The Falling Action

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"

2012-02-09T19:31:00.006-05:00

The more books I read, the more I realize that I'm a character kind of guy. It seems that people side toward character development in a novel/movie/play or a story development person. Those who focus on characters, like me, don't care much about the plot as long as they can identify, feel emotion with, and care for the main characters of a story. We feel for these protagonists, dynamic characters, and foils more than one who cares about the story. Those who care about the story want just that: a good story. A good plot with twists, turns, and unexpected action. There's nothing wrong with either side. It seems that novels like Gatsby can be polarizing. Character people love it, story lovers tend to hate it.

Luckily, Extremely Loud can appeal to both audiences.

Oskar Schell's father dies when one of the WTC towers collapses on 9/11. We meet Oskar as he's still grieving for his father and finds an envelope that he believes is a clue that his adventure-loving father left for him. What develops over the course of the story is Oskar meeting with elaborate characters, reminiscing about his father, and seeing sides of his family he has never seen before.

We also meet Oskar's grandfather Thomas who, to me, is one of the most interesting and complex characters to whom I've been introduced in a novel. The sorrow and pain that he shares (as well as Oskar) is so realistic that you feel compelled to take part in every emotion he experiences. In what I think is one of the best scenes ever written in a novel, Thomas shares everything he possibly can to his son in a cathartic, cleansing manner that left me with chills.

I highly, highly, highly recommend this book. You laugh, cry, feel every emotion that the characters feel. The whole book will leave you emotionally tied to these characters to the very end.

4.5/5 stars

"Hate List"

2012-01-30T09:55:00.006-05:00

So, I've been doing some serious reading. I think I've read more books in the last 4 months than I have in the last 2 years. Because of this intense overdrive of reading, I decided I'd pass on some reviews of some of my favorites. Here's the first:

I've never gone 180 on a book before.

Either I hate it or not. There's no in between. Either way, I finish it; but, I always tend to have the strongest of opinions, and they never change. This book completely destroyed my hate/love record. Through the 400 pages, I ran a course that started with a Nickelback quote (immediate hate) and ended in a valedictorian speech that perfectly summarized the emotions and feelings this book brought (tear-jerker).

Without giving too much away, the book is written from two separate perspectives. Val, the closest thing we have to a "protagonist" (written in first person) and an external, third-person party represented with news articles, stories, and transcripts. As the cover may give away, Val and her boyfriend, Nick, begin to write down names of students and teachers that wouldn't mind getting rid of. Dubbed the "hate list", Nick takes what Val thinks is a joke and puts it into action then takes his own life. The result is Val having to live with the results and return to the same school for her senior year. The range of emotions felt by Val is so well written and descriptive that I couldn't help becoming attached and rooting for her. Hence the 180 turn.

Hate List is a very realistic, well-written look at the aftermath of a school tragedy. Pick it up. It's an easy read and very enjoyable. Even if Nickelback is used as an epigram.

3.5/5 stars

Wow

2012-01-25T13:54:00.002-05:00

3 months since I last blogged? Seriously? Is "blog" now a verb? Can we consider it a verb? Has it made the official transition of verbing and become one? Is it joining the ranks of such other verbed words like "text" and "facebook?"

Anyway, what have I done in the last 3 months, you may be asking yourself? In list form:

1. Read 30 books (not bragging, just happened).
2. Finished and began another quarter of teaching at my local community college.
3. Went black friday shopping, saw a fight. NBD.
4. Learned what "NBD" stands for.
5. Watched and became infatuated with the show "Downton Abbey." Seriously.
6. Became angry at the makers of Honda motor vehicles. It's as if they sat down and asked one another, "How can we make it nearly impossible to replace the headlight bulbs in our Accord models? Only someone with the smallest of hands should be able to replace them without dismantling the entire front end. Make it so!"
7. Received and then proceeded to beat The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword.
8. Taught an adult bible school class.
9. Pondered if "bible" should be capitalized or not (just now, actually).
10. Realized that I will turn 30 in less than 3 months.
11. Realized that I will turn 30 in less than 2 weeks (also, just now).
12. Watched every episode of Phinneas and Ferb once and every episode of Shaun the Sheep 3,000 times.

So there you go. An exciting 3 months.

Lunchroom Crush (OFF #4)

2011-10-28T08:13:00.002-04:00

“I can’t take my eyes off of her.”

“Who?”
“Her.”

“HER?”

“No, her.”

“Oh. Her.”

“Right.”

"..."

“What?”

“Do you know who she is?”

“No. I’m new, idiot. Remember? This is only my second week here. The only people I know are you and 3 of my teachers. You’re currently my only resource of knowledge concerning people orplaces at this school. For all I know, this school could be a front for an elaborate espionage group whose sole purpose is to undermine and destroy our current system of local government. Plus, if I would have known her name, I wouldn’t have called her “her.” I would have called her Brooke or Emily…I hope hername is Emily. Emilys are always hot..or feisty.”

“It’s not Emily.”

“Oh. But you do know her name.”

“Yep.”

"..."

“What?”

“I’m sorry, maybe you don’t remember how normal back and forth dialog works. What’s her name?”

“Say you’re sorry.”

“…ok none of those words are names. It’s obvious you’re dialog-deficient. Let’s try agai-"

“Say you’re sorry.”

“Why?”

“You called me an idiot.”

“..are we having this conversation right now? Is this actually happening?”

“You know, the espionage society would be interested to...”

“Fine. I’m sorry for calling you an idiot.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“…if I don’t hear some form of a name in the air you release from your lungs through your mouth, and over your tongue in the next 30 seconds, I’m going to..”

“Michael”

“..no, I’m MiCAH. MiCAH we’ve been over this.”

“No, her name is Michael.”

“…I’m sorry, what?”

“No joke. Her name is Michael.”

“Is she…”

“Feisty?”

“No..is she..100%”

“Grade A Beef?”

“No! Is she, you know, all…genderly…original?”

“I now hate this conversation. And I’ve lost my appetite.”

“I’m serious!”

“Yes, she’s female.”

“Good…I think..so, like, is she.”

“Dude, she’s a chick.”

The Warmth (OFF #3)

2011-10-24T21:57:00.002-04:00

The streetlights reflect off of the glistening cobblestone. Passing cars cut through the driving rain. The cold begins to invade the wet clothes that were once a warm protection and bite at his wet skin.

He hasn’t noticed. He can’t feel anything. This corpse resemblance has pervaded his core. His soul.

He’s not what he once was. Foreign footsteps on a familiar sidewalk.

The light turns red. Just ahead, their favorite coffee shop’s sign bathes the damp, dark sidewalk in neon blues and yellows. For a second, he recalls their first date, their first kiss, their first serious talk, their first favorite song, their first dance…

The light turns green, then the thoughts vanish. He pulls the collar of his jacket closer to him as he enters the crosswalk. The plastic surrounding the bouquet of flowers in his right hand crinkles and cracks like the firecrackers they released on that warm July evening. As he reaches the other sidewalk, the bouquet tumbles awkwardly out of his hand and onto the wet sidewalk. The water moves away on impact, as if repulsed. With a sigh, he bends down to pick them up and notices the petals spilled out on the cross walk. He looks further down and notices that they’ve been dropping since he left her apartment. A breadcrumb trail of rose petals; leading back to a place and time he resents most. She awkwardly searches for her keys in the dark. He awkwardly finds her neck. Squeezes. Feels the warmth leave his body as hers goes limp. All he wanted was to give her flowers. She didn’t have to reject him.

The phrase still echoes in his ear as he walks into his favorite coffee shop. He sees another brunette in the corner. The thoughts and the warmth begin again.

The Witching Hour (OFF #2)

2011-10-14T11:18:00.002-04:00

The guests whirl and twirl around her in a thrilling blur of colorful dresses and flowers. Her heart is racing. Every nerve of her body is in overdrive. The music from violins fills every gap and crevice, dodges dukes and lords, and rests in her ears. She looks up at him. The prince. Her prince. The object of her affection. And now, it seems, the object of his. She is enamored with his eyes, his smile, everything about him.

The air changes. She realizes the guests are moving away from them. These people of higher rank and status than her are giving her room. Showing her respect and honor that she has never received. She looks back up at her prince. He looks slightly surprised as well, then finds her eyes and smiles.

“Let’s take advantage of this,” he says.

In a blurring motion, he grabs and twirls her away from him, then pulls her back again. Their twirls and dips become more fluid as her confidence grows with him. She has dreamt of this moment, enacted these moves before, but only with mops and brooms. But now, she’s royalty. Together with him. A princess with her prince. Their dancing ends with another dramatic dip, and the crowd cheers. The music changes, then slows. Her prince pulls her closer. Her head on his chest. His heartbeat in her ears. A constant comfort. She feels finally at peace. She doesn’t want to move from this place. She never wants this moment to end.

Suddenly, she hears her fear. The chimes. Breaking the rhythm of his heartbeat. The caustic chimes. This is ending. First chime..or is it second. Midnight. She pulls closer. Third. Not wanting this to end, she pulls him closer. Drowning out the chimes with his heart. Keeping reality away.

(inspired by the beautiful poet, Sylvia Plath and her poem, Cinderella, found here)

The Struggle (OFF)

2011-10-11T14:50:00.001-04:00

“Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This happened every day. The same routine, the same two parties, an epic battle of wills. When will it end? One party hoped soon. He grew tired of the never-ending struggle. He kicked himself for ever starting this. It’s your fault, he reminded himself. You’re the instigator. Now he would have to experience this every day.

“Show me!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t have it!”

“Yes, you do!”

At this point, he knew what he must do. This was only the beginning; he knew if he kept going, voices would raise. It may bring unnecessary attention. They’d been down that road far too often.

The other party, his foil, smiled the whole time. She seemed to enjoy the constant asking, no, the constant demanding, that she put on her foe. Every day. Sometimes twice in one day.
After all, it was his fault.

“Show me!” Smile.

“I don’t have it!”

The stress was becoming too much for him. His arms out stretched. One hand in a fist. The other, palm open as if begging for a hand out. Or relief. His thoughts shrieked in his head. You did this. You did this.

“Show me!”

This time, her voice was a cream; shrill like fingernails going south on a chalk board.
His ears loosed an unnatural groan as the scream reverberated his ear drums. This had gone on long enough.

“Fine.”

The little girl jumped and danced. He slowly opened it, revealing the quarter hidden in the crooks of his palm. She grabbed it with a smile and chuckle.
She paused..then shoved it back to the seated man in front of her.

“Do it again, Daddy! Again!”

The man, with a smile, willed the courage to start the struggle over again.

OFF Year 2!

2011-10-04T12:52:00.002-04:00

So, Flash Fiction is awesome. You get 300 words to write a complete story. It's even better if the ending has a twist. But you don't have to do that. I don't know if you like doing twist endings or not.

What I DO know is that it's October, so it's time to go OFF again!

October Flash Fiction is upon us. Here are the rules:

1. You get 300 words.
2. A story is due every Friday.
3. You leave a comment after this post if you want in. Post a link to your blog, so we can read your stuff!

It was a TON of fun last year. If you want to read some of my stuff, click the flash fiction link above. I personally love doing them. They're quick, you can be super creative, and you can be done in no time! I only wish I could come up with other creative titles for the other 11 months!

So, get to thinking! Your first story is due Friday!

Oh and don't worry about a twist ending, M. Night Shyamalan. Just write a good story.

2011-09-02T20:42:00.000-04:00

The new and improved Blogspot has a new feature that tracks search results and how people got to your site.

Seeing as how I picked a literary term as my title and have reviewed books like The Book Thief, it's amazing to see how people have googled "The falling action book thief" hoping to get the answer to tomorrow's test question. Instead, they get my blog.

Hilarious. And unfortunate. In case you're wondering, people who found this blog instead of a literary criticism site, the falling action in The Book Thief is when Liesel surveys the neighborhood after the bombing. Or when the pilot crashes and Liesel gives him her bear before he dies.

Good luck tomorrow on that quiz. If they ask if you if Death or Liesel is the protagonist, I'd go with Liesel. Death is the narrator that just happens to be part of the action but not in charge of the action.

Oh man that's a good book.

Hero Mode

2011-07-25T10:46:00.004-04:00

I have to post this because it just happened, and it makes me thankful.

I'm glad God gives parents "Hero Mode."

Case in point: This morning, The Firstborn decided that she would rather play in her room than hang out with her dad and watch Dora, Shaun the Sheep, or Diego (her choice). I decide to just hang out in my room down the hall, get on the laptop, send some emails, and listen to her on the monitor. As I'm typing an email to the wife (who has a blog, by the way) about the triumphs and growing-up-tity of our almost 3 year old, I hear what sounds like choking on the monitor.

Enter: Hero Mode.

If you're not familiar with Hero Mode, I'll give you a quick explanation: Hero Mode is when you're faced with a crisis involving one of your children that needs rescuing. When Hero Mode kicks in, so does the adrenaline. You assess the situation, determine between multiple scenarios to remedy the situation, and decide on a plan to enact this scenario. A byproduct of Hero Mode, and my favorite part, is that you no longer become squeamish at the sight of anything that would make a normal person vomit. If you know me, you know that I'm so weak when it comes to things like that. The sight of my OWN blood causes me to pass out, let alone someone else's.

Going back to our story, I hear choking noises. Immediately, I drop what I'm doing and with cheetah-like reflexes (did I mention the agility? Agility's a part of it too), I dodge laundry baskets, turn corners like an olympic sprinter, and take off toward The Firstborn's room. While dodging the dog, my mind starts kicking in with how I can remedy the situation. If I were to visualize, it would look like this:

chokingchokinggogomustdecidehowtofixcoughing?inhaling?yes.heimlech.waitistheheimlechbanned?IthoughtIreadsomewhereitwasbanned.Whataboutjustapatontheback?Isthateffectiveenough?Maybemaybenot.Mustrememberatowelincaseshethrowsup.Is#2stillasleep?WheresmyphoneincaseIneedtocall911?Remembernottosoundpanickyonthephone.ShouldI soundpanicky?Willthatmakethesquadgofaster?Wouldthatputmeuphigherontheprioritylist?Isit911protocoltobumpapersonuptheprioritylistiftheyrepanicky?Wait.Whocalls911andisnotpanicky?Isntthataprerequisitefor911?Panic?Oksoheimlech?Maybe.

All that in the span of 3 seconds. So I finally turn the corner to her room ready to dislodge whatever is in my Firstborn's windpipe when she meets me outside of her room. With a slide whistle. Making choking sounds.

Now, picture the image of a very large bear, sweating, gasping, heart beating way faster than it should, staring at a 3 year old on the other end of the hallway, smiling and laughing not only because her dad is panting and looks like he's prepared to fight the Kaiser, but because she's making weird noises with a toy.

But still, I'm thankful for Hero Mode. Even if it kicks in during slide whistle sounds.

Struggle

2011-06-08T18:24:00.002-04:00

I've decided that 500 word flash fiction is nuts. I need more or less. With that, here's this.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He searches for another twig to strip of its leaves as he sits under the shade tree.

He’s waiting for his brother. And an army. And vengeance is on their minds.

This is the same brother that he had fought since birth, clutching his heel on the way out of the womb.

This is the same brother from whom he stole the first-born inheritance.

But now, he regretted what he did.

He looked up to the heavens, guilt-stricken and panicking. He remembered that awe-inspiring vision he had when he was first on the run.

The heavens split open. Angelic beings standing on a staircase reaching up to a voice. A voice like he had never heard, promising him blessing.

“Well? Where is it?” he cried. “Where’s my blessing?”

The sun began to set. He watched as more and more hid behind the mountains.

“Come on! Give me something!”

Just then, something seemed to flash and come out of the sun. It looked like an animal at first, a strong steed, running—no, charging—right toward him. A person! Wait. It couldn’t be a person; it was moving too fast and..almost floating. It was coming straight at him. Quickly. In one moment, it was at the horizon. Now, it was at the base of the hill. It looked angry. Then he realized what it was. He had seen one of them before in his vision.

An angel. And it didn’t seem like it wanted to talk.

The angel tackled him, forced him to the ground. He used the angel’s momentum and swung him over his head. They both scrambled to their feet. The angel’s eyes glowed like fire. It was the oddest thing he had ever seen. It was as if it fully had a body but fully didn’t at the same time.

Is this what my brother sent? He thought.

The angel charged at him. They both wrestled like this, back and forth, through the night. His strength began to wane, but the angel never lost an inch. Suddenly, he heard a voice.

“Release me”

He thought it came from the being, but its mouth never moved. Actually, it didn’t seem to have a mouth. The voice sounded like it came from within his head. The angel’s eyes burned into his.

Suddenly, he felt a pain in his hip, he felt his leg give out, but he never let go. The angel never let go either. He could have very easily dropped him and finished him off, but he never let go.

“Release me!”

“I won’t. Not until you bless me.”

“What is your name?”

“Jacob.”

“You are no longer called that name, but by the name Israel, for you have struggled with God and man.”

With that, the angel disappeared. He got up to walk, but found he could only walk with a limp. An eternal reminder of the struggle he faced here. He left and called this place Peniel, because he faced God.

And his life was spared.

Waist-deep

2011-05-23T18:30:00.003-04:00

We are depraved.

Newsflash, I know. But when you realize that the only way that you become closer to God or your role as a father or your family is through tragedy, you begin to remember the "T" in TULIP again.

Last weekend, a student of mine at the school where I am currently doing a long-term sub placement passed away, and attached to her death was the term "suicide." I noticed something right off the bat after our staff meeting this morning: When you hear the word "suicide", especially when it comes to a student, it can't be taken lightly. It's almost like it's been rubber-stamped in red ink all over the place; on every page, every face that you see. Not to throw another image out there, but it's like the proverbial elephant: It's something that everyone sees, but no one wants to talk about--and rightly so. Just a week before, a girl at a neighboring high school did the same thing. It's like a plague (man, I'm full of the similes and metaphors tonight). If not contained, it could easily spread.

So, here I am 3.5 hours later thinking about this day and wondering how ridiculously foolish I am. I spent all day as a pillar, as salt, and as light to these kids who desperately need someone to lean on. Yet I realize that, like these kids, I only really rely on someone stronger or wiser or whatever-er when trials and tragedies come, and when they do come, we pervert that relationship and almost expect that person to be there.

I'm not saying my students are evil. No wait. In a sense, I am. But I'm evil too. I'm just as filthy, depraved, waist-deep in sin like they are--in dire need of the Father to pluck me out. To listen. To comfort. Yet, I don't rely on or call for help at any other time.

How foolish, depraved, and self-focused is that?

I'm telling God, "I got this" when life is going easy, but I come running back with my tail between my legs when tragedy strikes. God doesn't say, "I will never leave you nor forsake you when the going gets tough." There's no asterisk with stipulations attached. He's with us all the time. Even when life is good.

We categorize our relationship with God too often. We thank God for the good times and only ask for help when we need something. In reality, we need to not view God as a fast-food service..I'll let that one sink in. Got it? Good. And come to him with all prayer and supplication.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Back to waiting another 3 months and change to post again.

A Post just to Post

2011-01-13T21:11:00.002-05:00

I've got something big planned for this year. I'm still unclear as to whether or not I should do it. It all boils down to whether or not I can stay consistent or determined enough to go through with it. i'm praying and pondering over it. It may show up here eventually, might not. I'll keep you posted.

Hey! My birthday is less than a month away. How crazy is that? I'll be 29. Yes, I look like I'm 39. Yes, I get that all the time. Yes, I'm balding. No, it's not genetic. No, I don't know how I went bald. Anything else? Sorry, I don't mean to be short with you. I was just trying to be funny. No, you're right; it wasn't funny. Look, I said I was sorry. Really? You're de-friending me because of this? Whatever. I don't need you.

Wait..where am I?

Best of 2010

2010-12-16T20:19:00.012-05:00

Like every other pointless media outlet or electronic source of information, I'll be sharing my list of my favorite events/items/things that happened this year.

Why?

Because I feel it's very important that everyone knows what I think about everything.

Plus, my posts have been pretty depressing recently. This should brighten things up. Hopefully.

I'm taking Kat's categories and adding my own responses. Unbeknownst to her, she created a great template.

Media

Movie: Has to be Inception. What a great original screenplay for once. Sure it had Leonardo DimyvoiceisreallywhinyeventhoughIamanadultCaprio in it, but it was still good. Close second would be Iron Man 2. Nothing but destruction and explosion in that one. Good stuff.

Television/drama: Fringe. It's the only show we watch on a weekly basis since the DVR was sacrificed financially. We never know when anything else is on.

Television/comedy: Whatever we find on Netflix. We watched Arrested Development for a while, but never watched it past 4 episodes. Two kids with late bedtimes and TV watching often times don't work together.

Music/Secular: I became a big fan of Muse this year. As well as The Dead Weather. Their song "Hang You From The Heavens" is incredibly good. When Jack White is involved, musically amazing things happen.

Music/Sacred: The Classic Crime's "Silver Cord" album, although a 2008 release, is really good. Sent by Ravens' "Our Graceful Words." Sent by Ravens is one of those bands that hearkens back to the 90s Christian Rock era but musically updated. Their lyrics are really strong. Plus, their band name actually comes from the Bible! Whodathunkit? Finally, Third Day's "Lift". That's a good album. Thanks, Third Day, for going towards the light of good music again. And finally, Lincoln Brewster's "Today Is The Day".

Band: Saw Family Force 5 in concert 2 weeks ago. That skyrocketed them to #1 this year.

Book/Fiction:

Because I'm an English teacher, it is necessary that I share with you the best books I've read this year.

I Am The Cheese by Robert Cormier. I like this book so much that I taught it to my 10th grade students this semester.

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. This just in: C.S. Lewis is a good writer.

The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. Best YA Fiction I read this year. Good stuff. Hard to put down.

Book/Non Fiction: When Life Is Hard (James MacDonald) My favorite speaker while I attended Cedarville. Just a phenomenal, straight-forward preacher of God's word. Doesn't pull punches. This book is all about trials and why they are in the Christian's life. I'm only halfway through it, but I know it's going to be the best NF I've read this year.

Honorable Mention: Fame is Infamy (Andrew Schwab)

Website: Inception Button... Seriously. Click on it. I used it in class to illustrate when a major plot device would occur while we read.

Food/Restaurants:

Restaurant: Lindey's in Columbus is one awesome restaurant. Order the tournedos of beef, then ask your server to take a bad picture of you.

Recipe:

Chili Coke Roast

1 beef roast, 3-4 lbs.
1 can Coca-Cola
1 package onion soup mix
1 bottle chili sauce

Directions:

1. Place all ingredients in crock-pot and cook for 7-10 hours depending on size of roast.
2. The meat will flake apart when done. Serve over mashed potatoes.

And you MUST serve it over mashed potatoes. Preferably over Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes. Oh, brother.

Spice: I don't know my spices like I should. I have no idea what tastes good in what...I'm such a knowledgable cook.
Beverage: Chick-fil-A's sweet tea

Sayings and Expressions:
"Teachered"

"It's cats!"

"Ehh"

Date (as in like, boy-girl date, not calendar date):
Tie: Anniversary date or Lindey's and Wicked.

Purchase:
The 360 is pretty cool, and I guess you could say I purchased my masters degree..indirectly.

Store:
Target. I go there 4 times a week.

Surprise:
NOT getting hired full-time after my school claimed to have such an incredible job placement.

Child Quote:

A (while E has the kids' illustrated Bible on her lap): "No, E! Don't hit da'Bible!

Bible Verse:
Hebrews slayed me this year:

"For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself. For the law appoints men in their weakness as high priests, but the word of the oath, which came later than the law, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever." (Hebrews 7:26-28)

Lesson Learned: That God never leaves; He never abandons His children. Even when I was rejected time after time for teaching jobs, He never left. He has a plan. I will probably never understand why I wasn't hired right out of grad school, but I know God has a purpose and plan. With #2 being born this year, we thought for sure that God would provide for us and meet our needs financially through a job in the Fall. That never happened, and even when we panicked and cried, when we thought ends would not meet, God always provided for us. We need nothing. It's an amazing feeling.

And finally, photo of the year.

One of my proudest moments.

Decor (FF)

2010-12-14T11:20:00.005-05:00

I hate waiting rooms, he thinks to himself.

He looks down at his phone again, wishing that his wife would call him back. He hasn’t been able to get a hold of anybody. He needs to speak with someone, anyone right now.

The last 15 minutes have been a blur. He went from happiness to confusion, sorrow, anger, back to confusion and then sadness before he came down here. He didn’t want to be up there anymore. The room was deceptive. It was supposed to be a nice room where nothing could go wrong. Instead, it was a clever disguise. The nice decorations and architecture weren’t there for aesthetics; hospitals never decorate that way. They were there to provide distractions for those who come there seeking it, for those who don’t want to think about what will happen next. He had to get out of there.

Now, he’s in another waiting room. This one’s empty. Christmas decorations hang from hooks in the ceiling. Garland adorns the walls. Lights trim the edge of the receptionist’s desk as one of the numerous renditions of “Jingle Bells” plays lightly throughout the room.

Vain attempts, he thinks, vain attempts.

The waiting room doors open. An elderly man is pushing his wife in the wheelchair. The numerous blankets covering her make her look more like a laundry basket than an elderly woman.

The door closes, and the last bit of cold night air pushes through the room.

“Come on; please call,” he whispers and looks at the cell phone in his shaking hand. As if on command, the phone finally vibrates.

“Hey.”
“Hey, I’m on my way.”
“Um,” the words get stuck in his throat. It’s something he has never said, let alone thought of before. The words seem foreign to him.

“They found cancer.”

4 years ago this month, mom went in for a hysterectomy when they found a few cancer cells. She would die from complications related to that cancer 9 months later. To me, this was another step on the path that my wife and I had started a few months previous. Looking back, I can see how this path prepared us for later in our lives. It's amazing how all of these trials are not there to hurt us, but to test us and make us stronger.

Mash play on that jambox

2010-12-13T21:18:00.002-05:00

I'm in a really really mellow music mood. These seem to be the only songs that fit my fancy right now. I highly recommend them if you find yourself in a similar mood sometime in the near future. Or you can always listen to them if you're in a really happy mood and would rather take yourself out of that mood. Whatevs.

1. Copeland - Control Freak (actually, just about any Copeland song will fit under the mellow music umbrella)

2. Jars of Clay - Safe To Land

3. Fiction Family - Out Of Order

4. dc Talk - Consume Me

5. Burlap to Cashmere - Eileen's Song

6. Incubus - Mexico

7. Paul Colman Trio - Killing Tree

8. The Beatles - Blackbird

9. Chasing Furies - I Surrender

10. David Gray - My Oh My

11. Justin Timberlake - Cry Me A River (why you hatin'?)

12. Radiohead - Like Spinning Plates (ironically, this song also terrifies me, so it also breaks me out of my mellow mood and into one of spiraling fear. Radiohead. Crazytown.)

13. Switchfoot - Happy Is A Yuppie Word

14. Further Seems Forever - Light Up Ahead

So, there's 14 good ones. They'll mellow you out. You'll feel oddly relaxed, yet you'll want to do something immediately to de-mellow yourself.

I did this.

See? Full circle.

Not really.

Important lessons (Friday way-over-the-accepted-limit Flash Fiction)

2010-12-10T22:25:00.004-05:00

Even the most rewarding task has its frustrations. That’s his thought as he watches his last student leave. He loves this job, but sometimes the late nights catch up to you. Sometimes he wishes the whole thing never existed and his original career would have worked out.

He grabs his coat and searches for his keys. He rummages through the many different bags, folders, and papers until he finally finds them. In his pants pocket. Always the place you’re supposed to look first, he tells himself.

As he collects his things and locks up, he’s reminded of the list he made yesterday. While writing out “important lessons,” he felt inspired to write another list made up of the life lessons he had learned in his brief 26 years of life. As he wrote this list alone in his borrowed room filled with posters of different types of landscaping and mulch, he recalled where life had already taken him, even to this point in his life. He knows that this is not where he wanted to be, but he’s here for a reason. The items on this list reflect the different hills and valleys that have marked his journey. In one case, he recalled losing a parent to cancer. The result of this devastating event, however, was not sorrow, but joy. He wrote, “Death is not the end,” for he knew that he would see her again. Before long, he had an entire page filled with life lessons; everything from “God is love” to “When in doubt, check your pockets” made the list. He even penned his previous thought about hardships in the most rewarding task. He took the list, folded it, and put it in his coat pocket.

As he gets out of the car, the trip a blur because of his thoughts, he checks his coat to make sure the list is there. Sure enough, it’s still safe. He is reminded again of why he really made the list. One of the reasons opens the door to his house, jumps up and down and shouts “Daddy!” He realizes when he made this list that his task is not to live life for himself, but to live life for others. To teach not just his students, but also those in his house. To teach them love, respect, and selflessness. To teach them these important life lessons so that when life throws them hills and valleys, they can add on to his growing list.

Contagion

2010-12-10T11:37:00.004-05:00

Writer's Block must be going around, because much like my friend, I'm suffering from lack of writing. I've started 4 different flash fiction stories, and none of them have turned into anything. Maybe inspiration will hit me this weekend.

Delving into a novel

2010-11-28T22:24:00.002-05:00

[another excerpt...this is part of my ongoing quest to finish a YA novel. The first excerpt is here]

"Do you have the tickets?"

I knew I had the tickets. I had already checked fifteen times myself, but I shoved my hand into my jean pocket anyway to show that I was a responsible individual. Plus, I wanted to respect Mike and do what he said. Because that's important to me, although unnecessary.

"Yeah, they're in here. Good thing I checked 'cause I..."

There was no point in finishing the sentence. Mike was already walking away from me. I was going to lie anyway and tell him I almost forgot them. I never forget anything, which sucks sometimes. I followed Mike as he jumped into the driver's side of his car. "His" car was kind of a stretch. His family owned--and I'm going to ballpark this--around 230 Oldsmobiles, and all of them were circa 1989. Their mile-long driveway looked like a used car lot. I had a seat in the blue version of the car and shut the door. The blue upholstered seats were extremely cushy and the whole car had a mixed aroma of Vanilla car freshener and gasoline.

Mike started the car (ahh...the throaty roar of an Olds) and the blue clock display flickered on. Before long, we had pulled out of the driveway and were on the way to Mike's friend, Mitch's house to pick him up and their other friend, Brooke. Mike sat silent. So did I. I hate small talk; always have. But, I hate silence anymore; so, I broke it.

"So, who are we meeting again?" I knew who they were. I just didn't want to give off the impression of being too intelligent.
"Hmm? Oh..uh..Mitch and Brooke."

OK I have to admit: I was kind of expecting more here. I kinda wanted Mike to elaborate, to tell me more about them, but I didn't want to, like..ask that. I guess. Weird, right? Like, how is Mike supposed to know that I want to know everything about Mitch and Brooke? Were they dating? Brother and sister? Was Brooke dating anyone? How old was she? Was she hot?

Yes, guys think this way. Especially 16 year old guys. Get used to it.

Anyway, back to me and Mike in the car. I got nothing, so I had to ask again. But, again, I have one of my dilemmas. I don't want to make it uncomfortable, and to me, uncomfortable means asking any sort of question that would reveal any sort of intention that I have about knowing any more about Mike's friends. I don't know why exactly I have this inclination to make sure that each question is perfectly placed in a manner that is fitting for my passive fact-finding agenda, but I do. So, in the next few seconds after Mike answered my first question, I had attempted to prevent entering into another moment of awkward silence--which I hated--and at the same time, attempt to ask another question that would successfully fulfill my desire for more information. The entire fact-finding mission as well as my status as Mike's friend and possibility of being friends with Mike's other friends--maybe even dating Brooke whom I still knew nothing about--was riding on these next few seconds. I had to nail what happened next. Had to.

The result was:

"Cool."

I hate myself.

Achievement (Friday Flash Fiction)

2010-11-05T12:46:00.001-04:00

“It’s not hard,” said the father helping his son take aim.

“It’s just a matter of putting the bead on the neck, taking a deep breath, and slowly squeezing the trigger. Don’t jerk it because you’ll miss.”

The son was concentrating now. Both of them were silent. The forest, in turn, obliged the silence. Only a squirrel could be heard climbing up a nearby pine’s trunk; the shaken snow from the branches fell to the ground in slow motion like a white ghost descending.

Holding his breath, the son put the bead of the rifle to the neck of his target. The rifle nestled in the crook of his arm. The father looked on proud. He had waited for this day. Finally, his oldest will learn a skill that he himself learned at this age. Dreams of his son following in his old man’s footsteps danced in his head.

The son’s finger reached for the trigger. His target hadn’t moved. It still stood in the snow completely oblivious to its two observers.

The son intently looked once more fearing what would happen if he would miss. He closed his eyes. The target still lay motionless. The father realized he had been holding his breath in anticipation. The son began to slowly squeeze.

With report, the target keeled over. It didn’t even see it coming. Relieved, the son put the gun on the ground.

“Good job, son!” said the father. The son was relieved.

“You’ll be a world class sniper like your father before you know it! Now, go help your mother with the dishes.”

The son, grinning, gives his dad one last hug and gets off the couch. The father picks up the plastic gun and points it at the screen, waiting for the next wave of invading aliens.

A few notes...

2010-10-27T19:31:00.003-04:00

- October Flash Fiction was a humongous success. It was great to jump start the creative juices! Thanks to Kathy, Mandy, and Caleb for participating! I think some of us are going to continue the tradition every Friday.

- I'm currently in the middle of a long-term sub position as a PE teacher. One of the many perks is that whatever I wear to teach in is also what I can wear to lounge in when I get home. Warmups, FTW!

- Started "I Am The Cheese" with my English 10 class. That book is one of the greatest. One. Of. The. Greatest.

- I gotta be honest. I love being a teacher, but I hate the unions.

- I haven't been excited about a new Third Day album in about 8 years, but their newest sounds so good that I may just buy it. It's a hearkening back to old Third day before they went all country, feel-good, and...gross.

- Finally, my sister, who is awesome, has started her own blog, which is awesome. You can find it here. Welcome her to the blogging world!

Destination (OFF #7)

2010-10-25T14:45:00.001-04:00

I glance outside the window. The sun is nearly setting. The Golden Hour, when the Earth and Sun are in perfect harmony. When the shadows are at the their longest and the colors their brightest.

This is how it ends. Under covers, surrounded by family and friends. My wife takes my hand, rubs it softly. My children and their oldest children whisper their goodbyes. Tears fill some eyes, but mostly grins and smiles. They feel that same confidence that I do.

I’m going home.

My mind drifts back through my life. Seeing my oldest daughter for the first time, burying my mother, seeing my beautiful bride, holding my first grandchild. All of these images come back and remind me of one thing: To remind myself that my life had purpose. That my Creator put these moments in my life to bring Him glory. To show that He is faithful.

I look out the window again and see something I hadn’t noticed before. The previously clear skies have now been replaced with something else. No, someone else. More than one. Flying. And they’re coming closer. The sky opens. I smile. I can hear my wife. Her voice seems distant, inquisitive. I turn and look at her again. Her look of confusion melts into a smile. She realizes what I see. I hear her distant voice once more, wishing me goodbye and a promise to see each other again.

Then, it is replaced with another hand. I open my eyes. I’m standing on the shore of a crystal sea. The hand holding mine is pierced. I look up into the face of the One who died and became alive again for me. In the distance, I see all those I have lost, and in an instant, all those I left behind.

Home.

Author's note: People always wonder what it will be like to shuffle off this mortal coil. Here's how I hope I go. By the way, thanks for reading! This week was awesome!!

- J

Mike and Mary (OFF #6)

2010-10-23T11:34:00.003-04:00

The neighborhood is busy today. Kids play in the streets; their parents work diligently in their yards. He loves this neighborhood. It’s great to see how the kids have grown up. Mike's run is reaching its end; his house welcomes him at the end of the street. He reaches for the gnome statue beside the door on the front porch and finds the key.

Mike feels a sense of relaxation as he steps in, takes off his shoes, and walks toward the kitchen. The house’s walls are covered with framed shots of himself and Mary, his wife. Reaching the fridge, he pulls a bottle of water. He checks the time. 15 minutes. Plenty of time.

Mike sits down on the couch and turns on the TV. He enjoys his water and gets caught up on the local news. The anchor is a typical male news anchor with plastic hair. He checks his watch again. 5 minutes. Better get moving.

Mike quickly finishes his water and throws the bottle into recycling. Mary will be pleased that he remembered to recycle for once. He writes Mary a quick note, slips on his shoes, and runs out the door.

Mary arrives home from grocery shopping. She takes baby Carly out of the car seat and places her in the play-pen inside the house. As Mary heads back outside to start bringing in the groceries, she hesitates. Something’s not right. Shrugging it off, she runs out and grabs the first bag of groceries. As she steps back into the house, she notices a note on the counter. As she reads it, she instinctively drops the bag. A jar shatters. Its contents ooze out of the bag. Mary unwillingly takes the note in her trembling hand just to read it once more.

I FOUND YOU.

Oops (OFF #5)

2010-10-22T15:56:00.001-04:00

“Take this.”

“What is it?”

“Are you serious?”

“What? I can’t see! It’s pitch black out here.”

“It’s a gun.”

“WHHAAA! Why did you give me a gun?”

“Why did you drop it?”

“WHYDIDYOU--”

“Calm down. I gave you a gun because you may need it.”

“Need it? For what? Zombie apocalypse?”

“…”

“Shut Up. What happened?”

“I may have done something.”

“Did you cause a zombie apocalypse?”

“Not directly. I was at work today, and I had to go into the room where we keep the chemicals. Well, one thing lead to another, and Jerry decides he wants to play the ‘throw a drink in my face like I just used a really bad pickup line’ game. And, of course, I’m down –I mean, come on…great game, right? Anyway, instead of picking up the water, I pick up the chemical that, after tests, early results have shown cause skin degradation as well as an appetite for human flesh.”

“…”

“And threw that in Jerry’s face.”

“…so how is that not directly your fault?”

“Jerry is in charge of labeling the chemicals. It wasn’t labeled with an orange zombie label. It’s ironic, if you think about it. Jerry doesn’t label the chemical that turns him into the very thing the label is trying to protect against. Anyway, Jerry screams, starts to freak out, I’m all like ‘I’m sorry’ but he’s not listening. So, I trap him in the air lock chamber.”

“Then the problem is taken care of, right? He’s in the chamber.”

“Yes and no.”

“I’ve never hated you more than I do right now.”

“Jerry was in there for a while, yes, but I only hit the temporary air lock button. It wasn’t labeled correctly. Again, Jerry’s fault. Once again, ironic.”

“That’s not ironic.”

“You’re not ironic.”

Accident (OFF #4)

2010-10-21T16:37:00.002-04:00

He trudges slowly through the woods. His footsteps are careful, slow. Every step has been calculated. He peers through the thick trees. The leaves shimmer from the moon. They create a silver blanket covering and cradling fallen branches and trees. He comes to a clearing and listens. In the distance, he hears the roaring like rushing water. It fades out, then back in, then out.

He’s close. He needs to be careful.

He begins his careful voyage again. He’s on a quest to find food and get home.Finally, he comes across the ridge. Ahead, the deafening sound fades in. When it fades out, he makes his move. Dead sprint now. Steps no longer calculated. He breaks through the woods hitting the hard surface that causes pain in his legs. He slips. The surface is wet tonight.

He slips again briefly. As he sets himself, he hears the sound begin to fade in again.

Hurry. Not much time.

His feet move faster. He sees the other side ahead.

Freedom. Home.

The sound gets louder. He sees the familiar bright eyes coming near him.

Hurry.

It gets closer.He begins to panic. His feet slip once more. He turns and sees the eyes as they bear down on him. There’s a deafening screech, a squeal.

Hurry. Almost there. So close. Almo--

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some burns on my arms from the chemicals when the airbag went off. Other from that, we’re ok. I'm shaking, though."

“Did you see it? I didn't."

“No, no I didn’t. It just jumped right out in front of me.”

“Well, you stay here. I’ll get some guys to help drag this thing off the road. He was a big one, huge rack. 10 points, I think.”

“I’ll say. Look at my hood.”

Recollection (OFF #3)

2010-10-20T09:25:00.001-04:00

The gun cocked. Max sat behind the barricade. He could hear their voices outside the room telling him to come out peacefully.

5 days ago, he woke up with what can only be described as severe amnesia. Only recently have the memories come back, but his mind was still like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle: Some pieces are in order, but the majority of them are strewn all over with no sense of direction.

He looks down at his gun. The familiar grip is all too familiar to him.

3 days ago, he remembered some numbers: 38-15-3. After some investigating, he realized it was the combination to a safe he found under his bed. When he opened the case, all that was lying inside was this gun and a note card. All that was on the note card was some scribbled writing. Max couldn’t make out the majority of it, but he did decipher one phrase:

“DON’T LET THEM IN”

1 day ago, Max remembered his family. His wife and his two handsome sons. He remembered little league games and candlelit dinners.

The force outside is trying to get inside. They pound.

30 minutes ago, he remembered what happened to his family. He remembered the man that entered their home and took them from him. He remembered finding his wife and the blood-stained carpet and finding the bodies of his two sons in their bunk beds.

The barricade gives way. Officers, with guns and flashlights drawn, search the room for Max. They find him. They ask him to freeze. Squinting through the light, he searches each of their faces. Gradually, their names return to him. Colleagues. Friends. Coworkers.

30 seconds ago, Max remembered what he did to that man. And to his family. And to his house.

Max tightens his grip.

Flicker

2010-10-19T21:31:00.002-04:00

A submission from a good friend:

The flickering light from a solitary candle illuminated a downcast pair of eyes. The candle’s waning glow mirrored the heart of the silent observer. His shining moment had fallen just short of success but the distance seemed a yawning chasm. He could feel the eyes of the crowd upon him, but the dim light shielded him from what must surely be looks of disenchantment. Slowly the consequences of his failure became strikingly clear.
His greatest hopes and dreams had been coupled to his absolute success. With the weight of defeat, came the crushing realization that his wish would never be realized. The past year of life was all for naught.
What had led to this fiasco? He moiled in thought to descry some insight. The past became a conspicuous hole into which the eyes did seek. Alas, no solitary answer came. He could find no place to blame for he had given everything.
Yet with a slight shimmer, the candle’s radiance increased. With it as well, the downcast eyes raised faintly. Was there now a chance that his dream remained intertwined with the fate of this solitary candle? Could he spare such hope in this moment of sorrow? Possibly a renewed burst of energy would atone for what could become a momentary stumble.
Could the unseen eyes be appeased with a second effort? Maybe triumph and approval were yet attainable upon the wings of rejuvenated fervor. Slowly the determination swelled. He summoned all his strength to battle once again.
A solitary figure stood shrouded on the outskirts of the crowd. He watched the eyes of the silent observer as the candle’s glow displayed the battle within the soul. Finally his voice broke the silence with a statement of pointed wisdom.
“Blow out the candle already and let’s eat some cake.”

- C. Gibbs

Supply (OFF #2)

2010-10-19T13:05:00.005-04:00

“That’s all I got.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t be much clearer. That’s all I got.”
“But, I thought…”
“I know what you thought, but it didn’t happen like it should have. Things went wrong.”
“Well, what do we do now?”
“I think we have to tap into the reserves.”
“No, it’s too early. It’s only been two weeks since the disaster; I’d rather wait until we’re completely desperate. We need to conserve.”
“We can’t conserve.”
“This coming from the person who didn’t grab enough for us to survive.”
“Listen. I said it didn’t happen the way we intended.”
“Well, what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re serious? We’re on our last leg here. You’re given a golden opportunity to grab more than enough to get us through this entire ordeal. You fail at doing that, and you don’t want to talk about it?”
“…it was hard?”
“Hard? HARD? Climbing Everest with nothing but a pair of biking shorts is hard. Learning Portuguese is hard. Teaching Dostoevsky to 6 year olds is hard. Walking…”
“I get it. I get it, but you weren’t there. You don’t know what happened.”
“…I guess I just don’t understand. You go into this situation knowing that this is the most important, most crucial chance we have since this entire ordeal began. If it were me, I would have given it my all and not let anything in my way.”
“Look, get off it! You weren’t there! There was hardly anybody there, and the ones that I saw were ones we’ve already looked at.”
“Oh, so now we’re picky?”
“Yes, we’re still picky! We still have standards, regardless if our lead abandoned us with just a few weeks before showtime.”
“(Sigh)..ok tap the reserves.”
“You mean..call the understudies.”
“…right..call the understudies.”

Race (OFF #1)

2010-10-19T10:29:00.001-04:00

He runs; his breathing is a tempo. His body moves as a fluid machine. The track is completely empty. The fog hides the track like a curtain. He runs through it, imagining himself pushing the fog apart, displacing what nature has decided to put in his way.

His legs push away the ground. It feels good to kick back the earth. This is his only time he really feels in control. It’s his time to be alone and to think about his life: His family, his successes, his failures.

No, not his failures. He brushes the thought out of his mind and runs faster. He tries to outrun the very idea of thinking about where his attempts failed. He runs even faster as the thought gains speed.

Think about it. Think about May 29.

No. No. Must run faster. Must not remember.

Remember? You came home and saw…

Saw nothing. It never happened. I don’t know what you’re talking…

She was talking with someone, yes.

Faster…faster.

A dead sprint now. The thought’s voice, like footsteps, wanes and gets quieter. Yet it continues to chase and weave behind him, speaking louder.

You heard her call it a misunderstanding. You said you didn’t believe her.

How could I? I…no, no I can’t do this.

The tempo of his breathing is now chaotic and random. He has lost focus.

You found a knife.

The track seems to spin around him as he spins around the track. He’s losing his footing.

You ignored her pleas.

He tries to catch himself and falls against the earth. He tastes cinders, blood, and sweat. He has fallen hard. The earth, once again, claims its victory.

“OK, let’s go.”

He is awoken from the dream-state from his fall. He opens his eyes to see the familiar black shoes.

Go OFF

2010-10-18T18:46:00.003-04:00

Feeling inspired to write but would rather not waste time with boring exposition or setting? Is the thought of too many words keeping you up at night? Are you really stressed and want a way of releasing that frustration? If you answered yes to any of those questions, then it's time to go OFF!

Yes, this has a cheesy name. You know it's creative. Don't hate. It stands for:

October Flash Fiction

What is flash fiction, you ask? I have anticipated your query and have prepared an answer in advance. Flash fiction, also known as sudden fiction, is writing with extreme brevity. It's all about getting to the point and being creative in the process. As a result of the brevity, some of the parts of the story are left up to the reader's imagination; it allows them to "fill in the gaps."

So, here's the plan to all those interested:

Starting Monday, October 18, we're going to knock out a flash fiction story a day for an entire week. The length is 300 words. No more, no less. You're not limited to genre, but we want individual stories each day. No continuing story as the week progresses. Post them on your blog so that we all can read them and comment on each others'.

To wrap up:

It starts October 18.
Shoot for a story a day for an entire week. That's 7 stories.
No limit on genre
They must be individual stories
300 words

Even if you're not a writer, this is a great way of getting the creative juices flowing! If you want to be a writer, use this to get your feet wet! If you're already a writer, you're probably too stuck up to do this anyway. Thanks a lot, loser! Go back to writing at Starbucks inside of a Target!

Post in the comments if you're participating in going OFF. Leave your blog address, too!

Happy writing!

Pork and homosexuality

2010-10-13T19:30:00.002-04:00

This will be offensive to someone. I just know it. The title alone is sure to get someone all riled up. But, that's the point. If you're that person who is already offended, I apologize. I promise I have a reason. Hear/read me out. As my first crazy Comp 2 prof used to say at Cedarville, there's a method to my madness.

Actually, if you're not already offended, get ready.

I'm against homosexuality. I think it is a sin. I think the Bible clearly illustrates this. Now, before you do what every one else does who would like to denounce the Bible and run to Leviticus to take a crazy law out of context (you're not original, by the way. They did in Jesus's time too), let me go ahead and save you the trip. I know that those laws are in there. I am also convinced that the sole reason those laws are there were not to make God and Christians out to look like irrational fools, but rather to show that not a single person can obey each of those laws. We needed a new covenant, a new law, which God provided through His Son, Jesus Christ. So, in essence, when you quote these laws stating how crazy they are and how no one follows them, we're essentially saying the same thing. Thanks for proving my point.

OK, got that part out of the way. Now, back to the root of the post. Homosexuality is a sin. However, I think it is blown out of proportion a little.

Follow me. Just follow me.

A sin is a sin is a sin. In God's eyes, homosexuality and lying are the exact same. Much like the Jewish law that it's a sin to eat pork (title, justified). There is no greater or lesser sins. A sin is a sin. So, why is it that people will bend over backwards to condemn homosexuality, but don't go to such severe measures when someone lies or steals?

It's our fault.

We have categorized our sin. In reality, each sin is offensive in God's eyes regardless of how man has decided to categorize them. However, man has decided that homosexuality or fornication or teen pregnancy is worse than lying or stealing or cheating on a test. Now, in no way am I saying that I am okay with any of these "more serious" sins. I'm not. I'm not for ANY sin, regardless of how severe or less-severe man has deemed them.

Also, I'm not in the market of condemning anyone who is guilty of sin. There is so much animosity toward those who are homosexual or are pregnant at a young age or whatever else. When, in reality, we should be loving and supporting those just like we would anyone else! I just think we, as Christians, need to check the planks in our own eyes before we find the splinters in others'. When we realize that we are all guilty of sin, then we can begin to help and love one another instead of immediately condemning those who are guilty of the "more severe" sins.

Condemning others before condemning ourselves is how the body of Christ got to the gross misrepresentation that is upheld in the media and in the world today. But, that's a topic for another post.

P.S. Plankeye. Good band.

A response

2010-08-26T16:13:00.002-04:00

This is continuing the comment thread found here. My comment was too big, so I'm putting it here.

I'm going to be echoing a lot of what Nate said (we agree on a lot..we should be friends), but the problem I had in my home church was that any type disagreement was a sin. My church was VERY legalistic. So much so that I can't remember actually growing at all in my relationship with God until I got out on my own. I started college still an infant in God's word. I got some instruction from my parents, but that was it. Nothing from the church. My mom and dad both were faithful sunday school teachers to 3rd-5th graders and to the youth for a long time while I was growing up. However, because we enjoyed a life outside of church and didn't listen to southern gospel all the time, there were people in the church that despised us. One person, the organ player, wrote dad a letter stating that my parents were giving the church a black eye. Did not speak a word to them, just handed them a letter. Her name is Dottie Esque. She was an awful organist and an even worse singer. I don't care if she reads this either. She's probably dead by now or can't use a computer so, no worries.

Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah. Legalism and disagreeing. It's people like Dottie that make me wary about questioning what I have been taught all my life from behind the pulpit. Also, I came from a family that was VERY strong 5 point Calvinist. It was almost 6 point, and I was taught by some members of my family that anyone who didn't believe in all 5 points were deceivers and in Satan's service. So it's very hard for me to actually converse with someone who isn't necessarily 5 point..uh my wife and her family for example...and not get out the holy water and exorcism tongs when the topic is discussed. Luckily, it hardly ever does. And I don't mean to offend any members of my family by this. It's just that this sort of stance makes the idea of disagreement, which can be a good thing, an act of apostasy, which is a bad thing.

So, I see what you mean when it comes to testing or questioning what we believe. It's at those times that I turn to God's word. I agree with you, Nate, that the ability to test and analyze our faith is a beautiful thing. That's what I keep telling people who think that I'm catholic. I'm not catholic. Mainly because I read God's word for myself and don't rely on some minister or some church official to tell me what to believe. I think a lot of Baptist churches are more like Catholic churches than they would like to admit. Woah..did I just say that?

By the way, I could write a book on my legalistic church. Oh the stories I could tell...

Stuck Between Sleep and Awake

2010-08-24T08:15:00.007-04:00

Here I am.

A year ago, I never thought I would be at this place. I've achieved a Masters degree, and in the span of 2 1/2 months, my dream of starting in a new school in the fall is all but dashed against rocks. Under the impression and encouragement from my school's job placement guarantee, I had nothing but high hopes leading up to the fall. I would look forward to a new classroom, spending all summer planning my year, looking forward to "back to school" sales, meeting my colleagues, and decorating my room. But, it's not to be. For some reason, God saw fit to leave me without a job for this school year. I may end up subbing, but even those leads seem all but completely faded away.

Instead, I'm home with my 2 kids playing stay-at-home-dad. While I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them and having the privilege of raising them, I still feel completely let down. I know with these situations, people are supposed to start with the "I'm having an unsurmountable problem, and things aren't going my way and not as I planned" then follow it up with "But, I'm confident in what is in store for me".

Well, sorry. I'm not in that spot yet. Right now, I feel like I've wasted a lot of money and a lot of time on a Masters degree that's only worth has been to fill up a picture frame. I feel like the rough days where I feel like I couldn't get through were not worth it. I feel like the prayers asking God for strength those days, and the reminders that the hard days were getting me ready for the job God had for me in the fall, were wasted.

There was a song I heard back in the Spring by The Classic Crime called "Salt in the Snow". At the time, I thought that it was a great song to listen to and reflect on those rough two years that included, but were not limited to, a job loss, a miscarriage, and a death in the family. Now, it seems that song is always in my head. Here's part of it.

In this where I am for your sake,

Stuck between sleep and awake?

My mind is dreaming of things.

Are you listening?

I took you for granted again

And threw you aside

And pretended for one minute that I had control of my life,

And direction it seemed to be in

I was wrong again,

are you listening?

I have heard that winter's cold

will give way to summer's warmth

Oh no! Like salt in the snow

I'm melted and left all alone on the side of the road.

I will wait for you to come again,

And I can't pretend like I'm confident

And I can't pretend like it makes much sense when it doesn't.

That's where I am right now. Stuck between sleep and awake. I can't help but feel abandoned and left alone. I'm like that salt, waiting to be picked up or used again in some way. If this is where I am, that's fine. I just wish I didn't feel that I didn't waste a bunch of money on a degree and schooling that has shown no benefit right now.

Yesterday was the first day of school. I sat at home and filled out applications for places that do not require a teaching license. I'm holding out hope for something soon.

But right now, I'm stuck.

Random thoughts on TNG

2010-08-10T15:18:00.005-04:00

I'm progressing through the first seasons of TNG. Here are some observations I've made while watching.

- Every now and then, I kinda wish I had a Q in my life that would come in and challenge me with imminent death unless I learned his lesson.

- Guinan is all kinds of cool.

- Tasha Yar just died. I am beyond happy. Her will at the end of that episode was awful, though.

- "Conspiracy" was a great episode. Probably my favorite of the first season. "A Matter of Honor" is a phenomenal episode from season 2 as is "Q Who".

- Actually, there are a lot of great episodes from season 2

- Riker's beard first makes an appearance in the first episode of the second season. There's a certain musical aura that happens when it first appears on screen. Er...at least I think there is. It could be in my head. What a great beard.

- Data is phenomenal. I did not care for him as much while watching it when I was young. He's a well written character. Brent Spiner is a great actor as well.

- While watching these episodes, I have dubbed Abby #1 and Evie, Data. Because she would be #2.

Fade by Robert Cormier

2010-07-18T15:31:00.004-04:00

I finished this book a while back and haven't had the chance to post a review.

I love Robert Cormier. I think he paved the way for many young adult authors now. His stuff, however, can be controversial. He deals with a lot of teen angst, mostly male, and doesn't hold back when it comes to writing about some of the things that 12-15 year old boys do at their age. That being said, some of his novels are phenomenal. "The Chocolate War" and "I Am The Cheese" are two great reads that keep the questionable content in check with a great story.

"Fade" is not one of those books.

I'm not entirely sure why, but this book was disgusting. It took a lot for me to keep reading this book and not give it up halfway through. Thankfully, the questionable stuff ended about 1/4 of the way through, but it was just unnecessary. I can understand why authors would use something like that to prove a point, and it did fit well with the story itself, but it got out of hand quickly. Some of the stuff was downright gross.

The plot wasn't even that great, and the book really fizzled out at the end. Very anti-climatic and unsurprising. I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone.

Sorry, Mr. Cormier.

Another book I just finished was "Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins. It was a great read that was full of suspense and plenty of violence. The antagonist is a tough teenage girl who is extremely skilled at the bow and arrow. The setting is a futuristic dystopian world (the newest trend in YA literature) where teenagers are chosen from each "district" to fight to the death in an arena. The event is televised and mandatory viewing for all in the districts.

This book is great. I would really recommend it. It's a blend of sci-fi and wilderness/survival motifs. The only qualm I have is that it should be a standalone book. Because of the new trend to write books in series or trilogy, the "continuing storyline" feels forced, almost like Collins was pressured to make more than one book out of it. I am reading the second book now, and with only 4 chapters under my belt, it's hard to stay with it. I'll let you know if my mind changes about it.

The Summer List

2010-05-29T20:29:00.002-04:00

So I added this widget on the side -------->

It's my summer reading list. I'll be updating it as I finish books. Then, I'll be writing reviews on this blog. Here are a few of those books:

Dethroning Jesus: Exposing Popular Culture's Quest to Unseat the Biblical Christ - This is more for Jared to better himself. I started reading this book 2 years ago but got distracted with school and never picked it back up. The title is pretty self-explanatory. I think it is beneficial to read it now after spending time at a school like OSU where Jesus is seen from a differing perspective than my own. We'll see.

The Great Gatsby and Canterbury Tales - This fulfills the "classical" portion of my list. The only reason I'm reading Gatsby is because I've never read it, and I will have to teach it eventually. Canterbury is on the list because I want to read it for enjoyment, not for a class at OSU where we had to read it in the original old english. That was brutal.

Fade and Tenderness - Both by Robert Cormier, both more than likely dark and disturbing. He's a phenomenal author and is climbing the chart of my favorite authors.

Hunger Games and Red Pyramid - Along with Cormier, these two are more young adult novels. What? I like young adult novels. They're short, easy to read, and have great stories. Anyway, these two books are the first books in two very popular trilogies.

My First Year As A Teacher - ...I'm scared of my first year.

That's all. Will post reviews when I finish! I'm reading "A Clockwork Orange" now. It's probably one of the more challenging books I've read.

Confessions

2010-05-24T10:03:00.003-04:00

In the same vein as Kat, I've decided to confess some odd traits of my own:

- I like girl salads. Like, really love salads with fruit, some sort of fruity vinaigrette, and greens. Seriously. I also wasn't aware that men didn't eat such salads until said person who is doing these lists called me out on it while we were on double date.

- I have mild panic attacks when I can't find clothes I want to wear in my closet.

- I love watching TNG while doing school stuff. I find it oddly soothing.

- I don't clap in church. This comes from my home church which believed syncopation was a sin (go ahead and mull that one over). It is a hump that I have yet to be able to cross over. I also don't jump, but that's because my weight would collapse the floor.

- I'm slowly becoming a person that listens to music with constant screaming. This has been an 8 year journey.

- Man's greatest invention was the binder clip. Not really a confession, but still truth.

42 (part 2, part 1 below)

2010-05-14T08:35:00.004-04:00

Day 281.41.3
Control begins. No noticeable conflicts. A few minor skirmishes, but no major casualties reported. I'm beginning to wonder why the Settlers attempt to break through. It has always been custom that they live where they are placed. The Patriarchs set this system up when horrible violence erupted mid-way through the first chapter. It's foolish for them to try and break apart a system that has worked. Unfortunately, their ignorance and selfish desires lead them to their own destruction. I feel no guilt having to destroy those who try to destroy Control.

42 (my first attempt at science fiction)

2010-05-13T10:21:00.003-04:00

Day 280 of 41, chapter 3:

Control begins tomorrow. When the zero hour hits, I will be a 3rd generation Controller. My grandfather came to U with his family in pursuit of scientific discovery. As soon as Icarus was commissioned by the United Space Exploration Commission to depart Earth and voyage to and study U, my family was on board. We are one of the first generation settlers of U. The citizens have dubbed us and those like us "Patriarchs." Patriarchs have always been in authoritative positions on U. My grandfather was soon placed in one of these positions right around this time.
Right before the first chapter ended.
His pursuit of science discovery soon became less significant when a threat began to build within certain groups of settlers. Because of this, he was placed in charge of security. His experience in the military back on Earth fueled this decision. Soon after, he developed a way of suppressing the threat from the hostile settlers. 'Control' was born. Control was a success. It kept the hostile settlers controlled without much casualty.
My father's role as Controller during his chapter was different, though. The settlers were kept down until the next chapter was about to close. Their insidious plan was averted by well-trained Control agents lead by my father. There were an exponential amount of casualties and destruction, however. It was not as clean and tidy as my grandfather's Control operation.
But now, it is my turn to serve as Controller. This time, the control agents have been trained to prepare for any sort of espionage or covert operations. The Settlers, a name they have chosen for themselves, won't breach our territory this time.

We will fight for the darkness.

Christianity and Financial "Humility"

2010-04-25T08:38:00.001-04:00

I'm just going to come right out and say what I want to say. This is my thesis for the rest of this entire rant. As I've instructed my students, it should come at the end of my introduction paragraph. Although, by my standards, this intro paragraph is awful. However, that's beside the point. I'll come back and edit it later. Anyway, here we go. Thesis time: Being a financially responsible and humble Christian does not directly correlate with an extreme drop within Christian circles in monetary compensation.

Next step in persuasive paper: Body paragraph. Explain your thesis by backing it up. Use facts or real-life examples.

One of my best friends, this guy, is a science teacher. He is also someone by his own conviction desires to teach creationism. Therefore, because public schooling would more than likely tell him to teach evolution and not creationism (there are exceptions, I know), he decided to look a Christian schools. He interviewed at a few places. One notable place I remember was in PA. He told me that they were offering him a starting salary of less than 20K. I'm not sure, but I believe he said it was in the mid-teens. He resorted to moving to Florida to find a job with "decent" pay. He also took part of my heart with him, but that's an entirely different post. Another example: Someone within my group at OSU was told that she would have a job at a local Christian school if she wanted it. She said they offered her 19K to start out. Nine-teen-thou-sand. This is for a teacher that isn't fresh out of college, but went through a year of graduate school and has her masters degree.

Next step: Explain why it is a problem.

I am sorely afraid that I am going to step on toes when I address this issue. Unfortunately, this has been something I have been pondering and debating in my own head for way too long. It needs to come out. Plus, this is something that my wife, being the accountant, and I have discussed on more than one occasion. If everyone else turns against me, at least I know she's on my side.

I'm afraid that some in the Christian ministry have taken this:

which I completely agree with, and have used it as a reasoning not to pay christian teachers enough money. Now, I'm well aware that there are plenty of times in scripture where God condemns the love of money (Heb 13:5; Matt 6:19-21). But, I'm not talking about the love of money or greed. I'm talking about being paid enough to survive!

Next step: Personal Story. Relate to audience. Now, put yourself in my shoes. I'm an English teacher. Well, close to being one. The only thing standing between me and my degree that says I'm an English teacher is 2 weeks of student teaching, an oral defense, and an application. But, for our sake, let's just say I'm an English teacher now. I'm also a male and a Christian.
Because I'm a male and Christian, it seems only logical to some people that I teach English at a Christian school. I think that's a great idea. However, when people ask me if I'm going to apply there and I say no, they immediately ask me "Why?", as if the very thought of a Christian entering the secular world of teaching is blasphemous and sacrilegious. But that's an entirely different topic for a different day. If that's not bad enough, when I tell them it's because they don't pay enough money, I get these sickening looks that would make Medusa blush. It shouldn't be about the money, I hear them say under their breath. You should do it for the 'ministry.' Yes, I do agree that I should do it for the 'ministry.' However, can I not 'minister' at a public school, too?
And then there's this other Christian unwritten rule that says that the wife should stay home with the children. Again, I completely agree with that statement. But, when I tell people that my wife is working when I have 2 kids, the looks show up again.

Next step: Break it down.
So wait...this is my line of thinking:

Christians should live in financial humility. Check.
Christian mothers should stay home with their children. Check.
A Christian father should work and be the bread winner. Check.
Christian teachers should only work at Christian schools. Check.
Christian schools pay significantly less (sometimes 20K or less) than their public counterparts. Check.
Christian schools see it as a 'ministry' and should not worry about how much they get paid.
Christians should be financially humble. Check.
Christians shoudn't worry about money. Check.
Christian wives of male Christian teachers should stay home with their children. Check.

Wait.

So you want me to make less than 20K a year with two kids, you want my wife not to work and stay at home, sticking to a pre-WWII ideal (come on, people), and you expect me to be financially humble and not worry about money?

I'm sorry that doesn't make sense.

Final step: Bring it home.

I'm afraid that Christian schools are turning away good Christian teachers, like myself, because of their lack of willingness to pay teachers well. It's a shame that I have to go into public school solely because of the pay scale. Then, when I tell others I won't be applying at Christian schools because of the money, I'm somehow seen as selfish and loving money more than I am God. THEN, when I tell people that my wife works, it's as if I've betrayed all of womanhood. So, they want me to work at a christian school, let my wife stay home with 2 kids, and somehow pay the mortgage, car payment, school loans, etc on less than 20K? Wait, what? And I know that "God will provide," but I also believe that God wants us to be responsible Christians. I'm not about to stretch my means so far that they're nonexistent.

And there's nothing wrong with any of these things. I understand that most people are able to make it with less than 20K a year and are able to live off of one income. I have yet to find out how myself, but I know it' s possible.

But I will NOT stand idly by when I'm told I'm being greedy and selfish by not applying at Christian schools because of the lack of pay. That's not greed. That's just being responsible.

Jesus's Frank-ness

2010-04-12T20:01:00.000-04:00

First and foremost, one of my good friends, has started his own blog. Here's hoping he can update more often than I do, which is almost every 6 months. Awful. He's also super intelligent, is a scienc teacher, and will more than likely wax so philosophically that your head will explode.

You can find it here.

He also mentioned me; and by blogging law, I must mention him.

By the way, I'm fairly confident that my usage of a semicolon has always been wrong. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure that I've never known the correct way of using one.

That was random.

Apologies.

So, recently I've been rather amiss in my devotions. My wife and I were both challenged as we were reading through parenting books about how we as a family have not done enough. It was a sobering thing to read that we should be able to correct and recite scripture when we punish, yet we had not spent the time ourselves memorizing the scripture ourselves. How can we as parents expect our children to live by scripture and know it when we can't even recite it? In response, I have decided to read through the book of John, and as if God knew that I was needing to hear from Him (imagine that!), He hit me in the first chapter.

The third and fourth disciples that Jesus called were Philip and Nathanael:

The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, "Follow me."

Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida. Philip found Nathanael and told him, "We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."

"Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" Nathanael asked.
"Come and see," said Philip. (John 1:43-46 NIV)

I just want to stop here and comment on the frank-ness of Nathanael. I must admit that if I were in Nathanael's shoes, I'd have more than likely said the same thing. To me, he's saying, "Nazareth? Seriously? I'll believe it when I see it." More than likely, Nathanael had his own vision of what the coming Messiah would be like..and now he hears that He's from Nazareth? It didn't fit in his line of thinking. I feel like that sometimes when I hear about wondrous things that God is doing in people's lives, especially if it's something that I didn't expect. My own ego and thinking sometimes gets in the way and doesn't believe that God would do the things the way He chooses to do.

To me, that would be enough. Thanks, God! Humbled. But, the gospel of John is full of foreshadowing. Philip uses it here with "Come and see" and Jesus uses it in the next few verses." And as an aside, Jesus used foreshadowing ALL of the time! Whoever says that the Bible can't be appreciated as literature is crazy. You wanna see symbolism? Take a gander at Revelation. There's so much symbolism that there's symbols FOR SYMBOLS!!

Anyway.

Philip takes Nathanael to see Jesus:

When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, "Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false."

"How do you know me?" Nathanael asked.

Jesus answered, "I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you."

Then Nathanael declared, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel."

Jesus said, "You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You shall see greater things than that."

He then added, "I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man." (John 1:47-51)

There's so much in these five verses that I love. First off, Jesus knew Nathanael before Nathanael knew Jesus. If that's not a picture of God's sovereign election, I don't know what is. Secondly, Nathanael is BLOWN AWAY that Jesus saw him under the fig tree. Thirdly, Jesus's response is so frank. He is saying "Nathanael, you're amazed simply because I saw you? Get ready." I wonder what Nathanael's reaction was. Chills? Chill bumps? Goose bumps? Other bumps? I know I get goose bumps when I read that. And then, as if Jesus wanted to blow Nathanael's sandals right off his feet, He tells him that he will see this wondrous, heavenly beauty of the sky splitting open and angels of GOD descending and ascending on the Son of man. Now, I'm no biblical scholar, but to me that sounds like Christ's ascension and second coming. I could be wrong, but that's what I get out of it.

But, I identify with Nathanael so much in this passage. I get so AMAZED when God does something small in my life. When I read this passage, I was humbled over the fact that God has SO MUCH more in store for me. Yet, I settle for the smallest things and believe that is all God can do.

All I have to do is follow Him, just like Nathanael did.

Call me crazy.

2009-08-20T15:41:00.000-04:00

Among conservative circles, there are always signs of the coming apocalypse. For example: Grassroots petitions were effortlessly sent to email inboxes asking for Christians not to vote for Obama because he was the Antichrist. First, Obama's not the Antichrist. Hate to collapse your unstable platform. Secondly, even if he WERE the Antichrist, we have no chance of stopping it. If God is sovereign (which He is. Newsflash), we can't stop Him from putting the Antichrist into power. It's all part of His divine plan. We have no say.

In light of this, I'm going to go against ALL conservative petitions and welcome in these signs of the apocalypse. Anything to get me out of here quicker. You wanna do the research necessary to put microchips in people? Bring it!

If it means I'm a few steps closer to the end, I'm all for it.

Review of The Book Thief

2009-04-05T20:43:00.000-04:00

I am hooked on Young Adult literature.

If I wasn't studying to be a High School English teacher, that statement would stamp me as a pedophile. Fortunately, that's not the case. But, yeah. I'm addicted. After reading one or two a week for ten weeks, I guess it's natural. All that to say I was pretty stoked to delve into more in the form of Markus Zusak's The Book Thief.

The book follows young Liesel growing up with her foster parents. They eventually add one more to the family as a young Jewish man, Max shows up on their front door. That wouldn't be a problem...except this is Nazi Germany (dun dun DUUUHHHH!!!!). Sorry.

The plot, which I won't discuss to avoid the spoils of spoilers, is pretty predictable. What I found most intriguing about the story is that Liesel is not narrating. While we follow Liesel through 95% of the book, the story is not actually told from her perspective. It is told by another character who is recalling the autobiography that he read written by Liesel telling the story of her growing up in Germany. To put it in literary terms, it's a 3rd person narrative inside a 1st person narrative. The awesomeness-or at least what I think is awesome-doesn't end there. The narrator itself is awesome.

It's Death. Death. And yes he wears a black cape with a hood, but only when it's cold. Death becomes fascinated with Liesel as he encounters her through the novel.

So, anyway, I highly recommend the book. Now my wife needs the computer to do some sort of tax work. Accounting...awesome.

Best of

2009-01-22T16:40:00.000-05:00

I hate introductions. Here's stuff I read, watched, and listened to in 2008. I recommend it.

Best books:

The Other Mother by Gwendolen Cross

A new mother and a veteran mother are neighbors in a mcmansion neighborhood in Teaneck, NJ. Cross writes from both mothers' perspectives in an interesting look at the Mommy Wars.

Ruth Hall: A Domestic Tale of the Present Time by Fanny Fern

A story of a woman who realizes her first love is writing and her quest to get published. The writing style is conversational which leads to a quick, enjoyable read.

An Abundance of Katherines by John Green

My favorite author of 2008 and my favorite novel of 2008. It's a young adult novel about a teenage prodigy who goes on a road trip after being dumped by a Katherine for the 19th time. With his friend Hassan, he searches for the next Katherine, but instead finds more than he could have ever imagined (I know that's such a generic end to a summary. I'm sorry). Paper Towns is Green's latest novel that I also recommend reading.

Best short stories:

The Oval Portrait (Edgar Allan Poe) - short with a great ending
Ligeia (Edgar Allan Poe) - an excellent example of Poe's creepy storytelling
My Kinsman, Major Molineaux (Nathaniel Hawthorne) - a great look at post-colonial America
The Birthmark (Nathaniel Hawthorne) - a story about the quest for human perfection and a woman's undying love for her husband.

Best movies:

The Dark Knight

An obvious choice punctuated by Heath Ledger's haunting, oscar-worthy performance.

Cloverfield

Not necessarily a great movie, but one heck of a cinematic experience. What a great concept for a movie. Let's hope JJ Abrams doesn't ruin it like LOST...okay LOST hasn't jumped yet but it's teetering on the edge.

Ironman

I liked this movie because it went beyond a comic book movie. It was actually good and didn't have to heavily rely on the already established premise.

X-Files: I Want To Believe

After much thought, I've decided that I enjoyed this movie. It was more of the monster of the week style X-Files that I thoroughly enjoyed. P.S. if you look at this movie poster closely, you can see an example of poor photoshop. If you're going to place different faces on people, at least make sure the lighting is the same. Good gravy.

Best music:

Underoath - Lost In The Sound of Separation

There are times when I like my music to rear back and punch me in the face. This record takes care of that desire for me.

The Ting Tings - We Started Nothing

What? I like it. It's catchy! ...Shutup

Silversun Pickups - Carnavas

Smashing Pumpkins meets Mute Math.

Jon Foreman - Winter

Beautiful, poetic lyrics meet acoustic guitar. Jon is an excellent songwriter and musician. This is my favorite record of the whole year.

I also hate conclusions.

2008-11-21T19:14:00.000-05:00

[this is my first attempt at a teen angst novel...I feel there's one in me somewhere..seeing as how I was once a teen and had plenty of angst]

There she is.

Holy cow. Are you serious? She has to be a model. She must be a model. Her blond hair, those lips. Every hormone in my body begins running laps around my stomach. I must talk to her. She must be new here. I've only seen her one other time. I was walking down the main hallway between 2nd and 3rd period outside of Mrs. Walker's room. I nearly ran right into Mrs. Walker's second fold of fat protruding from under her elbow. Gross. She's massive. I swear when she wears purple, it's like Jabba the Hut ate Grimace. Gross.
Anyway, back to this girl. I must speak with her. She's new which means she's so accessible to me right now. She has no idea what kind of person I really am. No one has read her the book of my dork-filled life written by the most popular and with contributions from every girl I ever asked out and rejected me without taking a breath. I'm not a dork, though. I play sports, I don't buy into the whole Dungeons and Dragons thing. But, I'm not popular because I don't wear the clothes that Joe Celebrity wears. I don't party and I don't hang out with people. I'm not a loner because I do have friends. I'm basically nothing. A blank slate. It's like I fit in everywhere, but I don't fit in. It's hard to explain.
By the way, my name is Telemachus. Yes, Telemachus. Telly for short (although through grade school, this informal version of my name inevitably lead to "Smelly Telly"). My parents were big Homer fans. No, not Homer Simpson. Homer the poet. The blind poet. Don't ask me why they named me after Odysseus's son that was almost plowed over by his father in an attempt to test his sanity. My dad's name isn't Odysseus, it doesn't even start with an O, he doesn't even own a plow, nor do we own a farm. I think my dad went through an epic phase. My dad goes through a lot of phases. He catalogues them. He passed that along to me. Now, my phase is this girl.
I have to go speak with her. Me and my Transition Math book with a dude's sneakers on the front cover. Yeah, nothing says "mathematics" like a pair of 80s sneakers. It's like that on every text book. I'm pretty sure my english book has a picture of some dude riding a tractor..an oil painting of a dude riding a tractor. Somehow, a dude riding a tractor becomes classic and worthy of the cover of a textbook because someone used oil on canvas.
Seriously, look. At. Her. She doesn't smile. That intrigues me. I could be the one to make her smile. I could show her the meaning of true love here in first period Transition Mathematics. Holy cow, what's wrong with me? I'm already dreaming of our family before I know her name? What is her name? Something simple like Amy? Something polysyllabic like Adelaide? Maybe something Greek like Persephone (which I thought for the longest time was pronounced purse-phone). Ok stop imagining. First step: Find out her name.

[to be continued]

Stop Me If You've Heard This One

2008-10-26T21:50:00.000-04:00

I'm sick of this path. My feet have left their marks too many times to count. I'm weary of its repetition. Yet, here I am. The familiarity sickens me. The same sights, the same sounds.

With every step, the path gets darker, my shadow grows longer. A weight grows on my back. Its growth proportionate to my progress. The heat becomes a memory. With every exhale, my breath disperses and escapes in crystalline clouds.

I hate this place..but I always seem to find my way back. It never fails.

Forgive me. Rescue me. Purify me. Set me ablaze. Burn away this dross. Refine me. Change me.

I'm an old fart..

2008-10-15T17:27:00.000-04:00

Good gravy. Are you kidding me? I'm going through the staples of my "christian" music collection and couldn't believe how old they are.

DC Talk - Jesus Freak came out in 1995, Supernatural in 1998
Jars of Clay's self titled- 1995, Much Afraid 1997
Audio Adrenaline - Bloom 1996, Zombie 1997
Switchfoot - Chin 1997
Third Day's self titled and Conspiracy, 1997
All Star United - Smash Hit, 1997

These were staples, people. Staples of my music collection. Now they're over 10 years old? Are you serious? What a year 1997 was, though. Holy cow. But, we're talking staples, people.

STAPLES!!

Before

2008-07-30T19:33:00.000-04:00

Before you saw me, I saw you
before you spoke to me, I was speaking to you
before you thought about me, I was thinking about you
before you walked with me, I was making the path

before you loved me, I loved you.

I can't wait

2008-06-05T22:20:00.000-04:00

Let's talk about Honesty for a second

2008-05-27T21:14:00.000-04:00

In a time when I have to put the word "Christian" in quotes when I talk about popular "Christian" music, it's good to find music that's honest and doesn't hide behind ambiguous phrases.

This is Jon Foreman. He's the front man of the Christian "crossover" band, Switchfoot. They received a lot of criticism from some Christian music enthusiasts for their music after they left CCM label Sparrow and signed to secular label Columbia.

Well, 3 fantastic albums later, Switchfoot goes independent and Jon began work on 4 EPs to be released during the span of a year, named appropriately Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. The first three have already been released and the fourth will drop, obviously, in the summer.

I want to go on record right now and say that these EPs represent the most honest Christian music to ever be produced in the last ten years.

Let's face it. A lot of Christian music is about sunshine, roses, and fireworks. Not much meat is ever really fed to the listener. While there is nothing wrong with the CCM and P&W music that has been released, none of it has really addressed the struggles and hardships most Christians go through.

That's where Jon steps in. He no longer "hides" his words like most fans of Switchfoot thought they did after they went mainstream. Everything is honest and straightforward. I strongly encourage you to pick up each of the EPs and enjoy them each one individually and as a whole collection. Each one has its own flavor and theme. Autumn dwells on melancholy, winter is cold, and spring has its own feel of "rebirth".

One of my favorite songs from the Winter EP is called "I Am Still Running". I think these lyrics are a good example of the overall theme:

You remember me
before I learned to run
At the kissing tree
before I learned my guns
Were were 17
17 years young

I am still running
I am still running

I had no idea
the pain could be this strong
I had no idea
the nights could last this long
In my darkest fears
the rights became the wrongs

I am still running
I am still running

Build me a home
inside your scars
Build me a home
inside your song
Build me a home
inside your open arms
The only place I ever will belong

Bound freedom

2008-05-25T20:10:00.000-04:00

I am alone. My wrists and ankles are bound by metal shackles.
Chains and rope bind my torso, my head is painfully secured to the back of this cold metal chair.

After a determined period of time, the items of my capture tighten more. Tighter and tighter they squeeze. The tightening becomes quicker and harder. The pain is excruciating. My hands and feet throb, pleading for release. The whispers become stronger. It's hard to keep my eyes open as sweat stings them and keeps them close. Tighter, tighter. My extremities are now numb, my torso feels it's being crushed by the tightened rope. Skin gives way to the tightening shackles and blood begins to pour. Tighter, tighter. I try to scream but the rope has cut off my air supply. I make one final attempt to scream...

Thunderclap. The room fills with light. So bright that my eyes immediately shut. I force them to open and notice this beautiful struggle between light and dark, as if the light is chasing away the dark. The dark attempts to fight back, but the light continues to triumph until no dark is left.

The metal cage surrounding me begins to glow and melt away. The shackles and rope disintegrate. My lungs immediately begin to breathe again and my extremities welcome the return to consciousness. I am completely free. I stand and feeling returns to my legs. I walk towards my rescuer.

I look down at my wrists and notice the bruises and scars begin to fade. The Light shows me His hands.Those same scars appear on His wrists, now permanently scarred. Without a word spoken, I understand completely what this Light has done for me.

I am bound again, but not the same.
My shackles are his Grace, my rope is His love.
I am forever captive to Him, the one who freed me.
I can never be let go, I can never be set free.
For I am in His hands and He will never let go.

Hallelujah, being bound has never felt so free.

A cry for motion sickness

2008-04-11T21:53:00.001-04:00

I'm sorry for standing still for so long. I'm sorry that I never moved in any direction. I'm sorry that I've been stale and lukewarm. My stoic life has been shameful. My idle walk, selfish. Help me escape this void. Help me to break out of the stagnant state I've let myself fall into.

Help me to move again. Bring me back to a state of motion. Make me worthy of the status I never deserved. That I could never earn. That I could never gain. Put me back in that place. Embed me in that motion again. Place me into that pilgrimage closer to you.

Synopsis

2008-04-09T18:18:00.000-04:00

INT.COFFEE SHOP

FADE UP FROM BLACK. A busy COFFEE SHOP is the setting for our two characters: good friends ANSON and JACOB. They sit at a table for four both enjoying their cup of joe. Surrounding them are other patrons on couches, in recliners, and at other tables. Some are deep in a book, some are typing away on laptops, and others are enjoying the company of friends.

JACOB is studying the intricacies of the coffee mug he's holding; tracing the complex designs with his fingers. ANSON takes a sip of his hot beverage. Both friends laugh and share comments about some of the weirder coffee junkies that always come in just to be seen. We join in on the conversation after a small break in the laughs.

ANSON
I had a dream about her again last night.

JACOB
Really?

ANSON
Yeah.

ANSON takes another sip of his coffee.

JACOB
You wanna talk about it?

ANSON finishes his drink and sets the mug down slowly. It lands on the table with a muted "plunk". He takes a moment to collect what he wants to say as if he's rearranging everything in his mind.

ANSON
We were...I dunno...somewhere like a park. There were people everywhere. Could have been a zoo or something,
(hurriedly)
whatever it doesn't matter.

We were laughing and just having a great time together. It was awesome. Perfect, man. We spent, like, a whole day together.

ANSON pauses and rubs the side of his coffee mug.

ANSON
(con't)
But then I realized, in my dream, that this was a dream. Then she realized it was just a dream. It was like we both paused the dream and stepped outside of it and realized at a sub sub conscious level that none of this was real.

ANSON pauses again. JACOB looks down at his mug and takes another sip.

ANSON
We both realized at the same time that this wasn't going to last. We were victims of a cruel joke. The joy we had experienced together was only temporary. It wasn't going to last. Then I began to cry, like, sob. Uncontrollably. Then she began to cry.

ANSON begins to tear up. Tries to stay under control.

ANSON
Then we hug. It was so real, man. I could smell her again. The lotion, the perfume, the smell of her hair, all the things I hadn't smelled in so long came rushing back. It was surreal. Then, then she tells me, in my ear..."You don't know how much I love you". And I told her "I know. I love you too"...then I wake up.

A server walks by and cleans the tables surrounding them. The coffee shop is slowly beginning to empty as the sun has moved and casts long shadows on the tile floor. ANSON waits for her to leave before continuing.

ANSON
So I wake up, crying of course. And as I lie there crying, I realize that, like the dream, none of this seems real. Life without her doesn't seem real. It's as if my life is a movie. Remember those pyramids you had to draw in lit class in high school? On the way up to the peak, all this action leads up to the climax at the peak of the pyramid. Then, after that, all these things happen as a result of the climax, then the movie ends. Her death was the climax and where I am now is the falling action...all the stuff that happens to wrap everything up in a neat little bow before the movie ends. I'm waiting for the end. Sometimes I don't feel like going another day. I want this life to end. I want to escape this world. I want the curtain to close, the story to end.

ANSON pauses, finishes his coffee.

But, I don't think that's going to happen. There is some reason why she died and I'm continuing on. So I just have to continue, make my way through the
falling action. Pick up all the pieces that have shattered since her death and move on.

Put everything back together again.