I am not the world’s most loyal listener of the Glenn and Helen show, but I always like what I do catch. This week’s episode is well worth your time.

What caught my eye was the surname of the guests. The episode is an interview with brother and sister Claire and Mischa Berlinski, who are promoting two novels they’ve just published contemporaneously. I’ve read a few essays and one book by their father, and judging from the interview, the apples clearly have not fallen far from the tree. These people may very well be Platonically ideal dinner company: well-rounded, well-spoken, spirited, even-handed, and just the most fundamentally interesting people you could hope to know. It doesn’t hurt the interview that these two are clearly a very loving brother and sister who enjoy each other quite a bit and are accustomed to thinking and working together on worthy things.

Mischa’s book is called Fieldwork. It’s about the epic struggle between two powerful enemies of the natural world: missionaries and anthropologists. It is discussed between 8:14 and 15:30 in the podcast. Go listen now, then we’ll talk about it.

I’ll wait.

…

No, for real, listen to it.

…

Okay, welcome back.

Being somewhat familiar with the elder Berlinski, I can’t say I was surprised to find Mischa being sympathetic toward Christian missionaries and turning a bit of a jaundiced eye toward anthropologists as they are normally found in the wild. The Berlinksi father, though a self-described agnostic Jew, has some philosophical commitments which are otherwise strongly correlated with Christianity, most notably metaphysical realism and a comfort with the broad idea of Intelligent Design. Claire and Mischa are quick to point out that they are no evangelicals, and they and their hosts do indulge a near-chuckle at the expense of the evangelical worldview that comports with that of the indigenous animists who provide the setting for the novel. (Although the missionaries may assign a slightly different ontological pedigree to the spirits that torment the tribal people, they believe just as fervently that evil spirits are quite real, and quite able to be defeated by the Gospel. This seemed slightly bemusing to everybody on the podcast, but their bemusement was subtle, brief and really not all that disrespectful.)

Anthropologists, Mischa said, are almost more religious than missionaries. They see a kind of spiritual deliverance in their field work, claiming that you can never truly know yourself until you’ve left your culture of origin and immersed yourself in the life of the Other. Only then can you learn your true identity, learning what belongs uniquely to you and what is what is cultural accident. What struck me about that statement is that I’ve heard very similar things from missionaries whose work has been deeply and incarnationally cross-cultural. Immersion in another culture for years does make indelible changes in a person, and it does reveal some deeply held beliefs to be contingent and culturally conditioned. Of course, an evangelical missionary would stop short of making this a religious experience: the soul is not redeemed by learning to eat weird foods, speak hard languages, and criticize the Bush Doctrine. The soul just gets to know itself a little better.

Still, the podcast is a good listen. Never have I been disappointed by the show, but the most recent installment is particularly delightful. Enjoy.

Recently the topic of contemporary worship has come up in real-life conversation a few times, so I thought I’d compile these posts I wrote a year and a half ago into one, easy-to-find place. After, why talk to friends when you can just give them a URL? Wait, don’t answer that.

Upon re-reading the posts I find some of the prose to be a bit overwrought at times, but then I have a tendency to do that when I’m excited. Apologies in advance.

People Seem To Like It: a facetious suggestion to use an online auction system to decide what kind of music to play in church. But hey, if we’re just trying to find out what people want, why not do it right?

Music Doesn’t Matter Much: except it does. This is a brief response to people who would defuse the music discussion debate by calling it unimportant.

Defining Some Terms: the terms “contemporary” and “traditional” are problematic, but we might as well stick with them for now.

Form, Not Content: a foundational argument in the music debate. If the kind of music matters as much as the words being sung, then contemporary worship music starts to look like a pretty bad idea.

The Defense of Contemporary Music: a critical look at a few arguments typically advanced in defense of contemporary worship music.

P.S. If the title of this post seems inflammatory, it’s not mean to be. It’s a play on a tradition in computer science literature.

They’re edgy and authentic, because they cuss: the son of Jim Bakker and a programmer with messy hair want to know how it’s all gone so terribly wrong:

What the hell happened? Where did we go wrong? How was Christianity co-opted by a political party? Why are Christians supporting laws that force others to live by their standards? The answers to these questions are integral to the survival of Christianity.

I bet you’ve never heard this one before: it seems that Conservative Christianity has been co-opted by the Republican party, which has drained it of the pure, unadorned Message of Jesus. No, for real:

His parables and lessons were focused on love and forgiveness, a message of “come as you are, not as you should be.” The bulk of his time was spent preaching about helping the poor and those who are unable to help themselves. At the very least, Christians should be counted on to lend a helping hand to the poor and others in need.

This brings us to the big issues of American Christianity: Abortion and gay marriage. These two highly debatable topics will not be going away anytime soon. Obviously, the discussion centers around whether they are right or wrong, but is the screaming really necessary? After years of witnessing the dark side of religion, Marc and I think not.

So Christians—by which I mean the dorky, untattooed, Republican kind—can’t be counted on to lend a helping hand to the poor. This would come as a surprise to Syracuse University professor of public administration Arthur Brooks, whose recent book argued at length that religious conservatives are in every measure more generous than secular liberals. Perhaps Jay means they can’t be counted on to disburse public funds for the benefit of the poor, which is much closer to the truth. I suppose if they were cool, tattooed, Democrat Christians, this failing would be remedied.

Moving on, surely we can agree that “the screaming” about abortion and gay marriage isn’t necessary. Surely Jay and Marc mean we should engage key aspects of Christian ethical orthodoxy in respectful, rational dialog, rather than the strident garbage that too often infects our discourse. Either that or they mean “Christians should be able to look past their differences and agree to disagree.” Which I take to mean keep abortion legal and enact marriage rights for all, just like you had coolness and tattoos of your own.

It is becoming a tired emergent trope that American Christianity (or Christ-following, or whatever you want to call it) has been wedded to conservative politics, and the answer, rather than dissolve that unholy union, is to get it hitched to liberal American politics. If they would merely say that the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of the United States are two separate entities never to be conflated, I would cheer them and their dangerous haircuts and their scary tattoos all day long. Many an American evangelical needs to hear this message. But they don’t stop there. When they say God isn’t a Republican, they really seem to mean that he is, in fact, a Democrat.

And it’s not just disaffected emergent youths. I’ll never forget a sermon I heard by a well-known and deservedly very respected leader in American urban ministry. He was talking about where we could expect to find the locus of truth, and ticking off various institutions that could be expected to turn up empty. “You won’t find it in the Republican Party!” he thundered at one point. “You won’t find it in the Dem—in the liberal Democratic party!”

Uh-huh. I guess that tells me where to look. Bakker and Brown seem to be pointing me there too. Thanks for disabusing me of my reactionary and unthoughtful politics, boys!

Check out Bakker’s church if you’re interested. The decade in which my son enters his teens will see television ministry by a man named Bakker, just like his old man.

I’ll leave you with this: RevolutionNYC.com uses table-based layout again, just like the Christ Follower people. Plus the DOCTYPE is jacked, so it renders in quirks mode. Hipness has a price, guys. The piper will invoice you, guaranteed.

ALLAHPUNDIT is surprised at the severity of the religious stereotyping in a set of four would-be uber-hip commercials for a church franchise in and around Naperville, Illinois. Tellingly, he says:

Their “Journey” page doesn’t say much but judging from the ads they’re not entirely comfortable being called “Christians,” at least in the cultural sense. Either that or they’re trying to convert unbelievers by first turning them into hip, laid-back “Christ-followers,” at which point they’ll proceed to what the CCC portrays as phase two: full-fledged dorkwad Christianity.

AllahPundit has been kind enough to put together a convenient playlist of the videos for us:

This is an interesting barometer of this kind of approach to church: hip, influential, culturally connected non-Christians are finding themselves unimpressed by the attempt of Christians to be hip, influential, and culturally connected. It continues mercilessly in the post’s comments:

“Christ-follower” sounds WAY dorkier than “Christian!”

This is a legitimate criticism with which fans of the former phrase will have to contend. Escaping the charge of dorkiness is hardly the highest calling of Christians (or even Christ followers, for that matter), but clearly the folks at Community Christian Church are trying hard enough to dodge it. Survey says they’re failing.

Next one “spamat” weighs in:

Oh goody. Muslims worldwide are returning to their roots while Christians are fighting over who can reject their past more strenuously.

“Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.”

With any luck, the hipper-than-thou Christians will focus-group themselves into irrelevance, but I doubt it.

The seeker church might impress soccer moms, and the emergent church might impress disaffected artistic youths, but for whatever it’s worth, spamat isn’t buying any of it. I wonder how typical he is. I suspect more than some would like.

Speaking of the emergent church, one commenter suggested that this place is one, the implications of which he went on to explain patiently to the readership of the blog. Not likely. How can I tell? First of all, what would the Emergent Conversation say about a multi-campus congregation? Seems pretty Boomer to me. Second: the web site uses tables for layout. The thing has more td’s in its About page than a seeker megachurch has uncritically accepted modernist assumptions in a whole year’s preaching. And everybody knows emergent churches use valid XHTML 1.1—works better with screen readers, you understand—and CSS.

Yes, you had to be both an armchair theologian and a web designer to get that joke, but hey, this ain’t a general interest blog. And I’ve got the traffic stats to prove it!

The broader point concerns the virtues of rejecting the label “Christian” for cultural reasons. It’s not unusual for missionaries to Muslims to avoid this term because of its intractably negative historical and cultural associations in that context, and I think we can all give them a pass on that. It’s not like scripture gives us a certain label we are required to use for ourselves. “Christ follower” is surely a candidate, but personally I’m troubled by the emphasis it carries. I am, after all, a Christ believer before I am a Christ follower. Perhaps I spend more of my time following than believing, but the former is worse than useless without the latter.

I’m sure no simple label will be able to articulate the nuanced synthesis most Protestants make of the biblical teaching on faith and works. And it’s not like any label is going to do an adequate job distancing me from the various characters I’d rather avoid. Does “Christ follower” make it clear that I’m not emergent, not seeker-sensitive, not old-school fundamentalist Landmark Baptist, not contemporary-music-loving-program-driven-broadly-evangelical, not fire-breathing-exclusive-Psalmody-TR? Perhaps I could obsess less over the label and spend more time being friends with people, hopefully defusing their negative stereotypes in the process? That process doesn’t scale as well as mass media, but it just might work.

OOPS: Community Christian Church’s “Recommended Websites” page (calling it “Links” is so 1996) links to Leonard Sweet and The Ooze! I guess I’m wrong: emergent it is. In fairness, The message of the videos could as easily be seeker-driven as anything else, so it’s hard to say for sure from here.

P.S. If you don’t know who AllahPundit is from his previous blog, ask me in the comments and I’ll tell you. The name is odd enough to warrant explanation.

Yesterday my family had the privilege of being publicly received into the membership of Skyview Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Highlands Ranch, CO. The children also received baptism, a game to which I could be accused of being a little bit late. (At your option you can read more on my extremely predictable conversion to paedobaptism. Also, for a limited time only, follow the riveting discussion of Presbyterian ecclesiology in the comments!)

Various grandmothers were in attendance. They had cameras and were not afraid to use them:

Both because I have not been blogging and because there are some things which one simply does not submit to Google for inclusion in the index, there is no linkable account of why this is such a big deal. But it is big. Big and good.

As I famously said in my last post, evangelicals like to fight about what we loosely call “ecclesiastical music.” Every so often an earnest soul attempts to rise above the fray, pointing out that all of this acrimony is really unbecoming of Christ followers. Sometimes this is a legitimate exhortation, and the concerned party is right to remind us that we ought to be willing in humility to consider others better than ourselves. Other times, it is a dismissive canard intoned with no small amount of sanctimony, and is often closely coupled to an agenda of its own. In either case, the core of the assertion is that we shouldn’t get so upset about this stuff; after all, if our hearts are in the right place, will we be so concerned if “our music” is played or not? Does it really matter so much, as I have been asked, as long as God is worshipped?

This argument is, of course, self-defeating. If music doesn’t matter, then stop arguing with me and let me do what I want. I mean, you said it’s not important, right?

No one is likely to agree to these terms. Let us try to find others.

Pretend for a moment that musical genre is totally insignificant, and (following the concerns of ecclesiastical music) God is equally pleased will all forms of music used in worship, period. What kind of potential does this leave music as a means of communication? Very little. And what room does this leave for the musician qua artist? None. Musicians are reduced to mere instrument technicians, leaning how to breathe and move their fingers in such a way as to produce the right sounds. They cannot “play from the heart,” for the conduit into which they would pour their hearts cannot accommodate its passions. Ecclesiastical musicians cannot claim to be doing anything very different in church on Sunday morning than they might do in a bar on a Friday night (one which serves light beer and reeks of cheap cigars). The Gospel simply cannot fit in their music in any sense whatever. Music, in this dubious scheme, can’t hold content like that. Containers have shape and volume, and the music we would seek has neither.

Now, maybe no one is arguing that all musical genres are on equal footing. Maybe there are some outliers, like rap music and that weird atonal stuff your one friend did in grad school, that are beyond the pale. Maybe those are bad, but adult contemporary pop is all good, all the time. But if you grant me that, then the argument has already moved onto my turf. Now we are arguing what kinds of music are appropriate for what purposes, which is precisely what I want to argue—and precisely where I think contemporary Christian music will fall flat as a liturgical device. But there are more posts to go, and I am getting ahead of myself.

Apparently music matters. We want it to matter. We should be glad as God’s image-bearers that it matters to us. It is good that we are willing to expend significant amounts of energy commending, implementing, and re-implementing our views on the topic. Contrary to what some outsiders might conclude, we don’t enjoy bickering for the sake of bickering. We are a people deeply concerned about things like piety, truth, and mission. If music is at all wrapped up in these things, then it is, to put it bluntly, most certainly worth fighting over. So let us examine how it is we are prosecuting these Wars that we read so much about.

Hopefully you have someone in your life who believes very different things about ecclesiastical music than you do. If you can have a civil discussion with this person, and you’ve never had just this discussion before, ask that person why it matters to them that music is so darned Cool or so darned Old. Rather than attempt to respond to everything your friend says point-by-point, pay attention to the categories he is invoking. Let me guess some things you might hear:

“Contemporary music is so much more celebrative than traditional music.”

“I feel more worshipful when I’m singing hymns/choruses.” (pick one)

“Traditional music is stifling! I feel like I’m attending a Mass.”

“We should sing traditional church music, like Fanny Crosby and the Gaithers.”

“Young people will leave the church after they graduate high school if we don’t play their music for them.”

“God can be honored with an electric guitar and a fuzz box just as well as with Bach and a pipe organ. Musical style doesn’t matter.”

“Adult contemporary pop is my heart language.”

Any of this sound familiar? It does to me, because I’ve heard it all in one form or another. In the coming weeks, I hope to provide a means to inform the discussion of the songs we sing when we are gathered. This stuff is worth fighting about. Let’s fight well.

Recently I have had the privilege of discussing the matter of worship music with some of my fellow suburban evangelicals. My church is attempting to reorient itself away from a purely contemporary format and towards what has come to be known as “blended worship,” a format which is intended to combine the best of the old with the best of the new. Naturally, this is an occasion for Jihad. This should not be.

Let us summarize the situation. Old people and young curmudgeons like “traditional” music. This uses large choirs, organs, and orchestral instruments to support the congregational singing of lyrically complex, theologically substantive songs, many of which may be more than 150 years old. Cool people and baby boomers like “contemporary” music. This uses a small team of pretty vocalists backed by guitars and drums to lead the congregation in singing lyrically simple, emotively charged songs, preferably written by Rick Heil or Darlene Zschech sometime within the last five minutes.

How can a church unite the competing preferences of the old, the curmudgeonly, the young, and the Boomer? It is very difficult for leaders to judge accurately what the congregation really wants. There are vocal minorities, to be sure, but how well do they represent their constituencies? And what will appeal to the church’s target demographic in the surrounding community? In short, what is the ideal “blend” between traditional and contemporary forms for any given congregation?

Normally these questions are answered by guesswork and trial-and-error, colored by the prejudices of the worship pastor and his lay leaders. Given the ferocity of the “Worship Wars” of the past decade, the approach seems not to want for refutation. Wither then shall we go for our answer? Enter our faithful friend and truest ally: Efficient Market Hypothesis.

The EMH did an outstanding job calling the election last November through the agency of an online betting exchange. Its relevant proposition is that in a certain type of market (an “efficient” one), aggregated information is accurately represented by a market price. In the case of the election prediction, instead of weighing divergent polls and sticking one’s finger in the wind of the closing news cycles of the election season, one could simply look at the price of a share of Bush Victory in a betting exchange to see what the true public consensus was. It is an economic proposal on increasing solid theoretical footing, and it can lead God’s people to a more equitable solution to the problem of competing worship preferences.

I propose the creation of an online worship service marketplace. Members of a church will be able to bid for a “share” of worship—perhaps a song, a block of time, or an entire service—and then dictate their preferred worship style for that unit after purchasing it. Interested worshipers can watch the activity of the marketplace to get a sense for the direction of the church. If an old person or young curmudgeon sees many shares of contemporary worship being purchased, he or she can bid higher prices to purchase the shares and convert them to a traditional format. While the cool people or baby boomers who had owned the contemporary shares truly do desire that worship take place in their preferred style, surely they have some asking price at which they are willing to make a compromise. Likewise the other way around, when alarmed contemporary worship partisans see too many worship shares under traditionalist control.

The share prices will quickly converge on an equilibrium, resulting in just the right amount of traditional and contemporary music being played in the church’s worship services. The leaders of the church will never, over the long term, be as good at extracting all of the needed information to strike this balance as the marketplace will be. The true desires of the people will be reflected in the prices of the worship shares—nothing more, nothing less. Leadership might even elect to do away with the marketplace after prices are initially determined, deciding to fix the balance of styles in perpetuity as the market has directed. While this might be tempting, I would be quick to remind leaders that an ongoing exchange of worship shares ensures that changes in congregational demographics and large-scale worship trends are always reflected in the current prices.

Now, some objections must be dealt with, most obviously the thorny issue of high market values on worship shares. If there are well-balanced factions in a church which are both very wealthy and highly opinionated, then the price of a share of worship might well be driven up out of the reach of middle-class or working-class parishioners. Surely we would want to avoid the condemnation of James 2:1-4 under this system! This objection is weighty, but it is not without its parallels in the old, discredited system of trial-and-error and pastoral prejudice. It is not as if we live now in some idealized age of a gilded, democratic ideal where all voices are heard and weighed equally. The worship marketplace is simply a more efficient and more visible means of accomplishing the same goal pastors and Elders today strain to achieve through often elitist and unfair means. If you really want to know where people’s hearts are, just watch where they put their treasure. I say let the market work!

In extreme cases where the prices inflate to very high levels, worshippers of more modest means can reorganize into congregations in which they can expect to exert more influence. Not only does the marketplace resolve competing claims on stylistic preferences fairly and peacefully, but the age-old problem of congregational income inequality is done away with to boot! This will increase harmony between parishioners even more.

One might also wonder what becomes of the money paid into the system. Finance deacons and Elder boards across evangelicalism will hardly see this as an objection! Very rarely are churches awash in too much money, so there should be little problem in practice disbursing this additional revenue. Priority should be given to more powerful amplifiers (if contemporary music dominates) or new robes and chorale sheet music (if traditional music dominates), but this can be done at the discretion of the leadership. If these programs are already adequately resourced, then the perpetually under-funded Coffee Ministry might benefit, perhaps liberating worshippers from the 1980s-style tyranny of the Columbian drip and expanding into espresso and lattes, which appeal so much to the younger demographic. In the case of very successful worship marketplaces, some money might even be allocated for ministry to the poor. (If any can be found. I keep hearing about them, but I never see any around my house.)

With ever-growing evidence of the power of markets, and with ubiquitous Internet access among suburban evangelicals, the time is now to declare a lasting peace in the Worship Wars. The proposed marketplace is the only mechanism that can do a fair and accurate job of uncovering the most vexing hidden data facing evangelicals today: our congregants’ true worship preferences. So what do you say, O leaders of evangelicalism? At the time of this writing, the domain name worshipmarket.com is available. The software to support the marketplace is not terribly complicated. Any takers?

But you know, on second thought, this is a wicked idea. Maybe I started with invalid assumptions.

This was on All Things Considered last night (original story here.)

We rarely get a glimpse of the profound effects of sin like this: human beings placing their most private, gnawing shames on display. Not that the effects of sin on are hidden from us. Creation groans with devastating, shuddering sobs. Depravity becomes clearly recognizable when silhouetted against blood stains on school floors, adulterous husbands starving inconvenient spouses, or governments starving inconvenient populations. But the sin, guilt and shame of the soul remains safely locked away. Invisible.

I admit that I routinely dismiss the spiritual needs of the wealthy. Their shiny new autos sport fine leather interiors and seat warmers. Their healthcare may be a bureaucratic maze, but there is no gripping dread when they hear their little child come running into the house crying. They need not pray for their daily bread.

Yet look at those postcards and remember how such comforts provide no buffer against the ravages of depravity. Our chrome-plated accoutrements are this century’s magic amulets worn for protection against the inner plagues. Still the conscience remains disfigured by buboes, clear harbingers of impending spiritual convulsions and inevitable death.

Here is where the power of God’s grace proves most miraculous and effective, lest we forget. Does the Gospel of Christ change wicked social and economic structures? Is it true that there is not a single thumb’s width of the universe over which Christ does not say, “Mine”? Yes. Without doubt. But the power of the Gospel begins with God’s reaching out to the souls of these postcards, those consciences which stand condemned, knowing the weight of guilt and shame. This Gospel is no simple prayer for God’s wonderful plan for your life: it is the genuine washing of the soul, the imputation of every node of guilt onto the innocent, holy Son. Wealthy humans may have difficulty responding to such grace, despising their comforts for the sake of their salvation, but our need remains as our gasping breaths grow ever more shallow and frantic. Jesus Christ is our true water, our light, our salvation from such a mire.

It’s not that I find any problem with Zondervan’s choice of flower for the cover of their new gender-specific edition of their gender-neutral translation. But don’t you think it just a little bit odd to pick the one flower that has become the central symbol for a Certain Adherence to Logic and Veracity from Inner Netherlands? And (ahem!) five of them? Perhaps I have just come to assume that any given behemoth publishing house (especially one directed by less than theologically-sound parents) would avoid such direct and confrontational symbols on the front of their niche bible.

(On the other hand, what Keswick -inspired man, surrendering to the Holy Spirit’s power and purification, would touch this with a ten foot pole? [or an 8′ 7″ Ukrainian , for that matter?] And what do you think all those high-voltage power lines are supposed to mean?

“Johnson, let’s see your layout design for the new men’s edition of our Emasculated Line.”

“Right. Well, um, here goes: Tah-dah! Whaddya think, chief?”

“Hmmm…‘Strive’…Good, good. Those holiness jacks only buy our KJV stuff anyway…‘real life issues as a man.’ I like that. Good. Now, tell me, Johnson, why is this guy taking a leak over this little hill here?”

“Oh! Well, boss, we just thought that it would appeal to the manliness of our demographic. Studies show that many, many of them, especially given recent publishing successes , feel that urinating out of doors is the key identifier of themselves as men.”

“Well, be that as it may I don’t think that little Edna will appreciate seeing a tinkling fellah on display when she shuffles into the store to buy her new Kinkaid figurine. Howzabout we just airbrush out that actual golden shower? The men will be smart enough to see what’s really going on, won’t they, Johnson?”

“Oh, sure, sir. You bet. This is one sharp demo we are dealing with.”

“Grood. I mean, good…nicely done, Johnson.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Oh. One more thing.”

“Yessir?”

“Power lines.”

“Power lines, sir?”

“Give me some high-voltage power lines across here. Lots of them. I want to men to hear the hum of God’s power when they glance at this cover, gahdammit. I want ladies with hairy underarms to demand more health studies when they walk by the display.”

“Yessir. Right away. Powerlines. You think five or six?”

“Johnson. If I see less than 18 power lines on that cover when it rolls off the presses, let’s just say you will be our poster child for gender neutrality.”

Confidential to Jerry: you play, you pay.

Enjoy.

Props are shared equally with Adeodatus, with whom this was a cooperative effort.

If you see your name in here and you’re wondering why, then be assured that you are merely an innocent bystander caught in the ironic crossfire. It is nothing even remotely personal, and any negative thing implied about you is likely false. If you’re in this list and you’re not wondering what you’re doing here, then say touch� and laugh with me.

If you don’t see your name here and you’re feeling left out, please note that I still love you. Other bullets were planned, but space was at a premium.

For those who don’t attend Southern Gables, this may be a bit confusing. You can read up on our current building program here, with the ruthless libeling of my good name found in this image. If two and two still aren’t adding up, email me, and I’ll explain the joke. It is, in the final analysis, worth a laugh.

By the way, if you’re wondering what “GK5″ might mean, you can read more about that here. It’s actually a very good thing, Certain Unrelated Building Programs notwithstanding.
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