Micah Tillman and I were having a conversation about a new economy the other day- one that's been brought to life by Google's Ranking Algorithm.
It all began when I attempted to put a link to his website on my sidebar, but ended up linking to my good friend Seth instead. It was a little embarrassing, but seemed easily corrected. All I needed to do was update the link, publish the site, and everything was back to normal…
Except that it wasn't...
 You seen, my site is ranked by Google as a definitive site for 'Nathan Key' (which is good, because I like being the definitive source of info about myself).
Now, I don’t think too many people are looking for me, but since I have fairly regular traffic here, Google respects me enough that their little webcrawlers use my site as a legitimate source of information. Therefore, when they saw me link to Seth’s site (and call it Micah Tillman's) they assumed that I knew was I was talking about. So now when you search of Micah- Seth’s site comes up toward the bottom of the first page as a potential option…
Yikes. That’s not right.
While Micah was pretty cool about it, my mistake sparked a short conversation about traffic economies which, of course, got me thinking about ethics.
What I mean by ethics is this: Since part of Google’s algorithm includes visits and links in & out of a site, it follows that any site with a lot of traffic also has the ability to influence Google’s ranking system. They have the ability to tell the world where searchers should go to receive definitive information about a certain topic.
And since information is power and “with great power comes great responsibility,” it seems to me that we need to be awfully careful what we’re linking to and how we’re linking to it.
What follows are not my “favorite” albums. Each one of these albums represent a different, and equally important, era of my life thus far. I wanna thank Chris and that silly 15 albums Facebook meme for getting me interested in this.
1. Music Machine I & II by Candle and Agape Force
These (two) albums represent childhood for me. I can remember road trip after road trip with these tunes playing in the background. No, they’re not really well known, but they were well loved by me when I was young.
2. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme by Simon & Garfunkel
Most of my friends were raised on the Beatles. Outside of classical music and the Gaithers, I was raised on folk music and this was the record that I put in the most. Love me some “Cloudy.”
3. Comin' on Strong by Carmen
Yes, it’s true. I had a Carmen tape. And I listened to it OVER AND OVER again. I was young and evangelical. I have no remorse.
4. Go West Young Man by Michael W Smith
I think this was the first tape I bought with my own money. Needless to say, I liked it quite a bit. “My Face in This World!”
5. Ten by Pearl Jam
I’m so glad for this CD. Others were brought into the new music revolution by Nirvana’s “Nevermind” but the first time I heard something I identified with was when the opening chords of Once played. I may have been a hormone raging kid before this moment, but I became a teenager when I heard Eddie Vedder singing.
6. Let's Go by Rancid
I heard Let’s Go for the first time when I got to Orlando and started High School. Punk wasn’t on the radio, yet, so I felt like I had a subculture all to myself. I loved that CD for my entire High School Career.
7. Dark Side Of The Moon by Pink Floyd
I was finally introduced to Pink Floyd in my freshmen year of college. A friend from down the hall loaned me her CD and I listened to it almost every night as I wrote papers or studied. I actually like The Final Cut a lot better, but this says “college” to me.
8. Blue by Third Eye Blind
I picked up Blue from the record store in 1999 and decided that it was what I wanted my band to sound like. There hasn’t been more than a month or two since then that this record hasn’t been on in the background. Every song is perfection.
9. Bleed American by Jimmy Eat World
I loved this CD and modeled my band after it, basically because I wasn’t talented enough to replicate 3EB’s Blue. ‘Nuff Said.
10. Sonicpraise by Sonic Flood
Ironically, it was my atheist friend who reintroduced me to Christian music when she gave me this CD (she obviously didn't want it). After years of thwarting anything "Christian Music" related, I ended up going to a college ministry and getting involved in a discipleship group because of this album. I say that honestly, because after listening to it one night I decided to head over to church instead of going to a NOFX concert. I truly believe that decision changed my life.
11. Our Love Is Loud by Passion artists Chris Tomlin, Charlie Hall, & David Crowder
Sonic Praise opened up the door for me to actually listen to worship music, but Passion artists are the only thing that kept me from going crazy when my band broke up. I used to hang out with the kids at S. Orlando Baptist Church on Sunday and Wednesday evenings and we’d sing these songs at the top of our lungs.
12. Facedown by Matt Redman
I listened to these songs for the year that Beth and I were dating. I remember singing them together and playing them for her when we were falling in love. This is probably either my all time favorite album or at least in the top five.
13. Self Titled by Mute Math
I heard this CD playing and I knew that music was good again. It was different. It was fresh. And it also represents the first year of marriage because I’d listen to it on the way to the gym with my wife.
14. Viva La Vida by Coldplay
Got this album in Seattle and it still reminds me of the year and a half we spent there. Other bands like Jeniferever "sound" more like Seattle- but I spent more time listening to this album than the others and it reminds me of driving downtown on the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
15. Self Titled by Vampire Weekend
Almost every morning, my son and I have a little dance party with this album. I’m so glad that I am making memories of our morning play. This is fun music that you can dance to and sing to. Love it!
Today, when I was checking out my analytics stats I noticed this...
Why do people want to destroy me?
"Could America exist without an income tax? The idea seems radical, yet in truth America did just fine without a federal income tax for the first 126 years of its history. Prior to 1913, the government operated with revenues raised through tariffs, excise taxes, and property taxes, without ever touching a worker's paycheck...."
-Ron Paul * * *
Each and every year on April 15th, everyone I know becomes a libertarian for the day. All the government programs and federally funded programs don’t mean jack when it comes time to cut a check and pay for it out of their own salaries.
All year long, my friends on the left rail on and on about the wonders of government programs and how incredibly horrific our country would be without them- but they don’t want to pay for them anymore than the next guy. If they did, they’d be putting a little extra money into the coffers of the IRS rather than looking for the loopholes.
Here’s my challenge to my Democrat, Socialist, and Lefty friends out there:
If you truly believe that the government is the best entity to provide for the needs of this country, go ahead and pay extra taxes this year.
But if you don’t- if you’re looking for ways to minimize your own tax obligation, please join me in reconsidering the role of government. Because from where I stand, if you can’t give them more than they ask of you, then it's pretty clear that you don’t really believe, in the depths of your heart, that government is the answer to the world’s problems.
Who Owns Property? This is a fundamental questions that must be answered before we can determining what the role of government is and how it will interact with the people it governs.
Is this shovel mine? Is it ours? Is it the government's?
Is this land mine? Is it ours? Is it the government's?
Is this education mine? Is it ours? Is it the government's?
Is this life mine? Is it ours? Is it the government's?
This Shovel is Mine:
If you find yourself saying that these things belong to an individual you're probably into individualism and you may even be leaning libertarian or toward classical republicanism. These folks believe that only the person who owns said property is entitled to said property.
Lately, I've heard a few of my colleagues bemoan the rights of the individual, passing blanket statements that make individualism come off as just plain greed in disguise. Just to be clear, while it’s tempting to depict those who believe in individual ownership as inherently greedy, this is a misnomer. For greed comes when one cannot be satisfied with what he already has. It means that he want more and more and no matter how much enters into his possession, he will never be able to say “That’s enough.”
An individual who is content with what he has IS NOT greedy. An individual who does everything in his power to amass more and more without ever finding satisfaction in his property IS greedy.
This Shovel is Ours:
But perhaps you find yourself siding with the second group of ownership descriptors. You might believe that everything on this earth belongs to everyone. This is generally how collectivist groups and socialists think. Modern Democrats may not view resources and property exactly this way, but it's pretty close. The idea of public land, public art, public funds, and the like are all within the realm of "ours."
For these folks, the idea of redistributing wealth is ideal because, after all, it belongs to everyone whether it's redistributed or not.
This Shovel is the Government's:
Lastly are those who believe that governments, organizations, monarchs, overseers, or other meta-entities are the ones who own everything. Those who agree with this mindset tend to be Fascists, or Corporate Fascists. Some of them even find landing points in some of the doctrine of the Neo-Conservative and Neo-Liberal movements.
These folks truly believe that governments, establishments, and principalities are the best equipped to make decisions about what's right for the people they "serve."
After spending a number of months unemployed, I realize that our normal idea of what work/life is supposed to be like is a bit skewed. I think I like how I spent my time better when I wasn't "officially" working.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m very glad to be back at work, earning money rather than living off of unemployment insurance. But I have to say that those four months where I didn’t have anything in particular to do were some of the best times I’ve ever spent with Beth and Ethan and I’m going to do my best to figure out a way to reclaim that lifestyle at some point in the future.
You see, unemployment offered me the opportunity to really connect with my family and I simply cannot go back to the way it was because I miss spending my day integrated with theirs.
During the last four months, I wasn’t spending 10 hours away from my family and I got to go on daily adventures- one in the afternoon (maybe to the park or the store) and one right after dinner (to the library or somewhere else where we could take a walk or just hang out together). And on top of that, I was able to provide my wife with some much-needed time away from us. Time where she could go exercise, shower, and get ready for the day without having a little person constantly grabbing at her legs and crying that he wasn’t in her arms.
Of course, I wasn’t ONLY spending time with them. I spent about 4-6 hours a day writing, reading, and searching for jobs. I kept a pretty rigid routine (which was sometimes a bit frustrating to my wife who never realized how structured and organized I like to spend my time) and I was very disciplined.
I’m not sure when in history families were able to spend this much time together. But, I have a feeling that prior to the industrial revolution- when societies were much more agrarian- most men worked from or around home and were integrated into the lives of their families most of the day. They worked hard, of course- it wasn’t just hanging out with their kids. But they were able to spend a lot more face time with their wives and children because they weren’t commuting thirty miles each day to work, leaving their wives alone for the day to care for their children.
I don't know how to get back to the sort of integrated life I enjoyed unless I begin working virtually or begin my own business... hmm...
Were you there when they laid Him in the grave?
Were you there when they laid Him in the grave?
Oh, sometimes, if causes me to
Tremble... Tremble... Tremble...
Were you there when they laid Him in the grave?
-Spiritual
As John looked on, watching as the soldiers drove nails through the arms and legs of his Rabbi, I wonder if the words of his Master came to mind.
“This is My Body, broken…”
“This is My Blood, spilled out…”
This wasn’t how he expected those words to be fulfilled. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. And yet, here was the man on whom he’d pinned all his hopes, bloodied and bleeding and moments from death.
And then Jesus spoke; each word carefully and painfully uttered as if the effort was a labor that brought death a bit closer. “John… take care of my mother as if she were your own. Mother, take care of my beloved friend as if he were your own son.”
He arched his back in pain, struggling for another breath.
The sky darkened.
“Oh God, why have you abandoned me?” The words barely escaped his mangled lips.
And with that, He was gone.
A Roman Centurion standing close by looked on, awestruck.
“I think we made a mistake,” he said. “For that was surely the son of God.”
“Yes,” said John under his breath. “I believe he was.”
On that Thursday evening, Jesus invited His closest friends, young men who had traveled by His side for the past three years, to gather and experience the Last Meal He would receive before death.
As they entered, I’m sure each disciple must have been brimming over with excitement. It was Passover after all- the most important time of celebration and remembrance in the Jewish calendar- and in those days, as their backs broke under the boot of the Roman Empire, the twelve eager young men must have been ready; hoping and yearning for a miracle that would free them from oppression just as they had been freed from Egypt and Babylon and Syria.
Peter, no doubt was cracking Rome jokes, trying to get a rise out of Judas and Simon. Probably John was the first to notice Jesus’ somber mood. He watched as his Rabbi donned a towel and picked up basin full of washing water. I can imagine that the room became hushed as Jesus moved between His disciples, washing their feet, maybe even choking back some tears knowing that this was the very last lesson He would teach them before death.
“What are you doing Jesus.” asked Peter as Jesus approached him, “I should be washing your feet. I can’t let you humiliate yourself like this.”
“Peter,” He said, “Please let me do this. If you want to be a part of my life, I need to wash your feet. I need to do this and you need to learn.”
“OK, why don’t you wash all of me then?” said Peter.
Jesus looked him directly in the eyes. “Peter, I love you, but this is not the time for jest. But, I know why you’re making a joke out of this. This seems like menial labor to you and you think it’s beneath me. But, I tell you the truth- no job is menial if it serves another. And if you truly want to be great in my eyes you’ll follow my example and serve others- no matter how lowly or menial the role seems to be. Now, you don’t need me to clean your whole body, for it is not unclean. You do, however, need your feet cleaned, for they are dusty from the dirt on the streets. So please, allow me to make you clean.”
The young man had been hunted his entire life. At first, it was mere shepherds who had witnessed visions of angels late one night. They were an uneducated lot, common outcasts who did work that no one else wanted to. Scholars arrived soon afterward; men from the East who traveled long and hard to witness for themselves the signs they had foreseen in the heavens. They brought with them gifts and tokens of adoration that could very well have overshadowed the enthusiasm of the uneducated herdsmen had the child's parents been from a different stock.
Dark enemies soon gave chase. Armed with death, they searched for the child on an evil King’s behalf, slaughtering infants who still clung to their mothers' breasts. But the child’s father was a man of vision and his family escaped the sword as they fled to Egypt.
Years passed. And the child grew older.
When he turned twelve, his parents were the hunters. Searching through family and friends they turned Jerusalem upside-down looking for their boy. But he was hunting too, for answers, in the House of the Lord. He called it his Father’s house and his parents were astonished.
When he was thirty, his mother sought him out to fix the wine problem his friends were having at their wedding. And when he began hanging around with fishermen, tax collectors, and zealots- she went looking again and begged him to come home.
During the day, men of religious influence laid out tricks and traps to trip him up. But at night, some of them would seek him out in secret to learn more about his ideas, while others plotted to kill him in dark rooms lit by fine candles.
Soldiers overtook him one day to request a miracle on behalf of their commander. Later they overtook him in the garden with a warrant for his arrest.
Was it the same men?
Oh, how quickly we turn from wonder to violence.
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