The Blind Men and the Elephant

It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approach'd the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!"

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, -"Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me 'tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!"

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a snake!"

The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he,
"'Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!"

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Then, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

MORAL.

So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

Psalm 51

I'd prefer to embed the video, but the embed code isn't working, so you'll have to follow this link:

http://www.theworkofthepeople.com/a-clean-heart

Be warned!  You may find yourself perusing this site for hours on end.

I Have A Dream:

I have a dream.

I want to author the definitive, authoritative Lyle Lovett biography. 

It's not his quasi-celebrity status I'm drawn to, but the cowboy poet who resides beneath that 10-gallon hat, the quiet charm, the sly humor, and those unpretentious yet unbelievably compelling live performances. 

Of course, I don't really know this man but, from his music, I imagine him as a magnanimous student of life who is in tune to, fascinated by, and engaged with the complexities of the human spirit.  Who wouldn't want to know the story of a German-Irish Lutheran who rides both motorcycles and horses...who's known worldwide for his musical talent, but lives on and farms his grandfather's land where he grew up?

Who wouldn't want to know about growing up in Klein, Texas; about his mama; about life on the road; about his wildly gorgeous stallion, Smart N Shiney?

I want to know all those things.  I want to know the stories behind the stories...to spend weeks on a bus with Francine Reed...to learn how he remained connected with his roots and "small-time" singer-songwriters after his meteoric rise.  Or maybe I just want to use him to get to Guy Clark...my motives are a tad clouded on that front. 

But SOMEBODY needs to do this, right?  He's certainly too unassuming to write an Autobiography and his narrative is one that needs to be told.  Of that I am certain.  And who better to tell it than little ol' me?

Yep.  I have a dream.