<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:34:54.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith and Truth in America</title><subtitle type='html'>One young man's continual catharsis on the road to love, wisdom and light, using knowledge, prayer and scripture to navigate through modern American life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-113060977131904347</id><published>2005-10-29T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T11:16:11.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Read 'em and weep</title><summary type='text'>Read 'em and weepI am happy to see this corner of the blogiverse. I have been lax in reading, distracted and floating from one to another, between Nafisi's book to Epictetus, Aristotle, Montaigne, Plato, Epicurus, Marcus Aurelius and a little Emerson, not to mention the perennial attempt to finish off Anna Karenina.Currently, my thoughts are eclipsed by a saxaphone practicing five feet from my</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/113060977131904347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/113060977131904347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2005_10_23_archive.html#113060977131904347' title='Read &apos;em and weep'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-109645728774118510</id><published>2004-09-29T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T04:28:07.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The case for War</title><summary type='text'>The history that we have access to of the rise andfall of government continually emphasizes one pointwhen it comes to war. When there are culturaldifferences between peoples, any one of which isunable or unwilling to grant survival status to anyother culture, war ensues. War ensues until the hatred is burned off of the minds and hearts of those who lead the opposing peoples (or until they're all </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/109645728774118510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/109645728774118510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2004_09_26_archive.html#109645728774118510' title='The case for War'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-109222692885901374</id><published>2004-08-11T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T05:22:08.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I haven't blogged in forever. Well, that's not entirely accurate. It's been since October of last year. That's awhile, at any rate.Something's been on my mind lately.Well, nevermind that now. I just need to scribble a few words to reenter the corner of the universe where I type out the words as they come to me.Later, I will tell you about the enemy of democracy. It isn't Al Qaida or militant </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/109222692885901374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/109222692885901374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2004_08_08_archive.html#109222692885901374' title=''/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106665889298196404</id><published>2003-10-20T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-20T07:08:13.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In California, No Less</title><summary type='text'>An amazing thing has happened, something I never thought would be studied, or reported if it were studied, and much less from California.Scientists have determined that sexual identity is genetically hardwired into creatures. And by creatures, they intent to include humans.I'm so not joking. Check it out here: http://www.reuters.com/printerFriendlyPopup.jhtml?type=healthNews&amp;storyID=3643891Of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106665889298196404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106665889298196404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_19_archive.html#106665889298196404' title='In California, No Less'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106633741020434242</id><published>2003-10-16T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-16T13:50:09.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Work It Out</title><summary type='text'>There's an old Beatles song that has the following lyrics:"Try to see it my wayDo I have to keep on shouting til I can't go on?Why d'you see it your way,At the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone?We can work it outWe can work it out."That's a pretty accurate secular way to express how I feel about arguments sometimes. The same type people who will speak most about their </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106633741020434242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106633741020434242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_12_archive.html#106633741020434242' title='To Work It Out'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106633362699765525</id><published>2003-10-16T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-16T12:47:06.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Father's Pleasure</title><summary type='text'>What does the Lord take pleasure in?1 Chronicles 29:17 I know also, my God, that You test the heart and have pleasure in UPRIGHTNESS.Psalm 35:27 ...and let them say continually, "Let the Lord be magnified, Who has pleasure in THE PROSPERITY OF HIS SERVANT."Psalm 147:11 The Lord takes pleasure in THOSE WHO FEAR HIM, in THOSE WHO HOPE IN HIS MERCY.Psalm 149:4 For the Lord takes pleasure in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106633362699765525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106633362699765525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_12_archive.html#106633362699765525' title='The Father&apos;s Pleasure'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106606244952888646</id><published>2003-10-13T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-13T09:27:29.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What we've all been waiting for</title><summary type='text'>The Washingon Post reported Monday on research conducted by Duke University scientists that seeks to finally do what I've been asking science to give me for years.Every couple of times science and I hang out, I say, "Science, we've been pals for a while now, and I think it's about time you did something for me. How's about figuring out a way to give me remote control in my brain?"It looks like </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106606244952888646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106606244952888646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_12_archive.html#106606244952888646' title='What we&apos;ve all been waiting for'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106580571595076826</id><published>2003-10-10T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-10T14:43:13.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest</title><summary type='text'>n. 1.	Cessation of work, exertion, or activity.2.	Peace, ease, or refreshment resulting from sleep or the cessation of an activity.3.	Sleep or quiet relaxation.4.	The repose of death: eternal rest. 5.	Relief or freedom from disquiet or disturbance.6.	Mental or emotional tranquillity.7.	Termination or absence of motion.v. rest·ed, rest·ing, rests v. intr.1.	To cease motion, work, or </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106580571595076826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106580571595076826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_05_archive.html#106580571595076826' title='Rest'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106579258876866359</id><published>2003-10-10T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-10T06:29:48.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's impossible to truly love and stay the way you areIt's impossible to get there if you won't go that far</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106579258876866359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106579258876866359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_05_archive.html#106579258876866359' title=''/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106571436044861919</id><published>2003-10-09T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-09T08:47:14.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving on</title><summary type='text'>Stan nibbles trail mix at the next desk over. He keeps a giant bag of the stuff in his desk drawer. It's Sam's Choice trail mix. Sam chose it himself. Each tiny piece of dried fruit, each salted cashew.My pages for the day are done, but still I must look busy, because I know that his are not.And so I will blog.My brain is becoming active again in a sequential way in which it has been happily </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106571436044861919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106571436044861919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_05_archive.html#106571436044861919' title='Moving on'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106566168332296123</id><published>2003-10-08T17:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-08T18:08:03.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Multitasking malfunction</title><summary type='text'>Today I quit my job.I didn't actually quit, as in walking out the door. I put in my two weeks' notice. Actually, it's my three weeks and two days notice.I'm moving to Tulsa, and I'm thrilled. I can't think of any other time in my life (well maybe six months ago) when I would have thought of moving to Tulsa, Oklahoma as being thrilling.But now I live in Hugo, Oklahoma. I have never lived in a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106566168332296123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106566168332296123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_10_05_archive.html#106566168332296123' title='Multitasking malfunction'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106522496961404214</id><published>2003-10-03T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-03T16:49:29.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>logic and feeling</title><summary type='text'>I don't want to give the impression from my last entry that I honor logic over emotion, or feelings.I esteem both logic and emotion equally. They are neither one always right nor always wrong. Because they are neither one truth.Emotion: defined in part by the American Heritage Dictionary as a mental state that arises spontaneously rather than through conscious effort and that is accompanied by </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106522496961404214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106522496961404214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_09_28_archive.html#106522496961404214' title='logic and feeling'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106514462264422425</id><published>2003-10-02T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-02T18:30:22.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotion and Truth</title><summary type='text'>There's something really funny that happens to women every month. And by funny, i mean completely UNfunny, if there happen to be any women reading this, or if any men decide to repeat the contents of this blog to any women.It's not funny at all.It's called a period. As in, "This is the way it is. PERIOD."You see, a statement like that was always regarded by children as not very fair, and is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106514462264422425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106514462264422425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_09_28_archive.html#106514462264422425' title='Emotion and Truth'/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5877194.post-106487170790453581</id><published>2003-09-29T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-29T14:41:47.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A recent article written by media for media gives an interesting perspective on a story that has still not been fully told, despite all the reporting from the numerous newspapers and networks we trust to give us our information.John Burns wrote a sharp and stunning article for Editor &amp; Publisher September 15 that accuses the media industry of corruption, purchasing visas and information in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106487170790453581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5877194/posts/default/106487170790453581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marion3.blogspot.com/2003_09_28_archive.html#106487170790453581' title=''/><author><name>Marion Gooding</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15844558919894481871</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
