My Blister Soul

My Brain + Your Body = FUN!

2006-08-25T17:24:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the most bizarre and heartrending story recounted by Oliver Sacks in this group of readings on neurological deficencies was that of the Disembodied Lady. In light of this tale, the notion that a person is a brain rather than the owner of one seems feasible. Though I would argue that a brain would not likely feel equally at home in a body that is not its own. The brain does not develop separately from the body it inhabits; and the body, in some respects, is a reflection of the brain, insofar as the brain is the source of self and personality. The reverse, I think, is also true – i.e., the body also exerts an influence on the brain. For instance, suppose John is a rather plain-looking, inactive fellow who is not especially mindful of what others think of his dress or appearance. He showers twice a week and, as a consequence, emits a rather foul odor. He doesn’t take care of his body. He eats poorly and doesn’t exercise. As a result of these qualities, that are at least partially attributable to his personality/disposition (i.e., his unique brain), John has been marginalized by many. He has never had any lasting friends and women are turned off by him. Thus, John has little self-esteem and a lowly self-concept. He considers himself a loner, a life-long bachelor who will likely spend the rest of his days watching old episodes of Magnum P.I. on his living room sofa with his only companion, Luscious (a portly, and mostly blind bloodhound). In this example, John’s self-image is heavily influenced by his body and people’s reactions to it. On the flip-side of the same token is the impact John’s brain (as represented by his personality) has on his body. Different aspects of John’s personality (e.g., his lethargic nature) influences how he cares for and dresses his body. Thus, though it may be right to say that much of what it means for John to be John has its genesis in his brain, I don’t think it is appropriate to say that John’s body could be exchanged for another body and it still be John in the same sense. Brains and bodies develop together; they are a unit – each reflecting different aspects of the other. To say that I would be equally me in whatever body my brain were placed in, I think, is a mistake. Being Collin Barnes is inextricably connected to my body, and vice versa. There’s more to being me than a brain: it is my brain connected to the body it was born with.

Lonesome wind blowing fearsome hot in a field of dust and locusts

2006-07-17T17:38:00.000-07:00

In the circles I run in, people say that the longer one lives the Christian life the more he or she sees his or her own sinfulness, and consequent dependence on God's grace.

Is it possible to worship Christ-likeness? To idolize sanctification? To want it more than a real relationship with the one, true, personal God?

I'm an idealist - which inevitably makes me a critic.

Marriage scares me.

Losing the intimate connection I felt I once had with Christ scares me more.

Thank God for Bill Mallonee...

Weak One Now

it's not your promises that i don't respect
they're cold comfort when i'm wrecked
reaching blindly out for you
heard it said least a thousand times before
just keep knocking at your door
of opportunity

(but) i'm the weak one now
and i don't need your sacred cows
and it's hard to drink the dreams
mingled ashes and the might have beens
kill the spirit sell the flesh
we amuse ourselves to death
holy words on baited breath
lose their meaning in the 20th century

gold has lost it's luster
and the silver becomes dull
once i used to run with joy
now i can barely crawl
like to help you brother
i've washed my hands and dried
the steely blade of science
never hypnotized me once

2006-06-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

That's right, folks. I've decided to POST! A cheerful post!

Today is my birthday. I am 26 years old today.

Meghan brought me a cake with 26 candles on top of it this morning. Unfotunately, it wasn't a carrot cake, but she said she looked for one and couldn't find one (she also couldn't bake one because her oven is not lit), so she went with what she thought was the next best: red velvet. I opened the front door with a toothbrush in my mouth, and there she was with wild hair and red T-shirt and a flaming cake. She'd lit the candles in the car. She made me blow out the candles and took pictures. Silly, Meghan.

OK, OK, so this is really Meghan writing under the guise of myblistersoul, because she thinks myblistersoul has taken way too long to blog. Blog again, already, C-Biddy. Blog away!

... the returns are so small

2006-04-08T15:43:00.000-07:00

There are 5 or 6 books on my bookshelf about the Christian life that have done nothing but gather dust for the past 6 to 8 months. Some longer.

One is entitled "Longing to Know".

I haven't longed to know in some time.

The subtitle of another is "Straight Talk About the Power and Defeat of Sin."

I seem to be content in my sin. The rhino's horn is piercing the flesh of my chest and I'm not fighting.

All around my desk are small peices of paper with scripture verses printed on them... Bill Mallonee lyrics and the words from wholesome old hymns.

My heart isn't warmed though ... the sight of these words no longer bring a sense of awe and wonder to my soul. Instead they remind me how cold I am on the inside.

Where is my passion?

Where is my love for the One who gave His blood for a poor, helpless sinner like me?

I want to be a better man than I am.

God help me.

my engagement came on the heels of a confession

2006-03-29T07:28:00.000-08:00

For several months now I've been asking God to show me what idols I have in my life.

Last night I had a beer with a dear friend of mine.

I said, "God's been breaking me of my ideals."

He replied, "No, He's been breaking you of your idols... There's a difference."

All this time I've wondered what hidden idols I've had lurking in the dark corners of my heart. Somehow I thought it would be my love of coffee creamer. It wasn't.

There are no white picket fences. No golf-green lawns. There are no June Clevers in the world. And if there are, they're lying... and dying inside.

Praise God and MUCH rejoicing.

a man needs to be told

2006-03-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

we survived our first road trip together.
you know what that means...

Sunday morning

2006-02-19T05:55:00.000-08:00

It's 7:55 am...

I am heading to Wal-Mart in just a moment... I need to pick up a few groceries.

But most importantly, I need to find a dow rod... why? Because her kitchen window doesn't have a lock on it... and I really want her to feel safe at home. Then I will to try to find several cans of Campbell's Chunky Chicken Tortilla soup... why? Because it's her new favorite... and because she doesn't get paid until Tuesday and she needs something good to eat. Afterward I'll drop by Albertsons and pick up a grande latte for her (made with 2 % milk)... I'll probably order it extra hot - it's really cold outside... I'll also need to grab a few packages of Splenda. . . why? Because that's the way she likes her coffee... at least some of the time. Then I'll swing by her digs and go to her front door... walk her down to my car... open the passanger door for her, and then we'll drive to church together where we will worship God and enjoy the fellowship of His people. It promises to be a very, VERY good Sunday. Praise the LORD and much rejoicing.

these are a few of my favorite things

2006-02-10T14:02:00.000-08:00

Jesus
family
friends
music
beer
coffee
carrot cake
Christmas
dark Karo syrup
running
laughing
sorghum on hot biscuits with butter

2006-01-29T18:12:00.000-08:00

word...

2006-01-22T17:18:00.000-08:00

Ya' know what my dear friend Della told me to do today?

"C-bitty," she said, "chill the f$*# out."

I love the Body of Christ.

Dying a little more... every step of the way

2006-01-21T07:53:00.000-08:00

Jesus was serious about that whole dying to self thing.

I died a little last night. It hurt more than I know how to say.

I fell on the floor in my apartment and wept bitterly for a while... quietly uttering between sobs, "O' God... O' God... why? I don't understand".

It was like having open-heart surgery without anesthetic. I was under His knife... and His knife cut deep.

Take up your cross... follow Me.

Crosses are for dying.

He never said it would be easy.

Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.

quiet

2006-01-20T02:34:00.000-08:00

It's 4:30 in the morning... I can't sleep. Damn this busy mind of mine.

I felt the anxiety in the back of my throat for the better part of an hour last night. It laid hold of me and wouldn't let go... I tried turning it off. Tried praying. Not much changed. One minute I was sad, the next I was angry. So I contemplated getting drunk.

But then a very dear friend embraced me... he loved me in my time of need.... his touch stilled my soul and quieted my mind.

After I got home, the burden came back. So I sat in my car and cried some.

I thank God for His People... and for His grace.

I would rather bathe in my own vomit than listen to this shit: a top 10 list by Collin Barnes

2006-01-16T10:12:00.001-08:00

I hope this doesn't hurt anybody's feelings too much...

1. Chantilly Lace - The Big Bopper

2. Downtown – Petula Clark

3. Hamburger in Paradise – Jimmy Buffett

4. The Reason - Hoobastank

5 . Who Let the Dogs Out? – The Baha Boys

6. Anything by Nickelback

7. Bring Me to Life – Evanescence

8. One Step Closer – Linkin Park

9. (Everything I do) I do it for You - Bryan Adams

10. Cherish the Love – Cool and the Gang

The Maker Makes

2006-01-01T20:08:00.000-08:00

Rufus wrote this song about a gay person who discovers Jesus and decides to forsake his sexual life which, according to Rufus, at times seems like an option when dealing with men. God works in strange and marvelous ways... I woud've cried some when I heard the song if I weren't on Prozac. It's so beautiful.

The Maker Makes
by Rufus Wainwright

One more chain I break
to get me closer to you
One more chain does the maker make
to keep me from bustin' through

One more notch I scratch
to keep me thinkin' of you
One more notch does the maker make
upon my face so blue

Get along little doggies, get along little doggies

One more smile I fake,
'n try my best to be glad
One more smile does the maker make,
because he knows I'm sad

Oh Lord, how I know,
Oh Lord, how I see,
that only can the maker make a happy man of me

Get along little doggies, get along little doggies, get along

2005-12-29T22:16:00.000-08:00

i don't get no g.i. joe for Christmas no more

2005-12-29T22:14:00.000-08:00

mason, mom, and c-money

2005-12-29T22:12:00.000-08:00

my brother Mason

All these people drinking lovers' spit...

2005-12-19T16:11:00.000-08:00

I use to think I was suppose to become somebody... somebody special. I haven't told many people this, but at one time I thought I was going to play a key role in the apocalypse... some kind of martyr... like one of the guys in Stephen King's The Stand who got strung up on a neon cross on the Las Vegas strip. Somewhere along the way I gave up on being an exemplary Christian. I stopped dreaming. Nowadays I just want redemption. I will be eternally grateful to God if when I reach my deathbed I am still availing myself of the cross of Christ. For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen.

I saw a film by a guy named Rob Bell this weekend... It was entitled "Sunday". He's the pastor of a church in Michigan or Minnesota... I don't know. Whereever it is, the place starts with an "M". Rob is part of the emergent church movement. I don't much care for "movements"... especially popular ones.

The video scared me.

I really don't understand everything that Rob is trying to do... or everything that the emergent church is trying to accomplish, but my gut (which can't always be trusted) says something's amiss.

Why was I scared? Two reasons I guess... At the end of the 12-minute short, I felt like Rob was saying (though not directly) "Come on... We can do it... You and I can really love God like we're suppose to!" If I asked Rob, I'm sure he would agree that we can't do anything, including love God, on our own... but this wasn't the least bit clear to me in what he said. It also troubled me that Rob never said anything during his film about sin... not a word. I always have a hard time listening to sermons about sin. They hurt. But it's a good hurt.

Rob's church is apparenlty growing faster than any church in American history. Seems to me that this could be for one of two reasons... Either one, Rob is really doing something right or, two his approach to Christianity is so thoroughly post-modern that it is palatable to our post-modern culture.

Is the Gospel suppose to be palatable? Maybe sheer numbers and rate of growth aren't the measure of a successful church. Then again, growth (or the lack thereof) says something... I'm just not sure that it tells us as much as we suppose it does.

My interpretation of scripture, the church and college ministry I choose to affiliate with, the kinds of prayers I pray... all of these things are colored by my personality, my past experiences, my life story. I can't escape these things. Every time I open my Bible, I bring myself along for the ride... it's inevitable. If your interpretation of scripture is equally as valid as mine and mine is just as tenable as yours, then we really have no grounds for discussing our faith do we? How do we believe in capital "T" Truth if we're all painting our own picture of what Christianity is suppose to look like? At what point do we submit to scripture and to the cherished doctrines and creeds of the faith, letting them define Christianity for us rather than redefine it for ourselves? You may say, "Well those creeds were authored by humans... they're subject to err, are they not?" Yes, I suppose they are... but some of these doctrines have stood for a dozen or more centuries. That says something doesn't it? Our forefathers believed these things... I'm not ready or willing to walk away from that and start my own movement. I don't trust myself that much. Why? Because I'm thoroughly fallen... and broken. I need all the help I can get.

I've heard it said by emergent church-goers that we should "ask big questions of a big God." I ask a lot of questions. I desperately desire answers... I have a hard time with ambiguity. I've posed countless questions to our Heavenly Father... but at some point we have to stop asking questions... or else our questions will become our god. C. E. M. Joad once said, "So much I can understand; so much, indeed, I accept." I like that quote.

Job asked a lot of questions. God was patient with him, but there came a point when God challenged Job... He asked Job where he was when He created the world. If I remember right, Job proceeded to cover his mouth and hide his face when God put His foot down. I think we could all learn something from Job.

It's good to ask questions... but there's also a time to stop questoining and believe.

Whatever problems the emergent church thinks it's solving by starting a new movement, I think there's one big problem they're forgetting about... themselves. The emergent church may thrive for a time... but eventually they will deal with the same hardships and complications every body of believers faces. We're all sinners... I know that my emergent brothers and sisters wouldn't deny this... but let's try to remember that wherever we go, there we are... We take our sin with us.

2005-11-30T16:14:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving was really good. I got to see my big brother, which was nice. He's soon to turn 28. He's married with two kids. It's a rare occassion for my dad, mom, me, and my big bro to be alone together, but last Friday night we were for the first time in probably 3 or 4 years. It was great... we all just sat and talked for a while. My brohter talked the most which was good. I did a lot of listening. He and I also had the opportunity to talk about matters of faith. He's not a believer...yet. He's kinda' come to the conclusion that faith isn't all it's cracked up to be... he's not sure that he buys it. The problem is that my brother knows all to well that he's a really messed up guy (he knows this about the rest of humanity too) but he doesn't have any Christians in his life who acknowledge this about themselves. There's a big difference between giving lip service to the idea of personal sin and then actually wading knee deep in your own shit. My big brother is well aware of his sin... He knows he's got problems, but at the church he occassionally goes to there ain't too many folks who are willing to acknowledge their humanness. I want my brother to understand that it's possible to be a Christian AND a human! My brother knows he has a need... that's why he isn't satisfied with the conclusions that he's come to... that's why he began to tear up when I talked to him about my sin, his sin, and Christ's perfection. He's not there yet... It'll take some more time I think, but he's on his way. He's asking questions. This is good. My prayer is that God would bring friends into his life who earnestly, in the depths of their heart, love Christ and desire to know Him, but who are also ABSOLUTE #$%*-ups... I mean complete boobs! We are all screwed up people... My dear brother just needs some close freinds who will acknowledge this about themselves and point him to Christ. I want this for my brother... I really do. A dear friend of mine use to wear a t-shirt that said "Christ is for losers." I really liked that shirt.

Driving Miss Daisy

2005-10-29T11:33:00.000-07:00

A dear friend of mine took a cross-country road trip this summer with his former girlfriend. They spent 17 plus days on the highway together and loved every minute of it. I think he should get back with her… No, I think they should get married. I once asked him, “How many gals can you travel cross-country with and still like ‘em when it’s over?”

I’ve had three meaningful dating relationships. One lasted approximately 7 months, the other close to two, and the most recent, a little over a week. Each of these relationships dissolved during or within 48 hours of a road trip.

My first, 7 month relationship: We were on our way back to school from visiting her parents. It was about a 4 hour drive altogether. Fifteen to 20 minutes into the trip we began having “the talk”. It was painful and hard. I had to pull over a couple of times. I cried… more than her I think. It was a long ride back.

The 7 week relationship: We were preparing to make a trip from Austin to Norman (a little over 6 hours) when I started expressing some doubts about our relationship. I felt like a complete jerk. The drive was painful and hard. I had to pull over a couple of times. I cried… as much as she did I think. It was a long ride back.

After spending nearly three months getting to know a girl, I decided (after praying much and receiving counsel from friends) that I would seal the deal by making the relationship official. I did this a week before we set out on an 18 hour road trip to Florida. Within 48 hours of arriving at the beach, the relationship was writhing in the dust, fighting for air, dying a slow, miserable death. She drove back home to spend the summer with her parents. I didn’t hear from her for almost a month. Yes, I tried to call… any number of times.

Road trips, I’m terrified of them. For me, road trips are the breaking point for relationships. Interestingly, each of these people I dated had something to say about my driving... mostly how they didn’t like it. Am I fit to cart Miss Daisy around? No, probably not. My music is too loud, and sometimes I stop abruptly. But I don't think that I'm an awful driver… not the best, but certainly not the worst. My best friend has ridden with me on a few long trips before. He never complains about my driving. We haven’t ever “broken up” after reaching our destination. He has never said to me, “Collin, I’m sorry... I can’t be your best friend anymore… you drive with your head up your ass... and that makes me uncomfortable.” Mind you, I am not saying that the aforementioned relationships dissolved because of my driving, but for me there appears to be a mysterious correlation between, long road trips, complaints about driving ability, and relationship longevity. Why is that?

One day I hope I can find a woman who will not particularly mind my driving… someone who will take a road trip with me and have a wonderful time. If I find this girl, I’ll marry her... I think.

2005-10-18T20:01:00.000-07:00

Love Civic Center - Paris, TX

The message originally read "Welcome Senior Assets". Ya' see the scaffolding around the sign? Yeah, my best friend and I climbed up and removed the "t". I'm sure you're thinking "Hey, good high school prank!"... This was a year and a half ago. I was 23. It was my first year in grad. school.

who knows who's at the door

2005-09-30T21:04:00.000-07:00

I am a derivative of my inner-chemistry; a creature of my circumstances; a violent borrage of countless personas that come and go with each passing hour... or minute, depending on the day of the week. There are monsters and saints behind these eyes; a jovial, gregarious, congenial spirit and a bitter, foul, viscious fiend - precisely who will step forward to say hello is hardly a matter of precision... your guess is as good as mine.

"Jesus is my only friend. No one else knows who I am."

... Not even me

Thank you Joseph Arthur