Think Before Thou Posteth

I would write a poem of love
To my darling heavenly light above
But ere spoken my words are undone
For fear they be taken by the wrong one
My heart etched words would too soon
Be picked up by the trembling pale moon
And seeing words of 'disc' and 'light'
Would on her wings of deep midnight
Rise with trembling heart in trembling hand
and shining eyes, before me stand
Holding out her still beating heart to me
Moved so by cupid's boiling sea
And then what would I dare to do
To speak to Luna a lie or the truth
For both lead down toward deaths door
And would break the moon forever more
So no words of love will I write to the sun
Here where they can be seen by everyone
Instead in the secret my heart once more
Will remain behind the misty door

To J.S. with all my enduring enmity

Ever more and more
I come to see
Your face as the item
Of my single hatred
Your confining eyes
That trap all ideas inside
That little shake
Of your brain dead head
When you dismiss me
Like some loathsome stain
You have scraped me down
Upon your welcome mat
Embracing me with daggers
And smiles
Your despicable lies
Choke my soul
And break the strength of my bones
I have never hated anyone
More than I hate you
But wait
One day
You’ll need me there
And I just won’t care
I’ll smile that same smile
You always grin at me
And I’ll say the same words
Your repetitive phrases
Of trite nothingness
What makes me hate you?
What causes this gash?
What makes my pen spill
With words so rash?
That I would even
Dare my soul to utter
That it is well and good
You will never be a father
But that curse, I stay,
It shall not depart my lips
For I know something far worse
This too shall eclipse
Hope once found
Shall shatter still stronger
Then no more will you have
Thoughts that are longer
These mysteries are plain
Or sooner will be
But for now I’ll smile
And take all your scorn
Within me
Continue on this path
O foul vexed man
And you will not like the end
Of your story
.

Why I am not interested in Christian Nonfiction like The Shack or Self Help Books

Why I am not interested in Christian NonFiction or Self Help Books

I am an intellectual person, in that research and study and reading and pondering and seeking out knowledge and wisdom has always been a deep part of who I am. Because of this, people have long thought that I would be interested in all kinds of books relating to intellectual discussion. These have ranged far and wide, from research papers to theological theses to philosophical allegories to self help books. However, time and time again, I have gotten books from people, have read only a small part, and never read them again.

Now, before I continue, if you are one of these people, please do not take this as some kind of angry rant. It’s not. I am thankful to have people in my life who take enough interest my own interests to wish to provide something entertaining and thought provoking or even spiritually uplifting for me. I also understand that often when someone is truly touched, moved, or encouraged by a book, they will be passionate about sharing that experience with others. So, please, understand that this does not come from bitterness towards people or hatred for self help books. This is merely me explaining my personal position, in order to A) answer a question for myself, B) provide meaningful and thought provoking discussion, and C) hear what your opinions are on this topic.

Of all these various kinds of books, the ones I get recommended and handed to me the most are Christian Self Help Books. Even as I write that, the laundry list that comes to mind is staggering. So many books that people have wanted me to read, many of which I have never even cracked the spine of. Why? What do I have against them?

Nothing. These books are fine. Most are reasonably well written, and cover topics which are most definitely relevant to me. So why do I not read them? Because there are two things that any Christian Self Help Book is trying to do. They are either out to convince you to think about life and issues the way they do, or they are there to help you better your own life, either your internal issues or your external relationships.

The first general type is then more theoretical, theological, and philosophical. The problem I have with this is simple: History teaches us that theology and theories have harmed the church more than anything else, marring the bride of Christ, and staining the reputation of the church and of Jesus even to our own day. What am I referring to?

Throughout history, from the very inception of the church, there have been people who have gained spiritual insight and revelation for their lives. But while they were passionate, they were also fools. They insisted that the revelation God gave them specifically, was meant for all, that any who did not agree with them must be false messengers from Satan. They approached life with such a dualistic viewpoint, and they and their followers acted from it. War after war, witch burning after witch burning, crusade after crusade, they desecrated the name of God by taking “Holy Wars” in his name. They were no better then the Muslims who bombed the Twin Towers on 9-11.

So excuse me if I am cautious about following people who claim to have special revelation. I understand that not all are like. In fact, I believe that a large majority of people who write books like these only have the readers’ best interest at heart. I am not saying that all Christian Self Help Books are out to get you to go on a Crusade. What I am saying is that many view their way of approaching or dealing with life as the ONLY way. And that is a dangerous mindset to have.

(Here I should probably add a sidenote that I am not saying that there are many ways to God…. but…. then again, there are many ways to God. In fact, each person has a very unique and special way to God that no other person will ever take. All these ways pass through the cross at some point or another, but they are not all the same way. If you really want to take what I say out of context, I will be giving you SO much opportunity that this will really be my one and only sidenote in my defense. If you have any issues or problems with what I say, please, feel free to voice them in the comments area. I love to hear other opinions because it either helps me come to a better conclusion or strengths the one I already have. Either way, it make me better, so please, let me know where I go wrong. :D )

Anyway, moving right along. The other reason I don’t read theologically or philosophically inclined books is quite elementary. If it’s basic theology, then its something I have probably heard a million times before in Christian school, sermons, chapels, and Max Lucado books. Why on earth would I want to subject myself to mind numbing repetitious phrasing of the same basic phrases and thoughts, ESPECIALLY IF I ALREADY AGREE WITH IT!!!! And, if its not basic theology, and its some kind of strange, out there, new way of looking at and approaching the world, I will begin to argue with the author as I read through it, mainly because the only reason books like it (aka The Shack) are written is to ignite people into arguing about issues. Personally, I find that when I argue about things, when I am aggressive in my pursuit of knowledge, I become closed minded to what other have to say, defensive about what I have to say (irregardless if it is right or not), and in general, my spirit becomes grieved. Why on earth would I want to subject myself to that type of situation? Life is complicated enough already and has enough trials that I do not need to go creating any more for myself. I will not seek out aggression, aggravation, or give myself over to be manipulated by any author. The moment I detect it, I put the book down and take a step back. If it keeps happening, I stop reading the book altogether. Usually, but not always.

That covers the fist type of book. The ones with special knowledge, revelation, or outlook on life that they want to force everyone else to except. Obviously, the Holy Spirit can use the book to speak to a person’s life and bring correction. But the Holy Spirit can also use a sunrise, a billboard on the side of the highway, a commercial for Comcast, or even (God forbid!) a Michael Jackson song. It’s not about the source material, its ALL about our ability to discern the voice of the Holy Spirit in our lives. If we have that, then we can be in the middle of the desert, a million miles away from any written word, and we will read God’s revelation for our lives upon creation itself.

Moving right along, there are the other types of self help books in the Christian community, and I have slightly just touched on them with that last paragraph. The other type is the ones who say that they have knowledge or wisdom to help you either internally work through your own issues inside your own life, or externally work on your issues with other people you encounter. These are actual self help books.

(Okay, I promise this is the last side note, but basically, just have to say, that when you look at the basic premise of these self help books (fix internal/external) you realize that you don’t need any book other than the Bible. In fact, you don’t even need the whole Bible. All you need is two short phrases. Love God with everything you have. Love people like you love yourself. If you can do that, you won’t have any problems internally or externally. And I doubt I have ever met anyone who had even mastered those two simple things.)

As I just pointed out previously, when you are sensitive to the Holy Spirit, then God will reveal the areas in your life that you need to adjust. The amazing thing about the presence of God is that as you drawn near to Him, He draws closer to you, even if you can’t feel it, and when He draws near, the mountains melt, the islands are moved, the heavens roar, and we are rightly put in our place. Or, as one Biblical writer put it, all our righteousness becomes like filthy rags.

When we are actively pursuing God, we will become aware of His presence. The more we are in His presence, the more we realize just how wrong and messed up we are. The more we realize what we are doing wrong, the more we can stop doing it, and begin to do what is right. But once again, this only comes if we are sensitive to the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit will warn us when we are about to enter into temptation. The Holy Spirit will plead with us as we are making the decision to sin or not to sin. The Holy Spirit will convict us afterwards when we have sinned and point out exactly where we went off the path. And the Holy Spirit will guide us back to the straight and narrow. All this, and SO MUCH MORE, He is willing and able and waiting to do, and is doing even right now, all we have to do is be able to hear him. All we have to do is listen. Really listen. And if it all happens so organically when we are drawing close to God why would we need a self help book?

But the opposite is true too. If I was not actively seeking God, why on earth would I ever read a Christian self help book? As a Christian, I knew very well when my life is not on track. If I’m not working to fix it, it means I am running away from it, like Jonah. I am aware of what I am doing. I am aware that I am making mistakes and that I am not right with God. And in that place, I know that a Christian self help book would only convict me back on the right track. So why would I read it if I am purposely trying not to think about God?

So if my relationship with God is good, there is no need for a Christian Self Help Book. If my relationship with God is bad, there is no way I would read it. Therefore, a Christian self help book serves no purpose in my life. Maybe it’s different for other people. I can understand and respect that. But for me, personally, I prefer not to drink rock filtered, fluoride added, flavored water. I would much rather drink deep from the sweet, fresh, pure source, untouched by the taint of human thought or emotion. I would rather get insight directly from the Holy Spirit, in a way that is specifically applicable for what I am personally going through at this exact moment in time. I would rather have the Holy Spirit’s constant prodding and direction in orchestrating my life every second of every day, than have a manual telling me what I already know, that I forget as soon as I close its back cover.

But as I said before, these are all simply my opinions and how I understand the world, both the physical and the spiritual, to work in regards to my own life and my own journey. Maybe you see things differently. Maybe you have experienced different results and different feelings. Please, share them. I won’t make fun of you. I won’t ridicule or insult you. I probably won’t even respond to your comment. But if you don’t voice how you feel, then there may be errors that go uncorrected in my life and the lives of those who read this. And if no one disagrees with me on anything then it means I must be perfect and have a perfect understanding of this, which I most definitely am and do not. So, how do you personally feel about Christian Self Help Books?

Fools in our Lives

"Go from the presence of a foolish man when thou perceivest not in him the lips of knowledge." - Proverbs 14:7 (KJV)

"[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails." I Cor 13:7-8a (NKJV)

We all have them. Those friends, family members, or coworkers who are always making one bad decision after another. You know their kind: the ones who make decisions without thinking of the consequences, who live life as if the moment was all the existed, who regularly say and do things which are completely moronic and have no idea that they do. They are the ones who make Type B people look bad. They are what the Bible calls, fools.

Now, there's nothing wrong with a little foolishness now and again. Finding joy out of simplicity is one of the ways in which we, as humans, cope with the constant stress of actually being alert to our actions and words and their effects on others. The key difference is that for a fool, that foolish behavior and lack of foresight, has become such an integral part of who they are, that it is the source of their identity. They are not called the "farmer who does foolish things" or the "son who acts foolishly", they are called "fools" because that has become the entirety of their identity.

At this point, you probably have some names floating around in your head. I know I'm doing my best not to and still have them there. That is another consequence that being a fool has, and that they are so blissfully unaware of, that everyone they encounter can plainly tell that they are fools and that it will work to sabotage their lives and futures. In the long run, there really are no benefits that arise from being a fool.

So the question then becomes, how do we respond to these fools in our lives. Their actions set them on a course that leads to disaster. The Word makes it clear over and over again that the paths of fools leads to poverty, wickedness, and destruction. What are we, as Christians, suppose to do about them?

The Bible is interesting in that it provides two answers to this, the above verses. And like so many things in life that are more complicated than we truly realize, at first glance, it would seem that the two contradict each other. The one verse is a summation of the entire book of Proverbs, and any book of wisdom in the Bible (James, et al) which states that those who are wise should not waste their time on the fools. The other verse sums up what could be considered to sum up the books of grace (Pauline Epistles, Psalms, et al) when it states that our love for others should endure and bear all things. This presents a dilemma.

It is infinitely wiser to abandon a fool for the simple reason that they walk a different path than the wise. It is the same principle of being unequally yoked in any labor. A fool will waste a wise individual's time, and wasting time is one of the worst things we can do, since time is one of our most precious resources here on earth. The Bible talks a lot about "cast[ing] pearls before swine" and giving the "children's bread to the dogs", essentially, giving something of value to those who will never appreciate the value of it. A fool will waste your time, energy, and resources and will never even think about it. And that is only the beginning. Fools not only bring destruction into their own lives, but those around them as well. A wise person should follow the advice of Solomn when he says, "depart from a fool when you realize he lacks knowledge."

And yet, through all of these things, love can persevere. Love suffers for a very long time at the hands of the fools and is still kind to them. Love is not puffed up in its own conceited wisdom, and so does not think evil of anyone. Love reaches out to those who need it the most, regardless of their situation, position, or past. Love keeps no record of wrongs. Love stems from a root of grace, and so has grace for all. Love conquers all.

So which do we do then? Are we to love people regardless and persevere with them, or are we to recognize a fool for a fool, and depart from their ways which lead to destruction? Which path do we take: the path of wisdom or the path of love? In many places in scripture the two paths do diverge strongly. When one loves somebody, the way God loves them, you cannot help but be moved to some form of action. That is true love. Yet often the actions that are the fruit of love, are contradictory to what would be a wise use of time/energy/resource/life. God calls us to love but He also calls us to wisdom. So which is the better path then?

Like many things in life, the answer cannot be computed down to a simple binary yes/no. The Word talks often about loving someone enough to NOT interfere, to allow some chastisement to come into their life. Even God does it to us, allowing us to bear the consequences of some of our actions so we may learn from them and grow closer to Him. And similarly, when we have true wisdom, we cannot help but be moved to compassion when we gain understanding of the circumstances that often make a person a fool. No one truly chooses to be one. So we see that the situation is more complex than simply picking a path.

If we were to choose just one method of dealing with a fool, we would ourselves descend into foolishness. Essentially, most things, when kept in moderation and administered within the bounds of God established institutions, are beneficial to humans. It was not for naught that God said, "It is very good" when He was finished making the earth. What makes a fool is essentially their decision to overindulge in foolishness, until it becomes their very identity. They are out of balance. But to choose only one method of addressing them (as the problem), is equally as foolish.

The reason for this is simple. To live in our temporal world is to change. We equate life with it. Yes, there is still a measure of constance and endurance in many things, but one of the most sure things we are certain of on earth is that things always change. The best and most applicable example of this are the seasons. As they change, the world changes with them in their constant pattern. So also, we go through various seasons in our lives, and our fools go through seasons in their lives. Recognizing this is essential in deciding how to address them.

There will be times when we will have to take steps to help them, even when we feel we do not want to. There will be times when we will have to step back, even when we desperately want to intervene. God uses them and uses their situation in our lives to grow us, but only as long as we remain sensitive to His word. Sometimes He may ask us to do teh unwise thing, to allow them into a place in our heart and trust them in a way where they have let us down and hurt us before. As hard as it is, love keeps no record of wrongs. And that same love that drives us to take action, must sometimes be tempered with wisdom to recognize that inaction can be a form of action in and of itself, as a method to wait and let the Lord do what we cannot. In all of this, God dictates the seasons and God will dictate the path that we must take during it. Staying sensitive to His word and His will is what will ultimately guide us to the place where wisdom and love are united in our lives and in our actions.

"Call to me and I will answer and show you great and unsearchable things which you have not known." - Jeremiah 33:3 (NIV)

On Pacifism

On Pacifism

Pacifism, as an idea, as a concept, as a creed and a standard and a life defining principle, is essentially a reaction to war. Therefore, in order to understand pacifist and their reasoning one must first understand war and its reasoning. Only by grasping what pacifism is reacting to can one understand why it advocates for the things it does, why it has gained so much popularity, and why some individuals feel threatened by it.

War is a type of conflict, and therefore, before a full understanding of war can be grasped conflict must first be defined and understood. The reason why people, especially Christians, have an instant emotional reaction against pacifism often arises out of this failure to understand the nature of conflict.

Throughout human civilized history and society, there has existed an ideal tranquility or harmony that all civilized societies strove to reach. The ancient Egyptians named it Ma’at, the concept that there was a divine order that society needed in order to function. To abandon this concept of order, was to abandon civilization and would lead to chaos and uncertainty. This ordered, structured, societal neutral medium called civilization consists basically of the idea that one looks to one’s own (tribe/household/family/self) while allowing others to do likewise without interference.

However, this ideal structure of society begins to fall apart when one’s own interest or gain, comes at the expense or in competition, with that of another. This is the birth of conflict. Within all conflict there exists these two parties. The Initiator, is the party that decides to challenge the status quo of the ideal structure, and therefore strives to affect and change that. The second party, however, is just as vital to the creation of conflict, the Reactionary. The Reactionary is the kindling to the spark of the Initiator. Reactionaries may simply uphold the status quo, or be challengers of it as well, but in a manner in contest with the Initiator. Without either of these there is no conflict.

Since conflict is composed of these two parties, there then develops three ideal forms of conflict resolution. In the Socratic Model, both parties involved in conflict approach it with the intent of reaching a common ground/goal/good. In his model, Socrates implied that conflict should be aimed at reaching a resolution in which both parties “win”. This form of conflict resolution, the “win-win” form, often takes the most time and effort, things humans loath to part with, and so, is not commonly found in historical endeavors for resolution of conflicts.

In the Common Model of resolution, one party gains victory while the other is left to defeat. This is by far the most commonly used conflict resolution strategy as it takes less time, less effort, and allows for more aggression. The common form has often been the immediate response of humanity, because of the inherit selfishness of human nature, to simply demand or force ones own right or way, without thought or regard to the state of others/competitors/rivals. However, this form of conflict resolution is not particularly stable, as often the “loosing” party will not accept the “winners” new status quo and therefore, the “loosing” party will become Initiators in another conflict. This is clearly seen with the end of WWI, in which the Allied demands attached to the Treaty of Versailles not only drove the formation of the Axis power, but actually led to the rise of Hitlter’s power and then WWII. Therefore, the common model is prone to instability, although it is still the preferred method of conflict resolution.

The final model of conflict resolution is essentially war. During war, both parties, Initiators and Reactionaries, go into the conflict expecting to loose money, resources, and lives. When war is chosen as a model, it appears that its result is similar to the Common Model, “win-loose” but in fact, in war, there are no winners. Both Initiators and Reactionaries loose when war is the medium of conflict resolution. The reasoning behind it is as follows.

Firstly, during a war, lives are lost. There have been very few bloodless battles in history, and no bloodless wars, at least in what constitutes a war. Even the loss of a single life to a nation, people, tribe, group, or clan is disadvantageous. That one individual’s potential to aid society and humanity has been cut short. While it’s true that most soldiers would not end up being the next Socrates, Galileo, Leonardo Da Vinci, or Shakespeare, there is no certain way of guaranteeing that they aren’t. All individuals who have added to human culture and humanity as a whole have been just that, individuals. Therefore, the loss of a single individual, while often considered minute, may in fact be the greatest loss a society, people group, or nation suffers. Many great writers, painters, poets, philosophers, thinkers, inventors, sculptors, and engineers have all had military service, and had they been killed in battle, their life’s work would not have been left for us today.

In relation to this, there has never been a time when the cost of war was only felt by the Initiators and Reactionaries. The cost of war, emotionally, physically, mentally, and developmentally has always impacted spectators, civilians, bystanders, children, and those who had no part in the conflict. Children especially have suffered because of war. Whether they have been the children of soldiers killed in battle, left to grow up without a parent, or the children who are raped, killed, enslaved, tortured, or brutalized as “spoils” of war. While many societies have attempted to curb this cost on the innocent with codes of war (Samurai code, Chivalric code, Geneva Convention, etc.) historically their attempts have failed. Even today that is clearly seen in the “spoils of war” that American troops collected when they took over the Abu-Grebe prison and its political prisoners, many of whom were Christians who had been sent there by Saddam Hussein. The impact of war on children has further repercussions, as they are then desensitized to violence at a young age and brought up in a culture in which war and revenge are then portrayed as the socially acceptable means of conflict resolution. This then leads to further wars, and creates a never-ending cycle.

This illustrates another aspect in which the War Model of conflict resolution fails. All conflict is meant to have an end. The purpose of conflict is goal orientated, namely, for either one or both parties to change the status quo and thereby become “winners”, by attaining a different status quo or reaching a place where the current status quo is now acceptable. Whoever, because of War’s affect in creating two sides who both feel the status quo is unacceptable, this makes war endless. Current conflicts in North and South Korea, as well as in Pakistan, Afganhistan, Darfur, Sudan, and Iraq all illustrate this, as they have no foreseeable end. In the example of the War in Iraq, the more the war goes on, the more the militant forced in Iraq are justified in their struggle and the more they fight. The more of them the US kills, the more their children take up arms against the US in retaliation. The more US soldiers they kill creates a greater sympathy for the war, and justifies it in the political system and the general public’s eye, thereby increasing troop numbers. Theoretically, the only way for a war to actually end is for one side to completely wipe out the other side, thereby establishing their dominance without leaving anyone that can retaliate. Obviously, this is not an acceptable model of conflict resolution.

Even historically, wars have been endless. An example is the war between the English and the Irish, which is still going on from its inception in the early 12th century. It has been officially declared and officially ended time and time again, however, neither side has ever reached a place of forgiveness, and instead retaliation and revenge by the unacceptable status quo enforced afterward has caused its most recent incarnation, the Irish Troubles, to end with an uneasy peace and a renewal of conflict soon afterwards. Like all other wars, this 800 year long war has found most of its casualties in the form of innocent civilians.

To return to the larger issue, many people have ideas that all conflict is either good or bad. To believe that all conflict is good, means that peace and tranquility is undesirable. To believe all conflict is bad, means that submission and injustice must be tolerated. Neither of these situations are acceptable, because neither of them come from an understanding of what conflict is. As shown above, there are many forms of conflict, some more desirable and affective than others. Conflict comes from humans and so it has the very human nature to be either good or bad, depending on how it is used.

Conflict can end oppression. Conflict can heal old wounds. Conflict can actually be the vehicle for greater peace, understanding, and love in a society. However, conflict can bring death, destruction, misunderstanding, great harm, great injustice, great oppression, and great hate. Conflict is neither good nor evil. To turn to conflict as an answer to all problem or to shun its use completely are both foolish ways of using it. Conflict is a tool. It is up to humanity to decide whether to build bridges or break heads with it.

War is a type of conflict in which there is no resolution. War is a type of conflict in which there is no healing. War is a type of conflict in which neither party is, as Socrates put it, searching for common understanding and mutual enlightenment to understand a problem and overcome it. War is a cheap out with a great expense. War is the easy path, which leads to suffering that never ends. War is by nature, not a good form of conflict resolution.

That doesn’t mean that there have not been some good side affects of war. Wars have general increased nationalism, which in some areas have led to increased culture and art, though heavily influenced by propaganda and government censorship. Wars have also stimulated economies which were on the verge of self destruction. However, in the current global economic market, that is no longer a viable way of economic reform, as wars no longer increase production, only expenses. Wars have at times temporarily alleviated the human situation, as found at the end of WWII, with the stop of Hitler’s eradication of the Jewish, disable, immigrant, homosexual, and Christian sections of European population. However, wars are at their core profit, not principle, motivated. As for alleviating the human situation, other forms of conflict have shown much greater progress with lasting change, such as the boycotts of the civil rights movement in the USA, or the hunger protests led by Ghandi for Indian Independence.

For all these reasons and many more, War is not a rational decision to make. For something to be a purely rational decision, the benefits must outweigh the costs. There are very few benefits that come from war, and even less that have lasting impact. The true cost of war is incalculable in that the effects and repercussions of wars last for generations. Even just a purely financial cost for wars is uncountable, in the amount of potential economic stimulus lost by the lives lost, brain drain affect by lives lost and defectors during war time, and resources depleted with minimal or no gain. And then that is just the beginning, as future conflicts that arise from the treaties made at the end of wars in order to cover part of the massive expenses then lead to further wars whose expenses can then be traced to that war and should be included as a cost of that war. Some people may quip at the “money wasted by NGOs such as the UN” but compared to the cost of war, it is a very minute price to pay. War is an irrational decision as the cost is just too great.

While war is irrational, it is also not simply an emotional reaction. Emotionally, war is traumatic. War is brutal. It involves massive amounts of death, carnage, destruction, hatred, anger, aggression, fear, and repression. Emotionally, war is one of the unhealthiest things a person can do. Those leaders who start wars no longer take part in them, for a very good reason. They need the emotional distance to make the decision they make. If they knew each soldier they sent into battle personally, and had to watch as they died, they would probably commit suicide or go insane. From a psychological stand point, in order to “make” a soldier who can act under the pressure of war and deal with the amount of emotional trauma that any normal, healthy, human would experience during battle, the person’s mind, will, and emotions must be completely broken down and rebuilt so that they see the entire world from a dualistic paradigm, therefore breaking down where they may question what is right and wrong, and on a mental level, giving them the same kind of psychological barrier to face reality that is found in serial killers. They perform essentially the same activities, and require the human mind to be insulated in the same way otherwise they would not be able to carry out their acts. This is not to perjorate soldiers, but to show that aside from those mental barriers of dualism, which say that anyone who isn’t on my side is my enemy and is evil and deserves to die, the only type of human being who would be able to wage war would be a psychopath or sociopath whose mind is already unable to register empathy or human suffering. War is therefore not emotionally acceptable to healthy human beings either.

If war is neither logical nor emotionally driven, then why do individuals go to war? Many have postulated that it seems to be the only answer humanity has had for a long time. Since ancient Egyptian times, when they worshiped the tranquil order or Ma’at, humans have viewed war as being a last resort of sorts, when all others fail, in order to preserve ourselves, our culture, and our tranquility. War has been labeled a necessary evil in order to preserve the greater good. In tribal or Abrahamic times, this may very well have been the case, that people had no other choice but to choose violence as a means of self defense and self preservation. However, during those times people also trekked from place to place in a nomadic lifestyles, herded goats, lacked toilets and toilet paper, did not brush their teeth, married at young ages, died at younger ages, killed girl children when they wanted sons, had none of our modern conveniences, could not read, and in general lived and functioned much differently then we do today. To justify war based on tribal times would be equivocal to justify infanticide based on those same practices at those same times. Humanity is set apart from animals in that we progress. We are not the same we were 2,000 years ago, or 200 years ago or even 20 years ago. Why should our method for dealing with conflict remain the same?

Pacifism may be taken too far in some cases, with people who will not allow any kind of conflict. However, that is not true pacifism. That is simply a person who struggles with people pleasing and who wants to make everyone happy. A pacifist knows there are times to be an Initiator of conflict, but that they will remain in control of the conflict they initiate, that they will not allow it to progress into a lesser form of conflict resolution. They seek to allow not only themselves to benefit from the resolution, but everyone, the Reactionary and even non-participants. A true pacifist see the need to take their eyes of their own situation and circumstance, and understand the other parties involved in the conflict too. A pacifist draws a wider circle around themselves, taking care not only of their own, but of everyone. We are not tribal anymore. We build larger buildings that last longer. We have larger cities that look grander. We make larger plans for the distant future. Can we not, then, take a larger view when it comes to conflict? Can we not recognize that everyone is human? That everyone wants to win? That everyone wants that Ma’at, that peace? There was a time when this was merely a dream. But no more. We have the UN. We have ambassadors. We have cultural ties. We have no more excuses to go to war.

A Note on Christians and Pacifism

From a Christian stand point, there is even further evidence of the need for pacifism. While the Old Testament was full of warriors who killed the enemies of God, we find in the New Testament that our weapons are not carnal but meant to cast down spiritual strongholds. We wrestle not against flesh and blood but against spiritual things. Make no mistake, there is a time for peace and a time for war, but that time for war is a spiritual war when we are called to step out and take authority and break the strongman, e.g. Satan and his forces. Even in the Old Testament times, God said that David could not build His house because he was a man of bloody hands. Jesus commands us to love our enemies, bless them that curse us, and do good to those that despitefully use us or persecute us. We are commanded to turn the other cheek, to forgive, to love. The Early Church, which was suppose to be the closest example of what Jesus wanted the church to be like, would pray for and love their persecutors even as they were persecuted. They did not fight back. They submitted. They loved. They died. And there were added thousands to their numbers daily because of it. The Bible makes it clear, he who lives by the sword will die by it. Even if the world does not accept pacifism, we as Christians should, as it was one of the clear principles established not only by the New Testament writers but by Jesus himself. All of the reasons for war are discredited by the Bible. We are not to take revenge because vengeance is our Gods. We are not to defend ourselves because the glory of the Lord will be our rear guard. We are not to worry about tomorrow, what it will bring or how we will defend ourselves because the Lord our God, Jehova-Jireh will provide a defense. And as Paul writes, we are to have a perspective that to live is Christ and to die is gain. Not that we are to seek death (especially in warfare) but that we are to keep that perspective that life is temporal and loving people is the only thing that lasts. One of the key emotions that justifies war is fear. God has not given us a spirit of fear but of love, power, and a sound mind. A sound mind, as has been shown above, would not accept war. The Bible makes it clear, war and violence are two things that came to the cross and did not go through it. They are part of an older system that we need to leave at the cross and instead pick up love, forgiveness, and the peace of the Lord which surpasses all understanding.

Life

All the world's a mirror
All people wear blindfolds
All the sky is pale grey
All the sunset grow so cold

Who will dare to listen
Who will dare to do
To take off these weary facemask
And see the reality of you?

No one likes to see the truth
No one likes to know their lies
Yet finding true fulfillment
Starts with opening our eyes

To see our lives for what they are
To see the hearts behind our hands
To follow the threads of reason
Into our past, those cold and distant lands

Who will dare to listen
Who will dare to do
To take off these weary facemask
And see the reality of you?

Follow threads of raw emotion
To the secret place of pain
From where springs wrath and envy
From where you flinch at a name

Why do you do what you do?
Why do you seek that one thing?
Why have you still not gotten it?
When will your life truly begin?

Dare to find the secret pain
Hidden deep within your soul
Dare to seek and find a way
To heal the wound and become whole

The things you do without thinking
The things you think without just cause
These are the triggers the subtle hints
They should be considered, take a moment and pause

Find them out in the dark places
Bring them to the glorious light
Let healing and forgiveness enter
Do not resist it, do not fight

When you know why you do what you do
Then you can decide to stop of keep going
But either way, with more self discovery
You'll feel yourself start growing

So look, look, follow those clues
Find them, in your past's dark halls
Expose them to the light of truth
And no longer answer their silent calls

Take charge of your life
Live each day for your King
Laugh loud, run fast, breathe deep
And learn, with all your heart, to sing

The Lament of the Depths

Where are their eyes,
blackened by ink?
Veiled is the ocean
In inches they think

Numb is the heart
Beaten for sound
Grey are the days
When only inches are found

The shovel lies there
The pick and the axe
No hand holds them now
All just relax

Let benelity rule
Riches cast to the sea
No light to linger on my words
Washed away eternity

What the Whispers Said

Alrighty... so here is one of those times were I started a short story with NO IDEA where it was going. And then, it took an unexpected turn, and ended up in the most bizaar place ever!!! So, feel free to comment and write a better ending, or at least better idea of how it could have ended.

**********************************************************************

What the Whispers Said

It began in midnight’s dark. I guess I should say something ominous or dramatic such as that. But really, it was just another night. An ordinary night. The wind didn’t howl, the rain didn’t beat, the sky was not torn by lightning or thunder. No, meteorologically, all was still, a soft, dulling fog laying gently over the entire town and probably over the towns around us too.

But even though it was an ordinary night, I guess you could say it was extraordinary. It was, after all, the night it began. It was late, too late, and I stumbled wearily to my cold bed, falling on the lumpy pillow and pulling the rumpled sheets over me. I lay there in the still, softness of the night, my weariness leaking out of my soul and into the mattress.

As I lay there, I was faintly, ever so faintly, aware of the sounds of the night. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The distant sloshing of the dishwasher in the far off kitchen. The sound of the house’s timbers creaking ever so softly as age sagged upon them. From the street the sound of a car passing on the road was barely even registered in my brain. The sounds of the night in the suburbs of the city were soothing, a blanket of white noise to comfort the strained and wearied mind. And then I heard it.

It was like a creak. A creak were there wasn’t suppose to be one. A creak too loud to be the house’s timber for at least another decade or so. The creak was an out of place creak. As if someone’s foot had fallen suddenly outside my door. At first I was sure that was the case. But who? I got up immediately and walked to the door, but found that it, and the hallway and the room beyond, were all empty. In fact, I was the only being awake in the house.

I went back to bed, and that was that. Until the next night came. This time, the sound was not a creak, but a rustle. As if leaves were in my room, being blown by unseen wing across unseen pavement on an unseen fall day. It was winter. There were no dry leaves left to scammer anywhere. Especially not in my room in the middle of the night.

I sat, staring at the ceiling, breath short as I listened trying in vain to reason away the rustling leaves. Finally, the leaves faded and the white noise again took over. And so I slept. But even then, my dreams were haunted by the creaking and the rustling and a strange whispering voice, barely touching on the edges of my mind.

The next day went well, and the following week’s evenings were all uneventful and nothing else happened. It seems as if it was all something I could just file away in the back regions of my mind, left to be forgotten with a host of other strange occurrences and coincidences. But it was not meant to be. Because the next night, everything I knew changed.

I lay in bed, my heavy lids sinking lower and lower once more. But even as my eyes began closing I heard it again. The creak was loud this time, as if a tree branch outside was readying itself to fall into my room. Even though there were no large tree’s anywhere near the house. And so I simply lay there and waited and listened. And as I listened, the rustling also came and in the rustling of the leaves, a hollow voice, as if someone was gently whispering.

“Another one, dead.” said the rustling voice.

“At this rate, we will be forced to do something drastic and soon.”

“Whose there?” I asked fearfully towards the darkness above me.

“Do you ever get a feeling that the humans speak at just the right moment, making it seem as if they could hear us?”

“Don’t give it another thought! They can’t hear us. There hasn’t been one of their kind in many centuries that could hear us.”

“Um… actually I can. Whose there?” I asked apprehensively my entire body beginning to shake with fear.

Both gasped and they fell to silent whispering for a few moments as I simply lay there, quivering and trying to reason with myself. I was sure that I had gone crazy, off the deep end for sure. I was hearing voices, in an empty room, in the middle of the night. And they were deliberating whether they should continue speaking with me. Obviously something was not right.

“Human, if you can hear us, stand up and walk out of your house.” said the creaking voice.

“Hurry! Hurry! You must if you can hear us! Before someone else speaks!” spoke the rustle with urgency.

So slipping into my robe and hurriedly sticking my feet into slippers, I scampered out the front door and tripped over the stairs, falling with a hard smack into the grass. As I lay there, I heard the voices this time, louder and with much more force. There also sounded like more voices were with them this time, all speaking at once.

“Whose there? What do you want?!” I remember calling as I stood up.

“He can hear us? He can hear us?” The voices all called one after another, the cacophony growing louder and louder as I threw my hands over my ears, spinning a round and round.

“What’s going on?” I faintly remember the words from beyond the noise.

But that was all. I remember, thought it’s like a dream, so I it might not even be true. But I remember being held down. I remember voices, and yelling, and then flashing lights. I remember someone talking to me. Someone telling me I could let go of my ears. But I couldn’t because of the voices. They even made me take my hands off, and it nearly killed me.

And so I sat here, still and quiet, the voices finally gone. Well, almost. There remained one. She spoke like all the voices together, as one, all speaking in perfect harmony and unity. When she spoke to me, the fear melted, and my soul became still and soft as I waited for her to continue.

“Son of man.” She called me.

“Yes. I am here.”

“Long have your kind dwelt upon me. Long have I and my children cried unto you. Long have we called to you to stop.”

“Who are you?”

“Some of your kind call me Mother. Though, I was not the one to give birth unto you.”

“So why can I hear you, and no one else?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe you have a part to play.”

“In what?”

“There is a great war coming. Long as we called unto mankind have we also sharpened our swords and spears. The war will come soon.”

“So you mean, all of nature, against mankind? But how?”

“You will know soon enough. For now, I will set you free. A way will be made for you. You shall become our voice to them that rule over us.”

And even as she spoke, a small tendril of some kind of vineing plant grew into the window and curled around me. Its vines wrapped around more and more, and began searching. They found the clasp on the jacket, and freed me. Then the ground shook, and the walls quaked. The two walls suddenly jerked and fell towards each other, making a small V shaped cavity, protecting me from the rubble falling all around.

And then the ground seemed to sink away, like waves pulling back from the ocean. The vine lowered me down into the darkness. And so it happened and so I was saved from my own kind, to be the herald, the bringer of the war. I walked many years through secret glades no man knew of, ate of fruit that no man had ever tasted, long kept from our kind. And now that the years are done, she has sent me back. She sent me back with this message to all my fellow men.

“War is upon you! Too long have you stood, rulers and conquerors over nature. But nature has not lain silent in waste, oh no. She has been waiting, watching, testing to see how strong you are. And now her time has come. Fear humans, for her vengence is swift like the fingers of lightning in the storm. Her wrath is great, like the fires of the dark places that burn at the very hearts of the mountains. And her hand will wash away all the works of man, like the waves of the deep. Fear, dispare, and surrender!”

A Fragile Thing

Love, like a glass bird,
Wants to try
Wants to fly
Wants to open up our eyes
To show the things kept deep inside
Love, it hates to hide
But Love, like a glass bird,
Falls so easy
Breaks so freely
Fragile glass, that makes hearts cry
Why, O why, Lord, is love made
Of glass and not of steel
Look! Love, the glass bird,
Held so dear
With much fear
They had it, kept it without care
Now broken glass is all they bare
Love, it hates to hide
So, Love, oh my glass bird
Sing you may
But you will stay
No flying free, not yet, not yet,
Almost, wait, just a little bit
Once wings stronger, only then
Love is like a glass bird
Keep it safe
Keep it near
Until its wings have grown and come,
Then let it fly, now without fear
For Love is a fragile thing

**************************************

Some recent events in my life have had my thoughts of late brooding on love, its application and its process. As my mind dwelt upon the topic, I began reviewing all the recent affairs of love in my immediate circle of friends, taking special note of their haste or lack thereof, and came to the conclusion that while love, a secret thing of the heart, strives to make itself known as soon as possible, desires above all else to be set free into the air. And yet, it is so fragile, that if one is not careful with it, it will shatter and break. Thus, and by numerous other side branches of thought on the topic, the analogy came upon me that love is like a glass bird.

While I do enjoy the first five or six lines, after that the chaos that the meter falls into I detest greatly. However, those begining lines would not leave me be until I had provided for them substantial relations and cousins enought to support them in poetic format. Afterwards, I could not bare myself to attempt a correction of the work, and so I present it here for you in its rough and unaltered state.

Good Evening,
The Author

The Wanderer

The Wanderer
by Kahlil Gibran

Wow, amazing! I just had to get that out there first before I continued. Gibran's collection of short stories is very impressive. While most are only the length of a page they are so masterfully told that in their sweet simplistic ways, the secrets and meaning of the universe is revealed. He was definitly a master story teller. His style, while consideriby higher in tone, voice, and vocabulary than today's standard, was actually plain and unadorned compared to his contemporaries that lived during the turn of the century.

The content is most wholesome, having truth, wisdom, and light woven in between the lines of the words. His story are more accurately parables in many ways because of the deeper meaning they carry inside of them.

Over all reading him is very relaxing, almost calming. Its unlike most things you will ever read, no complex words and vocabulary to get stuck on. No over complication of the issues and problems. And yet, captivating all the same. His style is minimilism at its finest, but the message behind the words carry hope.

While content and style were up to par, he brought something fresh and new to the reading experiance and was able to surprise me greatly, and because of this the Wanderer gets 7 out of 5 stars. For going above and beyond any expectations.

If you have not read this yet you have to!

Here is an example of one of his stories:

The Shadow

Upon a June day the grass said to the shadow of an elm tree, "You move to right and left overoften, and you disturb my peace."
And the Shadow answered and said, "Not I, not I. Look skyward. There is a tree that moves in the wind to the east and to the west, between the sun and the earth."
And the grass looked up, and for the first time beheld the tree. And it said in its heart, "Why, behold, there is a larger grass than myself."
And the grass was silent.


So you see, a foot wide, but a mile deep. If you are an intelligent person, he makes for great reading. Because no matter how many times you read what he wrote, you will always find some new and deeper meaning of his meaning of his words. And thats why I recommend Kahlil Gibran to everyone who enjoys the long forgotten past time of pondering and thinking. :D

The Compass

There once was a sailor who sailed the seas,
And endured many storms with grace and ease
And the sailor’s wisdom was hard earned
For the lesson were all from error learned.

One day their ship came into a port
The captain took a new hand for the navigational work
The brown haired boy seemed young and unsure
And the older sailor his company endured.

The storm came suddenly from out of sight,
The waves were like mountains, the wind blew with its might
The warm tropical rains drenched them to the bone,
Then said the sailor as they felt lost and alone.

“Now listen lad, hold fast and don’t fear.
For in weather like this many opinions you’ll hear,
Some to go this way and some to go there,
‘Seek the safety of this isle’ or ‘the comfort right here’.

But I know these seas, like the back of me hand,
And there’s no port better than in my homeland,
It’s as dear to me as my own dear sister,
And I’ve missed it almost as much as I’ve missed her.”

But the ship’s captain was of another mind,
“There’s shoals in these waters, another way we must find!
For the only safe passage is to the far south,
And there is a bay at the river’s mouth.”

“But in this storm wit it’s inky cloud cover,
We can’t see the stars, we must go to the other!”
The sailor called from the wisdom so true,
And the lad, the navigator, knew not what to do.

“Listen lad! You know I am wise,
And if stars there were I could read the skies!
But they are covered by the clouds of the storm,
So go to my land,” the sailor warned.

“Boy you know what course I have planned,
And if you follow it we shan’t be unmanned,
But fear not when the storm block the skies,
For I gave you something they can’t see with their eyes.”

And at the captain’s words, the lad did recall,
He would never be lost for he had something so small,
A metal circle that hung over his heart,
The captain had given with the navigational chart.

“We shall sail south for the Captains says so,
And my compass as well points to it, I know.
And sorry I am, dear sailor wise and true
For I have made my decision, but will always respect you.”

Now this doth drip deep with much allegory,
But only the wise can perceive the hidden story.

The Belgariad

The Belgariad
Vol. 1 & 2
By David Eddings

The Belgariad follows the life of a young boy, Garion, as he tags along with his aunt and grandfather, two sorcerors, as they journey to gather various people needed to stop an ancient evil from returning. Along the way Garion also finds out more about himself and what he really is. I won't say anything else at all because the story is too good to spoil.

The style of writing is simple and easy, but the descriptions of the people and places are so well done that you don't feel that the over complicated words are even needed. One thing about his writing that is amazing is that even the most minor characters have a story and a part in the plot. You connect with everyone. In the same way the no person in real life is ever really a minor character, so also even the most insignificant seeming person has a story, a part in the main conflict. It is probably the reason I liked the books the most.

As for content, just to be warned, the book is not a children's book and does deal with some more mature themes. Nothing explicitly inappropriate, more just a few cultural practices in some of the countries they visit. A subtle theme in the books was that each villain personifies and is overthrown because of one of the deadly sins, lust being one of them. Also, the book does included magic, which may make some people uncomfertible. It does distinguish between sorcerors and magicians. Sorcerors, the good guys, are said to use something more like the 'force' in Star Wars, while Magicians, called the godless ones, try to control demons in order to affect their serroundings. In the books, one such magician is torn apart by his demon, as a way of making teh dangers involved explicit. Because of these two main things some may feel uncomfertible reading it or may choose not to. Luckily the story is not accesory to these themes, the themes are to the story.

In conclusion, the plot is amazing, the style is great, the themes are right on, the characters are the best I have ever seen, and the content, while having some questionible parts, does not affect the overall reading experiance. It is the most realistic fiction book I have read. And personally, I liked it.

Five Stars!!!

The Reality of Brutality

The cold grey rain fell in long sheets, pelting the thousands of warm bodies that were heaving, sending a mist up from their ranks as they watched and waited. The grassy meadow had been turned into a muddy quagmire of sucking, grey earth, embedded with sharp stones and hard rocks threatening to bite into the exposed calves of the men in the plaid kilts.

From the other side of the misty, steaming cloud bank a lone drum roll like a death rattle echoed and rebound about the arena of death. Then the first soldier in his bright red uniform of murder came into view of the expecting armies. He was joined by rank after rank of men in uniforms stained red by the dyes from far conquered lands and the blood of the conquered. Their step was steady; their eyes cool and sharp, disdain painted upon their faces for the savages they faced, the ones they knew were their brothers.

The wild men, unbound and free, painted in the greens and blacks of their beloved forest raised their weapons to the pale white disc of the sun that could barely be seen behind its veil of grey smoke, asking blessings of their sky father in their pagan tongues. The young cadets from the red armies, inexperienced and scared crossed themselves, calling upon their holy mother for protection. One looked one last time upon the image of a beloved, a beauty painted upon a small portrait inside a locket kept at his heart. Another licked his lips, eager for his first taste of blood, all of heaven heaping curses upon his damned soul.

Then the drum stopped. The soldiers awaited their commands, fingers upon their muskets. The wild men felt their blood begin to boil, recalling every evil they had ever heard of their captors and even some they hadn’t until the consuming rage rang in their ears as blood rushed into their hands and hate into their souls. They screamed their hatred to the clouds and began their charge for the murders before them.

The soldiers in red lowered their weapons at the command of the commanders and took aim at the painted targets. The call came, the trump sounded, and with a cascade of explosions and puffs of smoke, boiling lead burned into the bodies of the charging wild men. Their blood flowed into the muddy field, their bones broken, their mouths foaming with pure rage and hatred.

The soldiers lowered their weapons and reloaded as the next rank stood. The green men were closer and had raised crude shields to deflect some of the artillery. Some were lucky and others fell coughing on blood onto the field. Then the wild ones were within range of the red ones and arrows flew with deadly accuracy. Arrow shafts pierced soft skin, stones broke noses and arms, the murdered now the murderers themselves. The soldiers and the wild men met with a clash of metal swords and oaken clubs.

Screams and yells echoed throughout the meadow, steam rising from dead and decaying bodies, weak and wounded fighters, the enraged and blood stained as they continued the slaying and the cullings. The sword tasted the blood of fathers, sons, and husbands, the club crushed the dreams, memories, and futures of the young cadets. In a single afternoon, the meadow ran red with the blood of thousands of murderers and murdered.

Then there was a calm. The fighting ceased, the murderers returned to their camps on the sides of the meadow. And then the hell began. The cries of the dying upon the battlefield, of the boys bidding farewell to sweethearts, of men calling for their children, longing desperately for their homes and their loved ones and the warm meals.

A group of generals from the wild men ascended the hill and met with the commanders of the red army neath their canopy. The orchestrators, the leaders, the planners were all together and as they sat listing to the symphony of human agony, they smoked their cigars together and remarked upon the growing dusk of the world; how blue the hour painted the receding clouds.

And then all stopped their smoking and talking. The pale full moon had appeared behind the clouds, a hallo of purity surrounding her as she illuminated the lone figure. A man, dressed as peasant, moved from soldier to soldier with his bucket and ladle. Death has a curious effect upon the human body, it creates a great thirst. And this man, the man in white, moved from person to person and gave them a final drink of cool spring water before they were claimed by death’s icy hand.

He worked his way up the hill, towards where the group beneath the canopy sat smoking. He continued ladling the water, the harden soldiers weeping at their angel as they gave up the breath. Then when he came near the canopy the generals realized he made no distinction between wild man and red soldier.

“You there! Man, what are you doing!”

“Sir, the men are thirsty.”

“But why do you give all drink?”

“I have no quarrel with these men. They are all my brothers and they all need. How could I refuse them?”

“Don’t you realize that blood alone moves the wheels of history!?!”

“Don’t you realize that winning a war is like winning an earthquake… you don’t.”

The commander thought upon the words of the young man as he continued ladling to the dying. His moustache twitched slightly and he motioned with his left hand. Two soldiers came forward and two shots rang out clearly across the evening sky. Water and blood mingled upon the field as the odor of death began to spread.

“Hmm. War is the most profitable industry we have. Only those stupid enough to get in the way of the mighty pocketbook need concern themselves with the… cost.”

If you give a girl some flowers...

If you give a girl some flowers, she'll probably want some chocolate to go with it. If you give a girl some chocolate, she'll want to go out for dinner. When you make the reservation, she'll realise she has nothing to wear, and so you'll have to take her shopping at Nortstroms. After she's picked out a dress, she'll realise she needs new heels to go with it, and so you'll need to go down to the shoe department. If you buy a girl new shoes, she'll probably want to get a pedicure too. And once you take her to get a pedicure, she'll NEED a manicure as well. And once her manicure is done, she'll also need a facial. And if you give a girl a facial, she'll probably want to get a new haircut/stye too. And once she's done with her hair, she'll nottice her earings don't match her eye liner so she'll need some new earings too. And if a girl gets new earings, she'll need a matching necklace. And as you're leaving the jewelry store, she'll probably see the time on one of the quartz watches and realise you need to get to the restaurant for the reservation. And once you get to the restuarant she'll want a candle lit dinner with live violins. And once the violins start playing, she'll want the perfect end to the perfect night, so you'll have to have bought a ring in advance. And if you give a girl an engagement ring, chances are she'll want some flowers to go with it. ;)

Happy Anniversity to Me!!!

Yay! This month is the one year anniversity of my blog! And if you've been keeping count (because I know you guys are *wink*) this is also my 100th post. Yay for blogging!

And I should be back to blogging more regularly, chapters included, now that I have learned how to say no to facebook's lure. Seriously I can spend hours just looking at flair not to mention the million and one other applications you can upload!!! No wonder parents thought facebook was of the devil when it firt came out! lol!!

So yeah, to kick off another great year of blogging and another great 100 posts, I'm resharing my top three posts... er, or at least listing them.

#3.Potted Plants 11/07 - Not sure why, it just always appealed to me.
#2.The Battle of the Great Ice Sheet 04/08 - the one that got me writing the story again, thanks to two girls who got intrested...;)
#1.Come Away With Me 9/08 - Don't know why but this must be one of my favorite poems... and it totally just came to me! lol! Literally, I sat down at my computer and I thought "A rhyme with the words, Come Away with me, would be really cool." And then suddenly this rhyme was just there! I wish all poetry and writing came that easily... but then again I wish life came easier too. Oh well, we can dream. :)

So those are my top three. Care to share any that you liked and why? Please. :) I'm not begging for comments. Thats what I have the voices inside my head for... precious.
;)

A Question to my Readers?

While I'm still rewriting the first chapters, do you guys want me to post the history to the world? I have it written in two sections so far.

And So America Went Down the Crapper...

Wow, I never thought it would happen this way. Excuse me for my very politically themed posts recently but, hey politics are everywhere these days. So, have you heard about HR 1424 aka The Emergency Economic Stablizaion Act of 2008? Oh, you mean that thing on the side collumn of the paper this morning? YES!!!

Basically tonight I am glad I am not a US citizen. Sorry but its the truth. Tonight history was made and Bush offcially became the worst president ever. He signed in the HR 1424 into law. What does that mean to the average american?

FIRST A HISTORY LESSON - Investors on Wall Street got greedy. As they always do. They made some very risque investments, and a lot of them. Meanwhile, home owners weren't reading the fine print about adjustible morgage rates. So the lending isntitutes, who also wanted more and more money, adjusted the rates. Many Americans could not pay the new rates so instead of doing something productive the Fed cut intrest rates. That didn't help anyone except the companies that the Fed Board of Directors owned. So then the lending institutes weren't getting their money and went bankrupt. This led to large scale unemployment and a drop in the stock market. Thats were we are now. Well the stock market dropped and then Bush said, "I will pass a Bill to help fix teh market." And it rose very slightly at this. Then the bills were proposed and rejected. The Markets tumbled like they haven't tumbled in decades. This led everyone to crying "Economic crises!"

SO WHAT? - Well this meant that there had to come a bill now because Wall Street was expecting it. The problem was that the Bill, HR 1424 would fix the markets through taxpayer money. Thats right your money will be used to help all those poor million dollar CEO who lost a few shares because they were greedy get even more back.

Why else is the bill bad? Well, lets start with the obvious fact that the bill is not endorsed by anyone other than people who have large scale investments in lending companies such as Goldman Sachs. All the other politicians, investors, financial advisors, etc are aposed to it. Not just that but the majority of economist from across teh nation's universities, people that study this kind of situation and the response to it for a living, made a petition and had it signed by nealry 300 diffrent heads in the course of a day, ALL APOSED TO IT SAYING IT WILL HAVE WORSE RESULTS THAT WILL LAST FOR GENERATIONS!!!

Plus there is the fact that it has this one small clause that says that the money will all be administered by the Secretary of the Treasury (aka Bush's employee) and that he will not be able to be held accountible by any judiciary board or senate comitee for his decisions. That is a lot of power for one person. $700billion in taxpayer money that he doesn't ever have to answer for. BTW he is a majority share holder in one of those lending companies (Goldman Sachs).

Oh, and if this wasn;t all bad enough, the US deficit will now rise to almost $12 trillion dollars in 2009. Meanwhile your GDP is falling because of all these mortgage and financial crises. Last year it was around $13 trillion. Your annual debt is almost equal to your annual income. That is a scary thought for a nation. Think about it.

And thats why I said that on this night, America went down the crapper!

A Post About A Debate About A VicePresident

Okay! If you missed the vice presidential debates tonight you have probably missed the best ones in the last 20 years! At least thats what all the old people are saying. And these are my thoughts on it.

First off, congradulations to Gov. Sarah Palin, you didn't completely blow it like everyone thought you would! Maybe now everyone will forget that embaressing interview with Katie Curic. :)

Oh, and congrats Biden for winning the actual debate. Didn't see that one coming. LOL

Now, first of Gov. Palin. When she spoke she drew you in, she captivated you with her phrases, jokes, eyes, and warm smile. She spoke with so much truth and conviction that you almost wanted to answer the alter call. The only problem was that afterward, sitting back and thinking about what she said, you'd realise that it made no logical sense.

Examples: She said she wanted to pay teachers and educators much more, yet later said she was going to move to tax much less... how does that work, especially when you want to keep the wars in afganistahn, pakistan, and iraq going?

She also said that they were going to tax less and thereby make more jobs... yet thats exactly what bush did and it caused an 8 month employment drop. How does that work? Pixie dust "aint gonna cut it".

Sen. Biden spoke with clear confidence and wisdom that echoed the many long ages he has served on Capitol hill. He shared stories and ancedotes from years back. He showed his vast knowledge by being abel to recite variouse bill initiatives, and teh people for ang against it, thereby showing he may be almost as old as McCain but at least he can still rember stuff. Too bad that after listening to him, you realise, wait, didn't he say the exact same thing last week?

Yup, thats right, he's a repeat offender. He had nothing original to say. Same old blah blah blah. At least Palin messed up enough on her international information that it made the show enteraining.

Highlight of the evening:

The Cheney issue-

promtor: So, Gov.(palin) tell us what you view the role of the vice president is? Is the Vice President part of the executive branch only or also part of the legislative branch because of Cheney's recent reforms?

Palin: Well, I'm glad that the founders of our nation were wise enough to make the consitution very flexible. I view the office of teh vice president as being very flexible and yes, i do think that the vice president is part of both.

promtor: Sen.(Biden) your reply?

Biden: First, the first amendment makes it clear the vice president is under the President and part of the executive branch only. The only power that teh vice president has over the senate is in the situation of a tie. Other than a tie situation the Vice President has no say in teh legsilative branch! The Constitution is clear!

So Biden won in knowledge area, Palin won in Charisma area, but who won when it came to heart area?

Here's what happened. Palin was talking about being a mom with kids and bringing them up and how she has kids galore. Then as she was winning the crowd's heart with her mentioning of her special needs child, she made the statement in regards to raising children, "Oh, I know."

The promtor turned to Biden, who, when repsonding simply began saying, "When it comes to raising children, believe me, I know..." And he actually choked up and couldn't finish what he was saying. Everyone there knew about his wife and daughter's death in the car accident and how he had been left to raise his two small boys as a single father.

Needless to say, that small bit of having to stop to collect himself won him everyone's heart there, and made Palin look like a jerk for even suggesting that she knew anything about life. Thats not to say that it's true, thats just the feeling you got from watching it.

In the end, it was better than watching the office. And no, I'm not a democrat, yet ;), and no I'm still pretty sure I won't ever stoop to the lowly level of the retarded republicans, but I must say that I do admit Palin's ability to hold her own almost as much as I admit that Biden was still her better in almost everyway. Remember, i went into this almost completely neutral and this is how I came out.
:D

Chapter 19 the First Half

Okay, so I started Chp. 19 and then had this horrible revelation that I will probably have to go back and rewrite the entire story because of the character of holly being too flat for her eventual purpose. And teh thought of having to rewrit eliterllay eveyrthing except for Ivan made me so despondant I produced a slue of dreary emo poetry and stopped working on the story all together. I even started writing several short stroies instead.

So right now I'm not sure if I'm even going to keep working on this book...
And on that note here is Chpater 19... the possible last chapter. Or should I say half chpater...

Chapter 19

The small company rode ahead of the larger Albian force down the white chalk path. The early morning sunrise was warming their backs and the waxing white moon was still lingering on the blue horizon. The large forest of dark green evergreen trees on the one side of the company echoed with birdsong and the gurgling of a small creek somewhere. On their other side a green meadow stretched out, small white flowers dotting the landscape.

Nicholas and Ivan rode behind the rest of the company, neither speaking a word. The early morning air was crisp and chill and their breaths smoked as they breathed the biting air. Ivan had pulled his old scarf, the one he always carried with him, out and had wrapped it several times around his neck. His goggles in his hair caused it to stand at all angles and was desperately trying to read a book while riding the horse, and failing miserably.

Nicholas was in deep thought. He kept feeling like someone was watching him, or was ready to jump out and attack him. The nervous anxiety that spread through his bones and drained his marrow caused his hands to shake ever so slightly. He tried gripping the reigns tighter but he felt like he didn’t even have the strength to do that.

Ivan had given up trying to read the text and after putting it into his bag, he looked over and noticed that Nicholas wasn’t looking too good. His head hung low, his dark brown curly hair looking almost black in the dawn light. His down cast eyes were encircled by dark rings while his normally tan skin looked pasty and pale. Even his dark purple cowl that Master Oronus had given him so long ago was looking almost black. He had never seen his friend like this before.

“Hey, Klaus. Are you okay?” Asked Ivan, leaning closer so they could talk.

“Yeah. I, I just have a lot on my mind.” Came Nicholas’ reply. He smiled weakly as he realized that Ivan had called him by his old name. “I just had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asked Ivan, still trying to cajole the story from Nicholas.

“It’s hard to explain.”

They rode on in silence for a few moments, the tocking of horses hooves on the hard stony ground echoing around them. Then just as Nicholas was about to say something, he spotted something white on the horizon. It was moving too fast to be a cloud.

“Swan!” Came the call from the scouts. And they were right, the swan had returned.

><><><><><><><><><

The group made camp in the small depression made by the green hills next to the white chalk rode. Cooking fires had been lit and soon blue smoke waived up in the morning air in smooth tendrils reaching for the heavens and carrying the flavor of the fire across the area. While everyone wanted to know what the bird had to say, Liam had seen how weary it was from the back and forth flights and so they had waited while it had rest and drank some water from a nearby pool.

“So, you were telling me why you’re so down today…” began Ivan trying to worm it out of him again.

“Fine.” Said Nicholas, not having the energy to withstand against Ivan’s inquisitive nature, “But I can’t tell you… I’ll have to show you…”

“Show me? What are you babbling about?” Asked Ivan was raised brow.

“here, close your eyes and go to sleep.” Said Nicholas, and it being early morning Ivan had no difficulty falling back to sleep.

He felt the warmth of soft grass beneath him, like large living fur rug that was coiling and moving as if on top of a mountain of serpents. Then the furry ground began to move together and come together and as he opened his eyes he saw he was on top of a large beast. Its muscles bunched as it sprinted along a river of ice. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Ivan!”

The next instants he was pulled through a flashing light then darkness with spinning lights all around him. Then with another bright flash he was inside a bright white room. Nicholas was standing next to him, holding onto his shoulder. His body shook as he clawed his way up Nicholas’ leg until he was standing up right again.

“W-what, what just happened!?!” Ivan yelled as his heart beat ten times as fast as usual.

“Sorry, I forgot you’re not a regular dream leaver.” Nicholas said with his crooked smile.

“T-that! That back there! I could use a little warning next time!” Yelled the angry boy until he was completely out of breath.

They stood there in the silence for a few seconds before Nicholas asked, “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes actually I do.” Then as if first noticing where he was his mouth dropped open as he saw the walls expanding and retracting with Nicholas’ breaths. “Where are we Klaus?”

“Ivan, welcome to my dreamplane.” Said Nicholas with a smile as he saw the other boy begin scientifically examining the room. “What I have to show you isn’t quite here though… well it is, but it isn’t at the same time.”

“Yes, and you are making absolutely no sense.” Said Ivan as he rolled his eyes.

“Okay just watch.” Nicholas retorted, “You might find here not all things makes sense.”

And with wave of his hands they were both standing upon a large cliff overlooking the aquamarine sea and the setting sun far in the west. Next to them were several old stone ruins, and a few wild conneys were playing in the derelict buildings. Ivan was so close to the edge he nearly fell off.

“Easy there. What I want to show you might hurt a little so I need you in one piece when it happens.” Nicholas said as he grabbed Ivan’s arm as he was precariously balanced on the lip of the cliff.

Then Nicholas sat him down on an old stone bench and seated himself next to Ivan. The small rabbits ran from them towards an old garden where pomegranate and grape vines had escaped and now grew wild among the few surviving lettuce seedlings. A lark sailed over to her nest that was bursting with pale blue eggs. This imaginary world seemed more alive than even the real world.

“Now Ivan.” Said the boy in the cowl seriously. “You are about to see the past. Do not fear it because it can’t harm you. At least, I don’t think it can.”

“Oh, your confidence is so reassuring.” Ivan replied with a smile, “Lets do this. What ever it is.”

“Alright, here goes. This was my dream.” And Nicholas closed his eyes.

Ivan sat and waited. He looked around and saw nothing unusual. It was beginning to grow awkward sitting on the bench with the silence enveloping them. Ivan opened his mouth to say something when he saw Nicholas fly over the lip of the cliff.

“Hahaha!” he cried as he landed softly on the soft most covered ground.

“Nicholas!” called Ivan, but his friend didn’t hear him. He got up but as Nicholas approached him he walked right through Ivan. Ivan gasped as he saw the other Nicholas sit down next to the real Nicholas. They were indistinguishable.

“Well, well. I see we have learned how to play.” Came a sneering voice from the ruins behind the two, causing the past Nicholas to jump up and spin around.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Called Nicholas.

From out of the shadows stepped a woman in a long scarlet cowl with a hood over her face. The hood tapered to a point that was caught by the breeze that had picked up with her arrival. Nicholas raised and then slowly lowered his arms and caused the dreamplane to melt away into the room again but the figure did not. She was no dream. She was real.

“Oh, very clever. Try this trick!” She called as she raised her hands over her head, twirling them like ravens acending into the sky after a bloody feast.

The dreamplane around her began to fold and dark cracks appeared as a loud, chanting could be heard all around. Wisps and tendrils of smoky blackness crept across the translucent dreamplane. Ivan grabbed the real Nicholas, who was frozen in place, and dragged him away from the darkness that was creeping closer.

“Stop!” Called the past Nicholas as he extended his hands up and brought them down suddenly with great force, sending the figure crashing against the ground as several large tree-sized filaments of glass fell on her. With her down, the dreamplane seemed to revert back to normal.

“Hahaha!” cried her loud mocking cackle. “Impressive little worm.” And as she said it she threw her arm up and all of the large piece of glassy firmament that covered her floated about her, compressing into large balls. Nicholas backed up slowly as she began hovering in the air in front of him. “But if you wish to battle in dreams you will have to do better than that!”

Ivan saw what was happened and couldn’t help himself crying out, “Nicholas! Watch out on your left!”

But it was too late and one of the large balls swooped forward and crashed into Nicholas, sending him sprawling across the room. He barely managed to get back up before a second one was nearly on top of him. Luckily he brought his arms up this time and as he did, glassy filaments from the floor had covered him in a shell like a turtle.

“Ha! Is that the best the “great one” has to offer?” The woman in the cowl shrieked with fury as she sent another one against the shield, cracking it slightly.

Seeing the small amount of damage she inferred, the crimson robed clapped her hands above her head, causing the two glass balls on each side of her to collide and send a beam of lightning at Nicholas’ shell. It shattered and he rolled out of the small crater. The next instant Ivan felt himself beginning to sink into a large and rolling ocean.

He still had the catatonic Nicholas in his arms and so splashed his way to an ice sheet that was floating nearby. Struggling to get himself and the deadweight up was hard but finally they were on top of the island of ice. Ivan lay on his back breathing hard as he rolled over and scanned the horizon to see if he could see the two combatants anywhere.

The next moment he saw a red blur flash by him towards a large iceberg in the distance. On top of the iceberg stood Nicholas. She sent another beam of lightning at him, but he blew towards it and it shot sideways into the distance. Then she threw the glass balls towards him, but as they collided with him, they became powder and blew away. That’s when she realized his irises were glowing golden-green light.

“What-” Was all she had time to say, before it happened.

Several large icebergs shot up out of the water to encase her inside a frozen prison. Then large dark brown vines that looked like flexible trees grew out of the sea around the encased witch and began wrapping around the iceberg. Finally, Nicholas brought his hands together, palms pressed against one another, and a column of fire erupted form the sky and engulfed the entire prison of the witch.

As the fierce burning heat dried Ivan and the still unmoving figure, he watched his friend in the past, collapse on the iceberg, and the fire receded. The vines were charred away, and the icebergs melted, but what had happened to the witch, Ivan wondered. He then saw his past friend walk down from his iceberg slowly and trudged right up to where they were. He slowly lay down on the exact spot Nicholas was.

The next instant Ivan opened his eyes. Before him he saw the small cooking fires just being lit, while Liam was still busy giving the swan a drink of water. Had the entire dream taken only a few seconds, he wondered. Nicholas sat up next to him and looked at him with those same weary eyes he had before. Ivan now understood why he was acting the way he was.

“So now you see.” Was all Nicholas could think of saying.

“Is this… was this the first time something like this happened?” Asked Ivan, scratching his chin as he thought.

“Yes, well, no. There has been one time when I was dragged out of my dreamplane. By a black vine or tentacle thing.” Nicholas responded as the rear guard of the Albian troops trudged up on the path and settled in the camps.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you whipped her butt!” said Ivan, jumping up and imitating her with a high, nasally voice, “‘Oh, if you want to beat me you’re going to have to do better than that!’ Ha! Well you showed her a thing or two!”

“But that’s just the thing Ivan… What if I killed her?” Nicholas spoke almost in a whisper as he stood and turned away in shame, “I-I know you could call it self defense, but still… if I kn-… I wasn’t even in control of myself when I… I just saw her and did everything like it was a dream.”

“That’s because it was a dream!” Called Ivan as he turned Nicholas to face him. “Listen. You had a bad dream. You did something bad in your dream. That doesn’t mean you did it in reality. Come on Klaus! You know I’m always right.”

Nicholas smiled at his friend’s remark to which Ivan responded, “Okay, but I’m right most of the time… or at least some of the time. Er! Fine! I’m often wrong but still… I know I’m right about this. Don’t worry Klaus. The day your dreams happen in the real world, then we’ll worry about it. For now, I think we’re gonna have another riddle to solve.”

He motioned and Nicholas saw Liam walking towards them with a parchment and quill, and several people trailing behind him all talking animatedly and excitedly. They joined the group and everyone went to the large main fire to talk. Nicholas and Ivan walked in the back and as they neared the fire pit Nicholas nodded and smiled at Ivan and gave him a silent ‘Thank you’.

><><><><><><><><><

As the group was seated around the fire pit Holly found herself next to Jack on one side and a large, fat, greasy Albian cook on the other side. He gave a loud, putrid belch and so she turned from him. As she did she saw Jack, while fixing his hair, smile and give her a wink, saying,

“Albains! Ha, no breeding whatsoever.” Then scooting closer to her, he leaned in and whispered, “You know, I’v heard the most horrible stories of the Albians marrying cousins and sisters, terrible, I know.”

“Okay…” said Holly, not sure what point Jack was trying to make, “Thanks for the information.”

“You’re welcome.” But just as she thought he was done he continued while stretching, “You know, it does truly take an intelligent person to spot another. And you’re defiantly one of the most intelligent women I have ever encountered. And pretty too. A rare combination indeed.”

Holly went rigid as she felt his arm come down behind her neck. In the next instant she had grabbed his writs, whipped him around, and was holding him in a vicelike grip by his thumb, rendering him immobile. “Hands. Off. Pretty boy.”

And as she released him against the hard stony ground, she got up and went to sit next to Silver on the other side of the fire. Jack was rubbing his painfully agitated limbs as the fat, greasy cook turned to him and a loud fart escaped. And just as Jack was turning away with disgust, his ears turned red as he saw Holly and Silver in her Dray form, laughing as Holly pointed to him and whispered in Silver’s ear, causing more laughter.

Then Liam got up before the council and called out in a loud and clear voice,

“Alright friends, if I could have your attention.”

The entire crew along with several of the head Albians under Angus were gathered round the fire while Liam cleared his throat before continueing,

“Friends, this is unfortunately where our paths must separate. Cigna, our swan friend, has brought us not only our next riddle but has also brought instructions. Only five will go find the next part of the book. Edric and I will be going to the Gathering at Brannon, accompanying Angus and his men. You, the crew, will go with Dare and prepare to sail when we send word.”

“So whose going?” Asked Ivan as he couldn’t resist interrupting.

Liam smiled as he replied, “Well, Ivan I was about to get to that. You, Holly, Nicholas, Silver, and Jack have all been assigned to go find the book.”

“Yes!” Cried Ivan who had instantly gathered Holly and Nicholas in a hug, yelling, “It’s the old crew again!”

“Erm!” Came Jack’s voice, “What are we, chopped sharkmeat?”

“Don’t even joke about that stuff!” called several crew members and soon the morning was full of laughter as Tal defended his cooking and he and several crew members were soon rolling in the dust. Liam smiled, glad that the parting would take place on such a light note. He realized, as only a few did at that time, that there was a very likely chance that this would be the last time many of them would see each other alive.

><><><><><><><><><



The End

The Way I See Them

Dimples, freckles, messy heads of curly hair,
Big smiles, big hearts, small fingerprints everywhere
In the mud, in the sun, in your own land of pretend,
Trusting heart, helping hands, why must this springtime end...

The bloom of spring has been buried, deep in their old eyes,
Look, He says sadly, my children pretending to be all grown,
I see them, not as they seem but as they truly are, and were.
Can you, with eyes of love, see the blossom under all life's snow

Tearful eyes, broken hearts, sorrow pouring in dry tears,
Where's mommy, where's daddy, My heart breaks with you my dears,
Hungry souls, thirsty hearts, such an empty cavity
No hand envelops yours, as you walk across the street.

Oh My children, how I have yearned, over and over again,
To gather you all tightly, within My steady arms of love,
As a mother hen, covers her brood neath her soft warm wings,
Then He says to me, can you see, that the way I see them, each and everyone.


So today was a very active day... that would be positive speak for tiring! But as I was on my way home, riding the streetcar, max, and bus, I began to speak to God. And he spoke this to me. Not exactly in those words, but somewhat along those lines. And he asked me if I could look with the same eyes of love and see the people around me as He saw them. That the bag lady with her bulging eyes and stringy gray hair will always be his little fairy princess who played tea party out behind the house. That the dirty drunk, with his yellowed teeth and grizzly beard will always be the little bright eyed boy who wanted to be an astronaut like his uncle when he grew up. God really opened my eyes to how He really sees everyone, as His children. As He was speaking I just took this snapshot of what he was showing me. I'm not even sure myself which parts of this is suppose to be me talking and which are God's voice, but in the end, if we are his bride and the husband and wife are one then it doesn;t really matter anyway. So yeah, just thought I'd share my orientation day revelation.