Fools Rush In

The danger is not the president but a citizenry capable of entrusting a man like him with the Presidency. It will be far easier to limit and undo the follies of a presidency than to restore the necessary common sense and good judgment to a depraved electorate willing to have such a man for their president. The problem is much deeper and far more serious than who is president and a mere symptom of what ails this nation. Blaming the prince of the fools should not blind anyone to the vast confederacy of fools that made him their prince. The Republic can survive a mistake of a president. It is less likely to survive a multitude of fools.

Myth #5 Hell is for Bad People

This is the most dangerous of all the myths about hell. “Hell is for bad people.” Of course, this is a tricky one, and it depends on what we mean when we say “bad people.” In my experience “bad people” simply means “other people.” People who have done worse than us, at least in our own estimation. Hell is for the bad, the worse, the worst. Hell is for Hitler and Hussain, John Wayne Gacey or Kim Jong-il. It’s not for us regular people. Good people. The one point of agreement we should have with this myth is that hell is for bad people. And we are all “bad.”

Jesus said no one is good, but God. The Apostle Paul wrote that no one is righteous, all have turned away from God and become worthless. Yes, we are all bad and worthy of eternal condemnation. While one woman might be practically worse than another, or one man’s sin might be more heinous than another’s, we are all equally sinners and in desperate need of God’s mercy.

Hell is for bad people, if by bad people we mean people like us. Our hope is not that we will become good people, or even better people. Our confidence before God is not that we will somehow stand out among the evil people in the world. Our hope and confidence before God is the gospel– the good news that everyone who believes in Jesus is united with him, counted righteous in him, and forgiven through him of all sin.

So, in one sense hell is for bad people, but in another sense so is heaven. The former receives those who have rejected the truth of God, while the latter receives those who have received Jesus.

You can not Opt-Out

Several weeks ago, I bought some exercise videos online. Then I noticed that whenever I did an Internet search about anything, an ad for that same video package and other similar workout videos kept popping up. It was spooky.

The whole thing reminded me of two scenes from the Tom Cruise movie “Minority Report.” In one, as Cruise is walking through a mall, various holographic ads pop up. There’s a commercial for Lexus, and, as Cruise strolls along, a voiceover says: “The road you’re on, John Anderton, is the one less traveled.” Another says: “John Anderton! You could use a Guinness right about now.” It’s creepy. In another scene, Cruise, who has gotten a new pair of eyes to avoid detection by the authorities, walks into a Gap store. His eyes are scanned, and a projected salesperson on a large screen refers to an earlier purchase by a “Mr. Yakamoto,” the previous owner of Cruise’s new eyes.

That scene was even creepier. Now Google has done something just as creepy: The company has a new privacy policy allowing it to track users’ activities by consolidating information it gathers on them as they use the company’s various Web sites. And users can’t opt out.

“Our privacy policies have always allowed us to combine information from different products with your account — effectively using your data to provide you with a better service,” Alma Whitten, Google’s director of privacy for products and engineering, said in a blog posting. “However, we’ve been restricted in our ability to combine your YouTube and search histories with other information in your account. Our new privacy policy gets rid of those inconsistencies so we can make more of your information available to you when using Google.”

Google says the policy changes have more to do with enhancing the services it provides than they do in advertising products and services. In fact, the company says it does not sell, trade or rent personally identifiable user information.

But do you see the word play here? Companies place ads that are matched to your online behavior. Your specific information may be anonymous, but it becomes a better commodity under Google’s new policy.

Google is proof of the tremendous economic value of individuals’ personal information because Google can collect data on individual’s specific interests through their Google searches, Gmail, YouTube, it theoretically can pitch ads better. But that inevitable march toward monetizing personal data butts up against privacy.

I have diverse interests and concerns, and want the information in my Web history to be kept separate from the information I exchange via Gmail. Likewise, I may be comfortable with Google knowing my search queries but not with it knowing my whereabouts, yet the new privacy policy appears to give no choice in the matter.

Google defends its actions by saying that if you object to its new information-sharing policy, you can use its privacy tools and edit or turn off your search history or YouTube history. You can also use services such as searches, Maps and YouTube without signing in. Or, the company says, you can stop using Google.

I often won’t register for or sign into a Web site because I don’t want to be tracked. However, I have willingly given up my personal information in exchange for promised discounts. I signed up for a loyalty program at a grocery store, and in return I get discounts on gas and food.

I’ve accepted that we’re in an age where information isn’t power — information is money.

 Give us the choice to be tracked without having to constantly erase our digital footprint. 

Golf

It's the way the first tee feels, alive with possibility.

It's that feeling, out of nowhere,

 that comes as you're lining up a putt,

letting you know that all you have to

 do is get the ball rolling and the

hole will get in the way.

It's the thump of a well-played bunker shot.

It's nine holes late in the day, when the sun 

is sinking and the shadows are

stretching, showing every bump and roll in a 

golden light that makes you

stop and look around.

It's calling your shot and pulling it off.

It's your Saturday morning game,

with a little money on the line

and no haggling about the teams.

It's the guys who

look like they can't play a lick

then spend their days around par,

not needing swing coaches,

just having a knack for getting

 the ball in the hole.

It's calling your own penalties.

It's a kid

with his bag slung over his shoulder,

cap pulled down low,

hoofing it down a fairway.

It's nipping a wedge just right,

having it bounce once and

cozy up to the hole.

It's a bowl of peanuts and

a cold drink at the end of the day,

when stories can be embellished,

if only a little.

It's the warm feel of a turtleneck in December,

 the first greening of the

grass in March, the thrill of hitting it a club longer

 in July and greens as

fast as the kitchen floor in October.

It's the suntan marks

left by your golf socks and shoes.

It's having the sun behind you and

catching a tee shot square,

having a moment to admire it

as it's framed against the sky.

It's the small but sudden thrill of finding a 

new Titlist, even if you

already have a bagful.

It's the clutch in your throat the first time

 you see St. Andrews and the

never-ending thrill of Amen Corner.

It's the belief that

the magic you've found in a new driver

will last forever.

It's the scent of salt air,

the faint taste of pine pollen on your lips

 and the glimpse of a gator in a

low country lagoon.

It's standing over a 5-footer

that doesn't matter to anyone but you

and being thankful for the feeling.

It's Mickelson with a wedge in his hand,

 and Nicklaus on the property.

It's the little places with

pickups in the parking lot,

ragged grass, bumpy greens,

worn-out golf carts, yellow range balls,

 and a spirit all its own.

It's the way you practice your swing

in the elevator riding down,

the way you put an overlapping grip on

 the rake, and the way you see golf

holes where others just see fields along the highway.

It's the way tournament golf feels,

even if it's just a little club event.

It's the feel of new grips

and the shine of new irons.

It's playing with your father, your brother, your son.

It's listening to David Feherty, Johnny Miller and 

Nick Faldo explain the

game as only they can.

It's the gentle creak of aging muscles in the evening,

 a good tired.

It's winning the press at the 18th.

It's going for a par-5 in two,

trying to cut a corner, and that instant when

 you wonder if the shot is as

good as it looks.

It's golf.    And it's why we play the game.

Federal Budget Explained

Total United States Federal Tax Revenue                   $2,170,000,000,000
Federal Budget                                                            $3,820,000,000,000
New Debt                                                                    $ 1,650,000,000,000
National Debt                                                             $14,271,000,000,000
Recent Budget Cuts                                                         $38,500,000,000

Now Remove 8 zeros and pretend it is a household budget.

Annual Family income                                                                    $21,700
Money the family spent                                                                  $38,200
New debt on credit card                                                                 $16,500
Outstanding debt on credit card                                                  $142,710
Money family was going to spend but now promises not to.                $385

Now I wonder why the federal government thinks they
deserve a top credit rating.