Only

Finally, a cappella music gets its due.

This clip is from the NBC show The Sing-Off, the show which showcased voices-only groups. 

This group, Voices of Lee, took third place … but should have taken first.  This is their cover of “No One,” by Alicia Keys.  The lead is phenomenal, but the bgv’s are outstanding.  Take a listen.

Crisis

A Christmas Crisis?

Americans spend $450,000,000,000, in just thirty days, for the Christmas holiday.  And moneysupermarket.com claims that four out of five people will unwrap presents they neither want, or need. 

We are in a Christmas crisis.  Perhaps there is value in this post, then:

“You Shouldn’t Have:  The Economic Argument For Never Giving Another Gift”
by Joel Waldfogel
for Slate Magazine

With just three weeks till Christmas, the Red Bull-infused phase of the holiday shopping season is upon us. If recent history is any guide, the month of December alone—with just 8 percent of the year’s shopping days—will bring 23 percent of the year’s sales at jewelry stores, 16 percent at department stores, and 15 percent at electronics stores. U.S. December retail sales can be expected to exceed sales in other months by $65 billion. Finally, some good news for the economy. Or maybe not.

Normally—during the 11 non-December months of the year—I’ll spend $50 on something only if it’s worth at least $50 to me. Typically, measures of spending provide a lower-bound on the value of the satisfaction that buyers expect to reap from their purchases. While some of our own purchases ultimately disappoint, we generally buy well for ourselves, so using spending as a barometer of consumer satisfaction makes sense. Spending on gifts is different. When I set out to spend $50 on you, I operate at a significant disadvantage. I’m not certain about what you have or what you want, so when I spend $50 on a gift, I may buy something worth nothing to you. There’s no guarantee that consumer satisfaction meets, exceeds, or even comes close to the amount spent on the gift.

How much satisfaction do we purchase with the $65 billion worth of stuff we put under the tree? Over the past 15 years, I’ve done a lot of surveys asking gift recipients about the items they’ve received: Who bought it? What did the buyer pay? What’s the most you would have been willing to pay for it? Based on these surveys, I’ve concluded that we value items we receive as gifts 20 percent less, per dollar spent, than items we buy for ourselves. Given the $65 billion in U.S. holiday spending per year, that means we get $13 billion less in satisfaction than we would receive if we spent that money the usual way—carefully, on ourselves. Americans celebrate the holidays with an orgy of value destruction. Worldwide, the waste is almost twice as large.

But doesn’t this analysis ignore the joy of giving? you ask. Can’t that joy make up for the inefficiency of gift giving? Let’s consider an example. Your Aunt Mildred buys you a $50 sweater. You don’t hate it, but you don’t love it, either. In all likelihood, you’d have bought it for yourself only if it was a steal—let’s say you’d have been willing to pay no more than $30 for it. So far, her gift appears to destroy value. But suppose Mildred got joy in giving the gift, and while it would be hard to do so with any precision, let’s suppose we can attach a dollar value to Mildred’s joy. For the sake of discussion, let’s say it’s another $30. That would bring the total benefit of the transaction to $60, $10 more than its cost. But wait: If Aunt Mildred got the same joy from giving you a sweater you actually wanted—worth its $50 price tag to you—then the transaction could have created $80 in value. Relative to this, the bad gift misses out on $20 worth of satisfaction. So even accounting for the joy of giving, our gift-giving is inefficient. Of course, it’s also possible that Mildred enjoys giving you only sweaters you do not like, but if so, then Mildred is a sadist. And I doubt that sadism motivates the vast lot of gift giving.

It’s bad enough that we buy a lot of stuff that no one wants. It turns out we buy it using money we don’t yet have. It wasn’t always this way. In the 1930s, almost 10 percent of Christmas spending was financed with money squirreled away into Christmas clubs—bank accounts paying little interest but helping consumers save for the holiday. Participants promised to contribute weekly, frequently as little as $0.25 at a time. These accounts were popular because they helped even unsophisticated consumers—many of whom didn’t have another bank account—avoid the temptation to fritter their money away. Since 1970, by contrast, the explosive growth in consumer credit has had the opposite effect, helping consumers fall prey to their lack of self-control when it comes to borrowing. In recent years, one-third of holiday spending is still not paid off two months after Christmas.

Hold on there! Isn’t spending good for the economy? The economy consists of buyers and sellers. In normal transactions, the seller gets a price exceeding his cost and therefore makes some profit, while the buyer gets an item she values at or above its price (in which case the buyer receives some surplus). A well-functioning market maximizes the joint surplus experienced by sellers and buyers. With gift giving, the seller still gets his profit, but the ultimate consumer (the gift recipient) gets an item that produces less satisfaction than an equal amount of spending would have led to if she had purchased an item for herself. So, is holiday spending good for the economy? It’s good for sellers, but it’s not sufficiently good at producing satisfaction for the ultimate consumers. And most of us are, after all, consumers rather than sellers.

Second, while cash is in principle an appealing gift, as it allows the recipient to choose something she actually wants, it’s considered tacky in our culture. Gift cards are probably the next best thing, although you need to be careful about fees and about losing them. Gift cards would be even better if their unspent balances—10 percent of spending by some accounts—went automatically to charity after a few years. With about $80 billion in annual gift card sales, there’s $8 billion at stake here.

OK, Professor Scrooge, I can’t really just not give anyone gifts—do you have any advice for how to give better gifts? First off, keep giving gifts to people you know well and see often, especially kids. When you know your recipients’ wants and needs, your gifts are far less likely to destroy value. Gifts from givers in daily or weekly contact are, on average, about 10 percent more satisfying, per dollar spent, than those from givers in only monthly or yearly contact. In fact, the right gift can, in some circumstances, be even more satisfying than what the recipient would have done with cash. While textbook economics views people as fully aware of all the things they might like to buy, in reality our friends sometimes know about things we’d like before we learn of them. In those situations, well-chosen gifts can allow us to enjoy wonderful items that we did not know existed.

Finally, gifts to charity on behalf of recipients deserve a look. Such gifts can allow your friends and family to experience a luxury they probably can’t usually afford. While luxury evokes images of jewelry and fancy chocolates, if you look at household spending data, one of the clearest luxuries—that is, an item whose share of expenditure rises with income—is charitable giving. So charity gift cards (offered by Charity Navigator or TisBest.org), which allow recipients to choose which charity gets the money, make it possible for recipients to act like rich guys, while transferring resources to high-value uses. Admittedly, these would be terrible gifts for 11-year-old boys, but they may be an ideal way to fulfill your giving obligations with other adults. Like it or not, we are about to go on our annual holiday spending sprees. That spending can be a force for waste or a force for good. Think twice before you put that sweater on your Visa.

Joel Waldfogel is the Ehrenkranz professor of business and public policy at the Wharton School. This article is drawn from his new book, Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn’t Buy Presents for the Holidays.

For another take, visit The Advent Conspiracy.  You’ll be glad you did.

Blue

Morpheus holds out his hands, with two pills.  One blue.  The other red.  His sunglasses cannot hide his smile, his look, as he knows his offer to Neo would not be rejected.  Lightning screams with violent cracks, and flashes through the curtained windows, and the glass of water on the table beckons.

Morpheus then speaks.  “This is your last chance.  After this, there is no turning back.  You take the blue pill — the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe.  You take the red pill — you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”

__________

I think of that quote often.  I wrote a discussion guide for our small group leaders a couple of weeks ago about our online identities, and the more I read, and researched, the more alarmed I became.    

The story was about the decline of privacy through the increasing wave of the digital world, as it sweeps over our lives.   An entire American generation has taken the blue pill, and has become part of a stream of information, in a cyber world, that is never-ending, chosing to remain a part of what could very well be called the matrix.

Every data, every text, every tweet, every status update, every email, every uploaded picture or video, is now cemented in the vaults of servers, from individual IP addresses.

Every bit of digital information is thought-based, though.  Everything uploaded has to be premeditated, which means even the awful things we put online must undergo some thought process.  Stories emerge constantly of people regretting their online posts.  And I think more and more people will, one day, wish they had taken the red pill.  Because as our world grows more and more comfortable with avatars and tweets, in the chance that we could have greater connections with others through a digital world, we are also growing more and more disconnected.  Life is now lived on a computer screen, with children spending, on average, six hours in front of some kind of screen every day.

So when I read this article, all of these thoughts washed around in my head.  There is a trend now, of people unplugging, or going offline, or, in essence, taking the red pill, and are wanting to disconnect from this strange world of keyboards and screens and updates. 

Be warned, though.  The story is a little bizarre, but the intent is interesting. 

‘Anti-social network’ claims to be a Facebook killer app
by Rory Mulholland
AFP.com/ Yahoo news

Facebook makes you despair? Social networking makes you want to end it all? You may be ready for online ritual suicide with the aid of a new website that helps you kill your virtual identity.

“Impress your friends, disconnect yourself,” is the slogan on www.seppukoo.com, a site that aims to subvert Facebook by offering its millions of users a glorious end and a memorial page to match.

“Rather than fall into the hands of their enemies, ancient Japanese samurai preferred to die with honour, voluntarily plunging a sword into the abdomen and moving it left to right in a slicing motion,” the site notes.

This form of ritual suicide was known as “seppuku.”

“As the seppuku restores the samurai’s honour as a warrior, seppukoo.com deals with the liberation of the digital body,” the site says.

Today the enemy is not other bands of noble warriors but corporate media who use viral marketing to make huge profits by connecting people across the globe.

“Seppukoo playfully attempts to subvert this mechanism by disconnecting people from each other and transforming the individual suicide experience into an exciting ’social’ experience.”

The site, which uses its own viral marketing strategy to lure in disgruntled social networkers, is part of a protest wave that sees Facebook as a potentially dangerous entity beholden to corporate interests. 

It offers ritual suicide for Facebook users in five easy steps.

Willing victims must first log in to seppukoo.com by typing in the same information they use to go on to their Facebook profile. 

They then choose one of several memorial RIP page templates before writing their last words, which the site promises to send to all their Facebook friends when they have taken the final step.

Once the user has made that fatal final click, his or her Facebook profile is deactivated.

But in what might be seen as a bit of a cheat, virtual life goes on after the ritual suicide.

It comes in the form of testimonials friends can write on the memorial page or by rising in the seppukoo ranks by scoring points with every former Facebook friend who follows your lead and commits hara-kari.

The top scorer in that game is currently a blonde woman who uses the name Simona Lodi and who passed into the post-Facebook world on November 5. 

But seppukoo.com has some way to go before it attracts anything near the more than 300 million users Facebook currently boasts. On Wednesday it pulled in only half a dozen Facebookers ready to end it all.

Its owners — whose website says are an “imaginary art-group from Italy” — told AFP by email that over 15,000 people had done the deed and over 350,000 Facebook users had received an invite to follow suit.

Facebook did not immediately reply when contacted by AFP to ask if it saw seppukoo.com as a threat and if it planned any action to block it.

To reinforce the tongue-in-cheek approach of seppukoo.com, the group’s art director — who uses the name Guy McMusker — replied when asked if he was a Facebook user: “Of course. We’re not Luddites. We’re incoherent.

The group is called “Linking The Invisible”‘ and its website says it is made up of media artists Clemente Pestelli and Gionatan Quintini whose work explores “the invisible links between the infosphere, neural synapsis, and real life.”

“Seppukoo admits that it is in reality a social networking group but seeks to distinguish itself from Facebook by noting that it will store no data and its server will not sell data to any third party.

“If you’ve trusted a merciless company (Facebook) until now, we hope you can also trust an imaginary artist group,” it says. McMusker said the site was not set up with a view to making money.

The RIP memorial page it offers Facebook dissidents could easily be mistaken for a real memorial for a real deceased person. But McMusker rejected suggestions it was in bad taste and said that no-one was likely to be upset.

“Just take it easy,” he wrote.

In the real world, suicide is obviously a one-way trip. But in the virtual world even a would-be subversive site like seppukoo.com cannot prevent your resurrection.

If you realise that leaving Facebook was a mistake, all you have to do is log back on again and your profile is instantly restored.

__________

Eventually, real life was too heavy of a burden for Cypher, and in the movie, The Matrix, he killed and sabotaged to find his way back to the land of make-believe.  His preference for the online world was no match for the truth of his situation.  For us, our online world is in a steady merge with reality.  But that is a reality that should all scare us.

For we become beholden to the machine, enslaved by the fake world of a light blue aura that shines into our eyes in the middle of the night, from a flat screen, or a handheld phone. 

So many people want genuine community, that the flat buzz of a monitor is too enticing, and offers community, though skewed as it is.  Because if people are devaluing real interaction, then all of our institutions which offer genuine community are headed for a change we may not want.

Africa

Take a moment and listen to the Perpetuum Jazille choir perform “Africa,” in October, 2008. 

Remember

I often think about the Eucharist.  I am amazed at how little, in the New Testament, it is mentioned.  Most often, it is called, simply, “breaking bread,” and seems to imply that the Eucharist of the early church may have been a memorial meal, shared by all of the saints, which offered a chance of fellowship and memory, possibly not unlike our own Thanksgiving meals.

We have moved it to something very somber, though.  Most faiths tend to have it as a part of the design of worship, with specific prayers.  Some faiths, even, have the Eucharist offered by a leader in the church.  And, like most human things, it has its varying degrees of executions, but always with some sort of quiet meditation.

And that is not wrong, or offensive.  I shared a conversation with a member of my church, just last week, who said he has grown tired of an image of a crucifed Christ displayed during the communion moments.  Instead, he wanted a picture of an empty tomb, because, he said, “that’s what all of this is about, anyway.”

I believe our exercising of the Eucharist would be found insulting by those in the earliest models of the Christian church.  What seems to be a celebratory meal of fellowship has been turned into just another moment in the design of a worship event.  Long gone are the loaves of bread, broken together, with large pieces eaten and chased by overflowing cups of wine.   Instead, there are small wafers, and a slight sip, all with the idea to remember the remarkable moment in the Christian faith.

Maybe these ideas are foreign to you.  Perhaps you worship in a church where the Eucharist is only observed during special days, or occassions, or maybe you worship in a church where communion is shared every Sunday.  Either way, it deserves a second look.

Which brings me to the following story.  It is a slight story about the Berlin Wall, but I think it says volumes about the human desire to simply remember, both the awful, and the celebrations which follow.

Twenty Years After, Berlin Wall Gets a Facelift
by Kristen Grieshaber, for the Associated Press

Stroke by stroke, Gerhard Kriedner applied pink acrylic paint with a small brush on a 14-yard stretch of the Berlin Wall, recreating the mural he first painted months after the Berlin Wall came down on Nov. 9, 1989.

Kriedner and 90 artists from around the world have gathered again to repaint their original creations on the concrete slabs, bringing new life to images that have been eroded by the elements over the last two decades, on the longest remaining length of the wall that once split Germany’s capital.

“This is a very emotional thing for me,” Kriedner, 69, said, adding that he escaped from communist East Germany to the West himself as a young man. “The Berlin Wall stands for the total lack of freedom we had at the time.”

While Berliners were initially eager to tear down the city’s most detested symbol, in recent months there has been a major effort to restore the 3/4 mile-long (1.3-kilometer) dilapidated East Side Gallery — a major tourist attraction with 106 different paintings and graffiti.

“The wall was rotten through and through,” Kriedner said on a recent chilly, overcast autumn day as he put the finishing touches on his mural — a dark, barren landscape with bursting soap bubbles colored pink and light blue, his interpretation of the promise of Socialist dreams colliding with reality.

“In order to restore the wall, the entire artwork was scraped off, the concrete was chiseled down to the steel insides, and then everything had to be reapplied, but this time with waterproof acrylic paints,” the Bavarian artist said, adding that he’d been working off a photo of his original piece to ensure the new version mimicked the original.

Kani Alavi, the head of the East Side Gallery’s Artists’ Association, has been the driving force behind the restoration work that started in October 2008. Alavi lobbied for years to collect the euro2.5 million ($3.7 million) from the city, state and federal governments needed for the restoration process. That included room and board for the artists, who otherwise worked for free.

Of the initial group of artists, only five declined to participate in the renovation project. Six others died and their murals have been restored by other artists.

“We thought it was really important to recreate the paintings because, by now, there’s a whole new generation that no longer remembers the original Berlin Wall and the historic events that led to Germany’s reunification,” said Alavi, an Iranian-born artist who had already restored his own mural of East Germans crossing Checkpoint Charlie into West Berlin on the night the border opened for the first time.

Every day, the East Side Gallery in Berlin’s formerly eastern Friedrichshain neighborhood attracts thousands of tourists who pose for snapshots in front of the murals.

The western side of the wall was covered in graffiti during the decades after the barrier was erected on Aug. 13, 1961. The eastern side stood barren, desolate and guarded by stern border police for decades. Only after the wall’s collapse did a group of Berlin artists decide to decorate the stretch — the first joint art project of the formerly divided city.

They called on artists from around the world to join them in expressing their feelings in paint and color on the formerly untouchable east side of the wall.

“We had nothing, only cheap paint and brushes, but we were so euphoric about all the historic changes and we wanted to express them in our paintings,” Alavi said, adding that the murals show the joy and hopefulness of overcoming injustice that people believed was possible at the time.

Since then, pollution, weather and time turned famous images like the fraternal communist kiss between East German leader Erich Honecker and Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev, or the East German Trabant car that appears to be bursting through the wall, into a sad sight — with long cracks in the concrete and big chunks of paint flaking off.

Then there were the souvenir-seekers who chipped off pieces of rock or scrawled their names and messages atop the paintings.

The East Side Gallery received historic monument status in 1991. But despite new signs asking visitors not to tamper with the bright new paintings, it’s uncertain whether the new art will be free from graffiti, vandalism or souvenir hunters.

Some, however, didn’t seem to mind that prospect.

Julie Zinser, a tourist from Riverside, California who was strolling down along the wall said she loved the paintings, but the bright new colors made the it look less authentic.

“It seems like the gritty beauty of this city got a little lost,” Zinser said and then posed for a photo with her two daughters.

The Berlin Wall

The Berlin Wall

What is a memory worth, anyway?  To these artists, it is a teaching moment, a moment when the world will once again understand the oppressive effects of a dividing wall broken against a surge of freedom.  Old artists now want to use it as a canvas, to teach this generation of such a powerful moment, for those in Germany, and even in the world.

We have a need to remember.  We glance through old photographs, share stories around weekend dinners, watch black and white films, all because we really do like to remember those moments.

The Eucharist is a common memory, then, a chance to again find great peace and celebration in an act of deliverance.  But what is this memory worth to you?

Tough

Perhaps this sounds familiar:

Tough Decisions on Sports Sunday
by Scoop Jackson
espn.com

I have a friend who recently got an e-mail from his pastor:

“Dear Jon, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face during service on Sundays. It would be really nice to see you return to worship with us.”

Ugh. The guilt. When I talked to Jon during the week, I asked him where he was watching the game that Sunday. I knew that Jon, a huge Chicago Bears fan, was getting mentally prepped to watch the Bears beat the lowly Detroit Lions.

Jon didn’t have an answer.

But Jon’s problem that particular week wasn’t his love affair with just the Bears; rather, it was his love affair with sports.  Of all Sundays for the Lord (or in this case, one of the Lord’s messengers) to interrupt, that one was one of the worst.  Not only were the Bears playing the Lions, but the second games of the day were huge matchups.  The Saints against the Jets was a matchup of two undefeated teams. The Broncos against the Cowboys is a big game on any Sunday. To make matters worse, Game 3 of the WNBA Finals was that day, too. Just to give you an indication of how deep Jon is into women’s basketball, he was the one who told me about Ashley and Courtney Paris before they went to Oklahoma.

Then there were the baseball games taking place at the same time as the NFL games. Not just any baseball games — playoff-deciding games on the last day of the regular season! Twins-Royals and Tigers-White Sox with the AL Central title on the line.

Did I mention that Jon is a season ticket holder for the White Sox? He loves baseball.

Jon was struggling with his decision for three days. The e-mail from his pastor was weighing heavily on him. He knew that ever since football season began, he had been having trouble making it to the noon service. His wife gave him “the look” every Sunday morning when she walked out the door. His kids didn’t know any better, saying, “Have fun watching your game, Daddy,” as they left for Sunday school.

None of that made Jon budge. But when the pastor personally e-mails you to say that out of a congregation of more than 500, he misses your face, that’s hard to ignore. That’s guilt.

But my man had a plan — as any true sports fan would. While he was finally answering my question about where he would watch the game, he spit out the blueprint.

“OK, I’m going to TiVo the Bears-Lions game while I’m at church,” he said. “I’ll get home by 2 p.m. I won’t listen to the radio or talk to anyone so they won’t tell me the score, and I can just start watching the game from the beginning when I get home. At the same time, like during the commercials, I can check in on the Saints-Jets game and the Cowboys-Broncos game.”

“Bro, you forgot about the WNBA game,” I said, reminding him that it would be virtually impossible to watch four games at one time.

“OK, then I’ll just DVR the Mercury-Fever game and watch it after I watch all three of the football games,” he rationalized.

Then I threw him two more roadblocks.

“Jon, two things,” I said. “One, you are not going to be able to watch the other football games live, because at some point the ticker at the bottom of the screen will tell you the result of the Bears-Lions game. … And did you forget that the Steelers and the Chargers are the Sunday night game?”

He was stuck. Stuck between a rock and a sports Sunday. No man is supposed to choose athletic worship over religious fellowship. Yet every Sunday during the football season, MLB postseason and WNBA Finals, we have to do just that: choose.

Most of us find ways to work it out. Work it out with our families; work it out with God.

But this time, there was a third party. A third party that put a level of guilt into the situation that no man could shake. “… It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face during service on Sundays. It would be really nice to see you return to worship with us.”

Jon wrestled with the decision for days. I never sweated him to find out what he was going to do. I really didn’t think he had a choice.

I called him Sunday night, at halftime of the Steelers/Chargers game. “How about them Bears!” he screamed into the phone. “Them Saints, and I think the Broncos are for real! I forgot they had Brian Dawkins. And did you see Jason Kubel? Two three-run blasts. Six RBIs!”

It seemed as if he didn’t miss anything. I was wondering how he’d gotten it all in and not missed church. Impossible.

“Yeah, but Fams, you missed [a great] WNBA game,” I said, assuming he had to miss something.

“No, I didn’t,” he shot back. “And even though [Diana] Taurasi was cold from outside all game, they still should have gotten the ball to her to take the final shot. She woulda nailed it.”

I sat on the other end of the phone, confused and quiet, trying to figure it all out. He couldn’t have … naw, not that. I know he didn’t not go to church. Did he?

“I know what you are thinking,” he said in the midst of my silence. “And yes, I did go to church. The pastor was checking for me.”

As it turned out, he simply watched the Bears-Lions game and followed both baseball games on his BlackBerry during Sunday’s service. He said to me: “Hey, God understands. He’s a Bears fan, too.” 

Invisible

Behold the invisibility of artist Liu Bolin.

Liu Bolin, an artist in Beijing, captured the previous images, after an investment of ten hours per photograph.

His ability to successfully adapt to his environment has gained him international fame.  Concerning his work, he wrote the following statement, found here:

Now, in the real material world, the world views of different people’s are also different. Each person chooses his/her own way in the process of contacting outside world. I choose to merge myself into the environment. Saying that I am disappeared in the environment, it would be better to say that the environment has licked me up and I can not choose active and passive relationship.

In the environment of emphasizing cultural heritage, concealment is actually no place to hide.

It is hard to not be reminded of similar words, found in the New Testament:

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

A very powerful, visual reminder — concealment is nothing more than a blending with an oppressive environment. 

Transforming power can only be found in an escape.

Displayed

The following images were photographed by Jim Reed.  They are also published in his book Storm Chaser:  A Photographer’s Journey

They capture an awesome power, throughout the universe displayed.

Thunderstorm in Oklahoma, 2002

Thunderstorm in Oklahoma, 2002

Isolated Thunderstorm in Kansas, 2004

Isolated Thunderstorm in Kansas, 2004

A Super Storm in Kansas

A Super Storm in Kansas

A Supercell near Medicine Lodge, Kansas

A Supercell near Medicine Lodge, Kansas

A Tornado, 500 Feet In Front of a Kansas State Trooper Patrol Car

A Tornado, 500 Feet In Front of a Kansas State Trooper Patrol Car

__________

If your thirst for such images has not been satisfied, you can find more here.

Top

Buzz Aldrin once said that from the moon, he could cover the earth with the tip of his thumb.

When I vacation in the Gulf of Mexico, I often stand with my ankles in the ocean, and look away, over the waters, to the horizon, and have my own feelings of insignificance.  There is much I do not understand about the plan of God here.

It is humbling to feel so insignificant.  And the following images only add to that humility.

The pictures, released by NASA, were taken from satellites and astronauts.  From on top of the world, they provide a glimpse of our home as if it were nothing more than the toy of a child.

The photographs are both inspiring, and chilling.  The palate of our planet is beautiful, but frightening, as we get a glimpse into how small even our largest elements really are.

A mosaic of NASA satellite images.

A mosaic of NASA satellite images.

The Great Barrier Reef, with the colonies of coral.

The Great Barrier Reef, with the colonies of coral.

The Manam Volcano, of Papua New Guinea, with billows of smoke rising into the atmosphere

The Manam Volcano, of Papua New Guinea, with billows of smoke rising into the atmosphere.

The Amazon and Negro Rivers of South America, during flooding season

The Amazon and Negro Rivers of South America, during flooding season.

Dust from the Sahara Desert, blowing over the British Isles

Dust from the Sahara Desert, blowing over the British Isles.

Above

Mt. Everest is 29,035 feet above sea level, making the tip of the great mountain the highest point on planet Earth.

It is also a sight few of us will ever see with our own eyes.

But Leo Dickinson took a photograph of the mountain, a mile above its summit.  Taken in 1991, it is claimed to be the “best picture on earth.”  Take a look.

Mt. Everest, from one mile above the summit.

Mt. Everest, from one mile above the summit.

To the left of the summit is Nepal, and to the right of the summit is Tibet.  Surrounding Everest, too, are nine of the highest summits on the planet.   At an altitude of 36,000 feet, Dickinson was in the stratosphere, in a hot air balloon, when he snapped the photograph.  He also braved a temperature of minus 56C for the journey, and the picture. 

Such an impressive view from above the tops of the earth, inspiring and breath-taking, even when viewing it in this medium.  It is a testament to the beauty and the mystery of creation, and the matchless wonder of our home.  God is truly the giver of all good things, including this playground we call Earth.

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