Well, the time has come for me to start blogging again, and given that much of my community here has migrated away, I set myself up a WordPress site. Please migrate your subscriptions and attention there!

The New and Improved Re:Creation

Four and a half months after I stopped work and planned to engage in a sabbatical of sorts, I'm back. I flew in from Kenya a day ago, and am now in Orlando as I prepare to help my parents move cross-country to San Francisco.

In many ways, I'm still recovering from Kenya, and cannot yet distill that complex and amazing experience into a weblog entry. In the coming days, I hope to write a thematic series of articles on the various aspects of my time there, which might be a better way of doing justice to it. For now, it's just hard to adjust to life in the US, and life away from my friends old and new at Tumaini.

I certainly have a lot to think about and process. Between 3 weeks of touring with the New Frontiers, spending 6 weeks at Schloss Mittersill in Austria, and now living 8 weeks in rural Kenya, I've had a number of new experiences, and noticed a lot of things about the world and myself which call for introspection, integration, and response.

As I look forward to my future both near and far, I find that I'm more confused about what I can and should do, not less! In that sense, the sabbatical did not live up to my hopes! But I'm beginning to see that this place is probably right where I should be, despite my desires for easy clarity. I think God and other people gave me so many unlooked-for gifts during this time away, albeit sometimes through hard circumstances, so it has been a slow process of gaining the eyes to see their goodness! I'm sure that process will continue in the next weeks and months.

Now, I must focus on re-inserting myself into the matrix of life here, finding work, and pondering next steps. There's an exciting freedom in not knowing where I will be in a year, let alone two months! But I hope that the right path, if there is such a thing, will present itself to me in enough time to follow it. It usually does, I guess.

So that's all for now--please stay tuned for the Kenya series, pictures, and other announcements during the next few weeks!

When I last wrote about the sabbatical which is underway (read part 1 here), I was in the middle of my time at Schloss Mitersill, in Austria. That time has now ended! I'm currently writing at a hostel in Oxford, and tomorrow I'll be catching a flight to Nairobi, before heading to Nyeri, Kenya. I'm very happy to report that my time at the Schloss finished well. This, of course, means that I'm certainly sad to see it end. But before I talk more about that, here are some pictures of the Schloss and the gorgeous surrounding area:

It has been a while since I last wrote. Much has happened (not least the tour I mentioned in the last entry), indeed too much to adequately share. Many of my friends will have received an ominous e-mail a few months ago entitled "Life Update". In that e-mail, I detailed a few of my current struggles, and elaborated a plan to take a bit of a sabbatical from work and life in California.

I am at home in Orlando right now, to be with family and relax during the Thanksgiving holidays. Another stated goal of this time is to avoid using the computer as much as possible so I can begin healing from my RSI's. As you can tell from the mere fact of my blogging, such is more difficult for me than it sounds. In fact, I've begun to see computer avoidance as a discipline I should practice for spiritual as well as physical reasons.

At any rate, it is good to be home. One of the tasks my mother has set me for my time here is to go through all my old boxes of saved school projects, mementos, love letters, etc., and to vaguely scrapbook them. (For me, "scrapbooking" involves putting things into a binder).

If you want to skip right to the pictures, click here

I just returned from Geneva, Switzerland--a trip I decided to take a mere 3 weeks ago. Every year, my parents have a business trip in late September to some international location (for legal reasons, these meetings have to take place outside the US). Since I graduated high school in 2000 and chose to attend Stanford (a quarter school), I've had the good fortune to not be in class during these trips, and thus was able to tag along with my folks. We've been to some great places--London (twice), Dublin, Lisbon, and Barcelona (after I graduated). I didn't go on the 2005 trip, but since my work schedule permitted this year, I was able to go to Geneva. (For a few older blogs of such trips, see here for Lisbon 2002 and here for Barcelona 2004).

These trips are always fun, not least because I've gotten to know many of the other attendees, all great people. At times there have even been sons or daughters there like myself, and so there are often young people to hang out with, in addition to spending great time with my parents. My friend Laura was there, of this January's Bahamas trip fame.

The group dinners are generally quite nice, and so it's also fun to bring "dress-up" clothes to wear consistently. (I wore my suit this week for the first time since last December, I think). This trip was particularly special for me, however, because it happened that my 24th birthday was during the trip, and I had a wonderful time celebrating it with my parents and some friends, both at a spectacular dinner and later at our pub of choice, over fine cuban cigars and cognac. I certainly couldn't ask for a better birthday experience, though I did miss my friends from home. As an extra special gift, my parents also let me use some of their airline upgrade coupons, so we all traveled to and from Geneva in business / first class. What luxury!

I spent most of my time in Geneva sleeping, hanging out in our great hotel (the Hotel d'Angleterre), working out or using the sauna, catching up on my reading, or wandering around taking pictures and buying sandwiches using poor French. One tourist highlight was definitely the Patek Philippe museum, which had on exhibit some of the oldest and most complicated watches in the world. The sheer amount of time, love, and skill put into these objects by their craftsmen was literally awing. One complicated mechanical watch we saw had over 1800 unique parts, individually designed and produced and assembled. This watch, like some others in the exhibit, kept track of the time, of course, but also such measurements as the day, the week, the month, the year, the lunar phases, sidereal time, the location of certain stars in the sky, etc... (taking into account leap years, etc..--it's guaranteed to be accurate for something like 500 years if kept wound).

Life in Geneva appears to be very expensive, and the same was true of souvenirs. Accordingly, the only things I brought back were two beer glasses (one a .5L stein (Cardinal), and the other a Belgian snifter (Leffe)), both procured by my dad, free for the asking from bars. Incidentally, the beer of the trip was hands-down the Belgian Leffe (the blonde variety). It had a light color, a creamy texture, and a strong, sweet taste. It was not overpowering, though, and had a very strong spruce hops aroma which kept the whole thing dynamic and interesting. It probably now ranks in my top 5 beer list.

Well, check out the pictures, and let me know what you think!

Anyone who has been around this weblog for long enough has realized that I care a lot about mainly two categories of things. The first is Girls, and specifically how to entice an especially awesome, as-yet-unpinpointed one to eventually marry me. The second is The Stuff I Am Passionate About. This second category is usually seen in long diatribes about how I have so many passions that the thought of finding one thing to do in my life (my life's project, so to speak) is incredibly daunting. I usually think of such pursuits as falling under one of the following headings: Philosophy, Theology, Music, Language, Coding, Writing, or Design. Importantly, I'm interested in the creative elements of each.

I often laugh derisively at any suggestion that these things could be combined into a single role or project; for what pursuit can bring together such disparate fields as philosophy and computer programming, not to mention the others? It struck me today that maybe there is such a project: the design and implementation of a massively-multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG), of which the current most popular example is World of Warcraft.

Clearly, since a MMORPG is a piece of software, it involves coding. But it also involves World Design--the overarching story and history of a fantastical place (a la The Silmarillion, my favorite book). Clearly creating such an immersive world involves a foray into philosophy (and probably theology, since worlds without magic or arcane technology are boring). Beyond that, what can provide more immersion than Tolkien's strategy of language creation? Of course, histories of entire civilizations and languages need to be conveyed in as powerful and encompassing wording as possible, thus requiring a skilled writer. Finally, what is a venture into an unknown world without the appropriate stunning visual and audio design? The score would need to be more immense than any 2-hour movie.

Well, there it is! It doesn't seem like anything important is missing. And it certainly explains my fascination with the concepts behind MMORPGs in the first place. Unfortunately, I don't know that working for a MMO house would be fulfilling at all to me; curiously, I don't know why. I certainly don't think that a life spent to encourage the use of the imagination is wasted--Tolkien and Lewis are my heroes precisely for that reason. Maybe it's just that my experience with MMORPG culture has made me doubt whether the kind of imagination encouraged is actually of any enduring value. I suppose that at the end of the day I do believe that imagination has a function--that of re-envisioning a broken and fractured reality--and I don't know that World of Warcraft really inspires this, rather than a mindless grind for powerful virtual items that give one a sense of superiority over other players.

Maybe that's the difference between The Silmarillion and World of Warcraft--since The Silmarillion is a story, it asks you to enter in and wander around by yourself, unlocking experiences with the imagination. Warcraft, on the other hand, is unavoidably a game, and one not of collaborative imagination as often as competitive un-imagination. (What I mean by unimagination is that many players purposefully de-mystify any imaginative elements in MMORPGs, reducing it to the underlying code systems, so that they might more easily "win" the game. My motivations in playing MMORPGs, on the other hand, are generally rather to have an immersive, imaginative experience). Perhaps there are ways to create a game like this; perhaps that is what real-life role-playing groups find attractive about their sessions (which frankly don't appeal to me, for some reason); however, I doubt that, even given the possibility of designing such a game, that the result would be compelling to enough people to build a multi-million-dollar franchise on top of (which seems to be the point of most computer games).

But what do you think, O Reader? Should I go try and get hired by Blizzard? I haven't said anything about the physical pursuits I enjoy (which are also many), or about any actual positive results of work for the poorer and more downtrodden in the world (who might not be able to afford my computer game). What is there to say about that? (But note that I'm not asking the question, "Was Tolkien wrong in writing his novels when he could have been helping poor children elsewhere, very materially?" since I take it for granted that the answer's no.)

Well, this is the longest hiatus I've ever had on this blog so far, but I won't say it's without reason. Still, there are many times I wish I'd had the space to catalogue some thoughts. The best I can do now is give a list of the sort of things I've been up to over the past months (with pictures!). Hopefully you'll find some of it interesting.

In roughly chronological order:

Last night I went back to the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco for the second time this month, to see the Smoking Popes / Lovedrug show. It was an incredible experience, and I realized something about myself that is important to share (and might also be an important contribution to Rock Theory in general).

Gratuitous picture to get you to read further: Lovedrug's symbol of the moment

While I have for a while been promising certain academic ponderings and/or Whitney summaries, these are not immediately forthcoming. Meanwhile, I thought I'd share (in a mood particularly inspired by the new caramel Bailey's and friends) my satisfaction with certain recent Events. Said Events are three. (Actually, there are more, but there has to be some kind of limit)

Event 1: On Thursday, I went to an Over the Rhine and Hem show in San Francisco. I have loved and followed Over the Rhine for years. Karin's (the singer's) voice is like magical, sensual, chocolate and wine-filled lovemaking. I think. I have never had magical, sensual, chocolate and wine-filled lovemaking, but it is at least how I would imagine it going. The show was at the Great American Music Hall--my favorite SF venue, where I have seen most if not all of my favorite artists over the past 6-7 years. After Hem's flawless opening set, Over the Rhine kicked things off with "Latter Days", possibly my favorite song of theirs. From then until the end of their hour-plus set, I was in a world of enchantment which I can't coherently relate. Many things rose up in me and got stuck in my throat that I wish I knew how to remember. Times of such beauty are rare.

Event 2: Last night (Saturday), my housemate Trent's fiancee and friends were all out for some "bachelorette party" or something. Not to be outdone, many of us non-women had an "anti-bachelorette fiesta" of sorts. While the real anti-bachelorette celebration will take place in Mexico in a little while, we settled for much pizza, beer, the viewing of a movie, and some "drunken frisbee golf", as we like to call it, on Stanford's campus. This is one of my favorite events. Indeed, it does consist of a certain amount of frisbee golf, but the "drunken" adjective is not as accurate as might be feared. There is, it is not to be doubted, a good amount of alcohol which is consumed beerly. However, the primary attraction to "DFG" is not any actual state of drunkenness (which, as good Christians, we studiously avoided), but rather a state I like to call "playing frisbee golf with a cigarette and pulling a cooler of cheap beer behind us every once in a while drinking some". For some reason the image is just plain titillating. Beer or no, I had one of my better rounds on the Stanford course, finishing like 10 over par or something.

Event 3: Tonight (Sunday), I went to church. Gasp! It has been a while. But I had ulterior motives. Not, surprisingly, to ogle at hot church-going women (though that may or may not have been a previous ulterior motive). In fact, his greatness himself, the fabulous NT Wright, deigned to speak at MPPC's "Postmodern" evening service. Candles and big TV screens in full effect, NT gave one of the better talks I've heard inside the walls of a church in a long time. I'm not at the moment in a position to sum up the talk, but suffice it to say it scratched my itchings. I haven't read much of Wright's considerable bibliography, but am now planning on it. I also find myself wishing the man hadn't decided to get involved in the church. If he had opted to stay in academics, for instance, I would have been easily persuaded to travel to Oxford and study under him (such was his facility with history, philosophy, and theology).

Apart from these events, there were also two amazing birthday parties (at Tiburon and Half Moon Bay, respectively), and three amazing games of Ultimate Frisbee. Today at our third game session, I felt a magically-increased ability to read the disc, to run to wherever it was, and to just generally be happy with my performance (a relative first for me in the realm of sports). I suppose I have always underestimated the power of practice to actually make better the thing practiced. Maybe it is because I've always quit things when the practicing got slightly difficult--but Ultimate has kept my attention quite well, and I am happy to call it my favorite team sport. (And no I am not a hippie). Also, not to be forgotten, I held a CD release party for Splendour Hyaline's latest offering. A good number of my friends showed up and we rocked out to my music. Apart from the ego-stroking, it was a very meaningful time and I was glad to celebrate the completion of a new art project with many of those I love.

In other news...I am planning on reading The Da Vinci Code. God help me and my literary (in)sensibilities.

As I noted in my Greece / Prague travelogue, I kept a list on my recent trip to Europe, which I named "Things That Are True". Disappointingly, the content of the list had little to do with philosophical truths or anything which would be of interest to your average human; instead, this was a list of things that were true mostly concerning myself (with the occasional random observation). It was a special list more because of the concise nature of the statements, the self-perception achieved, and the relatively high degree of honesty. So what follows is a very incomplete but nonetheless good summary of, actually, my identity as it currently stands, phrased in terms of struggles, loves, hopes, observations, and more.

Here it is, exactly as I wrote it out over the 10-day adventure (any editorial additions or comments will be italicized and in brackets):

(this is part VI of my recent European trip journal. If you haven't seen them yet, you should read part I, part II, part III, part IV, and part V)

4-9, 11:30 AM, Somewhere over the Atlantic

Wow, has it really been 5 days [since I last wrote]? Shamefully, I did not write at all during the visit to Prague. Now, I'm sitting on the plane from LHR to JFK, so I have time to wrap up this trip journal. (That is, if the worst flight attendant in the world will stop being a jerk about my bags on the floor). [She had given me this really pathetic, patronizing lecture about exit row protocol, using a voice that I would only use with a 2-year-old, wearing a smile that was oozing smug sarcasm. Ugh.]

Well, the morning after I last wrote, my sister and I had some amazing breakfast crepes in Fira--the best I've ever had. After that, I did end up finding a greek Orthodox bookstore, where the proprietors did not speak very much English, but I hung out with them for a while, and eventually picked up a wonderful New Testament, with one page of each pair being the ancient Greek, and the other being modern (though I learned they still use the polytonic accents in the modern translation, out of reverence for the text). With that, our time in Santorini was more or less over, and we dutifully endured the long ferry ride back to Peiraias. It was quite a bit more crowded than before, and of course the one screaming child in our cabin was seated right next to me. I don't understand obnoxious screaming kids. Don't they get bored or tired after a while? Guess not. I hope to God mine aren't like that! We got to port just a few minutes after the metro stopped running, so we had to hire a cab for the ride back to our hotstel on Kydathineon street downtown--and of course the cabbie tried to up the price on us when we left. Ridiculous!

The next day was one of traveling. Rachel and I left our hostel mid-morning, taking leave of our traveling companion Victor; we made it to the airport OK, then took a Swiss Air flight to Zurich (before which, we were able to get into the British Airways club for an hour and have sandwiches, beer, and internet--thank you AA Platinum!). Zurich was a well-designed airport, but very hot. Our layover was not long, however, and soon we were on our rather small regional jet over to Prague!

When we arrived in Prague, the weather was cool and very refreshing--I was glad to be able to break out my jacket, finally. We took a crowded bus (it was 6 PM) to the crowded metro [to Namesti Miru], then another crowded above-ground tram to our hostel, the Czech Inn. It was by far the cleanest and nicest hostel I've stayed in, and cheap too! It's brand new, and done in a very elegant modern decor, all sans-serify. Moreover, the bar was excellent, with equally excellent Czech beer on tap, at about $2 a liter. My sister rushed off just as soon as we arrived to go to a dance with a friend of hers from Capernwray, Peter, who's from Prague. While she was busy being the belle of the ball, I entertained myself with beer and some Czech snacks [consisting of clumps of cheese, oil, onions, and rye bread; it looked and sounded disgusting, but went perfectly with the beer]. After a while, Rachel's traveling buddy from Capernwray, Vince [who'd been traveling with Rachel in the UK earlier], showed up. He was to join her and my mom and brother (due to arrive the next day) for the next few weeks. I went to bed exhausted and pleasantly full.

The next day (Friday), Rachel, Vince, and I were met early by Petr and his friend, also Petr. The two of them acted as tour guides for us pretty much the entire day, taking us to some of the main spots in Prague, but more often to out-of-the-way places where there weren't as many tourists. It was wonderful to have people who were knowledgeable about the city, and who could translate for us! [This was particularly important at lunch, when we wouldn't have been able to tell the (important) difference between, say, pork and tripe] We visited the national park otuside the city, walked through the center, then went to Vysehrad where we had lunch at a very local pub-type place and ate some traditional Czech food.

In the afternoon, I learned that some of Petr's other friends were going rock climbing, so I asked if I could go with them. Around 4;30, I met up with them at Dejvicka station and we were off to the gym (though they didn't really speak English, except for one guy, and I never really figured out their names). The gym was pretty far out of town, and it was insane--all top-rope, and all lead--so even the first-timers were being taught how to lead-climb at the same time as they were learning how to tie in! Crazy. I climbed OK--I was dehydrated from too much beer at lunch and no water subsequently, but had a good time nonetheless. [In fact, after a couple hours of climbing, I experienced some strange temporary blindness, until I drank 1.5 liters of water in about 5 minutes] Anyways, I thought we were going to be there about 3 hours, then meet back up with Petr and Rachel and Vince (and hopefully my mom and brother, who were scheduled to arrive then) for tea and dinner. Instead, we were at the climbing gym for about 6 hours--until it closed at 10:30. Ahh culture differences! Well, it was great to climb, and fun to do something, some activity, with all-local people, where we didn't even really need to speak the same language--climbing was universal! It was fun to have that connection.

Anyway, by the time I finally made it back to the hostel, David and my mom had already arrived and gone out to diner with everyone (they wisely brought back leftovers for me!) and it was great to see them, since it'd been a really long time. We were all exhausted, so I had one more beer for the day, and we all went to bed.

Saturday was our "be a tourist in Prague" day. We went to all the major sites, took pictures, browsed shops, etc... I was surprised at how touristy Prague was for what was, in my opinion, not a whole lot of really remarkable things. Or maybe I just didn't care as much about statues as those people. Anyway, we had a great and long day, walking, cafeing, talking, etc. That night (last night), since I was leaving this morning, just us Lipps went out to dinner at a really excellent cellar pub, again with excellent and cheap beer. We talked about all sorts of stuff and it felt good to reconnect as a family--we haven't really all seen each other in a long time.

Back at the hostel, we said our goodbyes and packed up. I was to leave in about 4 hours, and the rest were to be off mid-morning, starting the long train journey around Europe. We each had a shot of Absinthe to commemorate the adventure, and that was it! I woke up on time, made it through the extremely-crowded 5:30 AM bus trip to the airport, and made my flight to LHR. There was some security trouble or emergency there, so I almost missed my connection to JFK, but here I am on the flight!

It really was an incredible trip, and one I will remember forever. I was glad to see new places, to hang out with my sister, to start learning Greek, and to have lots of good transcendental plane/boat rides. Hopefully the fruit of these times will be evident soon--already I'm glad to have been working on my "Things that are true" list, since I believe there are a number of valuable insights there, pertaining to the issues I mentioned in the first entry of this journal. So there we have it! Thanks to God for a safe and awesome trip. Amen.

There we have it, indeed. Not a super-exciting trip journal, but I hope it was at least moderately enjoyable. I think I gained the most benefit from just setting aside time periodically to write, and with pen and paper--no computer glare or anything else to do. As I mentioned, though, most of the more intense and focused writing centered around a certain list, which I very simply titled "Things that are true". I'll reproduce that here soon, as the preface to a question I want your help in answering, but first I wanted to get pictures up for you all to look at, which will provide a break from all this text. So stay tuned, pictures coming up!

(this is part V of my recent European trip journal. If you haven't seen them yet, you should read part I, part II, part III, and part IV)

4-4, 11:30 PM, Fira, Santorini

Picking up where we left off...after the sunset, we had an hour's wait in a cold drizzle for the bus back to Fira. When we got the hotel, we bid goodnight to the ladies (and hello to Victor, since he'd been elsewhere all day), and also goodbye, since the girls were scheduled out on a boat the next day. Then I proceeded to have what has been the best sleep of the trip, so far, by far: about 12 hours, with none of that waking-up-at-4am-wide-awake nonsense that sometimes happens.

That brings us to today. Today was somewhat less exciting, but very relaxing. Rachel and I spent most of it wandering around Fira, looking at random shops, drinking coffee, eating crepes, buying books, and so on. I had a lot of time to read and write, and also to play with the numerous dogs which roam freely about Greek streets. For the most part, they are clean, well-behaved, and healthy-looking animals--our tour guide in Athens said the government actually takes care of them! Dogs are great. Anyway, we had a late dinner with Victor, then a few drinks with him and a Canadian couple at an Irish bar here in Fira. I didn't like it--the bar felt fake, with American waitresses and music. I suppose if I'd been gone for longer, I'd have liked it, but it felt wrong in this place, like it was spoilng something. It was there that someone told me that Florida won the NCAA basketball championship vs UCLA--which, if true, means I had a really awesome basketball bracket. Well, time for bed--tomorrow I hope to find a modern Greek Bible, then we're on the afternoon ferry back to Athens, where we'll spend the night. We had to Prague the day after (Thursday)!

(this is part IV of my recent European trip journal. If you haven't seen them yet, you should read part I, part II, and part III)

4-4, 6:05 PM, Fira, Santorini

The last few days have been incredible. The long ferry ride to Santorini was peaceful, and productive. I thought, wandered the boat, stared at the myriad passing islands, read Greek, and watched Howl's Moving Castle. Like all Hayao Miyazaki's films, it was excellent. Like the others, there was a story, but it refused to let you see any character as totally good or bad, or totally on one side or another.

When we got to Santorini, Victor, Deana, and Lisa (new friends from the Athens hostel and tour, respectively) joined us in the ride from the new port up the windy hill road to our hotel at Φίρα (Fira). The accomodations are good--2 beds, couch, bathroom, kitchenette, patio for 20 euros a night per person (Loizos apartments). That first night 4 of us booked an island-hopping boat tour for the next day, then wandered around Fira to find a place to eat. We were persuaded to sit down at a cafe/bar overlooking the sunset-ready sea, where the management ordered some cheap and good gyros from another place, and furnished us with a steady supply of ouzo and beer. We had a downright beautiful show of a sunset, and stayed for hours talking, drinking, laughing, and hanging out with our Albanian waiter, Roland. We got back home after 11, buzzed and ready to fall asleep.

The next morning (Monday, the 3rd), Rachel and I were awake early to buy food supplies at the supermarket with which to avoid paying lots for lunch and breakfast. We readied for the day, which promised to be warm, donning swimsuits and making sandwiches. We took the 600 long steps down to the old port, where we arrived in plenty of time for our 10:30 tour boat departure. The boat took us and the roughly 40 other tourists first to the volcanic island in the middle of what used to be the Santorini atoll [or caldera]. We disembarked and hiked around for an hour and a half, following our tour guide as she pointed out random craters and shared local myths. There was a continuous stream of mumbling from everyone about how difficult the hike was, about which I had many an internal smug smile, since I wasn't breaking a sweat. Rachel was doing equally awesome, too.

Next came one of the more memorable parts of the trip so far. Our boat took us around the volcano (which, incidentally, was the site of the most violent volcanic eruption in recorded history--weighing in at 20 times the power of Hiroshima, the shock wave was heard 3 times by all the earth's inhabitants, as the force of the eruption rippled through the air, around the earth again and again) to a smaller island, where there were reportedly some hot springs. The boat had to stay a ways out from the island because of the rocks, so all those interested in visiting the hot springs were asked to dive into the ocean and swim to shore, where the spring was supposedly just offshore, amidst a patch of brown, sediment-filled water. Everyone who went was required to be a strong swimmer, because it was probably 125-150 meters from where we dropped anchor to the spring. It being by that time a very hot day, I was glad to be the first to dive off the side of the boat and let my muscles pull my smoothly to the springs. I have no real swimming training, though, and so by the time I reached the brown patch, my form was much less than smooth, and I was exhausted. Moreover, there was not a noticeable difference between the ocean's temperature and these "hot" springs, with the result that after I stopped moving, I was cold. [Incidentally, between the springs at last year's dude's camping trip at Big Sur, and now these Greek ones, I have officially sworn off any "hot" springs boasting a temperature of less than 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It's just not worth it.] I was shivering uncontrollably and having a very unpleasant time, so I made my way back to the boat, which was harder due to the current at that location. Nevertheless, moving was much better than sitting still, and when I climbed the boat ladder, my muscles full of lactic acid, I felt refreshed and alive. But even in the hot sun, with my black jacket on, my teeth were chattering for almost the next hour.

The third stop on our tour was the island of Θιράσσια (Thirassia), a gorgeous, rocky-coastlined island with only 300 inhabitants. There we had lunch and I took some time by myself to run up the cliff path and explore the town up there. when I reached the top and wandered alone through the empty streets and through flower-strewn fields, I felt an astounding sense of peace. It seemed that in that place, life and time moved together at the correct speed. I wanted to stay for hours, but our boat was scheduled to leave, so I ran back down the stone path to the dock and we were off.

The fourth and last stop of the day was at the port of Ωια (Ia), and there the 4 of us (me, Rachel, Deana, Lisa) decided to leave the tour and walk up the cliff path to the town, which is one of the most picturesque in all the Greek isles. It was then only mid-afternoon, and we wanted to see the sunset, so we killed time for a while by wandering, sitting in the shade, reading, and napping. Everywhere I looked, beauty attended my glance, and I wore out my camera with photos of houses, churches, the sea, other islands, etc... As sunset neared, we got gyros at a stand and walked to an old tower on a point, from which was supposed to be the best view. Unfortunately, a swift-moving cold front decided to bring many clouds, which blocked the sun and spoiled (we thought) our hope for a beautiful scene. Sadly, we made our way to the bust stop, where we arrived just in time to see the sun dip in between two cloud layers, and light the entire sky with absolutely unreal shades of pink and purple. Had there not been power lines and ugly houses in the way from that spot, it might have been the most beautiful (albeit short) sunset I've seen. Oh well--that's the result of lack of faith!

[Then it was time to leave for dinner...to be continued...]

(this is part III of my recent European trip journal. If you haven't seen them yet, you should read part I and part II)

4-2, 8:11 AM, The Aegean

I slept fitfully last night...it didn't feel like I slept at all, but 5:30 AM eventually did come. Rachel and I were out of the hostel at 6, meeting up with our hostel-mate Victor, who was traveling to Santorini on the same boat as us. We walked the deserted Athens streets and caught the Metro to Peiraias in time to buy a sandwich and board our ferry--a large, cruise-style ferry with first class, cabins, etc... I think it counts as the biggest ship I have ever sailed on. The seats are large and comfortable! When we set sail, I went to the deck and took pictures of the sunrise as we were leaving port. Again, there was a sense of excitement, as well as a sense of deep sadness. Here at this port and in this ocean were spawned the tales of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Great men and adventurers saw the same hills as they worked their sails in the harbor. Then, leaving was actually meaningful--the weather was fickle, and there was never a sure return. Traveling took adventure and commitment. Now, all it takes is 30 euros. The port was bustling this morning, as it would have been 2,500 years ago, but today it was filled with the noise and smell of cars, and the waiting ships spouted black smoke in the air. What sadness! Are there any adventures left? It doesn't seem so. The ocean is a sea of calm, barely a ripple as we glide through. But I wish, just a little, that a storm would come and make things more interesting.

(this is a continuation of my recent trip journal...be sure to read part I if you haven't already)

4-1, 7:30 PM, Athens

So we arrived OK. After a long, cramped ride from Chicago to London, I settled in at British Airways' executive lounge, where Rachel arrived shortly after I did. It was good to see her, and she looked all pro with her backpack and whatnot. We had a long layover, and boarded our plane to Athens around 9:45 PM. We'd tried to talk about how things were going with us [our relationship] in Heathrow, but I was very tired and kind of annoyed so it didn't really go anywhere. It didn't help that I couldn't get my mind off of "my troubles"--made worse in public places, where there are hundreds of girls for me to be constantly evaluating--not sexually or anything, just... [hmm, this one is kind of hard to explain sensibly...]. So, the peace of airplane solitude was definitely broken.

On the seat in front of us on the flight, there was a young Greek woman, and I realized again how attracted I am to foreign girls. Something about speaking other languages just makes them infinitely more beautiful...I wonder if that's something that would wear off, if it's something I should really care about or look for...I don't know. Is it true mystery or just surface mystery? Probably depends [just like with women in my own culture] on the girl.

Anyway, our flight got in on time, and Rach and I found the bus to Syntagma square alright--10 minutes later, and we were waking up the receptionist at our hostel! The room was small but we were tired, and it was after 4 AM. The next day we slept until about 2 PM, then braved the ancient Athens streets for the first time. I was pretty amazed by how close our place was to the center of everything--the Acropolis, the temples, etc... Rach and I found a grocery store and got a loaf of bread and some chicken salad for lunch. Not quite gyros, but cheap. Then we proceeded to get ourselves lost until dinner, taking in the maze of old streets, the views of the agora [the ancient agora] and the acropolis which promised an enjoyable morrow. [Even though] tired, we decided to walk across town to the Lykebatos hill, on which was a church and some awesome views of just-past-sunset Athens. Food there being too expensive, we walked all the way back to our hostel and ate at an estiatorio [restaurant] next door around 9 PM--the meal, which was excellent, lasted till 11 or so!

This morning, being Saturday, the 1st, we woke up relatively early to go on our walking tour. It was as you'd expect such tours would be--a lot of walking interspersed with some ancient monuments. Being some of the most important ancient monuments in the world, it was an incredible experience. In the space of 15 minutes I'd stood where Socrates had taught, and sat where Paul had preached in the Areopagus. So much history I was overwhelmed by it--but the hundreds of other tourists there didn't seem to be--talking, laughing, smoking, littering...on the Areopagus, the stone smelled of cheap beer from a recently-broken bottle. It made me angry at humanity, both specifically for littering there, and more generally for creeping with its ugly modernity over and into places which should have been kept holy as monuments to the more important kinds of progress--philosophical and religious, for example.

In my opinion, to be in ancient Athens and to be anything but in awe is to be disrespectful of our own nature--all that God has given us to be. So in that sense I'm actually quite glad I don't live here--these monuments can thus stay mysterious and far-away, otherworldly. The chattering tourist mob still kind of ruined it for me, but at least my imagination could still conjure up the sights and smells of a bygone era, when people were probably exactly how they were today, in terms of forgetting how to be in awe. Even then, better to have been the pilgrim from a distant village than a desensitized resident of the Acropolis. Well, I'm rambling--I should get Rachel and find a place to eat dinner. Tonight we pack, for tomorrow we leave very early for the boat to Santorini, where we'll spend the next 3 days!

I am back from my week and a half of European travels! I had an excellent time, and a fruitful one, I think. For some reason I decided to keep a travel journal (which I never do), so I thought I might as well refactor it for the weblog. It'll come in 5 or 6 installments, corresponding to the number of entries I wrote over the 11 or so days. I'll probably put a couple of these up a day, so check back often and make sure you haven't missed any! After the travelogue segment, I'll post up some pictures and, most importantly, a special list that I kept adding to throughout the trip (which is referenced at least once in the journal--so just hold your breath). Any post-trip edits will be italicized, and in brackets! I hope reading about the trip is enjoyable in some way... Here we go!

3-29, 10:40 AM, SFO

Well, I don't normally keep a journal of any kind apart from a weblog, but I feel that this trip may be an important one, so here I go. I've spent the last couple days preparing, and I feel that I haven't forgotten anything important. my two major stresses are only that (a) something at Teleios might crash while I'm gone, and (b) I will feel really shy in situations where I can't communicate in Greek or Czech. Grant me grace in both those things!

I have some high hopes for the trip:

• I hope to get to know Rachel better and deepen our relationship significantly.
• I hope to take advantage of solitude on planes and being in new environments to take stock of life.
• I hope to understand and come to grips with my desire to live overseas, to see what is underneath and evaluate why it's important.
• I hope to have many good conversations with God, in a way that only being outside my normal mode of existence can bring.
• I hope to become pretty good at basic Greek.

Grant me success in all these things!

OK, enough for now: time to learn more Greek. By the way, the official soundtrack for the trip is the album Peregrine, by The Appleseed Cast. It is dark and brooding, with occasional flashes of hope amidst chaos. Very representative of my life right now, actually.

In about 12 hours I'll be taking the BART to SFO in order to fly to London, where I'll meet my sister Rachel, who's been doing a little backpacking around the UK. Together we'll fly to Athens and spend about a week there. I've never been to Eastern Europe or the Mediterranean (apart from Barcelona), so I am very excited. Because we at Teleios (soon to be something else, hopefully) have been working furiously in preparation for the official launch of this website and more importantly our learning software, I haven't had much time to focus on learning Greek, but I have been getting a minimal familiarity with the language. Ancient Greek doesn't transfer super-well to understanding Modern, but it's at least a good start, and I'll certainly be able to read street signs for names.

Rachel and I aren't too sure how we're going to spend our days in Greece--we've heard that Athens is cool but not sustainable, so we're going to try and visit some of the Isles or maybe some coast towns on the Peloponnesian.

After Athens, we have a couple days planned in Prague, another place I haven't been. The word on the street is that Prague is almost not cool any more, now that all backpacking college students know it's a good place to visit...but hopefully we'll survive the tourism. Rachel has a friend from Capernwray who lives in Prague, and he has promised to show me where to find the best beer. Excellent!

I'm obviously looking forward to every part of this adventure, but given that a lot of it will involve some cultural or linguistic stresses or awkwardnesses (and given that I'm pretty sensitive to those situations), I'm honestly looking forward, at this very moment, to the plane flights. I think I've mentioned before how plane travel is a very "healing" sort of experience for me. It promotes the kind of solitude that helps me grow, helps me come to grips with myself, what I'm doing at the moment, what I'm doing in life, and so on. Since I've decided not to bring my computer along (can't risk loss or damage), I'm also excited to have some companions who couldn't possibly ask me to do work. I have 5 or 6 books which I hope to finish off, and I also put Howl's Moving Castle on my iPod to watch, which I have been looking forward to seeing for a very long time.

Of course, I'm also very excited to have some extended time with my sister, whom I don't get to see very often, and who I'm sure has changed a lot after this past year of school abroad.

I'm hoping that this trip will help provide clarity in my heart about what sorts of things I love, and maybe provide some clues about what I should be thinking about doing as I look ahead to next year and beyond. I have so many desires and dreams--they need some kind of ordering scheme or I'll never be able to make any decisions that I feel good about. Oh well, I'm rambling...and I've got a lot of packing and e-mail writing to do. If I find a way to get on the inter nets where I'm going, I'll try and check in here. Αδίοσας! (or however it might be spelled)

῞Ωστε, ἀδελφοί μου ἀγαπητοἴ, ἑδραῖοι γίνεσθε, ἀμετακίνητοι, περισσεύοντες ἐν τῷ ἔργῳ τοῦ κυρίου πάντοτε, εἰδότες ὅτι ὁ κόπος ὐμῶν οὐκ ἔστιν κενὸς ἐν κυρίῳ.

The list of bloggable topics on my mind is currently very long, and (I am thinking) very good. Prominent on said list are (a) a long discourse on spiritual discipline and its effects, and (b) an explication of a home-brewed, possibly-heretical theology of creation that Nick and I have been kicking around for a little while and are pretty enchanted by, which seeks to resolve intuitions of a good pre-fall state with what evolutionary history says about nature being "red in tooth and claw"--i.e., vicious and cruel--long before humans arrived on the scene. However, something I saw last night on digg inspired me to push these topics yet further back, and that was a demo for an upcoming game by Maxis (creators of all the Sim games--of which the early SimCity and SimCity 2000 were the most groundbreaking, in my opinion--incidentally, you can play SimCity Classic online here if you have a PC).

Now, I want to preface this whole entry with a bit of history, since to many of you it may come as a shock that for most of my life I have considered myself and been considered by others a "gamer". If you want to skip the history and get to the point, scroll down to "The Reason for this Entry" below.

After looking at Friday's forecast for new snow in Lake Tahoe, my friends Kyle and Dan convinced me to leave at 5am on Friday to get in a good day of skiing/snowboarding at Kirkwood before driving back that evening. It was a good plan, and we were confident that it would lead to a full day of great snowboarding conditions with relatively few people on the slopes. Unfortunately, Nature had several other ideas for how we were to spend our time.

We left reasonably close to the 5am goal and made record time to the central valley, but after making our way up into the hills, things got interesting: a regular blizzard was in session, and the roads were soon quite treacherous after the snow was compacted by tires in the sub-freezing temperatures. At one point we were stopped on a slight incline behind traffic, and when it was time to go, the Civic refused to move forward--traction had disappeared. Luckily, the car behind us happened to be a police officer and so he held traffic while I mustered all my clutch ability and eased into first gear and then to the side of the road where we put chains on the tires for the rest of the climb.

It soon became apparent, as the snow kept piling up, that we were going to have serious problems, and it was indeed so: the pass to Kirkwood was closed for avalanche control, and so we were out of luck. Determined to get on some mountain, we went all the way back down and took another road, intending to find Bear Valley, a lesser resort. The pass was not quite as high on that road, so there was a good chance it wouldn't be closed, and it wasn't!

Of course, though open, the road was still dangerous and the going was slow. Even with chains, the car would slide and fishtail with anything but minor changes in velocity or minor turns of the wheel, making it exhausting to drive many miles at such a slow pace. Eventually, though, we made it through the whiteout (parts of which were so white that it was impossible to make out where the road was and where the snowbanks to the sides of it were) and to Bear Valley, where we were able to get 2 hours of snowboarding in before the slopes closed.

I was exhausted from 7+ hours of driving, and I hadn't been on a board since 2004, so I had quite a few amazing spills--none of which were very dangerous, given the multiple feet of fresh powder there to break my fall! So we had a crazy fun time careening down the mountain and trying to make the most of our short time. Here you can see the snow that accumulated on my car after just that short time (and this was just the residual, post-storm effect):

Another 5 hours of driving (not including the horrendous chain installation/removal events which definitely tried our collective patience), and we were back--a very long, very intense, not-too-snowboarding-filled day! But you have to love these little adventures.

Some people I know have world records in sports, and what have you, but I have just today earned the assuredly-awesome distinction of being the first Standpoint user to reach 1000 beliefs. What is Standpoint? Standpoint is an online community started by my friends Justin and Gentry, which I've been having a lot of fun with recently, and have been able to help along in some small ways.

Basically, Standpoint is an online community organized around formulations of, and reasons given for, beliefs. The basic unit of Standpoint is a "claim", or a proposition, towards which you can take a few attitudes, including belief, consideration, or "disbelief" (which is more complicated). You can create your own claims, believe ones others created, disagree with people, and in general try to have discussions using very short, disjointed, and atomic sentences. At least that's the idea--in practice, people aren't very good at keeping things short, atomic, or well-formed, so it gets interesting (and at times frustrating to the logician-philosopher inside me).

Anyway, I thought that making it to 1000 beliefs was a fun landmark in the short existence of Standpoint--if you want to check my profile out, go to jlipps.standpoint.com. Please do sign up, play around, add your beliefs and reasons, ask to be my friend, etc! Some new features should also be rolling out soon that will greatly enhance the Standpoint experience.

Since it's the title of this weblog, one might guess that I am good at (or otherwise enjoy) recreation. However, I'm experiencing some problems with it. I've just returned from a community dinner up on Skyline (where it snowed briefly for the first time in my six years in this part of the Bay Area!), and have a few hours to spend doing something. My problem is, there are a lot of options. Here's what I've thought about doing so far:

• Read Reality by McGrath
• Work on a song / play guitar
• Play Half-Life 2 on my newly reconstructed PC
• Go next door and watch the Olympics
• Watch a movie
• Sleep early
• Clean up / organize my bedroom
• Work on my constructed language Enaselvai
• Keep working on my modern Greek lessons (in preparation for trip to Athens)
• Write overdue e-mails
• Taxes
• Put my new budget into Quicken
• Drink alcohol
• Get my old reconstruction of English letters out and re-learn it so I can write in "code" again
• Write a weblog entry on the relationship between physical and spiritual training
• Test the current e4 client
• Get my piano (keyboard) out and play beautiful droning melodies until I am lulled to sleep
• Listen to the new Paste sampler

...and I could keep going. You can see I have literally dozens of options. Unfortunately, I've sat here in front of my computer for over 30 minutes just thinking about what to do--and so drain the sands from the hourglass of opportunity. All of these possibilities range from work-related to completely fun/useless, from productive to escapist, but I'm finding it impossible to settle on one thing. Maybe it's the pain of not being able to do others that keeps me from doing one? I'm not sure. Anyway, I thought that while I was sitting here experiencing that pain I might as well chronicle it, so that the absurdity will be made known to the world.

Well, it looks like salvation has come in the form of a phone call--turns out ski jumping is on the Olympics now, and I've been saying all week how I want to watch it, so my choice has been made. But we can make this entry fun yet--out of the list of options I listed, which one would you have picked? Don't be shy now!

Some random experiences from a few days in the Bahamas (from which I am now in the process of returning) spawned this poem, which spilled edit-free from my pen yesterday:

Shapes in clear water when moving
    are blurred and the fuzz provides fear
For unknown says death's always seeking
    and will in the end become near

So sun and life soon are forgotten
    if only for a space of seconds
Heart and mind illusion-smitten
    propel the soul back to the sands

From the shore heartbeats are slower
    Embarrassment looks like the heat of the day
The water is clear, it seems fear need not tower
    O'er a reckless rejoining the fray

But horizon reveals, dark symbols appear
    Omens or fins? both blacker than sky
Recklessness checked, the imagined is here
     It seems a more rational soul would have died

This week, I am in the Bahamas. My friend Nathan Akers is randomly an extra in the next two Pirates of the Caribbean movies, and has a hotel room in Freeport for a while. I decided there needed to be availing of (a) Nathan's company, (b) Nathan's hotel room, and (c) Nathan's hotel's free wireless, and so here I am. No idea what will happen, but so far the company is fun and the drinks are provided by someone else! Cheers.

The view from the hot tub (...of another hotel)

For the last three nights, I stayed up till an average hour of 5am...working. In fact, working on the finishing touches for the site design which, unless you're reading this in an RSS reader, is now before your eyes. So you'd better like it. Anyway, the reason this is somewhat noteworthy is that there's no technical reason I had to do this. Well, a while back I decided to switch servers, which is about a week-long process, and so I set myself the goal of going live with the new design on the day that I'd have to cancel billing for the old server, namely yesterday. It was a somewhat arbitrary goal, but one I knew I would probably need if I was ever going to get stuff done.

I have a tradition (since 2000, I think) where, sometime in the first week of the new year, I drive to see the sunrise at Cocoa beach. I like to spend a few hours watching the beautiful scene, giving myself time and space to pray, meditate, wander around, and generally get centered for the upcoming year.

This year, T-Bone accompanied me to Cocoa, where we were greeted by an absolutely amazing sunrise, replete with a flock of gulls that would zoom and flutter about, putting on an amazing show:

But then, a few minutes later, we saw this:

Look at the middle-left of the image: that's right! A shark was cruising through the water, not 30 feet off the beach (notice the pigeon for scale). Actually, there were two sharks, though I only got a shot of one. The fins were only above water as the waves would break over them, so it was hard to get a good view. Was this shark a sign of some kind? Was God warning us about something?

Later on, not realizing that if two sharks were a sign of anything, they would surely import "DON'T GO IN THE WATER!", T-Bone and I took a swim in the ocean. What could be more relishing than being able to go in the water on January 2nd? It was a bit cold, but quite bearable and refreshing. And, as we have now proven, shark infested. Unless, of course, one of you is a marine biologist and believes the picture is actually of a dolphin.

As 2005, a year that has seen many and incredible changes in my life, draws to a close, I thought it appropriate to mention some of the personal highlights, and make observations about these last 365 days from a perspective blessed with hindsight. So now, in hopefully chronological order, here are the things that were important to me since December 31, 2004 (some significant events being censored to protect certain individuals, of course).

Note: if the event which I am describing has been written about previously on one of my weblogs or something similar, I offer a link to that entry, called "read more...".

Last month's emotional bloodletting was musical. Here is this month's: a paragraph that wants to be a poem when it grows up.

Some violent days the red and rain are all too thunderingly silent, staying stored in Heaven when Earth's ironies are Hellishly blue and clear, spying down on cracked and broken souls that move and labor searching amidst blood for each other to wish wreckage was external, indicating the spiritual state--less existence equals less pain but color is beautiful and cannot be slain (only why won't it rain singing water, rising up to drown unworth?), but grace prevails, the ship sails and souls float, regarding unjustly their inevitability of being, the world a mockery of them and they of it, made now of shimmering sand when floods should rule till penitence dies and comes again in more wrath and less doom, carving channels of whistling light to lands where mirrors give heed to more than sight, and true lenses perceive the matching hue of Heaven and Earth, for the first time: above and below to agree in mirth.

I went to the UK last week with my family, as we wanted to go and see my sister when she got off from her semester at Capernwray hall, and accompany her home for Christmas. We had a wonderful time wandering around the lake district of England, randomly went to a Delirious concert in Liverpool (my mom is friends with the keyboardist), and then hung out a few days in Wales, hiking up mountains and seeing castles and such.

Apart from being pretty sick the first couple days, it was great to be with family, to be relaxing and eating well, and to be tramping about the windswept hills in 0-degree (celsius) weather.

It reminded me how much I love the UK, and being overseas in general. That, plus the generously long (and cocktail-filled) plane flights, made for some good observations and reflections about things I saw or realized last week. I'm hoping to write a few entries on those topics soon. Until then, here are some pictures, so you can at least see what things looked like in general over there.

Pictures from the trip at my .Mac picture site

Over a year ago, I set out on a quest to rate all the songs in my iTunes library. Don't ask me why--I'm a sucker for data, so I had dreams of all the cool scripts I could write and patterns I could find if each song in my library were categorized according to how much I liked it.

I'm not sure exactly how many songs I had then, but it was probably in the vicinity of 5,000. So even if I rated one song a second, it would have taken an hour and a half. What I decided to do, though, to be fair, was to listen to each song fully before rating it. If an average song is 3 minutes, we need to multiply that 1.5 hours by 180--270 hours! I was somewhat optimistic that this 270 hours would pass by quickly while I was working or what not.

I soon discovered that rating songs one-by-one in iTunes was a somewhat inefficient task, given that the only way to rate something was to go into iTunes and click on the little star for that particular song. Not a bad method if you're already in iTunes, but if you are working on something else and would rather not have your workflow interrupted every 3 minutes, it's less than optimal. So I wrote some software (iRateTunes) that let me rate songs with keystrokes, without going to iTunes.

(I also created a little app that showed me info about my iTunes library in the OS X status bar, including the number of songs left to be rated, and the total amount of time I'd spent listening to songs in iTunes. This was so I could monitor my progress)

Still, even with these tools, it was slow going. It turned out that the mental energy required to rate song after song was somewhat exhausting, so if I could get 100 done per day, that was good. Most days I got far fewer songs rated, and some not at all, depending on the intensity required by my work. An even more exhausting task was keeping a consistent standard with which to rate the songs. There are all sorts of options--should the ratings be relative to just the songs in my library? Or should it be relative to all the songs in pop culture? Should I try to keep a nice bell curve, so that there are about as many 1-star songs as 5-star songs, and far more 3-stars than either? In the end, I'm not sure I was super-consistent.

But anyway. Today, over a year after I began, my iTunesCount status bar reads: "6794/0 | 52.74" This means that I have 6794 songs in my library, and 0 are unrated! Finally! The 52.74 lets me know that the total amount of song air time with this iTunes library is 52.74 days (I created the library in July of 2004). That's 1,265 hours! And I don't let iTunes run while I'm not there listening.

Stats per rating category:
1-star: 443 songs (6.5%)
2-star: 801 songs (11.8%)
3-star: 2752 songs (40.5%)
4-star: 1836 songs (27%)
5-star: 962 songs (14.2%)

Given that I've been feeling the way I described in my last entry, I decided that I needed to write music. For me, writing and recording music is one of the only healthy ways I have to deal with frustration of various kinds. So last night around 1am, I sat down with my keyboard and decided to write and record a song. What happened next was amazing--I composed and played something which, more than any other song at the moment I wrote it, mirrored my thoughts and feelings with infinitely better accuracy than any number of words. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this song, in terms of how it describes my emotional state, is worth a million.

I'm in something of a bad state right now, and I'm not sure exactly how I got here or what to do about it. I'm not even going to attempt my typical philosophical analysis, partly because of apathy and partly because I'm pretty sure it won't help. Instead, I'm going to use over-dramatic words to deliver a sense of what I am feeling. You may want to stop reading now.