To have happiness at the expense of that of someone I love is something I could not live with.

There are times when you have to step back and love a person from afar.

Just something God taught me last night and then again this morning.

I may or may not write more about it later.

Read More

Tired of being hurt.

Tired of hurting others.

Tired especially of hurting those most precious to me.

Tired of this diseased, wretched mind that has cost me too much.

Tired of depression that lingers for weeks.

Tired of the drugs I must use to stay balanced and "normal".

Tired of every happiness crumbling into ashes in my hands.

Tired of not knowing if I am truly forgiven for my mistakes and my shortcomings.

Tired of being haunted by memories of things no one should endure.

Tired of being haunted by the faces of people I have loved, people I still love, and they never knew how much I have loved them.

Tired of being a hypocrite. And I know that I am.

Tired of not being a true and worthy friend.

Tired of being abandoned and discarded.

Tired of being a monster that must be shunned and avoided.

Tired of giving my very best in all things and it never is good enough.

Tired of seeing blessings be taken away, and being left with nothing.

I hate this mind and this flesh.

My spirit groans and cries to God to be delivered from these chains of fallen matter and broken thoughts. My heart and soul long to be free. To be embraced in perfect love in a place where there are no more farewells, forever.

I want to know that Heaven awaits, even for me.

Read More

Am I an evil person?

Read More

Life versus religion

A thought I've been contemplating the past few weeks...

Christ did not come to establish any religion.

Christ came so that we could have life, and life abundantly.

Religion and having pride in it is the destroyer of life.  It chokes life, keeps life from taking root and thriving.

Christ came to give us life, not patterns of worship.  He came to fulfill the law, not to replace the law with unduly onerous more law.

If you want to find where the kingdom of God exists on this earth, look for the joy and not the constraints. Look for the laughter, and not the pride.

Look for the life, not the religion.

Read More

Classic SESAME STREET: Weather report

Gadzooks it had been an awful long time since I've posted anything from Sesame Street!  I need to get on the ball about that.

Well, it's a new year and since this blog just turned a couple of milestones with being ten years old and hitting 5,000 posts, maybe it's time to start some stuff fresh.  So here's a great clip to get us back on track.  I think this is from the early Eighties, 'cuz that's the first I ever saw this.  Witness poor Kermit the Frog try to keep a newscast on track despite a very wacky weatherman (or two):

Read More

David Lynch is shooting new TWIN PEAKS material. For real.

"Diane, 11:30 AM, February 24th. Entering the town of Twin Peaks. It's 5 miles south of the Canadian border, 12 miles west of the state line. Never seen so many trees in my life. As W.C. Fields would say, 'I'd rather be here than Philadelphia.'"

-- F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper

Looks like we may yet be going back to the Double R Diner for that cherry pie and a damn fine cup of coffee...

"Twenty-Five Years Later..."

".ria eht ni cisum syawla s’ereht dna gnos ytterp a gnis sdirb eht, morf er’ew erehW"

This is something I thought would be more unlikely to happen than new Star Wars movies.  Still trying to wrap my brain around the idea... not that I ever got my brain wrapped around it in the first place but anyway...

David Lynch is producing and directing new footage for Twin Peaks.

In retrospect it is very difficult to argue with the impact that this series had, however brief it lasted.  Had there been no Twin Peaks, there would have been no Lost.  There probably would have never been a revived Battlestar Galactica.  A lot of series would never have been conceived much less taken root had Twin Peaks not broken the ground first.

Premiering on ABC in April of 1990, Twin Peaks was something that television had never seen before and nearly a quarter century later is still trying to figure out.  Part murder mystery, part soap opera... and all surreal as only the mind of David Lynch could evoke.  The death of Laura Palmer was just the beginning, as Special Agent Dale Cooper - and the rest of us - descended into the logging town of Twin Peaks, Washington: a place where nothing was ordinary.  A place where everyone had a secret.  A place where... "the owls are not what they seem".

I used to own every bit of Twin Peaks merchandise there was.  I even still have the soundtrack CD here somewhere.  Angelo Badalamenti's score alone made this show haunting like nothing before or since.

The chronology of the series took place in 1989.  The Little Man from Another Place told Cooper that he would see him again "in twenty-five years".  That would be this year: 2014.  Maybe it will wrap up some of the lingering mysteries left from the show's final episode.

I wonder if we'll at last get to see Diane...

(Hat tip to friend of this blog Paul Elledge for coming across this great bit of news!)

Through the dark of future past the magician longs to see

One chants out between two worlds. Fire, walk with me.

Read More

Abigail Sailors: Cracker Barrel waitress's prayers answered with customer's tip

I'm going to confess to something, dear readers.  I admit that things in my personal life lately have been more than a little rough.

I'm also going to admit that I'm now greatly ashamed at how I've looked more to what I've lost instead of to what God has... and what God is still... given me.

The low temperature this morning was 4 degrees Fahrenheit.  As of this writing it hasn't got much warmer.  But at least I can say that I am staying warm.  That I've got food to eat.  People who care for me.  A career that is beginning to take off beyond my wildest dreams (and that in itself was a huge answered prayer).

I have fretted over things lost and things ruined because of a condition I was born with and too much I let those define the parameters of my happiness when instead I had every reason to be happy with what God has bestowed upon me.  Because to be absolutely honest: I don't deserve any measure of happiness at all.

Things could be worse.  Things could be a lot worse.  And when I read the story of Abigail Sailors, well... this young lady's faith cuts right through the shallowness of my own.  It's something God needed me to read, especially right now.

Sailors is 18 years old.  She's a waitress at a Cracker Barrel restaurant in Lincoln, Nebraska.  Until recently she had been a student at Trinity Bible College, and had just finished her first semester studying psychology and youth ministry.  She had to leave before the spring semester so that she could work a job to take care of her family and be able to save money for a return to school next fall.

And then a few days ago two men stopped by her restaurant and asked for "the grumpiest server" the Cracker Barrel had.  Instead they got who the manager thought was the happiest: Abigail Sailors.

As she waited on them and served their food, the two men pried Abigail's story out of her.  They thought it was amazing that someone with so much going against her was so upbeat and cheerful.  But Abigail told them that things could be worse, that "I’m just thankful. Everything we went through, my attitude is: God blessed me with a lot of things. I’m doing good. That’s all that matters to me."

Long story short: the two men left her with a tip she'll never forget.  They departed the table leaving behind $6,000: one thousand to spend on her own needs and a $5,000 check made out to Trinity Bible College for her tuition.  They also left $100 to split between Abigail and another waitress.

Click here to read more about Abigail Sailors' terrific tale at JournalStar.com.

There is still good in this world.  God hears our prayers.  And God does answer our prayers.  It's stuff like this that makes me keep believing that.

Read More

Peter Capaldi's first full day as the Doctor...

More than any other Doctor previous, it seems like there was no initial "sinking-in" period when Peter Capaldi made the transition from Matt Smith during "The Time of the Doctor" almost two weeks ago.  Maybe it had to do with how the Twelfth Doctor flashed into existence instantaneously before our eyes, rather than have a lengthy regeneration sequence.  One moment I was on the verge of tears watching Smith's beautiful departure, and then WHAM!! without warning it's Capaldi ranting about his kidneys and screaming "DO YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW HOW TO FLY THIS THING?!?"

 
It's not a pic of him yet after he picks what will become his signature look (in fact he's still wearing the clothes that Matt Smith's Eleventh Doctor was wearing) but the BBC has released a photo of Capaldi (along with Jenna Coleman) on his first day on the set for a Doctor Who story of his very own!

That must be the proverbially happiest kid on the planet right now.  Coleman is looking pretty excited too :-)

Read More

"Winter is coming"

Actually, scratch that... because winter is here, bay-bee!!!!

Freezing records getting shattered all over the country today.  Here in North Carolina we're set to have a morning temperature of 4 Fahrenheit two days from now.  Even so, we're much warmer than our friends in the north.

Let's hope the Wall hasn't been breached.

'Cuz if you thought illegals coming in from the South has been bad, it's nothing compared to the White Walkers!

Speaking of Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire, I've developed a theory. Despite everything George R. R. Martin insists, I think the world of Westeros may be our own Earth, thousands of years from now.  There have been what could be deemed a few hints that such is the case (in the books, not so much the HBO television series).  Whatever it was that threw the seasons so wildly out of whack is a catastrophe that is yet to come in our world's future and the characters are going to find... well, something that will substantiate that during the next two books.  Even if I'm wrong, it's still an awesome series (and one that I'm re-reading now :-)

Read More

William Overstreet Jr. passes away at the age of 92

This is a photo of William Overstreet Jr. of Roanoke, Virginia, taken in recent years:

Photo Credit: The Roanoke Times

Mr. Overstreet passed away this past Sunday afternoon.  He was 92, and one of the most decorated airmen of World War II.

This is a photo of Bill Overstreet when he served in the Army Air Force during the war:

And this is the maneuver that forever put Overstreet in the history books:

This dude engaged in a dogfight with a German Messerschmitt Bf 109G over Nazi-occupied Paris.  And Overstreet, flying his P-51C, chased the Messerschmitt by flying through the arches of the Eiffel Tower!!  Overstreet soon after blasted the Nazi plane out of the sky.  It was a move that sent the morale of the French freedom fighters soaring.

Now... that is seriously hardcore.

Overstreet, a pilot in the357th squadron, was the recipient of hundreds of medals during his time of service.  In 2009 he was awarded France’s Legion of Honor during a ceremony at the National D-Day Memorial in Bedford, Virginia.

Now he is gone, but not to be forgotten.

Rest well, noble hero.  Your generation really was the greatest... and you were one of the best of them.

Read more about the extraordinary life and achievements of William Overstreet Jr. at The Roanoke Times website.

Read More

North Carolina town councilman tenders resignation... in Klingon

Gowron, not David Waddell
(but Gowron should have
resigned too, when you
think about it...)

That does it: if I ever run for office again and win, I'm going to give my acceptance speech in High-Elvish Sindarin!

Indian Trail is a nice town near Charlotte here in North Carolina.  And one of its city councilmmembers - one David Waddell - had decided that "enough was enough" about the way the officials of Indian Trail were handling what he considers to be development run amok, among other things.  Exasperated by it all, David Waddell decided to resign his seat.

Except that he did it using the Klingon language: the tongue spoken by the proud warrior race from the Star Trek franchise.

Here's the story from The Charlotte Observer:

An Indian Trail councilman decided to boldly go where no politician has gone before – and tendered his resignation this week in the Klingon language.

Apparently David Waddell no longer wanted to live long and prosper on the board.

In an interview Thursday, Waddell said his resignation letter to Mayor Michael Alvarez was written in Klingon, the language of a proud warrior race in the “Star Trek” TV shows and movies, as an inside joke. But in case the mayor wasn’t up to speed with his Klingon, Waddell included a translation using Bing.com.

“Folks don’t know what to think of me half the time,” said Waddell, so “I might as well have one last laugh” on the board.

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2014/01/02/4582880/indian-trail-councilman-resigns.html#.UscUbs4uf5m#storylinAndAnd here's the text (and English translation) of Waddell's letter:

And here's the letter that Waddell submitted, in both Klingon with English translation:

"Perhaps today is a good day to resign"!  Good play, David.  You may have left a Klingon, but it sure sounds like you tried to bring the logical mind of a Vulcan to city politics.  May you live long and prosper!

(Tip o' the hat to friends of this blog Eric Wilson and Joshua Phoebus for passing this story along.)

Read More

It's The Knight Shift's 10th Anniversary!! AND it's Post #5,000!!

In the beginning...

Friday, January 02, 2004

Here we go, fast and furious...

I made an attempt to start a blog in March of last year. And it woulda been a fun thing to have done last year, had real-life situations not taken precedence. In a nutshell, 2003 was one major fiasco after another. But God brought us through, none the worse for wear and maybe a little more wiser for all of it. 2004 is starting out with things looking far more on the upside for my lovely lil' spousal overunit and myself.

Anyhoo, my name is Christopher Knight and this is my blog. I'm 29 years old, presently living in north-central North Carolina with my bride of a little more than a year... At the moment I do payroll and computer work for a retailer here in town, although that will soon be changing as I've begun " taking some things on faith" as it were, and trying to step out into the larger world a bit more boldly than life allowed for this past year. So maybe it's a good thing that I'm starting this blog now: 2003 was a lot of rotten things all come together. Perhaps I tried taking control of things more on my own. In 2004, I'm going to give it all over to God, and let Him make of it as He will. I've no doubt that if I can do that, that this is going to be a great new year.

So this blog will (hopefully) chronicle that in a timely fashion, along with other things. It'll also be a sounding board for some of my musings. Politically I could be considered a strong conservative, although I detest what the Republican party is fast becoming and loathe what the Democrat one long ago became. I'm a huge fan of Star Wars and the works of J.R.R. Tolkien (and may write at length on Return Of The King after seeing it for the third time hopefully this weekend), enjoy a number of computer games both online and off, and generally will try anything for fun so long as it's not immoral, illegal or causing cancer.

 That was 3,653 days ago.  Ten years later and... I think The Knight Shift has remained pretty faithful to that mission.  It's been a place to share my thoughts and experiences.  To write about the world around me from my own perspective.  To talk about things that I find interesting and share those with others.

But... wow, has it been a wild ride or what?

This blog has gone from writing about politics, to documenting my own stab at running for office.  It has reviewed everything from movies and video games to restaurants and museums.  It's chronicled my attempts at filmmaking (something I'm feeling compelled to pick up again soon) and it saw one of my videos go viral worldwide.  This blog has wound up taking on corrupt politicians, evil cult leaders and a multi-billion dollar corporation or two (or three).  It has been a place for malcontents and moonshiners (and sometimes both at once).  It has even made national headlines a time or two.  I have written on this blog everywhere from film festivals to the Columbia River in Oregon to another country.  As the Man in Black said, "I've been ev-ah-ree-where, man!"

The Knight Shift has been a place where I have written about my successes, as well as my failures.  I realized a long time ago that "unto thy self be true", as the Bard put it.  On this blog I've written about disappointments and let-downs and more than a few abject failures.  Sometimes I wonder if I held back too much (the heartbreak of divorce being chief among them).  But I also like to believe that the good has far outweighed the bad.  And here, ten years later, this blog has taken on another role: sharing my experiences about having a mental illness.  The illness itself is pretty lousy... but I'm determined to make this a triumph instead.  This morning during my daily devotional time it hit me: if I did not have bipolar and have everything associated with it happen to me, God wouldn't have had the space to work in my life and accomplish some seriously amazing things!  Without bipolar, there would not have been that testimony I could have of what God has done and is still doing.  Do I wish that my mind wasn't turning against me like it does at times?  Absolutely.  But if I had to choose between being "normal" and witnessing God at work in my life, I would pick God every time, no matter what happens to me.

This is also Post #5,000 on The Knight Shift!  Seriously: I had not planned on the two milestones coinciding with each other.  It just happened all its own.  I knew the five thousandth post was coming up all the way back in September and I had... well, different plans for it.  Those did not come to pass, but maybe that's providential as well.  I mean, ten years of blogging and 5,000 posts are each a hefty achievement.  To have them together is almost a cosmic wink.

When I read that first post again, I can't help but feel like I'm back at square one.  2003 was a very difficult year toward its end, and the final months of 2013 had me in the deepest depression that I've ever had to endure.  Far more now than I did then, I have at last been able to be content with whatever my situation may be, because I do know that God is going to bring me through it.  He has brought me through so much already (and I've chronicled a lot of it on this site) and I've no reason to believe He won't do it.  Again and again and again.

Wow.  Don't really know what else to say.  The more I think about it, the more stunned I am that this blog really did get this far.  That it's still going and Lord willing, will keep being a place that I can share stuff with this site's readers for many more years to come.  And speaking of that...

There are two people I owe the longevity of The Knight Shift and whatever success it might have had.  The first is God.  The second... is this site's readership.  And there are a lot of you.  A lot of regular readers.  From all over the world!  On any given day this blog gets visitors from all over the United States (including several in the United States Congress, gotta wonder why) and a whole bunch of other countries (a long-coming "greetings" to my friends in Moscow!).

I would have probably given up a long time ago were it not for this blog's devoted readership.  And to be honest, I don't know where I would be personally without the encouragements and prayers that many of y'all have given me in all this time.

From the bottom of my heart, and more than I could possibly convey with words, to each of The Knight Shift's readers, I say this:

Thank you.

So... where do we go from here?

A few things are on my plate at the moment, and I'll get to them as work permits (yes, contrary to what some have claimed I do have an active career, as a freelance writer.  And I may be diversifying very soon, parse that as you will).  More films are definitely coming.  I don't know if I'll run for office ever again but if that happens, I'm certainly going to document that journey as well.  In fact, were I to run I've some ideas for campaign commercials that will make that Star Wars-inspired school board ad downright tame in comparison!

We'll see how it goes.  "Always in motion, is the future," Yoda observed.

Anyhoo, for ten years and five thousand posts, The Knight Shift and its eclectic proprietor thanks you and yours and... I'm looking forward to seeing where the next ten years and another five thousand posts will bring us! :-)

Read More

Just finished watching the new SHERLOCK!

It's "The Empty Hearse", and it's the first new episode in almost two years.

And it is bloody, gob-smackingly brilliant!!

This is television of the highest calibre. Better than most big-budget films at the cinema, definitely.

Okay, I'm gonna watch it again. After the work I pulled off today, I've earned the respite :-)

(And maybe soon I'll afford myself time to finally watch this season of The Walking Dead.)

Well done, Moffat and Gatiss and Cumberbatch and Freeman. Well done indeed.

Read More

Yay, I did it!

I got all the way to the end of 2013 without getting a single speeding ticket!!

It's a record I shall try to maintain in 2014 :-)

Read More

Let's ring in the New Year with style!

It's none other than Grandpa Jones and his lovely wife Ramona doing something truly amazing with a whole bunch of cowbells...


Dare I do it? Dare I?!?

I can't resist...

"I gotta fever!  And the only prescription is MORE COWBELL!"

 If you don't know who Grandpa Jones was, you need some educatin' in the worst way!  Louis Marshall Jones was a longtime fixture on country music radio and the Grand Ol' Opry.  He picked up his stage name when he worked at WBZ in Boston and was playfully called "Grandpa" because he was so cranky in the mornings.  Jones decided to make an act of it.  That was 1935 and Jones was "Grandpa Jones" all the way up to his passing in 1998.  He's long been regarded as one of the greatest banjo players ever.

And he even played cowbell!  And more of it! :-)

Read More

This year's DOCTOR WHO Christmas special: What DID Chris think of "The Time of the Doctor"?

I loved it!!  But first...

If if was nothing else, it had to be said: 2013 was the Year of the Doctor.

The anticipation for Doctor Who's fiftieth anniversary ramped up fast after the year began.  The coming of Jenna Coleman's Clara as a regular companion certainly started things off nice.  Some of the ensuing half-season was a little touch and go, but otherwise it proceeded in fine style...

...and then came "The Name of the Doctor".

More than half a year later, in spite of everything that we've watched since, I'm still feeling numbstruck by the season finale (find my review here).  Throughout the ensuing summer and fall I think a lot of us were tormented with the thought: had Steven Moffat finally lost it?!  For the first time ever Doctor Who seemed poised to derail completely.  The image of that unknown incarnation of the Doctor, "the one who broke the promise", turning to show us the grizzled visage of John Hurt and those big letters onscreen letting us know in no uncertain terms "this IS the Doctor!!" is one that will forever be burned into my pop cultural gray matter.

But "The Day of the Doctor" - the fiftieth anniversary special - restored all faith in Moffat as a showrunner.  No, more than that: Moffat is arguably the finest custodian of Whovian mythology we have seen since... well, maybe since before John Nathan-Turner's era.  "The Day of the Doctor" was everything an anniversary celebration should be: a "love letter" to the fans, a story that drastically expanded the Whoniverse and top it all off it was a story that totally changed the course of the series.  For eight years we've seen the Doctor as a scarred and wounded veteran of the Time War: a man haunted by the choices he had to make in order to keep all hell from breaking loose across the width and breadth of creation.

The Doctor is a wounded man no more.  Now he's a man with the greatest mission of his life: to find Gallifrey.

Well played, Moffat.  Well played indeed!  And that appearance by Tom Baker was the prettiest bow that a gift to the fans could possibly have had.

It was early summer that Matt Smith announced he would be retiring in this year's Christmas special, handing the role of the Doctor to a new actor.  And then came August, and the massive hype about the reveal of the next Doctor: a part that we found would be filled by Peter Capaldi.  So coming on the heels of the fiftieth anniversary special, this year's Christmas story had to be a fitting swan song for the Eleventh Doctor and for the actor who reigned during the most explosive popularity of the entire franchise... and ring in the new with the Twelfth Doctor.  A lot to live up to, no doubt...

So... what did I think of "The Time of the Doctor"?

It was not perfect.  But... yes, I loved every minute of it!

It's glaringly obvious that Moffat was trying to shoehorn in a lot of material that likely had been intended for another season with Matt Smith as the Doctor, in an attempt to tie up all the loose ends since the Doctor last regenerated.  Even so, I think it was as good a job as could possibly have been done.  Ironically this is also the Doctor Who story that covers a bigger span of chronological time than any other previous: more than 300 years, from the time the Doctor and Clara first arrive in the town of Christmas up to the final showdown with the Daleks attacking Trenzalore.  Yes, it would have been fun to have seen all of this unfold over another season... but we still got a great tale and a fitting Christmas special at that.

Did anyone else think that the very-aged Doctor hearkened back to William Hartnell as the Doctor?  Because I can't but think that maybe the First Doctor, in his younger days, was much like the Matt Smith we have witnessed during the past four years: Smith wanted his Doctor to be "an old man in a young man's body".  Now we've seen him play the Doctor as a young man in an old man's body... and for some reason it makes Hartnell's First Doctor... well, more modern-ish Doctor, if that makes any sense.  In any case it was a terrific and bold direction to take the Doctor in his final journey with the part.

One of the bigger mysteries of Doctor Who is one that was set up all the way back in "The Deadly Assassin" nearly forty years ago: how would the "twelve regenerations" limit be dealt with?  This was one of my favorite things about "The Time of the Doctor": Moffat showing us that the twelve regenerations have already transpired, because they included the Tenth Doctor's little stunt in "The Stolen Earth"/"Journey's End".  We don't have to wait until Capaldi decides to turn in the keys to the TARDIS: that little matter is now dealt with, presumably for the next fifty years or so.  At the end of which the Time Lords will probably decide they need the Doctor to stick around forever and just max out his life limit.

And speaking of regenerations: Matt Smith's was the best ever.  Yeah, I said it.  I'll always love David Tennant's bow but in retrospect that seemed a bit too sentimental, perhaps owing to how Russel T. Davies had the Tenth Doctor revisiting all the major characters from the Davies era.  There was no such gesture in "The Time of the Doctor", and yet Matt Smith's departure was far more poignant and heartbreaking.  During his final speech to Clara it was as if Smith was breaking the fourth wall and talking to us in the audience, telling us how much he appreciated his time as the Doctor and how thankful he was for our embracing him in the role.

It was by far the greatest regeneration scene in the history of the series.  It was the one by which all future regenerations will be measured, I think.  And Matt Smith left in a bang: everything from Clara's finding the Doctor in his rocking chair on through the regeneration itself is pure storytelling gold.  The scene of the Doctor atop the bell tower, raging defiantly against the Daleks ("We're breaking some serious science here, boys!" as he proclaims "Regeneration Number Thirteen... it's gonna be a whopper!" will go down as one of the most iconic Doctor Who moments ever).

The very last moments, when the Eleventh Doctor has that vision of Amy (a very touching cameo from Karen Gillan) and the Doctor letting his beloved bow tie fall to the floor of the TARDIS... that was the moment when the tears came, if they hadn't already.  I don't think anything else could have been as perfect a final moment as that...

But as soon as the crying finally hit, we got hit with the shock of Peter Capaldi's uber-manic entrance as the Twelfth Doctor.  It was the fastest regeneration ever and by far the most bewildering.  I mean, when your new Doctor's first words are "KIDNEYS!  I've got new kidneys!" you just know that there's some severe craziness incoming.

Matt Smith, thank you.  Because of you Doctor Who is bigger than it has ever been before.  And because of you, bow ties have never been cooler!  I'm the owner of an official Doctor Who bow tie... and I will be wearing it with pride for many years to come.

Eleven's time has drawn to a close.  Now bring on the Twelfth!

"The Time of the Doctor" gets 4 and 1/2 Sonic Screwdrivers out of 5 from this blogger.  And it's going to be a long, long wait until next fall when Doctor Who returns.  Maybe if we're good Moffat and his crew will give us another mini-episode like "The Night of the Doctor".  Please Mister Moffat, please??

Oh yeah, one last thing: bring back Handles!  Handles was one of the best companions ever!!  If the Doctor can fix K-9 then surely he can fix Handles.  Handles was awesome! :-)

Read More

Merry Christmas 2013

It occurred to me a few days ago that I had yet to post the traditional Christmas piece this year.  I don't have any particular reason why that shouldn't be done this year, except that in many ways this... well, it's not the usual Christmas for me.

It was two years ago, three days after Christmas, that my mother passed away.  But it's only been in the past few weeks that I've let that sink in, found myself able to let go of lingering matters that were there.  I got through Christmas last year because of some things that aren't there this year.  Absent those, this is at last the holiday season that I'm letting myself be confronted with that loss (and a number of others).

I'm not going to avoid them.  It's time to let them confront me and for me to come out the better for it.  That's happening already.

A few weeks ago I had myself voluntarily admitted to a psychiatric hospital.  I had to do it because my life had become completely unmanageable.  It was severe depression, to a far worse degree than I've ever endured.  It was also because the medication I've been on to treat the bipolar needed some drastic adjustment.  I spent a week there, spending most of my time studying my Bible.  And prayer, lots of prayer.

I had to do it because the depression was taking a toll on my personal life, my work, everything.  Had I not done that, well... I don't like to contemplate what might have happened.  But I did address it and I don't think there's any weakness or shame in admitting it.  And I came out of it much stronger than I had been before.  God brought me through it.  He really did.  I can't claim any part of that victory for myself.  I could write a book about the things I went through in the hospital, especially at night.  God brought me through each night, just as He brought me through this night.  Just as He is still bringing me through it.  I won't dare boast of any of that for my own.

Long story short: I'm not having any Christmas presents this year.  I'm too much thankful for the things God has given me already than to want anything that I don't have.  It took me a long time to really find the contentment that comes with His grace and to relent unto His will, His timing.

Maybe that'll make what come next on this post have more meaning than ever.

It was my best friend Chad who asked this morning if I was doing the traditional Christmas post on this blog.  After some thought about it, I'm going through with it.  Hard to believe I wrote this fifteen years ago this month, in the last issue before the holiday break.

So here it is, again, one of my favorite pieces from the old college days and something of a tradition on The Knight Shift...


Originally published in The Pendulum, Elon University, 12/03/1998

Celebrating the Christmas season means celebrating the memories

Chris Knight
Columnist
     Some of the best memories that we take through life are about the times we cherish the most. And sometimes, it doesn’t take much to bring back the joy.
     Last Friday as I was driving around Greensboro, the all-time coolest Christmas song ever came over the speakers.
     Who knows what this genius recording artist’s name is? Does it really matter? Whoever he is, he’ll forever be remembered as giving us the immortal sound of “Dogs Singing Jingle Bells”:
Arf arf arf,
Arf arf arf,
Arf Arf Whoof Whoof Whuf…
     Ahh... you know how it goes.
     And there’s the ever-beuh-beuh-beauh-beautiful rendition of Porky Pig singing “Blue Christmas” and the Chipmunks and of course “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “Christmas at Ground Zero,” but hearing those dogs singing “Jingle Bells...” ahhhhh.
     It brought me back to the very first time I heard that: on the radio coming back from school just before Christmas in 1982. I was in third grade at the time. And it brought back memories of the Christmas we had.
     It was cold and very cloudy. I remember that because Santa had brought me a telescope and I didn’t get to use it that night. Which wasn’t too big a worry, ‘cause me and my sister had our brand-new Atari 2600 to play with!
     Another Christmas memory: To this day, I’ll never forgive Anita for the pounding she gave me in “Combat.” I don’t care how fancy Sega or the Playstation get... they’ll never touch the 4-bit pleasures of the Atari!
     There have been many a Christmas since then, and I remember each one well, for all the little things they had with them.
     I’ll never forget Mom and Dad taking me and my sister to see Santa Claus at the mall in ‘84. That morning Dad asked if I’d come with him to cut firewood, so we rode the tractor into the woods. There had been snow earlier in the week, which lay around us in the crisp, cold morning.
     Dad also brought his 30-30 rifle, why I still don’t know. After we had the wood loaded, Dad asked if I wanted to try shootin’ the gun.
     There I was, a ten-year old kid, holding what looked like an anti-aircraft cannon in my tiny hands. Well, I aimed at this tree like Dad told me to, and pulled the trigger.
     To this day I cannot describe the colors that flashed before my eyes, or the sound in my ears. When my existence finally returned, I was flat on my back in the snow, and blood was gushing from between my eyes where the scope had hit my nose from the backfire.
     That night Santa saw the bandages and said “Ho ho hoooo, and what happened to you, little fellow?”
     “I got shot, Santa,” was the only thing I knew to say.
     Hey, was I gonna lie to the Big Man? Uh-uh, no way was I gonna lose all that loot!
     The following year’s Christmas I remember for many things, but especially feeding the young calves on our farm. It would be the last year our family would be running a dairy farm, and I had started helping with some of the work around the barn.
     Dad set up a Christmas tree in the milking room, with wrapped-up boxes beneath it.
     Tinsel hung from the front doors of the barn. And there was something about the feel of the place there, that has always held a special place in my heart, as if we knew that there would not be another Christmas like this one.
     I wish there had been another Christmas on the farm, because there’s something I wish I could have seen. And as silly as some people might find this, I really believe that it happens.
     You see, if you go out at midnight on Christmas Eve, you will see all the animals in the farmyard, and in the fields, and in the forests, and wherever else they may be, stop where they are.
     And then they kneel.
     They kneel in remembrance for another night, long ago. It was Christmas, but how many people could know it then?
     Nothing remarkable, to be sure: Caesar had decreed a census through the land, and each man went with his family to his town.
     One man in particular took his wife, a young woman quick with child. But there was no room for them at the inn. So that night, in a dirty and filthy stable and surrounded by animals, a child was born.
     You see, it’s easy for us to forget. At this time of the year, we are too overwhelmed by the consumption and the material and the glitter and all the customs that come with Christmas.
     And it’s too easy for us to forget that Christmas is, before everything else, a birthday.
     But the animals, who watched over Him as He lay as a newborn babe, two millenia ago... the animals have not forgotten.
     And so they kneel every Christmas and give glory to the newborn king, and in awe that God would send His Son to live among us in the greatest act of love.
     And to teach us many things, but especially to “love one another”. And to bridge the gap between man and God.
     The birth of Jesus Christ: the greatest Christmas present there will ever be. His birth, which would give mankind the greatest present it could ever ask for.
     Who in the world on that night could know the price that this present would someday have?
     Heaven and Earth sang praises to His glory on that night. The animals have always remembered that night. And Heaven and Earth still praise and sing unto Him.
     And if you only take a little time out from how busy things become at this part of the year, you can hear the singing, too. And it is a great temptation to join in that chorus.
     And perhaps in hearing, we will not forget the real meaning of Christmas, either.
     This Christmas Eve night I plan to be outside, with the same telescope that I got for Christmas all those years ago, and trying to envision a bright star over Bethlehem. Around midnight, I’m going to take a walk over to my aunt’s farm.
     Merry Christmas. Peace on Earth, and goodwill toward men.

Dedicated to the memory of W.C. “Mutt” Burton, for whom Christmas was always “In My Bones.”

Read More