Tag Archives: New York City

Acetabulum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acetabulum: (n.)  the socket of the hipbone, into which the head of the femur fits. SPECIAL USAGE: any cup-shaped structure, espcially a sucker.

Skeletons freak me out.

I think I talked about this a few days ago–the idea that we have an “inside” to our “outside” often leaves me beside myself.

Especially when you realize how we’re constructed both in a practical–but also in a weird way. This is never so true as when you look at that socket for the hip–the way it kind of rolls around in there, appearing to have absolutely no practical way to function.

So when I get in a room with a person advocating the theory of evolution over anything else, and an individual who insists on a literal interpretation of the Genesis creation story, I am baffled at how both of them fail to recognize how “fearfully and wonderfully” the human being is made.

I don’t care if there were billions of years of evolution–there is NO way that a single cell could EVER become a hip bone.

I‘m sorry. It’s impossible.

Somewhere along the line, there were LEAPS. What caused those leaps? I know that scientists have their own rendition of the mutations and interventions of nature, which may have instigated such spannings of the chasm. But honestly, when I look at an acetabulum and how it functions–how it rolls and how it’s supposed to last for a LONG time–I am massively in awe.

I guess I am one of those freaks who just believes that it’s ALL true. My concept of God is that He is kind of like a tourist visiting New York City for the first time. He literally wears Himself out, running from one site to another, enjoying every single moment of the vacation, refusing to miss any possible hallmark of the experience.

I think God likes to do it all. I think God tinkered with the amoeba and I think God messed with people. I think He enjoys perfecting things instead of pursuing the perfect.

So when I look at that hip-joint (which I don’t like to do for very long, by the way) I am convinced that there is more that went into that particular invention than we could ever imagine on this earthly plane. In other words, it took the best of evolution, it took the best of intelligent design, it took the best of mutation and it took the best of creation.

The mistake that most people make with God is that they feel empowered by discovering who He is or who He isn’t, and then they box Him up.

There IS no box for God. The minute we tell Him that He can’t do something, He’s already done it. And the minute we’re convinced that He does not exist in any way, shape or form, He goes ahead and finds a form … to shape our way.

Accuracy

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accuracy: (n.) the quality or state of being correct or precise.

There they go again! The dictionary makes the assumption that “correct” and “precise” are the same. They aren’t. Because in defending the accuracy of my statements, I can often prove that something is correct and yet completely avoid precision. In other words, once I cross the fifty percent point on correct, I can prove it’s true, even though 49% of what I represent is not true–and therefore not exactly honest.

This happens so much that we have a series of phrases for it:

  • little white lies
  • promo talk
  • political speech
  • disinformation
  • embellishment
  • padding your resume

It has become so much a part of our society that the word “accuracy” tends to bring a smile of cynicism to the universal lips of every American hearer. After all, nowadays everyone brings their own statistics to prove their point, to convince you of their accuracy, when the other side of the coin flips over with contradictory numbers, which are supposed to be equally valid.

It has given me pause.

There are many things in my life which I’ve lied about, which at the time of speaking, I would have insisted were accurate, but not precise. In other words, there was a story behind each and every proclamation to give credence to the idea–if you understood my reasoning in the first place.

We hate accuracy because deep in our hearts, we are all ashamed of where we are. When we were younger, we had great aspirations and set out on a journey to achieve them, only to run out of funds in Buffalo on our way to New York City. So we sit in Buffalo and try to pretend that we’re still heading for New York  City–or that we’ve already been there–or that Buffalo has become our New York City.

You know what the problem with such inaccuracy is? A deceiver is the most deceived person in the room. Why? Because he or she knows the real truth. The rest of the people present are only guessing.

Yes, the worst victim of lying is the liar. He or she knows that the truth was available when the audience listening is stuck with the story presented.

I don’t know if I’m completely cured of promo talk, embellishment, disinformation and the like. I’m sure in a pinch I will squirm and come up with some sort of representation of my truth which is more pleasing to the ears of those who surround me. But as I’ve tried to become a more accurate person–precise on the details–I have discovered that most folks don’t really care one way or another, but they would certainly like to trust my portion of the truth for which I am responsible.

Remember–the boy who cried wolf ended up getting eaten by his previous lies. Why? Because nobody came. If you lie enough, people expect you to lie, so even when you come up with something important, which comes from a place of quality, no one is listening.

So here’s to accuracy, which is the pursuit of “precise” minus the ambiguity of “correct”–because being politically correct is only good if you’re looking for votes. If you’re looking for friends or the favor of God, you have to go one step further.