The Great Matchup That Wasn’t – duck Fail!

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Giles

Healy NOT tossing the bat

In his last at bat in the OSU/Oregon conference series, Ryon Healy, the heavy-hitting duck, displayed some duck frustration and a tremendous lack of class and self-control. He was understandably frustrated, as many hitters have been this year when facing the Beaver’s outstanding pitching. But, in my memory, he is the only one this year to put on such a display of poor sportsmanship. His bat, pinwheeling 30 ft in the air, was a dangerous weapon – but not in the way a hitter’s bat should be considered a weapon. In his frustration, Healy totally took it too his hapless helmet. Evidently the helmet was squeezing his head to tight and hindered his decision making abilities and his hand-eye coordination. On a 3-0 offering, Healy – pressing to solidify his Pac 12 conference player of the year presumptive award – hit into an inning ending double play. In his frustration, he threw his bat high into the air, jogged to first, then proceeded to pound the living snot out of his batting helmet.

Michael “Thor” Conforto

Some notes here – I think Healy, Oregon’s big gun and hitting 3rd in the lineup, was playing for himself at that moment. He had gone 0 for 3 on the day and 2 for 9 so far on the weekend with 1 RBI and no runs (he ended the weekend 2 for 10, 0 Runs, 1 RBI). Not POY stats for the biggest series of the season, and nothing compared to the performance by OSU’s Michael Conforto (hitting in the 3rd spot for the Beavers). Conforto went 5 for 12 with 3 Runs, and 7 RBIs for the weekend, and 3 of 5 with 1 run and 6 RBIs, including a crushing Grand Slam blast, in the game. Conforto was obviously making a play for the award Healy believed was his. Over the series, Healy had one extra base hit, a double. Conforto had three, a double, a solo homerun and the towering 4-run bruiser that broke open the rubber match and flooded the duck pond with Beaver runs.

Healy cracked under the pressure. Conforto performed. Healy displayed some obviously poor sportsmanship, he showed poor judgement in taking that 3-0 cut (if you’re going to swing on 3-0, you’d better drive the ball a ton!), he showed a disdain for the game he was in by not trying to beat out the throw to first and trying to keep the inning alive, and he showed disragard to the other players (flying bat, no hustle) and became an individual player instead of a teammate at that moment. That play should cost him POY, and will likely cost him a few spots in the upcoming draft as well. Lots of scouts saw that display, and were surely unimpressed.

Tommy Thorpe

That display was a microcosm of the three game series. The ducks small-balled their way to a 3-0 win in the first game, behind the outstanding pitching of Tommy Thorpe, who was given the chance to pitch a complete game, but was pulled for closer, Jimmie Sherfy (AKA Wild Thang) after allowing the leadoff batter to reach in the 9th. In the first game, usually dependable Beaver starter Matt Boyd was uncharacteristically off to begin the

Wild Thang

game, and the ducks took advantage, playing their brand of baseball to perfection. But after that game, it was all Beavers. And they put on a show in front of capacity, or near capacity crowds at PK park. The ducks were flash and dash in their spiffy new uniforms, but the Beavers were thunder and lightning, with Conforto playing the part of Thor. In the final game, every Beaver batter either scored a run,

Beaver Ace, Matt Boyd

hit in a run, or both – that’s teamwork, that’s production. The ducks, with an outstanding Friday night starter, a superb closer, a decent pitching staff, league leading defensive unit, and a Healy lead offense were just no match for OSU’s pitching depth with 3 starters that would pitch on Friday night most anywhere else, and a strong bullpen to call on; nor the offensive abundance of the Beaver bats.

It was an emphatic exclamation on the season. One that saw the Beavers open with 15 straight wins, sweep 9 opponents (including 4 and 5 game stands against San Diego State and Bryant) with 5 of those sweep coming in conference play. The Beavers have lost only 1 series in conference, to Washington, and only 2 series all year, the other one to San Diego. Another sweep is possible against WSU this week, but, being baseball, nothing is assured.

With their impressive series win in Eugene, and presuming a series win against Washington State in Corvallis, the Beavers made an emphatic statement that they are the Class of the Conference and the Power of the Pac.

Duck after the floodgates opened!

Buh-bye Ryon, Buh-bye duckies! Happiness is flustered duckies in the rearview mirror!

Like All Good Lia.. (ahem) Politicians, the Duck Apologist “Beaverclass” Includes a SLIVER of Truth

Posted on May 15, 2013 by Giles

A virtual inferno!

OK – a comment to my post below from a duck (who for some reason, known only to himself, calls himself Beaverclass) tries to make us believe that the duck locker room has fewer X-boxes than Oregon State’s. Something smelled fishy there, so I did a little sleuthing. Richard echoed my memory of events, and since Richard, aka BeaverMobile, and I possess two of the brightest minds around, I was certain our memories were correct. What I have

Can you see his bill moving?

uncovered, is not only are our memories correct, but the duck imposter was trying on a little spin. He told about a 10th of the story, not all of it.

His great feather-fluffing and tail-twitching was because I have stated on numerous occassions that the excesses of the duck locker room – particularly the x-boxes – violated NCAA rules, at least in spirit. I made the statement that luxuries not directly related to their athletic efforts and performance were prohibited, unless they were provided to the general student population as well. Ohhhh, that made him quack and flitter his tailfeathers! And as it turns out, he is more filled with bluster and deception than knowledge.

An article from the Oregonian, dated November 2, 2005, referenced here and referenced by its author, Aaron Fentress in his blog here, says that the Pac 10 and/or the NCAA frowned on the x-boxes for the VERY SAME reason I had stated! Evidently the ducks were “encouraged” to remove all those x-boxes from each locker, by either the NCAA or the Pac 10 (I cannot find the original article, so I have to rely on the above two sources).

Then, there is this article from the Seattle Times in September of 2003 that gives even more credence to my memory. The relevant passage, in context says:

“The UO locker room is two stories and has a door that will allow eight players to enter at once, a door that can open and shut at three feet per second.

Is the duck still inside?

Each locker has its own ventilation system to personalize perspiration. Each also has outlets for video games and the Internet, as well as a security system that is activated by a code that includes a player’s uniform number and a scan of his thumbprint.”

I’m calling 911 right now to send firefighters to the location of “Beaverclass’s” pants!

A Duck Defends Duck Cheating

Posted on May 14, 2013 by Giles

I first want to thank Max Youn…before I eviscerate him (assuming a “him” here). Max commented on a post of mine, and I appreciate that, even if he was agin’ me. At least I know Max was reading my post…comprehending? I’m not sure. Let me reprint Max’s comment here, to make it easier for everyone (I copied and pasted his comment – the typos are his own):

Dennis the Devil

“Have you ever done research on the Erickson era at OSU? He almost makes Kelly look like an angel. You implied that Oregon success is directly related to their relationship with Lyles, how many of those players that MIGHT have been influenced by him are still at Oregon? Money from Knight? Every college has boosters that give a lot of money, Oklahoma State has one of the riches men in the world support them, why do you not complain about him? Would you turn done Nike money if he had gone to OSU (I am sure you know how much money he has given to OSU). You beaver fans are so jealous, you would love to be in position Oregon is but since you cannot you try to bring them down. What is the reason the basketball program is doing better. Softball, track, volleyball, etc. Oregon has boosters that care, the average OSU grad earns more then the average Oregon grade so why do they not suport their school? That is the question you should ask.”

One by one:

Chippy the Cherubim

Have I ever done research on the Erickson era at OSU? Brother, I happily lived the Erickson era! I’m not sure how he makes Kelly look like an angel – maybe a chubby cherubim? I am unaware of any recruiting violations by Erickson, and if you know of some, then present your evidence, Max. You made the charge, you do the research. I am aware of the Chad Johnson not attending classes thing, and that is a blemish on the Erickson record. I am aware that Erickson didn’t pay a lot of attention to class attendance by his players – but it wasn’t cheating, just poor management. Besides, any who didn’t measure up grade-wise paid the price by losing their eligibility, with the exception of Chad – who nevertheless played within the rules (but, if the stories are true, stepped outside the spirit of those rules). Present your evidence here, and I will make sure it gets as much exposure as I give my own stellar posts. However, even if Erickson had broken every rule in the book, his past actions have no bearing on the guilt or innocence of Kelly. Pointing at Erickson to excuse Kelly’s behavior is called The Golden Rationalization, and it is a fallacy, a sophistry, a lie.

Willie, Will or Won’t?

“You implied that Oregon success is directly related to their relationship with Lyles…” No, I implied no such thing. You inferred it, and your inference is wrong. My point is that Oregon broke the rules in the way they used Lyles. My point is also that a person caught cheating has probably cheated before. My further point is that it is likely the ducks have used shady means to bring several of their best athletes to Eugene. Cheating is cheating. Cheaters cheat. Kelly and the ducks are cheaters, and they cheated…and you, and other duck fans, excuse it, JUST AS LONG AS THEY WIN! That, sir, is shameful; and it is one of the things wrong with the program and its fan base.

Unca Phil

“Money from Knight? Every college has boosters that give a lot of money, Oklahoma State has one of the riches men in the world support them, why do you not complain about him?” Such a rich vein of ore here, I hardly know where to begin. You are using the Golden Rationalization here again, and you are using the Strawman fallacy. There is nothing wrong with having generous donors, and I never claimed otherwise, nor did I imply it (that’s the strawman). You lurched to an unwarranted conclusion here. Did you actually understand what I wrote? The money Knight gives doesn’t bother me in the least, it is how the money is used that I question. That, and how Knight, against NCAA rules, manages to “accidently” bump into every major recruit that comes to duckville. I am not concerned about T. Boone Pickens’ support of Oklahoma State, because I

T. Boone Pickens
Doin’ it right?

don’t see any evidence of abuse of that money by them. The wealth of Pickens and Knight is not at issue, their giving and to whom they give is their business. What IS at issue is if their money and position is used to give the teams they support an unscrupulous and unfair advantage, and if they break the rules by their actions. I have neither read nor heard any allegations regarding Pickens’ behavior, have you? The fact that Oregon State does not play Oklahoma State, while they play Oregon every year makes duck infractions more interesting and relevant to Beaver fans than any that may occur at Oklahoma State. There is no logical requirement that before one can condemn one specific instance of bad behavior, one must specifically condemn every other instance (this is a logically impossible condition). But, to make you happy, I will, here and now, generally and universally state that anybody who behaves as Oregon and Chip Kelly have done are WRONG, and they are CHEATERS!

Coach Mike Riley
Picture taken from Webster definition of Fair Play

“Would you turn done Nike money if he had gone to OSU (I am sure you know how much money he has given to OSU).” No, of course we wouldn’t turn down any amount of Nike money, and we don’t. I have faith in our administration to not misuse that money (again, it’s not the money, it’s how that money is used), like Oregon has. Riley is the poster boy for fair play. Athletic Director Bob DeCarolis is very careful to play by the rules. If we, the Beaver fans and supporters, found out that Oregon State was guilty of the same type of cheating the ducks have already admitted, many would end their support. I would. I think enough of us would that it would permanently financially cripple OSU sports. That kind of knowledge keeps a program honest. Fans that worship winning, and will sacrifice ethics to that god, encourage the behavior that is being exposed in Eugene.

“You beaver fans are so jealous, you would love to be in position Oregon is but since you cannot you try to bring them down.” No question, I would love Oregon State to be in Oregon’s position – IF we got there without cheating. We aren’t trying to bring Oregon down, Oregon is bringing itself down by their unethical behavior. Which Beaver fans made Chip Kelly pay Willie Lyles a dime? Which of them forced Phil Knight to meet recruits during their visits? Oregon’s success, wherever it is found, is tainted by their poor behavior. The kid that pointed out the emperor’s nakedness had nothing to do with taking his clothes.

Bob DeCarolis

Thanks for playing Max. You are welcome back into the arena anytime. It is always gratifying when a Beaver soundly beats a duck!

Chippin’ Away at Credibility

Posted on May 8, 2013 by Giles

The NCAA has an opportunity to do the right thing: Deliver deserved punishment to the media darlings, the upstart elites, the Nike wunderkind, the immoral, lying, cheating University of Oregon Ducks. Chip the surface of the recent “alleged” violations, and Chip Kelly’s visored head pops up.

Pumpkin Eater

Is Chip Kelly a “good guy”? He seems personable enough, but so have several “bad guys” of history. I’m not going to present an example, the first two that pop into my mind will generate howls of “He’s not a bad guy!” from half the readers, and “How dare you compare Chip Kelly to HIM?” (because the second bad guy is universally acclaimed as such and some folks struggle with the fact that offering an example of a DEFINITE bad guy to bolster the assertion that there are several personable bad guys in history – is NOT comparing Chip Kelly to said bad guy – simply providing an example; but I digress). Since I would prefer to discuss the case coming before the NCAA, and NOT argue the proper use of simple logical constructs that completely baffle some folks, I have decided not to provide a specific example.

Coach Mike Riley

Oregon State coach, Mike Riley, seems to be on good terms with the Chipster, by all accounts. However, I believe this amicable relationship has more to do with who Mike Riley is than who Chip Kelly is – Mike Riley is undeniably one of the good guys. Why am I so hard on Chip Kelly? I will state the obvious here – I am an Oregon State Beaver fan, which puts any Duck coach at an extreme disadvantage in my personal opinion poll. But beyond that, Chip Kelly has made a practice of pushing the boundaries, when he isn’t outright ignoring them. I’ll concede that the man can run the spread option offense (or whatever it is

Click on picture to purchase – it’s rare!

we’re calling it nowadays) to a fare-thee-well. But here’s the rub, to run this offense successfully at the highest levels of NCAA football requires many exceptional athletes…the how and why of these numbers of exceptional athletes choosing to play at Oregon is at the heart of the current “troubles”.

How hast thou cheated? Let me count the ways:

1) Willie Lyles was paid for verbal reports, when NCAA rules require written ones.

2) Willie Lyles was paid $25,000. Other programs paid him $5,000. NCAA rules require payments to recruiting services be within the reasonable range of what other customers pay. 500% is not a reasonable range.

3) Chip Kelly asked Willie Lyles to send him “something, anything” on paper, after Lyles had been paid his $25,000. Lyles sent written reports from the previous recruiting season or before. I don’t need to define the term “cover up” do I?

4) When asked by a reported about “Willie Lyles”, Chip Kelly claimed he knew nothing about the man. When later confronted with evidence of Kelly’s email correspondence with Mr. Lyles, the Chipster said something like, “Oh, you meant Will Lyles? We knew him as Will around here.” Has anybody in the history of credible accounts ever failed to connect their acquaintance, Will, with the use of the nickname, “Willie”, when asked if they were acquainted? I will say NEVER. I can understand someone not making the connection between Jack and John, but Will and Willie – NO! Which means Mr. Chip Kelly was lying for no purpose…or lying for a purpose (pretty basic logic, that). What might that purpose be? If, as I have heard put forward, it was no big deal because he was just lying to a reporter (after the same person tried to make the argument that the difference between “Will” and “Willie” was confusing). This defense claimed that Kelly was honest with the NCAA, so there was no infraction. Hmmmmm, lying to a reporter, but honesty with the NCAA from the same man who, after the fact, was asking for some kind of scraped together, hurried, bogus “evidence” to present to the NCAA? That doesn’t stand up much better than the “I didn’t know Willie was Will” excuse. I contend that he told the lie to the reporter, because he had already told a similar lie to the NCAA – “I don’t recognize that name.”

There are some reports of possible corner-cutting by Kelly and Co. in the NFL draft

. A player says he was offered before the draft was over, the Eagles and Kelly say he wasn’t. I don’t know a darn thing about the integrity of the player in question…

Iceburgs and crime (or cheating)

I’m a believer in the iceberg theory of cheating. For every incident of cheating you find, there are nine other incidents you don’t find. While I believe that the over-the-top opulence of the duck facilities (individual x-boxes in the locker room, waterfall in the therapy room, and so on and so forth) have helped their recruiting – and I think this use of Phil Knight’s money violates NCAA rules, at least in spirit – I also believe that a whole lot of cheatin’ accounts for a whole lot of the good recruitin’.

The reason for these rules is to keep the recruiting field as level as possible. Oregon is seeking a national championship the old fashioned way, buying it. A little research shows that many, maybe most…maybe all of

Owner of the Ducks

the most prominent and popular “traditional” football powers have some murky practices in their past. If the NCAA is serious about cleaning up recruiting, and cleaning up their own reputation along with it, they will land heavily on the Ducks. Cheating for recruiting advantage not only unfairly enhances the cheaters’ resumes with more wins than deserved, it also diminishes the resumes of their competition. If Oregon emerges from the process with their reputation generally intact and the foundation of their program, built by lying and cheating and general immorality, still in place, the NCAA will be blaring the message loud and clear: “Cheaters prosper, because if you’re not cheating you’re not trying!” What an unambiguous message that would send our kids with our false respect of fair play and sportsmanship, no?

God is Love

Posted on February 14, 2013 by Giles

I have to write. I have not been as faithful on these pages as I intended. I want to focus on my quest, as I’ve mentioned before. Since last I posted, I have made progress on this

East Friesian Dairy sheep
(click to learn more)

journey – and I intend to get caught up on this blog over the next several days.

Where to start? So much has happened. I bought six milking sheep – yes, you read that right, milking sheep. The intent is, with another local farmer, to use the milk to produce cheese. Never heard of sheep milk cheese? I think you have – Roquefort? Does that name ring a bell? It is sheep cheese.

: Lacaune dairy sheep
(click for more info)

The six ewes that I bought are East Friesiian/Lacaune crosses. Think of Holstein (East Friesian) and Jersey (Lacaune) cows. The East Friesian is known for her milk production, the Lacaune is known for the quality of her milk.

My beloved Beavers had a somewhat successful season, but lost at least three games, including their bowl game vs. Texas, due to an inexplicable reluctance to run the ball. Rumors abound regarding a new logo/branding/marketing effort and has been raging on the internet this past week. Maybe I’ll write more about these topics later.

What I want to write today are some thoughts that I should have recognized years ago – but have become clear to me only recently. These have been directly related to my quest – since it became painfully obvious that I have quite a bit of clean-up and preparation work to do before I can be used by God in the way that he intends, the way he has lead me to understand he wants to use me. This work is clearing out the clutter that has kept me from enjoying a closer relationship with God – and the clutter is all about idols, personal habits and foibles that had become more important to me than God. If you had asked me, I would have denied that it was the case – but my actions and my daily decisions proved otherwise. It doesn’t seem completely appropriate to go into great detail at this time – but I have been working, and continue to work on more than one sinful habit/idol.

Here is an amazing observation (I’m going to refer to the big one (idol), as The Big One, surprisingly enough): I first became convicted in my heart about The Big One during my weekly, Sunday morning, men’s discipleship class at the church I attend. It led me first to silent confession to God, then open confession to my pastor and to other close friends. Once this confession was made, the way was open to invite God to help me with this idol – and he did. Every time I asked (and sometimes simply asking was hard), he was mighty on my behalf, and victorious. Now, to the observation; I discovered that as God worked on The Big One, he was also working on other aspects of my heart, mind and life that displeased him. Some things changed, some other things are changing, and as one idol gets knocked down, more are revealed that must be destroyed.

Golden calf
(click to learn more)

Before we go farther, let me recommend a website, http://www.settingcaptivesfree.com/ and a book, “Getting to No: How to Break a Stubborn Habit” by Erwin W. Lutzer. Both were recommended to me by my pastor, and I recommend both as being very helpful and useful in destroying those golden calves that we are so prone to creating and serving.

Click to buy

At the very beginning of my personal house-cleaning, I was confronted with this truth: The purpose of my life is to glorify God. That seems pretty simple, and it is easier to say and to type and to think than it is to live. All of the elements have been prominent in my awareness for years. I just never put them together in a meaningful way. I was given the most basic ingredients of this truth as a young child in a memorization verse – one I can still recite from memory – Rev. 4:11 (KJV) “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”

Here are those elements – most of them stated directly or easily derived from Rev 4:11:

God created the universe and all that is in it.

I am created by God.

God created me for his pleasure.

As my creator, he has the only right to define that purpose (this is a critical link, to which I paid too little attention)

His pleasure is his Son, Jesus Christ. Matt 17:5 “…This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased. Hear ye him.”

Jesus Christ is the glory of God. 2 Cor 4:6 “For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ”

And Paul tells us, “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.” 1 Cor 10:31

This led me to a “binding thought” that seems to tie together several elements of the Christian walk. I hope I can state it here with enough clarity to be useful.

In Ephesians, Paul makes it very clear that it is by grace that we are saved. Eph 2:8 “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:” Then James, the brother of Christ, muddies the water for many of us by boldly stating, as boldly as Paul does above, that “faith without works is dead”. James 2: 20 (But read the entire passage 2:14 – 26)

What do we do with this? Are James and Paul in argument or agreement? We must first start with the understanding that the Bible is the inspired Word of God, and that God cannot be in disagreement with himself. So James and Paul must be in agreement. How can that be? So begins this binding together.

Jesus Christ is the glory of God

Jesus Christ is God manifested in the flesh (1 Tim 3:16), the physical expression of God on earth.

We are called to live Christ within us. Col 1:27 “To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”

As we see above, we are called to live for God’s pleasure, which is his Son, who is the glory of God. So it is as we live Christ, and show Christ in our lives that God is glorified, and he takes pleasure in seeing his Son lived in our lives.

Just as Christ is the physical manifestation of God, so are our works the physical evidence of our faith, the manifestation of Christ within us, the author and finisher of our faith. Heb 12:2

We are dead without faith (by grace are ye are saved through faith). James tells us that faith without works is dead. Jesus even tells us that “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another” John 13:35. This is Christ telling us that our behavior is the proof of our faith. John tells us God is love in 1 John 4:8 “He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.” As Christ, the expression of God, love, flows through us to others, we show love, God, Christ, the glory of God in our lives. We glorify the Father, and thereby fulfill the purpose of our creator in creating us.

Finally, why does it matter? After all, we are saved by our faith, and we are secure in God’s hand – are we not? Rom 8:38, 39 “For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” John 10:28, 29 “And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.” Why worry about what we do? We are saved.

It matters because God has saved us to a holy life. 2 Tim 1:9 “Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.” And it matters because what we do, what we build on our foundation of Christ, our salvation, is tried by fire in judgment by God. What stands, what is eternal, what is of God, what is Christ-like will enrich us for all eternity. What does not, will be lost, and impoverish us. 1 Cor 3:12 – 16 (notice particularly verse 15) It matters because this is how we lay up treasure in heaven. It matters because this is how we get closer to God, closer to the purpose for our lives. It matters because this was what I was born to do.

Apologetics and Ratio Cristi

Posted on June 15, 2012 by Giles

Ratio Cristi – click to go to website

Have you heard of Ratio Christi? You should know about them. They are a support organization for campus Christian ministries. Here is a link to an essay by Chuck Colson about Ratio Christi. Their mission is to provide solid apologetics support and training for students on campus. I first heard about Ratio Christi while listening to Bill Bennett’s Morning in America talk show. I was reminded of Ratio Christi again in a newsletter from Lee Strobel’s Bible Gateway website. I believe I have found my major purpose. Please go to the links to get more important information about Ratio Christi and Christian apologetics.

I’m not exactly sure what form it will take, but my desire is to be the Chapter Director for a Ratio Christi chapter on the Oregon State University campus. In order to make this happen, I will need to make my farm profitable enough to support me. I want to be a full time apologist, but I don’t want to divert any funds from growing this organization across the campuses of America. Building the profitability of my farm will take some time, and a great deal of effort. I’m not able to get there in my own strength – please remember my goal in your prayers. A side note: It is not easy for me to ask for prayer for myself. I would rather request prayers for others. Maybe it’s something I need to work on?

Back to a bit more apologetics – by buddy Ken has been persistent over the years in putting apologetics in front of me. He has told me about so many thinkers and scientists and speakers and writers that I have lost track, as some of his tidbits have come unstuck from a brain that seems to have lost some of its adhesive in the last couple of years. KEN – post a response with some of your favorites, please.

I will talk a little bit about the authors I have read on the subject:

Reasonable Faith – click to purchase from Amazon

William Lane Craig – this man is a true heavyweight. His definitive book, “Reasonable Faith” is also the name of his website. This book is heavy with physics, astrophysics and philosophy. He makes some very intricate and complicated arguments; not all of which I can claim to follow completely and accurately. To his eternal credit, Craig also wrote “On Guard: Defending Your Faith with Reason and Precision” with Lee Strobel. This book is much more understandable for the average reader, yet still solid and well reasoned.

: On Guard – click to purchase from Amazon

Case for Christ – click to purchase from Amazon

Lee Strobel – Lee writes with the enthusiasm of the converted atheist that he is. In “The Case for Christ”, he tells a little bit about how he started his investigation after his wife became a Christian, his subsequent conversion and his previous career as a newspaper journalist. But this book is an account of his investigation of Christ and the claims of the Bible. He applies his skills as an investigative reporter to this effort.

Mere Christianity – click to purchase from Amazon (different cover design)

Of course, no listing of such authors would be complete without C. S. Lewis and his “Mere Christianity”.

Questions – click to purchase from Amazon

“The Questions Christians Hope No One Will Ask” by Mark Mittelberg and Lee Strobel has been recommended to me, but I haven’t found it in my local bookstore yet, so I just bought it on line. I have heard many of the points it makes from a dear friend, who read it immediately after she became a Christian, not quite a year ago, and it was instrumental in rooting her faith.

The Reason fo God – click to purchase fro Amazon

I bought “The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism” by Timothy Keller. I know nothing about the author or the book. I noticed it in an airport bookstore and bought it about 6 weeks ago, but have not read it yet.

The most convincing proof, for me, is what the eleven disciples did with their lives. Before the accounts of their lives can have the impact on one’s reason, the groundwork of the historic proof we have of how they lived must first be laid. Once the historic accounts are established by anthropological evidence (and it is established in all three books I have read, and I’m told it I in “Questions” as well), the impact of their lives in unavoidable. These men lived the rest of their lives mocked, reviled, imprisoned, tortured and killed because of their incredible belief that Jesus was Christ, the Son of God, and that after he was crucified he was resurrected, was physically present with them and spoke with them. Now, it’s one thing for us to believe those accounts, by faith, today – and our belief in them carries no weight of proof with it, regardless of what we might be willing to suffer because of our belief. But those men claimed that they saw and heard and touched the risen Lord, AFTER watching his death. It is true that men can, and will, teach many false things; sometimes things they don’t even believe, for monetary gain or acclaim or even the satisfaction of bending minds to their will. But I cannot believe that a man would suffer indignities, torture and death for preaching something he KNOWS is false, when renunciation of his consciously false belief would spare him that suffering. Yet those eleven men would not be swayed from their faith, their insistence upon what they witnessed. They lived lives of men who had observed mind-blowing, life-changing, unbelievable but undeniable events. They didn’t care about their mortal lives! Because they had witnessed death defeated! Their witness proves the Resurrection, and proving the Resurrection proves that Christ is the Son of God, which proves there is a God.

I know, there are several avenues of attack and doubt that can be taken. To those of you who are so inclined, I urge you, “Read the books” and “Read the Book”.

Annoying Orange to Premiere on Cartoon Network Tonight!

Posted on June 11, 2012 by Giles

: Click for more information about The Annoying Orange

I take some bit of pride in this, since I “found” Annoying Orange while searching for something fun to link in my post about the difference between apricot jam and marmalade.

This development is as good a reason as any to resume my posting here. That, and the fact that I promised my very good friend, Ken Chapman that I would resume (but I promised to resume last week); and the fact that I will leave this Saturday on my mission trip to Guatemala with my church Salem Heights Church, and Reid Saunders Association; an excursion that I promised to faithfully chronicle on these pages.

I’m not sure, but I think Annoying Orange might be a cousin of Pure Orange, with whom I am well acquainted. We all have annoying relatives, don’t we? No, I will not name any in my family – I love them all far too much to do such a thing…and at any rate, even the MOST annoying of my relatives fall FAR short of AO.

My apologies for being remiss in this blog endeavor. Not by way of excuse, but as partial explanation of my lapse, my previous posts about the passing of Ken Denio and Mike LaRocque took their toll on me emotionally. The timing of their deaths so closely together was jarring to me.

Ken Denio

One, Ken, was a fixture in my life, for all of my life. A person I was never really prepared to have “leave”.

Mike LaRocque

The other, Mike, was a new friend, but one I treasured. A friendship I wanted to deepen and cultivate and develop into something as solid and substantial as my closest friendships.

Something I have discovered while doing this blog is that a short hiatus too easily becomes a long departure, as in this case. I regret my absence.

Mike LaRocque RIP

Posted on February 22, 2012 by Giles

Mike LaRocque - my friend

Mike LaRoucque, a man I liked very much, one I considered a good friend, but a friend with whom I didn’t spend the time I would have liked; Mike passed on Sunday. Sad, sad news that I just received this past hour. The only information I received was that Mike was diagnosed only 10 days before his death with cancer (lungs, bone, colon). I am stunned and sad tonight.

Mike’s son, Joey, played football at Oregon State a few years back. That is how our paths crossed. Mike and his wife, Lynn came to our tailgater, Hog n Bonz, and through that beginning a friendship developed that lasted beyond Joey’s years playing for the Beavers.

Joey, and his sister Jackie are credits to their parents. Joey is open, down to earth, enthusiastic and a joy to be around. A good looking young man, too. I enjoyed the times we visited, both during and after his football career. Jackie is a delightful young lady, pretty, vivacious and fun. I’ve spent less time around Jackie, but have enjoyed the moments.

Mike was bigger than life. He commanded a room, or a tailgater, simply by the force of his personality. People were drawn to his bluff exterior and honest conversation. I can see him now, standing beside me at the tailgater, turning his head slightly towards me and speaking out of the corner of his mouth, in that gravelly rumble of his.

I am grieved for Lynn, Mike’s lady. She is bubbly and friendly and cute and cuddly – and she seemed a perfect match for her “Rocky”.

The last time I saw Mike was just before my namesake nephew, Gyles’ wedding. He and Stacey were married not far from Mike and Lynn’s home in southern California – so I took advantage of the opportunity to see two of my favorite people. What a beautiful evening. We went to a wonderful restaurant by a small lake, and dined outside, beside the lake. The evening was warm and pleasant. Mike and Lynn were well known there, and we received the best attention from the staff. Joey and his lady came by to visit for a few minutes on their way to a show at the Hollywood Bowl. That evening with Mike and Lynn is a highlight of the past year, and will remain a favorite memory of mine.

Mike, you were a good man, a man’s man (I know of nobody who fits that description better than Mike). I enjoyed your company and friendship immensely. May God’s face shine upon you now. May God’s love and abundant mercy comfort your Lynn and Joey and Jackie in this time of loss and sorrow.

I will miss you very much.

Stealing pumpkins

Posted on February 22, 2012 by Giles

Click to hear Andy Griffith describe a similar event.

This post is probably a better fit for October, but I’m in the mood for writing it now, so I’m writing it.

October 1974, I was a freshman at Oregon State. I lived at Dixon Lodge, and had just moved in the first of that month. I had been at Dixon long enough to have a pretty good sense of my fellow Dixon Lodgers. Most were good sorts. Rambunctious some, yeah. Bit of a rascal in some of them, sure.

They considered the few encounters with campus police to be somewhat of a friendly contest. (Now, I’m sure the campus police had a different viewpoint). But their scrapes with the campus police were on the order of pranks, not crimes: using a 2×4 hooked to the flag lanyard to put a garbage can over top of a flag pole at night. A sea lion head in one of the barrels scattered around campus from which folks would pick up the campus newspaper. And, of course, the odd parking ticket or two.

OSU MU Quad - click for OSU website

I trusted these guys. I trusted their basic sense of right and wrong. They came from farming, logging backgrounds. So when we were told that we were all going out to steal pumpkins for our pumpkin carving function with Azalea House (the women’s co-op next door), I was taken aback. They were stealing from the farmers, that just wasn’t right! No, I couldn’t go. I had to study, I had a

Azalea House

date, I was visiting friends – anything to avoid going out and stealing. No excuse was good enough for John Joiner, or “Dad” Joiner as he became known. He badgered me and wheedled and pushed, until he finally wore me down, and I went, unhappily, but I went along.

Jimmy Hill had acquired a couplle of jugs of raw apple cider from the Food Tech building across

Wiegand Hall - Food Tech - click to see what makes it famous

campus. They had been sitting next to the baseboard heater for a few days,, and had fermented just enought for a bit of sparkle in the cider. Jimmy brought the jugs along, they were passed around, and I had my share. But I wasn’t too keen on this expedition. I tried to keep my mind off the purpose of the trip by listening to the jokes and stories, sipping cider, and enjoying the breeze in my face as we bumped along the country roads in the back of Joiner’s pickup. From time to time I looked up at the full moon and wondered what I was going to do.

NOT harvested pumpkin patch - click for some punkin stealin' music

Joiner turned onto a dirt road, followed by Gordy Locke in his pickup, also loaded with eager pumpkin thieves. Wait! what was this? I knew a harvested field when I saw one, and these fields we were passing through were harvested. Grain stubble on the left and…was it, could it be…yes! That was a harvested pumpkin field on the right, a small, lonely pumpkin lying here and there. Whew! I breathed a big sigh of relief! I wasn’t going to

harvesting pumpkins - see the area where the truck is driving? It was like that only just dirt!

participate in a thieving raid, my faith in my new friends had been instantly restored. We were only gleaning, and they had just been calling it stealing to add a little spice and adventure to the night’s activities. I relaxed and began to enjoy the night, all of it, the moon, the fresh air, the cider, the special smell a stubble field has on a warm night, all of it.

The pickups finally stopped by a big pile of pumpkins in the corner

Stubble field - click to see the smashed pumpkin

of a field. These were obviously leftovers that weren’t worth hauling off. We jumped out and started tossing pumpkins into the backs of the pickups. “Wait!” Joiner hollered, “These aren’t the good pumpkins!, the good ones are out in the field!” I looked down at the pumpkin in my hand. It looked fine to me, so did all the others in the pile. I kept tossing them into the truck.

THEN! Lights blazed, engines raced, guns were fired, there was hootin’ and hollerin’ (hooting and hollering is just wrong, isn’t it?) and a couple of spotlight beams swept back and forth across the chaos! Gordy fell back into the bed of his pickup, “I’m hit!” he said and pulled his hand away from his face, smeared with blood. The other side of his face was spattered with blood, like he’d taken some shotgun pellets to the head. Now it became something far more serious than a high-jinks outing! This was serious! “Stop!” I holllered, “He’s hit! He’s hit” But the guys behind the spotlights kept laughing and shouting and shooting. “They’re crazy”, I thought and I knelt beside Gordy as he lay against the pumpkins piled at the front of the pickup bed. Someone jumped into the driver’s seat, and started up the engine with a roar. I saw the white letters above the rear window of Gordy’s custom pink pickup – “Jesus Saves” flashed, white-on-pink each time the spotlights swept by. “I sure hope so” I said to myself and prayed that Gordy’s injuries were minor, but I wasn’t very hopeful. We left the din and chaos and destruction behind us as the pickup raced up the dirt road we had just come down, throwing billows of ghostly dust clouds into the moonlit night. We finally stopped at a big old oak tree, and the farmers seemed to shink back into the night as things suddenly went quiet.

I was just getting my heartbeat back to normal after such a narrow escape, and Gordy was saying his was fine, just nicked, when John Joiner started preaching mission and destiny and revenge. “They’ve gone back to their houses” he ranted. “They think they’ve scared us off. But, by golly, this just makes me mad, and more determined than ever.” Eyes lit with hope and growing fervor started following John while he paced back and forth in front of the motley crowd.

“No they haven’t!” I countered. “They caught us once, and they’ll be up all night laying for us to come back again!” I knew, I’d been on the other side. I knew what stirred in a farmer’s belly when somebody tried to steal his crop from the field he had sweat and labored over for the past year. I knew they were still out there in the dark, waiting. But my voice fell on deaf ears, John held them all in thrall, and Pied Piper like, he led them back down that self-same dirt road that was playing such a big part in the night’s drama. I sat on the tailgate of one of the pickups and watched all of my new friends and brothers marching to their doom. Something, something I didn’t understand then, and not really now, but something compelled me to join them. Not because I was eager to steal pumpkins or get back at the farmers, NO! I was certain something bad was gonna happen. I had seen the cold viciousness of our foes, when they laughed and pursued and fired whle Gordy fell back, dangerously wonded, against that pile of pumpkins. I understood protecting their crops, but not their joy in hurting someone. They didn’t care if Gordy had been hit…no, take that back, they cared, they were delighted that they’d hit one of us. They didn’t care a fig about Gordy or his wounds.

No, I went because I needed to be there. If something bad was going to happen, I needed to be there to help my buddies, not sitting on the tailgate of a pink pickup, dangling my legs, while everyone else were being slaughtered, too far away for the white painted words of salvation on the cab behind me to do much good.

So I followed, hustling to catch up. Dreading every step, sure it was leading to my doom…or at least to something that was going to hurt bad, one way or the other. I knew that before the dawn broke, I would either be dead or in jail – and I wasn’t sure which I preferred.. Dead was dead, but jail meant I would have to answer to my father, and how was I going to explain to my hard working farmer of a dad that I, born and raised on a farm, had been stealing pumpkins?

I finally caught up with the foolish bunch, laughing, yakking, joking, eager to show those farmers a thing or two. I didn’t say a word, unusual for me, because I had already tried to warn them of what was ahead, to no avail. So I plodded along, trying to figure out a way to minimize the coming carnage, as we marched into the valley of death.

Reaching the field, I braced myself…nothing! We ventured further into enemy territory; I was looking everywhere at once, trying to see the attack as early as possible…nothing! Maybe the farmers in Oregon were different from those I grew up around in California, maybe they were sitting back, snug in their house with a couple bottles of whiskey and many stories of their exploits that night.

Just as I relaxed, thinking the fellows would pick up a few more pumpkins and we could go, BANG! Bright headlights, sweeping spotlights, shots and shouts and laughter accompanied by the bass rumble of powerful pickup engines as we all scattered like quail across the bare fiield.

I was in a prison-escape movie. Running as hard as I could in the darkness, diving to the dirt as a spotlight swept over me, then up and running again. Whirling, shouting, lights spinning, guns blazing, shouts, cries - CHAOS! I thought I would be caught at any second, but until I was immobilized, I was surviving. I could see the dark treeline in the distance that marked a river or creek, and I reckoned that the trees and brush and water afforded better chances of survival than the bare dirt I was running and sprawling on. Up, run, dive, lay still, up and run again. Over and over…then wait! right in my path was a HUGE pumpkin. NOW I was ready to take it. Some residual thread of defiance, assertion of self, in the midst of complete anarchy. I would be chased off, yes – but I would nevertheless return home with a prize – IF I returned home. Picking up the pumpkin, I ran, no, I jigger-jogged. Pumping my legs as hard and as fast as I could, holding the pumpkin, more than 2 feet in diameter, in front of me, I looked like a desperate, very pregnant woman moving forward as fast as possible while cradling her belly with its precious cargo in her arms – jigger-jogging.

So now it was up with the pumpkin, jigger-jog as hard as I could, throw myself face to the ground with the pumpkin stretched forward of my head until the light passed over, then up, scooping the pumpkin and jigger-jogging toward the distant tree line. Over and over and over. Shorter distances between dives, because my mobility had been seriously diminished.

I calculated one more hard run would take me to the trees – I was up with my pumpkin, and just approaching cruise speed when a 3 foot blue flame belched out from the trees, accompanied by a thunderous boom! I don’t believe I have ever been so terrified in all of my life! I dove into a weed covered ditch to hide from that dragon’s tongue. Luckily it was dry; I could not afford the

Yes - cannon Click for more cannon information

luxury of checking relative humidity before seeking refuge. I had no idea if the cannoneers had seen me or not (Cannon, to guard pumkins? Really?) but I wasn’t taking chances. I burrowed deeper into the weedy ditch. Then I spied Greg Strausbaugh kneeling beside the dirt road that the farm-truck cavalry was using for positioning their next assault. “Psssst!”, I was desperate, “Straus, get down!” He ignored me or didn’t hear me. My motivation was survival, not brotherly concern. Strausbugh would draw the attention of the attackers, and I was scant distance from Straus – they would surely see me too! I started inching away from Strausbaugh, dragging my 3X-Large pumpkin with me. The pickups rumbled by, stopping neither for Greg or myself. Finally, picking up my pumpkin I continued down the same road, trudging in the deep dark behind the headlight cones of intense brightness.

The pickups increased the distance rapidly, and soon I was walking along in silence and solitude…and dark. It felt safe in the dark. Circling around the back side of the field (I had charged into the mouth of the cannon directly away from Gordy’s pink pickup), I was finally on the home stretch – only about a mile to go to the extraction poiint. As I made my way toward safety and home, I ventured a smile of relief and exhultation – I was going to make it! Then headlights flashed on and swept in a brilliant arc toward me, a darkened pickup lighting up as it turned onto the road behind me. I rushed into the stubble field on my right. The same stubble field that offered me reassurance as we arrived so long ago, was now giving me safe haven as I tried to leave this killing field.

Deep into the stubble field, I began hearing the cries, back and forth, of our two Venezuelan cohorts. Trying to be helpful with my rusty spanish I yelled, “Marcha a la luna”; trying to get them to move toward the moon – but telling them to walk to the moon- which was lowering toward the western horizon. West, toward pink pickups and salvation. Soon, the slogging through the stubble became too tiresome, so I moved back onto the easier walking afforded by the road. Still carrying my pumpkin, I was thinking about what a great hero I would be, emerging from the smoke of battle with such a glorious prize! When again, lights boomed on behind me! Scampering into the stubble field again, like a frightened deer, I tripped on the rough ground and went down. Down full onto my great pumpkin, smashed across my chest. Nothing of glory and greatness now but pumpkin mush and a few stringy seeds smeared across the front of my shirt.

Tired of the stubble trek again, like the Kipling fool’s wobbling finger, I went back to the road, meeting up with Lester Suzaki on the way. Les and I marched forward in silence, grateful for company after terrified isolation. Again lights swept into position behind us. We both thew ourselves to our left (both tired of fighting the stubble field – at least I was), and through a blackberry hedge. Evidently our leap was through a gap in the hedge, because neither of us were scratched. But I don’t remember seeing a gap there, only a frantic desire to put the screen of blackberry bushes between me and that INFERNAL road!

We walked to the end of the blackbeerry hedge where stood the big, old oak, under which Gordy’s pink pickup and Joiner’s blue one, sat waiting to take us to home and safety. As we rounded the end of the blackberrys, my fright-numbed mind was slow in registering the sheriff’s cruiser, the police car and two or three strange pickups and faces and guns that were parked and milling about under the tree. I numbly stumbled forward, tired of the chase and willing for my fate. Les was evidently of a similar frame of mind.

When the gathered group noticed us, they burst out in laughter, slapping each other on the shoulders and bending over at the waist to better gather the deep guffaws they bellowed into the night air. There were the faces I saw behind the spotlights! Law enforcement was chuckling! There was Gordy, without a scratch!

Dixon Lodge - click for website. WAS a men's house, then co-ed, NOW all women...because of stuff like stealing pumpkins.

We - Lester Suzaki, the Venezualens, I and all the other freshmen had just been initiated into Dixon Lodge.

Feelin’ good’ll be good enough for me; good enough for me and my Uncle JC.

Posted on January 4, 2012 by Giles

Uncle JC was my childhood hero. He was a “real” cowboy. He was a rancher, he owned umpteen head of cattle, a working ranch in the Nebraska Sand Hills near Scottsbluff, and he rode horses on a regular basis. Grandpa McKnight was also a rancher. He and Grandma lived in an old sod house on their ranch about 5 miles away from Uncle JC’s place. By the time I met them, Grandpa was too old (in my mind) to be a cowboy, he was Grandpa. But Uncle JC was the real deal. Hat always worn at a jaunty tilt, a thin, debonair mustache, piercing blue eyes set in an olive complexion, a ready laugh and a persistent smile, he was always eager for a story or a joke – telling or hearing.

Nebraska Sand Hills

I can still hear him laughing as I tried to swallow a raw egg. I must have been 7 or 8, and it was one of those special summers in my life when we went to Nebraska to see our cousins and family on Mom’s side. While I was napping, my two older brothers and my two older cousins had won their bucks from Uncle JC by downing a raw egg, straight from the shell, and I was eager to earn my dollar. Since I was younger, Uncle JC felt some sympathy, so he cracked my egg into a jelly jar for me, and cautioned me not to break the yolk. By my count, I swallowed that egg at least five times, but the terms of the deal was keeping the egg down – and I couldn’t. It never hit my stomach, about ½ way down the gullet it would reverse direction and the next thing I knew, it was sitting there in the jelly jar as smug as you please. I didn’t get my dollar that afternoon, but Uncle JC gave me fifty cents for the entertainment.

But that’s not what this story is about. This story is about September 15^th of this year – or, more accurately, it is about what I hope will occur on that day.

Uncle Don and Aunt Wanda's house in Scottsbluff

A couple of years ago I decided to take Uncle Don, a die-hard Husker, to a Nebraska game. He loved football and followed the Huskers religiously, but had never been to a Husker game. The husband of Mom’s sister, he and Aunt Wanda lived in Scottsbluff, NE near where my mom grew up. Uncle Don suffered from a lung disease, and didn’t have too many years left. Uncle JC, and his wife, Auntie Marie, accepted my invitation to go along with us. I made the arrangements – the Huskers played at home during an Oregon State bye, found a source for tickets, and made reservations in Linclon using my hotel points. We were all ready to go.

I would fly into Denver, rent a car and drive to Scottsbluff on Thursday night. Friday morning we would all get into Uncle JC’s new Cadillac and drive to Lincoln. My uncles, both WWII era Army vets, were interested in going to the American Legion state headquarters in Lincoln, so we were set for more than a football game, it would be an EVENT! I was eager to finally see a Nebraska football game, but even more I was looking forward to seeing Uncle Don’s face as he walked into the stadium, and when he saw his beloved Huskers run out onto the field. Sadly, a few weeks before the anticipated day, Uncle Don took a turn for the worse, and he was unable to travel. I didn’t want to go to the game without Uncle Don, leaving him home while we did something he had dreamed of for decades – so Uncle JC and I agreed to cancel the trip. Uncle Don never got better, He died later that year.

Last fall the love of Uncle JC’s life, Aunt Marie, passed away. Not wanting any more opportunities to disappear, I asked Uncle JC go to Lincoln with me for the Iowa game on Friday, November 25^th. But once again, life and circumstances interfered, and I was unable to go to that game. I called with my regrets, and promised to set up our date for 2012.

I just checked the Beaver football schedule today, and found that our bye on September 15^th corresponds to a Husker home game with Arkansas State. So it’s time for me to make the arrangements.

I can’t wait to go with Uncle JC to Lincoln, riding in his Cadillac with Auntie Marie’s memory with us, and walking into Memorial Stadium sensing Uncle Don between us and watching his delight in our minds’ eyes as he sees his Huskers run out onto the field amidst a sea of screaming, waving red – Big Red.

Truth Has a Chance

A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on. –Winston Churchill

Category Archives: Oregon State University