JimFormation

My daughter goes to Stockton College. Stockton College’s formal name is Richard Stockton College of New Jersey. Richard Stockton.

Several years ago my paternal grandmother emailed me this (in part):

“… you have a relative who signed the Declaration of Independence, Richard Stockton. He was my Grandfather Anderson’s Great Uncle. My Grandfather’s (your Great-Great Grandfather’s) name was Adrain Stockton Anderson.“

Now, if I got my Great-greats right, that makes him my Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather’s brother. Pretty cool, huh?

Stockton is one of those men who, after signing the Declaration of Independence, lost everything. He was betrayed to the British, jailed, “treated with unusual severity and brutality that seriously affected his health”. His home was pillaged, ransacked and burned. He was left in very ill health and died an invalid under the care of friends.

All because he had the bravery and integrity to ball up his fist at oppression and seek freedom. A freedom which still, in somewhat diluted form, embraces this country.

Thank you Uncle Richard.

Thank you Grandma.

After my parents were divorced, I was raised by my maternal grandparents. Nan, my Grandmother, died almost 10 years ago. After all that time many of her quaint sayings still echo in my head. Some are oft repeated to my own children.

These are “Nannerisms.”

Nannerism I

Young Jim: Nan, I wish I could have some ice cream.

Nan: Wish in one hand and shit in the other. See which one fills faster.

Nannerism II

Nan: How did you do in blah, blah, blah today?

Young Jim: I did great! I blah, blah, blahed and came in first. I only made one mistake, but made up for it. Blah, blah, blah and won my blah.

Nan: Self praise stinks.

Nannerism III

Young Jim: Nan, if …

Nan: If the dog didn’t have to stop to take a shit he would’ve caught the rabbit.

Nannerism IV

I’ve heard …

… so many times, I didn’t know Nan said it wrong and “… and fly right” doesn’t quite make as big an impact on me when I hear it.

Nannerism V

Young Jim: Nan, can we turn up the heat? I’m cold.

Nan: Why? Do you have shit in your blood?

Nannerism VI

Young Jim: Hey Nan, I just heard …

Nan: Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see.

Nannerism VII

Young Jim: Nan, where’s the catsup?

Nan: If it was a snake, it would’ve bit you.

Nannerism VIII

Young Jim: Hey Nan, I want one of those (insert minimally priced item here).

Nan: Now you know what it’s like to want.

Nannerism IX

Young Jim: Hey Nan, I want one of those (insert moderately priced to expensive item here).

Nan: I’ll buy you two in case one breaks.

Nannerism X

Nan: I can’t believe she bought (insert luxury item here). She doesn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.

There are two types of people:
Those that categorize people into two types and those that don’t.

Or it could be that I’m wrong.

Maybe there are three types of people:
Those that are good at math and those that aren’t.

I am 47-years-old. Much of the music I enjoy listening to is  generation older than me. For example, right now I’m listening to The Band. The Weight was released in 1968. I was four years old.

Two of the prime movers of The Band were Levon Helm and Robbie Robertson: Helm is 71-years-old; Robertson is 68.

I recently saw David Gilmour (Pink Floyd) on television have to slip on his bifocals to play an instrument. Rock Gods don’t wear bifocals. Fuck.

Gilmour is 65.

Now I’m listening to Neil Young. Young is 63.

Iggy Pop is 61. Here’s a pic of Iggy. Still rocking. Rock God.

Fuck.

I stare at myself in the mirror and I think, ‘Wow, I’m really great-looking.’ … I think I’m the greatest, anyway. ~ Iggy Pop

I pulled the tiny Nikon 775 out of my pocket and showed him. In describing it I almost apologized that there weren’t many manual controls. “No control over shutter speed or aperture …”

He jumped in, “Aperture? Either you have light or you don’t.”

It was a quick, true, one-line lesson in photography. It’s not the aperture; indeed, it’s not any manual setting at all that dictates your photograph. It is the quality of available light that is the begin-all and end-all of photography.

This quick lesson was punctuated by him taking the $4.00 disposable camera I’d bought for him at Staples. A camera with no controls at all. A camera he’d lusted over the day before. A point-and-shoot he’d wanted to try since a friend of his said that it created outstanding 11”x17” prints.

“I’d already have one if I was able to get out of the house more,” he told me yesterday as he held up his cane and glanced down at his 95-year-old frame.

“I pass Staples everyday. And I work here on campus. I’ll pick one up tonight and drop it off tomorrow,” I said.

Edward Schwartz has been taking photographs for the better part of seventy years. I met him while he was showcasing his Okinawan photos in a public expo. Photos he’d taken during World War II of the indigenous people of Okinawa.

“How much do I owe you?” He reached in his pocket.

“No money, Mr. Schwartz. You owe me a cup of coffee and an hour to hear you talk about photography.”

“Deal!”

Either you have light or you don’t. Edward Schwartz has light.

According to the Des Moines Register:

Iowa City, Ia. — Tabitha Unternahrer, a Baptist minister’s daughter, grew up knowing the number 666 was associated with Satan. She didn’t want the number — even in the form of 6/6/06 — linked with her daughter.

That’s why Unternahrer, 23, of Wayland, rescheduled her Caesarean section birth, which originally would have been today at Mercy Hospital in Iowa City.

“I really didn’t want her to carry that birth date around,” Unternahrer said about her daughter, Taryn, who was born May 31.

Mrs. Unternahrer isn’t the only mom-to-be worried about giving birth to the Antichrist. Do a quick search on any news site and you’ll find scores of stories about women worried about giving birth on June 6, 2006. 6/6/06. 666. The number of the Beast.

The Revelation According to John says:

Let him who has understanding
calculate the number of the beast, for the number is that of a
man; and his number is six hundred and sixty-six.

Or so we thought.

You see, I’ve been following the brainiacs that have been decoding the Oxyrhynchus Papyri. Seriously, I have. I get Google News Alerts and everything. In 2005, these dudes found fragments of the oldest known Revelation According to John.

Guess what?

The number of the Beast is NOT 666.

It is 616.

It seems that a couple of centuries ago, some inept monk transcribed the wrong number.

I’m not kidding. You can read it yourself here.

You’re not going to read it yourself, are you? Sheesh. I’ll do the work for you.

The newest volume of Oxyrhynchus Papyri contains a fragmentary papyrus of Revelation which is the earliest known witness to some sections (late third / early fourth century). A detailed discussion of its place in the MS tradition is given in the printed volume. You will find images at 150dpi and 300dpi in the papyri section of this site, accessible from the main menu.

One feature of particular interest is the number that this papyrus assigns to the Beast: 616, rather than the usual 666.

See? For 2000 years, we’ve been looking for the wrong guy.

This is one of my all time favorite rolls on youtube. It shows Marcelo Garcia rolling with Andrei Arlovski.

Arlovski is about 70 pounds heavier than Garcia. Arlovski is an “International Master In Sambo” and Garcia is one of the best Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu grapplers on the planet.

I started the About page. Really, this entire website is going to be about me. There’s no real reason to write one, just show up and read. You’ll learn who I am.

But anyway, the About page has a bunch of crap in it already. Feel free to peruse it. I’ll update it from time-to-time once it’s completed.

It’s not completed yet. I mean, there’s still stuff to read. Have at it.

I’ve had an on-again, off-again love affair with, what I call, the personal web. Other people call it blogging; I don’t. Blahg.

I’ve had a personal website for a long time. I have hundreds of pages of archives that just aren’t here anymore. I have some of them on a hard drive somewhere. But they’re ancient history; who cares about them?

You’re all “blogging” now, you know?

That’s what you’re doing on Facebook and on Twitter and the like. Your telling your personal stories. On the web. In all sorts of different ways.

And people are reading and sharing. That’s the personal web.

And this is JimFormation.

I’ve been thinking …

God is too busy keeping the stars in the sky and trying to figure out what happened to all his bees to worry about your baseball team.

Pray wisely.