<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329</id><updated>2011-07-30T19:27:35.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the places you'll go</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-8957909741023144071</id><published>2010-05-13T13:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T13:09:30.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm getting spammed hard... so I moved... this won't be the same though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://musichaha.tumblr.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-8957909741023144071?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8957909741023144071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=8957909741023144071' title='32 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8957909741023144071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8957909741023144071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-getting-spammed-hard.html' title=''/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>32</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-6995112109443876459</id><published>2010-01-18T01:20:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T01:52:07.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grand Schemer</title><content type='html'>When I was younger, I used to be a schemer. The quality of my character was probably derived from my wild imagination - an imagination birthed from listening to Fred Penner on vinyl over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For as long as I can remember, I would lie in bed planning my great escape. When sleep failed to arrive, it was usually due to the fact that I was coming up with an elaborate strategy on how I would run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These mind games would be initiated by any number of circumstances and feelings. Sometimes I was angry at my family and I didn't want to belong there anymore. Sometimes I simply felt trapped within the confines of my covers and needed a way to escape. Often, it was simply born out of a sense of adventure - an urge to eject oneself from the mundane life an eight year old boy who lived and went to school in small town Ontario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The schemes started out simple. I would pack my school bag with the essentials; a loaf of bread, clean underwear and a flashlight. Then, super puppy (my stuffed dog) and I would don our capes and bike to Beaner's Bush were we'd construct a fort and live in a society loosely based around fictional Lost Boys of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Peter Pan. &lt;/span&gt;Then as I moved into my teens, the plans became slightly more "sensible." I would take a trip to the bank, withdraw the money that was my grandad's inheritance, bike to Owen Sound (a 45 minute car ride), and then catch a bus to who knows where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day my plans became action. I packed up my belongings and with the assistance of my parents, drove to the other end of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the late night planning sessions ended. There was no more trying to escape, I was already free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is... until recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep tonight because I have been planning my next big escape. That sentence makes it sound more glorious than it should it be. In fact, this is not a grandiose escape or some call for adventure. I do not really know what it is, but it is ugly. It reeks with the stench of failure and brings shudders to those who look upon it. It is haunting, like a ghost with nothing better to do than torment for a simple sense of purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this mind game has been called into existence by the uncertainty of what is to come within the next 6 months. Perhaps its here because of a fear of whats to come and what is to be dealt with. Perhaps it has come because the imagination of a young child has been reignited in my mind by the fresh presence of a record player in our living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, it is terrifying and it is keeping me awake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-6995112109443876459?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6995112109443876459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=6995112109443876459' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6995112109443876459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6995112109443876459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2010/01/grand-schemer.html' title='The Grand Schemer'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2551670256285990937</id><published>2009-09-15T18:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T18:18:17.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>same old</title><content type='html'>&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=66855&amp;artist_username=haha" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2551670256285990937?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2551670256285990937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2551670256285990937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2551670256285990937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2551670256285990937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/09/same-old.html' title='same old'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-1497009214493757799</id><published>2009-07-12T15:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T15:53:41.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what I've been doing instead of blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=58561&amp;artist_username=haha" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-1497009214493757799?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1497009214493757799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=1497009214493757799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1497009214493757799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1497009214493757799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-ive-been-doing-instead-of-blogging.html' title='what I&apos;ve been doing instead of blogging'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-5807340917047689124</id><published>2009-06-28T19:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T19:49:57.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's just sunk in how screwed up my value system is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-5807340917047689124?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5807340917047689124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=5807340917047689124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5807340917047689124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5807340917047689124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-just-sunk-in-how-screwed-up-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7280564539384223443</id><published>2009-06-21T23:37:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T23:44:29.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made a remix!</title><content type='html'>So I just finished my second ever remix! (the first one is just embarrassing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, check it out here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=56315&amp;artist_username=thetremulance" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you'd like, check out the original here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/thetremulance"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.myspace.com/thetremulance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you should go buy the new Tremulance Record "Polaroids" Out everywhere... more realistically though... you can order it at HMV and download off iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7280564539384223443?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7280564539384223443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7280564539384223443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7280564539384223443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7280564539384223443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-made-remix.html' title='I made a remix!'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-5135751535164801969</id><published>2009-06-18T10:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T10:03:23.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Out For Us Cyclists!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ubNF9QNEQLA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ubNF9QNEQLA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-5135751535164801969?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5135751535164801969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=5135751535164801969' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5135751535164801969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5135751535164801969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/06/look-out-for-us-cyclists.html' title='Look Out For Us Cyclists!'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2715855290087763744</id><published>2009-06-05T04:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T04:25:13.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>books worth reading</title><content type='html'>When I started writing in this blog, I was going to write about different books that I've read. Needless to say, I've done a horrible job at this. There have been plenty of books that I have read that I think are well worth the read. I guess you should just ask sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I just finished this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kitschatter.files.wordpress.com/2008/02/0251_threecups_d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 317px;" src="http://kitschatter.files.wordpress.com/2008/02/0251_threecups_d.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that fact that it made the point that I'm not really doing anything with my life right now, this book was well worth the read. I would recommend it to anyone, especially people who do not understand a thing about areas of the world such as Pakistan and Afghanistan. There's even a children's version of the book. Check it out little ones reading my blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should give a brief summary. Greg Mortesen, after a failed attempt of climbing K2, finds himself recovering in the small village of Korphe in the  Himalayan Mountains of Pakistan. When he asks the village what he could do to repay them for their hospitality, Mortesen is asked to buid a school for Korphe. The rest of the book tells the story of Mortesen raising money for the school, returning to Pakistan, and eventually being asked to build more schools. It is an amazing story of both self-sacrifice, and a creative approach to peace buidling that doesn't use violence. (So far it's the best approach I've heard to the war on terror.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, read it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2715855290087763744?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2715855290087763744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2715855290087763744' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2715855290087763744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2715855290087763744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/06/books-worth-reading.html' title='books worth reading'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3104050989317791268</id><published>2009-05-04T23:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T23:40:12.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Messages</title><content type='html'>The following is an article my friend shared with me on the distribution of Bibles in Afghanistan by American Soldiers, followed by my response to him. Let me know what you think of both the article and the response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Article&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://english.aljazeera.net/news/asia/2009/05/2009542250178146.html"&gt;Read this first: US army 'does not promote religion' (Al Jazeera)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Response:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"hmm, this is really interesting. I'm not even really sure how to respond to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, Al Jazerra is at fault for making the huge generalization that the America Army, as a whole, is responsible for the propagation of conversion. It's obvious that not every soldier nor every american is a christian and feels the need to convert as many muslims as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, what place does the American government have to tell these soldiers they are not allowed to share their beliefs. Don't get me wrong, I not sure these soldiers and chaplains were being very smart about the whole situation, but let's face it, sharing your faith is a core and essential component to the Christian faith. In doing this, the American government is only offering a conditional freedom of religion. If a freedom is conditional, is it really true freedom? The whole issue reminds me of Pax Romana. Is peace inforced by the military really true peace? &lt;span class="text_exposed_hide"&gt;... &lt;span class="text_exposed_link"&gt;&lt;a onclick="'CSS.addClass($("&gt;Read more&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing really strengthens the argument &lt;/span&gt;for pacifism. How can a christian don the uniform of an organization that is not only killing people, but denying them their responsibility to be christian witnesses. I guess it goes along with Jesus' teaching, "you cannot serve two masters." Perhaps you cannot be in the military and be a witness in the Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end though, I don't see&lt;span class="text_exposed_hide"&gt;... &lt;span class="text_exposed_link"&gt;&lt;a onclick="'CSS.addClass($("&gt;Read more&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt; why everyone is getting so upset about distributing a text that is seen as part of the Muslim scriptures to Muslims...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you think when you were reading this? Is anything I'm saying making sense to you or do you think I'm way off?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;So what do you think? Let's have a conversation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3104050989317791268?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3104050989317791268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3104050989317791268' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3104050989317791268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3104050989317791268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/05/mixed-messages.html' title='Mixed Messages'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-4606290104204489475</id><published>2009-04-06T12:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T12:37:36.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Arcade Fire</title><content type='html'>When I saw this version of Wake Up in the Arcade Fire's new film, Mirror Noir, it gave me goose bumps. I then grabbed my phone and texted my friend Jamison, instructing him to immediately commence watching the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that you should watch Mirror Noir. (They're currently streaming it on Pitchfork.tv as part of their "One Week Only" series.) It's done by the same guys who put together all of these blogotheque movies I show you and it's utterly beautiful. Here's a taste of it for now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-5XK-2Ufd4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-5XK-2Ufd4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-4606290104204489475?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4606290104204489475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=4606290104204489475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4606290104204489475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4606290104204489475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/04/arcade-fire.html' title='The Arcade Fire'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2357373787839891015</id><published>2009-04-04T00:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T00:17:18.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Questioning Our Motives</title><content type='html'>Here is some interesting news in reference to the war in Afghanistan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090309/FOREIGN/614496422/1117/NEWS"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090309/FOREIGN/614496422/1117/NEWS"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090309/FOREIGN/614496422/1117/NEWS"&gt;If recent weeks are anything to go by, it looks like violence could escalate far beyond the record levels it hit last year. In January and February, the number of American troop fatalities increased threefold compared with the same period in 2008. Meanwhile, according to the Associated Press, foreign soldiers were responsible for more civilian deaths in those first two months than the insurgents.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;In other words, Associated Press is reporting that Allied forces in Afghanistan are killing more civilians than the Taliban did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is violence really the best option, or have we not yet learned that Pax Romana is not really peace?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2357373787839891015?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2357373787839891015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2357373787839891015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2357373787839891015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2357373787839891015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/04/questioning-our-motives.html' title='Questioning Our Motives'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2500437988625369509</id><published>2009-03-26T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T14:25:35.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My current view on Twitter</title><content type='html'>Thanks to a friend for pointing this one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PN2HAroA12w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PN2HAroA12w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2500437988625369509?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2500437988625369509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2500437988625369509' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2500437988625369509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2500437988625369509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-current-view-on-twitter.html' title='My current view on Twitter'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-4781384446672767710</id><published>2009-03-19T11:33:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T17:14:14.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The good things in life.</title><content type='html'>Wow, I just realized that a lot has happened in my life since my last post. It's more of that stuff that I don't really want to talk about in public. If you really want to know what's been going on and you know me, send me an email or something and I'll try to bring you up to speed. As for the rest of you nameless peoples, just know - for the sake of the rest of this post - that a lot has gone on in my life over the past month. It's been as one of my friends described, an emotional roller coaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've got this emotional roller coaster going, and school is throwing a whole bunch of work at me quite suddenly. I'm working on my third paper of this week right. It's a 9 pager due tomorrow and when it's done, I need to get right started on another. On top of all this, I have a two fairly large events coming up at school that I'm organizing and putting on. My stress levels are rising and at the same time, my bank account is dropping... significantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's particularly rough right now because of the classes I have. Namely, all of my classes have little or nothing to do with what I want to end up doing - whatever that may be. I know I don't want to be a pastor, or a youth pastor, or a worship pastor, or a glorified overseas pastor (we call them missionaries here), so doing a paper on correctly interpreting the book of Jonah, or learning about church history... all of these things seem pointless to me. I lack so much motivation right now, its not in the least bit funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the problem that I don't know where I'm going in life. This gets me down. I started out the year wanting to do something that would change the world in some sort of significant way. Now I just want to find a really good paying job to comfortably support some future family that, I keep having to remind myself, doesn't exist yet. And what ever I end up doing, I don't want to become a pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this has turned into a whine fest and that was never the intent. I apologize for boring you with my complaints. Here is where I meant to go with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking to the public library yesterday with all of these things weighing heavily upon me - in the rain I might add - when I started noticing a few things. For starters, I was listening to my favorite Wilco song, "I'm Just Trying to Break Your Heart." Aside from the simple fact that both the band and the record are beautiful in and of itself, the song is simply amazing. It was also in this moment that I caught a glimpse of a grandmother playing with her toddler grandson in the front window of there simple duplex. The song, paired with moment shared between the child, grandmother, and unknown bystander was exactly what I needed in that moment. It was a gift from God, showing me the simple fact that there are still very good things in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reflected on this brief moment in time, I realized how necessary it is for me to remember the good things in life, however simple they may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edit:&lt;/span&gt; I just realized the I may have offended somebody by calling missionaries "glorified overseas pastors." Pleas don't take offense, what I wrote was written out of a little but of bitterness and frustration. I think there are many noble missionaries out there who do a lot of good for the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-4781384446672767710?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4781384446672767710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=4781384446672767710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4781384446672767710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4781384446672767710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-things-in-life.html' title='The good things in life.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-635734104684543182</id><published>2009-02-04T00:06:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T00:42:20.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Throat Singing Cellphones.</title><content type='html'>Before I get to far into this, I have a confession to make. After my fairly lengthily entry, posted in August, on &lt;a href="http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-i-am-not-going-to-buy-cellphone.html"&gt;why I do not own a cellphone&lt;/a&gt;, I feel a certain responsibility to fess up. On Friday, I went out and picked up a cellphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is the part where I begin issuing forth a number of excuses for my hypocrisy. The truth is, I don't really want to offer any sort of excuse, I feel as if I do not need to justify anything. In fact, if I were to offer an excuse, it would be as simple as stating that the original article was written at a time where I genuinely felt that I had no use for a cellphone. To avoid further detail that is not really relevant or even really interesting to the reader, I will simply say that my needs - and I'll admit - desires for owning a cell phone have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that that is out of the way, the only thing remaining for me to do is to remove the no cellphones sticker from my guitar case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other - non-related news, let's move on to throat singing (which isn't really news at all).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following group, Huun Huur Tu, is a group of musicians from the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuva"&gt;Republic of Tuva&lt;/a&gt;, a country I had never heard of until my discovery of the group. I stumbled across Huun Huur Tu in my YouTube searches for Tibetan music during my long Christmas break. Tibetean music lead to throat singing, which lead to Mongolian music, which lead to Huun Huur Tu. Upon discovery of Huun Huur Tu, I set out to find any recorded music I could of them. This lead me to the beautiful record "Fly, Fly My Sadness," - a record more than worth finding. The record is filled with harmonized throat singing, chourses of singers, and errie stringed melodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following videos are examples of the sort of sound these musicians create. The first is an example of harmonized throat signing. The second is an example of throat singing whistleing. Both kinds of throat singing are foreign to me and I'd be the first to admit I know nothing about them, but it is certainly enjoyable to listen to and appreciate, so I thought I would share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bVkJ1Bf-QzU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bVkJ1Bf-QzU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RxK4pQgVvfg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RxK4pQgVvfg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-635734104684543182?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/635734104684543182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=635734104684543182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/635734104684543182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/635734104684543182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/02/throat-singing-cellphones.html' title='Throat Singing Cellphones.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-9187083617094163587</id><published>2009-01-21T12:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T12:52:55.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Album of 2009 so far.</title><content type='html'>Merriweather Post Pavilion was more than worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NncmILE_7mQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NncmILE_7mQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-9187083617094163587?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9187083617094163587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=9187083617094163587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/9187083617094163587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/9187083617094163587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/01/best-album-of-2009-so-far.html' title='Best Album of 2009 so far.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-1740606980748882039</id><published>2009-01-18T19:41:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T19:42:13.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plug</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://5.media.tumblr.com/IzmXmUK5kir7wgywtJWNHyeNo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 518px;" src="http://5.media.tumblr.com/IzmXmUK5kir7wgywtJWNHyeNo1_400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-1740606980748882039?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1740606980748882039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=1740606980748882039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1740606980748882039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1740606980748882039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2009/01/plug.html' title='Plug'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-6135087790048188749</id><published>2008-12-28T15:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T15:09:41.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Quick Thought</title><content type='html'>Sin, I believe, is merely the absence of love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-6135087790048188749?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6135087790048188749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=6135087790048188749' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6135087790048188749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6135087790048188749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/12/quick-thought.html' title='A Quick Thought'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-4071676978875922616</id><published>2008-12-22T15:19:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T15:21:49.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm reading way too much</title><content type='html'>The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;- Wilhelm Stekel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-4071676978875922616?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4071676978875922616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=4071676978875922616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4071676978875922616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4071676978875922616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-reading-way-too-much.html' title='I&apos;m reading way too much'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-6233410027012343215</id><published>2008-12-02T03:17:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T03:25:49.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Breaking of Bread"</title><content type='html'>This one is for you Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, let me give you some context for this post. This post in an excerpt from a paper I recently wrote on Acts 2:42-47. This passage describes the first group of Messianic Jews in Jerusalem after the day of Pentecost. This excerpt talks about how they would "break bread" in each others' homes and discuses a little bit of the theology behind the idea of communion. Its some food for thought - if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, if you have any questions, or would like to know the sources I used in the paper, please don't hesitate to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The second act of worship seen in both verses 42 and 46 is “breaking of bread.” This is commonly mistaken for the sacrament of communion performed in the church today. “Rather, Luke recalls the practice of devout Jewish families who following temple worship would share meals together as symbolic of their social and spiritual solidarity” (Soards 72). The “breaking of bread” refers to a common Jewish practice that would take place at a communal meal. “The Jewish practice of saying grace before a meal includes taking a loaf of bread, giving thanks, breaking it, and distributing it (Matt. 14:19). To “break bread” could designate a common meal” (Freedman 199). This does not mean, however, that what the new believers were doing in acts was not completely isolated from what Jesus Christ commanded them to do at the last supper (Luke 22:14-20). “Probably the best understanding is to see [breaking of bread] as a combination of the two – an agape meal (as noted in 1 Corinthians 11:20-34) followed by the Lord’s Supper” (Janzen 24). This has profound implications for the way the church practices breaking of bread now. Perhaps, when Christ called his church to remember him every time we break bread and take the cup, he was not referring to when the church participated in the sacrament of communion every first Sunday of the month. Instead, perhaps Jesus was calling his church to remember him every time they gathered together - with each other, with their friends, with their families - to simply to eat and drink. Perhaps then, the Lord’s Supper should not just be reserved for every first Sunday of month. Instead, maybe remembrance of Jesus should take place at breakfast, lunch and dinner.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-6233410027012343215?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6233410027012343215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=6233410027012343215' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6233410027012343215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6233410027012343215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/12/breaking-of-bread.html' title='&quot;Breaking of Bread&quot;'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-8109182082319639310</id><published>2008-11-30T16:08:00.007-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T18:33:17.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Morning Light</title><content type='html'>I got the privilege of helping my dear friend Jamison Dick record a song for his newest record. It's finished and I'm so stoked on it that I couldn't help but share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is First Morning Light by &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/Two-Bicycles/6307912349?ref=ts"&gt;Two Bicycles&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=37106" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="120" width="310"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-8109182082319639310?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8109182082319639310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=8109182082319639310' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8109182082319639310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8109182082319639310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/11/first-morning-light.html' title='First Morning Light'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7887127104343044391</id><published>2008-11-25T01:21:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T01:34:36.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless night, why do you haunt me?</title><content type='html'>I am told to look to the lilies and the birds. See how they are fed? They do not worry about how they will look or what they will eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not see them. I am emerged in a pile of numbers. Numbers we worship. Digits have become our gods and banks are their temples. The phone bill is just chapter 1 in the holy scriptures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an idolater. I worship the god of worry, if ever such a god existed. Worry is not a kind god. He rules my life with such fist that cannot be stopped except by the song of a bird, the fragrance of a lily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the birds? Where are the lilies?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7887127104343044391?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7887127104343044391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7887127104343044391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7887127104343044391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7887127104343044391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/11/sleepless-night-why-do-you-haunt-me.html' title='Sleepless night, why do you haunt me?'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-160633314934962787</id><published>2008-11-19T10:11:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T10:46:43.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting all one's oats into a basket</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526691_3929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 432px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526691_3929.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So you may be asking, "Hey Greg, what have you been up to lately?" Well today I have an answer for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My good friends Jamison, Alex and I are working on a little creative project we like to call "Oats". We're writing a record and we are trying to involve as many of our friends as we can. Usually, an Oats recording session will look like the following. Jamison will be singing and playing guitar. Alex will be scribing, singing and playing a mean harmonica (but only if we're playing in C) or the glockenspiel. I'll be playing some sort of drum or slide instrument. Someone will be keeping time on a beer bottle or tape measure. Finally, &lt;a href="http://jordanshawphotography.com/"&gt;Jordan Shaw&lt;/a&gt; will be there taking his usually amazing pictures. (By the way, all these pictures were taken by Jordan Shaw) We've had people come play the Casio, additional guitars, egg shakers, etc, etc, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526687_2709.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 432px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526687_2709.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our most recent song we recorded last night at the Art House over a couple of beers and in the company of "the art cat" who, during our time of jam, decided to climb all the way up the drapes of the window in order to get the Christmas lights above. The song involved Jamison and I on guitar while Jamison and Alex sung lyrics adapted from &lt;a href="http://adamroper.tumblr.com/"&gt;Adam Roper&lt;/a&gt;'s poem, "Red Benches." The song is beautiful, and I don't if this is conceited to say at all, by I can not stop listening to it. (&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Oats/47483630119"&gt;By the way, we just put it up on our facebook page and you can listen to it there&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of this little project is that it is done communally. After we finished the recording and shut off the computer, we all began to discuss how important this "community" thing is important to the creative process. The truth is that an hour before we were over at the Art House, we were at my house trying to write for the record. The outcome of that attempt was chaotic at best. It wasn't until we were at the Art House, in the presence of our dear friends Jordan, Adam, and the "Art Cat" that the creative juices really began to flow. When it came to lyrics, we happened to have one of Adam's poetry books open before us and that is when the suggestion came to use his words in the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oats" is about community, and I starting to believe that the best art is done communally. And that is what WE have been up to as of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526686_9677.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 432px; height: 289px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1526686_9677.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-160633314934962787?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/160633314934962787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=160633314934962787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/160633314934962787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/160633314934962787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/11/putting-all-ones-oats-into-basket.html' title='Putting all one&apos;s oats into a basket'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-8223220996676661417</id><published>2008-11-11T01:03:00.004-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T01:09:15.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SRlLrG9m30I/AAAAAAAAABc/tb83Ib6afwk/s1600-h/DSCI0127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SRlLrG9m30I/AAAAAAAAABc/tb83Ib6afwk/s400/DSCI0127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267324443161976642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Since when did "home" become such a  foreign place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-8223220996676661417?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8223220996676661417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=8223220996676661417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8223220996676661417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/8223220996676661417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/11/1-month.html' title='1 Month'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SRlLrG9m30I/AAAAAAAAABc/tb83Ib6afwk/s72-c/DSCI0127.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3855167183316977190</id><published>2008-10-28T17:28:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T17:37:59.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Couple of Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://jordanshawphotography.com/"&gt;Jordan Shaw&lt;/a&gt; is brilliant. This is what we like to call the Art House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1435104_620.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 244px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v363/195/41/517657510/n517657510_1435104_620.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend &lt;a href="http://givememoments.tumblr.com/"&gt;Jamison loves Polaroid moments&lt;/a&gt;. Jordan took this picture on an evening of story and song. (Like I've said, my friends are brilliant). Jamison made it Polaroid style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-769.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v346/78/74/511759769/n511759769_854628_1574.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 434px;" src="http://photos-769.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v346/78/74/511759769/n511759769_854628_1574.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3855167183316977190?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3855167183316977190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3855167183316977190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3855167183316977190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3855167183316977190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/10/couple-of-photos.html' title='A Couple of Photos'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-4300433667898635095</id><published>2008-10-27T17:59:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T18:43:58.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Blogotheque #2 and a side note.</title><content type='html'>Straight up, I'm addicted to &lt;a href="http://www.blogotheque.net/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Efa8HZW66Fk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Efa8HZW66Fk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm not writing as much - if you haven't noticed. Part of this is because I'm writing for school enough for the both of us. Also, the last piece I wrote was a disaster. So for now, you can enjoy what other people have to say. I'll help you out when I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-4300433667898635095?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4300433667898635095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=4300433667898635095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4300433667898635095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4300433667898635095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/10/la-blogotheque-2-and-side-note.html' title='La Blogotheque #2 and a side note.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7491548862096016451</id><published>2008-10-26T10:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T10:25:39.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LaBlogotheque + Bon Iver = Solid Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/x5Swa9CYgRk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/x5Swa9CYgRk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7491548862096016451?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7491548862096016451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7491548862096016451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7491548862096016451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7491548862096016451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/10/lablogotheque-bon-iver-solid-gold.html' title='LaBlogotheque + Bon Iver = Solid Gold'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7372723692649949273</id><published>2008-10-24T17:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T17:53:52.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends are Brilliant</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OtsMQiadcuM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OtsMQiadcuM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7372723692649949273?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7372723692649949273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7372723692649949273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7372723692649949273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7372723692649949273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-friends-are-brilliant.html' title='My Friends are Brilliant'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2251632180890949066</id><published>2008-08-25T00:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:59:23.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into prunning hooks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.resisters.ca/soldier-clear.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.resisters.ca/soldier-clear.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so saying anything on this topic is really risky. I could face a lot of back lashing for my opinions on war, peace, and the military. That being said, I'm willing right now to take that risk and draw attention to this very important issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War resistors are members of the military who, for some reason or another, have fled the military. The cause for doing so may be because they object the war going on. Others are fleeing because the thought of killing people doesn't sit right with them and they only joined the military because of financial pressure. There are many other reasons for fleeing the military.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canada has had a long history with supporting war resistors. Canada was the place to be during the Vietnam war. (We could argue all day about whether or not there even is such a thing as a just war, but most would agree that Vietnam was not a just war). However, Canada's recent history with war resistors has not been so glorious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a number of resistors in Canada now who are facing deportation. Upon arriving in America, they will face a court martial, time served in jail, and possibly even the death penalty in some states. I don't believe this is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please go to &lt;a href="http://www.resisters.ca/index_en.html"&gt;http://www.resisters.ca/index_en.html&lt;/a&gt;, for more information.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2251632180890949066?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2251632180890949066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2251632180890949066' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2251632180890949066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2251632180890949066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/they-beat-their-swords-into-plowshares.html' title='They beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into prunning hooks'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-6980085101963244927</id><published>2008-08-15T14:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T16:45:32.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I am Not Going to Buy a Cellphone</title><content type='html'>Call me old fashioned, but I still have not given into the cellphone trend. I have been called a hippy, felt pressure from friends who love to text, I've even felt looked down upon by co-workers and employers for not being responsible and getting a cellphone - the supposedly necessary tool for any job. (That and a &lt;a href="http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/sin-and-consequences-of-not-supporting.html"&gt;vehicle&lt;/a&gt; of some sort.) The best cellphone related instance happened the other week when I was setting up the land-line for my new apartment. The customer service representative wanted my number in case they needed to contact me. A problem arose when I didn't have one to give him, it could have been why I was talking to him in the first place. He asked if I had a cellphone or anything. I said no and he was most surprised. If it wasn't for the fact that I could give him the number of the family I was staying with, I maybe wouldn't have gotten a phone line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1987, Wendell Berry wrote a provocative and challenging essay entitled "&lt;a href="http://home2.btconnect.com/tipiglen/berrynot.html"&gt;Why I am Not Going to Buy a Computer&lt;/a&gt;" (please read). It was published in his collection of essays, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What Are People For?&lt;/span&gt; in 1990. The essay makes the point that Berry really has no need to buy a computer and that if he were to purchase one, he would be supporting a whole slew of issues surrounding the making, usage, and disposal of a computer. I have realized that many of Berry's arguments for not owning a computer are similar to my own arguments for not owning a cellphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berry argues, "The new tool should be cheaper than the one it replaces." This is too easy to agree with, especially being a low income student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A land-line costs me approximately $20 a month plus an additional $10 every few months for a long distance card, (and yes the plastic card you get can be recycled). I am not sure how much the phone itself costs as my roommate already had it in possession, but you can pick one up at your local thrift store for under $5. What's more is that the phone plan can be split between the occupants of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cellphone plans usually start at about $25 a month for very basic service with limited minutes, additional minutes costing upwards of 35¢ and this of course does not include the ridiculous long distance rates. The cheapest cellphone I was able to find was $19.99. All of this, you have to pay yourself, unless you are able to split a cellphone 4 ways. (Please note, prices are based off of Rogers Wireless website - the cellphone service provider most of my friends use).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berry goes on and says, "[the tool] should do work that is clearly and demonstrably better than the one it replaces." In other words, a cellphone should work better than a land-line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The argument from most of my friends is that I would be easier to contact, therefore making me more social, if I only had a cellphone. However, I would say that already, I'm a pretty social guy not to mention very reachable. You can first try my land line and if I'm not home, it usually indicates that I'm busy doing something and probably won't be able to hang out. On the other hand, I may just be on my way back from picking up groceries and would love to go catch a movie, or whatever. If you leave a message on my answering machine or with one of my roommates, I'll get back to you right away. Failing all of that, we live in the generation of Facebook, MSN, and email, (all of which I sometimes consider maybe being a bit excessive, but that's another blog post).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another argument Berry makes is the argument of environmental sensitivity. He points out, "It is well understood that technological innovation always requires the discarding of the old 'model.'" For example, if my roommates and I were to all have cellphones, that would make 4 cellphones. These 4 cellphones would be doing the job of one land-line, making the old plug into the wall phone obsolete and on a direct flight to the already overfilled land where we dump our obsolete technology and plastic packaging it came in. In a year or so, the battery dies on our cellphone and we decide that instead of buying a new battery - which costs half the price of a new cellphone - we go out and buy the new cellphone that can play our music, take pictures and give us directions in the car. Now we can send our old cellphones, mp3 players, cameras and GPS systems to that same overfilled dump, wherever that dump is. Also, with cellphones, we need new cell towers which means clearing another section of forest so we can put up a cell tower which emit microwaves and RF frequencies that mess with the bees sense of direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is where I receive the most criticism for my argument against cell phones. Research suggest that a recent and sudden decrease in the bee population is a result from cellphones. Don't believe me? &lt;a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/environment/nature/are-mobile-phones-wiping-out-our-bees-444768.html"&gt;Check out this article from The London Independent.&lt;/a&gt; "And so what?" you say, "Less bee stings, no more honey? Oh no." No it's much worse than that. Bees are important because the pollinate a large portion of our crops and plants. We are talking about major food shortages. Einstein is quoted in the above article saying that if the bees were to disappear "man would have only four years of life left."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about cancer from cell phones? There has been &lt;a href="http://www.citynews.ca/news/news_21215.aspx"&gt;some research&lt;/a&gt; done pointing to cellphones as a leading cause for brain tumors and brain damage. However, &lt;a href="http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/cellphones"&gt;this article from the National Cancer Institute&lt;/a&gt; points out that it is hard to collect any hard evidence that cellphones are any significant cause of cancer simply because use of cellphones is fairly recent. My argument is this; We, at a point in recent history, thought asbestos and #7 Nalgenes were benign and harmless. Unfortunately, we were very wrong. Should we really be using something if we don't fully know it's effects on us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, and probably my most favorite argument, Berry says that new technology "should not replace or disrupt anything good that already exists, and this includes family and community relationships." Sorry for using the over used cliché, but if I had a dime for every  conversation I have had with a friend that was interrupted by a cellphone call or text, I wouldn't be taking out loans to pay for school. How many experiences have you had where you are having a conversation with someone and they start texting someone. My argument is that cellphones disrupt relationships. Furthermore, they distance us from people. When we need to talk to someone, instead of walking upstairs, outside, next door, or wherever, we call them on their cell. Isn't nice to know that your very being and presence has been replaced by none other than an overpriced piece of circuitry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this why I am not going to buy a cellphone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-6980085101963244927?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6980085101963244927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=6980085101963244927' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6980085101963244927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6980085101963244927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-i-am-not-going-to-buy-cellphone.html' title='Why I am Not Going to Buy a Cellphone'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7926716953222227762</id><published>2008-08-08T00:34:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T17:17:05.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Midnight Music</title><content type='html'>Here's a pretty exciting discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my very favorite artists, Iron and Wine, has recently posted recordings of his live performances at a site called &lt;a href="http://www.playedlastnight.com/artists/artist/2/Iron_Wine"&gt;Played Last Night&lt;/a&gt;. These recordings offer a fresh approach to his music that stretch beyond the still calm duo of himself and his guitar and explores the use of many different and unique musical instruments and styles, plus they have that unbeatable feel of a live show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to pay for music? There are a couple of tracks streaming at &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendid=3800361"&gt;Iron and Wine's Myspace&lt;/a&gt;, Check it out there at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.playedlastnight.com/dispatch/_depot/artist/f89f3cdd3f2b39a003f7e3813e007ae6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.playedlastnight.com/dispatch/_depot/artist/f89f3cdd3f2b39a003f7e3813e007ae6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Picture by Kathryn Yu - www.kathrynyu.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7926716953222227762?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7926716953222227762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7926716953222227762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7926716953222227762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7926716953222227762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/more-midnight-music.html' title='More Midnight Music'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-484827650925294845</id><published>2008-08-07T01:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T01:07:42.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to proof-read</title><content type='html'>Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please check out this song and all the other Adam Faucett songs you can find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=13521" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-484827650925294845?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/484827650925294845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=484827650925294845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/484827650925294845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/484827650925294845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need-to-proof-read.html' title='I need to proof-read'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-7310444897032948425</id><published>2008-08-04T11:43:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T01:05:23.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is Greg</title><content type='html'>So the month of July is over so it is time to recap July's Poll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month I asked the question, "Who is Greg?" and six people voted. One thought Greg was Super G, another person does not know me, and the remaining 4 people decided that Greg was a none of the above kind of guy. All together, this totals 98% of the votes, which leads me to believe that 2% of Greg does not exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month, I'm going to refer back to the Matrix movies. After a crazy night of talking computers, industrial music, mysterious girls, and interrogations with Agent Smith,  Morpheus confronts and asks you to take the red pill or the blue pill. The red pill would take you further on your crazy adventure or, as Morpheus puts it, "further down the rabbit hole." The blue pill would put you back in your bed the next morning and you would wake up as if nothing would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which would you choose?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-7310444897032948425?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7310444897032948425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=7310444897032948425' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7310444897032948425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/7310444897032948425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/who-is-greg.html' title='Who is Greg'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-370054560729403094</id><published>2008-07-26T01:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T01:46:55.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Challenged in the Field of Creativity</title><content type='html'>Usually when you hear a remix - or a cover - it falls under the same, or at the very least, a similar genre as the original. For example, Kayne West, a hip-hop artist, using a Daft Punk song as the basis to his new song, or MSTRKRFT remixing a Justice song. Very rare is someone able to take two different genres and clash them together. Richard Cheese does a brilliant jazz-lounge version of Madonna's Material girl. (Humorous, but very effective). Or My!Gay!Husband! covering Fiest's 1, 2, 3, 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I stumbled across a cover artist by the name of Obidiah Parker. Parker has done a very successful acoustic version of Hey Ya! by OutKast. More recently however, I stumbled across Parker's version of Idioteque by Radiohead and was a little disturbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idioteque is a brilliant electronica song done by Radiohead using samples from electronic instrument experiments in the 70s. The beat is driving, the pads are swelling, and Yorke's soothing and ambient voice climaxes into punchy and rythmic furry during the chours. It is a beautifull song and one of the first to bring me into the wonderful world of radiohead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JBsLFNcnwGM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JBsLFNcnwGM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker's version is a piano ballad version of the song. All off the raw energy is lost and it turns into, well, a piano ballad with soft "pretty boy" vocals on top. There is one point in the song where he tries to capture the rythym of the song by pounding out chords on the piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=363" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who am I to hate? Parker was ambitious and creative enough to do something different. In the words of one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thesixtyone.com&lt;/span&gt; user, "Somebody took a brilliant song and retranslated it, showing a different side of something we all thought we knew. It's like looking into a mirror with someone else's eyes." Is it simply because I am so attached to the original that I do not like the new take. Does the fact the new verison makes me uncomfortable make it effective art?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your opinion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while we are on the topic of remixes and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thesixtyone.com&lt;/span&gt;, let me put in a promotion for my dear friend behind the tremulance. He has made a brilliant remix of Cut Copy's Hearts on Fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.thesixtyone.com/site_media/swf/song_player_embed.swf?song_id=24431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="310" height="120"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a listen and then give him a bump. And check out the site while your there. It's really quite neat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-370054560729403094?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/370054560729403094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=370054560729403094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/370054560729403094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/370054560729403094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/ive-been-challenged-in-field-of.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Challenged in the Field of Creativity'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-5095357030729619839</id><published>2008-07-17T00:21:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T00:44:15.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Consequences for Not Supporting the Oil and Automotive Markets.</title><content type='html'>Abbotsford motorists literally drive me up the wall. I can't tell you the number of times I've almost been hit on my longboard, bike, or even my own two feet. The majority of these times have been when I'm wearing bright colours, a bright lime green hate or florescent orange rain jacket. I have already witnessed one of my friends being smoked by a van making a left hand turn and not paying attention to the group of us crossing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doesn't even mention the number of times I've been flipped off for simply not driving a car. That's the only reason I've managed to come up with, or am I not supposed to cross the intersection when there's a little man engaged in the action of walking shining on me in LED infused light. Right, I forgot, that man actually means the people making left hand turns through that walk way have superior rights to the road because they drive automobiles, so get out of there way because they are coming through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was just ridiculous though. I was on my way to work, biking, when I came to an intersection where the lights were not working. In this situation, drivers, cyclists and pedestrians alike are supposed to treat it as a four way stop. This however, was a free for all. So finally when I had what seemed like an opportunity to get through, some lady decided to take a left turn and almost ran into me. She never noticed and kept speeding on her way to her spa appointment she was probably late for. What ticked me off the most was the driver whom I passed on my right who gave me the ugliest look and hand flare action that suggests the phrase, "What the hell are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three minutes later, I discovered that I left my bike lock at home and needed to go through the dreaded intersection one more time. As I was waiting for an opportunity to go, the driver on my left speed through the intersection, glared at me, and flipped the bird. For what? For waiting for my turn to go? For being on a bike? For not buying a car and supporting the used auto market? I have no clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abbotsford needs to get a clue. I would bike on the sidewalks only it's illegal, and not much safer. Drivers must realize that they share the road with more than themseleves and their agendas. And please, let's show courtsey and a common concern for everyone's safety, not obsecene gestures and bad language.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-5095357030729619839?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5095357030729619839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=5095357030729619839' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5095357030729619839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5095357030729619839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/sin-and-consequences-of-not-supporting.html' title='The Consequences for Not Supporting the Oil and Automotive Markets.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3776058922994634856</id><published>2008-07-15T22:36:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T23:09:52.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Theology of Skewed Truth</title><content type='html'>Are you ready for some theology?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reminded today of a conversation we had in my discipleship class about lies and temptation and all that fun stuff. Basically it went down like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God is the creator, then everything else is created. This includes, you, me, the angels and the demons. God did not create sin however. So where does sin come from? A common miss-conception is that Satan created sin. This isn't possible because God is creator and Satan is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided in class that lies are never created, but based out of truth. Lies are usually only part of the truth or a form of skewed truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was reminded all this today when I was reading out of Shane Claiborne's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jesus For President&lt;/span&gt;. Here's an excerpt from what I was reading:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It's the beautiful things that get us. Perhaps the greatest seduction is not the ANTI-GOD, but the ALMOST-GOD. Poisonous fruit can look pretty tasty... Most of the ugliness in the human narrative comes from a distorted quest to possess beauty. Coveting begins with appreciating blessings. Murder begins with a hunger for justice. Lust begins with a rcognition of beauty. Gluttony begins when our enjoyment of the delectable gifts of God start to consume us. Idolatry begins when our seeing a reflection of God in something beautiful leads to out thinking that the beautiful imagebearer is worthy of worship.&lt;br /&gt;P. 26&lt;/blockquote&gt;In this time in my life, that's comforting news. There is something in me that is inherently good and somewhere along the line, that good has been skewed. Somewhere along the track, I have been right in my pursuits. It's just a point now of finding my way back to that original truth and pursuing it in a godly manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something liberating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to call me on heresy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_605515_4429.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_605515_4429.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3776058922994634856?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3776058922994634856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3776058922994634856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3776058922994634856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3776058922994634856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/theology-of-skewed-truth.html' title='The Theology of Skewed Truth'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3434642613865001363</id><published>2008-07-13T11:38:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:40:56.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Semi-Monthly Poll</title><content type='html'>Due to a lack of creativity as of late, I made a poll. Check it out on the bottom left of this page. It will be every month unless I forget to update it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month is what you think I am, and so what if that's a little vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3434642613865001363?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3434642613865001363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3434642613865001363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3434642613865001363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3434642613865001363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/semi-monthly-poll.html' title='Semi-Monthly Poll'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-4050676406868469954</id><published>2008-07-02T14:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T22:54:00.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ontario 2: Power of Community</title><content type='html'>Today marks day three of visiting my hometown. This whole experience has been truly wonderful. I'm always so nervous to come here because it symbolizes the past for me, and I'm terrified of the past. But so far this has been good, catching up with people, visiting the beach, seeing the change. Here are some more highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I found out that I had no cavities. After that, My dad drove me up the shore a ways to go buy a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slackline"&gt;slackline&lt;/a&gt;. I'm afraid that my parents may be in some sort of biker gang. Every motorcycle we passed, my Dad would flash some sort of gang signage and the majority of bikers would sign back. This concerns me a little. Besides that, the day was beautiful and I got a line set up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I met up with my friend Brandon and we headed down to the beach to set up the line and wait for the Canada Day fireworks to begin. There, we met up with more people I hadn't seen in a while and we all hung out, slacklined, played guitar and watched the fireworks together. Me and my friend Izzy played a song we played all the time last year called Na Na which consists of 4 chords I play over an over, Izzy making up lyrics, and both of us singing na na every so often. There's a recorded version of it and apparently it got really popular here. It was weird to hear people sing along with words both Izzy and I do not know, but it was really fun and something I miss from here dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I saw a girl I knew, Mandy, from way back when I started going to youth group. She was downtown serving food and I was curious so I asked what was going on. Mandy explained that it was a project called food not bombs. The basic idea goes like this: Mandy goes around to local businesses and collects food that they are about to throw away. She then uses said food to cook vegetarian meals like soup, salads, ect. then serves them for free downtown. The idea is to promote wastelessness and to bring the community together. I had some soup and got to chat with Mandy about the different trips she's done lately and about what's going on in her life as of late. It was a great communal experience. Make sure you check out there site &lt;a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fnboss/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After wards, I went to It's All Good, the only place to get fair trade coffee in Port Elgin, in hopes of finding a place to curl up with some coffee, read a book, and maybe see some people wander in. When I first arrived, I noticed my friend Chantelle in the line. I don't think I've seen here since she left for her year long exchange to Croatia 2 years ago. It was good to catch up and discuss our different travelling adventures. Various other people who I knew came in and we caught up, I also got the oppurtunity to talk with a guy who grew up in Ireland. I love the community coffee brings together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few more highlights from my journey home. Tomorrow includes a bachelor party and all the shinanagans that come with. I'll keep you updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I would like to draw attention to something that came from that podcast I linked in my last entry. I have myspace account for my music (&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/gregatkinsonmusic"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you wanted to know). It's really just a place that I can refer some of my friends to some stuff I've recorded over the years. Nothing serious really. Anyways, I was sent a message recently from myspace music inviting me to enter a contest where I would play at Rock the Vote. The following is qouted from the message: "Want to open for Rock the Vote's concert kicking off the 2008 Democratic and Republican Convention activities? Want to help shape the election? If so, take part in the MySpace IMPACT and Rock the Vote DemROCKracy band competition!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I guess I just like what Claiborne said in that interview. He said, (and I'm paraphrasing,) that it is important to vote, but really, we vote everyday in what we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found that to be an interesting thought. If you haven't yet, make sure to listen to that interview.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-4050676406868469954?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4050676406868469954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=4050676406868469954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4050676406868469954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/4050676406868469954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/ontario-2-power-of-community.html' title='Ontario 2: Power of Community'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3425409273325275142</id><published>2008-06-30T17:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T17:26:09.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ontairo</title><content type='html'>So, I came home for a bit and here are the highlights so far.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hanging out with Tom Hard in his super hick town and driving around in his jeep with the top down, doors off, blaring Maylene and the Sons of Disaster. Good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeing Silas in the Airport and eating really shitty Nachos from an un-named Kelsey's restaurant right by the secure area in the Calgary airport. Oh well, the beer and company were awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today has been pretty lame so far. I never know what to do when I go home. I should've called someone or even hoped on my brother's bike and gone down to the lake. Instead, I slept in and did nothing all day. I did listen to a sweet Pod-Cast interview with Shane Claiborne. It's worth a &lt;a href="http://stevebrownetc.com/podcasts/steve-brown-etc/jesus-for-president/"&gt;listen. &lt;/a&gt; But besides that, the rest of the day was pretty lame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of lame, don't bother listening to &lt;a href="http://www.thesixtyone.com/thetremulance"&gt;The Tremulance&lt;/a&gt;. In fact, don't even click on this &lt;a href="http://www.thesixtyone.com/thetremulance"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;. I mean, "You've Got the Girl." Who does this guy even think he is? Someone who knows me, because I definitely do not have the girl. Or was he referring to himself? I don't think anyone who writes such lame music could even hope of getting a girl. Lame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So was this post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3425409273325275142?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3425409273325275142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3425409273325275142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3425409273325275142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3425409273325275142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/ontairo.html' title='Ontairo'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-985046357029804385</id><published>2008-06-25T22:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T22:34:47.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession</title><content type='html'>I bad mouthed a friend behind their back today. I really had no reason to, if there really is any reason to at all. This friend has actually done so much for me and I really had no right to be doing that.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What made matters worse was that when I realized all of this, I didn't just quietly stop. Instead, I announced that I was stopping and said that trash talking people was an unacceptable activity. This was probably done to make myself look good, a last ditch attempt at saving face. But let me ask you, who trash talks a friend behind their back in order to prove the activity unacceptable and hope to come out of it looking good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently I'm still learning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-985046357029804385?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/985046357029804385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=985046357029804385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/985046357029804385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/985046357029804385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/confession.html' title='Confession'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-9015462720873909587</id><published>2008-06-24T23:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T23:50:42.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someday, I Hope to Learn</title><content type='html'>I feel the need to write, so I will write. Besides, it's been a while since you've heard any of my useless ramblings. The truth is, I haven't written in a while for two reasons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was that my computer up and died on me during fathers day. I lost everything. Luckily I was able to salvage most of my music because it was on my iPod, and thankfully, my friend had a copy of all my pictures from India. Everything else though - all my year's assignments, all my pictures from the year, songs that I had been working on - they are all gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through this experience, I not only learned the lesson of backing up my files, but I learned how much exactly I depend on this little piece of machinery. I realized how much I had been suckered into the lie of consumerism. I felt like Jack from the book (yes the book) &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Fight Club &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;right after his apartment exploded, strewing pieces of swedish designer furniture all over the street below&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;. All I needed was that last piece of furniture, that last Ikea sofa, and then my life would be happy. Unfortunately, I didn't realize how quickly my earthly possessions could be taken away from me and further more, how much it would cost me to get that piece of my "life back." As Tyler Durden would say, "The things you own, they begin to own you." I buy the computer to serve me. It crashes, needs a new hard drive, operating system, and it's probably a good idea to buy a $200 back up drive. Soon, I begin serving my computer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Materialism is a bitch aint it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second reason I haven't written in a while is because of the stuff I've been going through lately. It's difficult to write on my life lately in a public blog and remain truthful, so I will remain general. Let's just say I've been realizing as of late that I've had a few mixed priorities, girl confusions, and old habits creep back. It's getting me down lately and it sucks because I feel I have no outlet to inlet to. My mentor says that it's best to know and be known, but straight up, I'm afraid that certain people will somehow stumble upon the know and interpret it all wrong. Already I've written a few things that could be interpreted all wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I should look into a more private journal. Does such a thing exist? Is there a point to writing if no one will read it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me know anyways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For now, I think I'll go read Ecclesiastes and learn that all of this is smoke and mirrors. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someday, I hope that it will sink in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-9015462720873909587?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9015462720873909587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=9015462720873909587' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/9015462720873909587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/9015462720873909587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/someday-i-hope-to-learn.html' title='Someday, I Hope to Learn'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-1523545289806232138</id><published>2008-06-15T02:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T02:35:47.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Got a Facelift</title><content type='html'>Again, this is a product of me putting off sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Hope you like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-1523545289806232138?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1523545289806232138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=1523545289806232138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1523545289806232138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1523545289806232138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/blog-got-facelift.html' title='Blog Got a Facelift'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-563953274583937968</id><published>2008-06-10T23:01:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T23:17:50.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Full Mind Makes for a Difficult Sleep</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep. I went to bed early because I have to work at 5:30 in the morning. This was in vain though. Now I can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find my mind is filled with jumbled thoughts. I've been thinking about the future lately. Mostly about where I'm going to live come the fall, whether or not I will have enough money to go to school and live, how I will work my schedule so that I don't end up doing my internship at an awkward time, that sort of thing. There are other thoughts and questions I have about the future, but I probably won't discuss them in this very public journal of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind has also been wandering to the past. It has wandered to memories of past relationships, friendships which have been neglected for far to long, pictures of a life before now. It has also begun to criticize every decision I've made within the past few years. Have my decisions lead me to a place of sleeplessness due to my worry of the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am supposed to dwell in the present, but my mind wanders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I tried silence today. Unfortunately the best I could get was the buzz of power lines, electrocuting the damp air surrounding it. This peaceful hum was interrupted occasionally by the sound of a bird, distant vehicle, or band saw. Needless to say, I left the spot because I feared the threat of cancer that loomed above me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-563953274583937968?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/563953274583937968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=563953274583937968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/563953274583937968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/563953274583937968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/full-mind-makes-for-difficult-sleep.html' title='A Full Mind Makes for a Difficult Sleep'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3589414377733199242</id><published>2008-06-09T22:51:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T22:55:19.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>We will always want the things we can not have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_521337_3734.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_521337_3734.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3589414377733199242?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3589414377733199242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3589414377733199242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3589414377733199242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3589414377733199242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-5435774492795998976</id><published>2008-06-03T23:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T00:18:47.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Seconds of Fame... Sort of.</title><content type='html'>What is it about being on TV that excites us so much? Why is it every time we see a news crew we are tempted to jump in-front of the camera and scream, "Hi Mom!" &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take my recent story for example.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The BC Lions - a football team apart of the Canadian Football League, or CFL - are holding their training camp in the sports field park and stadium complex about 2 minutes walk from where I'm living. I bike by their training sessions almost everyday on my way to work, friends, or even church, and yet I'm not particularly excited or even moved by the fact that they are here. In fact, I'm more worried about being smacked in the head with a football, falling off my bike, and embarrassing myself at work when I explain what happened. Besides training in my back yard, the Lions are staying at my College. They eat their meals in my school's Cafeteria and sleep in the college's residence buildings, (all two of them). However, I am never caught up in the fact that some, overly sized, ex-high-school jerk - I mean jock - I mean incredibly gifted athlete who happens to run around, catch things, and hit people for a living - is right now sleeping in the same bed I slept in little over a month ago. No, I have not cared really that the BC Lions are here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is, until this evening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me and Dan had just finished watching Adam Sandler's beautiful movie, Reign Over Me, (watch it,) and happened to stumble across the news. After a story on how the Pittsburgh Penguins are dragging on the Hockey Season for far too long, the anchor said, "And now we go to Abbotsford where the BC Lions are training in Greg and Dan's backyard." Well, didn't really say that, but the mention of Abbotsford caught our attention. What followed was some story about two professional ball catchers who were duke-ing it out over some position on the team. I think that was what the story was about anyways, Dan and I weren't paying attention. What we were paying attention to was the footage of the football field we can see from our house, the school we spend most of our time 8 months of the year, and our favorite lunch lady, all of which on national television. This is when I - possibly we - got excited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But why? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it was because we were seeing our neighborhood get some recognition. We were famous!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that doesn't make any sense. In fact, not only did I jump from our school and neighborhood to us - which is completely unrealistic - I don't think anyone would have cared. What do I mean? Well, my friends or family who might have seen that story - which I doubt because it was on at 11:30 at night, pacific standard time - wouldn't be able to associate me with any of that footage. Anyone else watching it would be thinking about the BC Lions and the story surrounding these two players, not the field they were playing on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10 seconds of fame got to my head, and it wasn't even a real 10 seconds of fame. I fell into the trap every person in the background of Much On Demand fell into. It's not even real fame. No one watching the knows you or even cares that your there. Yet, why do we fall into this trap again and again? Why is fame so appealing to us?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do have to admit though; it was cool seeing my favorite lunch lady on national TV.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-5435774492795998976?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5435774492795998976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=5435774492795998976' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5435774492795998976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5435774492795998976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/10-seconds-of-fame-sort-of.html' title='10 Seconds of Fame... Sort of.'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2453901445323055539</id><published>2008-06-01T00:40:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T00:59:39.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week's End</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_521363_3292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v286/173/29/508443577/n508443577_521363_3292.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, I was bored. I've spent the last month siting on my butt, being unemployed. It's not a fun position to be in. So, last weekend, I did my research on the Greater Vancouver Area Transit System, tuned up my bike, and downloaded a whole bunch of new music and uploaded it onto my broken and worn out old iPod. Tuesday morning came and I hoped on my bike and pedaled my way to Aldergrove, caught a bus which took me to a train which took me to a bus which took me to another bus which took me to a ferry which eventually took me to family and friends in the beautiful city of Victoria. Run-on sentences aside, the following are a few random thoughts from my little adventure. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; I am new to public transit so I've picked up on a few trends of this public marvel. Most of these rules are common sense; Have your fare ready before you get on the bus, make sure to give seating priority to senior citizens and mothers with strollers; that sort of commonality. There are a few that stuck out however. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first one I noticed was the siting/standing rule. Buses get to a point when there are no more seats left and people have to stand at that point. There is also a point when people get off the bus, leaving their seat empty. When this happens, the person closest to the empty seat will announce that there is an empty seat for someone to sit in. Under no circumstances however, should anyone take this seat (with the exception, of course, of senior citizens and the handicapped). Taking this seat would announce to the rest of the bus that - out of all the people standing - you are the most important and deserving of that seat, introducing a sort of hierarchal system into the scene. This, as we all know, is completely inappropriate in Canadian Society focused on ensuring that everyone is equal. The flaw of this rule is that it leaves the seat unused and implies the fact that the seat maker has a useless profession. That is just my thought anyways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second rule of public transit is that no one should talk under any circumstances. There are, however, two groups of people who are exempt from this rule. The first group are those annoying and loud cellphone talkers who believe everyone in the bus should hear their one sided conversation about the latest office gossip. The second group are the crazies who have the amazing ability to carry on a conversation with their imaginary friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; Bikes are large and suck to have on the sky train.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt; Come to think about it, I probably didn't need my bike at all on this trip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt; I was thinking... is it acceptable, or even possible for one to backpack across Canada - or anywhere in Canada for that matter - when they are indeed Canadian themselves?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt; I've decided that Victoria is my favorite city, even if it lives under the constant threat of level 9 earthquake. I love the atmosphere, the architecture, the cool shops, eccentric cafés, the ocean, all the green space, and the fact that I have family there. Victoria is the most beautiful city I know, it is always sunny there, and I believe it has the largest population of hippies, long boarders, and hippy long boarders of any city in Canada. Note to self; If I ever have the balls to date again, I'm going to bring her on an epic date to Victoria. Maybe I shouldn't share that with the world...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. &lt;/span&gt;I love the sun! I love summer! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. &lt;/span&gt;Thanks to baby Dorian (or the bird as the affectionately call him in the Culp home) and 2 straight hours of holding him and pacing back and forth the living room just to keep him from screaming, I found myself, for a brief moment, never wanting children. Ethier that or I will adopt when they are past the "hold my 20 pound little body for two hours and walk in 300 circles around this limited space or else I'll scream in your face" phase. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This statement is might not be exactly true, but let it be known all women ages 16 - 35, children aren't always cute, especially when they throw up all over you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt; I really do love kids though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. &lt;/span&gt;When you have 5 beers and a glass of scotch in your system and you start talking about class nine earth quakes and how Victoria is expecting one within the next 987 years, you swear that you start seeing the lamp next to you shake and start hearing the ground rumble. It's all in your head though... or maybe in the 5 beers you just drank. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. &lt;/span&gt;I hope that earthquake doesn't happen on my epic date.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. &lt;/span&gt;Albums enjoyed on this trip:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bob Marley - One Love (Greatest Hits)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Subways - Young for Eternity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ratatat - LP3 (I mean... I don't have that yet... how could I? It hasn't been released.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Battles - Mirrored&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iron and Wine - Woman King&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MSTRKRFT - The Looks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cold War Kids - Robbers and Cowards&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Led Zeppelin - Mothership (also a greatest hits compilation)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. &lt;/span&gt;You can find my sorry attempt at photography &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=22810&amp;amp;l=8304d&amp;amp;id=508443577"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12.&lt;/span&gt; This was bloody long, I wonder if anyone will even read this. Feel free to comment. It feeds my ego.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2453901445323055539?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2453901445323055539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2453901445323055539' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2453901445323055539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2453901445323055539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/weeks-end.html' title='Week&apos;s End'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2436253479620379480</id><published>2008-05-22T12:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T12:50:18.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When One Lacks Inspiration</title><content type='html'>Go watch Prince Caspian. It was enjoyed thoroughly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While your at it, check this out. &lt;a href="http://fishki.net/comment.php?id=32304"&gt;http://fishki.net/comment.php?id=32304&lt;/a&gt; . It is beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I wonder if this - these ramblings and thoughts - if they exist beyond me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2436253479620379480?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2436253479620379480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2436253479620379480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2436253479620379480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2436253479620379480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-one-lacks-inspiration.html' title='When One Lacks Inspiration'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-1798606075177537050</id><published>2008-05-16T22:40:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T23:36:38.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Culture Shock</title><content type='html'>I'm back from India, been back for a while actually. It was one of, if not the, most amazing experience of my life to date. Incredibly eye-opening and life changing. I'll probably be talking about it lot's, ether in this blog, or in person. There is one thing I wish to talk about though and that is culture shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people have asked me if I experienced any sort of culture shock and the answer, surprisingly, has been no. I think I was able to somewhat come to grasps with the reality that our cultures are vastly different. I think I owe this to our team leader and his diligence to prepare us for our first hand witness of this difference. Needless to say, I have had to tell people that I have not experienced any real culture shock - that is until today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening, a friend and I went to go see the highly praised Iron Man, and if it wasn't for the fact that my dear friend had payed for me, I most likely would've walked out. One scene in particular was very difficult for me to watch because it took place in a village, similar to ones I had just been to, and included a boy who reminded me of someone I had met in India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before I go any further, I understand that I was in India and that the setting for this movie was probably no where near there. However, scenes were like flash backs in my mind and people resembled those I had met, making this movie hit uncomfortably too close to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what made me most upset about this movie was the fact that it victimized and made enemies out of the beautiful people in the middle east while, in the same foul swoop, idolized America and Home Land Security. The movie was essentially propaganda for Bush's facade war against terror and non-white, American, christian extremists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't comment any more on this because I don't know enough about politics and media. My friend explores this subject beautifully in her internet writings and I encourage you to read &lt;a href="http://kaylopoptica.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;17&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; I guess what I want to say is that the culture shock I finally faced was not shock of someone else's culture, but our own. Shock at how we can portray people, other human beings, in such a way  that benefits our government policies. (Yes, Canada is involved in the middle east as well.) Furthermore, I am shocked at how we can walk away from this propaganda flick, discuss how much we enjoyed the action, explosions, acting, and looks of the female lead, and yet be totally blind to the racism and hidden agenda's of this film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v252/173/29/508443577/n508443577_475129_7351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v252/173/29/508443577/n508443577_475129_7351.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-1798606075177537050?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1798606075177537050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=1798606075177537050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1798606075177537050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1798606075177537050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/culture-shock.html' title='Culture Shock'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-1026887922644868871</id><published>2008-04-20T02:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T12:07:15.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Journal is Packed</title><content type='html'>A few randoms&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't stop listening to this song. This is a pretty sweet version of it... check it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vrTQ6OtoqfQ&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vrTQ6OtoqfQ&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave for India tomorrow morning. I have to keep reminding myself that, otherwise I forget and begin to wonder why all of my stuff is in bags. I should be more excited. I think I'm mostly dreading 9 hours depravation of any sort of leg room. I also worry because the battery on my iPod only lasts 4 hours on a good day. Alison assures me it will be alright because there are lots of movie watching opportunities. Aron says I should be excited for the cute Japanese stewards. Still none of this makes up for the fact that airplanes are not made for tall people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was a weird day. We had graduation, which was alright, except for the little hat we wore. I kept getting tassels in my mouth. Then everyones family took their son or daughter out for dinner. I was feeling very much like an orphan so the Krabbes adopted me and took me out for Swiss Chalet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to apologize, I suck at these last day kind of things. Everyones always crying and hugging and wanting a picture with you and these things tend to bring out the awkward in me. I suck at goodbyes and I'm clueless when it comes to writing into your yearbook. I keep thinking this is all temporary and that we will all wake up on Tuesday and show up to class. This is not the case at all. What we had - community, closeness, and relationship - was all temporary. Separation is eternal, or so it seems, temporarily. Needless to say, I didn't get to say goodbye to a lot of you because I denied the fact that you are leaving, and I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should probably attempt some sleep. We do leave in 6 hours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are Silversun Pickups any good? I'm downloading them right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good night Canada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-1026887922644868871?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1026887922644868871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=1026887922644868871' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1026887922644868871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/1026887922644868871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-journal-is-packed.html' title='My Journal is Packed'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2366567928813191375</id><published>2008-04-13T22:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T23:25:20.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Way Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://moodle.unis.org/file.php/711/A_Long_Way_Gone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://moodle.unis.org/file.php/711/A_Long_Way_Gone.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I finished this book almost a week ago now and I've been meaning to write some sort of review on it where I tell how great it is and how everyone should read it. Needless to say I haven't yet so I am now. Is that all useless information?&lt;div&gt;Probably.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for your 5 seconds you'll never get back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truth is I did read this book. It was recommended to me by my dear friend Adam who, I believe, picked up from Starbucks. For those of who live back home on the east coast, Starbucks is this coffee chain that has successfully marketed ethics, maybe even better than the church. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Long Way Gone is former boy soldier and Sierra Leone national, Ishmael Beah's, retelling the story of his childhood. This bitterly horrifying and brutally honest story tell of the suffering, pain, and abuse children face in the face of war. Beah tells of how he is split from his family, runs from death only to be meet by it on the faces of common people, is recruited to be a boy soldier, forced to kill hyped on drugs no child should even hear the name of, and has his childhood literally stripped from him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although Ishmael finds help in the end, my heart broke for him as he tells of memories no child should have. It makes me wonder how such hate and evil can exist in the world. It sounds cliche but I have no other way to say it really. Why are children forced to kill? What posses someone to rape a child in front of her parents and then lock them together in their burning house. And where were we when this all went down in Sierra Leone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I watched To Shake Hands with the Devil on Friday. This documentary is about Romeo Delair, a Canadian General working for the UN while the Rwandan Genocide occurred. I won't go into too much detail about this film, other than to say it's a good one to watch, but it made me have the same thoughts as when reading A Long Way Gone. Why weren't we there? Why did I never hear of it until a few ears ago. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder how many wars we never hear of because everyone is to busy concerning themselves with the death of Heath Ledger. I mean no respect to Mr. Ledger, but I wonder how many Dead Rwandans it would haven taken to replace the trial of OJ Simpson in the headlines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reading this book has made me feel pathetic for being Western. What could I possibly do about the dying Iraqis? I'm too busy to do anything. I need to go get a 5th pair of shoes that were probably made by a child in some other part of the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always wondered, would bombing continue in Baghdad if I - a white, privileged, North American kid, with supposedly more potential than any of the kids in Iraq who are my age - were to publicly go stand in the middle of it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this is turning into ranting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You should probably read A Long Way Gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2366567928813191375?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2366567928813191375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2366567928813191375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2366567928813191375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2366567928813191375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/long-way-gone.html' title='A Long Way Gone'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-2959598339997919129</id><published>2008-04-09T01:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T01:44:20.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home?</title><content type='html'>This isn't always as easy as it may seem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say that because I'm probably homesick. This is something I never foresaw coming. I couldn't wait to leave home and discover the world and yet here I am wanting to discover home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been especially hard as of lately because everyone is talking about. They graduate, go on a trip, and then are returning home. Some, even, are planning on staying for more than the summer. Not myself. I have chosen to stay in Abbotsford and find work here for the summer. This is most likely because I have decided that the only way for me to fully move out, is to do just that, and not return home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet here I am, desiring home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that when I'm stressed out about stuff like school and finding a job or worrying about money or even fretting about relationships, I just simply want to go home. This plan however, is flawed for two reasons. First of all, going home is not going to solve my problems. It's funny to think that when I was younger, I would want to run away from home to escape my problems. Now I'm older and I want to run home to solve my problems. Unfortunately, my problems will follow me everywhere no matter where I run. The second downfall is that fact that I'm not sure if i have a home anymore. I'm still not sure how exactly to define home, but I'm sure it is much more than the place you grew up, or the house your parents occupy. I don't really consider Port Elgin home anymore, mostly because I haven't been there in months and I would feel very unfamiliar there, or at least that's how it felt at Christmas. Even my room at Mom and Dad's doesn't seem familiar. I know this may offend some, but please do not take this personally, I believe it's just a part of growing up and becoming a grown up me. Abbotsford is even less of a home. I hardly know anyone outside of my program here at school, I'm constantly moving from place to place, and I don't feel very grounded here at all.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It would be nice to have a definition of home so that maybe one day I could begin striving for one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-2959598339997919129?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2959598339997919129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=2959598339997919129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2959598339997919129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/2959598339997919129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/home.html' title='Home?'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-6524928316067489981</id><published>2008-04-06T16:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T16:18:46.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.microcosmpublishing.com/catimages/image_452.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.microcosmpublishing.com/catimages/image_452.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-6524928316067489981?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6524928316067489981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=6524928316067489981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6524928316067489981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/6524928316067489981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/thought.html' title='A Thought'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-5159320085562236596</id><published>2008-04-03T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T19:55:29.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/R_b_vq4vWTI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zpedlLIum3k/s1600-h/DSCI0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/R_b_vq4vWTI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zpedlLIum3k/s320/DSCI0040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185613215394912562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is in short supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the island at my brother Matt's place, hanging out with family. Watching my nephews totally puts time into perspective. Everytime I come here, They are both completly different people. This isn't even mentioning the fact that it's wierd to think of my brother as a parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quest is almost as well. Time flew by this year. I can remember being scarred to come here and do bible college. I can remeber being stuck in the van on a 2 week long road trip with my family, wanting nothing more to just get to abbotsford and start school. I remember the first day of school, not knowing a single person, and all the social awkwardness that ensued. I'm now studying for my finals, my final finals (locker locker?), looking for a job in the summer, and starting to pack up my stuff to move yet again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this said to put things into perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to hate. (Mooney)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is in short supply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-5159320085562236596?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5159320085562236596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=5159320085562236596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5159320085562236596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/5159320085562236596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/time.html' title='Time'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/R_b_vq4vWTI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zpedlLIum3k/s72-c/DSCI0040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581434154630908329.post-3537675466909310887</id><published>2008-04-02T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T21:26:24.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't tiptoe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-577.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v191/173/29/508443577/n508443577_393928_398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://photos-577.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v191/173/29/508443577/n508443577_393928_398.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All around you, people will be tiptoeing through life just to arrive at death safely.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But dear children, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do not tiptoe&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Run,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Hop,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Skip,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;or dance,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just don't tiptoe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;-Anonymous &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/581434154630908329-3537675466909310887?l=donttiptoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3537675466909310887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=581434154630908329&amp;postID=3537675466909310887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3537675466909310887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/581434154630908329/posts/default/3537675466909310887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donttiptoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-tiptoe.html' title='Don&apos;t tiptoe'/><author><name>Greg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08441243778428267208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__HD5RYdwb0U/SSUFPAmgjkI/AAAAAAAAACA/qcSgpntJHhg/s1600-R/n508443577_1020060_5461.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
