Not a Good Christian

I'm not a good Christian. This is because I don't care whether other people are Christians or not. I don't care whether they understand scripture or not, as long as they keep their ignorance to themselves. What I do care about is people who make grandiose, arrogant statements about religion and Christianity without really knowing the first thing about either, other than, perhaps, what they've read in The God Delusion or seen in some trite, vacuous Facebook blurb. They sheepishly regurgitate the pedestrian conclusions of a mundane modern culture as if as if these were pearls of unassailable wisdom, when really they are only cliches.

Plato

Once upon a time, a man named Plato set forth a set of presumptions about mankind in general and the purpose of men individually within a society and in interaction with a plurality of societies. The book was called The Republic. It described in the most essential way how we function as people groups and why we function in just such a way. The glue that binds the scheme is composed of logic, native intuition, individual interest and the dependence of the individual on community. The pattern described by Plato remains in effect at the very core of our everyday existence, though it is continually assailed by rebellion, a perverse inclination toward all that is contrary, counter-intuitive and ultimately chaotic. We do not like the truth. It is too clean, too pure. It is a deep-seated hatred of self that casts a lunatic shadow over all, angered by the inescapable concept of order. The exception, therefore, is made the rule, such that we may become victims rather than members of the cooperative experience known as life.

Fishy

I am not wild about food that watches me while I eat it. Never have been. A fished fried with the head on, for instance, ogling the fork every time it descends. Or a bowl of fish soup containing the head as a special honor. This head does worse than just sit there and stare. It swims about the broth as you dip the spoon in. And then tonight there was the baked chicken that my wife brought home from Lombok. Wouldn't want to leave the head behind, no sir. There's something distinctly unsettling about a baked chicken that peeks at you from under the wing that you're eating. Hello there. Are you finding me tasty? Bon appetite!

Sin

What is sin? It's not what you think, or rather it is what you think, but it's not what you think that you think. Sin is hatred. Sin is bigotry. Sin is murder and the murderous thought. Sin is man's abuse of himself and of other men. Sin is on the tongue and proceeds from the depths of the heart. Sin is that universal human disease that defiles and destroys. It is what eats the corpse of the man before the corpse itself arrives. The living man is the food of sin. It is the lie that justifies the tower of lies and leaves its victims in shallow graves. Sin is not judgement, but that which has already been judged. It is ascribed not by men, but is upon the head of all. It is the absolute equality of error.

A Quote

"If we present man with a concept of man which is not true, we may well corrupt him. When we present him as an automation of reflexes, as a mind-machine, as a bundle of instincts, as a pawn of drives and reactions, as a mere product of instincts, heredity, and environment, we feed the despair to which man is, in any case, already prone. I became acquainted with the last stages of corruption in my second concentration camp in Auschwitz. The gas chambers of Auschwitz were the ultimate consequence of the theory that man is nothing but the product of heredity and environment—or, as the Nazis liked to say, of ‘Blood and Soil.’ I am absolutely convinced that the gas chambers of Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Maidanek were ultimately prepared not in some Ministry or other in Berlin, but rather at the desks and in the lecture halls of nihilistic scientists and philosophers."
—Viktor E. Frankl

Headaches

I sure wish they had Vicodin in Indonesia. I'm having these daily headaches that are practically crippling. But it's a no-go, because Vicodin is a narcotic and narcotics are illegal in Indonesia. Back in the old country I used to get 30 double-strength tablets a month. Ah, the good old days. Here they give you paracematol, which is perfectly worhtless. 

Tropical White House

 I suppose that every time I visit a new villa, I end up reckoning that it’s the best I’ve ever been to.

Of course, they can’t all be the best; but, in a particular way, they can be the best at what they are, in an individual rather than a comparative sense. I’m talking about what we might call personality or character – that certain something – or coalescence of somethings – that sets each villa apart from all others, and forms, in those it hosts, a numinous complex of experience and memory that survives long beyond one’s stay, to mix and blend its defining thread to the unfolding fabric of one’s life.

For this reason, I can say with the utmost assurance that you will never visit another villa quite like Rumah Putih, nor can you hope for a more rewarding and enjoyable experience.

The villa is located on the island of Nusa Lembongan, a quick 20-30 minute boat ride from the southern shore of Bali,depending on how fast your choice of fast-boats proves to be. Far from being a natural-born sailor, I prefer as fast as fast gets – although, given the brevity of the seaborne phase of the trip, one hardly has time to become woozy. Before you know it, you’re wading on shore, picking up your bags and heading down the path to your home for the next few days.

Rumah Putih is a cliffside dwelling, so that if you are, as I am, getting a bit on the ‘well-seasoned’ side, you’ll have to take the long stairway at a leisurely pace – but that’s okay. You’re not in any hurry anyway. You’re on vacation, right? And in any case, there will be a staff member there to carry your bags (and you, too, if need be).

But the destination is well worth the climb. And that’s the most perfect of understatements, folks. For, now, you will enter a spacious, airy open area set between two two luxurious dwellings, each having its own cosy, cushy pavilion just at the verge of the overlook to the spreading expanse of the sea, and between the dwellings and pavilions is a stunning blue infinity edge pool, poised upon the lip of the view as if you might swim to the edge and continue into the air itself.

The view from almost every point of the villa takes in the fullness of the horizon – the aquamarine bay and the white sand of the shoreline, tourist and pleasure boats of every colour and size plying the gentle waters, along with traditional jukung boats parked like taxis atop the bubbly surf. Shops and restaurants recline at the edge, interspersed among lush tropical greenery and flora, dotted, as the land rises, by a meandering caravan of festive rooftops, from traditional thatched grass to bright new tile.

Each villa room is fronted by floor to ceiling windows and has a comfy king-size bed with bedside tables. In the rear is a luxuriant bathtub, a counter with twin sinks and then an private outdoor shower with pleasant greenery. Naturally, the rooms are air-conditioned and each has, as well, a powerful ceiling fan.

The name, Rumah Putih, in the Indonesian language, means, simply, White House, and the simplicity fits well with the clean, crisp lines of the villa and its dominant white colour, offset by the rustic brown of the thatched pavilion roofs, the mild green hues of the living room sofas and, of course, the stark, fresh blue of the pool, which, at night, is lit from beneath like a soft velvet carpet – a flying one, if you like to imagine.

Above this area are two additional dwellings, also with a pool and other special touches – but one would hardly know they were there, but for the presence of a service staircase near the villa entryway. These upper villas have their own private entrance and interfere in no way with the units below.

At the rear of your villa grounds is a spacious seating area as well as a dining area with a table with six seatings. Two delightful staff members, Ketut and Ika, will cook breakfast, lunch and dinner – and the spicy, authentic Balinese dinner is not to be missed! They produce their culinary creations in a full kitchen, which includes a walk-in freezer – just in case you want to stay for a year or two (and you will!).

But there’s more to come, for beyond the dining and kitchen area, you will find a private theater with a large screen TV, Blue Ray, Apple TV and DVD options, along with three rows of lazy-boy chairs and appropriate moviegoer lighting.

People come to Lembongan for any number of reasons – to surf, to go snorkeling, or wind surfing, or just to explore the shops and the shoreline. We came to relax, and that we did, in high style! It is difficult to describe the sense of ease one feels, the fading of cares, even of time itself, as if the common old world had been sipped up and swallowed by the lazy sun and left you floating in a timeless paradise – just exactly as you had always imagined it might be. I feel confident in guaranteeing that your stay at Rumah Putih will be the purest delight. Most probably, it will also be too short!