Bill McEntee Creative Services

Musings

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this today to me forever
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the star lit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.
 

Early this morning Los Angeles residents had a little reminder…

Diaster movies have made all kinds of money pandering to the fears of millions. We were treated recently to a movie based on the Mayan prediction that 2012 will change everything. Well I, for one, am not buying it. And to keep all the Nostradamus lovers and nervous Nells under control, I've place a live feed to a stretch of road near Malibu.
Click it if your really have to:

Free JavaScripts provided by The JavaScript Source
 

It was 1968. There was a mixture of unpredictability in the air. Onto the music scene strode Procol Harum…

America was caught in nightmare war in Southeast Asia. The Beatles had dumped the clean cut image. Jimi Hendrix was shocking the greatest guitarists. Jim Morrison was quoting Jack Kerouac.

So it was not unusual that a death trip song like "A Lighter Shade of Pale" would become a hit, or Procol Harum's other hit, "Conquistador." It was all part of the chronicling of disillusionment.

When our favorite iconoclastic TV doctor, Greg House, played the song on last night's episode of "House", the story transcended the TV genre for a moment. We were transported back to the hopes, fears, sights, sounds and smells of a moment in history that became pivotal to western culture.
 

Beach to Beacon road race on Maine's Cape Elizabeth coastline;
Sailboats, beaches, rocky coastline, seafood, colonial architecture…

I could go on and on. This was the side of Maine I missed the most during my landlocked days at Sunday River in western Maine. Beach to Beacon is just the right kind of excuse to make the drive, putting you on the coast, yet within easy reach of Portland's Old Port, with its dining and nightlife.

But alas, a guy has to earn a living, and during a brief moment of summer each year, my job became vital to my employer. The advertising materials had to be prepared, illustrations painted or updated, press runs monitored, ad agencies met with, insane working hours embraced. No complaints here, the annual summer work binge purchased the privaledge of first tracks after (or during) snowstorms all winter.

I got my "Ocean Jones" each summer with visits to Nantucket, but to be in Maine, and not savor its coastline was torture. I would have loved more trips to Jordan Pond House on Mount Desert Island.