously

Still. In a world where kids are expendable, preventable, recyclable, exploitable, abortable, abusable, pornable, ignorable, and where many come from the horrible and life-blighting reality of divorced homes, a disfiguring conformity is really a symptom, and not the core of the heartbreak, alienation, and pagan defiance of such marks and holes.

I think these physical fashions to be ugly, and yet another part of me looks past the outer, and asks “Why? Why now? Why this?” The same with the passive living online, in games, or via The Shiny Things– so that life is almost always at 2nd-hand. There are reasons for such half-living, and why it’s so powerful and attractive just now.


After the many & horrible social catastrophes of the 20th century, kids feel themselves afraid & alone in a cold, uncaring world which is profoundly not for them, not on their side, not reflective of God’s great “Yes” to all, young or old, rich or poor, male or female, who turn to him. Children are the great unwanted, inconvenient, decorative, murderable, expensive wee horrors. The message is loud and clear.

Despite all the riches and power and freedom and comfort and safety, our world is sever more spiritually dead. It’s a desert out there– sometimes burning, sometimes freezing, with little shelter or mercy.

Lord Jesus, have mercy. ~


* Otic = ear-related.

It's Just Like A Party.  Except....

It’s Just Like A Party.

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