These Hips Don’t Lie
I’m back in the US after spending a week in Colombia. This is another journal of my trip. Here was the first in case you missed it. The combination of winding roads, high elevation and Mario Andretti wannabe drivers made me super nauseous every time we got in a cab. Incidentally, if […]


His major contribution to the world was not a set of aphorisms. He was born in a turdy barn, grew up in a dirty world, got baptized in a muddy river. He put his hands on the oozing wounds of lepers, he let whores brush his hair and soldiers pull it out. He went to dinner with dirtbags, both religious and irreligious. His closest friends were a collection of crude fishermen and cultural traitors. He felt the spittle of the Pharisees on his face and the metal hooks of the jailer’s whip in the flesh of his back. He got sweaty and dirty and bloody – and he took all of the sin and mess of the world onto himself, onto the cross to which he was nailed naked.