Greetings, dear readers! It has been some time since last I put pen to paper to record the latest happenings at The Sacred Sandwich, the League of Tyndale, or the township of Gazingstock. Sadly, my inkwell is so dry from disuse that not even Lawrence of Arabia would cross it.
In past issues of the Sandwich, I have been quite the wordsmith, often producing an essay of considerable length on a single topic of profound theological importance. Yet lately I have found myself jotting down tidbits of random musings or tidings in the briefest of prose. This, no doubt, has been caused by my recent bout with Attention Deficit Disorder, which reminds me of a hilarious joke that, if I were to relay it to you, would cause you to convulse with such roaring, gut-wrenching laughter that no one within earshot of your infectious guffaws would be able to suppress their own violent cackles, which in turn would set off a chain reaction of catastrophic merriment around the world that would cause a global plague of projectile milk through humanity’s nostrils.
But I digress.
From whence did this literary ADD come? For that matter, from whence did all this ear hair suddenly come?
But I digress.
Again I ask, from whence did this literary ADD come? Perhaps it has been the subtle influence of “social media” that has shortened my attention span and created a newfound appreciation for the art of packing weighty ideas into succinct online statements.
What’s that you say? You can’t believe I used the words, “social media?” Oh yes, my friends, I know all about “social media.” Don’t let my Victorian sensibilities and meticulously-groomed muttonchops fool you. I have been known to make an occasional online visit to the Twitbook, Googtube and the Facer. (Take that, you nippy detractors of my pop-culture awareness!)
Truth be told, I have recently established an account on the Facer as a way of promoting The Sacred Sandwich and the League of Tyndale, and as of the morning of September 11th, I have received 285 “likes” in response to my efforts. These “likes” are very nice, I must say. Not being a demonstrative sort of chap, I was quite content with this moderate level of familiarity among my followers and would have found my countenance flushing beet-red had I received “loves” or “adores” or God forbid, “cares for deeply.” Yes, I found these “likes” to be (as a famous fairy-tale intruder once said) “juuust right.”
The problem is, I soon felt guilty for spending so much time on Facer and giving short shrift to the Sandwich. The whole idea was to use social networking sites like Facer and Wikipediasure to lead more readers to the Sandwich, and instead I found myself caught up with posting amusing status updates on Facer and waiting several hours in front of the computer to see if it would go organic, viral or both. It got so bad that Humphrey, our devoted mascot, was forced to go online and spam my account with pop-up ads for Axe Body Spray. I was so frazzled from trying to extradite myself from the clutches of unseen marketing forces that I was forced to shut off my computer and pour myself a tall glass of Welch’s grape juice, straight.
It was then that I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw my matted hair, wild-eyed stare and purple upper lip. It was just the wake-up call I needed. (Thank you, Humphrey.)
When a cooler head prevailed, I knew that I needed to be more balanced with the way I used the Internet to publish and promote the ideals of The Sacred Sandwich and the League of Tyndale. After much thought, I developed a plan in which I could keep the Sandwich’s Facer page, but only use it as a humble sidebar to this publication. I do this, of course, in the hope that I can make deeper inroads into the Internet community and entice a few more folks to travel through Gazingstock and maybe stop to stretch their legs or have a bite to eat.
So if you get a chance, please visit the Sandwich’s Facer page and have a look around. If you are so inclined, you could also give us a “Like” as a sign of your somewhat affectionate, yet appropriately reserved support. You’ll find us hanging out right HERE.
In the meantime, as a way to bridge the gap between our two Internet locations, here is a collection of our recent Facer quips, quotes and… um, oh never mind. I may not be very good at triple alliteration, but I have been known to post a decent status update now and then. Enjoy!
It is far far better to fall upon the stone and be broken than have the stone fall upon you and grind you to powder.
In the face of life’s afflictions or temptations, a Christian obtains a headlong joy when he fixes his mind upon the nearness of Christ, his Refuge. When the mouse laughs at the cat there is a hole close at hand.
It’s easy to spot a knowledgeable theologian—his views coincide with yours.
Today’s hymn selections for the Gazingstock Baptist congregation: Wesley’s “And Can It Be,” Newton’s “Amazing Grace,” Toplady’s “Rock of Ages,” and DC Talk’s “Jesus Freak.” After service, the Christian Rock Anthems Songbook was quietly confiscated from accompanist Bertha Harp’s piano bench by Deacon Weems.
This morning at Gazingstock Baptist Church, Pastor Jeremiah Bone presented the sermon message, “Whom Do You Serve: God or Mammon?” After the service, Ralph and Audrey Stiggs grappled with another pressing question: “Golden Corral or Olive Garden?”
Social media let down our dear brother Neville Strudwick yesterday. It was the anniversary of his conversion and none of his Facebook friends posted “Happy Rebirthday” on his wall.
Encouraging news from Gazingstock Baptist Church: Garth Mudclump, a disgruntled former member who had vowed never to darken the door of our church again, had returned during our morning service. He applied two nice coats of mahogany stain and promptly left, but we all considered it a step in the right direction.
For now, dear readers… Adieu! — AngusPrint This Post