The Timberline Letter

Twenty-five years ago, The Cluetrain Manifesto published “95 Theses” built around their observance of markets as conversations. Consider the top five of their theses:

* Markets are conversations.

* Markets consist of human beings, not demographic sectors.

* Conversations among human beings sound human. They are conducted in a human voice.

* Whether delivering information, opinions, perspectives, dissenting arguments or humorous asides, the human voice is typically open, natural, uncontrived.

* People recognize each other as such from the sound of this voice.[1]

So, What Happened to Marketplace Conversations?

When I recently scanned my file in an online credit site, I did not understand one factor in the rating. So, I clicked on “Hey, Ed, I can help you understand your score.” But it only gave one option; “What are your goals?” What? Goals? Trying to play along, I picked one of only three choices. But that only led to a loan application. Incredibly, they could not help me understand that one factor in my score.

I’ve also noticed that automated voice response systems that use pre-recorded greetings to manage calls rarely provide a route I need. They only give selections that compel me to give my money to strangers. The transaction feels like a large mechanical opponent suddenly locked me into a full nelson.

As Rex Miller, author and corporate guru, told me, “Today we're being invaded and manipulated by algorithms that try to anticipate what we want but are designed to take us down their rabbit hole... It sends a weird sensation of this wanna-be guide or ‘friend.’ On the surface, it looks or sounds like the genuine thing until you try to go in a direction it does not want.”

Can We Get Back to Basics?

In its purest form, human speech carries the vocal symbols, the language, the heartsounds, the essence of the soul into communion between people. It is a holy and mysterious transport.

Here’s the ideal version of what that looks like:

You dare to open your heart as you seek information, help, clarification, perhaps forgiveness. The recipient of your words listens carefully and silently. You search his face or voice for some sign of awareness, warmth, or affirmation, some sense of God in this place. Both parties plead a case. They’re vulnerable. Humble. Hopeful. This thing could go either way.

We can’t talk without risk. When we choose language sounds, we load deep mysteries of the heart onto great sailing vessels of conversation. The wind will carry that cargo to others. The entire process becomes a smoky helix of spirit, soul, and body.

But today commercial interests use language to build chutes that force people into conclusions and expenditures. They perform a role similar to slaughterhouses that build chutes to force cattle to become meat products.

Calling mechanized communication “artificial intelligence” doesn’t mean anything. Any manufactured intelligence is not intelligent. It’s like a plastic flower; it may look “alive,” but it has no organic veracity, no similarity to a flower. That whole distortion violates the integrity of language.

This is no rant or crusade. I’m only trying to create a backdrop, a context of the travesty of lowland speech so we can better understand authentic and clear highland speech and its possibilities.

Proper Seasoning

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”[2] Think of it; we walk on the earth with a magnificent commission, a calling, to speak words “full of grace” into our atmosphere. We must listen before and deeper than we speak. Everyone carries heavy loads. Give them a cool drink of encouraging and affirming words, sounds that comes from up there.

Paul said our conversations should be “seasoned with salt.” That’s so delightful; our words should create a magnificent stew. How many tasteless conversations have you endured? How many over-salted exchanges have you pushed away? We don’t need much “spice,” just a little salt to awaken the natural flavors. Not just for the one speaking, but for each participant in the conversation. Gracious communication does that.

And we can do that without regard for what politics, religion, culture, or other energy centers insist we speak about. We don’t have to react, dig in, fight, stand up and be counted, or anything else about what “they” say. Just speak in your own words, in your own voice.  

[1] The Cluetrain Manifesto, Copyright © 1999 Levine, Locke, Searls & Weinberger. https://cluetrain.com

[2] Colossians 4:6 taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright© 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™. Used by permission of Zondervan.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Twenty-five years ago, The Cluetrain Manifesto published “95 Theses” built around their observance of markets as conversations. Consider the top five of their theses:

* Markets are conversations.

* Markets consist of human beings, not demographic sectors.

* Conversations among human beings sound human. They are conducted in a human voice.

* Whether delivering information, opinions, perspectives, dissenting arguments or humorous asides, the human voice is typically open, natural, uncontrived.

* People recognize each other as such from the sound of this voice.[1]

So, What Happened to Marketplace Conversations?

When I recently scanned my file in an online credit site, I did not understand one factor in the rating. So, I clicked on “Hey, Ed, I can help you understand your score.” But it only gave one option; “What are your goals?” What? Goals? Trying to play along, I picked one of only three choices. But that only led to a loan application. Incredibly, they could not help me understand that one factor in my score.

I’ve also noticed that automated voice response systems that use pre-recorded greetings to manage calls rarely provide a route I need. They only give selections that compel me to give my money to strangers. The transaction feels like a large mechanical opponent suddenly locked me into a full nelson.

As Rex Miller, author and corporate guru, told me, “Today we're being invaded and manipulated by algorithms that try to anticipate what we want but are designed to take us down their rabbit hole... It sends a weird sensation of this wanna-be guide or ‘friend.’ On the surface, it looks or sounds like the genuine thing until you try to go in a direction it does not want.”

Can We Get Back to Basics?

In its purest form, human speech carries the vocal symbols, the language, the heartsounds, the essence of the soul into communion between people. It is a holy and mysterious transport.

Here’s the ideal version of what that looks like:

You dare to open your heart as you seek information, help, clarification, perhaps forgiveness. The recipient of your words listens carefully and silently. You search his face or voice for some sign of awareness, warmth, or affirmation, some sense of God in this place. Both parties plead a case. They’re vulnerable. Humble. Hopeful. This thing could go either way.

We can’t talk without risk. When we choose language sounds, we load deep mysteries of the heart onto great sailing vessels of conversation. The wind will carry that cargo to others. The entire process becomes a smoky helix of spirit, soul, and body.

But today commercial interests use language to build chutes that force people into conclusions and expenditures. They perform a role similar to slaughterhouses that build chutes to force cattle to become meat products.

Calling mechanized communication “artificial intelligence” doesn’t mean anything. Any manufactured intelligence is not intelligent. It’s like a plastic flower; it may look “alive,” but it has no organic veracity, no similarity to a flower. That whole distortion violates the integrity of language.

This is no rant or crusade. I’m only trying to create a backdrop, a context of the travesty of lowland speech so we can better understand authentic and clear highland speech and its possibilities.

Proper Seasoning

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”[2] Think of it; we walk on the earth with a magnificent commission, a calling, to speak words “full of grace” into our atmosphere. We must listen before and deeper than we speak. Everyone carries heavy loads. Give them a cool drink of encouraging and affirming words, sounds that comes from up there.

Paul said our conversations should be “seasoned with salt.” That’s so delightful; our words should create a magnificent stew. How many tasteless conversations have you endured? How many over-salted exchanges have you pushed away? We don’t need much “spice,” just a little salt to awaken the natural flavors. Not just for the one speaking, but for each participant in the conversation. Gracious communication does that.

And we can do that without regard for what politics, religion, culture, or other energy centers insist we speak about. We don’t have to react, dig in, fight, stand up and be counted, or anything else about what “they” say. Just speak in your own words, in your own voice.  

[1] The Cluetrain Manifesto, Copyright © 1999 Levine, Locke, Searls & Weinberger. https://cluetrain.com

[2] Colossians 4:6 taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright© 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™. Used by permission of Zondervan.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Humans are carriers. We carry germs, car keys, dirty dishes, and other things. But sometimes we also leave essential things in the atmosphere. 

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Humans are carriers. We carry germs, car keys, dirty dishes, and other things. But sometimes we also leave essential things in the atmosphere. 

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

One of the greatest lines in history—six one-syllable words—comes from the old hymn, Amazing Grace: “Twas blind, but now I see.” That so often inscribes the summation of an act, a relationship, a failure, even a reach for the good.

On October 30, 2007, a doctor dropped a diagnosis of cancer on Joanne, my wife. Over the following five months, we lived in a shadowland of sirens screaming through the night, conflicting reports, confusing options, and continuous testing. Her doctor grew increasingly pessimistic. In his darkest pronouncement, he suggested it may be time for “palliative care.”

In the early morning hours of March 6, 2008, I thought Joanne was dying. After a hard night, including another trip to the ER, and her increasingly gray pallor, the swirling dark waters pulled me under. The searing numbness of imminent loss broke something inside. It surely seemed like The End.

The Terrible Tour

Then, throughout the pre-dawn darkness, God ignored my emotions as He pulled me through our house in a guided tour of my royal Edness. We stopped at several “scenic overviews” so He could point out the severity of my blindness.

The first stop took me to her office, where I stared at the large cork board of her pen pal photos. Forty women Joanne wrote to, prayed for, and encouraged in phone calls. I had never understood her “wasted time” on people she didn’t really know. But in that moment, I faced my visual impairment about her. I felt shame as I saw the pure heart that compelled her to reach out to hurting people.

As the tour continued, I saw the box of neatly organized sheets of stickers on her desk. Joanne had long carried a giggling joy for brightly colored little adhesive stickers—cats and candy canes, flowers and frogs, bicycles and butterflies. She splashed them bountifully across letters, greeting cards, calendars, and scrapbooks.

I saw the money she spent for the stickers. But standing there, I could only see the small spirit that turned such delightful colors of Joanne into a problem.

The next scenic overview was our closet, where my fingers brushed the silks, cottons, leathers, and linens which adorned this fine lady. My throat burned as her fragrance rose from the fabrics. I was ashamed to remember how I had questioned the money she spent on clothes. A question passed before my eyes: “What can you afford for her funeral dress?”

The Higher View

Joanne and I have had a long and wonderful marriage. Ask anyone. But, throughout that awful morning, I had to deal with a higher standard of measurement—one that didn’t come from our family, friends, or culture.

As the tour finally came to an end, ancient words from Job became my own: “I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said...”[1]

It all came down to one of the great human mysteries. Why do we not see people as they really are until they draw near death? How can our view of loved ones dare to withhold blessing until … what? Why is the jury always out, even for those great treasures, like our spouses and children, whom God deposited in our lives?

Apparently, we need new eyes.

On April 2, 2008, Joanne’s surgeon removed a softball-sized mass. He said it was the largest non-cancerous tumor he had ever seen. Our long journey was over. We had passed through the valley of the shadow of death, that cold midnight ride of low-hanging branches and eerie shrieks from the forest.

We came out of it with Joanne’s good health and a larger future. But I came out of it with more than that. A severe mercy gave me the gift of seeing my wife—and myself—with new eyes.

[1] Job 42:5-6 taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW LIVING TRANSLATION, Copyright© 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

One of the greatest lines in history—six one-syllable words—comes from the old hymn, Amazing Grace: “Twas blind, but now I see.” That so often inscribes the summation of an act, a relationship, a failure, even a reach for the good.

On October 30, 2007, a doctor dropped a diagnosis of cancer on Joanne, my wife. Over the following five months, we lived in a shadowland of sirens screaming through the night, conflicting reports, confusing options, and continuous testing. Her doctor grew increasingly pessimistic. In his darkest pronouncement, he suggested it may be time for “palliative care.”

In the early morning hours of March 6, 2008, I thought Joanne was dying. After a hard night, including another trip to the ER, and her increasingly gray pallor, the swirling dark waters pulled me under. The searing numbness of imminent loss broke something inside. It surely seemed like The End.

The Terrible Tour

Then, throughout the pre-dawn darkness, God ignored my emotions as He pulled me through our house in a guided tour of my royal Edness. We stopped at several “scenic overviews” so He could point out the severity of my blindness.

The first stop took me to her office, where I stared at the large cork board of her pen pal photos. Forty women Joanne wrote to, prayed for, and encouraged in phone calls. I had never understood her “wasted time” on people she didn’t really know. But in that moment, I faced my visual impairment about her. I felt shame as I saw the pure heart that compelled her to reach out to hurting people.

As the tour continued, I saw the box of neatly organized sheets of stickers on her desk. Joanne had long carried a giggling joy for brightly colored little adhesive stickers—cats and candy canes, flowers and frogs, bicycles and butterflies. She splashed them bountifully across letters, greeting cards, calendars, and scrapbooks.

I saw the money she spent for the stickers. But standing there, I could only see the small spirit that turned such delightful colors of Joanne into a problem.

The next scenic overview was our closet, where my fingers brushed the silks, cottons, leathers, and linens which adorned this fine lady. My throat burned as her fragrance rose from the fabrics. I was ashamed to remember how I had questioned the money she spent on clothes. A question passed before my eyes: “What can you afford for her funeral dress?”

The Higher View

Joanne and I have had a long and wonderful marriage. Ask anyone. But, throughout that awful morning, I had to deal with a higher standard of measurement—one that didn’t come from our family, friends, or culture.

As the tour finally came to an end, ancient words from Job became my own: “I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said...”[1]

It all came down to one of the great human mysteries. Why do we not see people as they really are until they draw near death? How can our view of loved ones dare to withhold blessing until … what? Why is the jury always out, even for those great treasures, like our spouses and children, whom God deposited in our lives?

Apparently, we need new eyes.

On April 2, 2008, Joanne’s surgeon removed a softball-sized mass. He said it was the largest non-cancerous tumor he had ever seen. Our long journey was over. We had passed through the valley of the shadow of death, that cold midnight ride of low-hanging branches and eerie shrieks from the forest.

We came out of it with Joanne’s good health and a larger future. But I came out of it with more than that. A severe mercy gave me the gift of seeing my wife—and myself—with new eyes.

[1] Job 42:5-6 taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW LIVING TRANSLATION, Copyright© 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Listen to the sounds that move you, the things that breathe inspiration into your bones, the voices that splash sound waves against your ear’s cochlea, the Spirit that breathes sound into your soul.

Conversation between father and son:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY35eXTKVLY

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Stand, stable, in every season. Like a tree.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Listen to the sounds that move you, the things that breathe inspiration into your bones, the voices that splash sound waves against your ear’s cochlea, the Spirit that breathes sound into your soul.

Conversation between father and son:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY35eXTKVLY

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

Stand, stable, in every season. Like a tree.

Get full access to The Timberline Letter at timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timberlineletter.substack.com/subscribe