IS IT REALLY A SHAME TO HAVE LONG HAIR?

As you can tell from this photo, I looked like a typical teenager back in the early seventies. Though I refused to compromise my Christian beliefs, I wore my hair much the same as my peers.

Thanks to Bible teachers like John MacArthur, I now know that Scripture doesn't condemn shoulder-length locks like mine. If it did, men such as Samson would have been in deep trouble.

In my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, I wrote about the older generation's obsession with my hairstyle, among other things. Here is an excerpt showing how I would have benefited back then from proper biblical instruction.

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Terry likewise confronted me after one service. "Did you know that it's a sin to have long hair?" Before I could object, he opened his Bible and read from 1 Corinthians 11:14-15. "Doth not even nature itself teach you, that, if a man have long hair, it is a shame unto him? But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering."

"I hate short hair. I had enough of that at Jericho. Besides that, everybody at school wears it long. I don't want to get more teasing than I already get."

"You shouldn't care what the others think. Why don't you dare to be a Daniel, like we sang in church today?"

"Oh yeah? How come Jesus has long hair in all the pictures we see of him?"

"That's just the artist's idea. Besides that, remember what I just read to you? A woman's long hair is her glory, but it's a shame for a man to have long hair."

I sighed and thought, "Here we go again. They just keep on hassling me about my hair."

If I had known my scriptures better, I would have quoted verse sixteen which explains, "But if any man seem to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the churches of God." i learned much later that Paul wrote of cultural matters and not eternal verities.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books are now available for purchase online by clicking here. You may click here to e-mail me directly as well.

SHAKING THE DUST OFF MY FEET.

Remember when the streets of major North American cities were filled with earnest teens handing out slips of paper to pedestrians? In the sixties and seventies, tract evangelism was a fad that swept through many churches. I was one of those impressionable teens in 1973 who figured that since others in my church were doing it, so should I.

In my How I Was Razed memoir, which I hope to publish this year, I wrote about several incidents of when my zeal for Christ led me to do foolish things. Here is an excerpt of the day when I finally gave up the tract fad.

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Though I had poor results in the past when I handed out tracts to my fellow students, I decided to give them one last chance. Believing that my Holy Spirit directed me to do so, I worked up my courage and headed to the toughest wing of the high school. True to form, those teens tore up and crumpled the tracts. Some boys even tossed them in my face. I persisted a few more times, each with the same results.

"Hey, guys, the tract pusher is back," a boy mocked as I came down the hall between classes one afternoon.

"I don't know why he keeps coming, another laughed.

"Yeah. I suppose he thinks he's doing a good business here," a third teen sneered.

I recalled that somewhere in the Bible, Jesus told the seventy disciples to shake off the dust of any village that refused to hear their preaching. "It's no use handing them out here," I muttered as I headed to class. "Their blood be upon them. I'm tired of wasting my money and time doing this."

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books are now available for purchase online by clicking here. You may click here to e-mail me directly as well.

PUSHING A ROPE

Have you ever wondered why certain religious individuals won't take 'no' for an answer? Many believe that it's up to them to 'save' people. To them, rejection of their message only indicates that the message didn't get through.

I was one of those 'pushy' people back in 1973. I believed it was up to me to convert people. Now I know better. Scripture actually says that the Holy Spirit is the one who opens the minds of those who hear the gospel.

In my How I Was Razed memoir, I wrote about how my wrong-headed desire to share my faith upset the caretaker at my high school.

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I offended the cleaning staff too. Since few students wanted my tracts and I often received taunts from my peers, I assumed that pasting the messages onto the door of my locker would be a more effective way to let people know about Christ. When I came to school the next morning, somebody had removed all the tracts. I replaced them but those vanished too. "What do you think you're doing? Don't you know that's not allowed?" the cleaning woman demanded as I pasted more tracts on my locker's door the third day.

"Isn't it? I didn't know that."

"You're not allowed to paste anything on your locker. It doesn't matter what it is. That's the rule."

"I thought it was just some mean kids who were taking them off."

"No. We have to remove them and it's a lot of work too. Imagine how ugly the place would look if we let you kids paste whatever you felt like on your lockers."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't realize."

As I shuffled toward my next class, I hung my head. My evangelical zeal resulted in wasted tracts and extra work for the cleaning staff.

The rule extended to lamp posts by the school as well. Someone had removed the tract I pasted on it when I looked for it the next day.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books are now available for purchase online by clicking here. You may click here to e-mail me directly as well.

A SIDE OF ME THAT MIGHT SURPRISE YOU.

did you know that I've composed and recorded fifteen albums of electronic music? I haven't released any of late due to being occupied with my freelance writing work, editing my How I Was Razed memoir, and searching for new customers for my two previous books. many of my pieces were played on radio stations in Moscow, Warsaw, Paris, Montreal, and on more than a dozen college stations in America. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation even aired my "Contacting U2MIR" piece across the nation. I also made a few black-and-white music videos for my tunes. Please click here to watch one of them.

From my When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) memoir, here's an excerpt about how I merged my love for rabbits with my passion for electronic music.

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My passion for that genre began in 1975 when I became an instant fan of Kraftwerk, a German electronic music group. I heard their hit, Autobahn, played on 630 CHED, Edmonton's rock music radio station, and I bought their first three albums.

Listening to them, I felt inspired to create my own sonic textures. Other electronic artists intimidated me with their racks of expensive synthesizers, but Kraftwerk's earlier music could be produced even by poor musicians.

During the late seventies, I had tinkered with various circuits and acoustic sound-making devices in my home. It was for my own amusement and I never mentioned it to my friends because I never dreamed that anybody would be interested in my sort of compositions.

In December 1984, I discovered a program on CJSR radio called Departures. The host Marcel Dion played all sorts of fascinating compositions and he invited "home tapers" to submit their music for broadcast. In March, of 1985, believing that my work might have a chance of being played, I copied all of my experiments onto a cassette and hand-delivered it to Marcel while he was doing his program.

Those early recordings were very primitive, but as time passed, I bought better gear and improved my technique. During the summer of 1998, and in honour of my beloved Gideon, I recorded an album called Lagomorph.

The title refers to the family of animals comprising rabbits, hares and pikas. When I visited a web page containing the word rabbit in different languages, I decided to title each of my new tunes with those names. It took me a few months to record and manufacture the album at home, partly due to my freelance writing work and also because of other interruptions.


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When a Man Loves a Rabbit contains many more fascinating stories of life with house bunnies. These range from the tragic to the hilarious. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

THE DEVIL'S MUSIC, EH?

Believe it or not, people used to say that rock music was evil and good Christians mustn't listen to it. In spite of Elvis Presley's gospel albums, Ocean's 1970 hit single, and Cliff Richard's steadfast example of a sanctified rock singer, church elders persisted in the errant notion that no good could come of this beat-oriented musical style.

In my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, I wrote about the times when my love of rock music was challenged and insulted by those who despised it. Here is one example of this.

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My fellow church members seemed upset with my conduct during that spring as well. "You shouldn't be listening to that sinful music," Sister R admonished as we ate sandwiches in Sister E's kitchen after one Sunday service. "You shouldn't be wearing your hair long either. Don't you know that we're supposed to be in the world but not of it?"

"I don't think it's that bad. I like it," I said as I ran a hand through my shoulder-length brown locks.

"It's ungodly and you mustn't let it defile your mind."

"There's nothing wrong with rock music. Some bands even sing about Jesus."

"But, Bruce, it's such an ungodly racket. How can you even hear the words? And your hair, it looks so unkempt."

"I like having my hair long. What's wrong with long hair?"

"The Bible says it's a sin. Brother H also said you should keep it short so that if you get in a fight, nobody can grab hold of it."

I sighed and mused, "It's pointless to argue with them. They just don't get it."

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books are now available for purchase online by clicking here. You may click here to e-mail me directly as well.

DISABLED CHILDREN ARE HUMAN TOO.

Why is it that able-bodied folks assume disabled children are either little angels or incapable of normal curiosity? From time to time, I hear amazed adults marvelling about how disabled kids are so like others. This should be abundantly obvious to all but it apparently isn't to some.

In Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), I related many instances of how my friends and I caused mischief. In this excerpt, our natural curiosity upset the adults but no real harm was done.

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Even visually impaired children enjoy taking objects apart, regardless of the mess. During March, I dismantled some dead zinc-carbon batteries. Beneath the silver paper and cardboard of the Ever-ready C cell, I found a metal canister. Once I unwrapped it, the aluminum ends came off easily. Inside the cylinder was a carbon rod stuck in the centre of black paste.

I scooped it all out, getting my hands filthy, and cleaned off the rod. Rubbing it on paper, I found that it made marks like a pencil but messier. Mrs. Auld was unimpressed when I used my writing stick in class but I still felt I made an exciting and noteworthy discovery.

Ricky, Brian, and Christian were envious of my research. They wanted cells of their own to dismantle. I refused to part with mine but I did let them examine the one I took apart. My friends eventually acquired dead cells of their own and created their own writing sticks.

Our supervisor became upset when she saw the mess I made in the Play Room and how dirty my fingers were. "Get in that bathroom, you little twerp, and wash those hands thoroughly," Mrs. Parker ordered when she saw the state I was in. Fortunately, I suffered no other punishment that evening.

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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

LEARNING WHILE LIVING WITH RABBITS

How much do you really know about bunnies? Most folks assume they understand everything about them but they actually know very little about these popular-but-misunderstood pets. Whenever I've spoken to groups or individuals about house rabbits, they continually express surprise when I tell them what I've learned while living with them.

In When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies), I related many astonishing facts about my long-eared friends. Here's an excerpt about rabbit droppings. This is important to understand as a bunny's health depends on proper digestion.

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I learned many things about rabbits, especially from living with Gideon. One of the most astounding facts was that bunnies have two kinds of droppings. There are the little round balls, which my bare feet were well acquainted with, and then the other kind called caecotropes, which are moister and look a bit like a cluster of grapes. Caecotropes or caecals come from an organ called the caecum, which is attached to the bunny's intestine, and they smell much worse than faecal pellets.

Rabbits often use their faeces as territorial markers, but they refrain from soiling their warrens. That's why Mr. Chocolate and Floppy never left any deposits on the side of the cage where they slept.

When I first saw a rabbit eating his droppings, I misunderstood and thought the animal was mentally deficient. But then I learned that caecotropes contain a lot of nutrition because they ferment inside the bunny. That way, the animal can reprocess the nutritionally poor grasses of his or her diet.

Rabbits normally live in grasslands and need to eat plenty of vegetation. As I found out with Gideon's illness in March, sugar is potentially deadly for rabbits. It causes bad bacteria in the bunny's intestine to grow explosively, releasing toxins which could eventually kill the animal. I didn't know that carrots were high in sugar until I was told that by my friends on the lists. Because rabbits have a sweet tooth and eat things they shouldn't, I needed to be careful not to let Gideon find anything containing loads of sugar or carbohydrates.

Many human foods can become deadly to them too. Even Iceberg lettuce is bad for rabbits because of its lack of nourishment. Green leafy vegetables, such as Romaine and Endive, are more suitable greens.

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When a Man Loves a Rabbit contains many more fascinating stories of life with house bunnies. These range from the tragic to the hilarious. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

MORE THAN A PLEASANT OUTING.

Do children eat vanilla ice cream these days? With all the other flavours available, and all the tasty syrups parents could augment it with, plain old vanilla seems so boring.

My dorm mates and I didn't think so back in 1965. All we ever ate, whenever Mrs. Anderson at the residential school grudgingly permitted it, was vanilla ice cream. As I related in my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) memoir, Our supervisor actually took us to an ice cream supplier located about ten blocks from the institution. Here's what happened on that sunlit March Saturday.

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In March, we visited Pete's Ice Cream Parlour. This meant much more to me than a new flag or an old leader. As I had never been to a business which actually made ice cream, the outing seemed an exciting event. Occasionally, our dietician treated us to small dixie cups filled with ice cream from that establishment. Now we were actually at the place which manufactured those desserts. Mrs. Sandyford purchased the treats and handed them out to us. As we walked back to the dorm, we ate our ice creams while enjoying the fine weather. Though it was only vanilla, that confection was much tastier than apples.

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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

UNLIKELY PET TOYS.

Isn't it funny how children and animals ignore our expensive gifts but have immense fun with the boxes? Upon hearing on PetBunny that some people gave their rabbits cardbord tubes used by construction crews for concrete forms, I decided to mooch a ride to Edmonton, the nearest large city, and buy one for my bunnies. From When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies), here's how an object meant for a building site became a beloved pet toy.

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I had a chance to go with my friend Pete to Edmonton in February and we stopped at the Home Depot. Among all the goodies for sale were cardboard tubes used to make concrete pillars. I was going to buy a six-inch diameter one, but Pete suggested I buy the eight-inch instead.

"The rabbits may need more room to hop," he suggested.

The price was the same, so I agreed. But an eight-foot tube posed quite a problem getting it into Pete's car, until he suggested we ask a store employee to cut it in three equal pieces.

All three rabbits loved their new toys.

Harry tried hopping through his, but the tube kept rolling from side to side. That ruined some of the fun, so I put the cardboard tunnel under the table and propped two water bottles against it. That worked great and Harry loved playing in that tube. It must have reminded him of being in a warren and it possibly gave him a sense of comfort.

Neutrino also loved his new toy. He even slept inside it. I moved the litter box, which he wasn't using anymore, and placed the tube next to the fireplace.

I stashed Gideon's tube under my bed and it took him a while to find it. When he did, he had just as much fun as the other two. I forget what I paid for the cardboard concrete tubes, but the joy I saw in my fur-clad lads repaid me a thousand times.

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When a Man Loves a Rabbit contains many more fascinating stories of life with house bunnies. These range from the tragic to the hilarious. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't cooperate.