Bizarre

Bizarre: (adj) very strange or unusual

Dictionary B

The pursuit of normal has grown to abnormal proportions.

It is more than a mindset–it is a deep, ingrained fear that the slightest step from the prepared pathway will bring ridicule or destruction.

This has brought our society to an unnecessary impasse. We’ve divided into two unseemly camps–unseemly in the sense that neither gathering has acquired the high road.

There are those who believe that anything that cannot be lifted up in righteous glory from the King James Version needs to be extracted from our country, out of a fear of heavenly judgment.

Then there are those who are so uncertain where to place the lines that they’ve removed all the grid and assumed that everything is all right as long as it makes someone happy.

So we have no definition for right and wrong, just a judgment of what is wrong and a free pass on what is right.

What is bizarre?

I think anything that kills human beings is bizarre.

I would venture to say that stealing our life force and joy is also bizarre.

And certainly, it is bizarre when we set about to destroy ourselves or other people through gossip and vapid hatred.

If we could determine what is truly bizarre and agree upon the parameters, we could begin to progress and surprise ourselves at how happy we actually can be.

But until then, there will be two camps warmed by two very different fires.

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Bittersweet

Bittersweet: (adj) sweet with a bitter aftertaste.

Dictionary B

There is a reality that follows every miracle.

A “morning after” to each and every excitement.

An epilogue to a happy ending.

There is an unwelcome balance in life which often tries to cloud the beauty of a single giddy moment with an overall coloration of gray.

It’s why the human race–through blessed by sunshine–still curses the rain. It just doesn’t seem to be even.

So we naturally begin to focus on problems. We worry. We conjure additional sadness, awaiting the next conflict.

This is why, whether you are in China, England, Japan, or the United States, you will meet human beings who are tinged with a little despair, waiting for the present flickering flame of joy to be blown out by a new foul wind of difficulty.

So is it mature to be cautious, since at any moment our sense of satisfaction can be dampened? Or is there a certain charm in ignoring the tribulation and instead, mustering a determined good cheer?

It is bittersweet

People will argue this until the day they die.

It is at that juncture that most of us hope we are wrong … that there really is a happy ending.

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Bitter

Bitter: (adj) angry, hurt, or resentful

Nothing ever gets better if we insist it should never have happened.Dictionary B

It is the source of all bitterness.

Discussion is avoided because the mere mention of the event creates such a ferocious response that conversation is impossible.

Maybe there’s a little arrogance tied to it. Perhaps it is this “life in a bubble” experience that we all desire–which is continually burst. Then not only are we offended, but also find ourselves rigidly refusing to consider reconciliation.

Why?

  • Because “how dare he?”
  • Or “how dare she?”
  • Or even “how dare they?”

Even though we acknowledge they are just human beings, we still think they should have had the divine insight to be aware that we should not have been challenged.

The Good Book calls bitterness a root.

It is a seed of pride which we plant in the dirt of failure, which sprouts a rage burrowing deep within our soul, disguising its presence.

So we cover up bitter with apathy … and we insist our apathy is just a preference or a decision to move on.

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Bit Part

Bit part: (n) a small acting role in a play or a movie.

Dictionary B

Important.

The word begins with I-mI’m.

Failure occurs when we are found to be asleep at the wheel when opportunity drives by.

There are no bit parts in life. It is all an issue of whether I’m included.

If I’m included, I’m involved.

If I’m involved, I’m studying the situation.

If I’m studying the situation, I’m finding better ways to accomplish the goal.

Finding these ways, I’m even more excited about my part.

That excitement translates into a sense of energy and all at once, I’m a human battery, generating power to those around me.

As I generate power to those around me, I’m valuable.

When I become valuable, I’m needed.

When I’m needed, I get considered for parts, positions and possibilities that are larger than the tasks I’m presently performing.

I’m called up.

This is the way life was meant to work before we decided that some things just don’t matter.

If you can’t get thrilled about something small and make it better, you never get the chance to do better but instead will always remain small.

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Bite

Bite: (v) to use the teeth to cut into something

For the solace, comfort and sanity of all humankind, it is very important that we understand that no one is naturally good at parenting.Dictionary B

There are no books you can read which will add any permanent sense of well-being to the practice, but instead, offer divergent theories which may work for a time, and then fall into piles of ridiculous.

I had children. (I still have them–they’re just not quite as childish as they used to be.)

I remember when my two oldest were at their youngest, and only a year-and-a-half apart. The older one decided he liked to bite his little brother.

We explained to him that this was not good etiquette.

We shared how much his bites were painful to his little brother.

With his four-year-old face, he listened intently, only to turn around ten minutes later and go on a “chomp fit.”

I was at a loss.

Finally one day, immediately after he had inflicted a fresh wound on his sibling, I leaned over, grabbed his chubby leg, and bit into his fatty tissue.

He screamed out in pain and continued to holler for about ten more minutes.

After he calmed down, I came very close to his face with mine, and said, “That’s what it feels like when you bite someone.”

Even though for a season he was a little afraid to be around me for fear that I had taken up full-fledged cannibalism, he never bit his brother again.

You see, there was a time in our country when we evaluated the power of a solution by whether it worked. Now we consider if such actions are proper, appropriate, bullying or will leave a lasting neurosis.

Too bad.

Because my solution for having a son who liked to bite was convincing him, through my actions, that he had bitten off more than he could chew.

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Bitch

Bitch: (n) a female dog, wolf, fox, or otter.

Dictionary B

Her name was Mrs. Calvert.

She was my seventh grade science teacher.

The reason I remember her name so well is that she was constantly telling people how to pronounce it, even though it was not particularly difficult to speak.

She also had another annoying practice. She decided, since I was a fat boy, that I had limited ability. So when she took the class to the science museum, she explained to me–in front of everyone else–that there was an elevator available if I didn’t feel I could climb all the stairs.

I was not only humiliated, but was targeted by my classmates for further ridicule.

It was devastating. She was a fat bigot.

But if you had asked her, she would have merely shared her concern for my well-being.

It is exactly the same way I think America handles gender.

We “Calvert” it.

Yes, just like Mrs. Calvert, we have privately decided what men and women can do, and if anyone tries to step out of their compartment and suggest otherwise, we have names for them.

If a man selects to be more sensitive and open to the female perspective, we view him as “pre-gay.” In other words, maybe not a part of the club, but sympathetic to the rules.

If a woman chooses to compete and be more aggressive, she is deemed to be a bitch.

Let me explain the full range of the use of the word bitch:

It can be “any woman who disagrees with a man” all the way through “any woman who insists on having equal rights.”

You can always tell when you’re in the presence of stupidity.

It is a group of people who find a nasty word to describe a whole bunch of folks so they don’t have to deal with the real issues.

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Bison

Bison: (n) a humpbacked shaggy-haired wild ox

Dictionary BWhile driving through Wyoming, I saw a bison standing along the side of the freeway, not more than fifty yards away.

A buffalo.

It was such a strange sensation.

I had seen many pictures of the bison, but to suddenly be in such close proximity with its three-dimensional form translated me back to a time when America was young, settlers were traveling across the prairie in Conestoga wagons, and the Native Americans were struggling to maintain their integrity without becoming belligerent.

These bisons were everywhere. They were sustenance.

I had a sweeping awareness that came over my soul, realizing how hard it was to live when the bison roamed the Earth at will.

Nowadays, we have an interesting dilemma in America: we want to feed the horse, but no one wants to shovel the shit.

Matter of fact, sometimes we try to stop feeding the horse so there’s not as much shit. Or we let the shit fall where it may, insisting it’s just reality.

But on this Memorial Day, what really impresses me about those who have gone before us and have given their lives to a cause is that they completely comprehended that feeding the horse does produce shit that needs to be shoveled.

In other words, for every bison you kill, there’s one less bison.

And for every human being you hurt, there’s one new enemy.

Likewise, for every war you start, there’s a few less sons and daughters who will grow up and live full lives.

And finally, for every prejudice you express, there’s an anger that will come back your way from those who have been oppressed.

Sometimes it’s just good to drive along the freeway, see a bison and appreciate the beauty of life–because the truth of the matter is, all matter demands truth.

And truth comes with a balance of feeding the horse and shoveling the shit

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Bishop

Bishop: (n) a senior member of the Christian clergy

Dictionary B Fathering six sons, I was always torn, trying to discover what profile was best for their well-being.

After all, being a parent is not strutting your stuff in front of fellow-parents, but instead, doing as little as possible to gain as much as possible, while allowing your children the freedom to experiment without killing themselves.

As awkward as the previous sentence may seem, the process has an even greater clumsiness.

Three words:

  • Guide
  • Lead
  • Control

In many ways, the same thing is true in discovering the purpose of leadership in a church–taking the title of Bishop and finding the correct balance for “bishoping.”

After all, guiding is setting a course for your own life and allowing the sweet aura of joy and peace that surrounds your efforts to draw others in the direction of your belief and pursuit.

Leading is when you motion to them to follow your aspirations and adhere to your principles.

Controlling is when you remove part of their freewill because you fear that their choices will lead them astray.

If the wrong decision is made, you can translate what was meant to be holy into something that is wholly unacceptable.

We guide by doing more than by talking.

We lead by talking without demanding.

And we control by demanding and enforcing.

Sooner or later, the bishops of the church will have to trust the congregation to pursue the path of goodness by choice instead of intimidation.

It will be a frightening process, speckled with error from misguided trial, but still will end up producing the true fruit of the spirit instead of forced compliance to the rigid law.

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Bisexual

Bisexual: (n) possessing attributes of both male and female within oneself

Sitting in a coffeehouse when I was only sixteen years old, a long-haired young college student with a cerebral profile and an air of Dictionary Bself-importance asked me, “Are you bisexual?”

Innocently, from my Midwestern naiveté, I replied, “No. I would never pay for a woman.”

Surviving that gentleman’s laughter and growing up in a society where such terms became more prevalently spoken, I now know that “bisexual” refers to a willingness, openness, or even yearning to have sexual relationships with people of both genders.

The opinion on this possibility has changed, even in the gay community.

In the past, those who had a predilection toward sharing romantic interests with the same sex were often annoyed with the concept of bisexuality. And I suppose the case could be made that if you are born heterosexual, or born homosexual, where is the evidence that you could be born bisexual?

But setting aside the nonsense of conflict, let us go back to the purity of the definition: “possessing attributes of both male and female within oneself.”

I personally think that’s a positive.

Even men who insist their masculinity is incapable of being penetrated by any feminine aspect whatsoever will eventually sprout some sort of fear of an “icky-poo” or a threatening spider.

And women, who would appear to be the fairy dust of heaven and the dew on the morning rose, will fart at will, and pull off the most amazing physical feats.

Maybe in the sense of human sexuality there is a great depth of mutuality which we’re all just afraid to consider–because it might make us appear to be too weak or too strong.

I don’t know.

But I will advance the theory that when either men or women are sexually aroused, what has aroused them is not nearly as important as culminating the action.

So what can we learn?

If by bisexual you are referring only to physically desiring carnal pleasure with other people of either gender–well, I will leave that to your imagination.

But if by bisexual you might be inkling to the notion that men and women have more in common than difference, then I would say you have just made a sharp right turn … back to Eden.

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Biscuit

Biscuit: (n) a small, typically round cake of bread leavened with yeast

There is a certain comfort in self-deception.Dictionary B

Even though lying to oneself seems to be an egregious error, at certain moments in the journey, it can be as comforting as a swallow of chipped ice on a hot day.

For years and years, I insisted that I did not like biscuits. Matter of fact, I was even guilty of planting the notion that bread was distasteful to my “buds.”

But anyone who followed me around or who was acquainted with my eating habits, would find that I was either the biggest, fattest liar who ever lived, or the weakest, dumbest avoider of temptation.

Especially if someone brought biscuits to the table accompanied by sausage gravy, I would “break down” and have one–which soon was edited, in my mind, to be “one plateful.”

Biscuits are good when they’re hot, very similar to coffee…and women.

When they sit too long, they congeal or get hardened (once again, paralleling the afore-mentioned).

  • I know they are high in calories.
  • I know they’re filled with carbs.

But when they arrive at the table hot, it is very difficult to resist them (once again, quite apropos to coffee and women).

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