A dearth of updates in the past few weeks, it would seem. Sadly--or indifferently, depending upon your perspective--it will continue. I am at this very moment packing up to head out to Cornerstone's Journalism Institute, where I will spend the entire week as an RA. Don't know how I will get along with a pack (flock? gaggle? murder?) of highschool students who may or may not actually want to be there (prayers appreciated). Could be great, could be several shades of ungood. Hopefully I can fake "cool college guy" for six days.
....do they say "cool" anymore?
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Do I hafta?
"'Cause now again I've found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I'm so far down, away from the sun again
Away from the sun again"
~Three Doors Down "Away from the Sun"
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And i dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight girl its only you and me"
~Three Doors Down "Here Without You"
"The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright
...There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I cross the lines its not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason"
~Shinedown "Burning Bright"
"And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45"
~Shinedown "45"
What does it mean when your musical diet consists almost entirely of emotionally overwrought, melodramatic guitar-driven rock (I mean, really, look at the lyrics. Somebody out there needs a hug, or a puppy or something)? Is that your subconscious picking up its air guitar in a cry for help?
Or maybe just for pancakes. Speaking of diet, I have been continuing my reign as the Mad Pancake Alchemist (does that sound better than "Pancake Wizard"?). To my butterscotch chip pancakes, I now add swirls of butterscotch syrup into the batter as it cooks, and chocolate syrup into the chocolate chip ones. Add to that the aforementioned M&M pancakes, and I am amassing quite a repertoire. Perhaps if someone had made chocolate and butterscotch pancakes for some of these "angst rockers", they would not have felt so bad, and would have written folk songs or books of children's poetry instead. Oh, the myriad twists and turns of fickle fate...
I suppose it is customary to say something about the state of one's life from time to time, so I suppose I shall: Michigan. (haha! you see? "state" and "state"? *wipes tears of laughter before regaining composure*...ahem.)
But seriously. Still working at switchboard and attempting to work my internship (Dr. Mohrmann, where are you? Guam? Abu Dhabi? Jersey?). I went through my finances for the next year and realized (realized? how about confirmed) no matter how many hours I work, I will still have to borrow money for grad school. Fortunately, I always tend to estimate pessimistically (to which some respond "That is *all* you do pessimistically?"). Still two jobs and some scholarships (Lord willing and work ethic reviving) will take care of most of it. Someone also recommended *selling blood plasma* to me the other night, an activity I usually associated in a humorous context with fictitious drunks and/or absurdly desperate college student, but looks like it may be a good, or at least profitable, idea. My Dad advocated caution, and I suppose there is a good "slippery slope" argument to be made, because blood plasma is a well documented "gateway donation." First it's plasma, then bone marrow; pretty soon it's brain fluid, then that extra kidney (because hey you only really need one), and pretty soon you are eying that left lung (it's not like I am an athlete or anything...), and pretty soon you wake up in a bathtub full of ice with a patch over one eye, a dull ache in your side, and a dim hope that you still have a liver. Hmmm...considering I still don't know *exactly* what Dad did in the Navy, I may want to heed his advice on this one...
The funny thing about looking at grad schools (not "haha" funny, but like "What do you *mean* you left the bullets in the truck" funny) is that I still don't know exactly what I want to study. I am operating under the assumption of some kind of theology, but every so often I feel the urge to become a medievalist, or study literature. I also keep looking at schools in England (who would have thought?), though I know the states would probably be easier/cheaper (though the promise of a master's in one year, and a possible doctorate in another three or four is a strong selling point); I suppose that in the absence of a mast and a length of rope, I must succumb to this particular Siren's song. My short list so far:
Oxford, Cambridge, Durham, Birmingham, and Gordon Conwell (my Yank concession). Please pray for me to have wisdom in all of this. Add to that the fact that my intellectual life is at low ebb (to mix metaphors); I have to end this "summer rut" I am in and get on with the business of the rest of my life. My hope is to have Latin and Coptic before next fall, and to have my Greek up to "tomato and tin can cutting Ginsu" level.
And my other major project is to get some writing done (this here doesn't exactly "count"). My plan is to turn out a story a week for the next year. 52 weeks, 52 stories--what could be simpler than that? How about "starting"...that sounds pretty simple...right.
And because it is late, I am bored, and I didn't think this entry was long enough, let's move on to...
***Capsule Reviews***
This is where give my comments and opinions on whatever medications I may be taking at the time. Kidding. But they are short, either because I have a short attention span, or I think you do.
Been Reading:
The Case Against Hillary Clinton by Peggy Noonan- A quick little volume composed on the eve of Hillary's run for the New York senate. From the title, obviously a polemic, but one completely lacking in vitriol. Noonan's prose reflects has a keen intellect and-what is missing from most political commentary-a sense of grace and class. A recent column of hers is a good example of her work, and worth reading.
3 and 1/2 pancakes out of 5. It's solid, but by no means comprehensive.
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee- I admit that I had never read it before this week, though it is consistently regarded as one of the greatest American novels. Katie thrust it upon me (in exchange for Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy), and I am glad she did. It is well worthy of its "classic" status, with delightful, fluid prose, and some of the most well-drawn characters I can remember, even the supporting cast. So many authors can never get past "placeholder characters" and create any sense of attachment or reality. Lee reminds me of Salinger in her ability to quickly build up solid and memorable characters, but unlike Catcher, Mockingbird manages good characters *and* an actual plot.
5 out of 5 pancakes. Now I just need to see the movie.
Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco- *Partial Review* I am only partly through the novel, but I am enjoying it immensely. It has been called "The Thinking Man's Davinci Code" (but written in 1988!) and also "completely impenetrable." I can't comment on the former, but the latter is an exaggeration. This is a hard book to read, no question, and Eco has a taste for the obscure and the arcane, both linguistically and historically, but seldom does he really enter Finnegan's Wake territory, and only occasionally does pretentiousness seep through. Just hold tight, and even if the details get blurry, you can make it. Ignore the people who speak of three months with a dictionary in their hands.
On a side note, I spent a good bit of time trying to grasp the mechanics of the Foucault pendulum. It is one thing to know logically why it work, and another to have it spatially working in your head.
Pancakes still on the griddle for this one.
Been Watching:
War of the Worlds- It's not bad, as a disaster movie and theatrical spectacle, and the special effects are top notch. The choice to follow one man and his family instead of the usual global scale is a good one, and gives the movie some semblance of a heart. Dakota Fanning is closest thing around to a female Haley Joel Osmont. But still, I couldn't help but think that in many ways it, like so many of these sorts of movies, is *a monument to human stupidity.* Not that they don't have their bright moments in this film; they do, more than most. Just once, I want to see a film like this without thinking that some of the protagonists deserve to die, and being disappointed when they do not. But it's better than Independence Day, Godzilla, and The Day After Tomorrow.
3 charred pancakes out of 5.
Dancing with the Stars- Ok. It is a ballroom dancing competition with a roster of second string celebrities. I understand the absurdity of this concept (it has one of the New Kids on the Block, for crying out loud), but it is actually quite entertaining, and not in a "man boxes kangaroo" kind of way. Though I question the competancy of some of the judges ("choreographer"-of what? ballet? hip hop? organ grinder monkeys? it matters, people!), and the "American Idol" voting system, it is a good popular introduction to the world of ballroom for most people. And it's *fun*.
4 pirouetting pancakes out of 5. Now if they will only bring the real thing back to TV...
***End Capsule Reviews***
Goodness, are you still reading? I don't even know if my mom can stand this much of me. I don't even think *I* can. I'm going to sleep for a few hours respite.
Grace be with you all,
Brian
(I leave you with the wisdom of Lynyrd Skynryd...)
"Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say.
And if you do this
It will help you some sunny day.
Take your time... Don't live too fast,
Troubles will come and they will pass.
Go find a woman and you'll find love,
And don't forget son,
There is someone up above.
...And be a simple kind of man.
Be something you love and understand.
Be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can?"
~Lynyrd Skynyrd "Simple Man"
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I'm so far down, away from the sun again
Away from the sun again"
~Three Doors Down "Away from the Sun"
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And i dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight girl its only you and me"
~Three Doors Down "Here Without You"
"The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright
...There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I cross the lines its not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason"
~Shinedown "Burning Bright"
"And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45"
~Shinedown "45"
What does it mean when your musical diet consists almost entirely of emotionally overwrought, melodramatic guitar-driven rock (I mean, really, look at the lyrics. Somebody out there needs a hug, or a puppy or something)? Is that your subconscious picking up its air guitar in a cry for help?
Or maybe just for pancakes. Speaking of diet, I have been continuing my reign as the Mad Pancake Alchemist (does that sound better than "Pancake Wizard"?). To my butterscotch chip pancakes, I now add swirls of butterscotch syrup into the batter as it cooks, and chocolate syrup into the chocolate chip ones. Add to that the aforementioned M&M pancakes, and I am amassing quite a repertoire. Perhaps if someone had made chocolate and butterscotch pancakes for some of these "angst rockers", they would not have felt so bad, and would have written folk songs or books of children's poetry instead. Oh, the myriad twists and turns of fickle fate...
I suppose it is customary to say something about the state of one's life from time to time, so I suppose I shall: Michigan. (haha! you see? "state" and "state"? *wipes tears of laughter before regaining composure*...ahem.)
But seriously. Still working at switchboard and attempting to work my internship (Dr. Mohrmann, where are you? Guam? Abu Dhabi? Jersey?). I went through my finances for the next year and realized (realized? how about confirmed) no matter how many hours I work, I will still have to borrow money for grad school. Fortunately, I always tend to estimate pessimistically (to which some respond "That is *all* you do pessimistically?"). Still two jobs and some scholarships (Lord willing and work ethic reviving) will take care of most of it. Someone also recommended *selling blood plasma* to me the other night, an activity I usually associated in a humorous context with fictitious drunks and/or absurdly desperate college student, but looks like it may be a good, or at least profitable, idea. My Dad advocated caution, and I suppose there is a good "slippery slope" argument to be made, because blood plasma is a well documented "gateway donation." First it's plasma, then bone marrow; pretty soon it's brain fluid, then that extra kidney (because hey you only really need one), and pretty soon you are eying that left lung (it's not like I am an athlete or anything...), and pretty soon you wake up in a bathtub full of ice with a patch over one eye, a dull ache in your side, and a dim hope that you still have a liver. Hmmm...considering I still don't know *exactly* what Dad did in the Navy, I may want to heed his advice on this one...
The funny thing about looking at grad schools (not "haha" funny, but like "What do you *mean* you left the bullets in the truck" funny) is that I still don't know exactly what I want to study. I am operating under the assumption of some kind of theology, but every so often I feel the urge to become a medievalist, or study literature. I also keep looking at schools in England (who would have thought?), though I know the states would probably be easier/cheaper (though the promise of a master's in one year, and a possible doctorate in another three or four is a strong selling point); I suppose that in the absence of a mast and a length of rope, I must succumb to this particular Siren's song. My short list so far:
Oxford, Cambridge, Durham, Birmingham, and Gordon Conwell (my Yank concession). Please pray for me to have wisdom in all of this. Add to that the fact that my intellectual life is at low ebb (to mix metaphors); I have to end this "summer rut" I am in and get on with the business of the rest of my life. My hope is to have Latin and Coptic before next fall, and to have my Greek up to "tomato and tin can cutting Ginsu" level.
And my other major project is to get some writing done (this here doesn't exactly "count"). My plan is to turn out a story a week for the next year. 52 weeks, 52 stories--what could be simpler than that? How about "starting"...that sounds pretty simple...right.
And because it is late, I am bored, and I didn't think this entry was long enough, let's move on to...
***Capsule Reviews***
This is where give my comments and opinions on whatever medications I may be taking at the time. Kidding. But they are short, either because I have a short attention span, or I think you do.
Been Reading:
The Case Against Hillary Clinton by Peggy Noonan- A quick little volume composed on the eve of Hillary's run for the New York senate. From the title, obviously a polemic, but one completely lacking in vitriol. Noonan's prose reflects has a keen intellect and-what is missing from most political commentary-a sense of grace and class. A recent column of hers is a good example of her work, and worth reading.
3 and 1/2 pancakes out of 5. It's solid, but by no means comprehensive.
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee- I admit that I had never read it before this week, though it is consistently regarded as one of the greatest American novels. Katie thrust it upon me (in exchange for Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy), and I am glad she did. It is well worthy of its "classic" status, with delightful, fluid prose, and some of the most well-drawn characters I can remember, even the supporting cast. So many authors can never get past "placeholder characters" and create any sense of attachment or reality. Lee reminds me of Salinger in her ability to quickly build up solid and memorable characters, but unlike Catcher, Mockingbird manages good characters *and* an actual plot.
5 out of 5 pancakes. Now I just need to see the movie.
Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco- *Partial Review* I am only partly through the novel, but I am enjoying it immensely. It has been called "The Thinking Man's Davinci Code" (but written in 1988!) and also "completely impenetrable." I can't comment on the former, but the latter is an exaggeration. This is a hard book to read, no question, and Eco has a taste for the obscure and the arcane, both linguistically and historically, but seldom does he really enter Finnegan's Wake territory, and only occasionally does pretentiousness seep through. Just hold tight, and even if the details get blurry, you can make it. Ignore the people who speak of three months with a dictionary in their hands.
On a side note, I spent a good bit of time trying to grasp the mechanics of the Foucault pendulum. It is one thing to know logically why it work, and another to have it spatially working in your head.
Pancakes still on the griddle for this one.
Been Watching:
War of the Worlds- It's not bad, as a disaster movie and theatrical spectacle, and the special effects are top notch. The choice to follow one man and his family instead of the usual global scale is a good one, and gives the movie some semblance of a heart. Dakota Fanning is closest thing around to a female Haley Joel Osmont. But still, I couldn't help but think that in many ways it, like so many of these sorts of movies, is *a monument to human stupidity.* Not that they don't have their bright moments in this film; they do, more than most. Just once, I want to see a film like this without thinking that some of the protagonists deserve to die, and being disappointed when they do not. But it's better than Independence Day, Godzilla, and The Day After Tomorrow.
3 charred pancakes out of 5.
Dancing with the Stars- Ok. It is a ballroom dancing competition with a roster of second string celebrities. I understand the absurdity of this concept (it has one of the New Kids on the Block, for crying out loud), but it is actually quite entertaining, and not in a "man boxes kangaroo" kind of way. Though I question the competancy of some of the judges ("choreographer"-of what? ballet? hip hop? organ grinder monkeys? it matters, people!), and the "American Idol" voting system, it is a good popular introduction to the world of ballroom for most people. And it's *fun*.
4 pirouetting pancakes out of 5. Now if they will only bring the real thing back to TV...
***End Capsule Reviews***
Goodness, are you still reading? I don't even know if my mom can stand this much of me. I don't even think *I* can. I'm going to sleep for a few hours respite.
Grace be with you all,
Brian
(I leave you with the wisdom of Lynyrd Skynryd...)
"Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say.
And if you do this
It will help you some sunny day.
Take your time... Don't live too fast,
Troubles will come and they will pass.
Go find a woman and you'll find love,
And don't forget son,
There is someone up above.
...And be a simple kind of man.
Be something you love and understand.
Be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can?"
~Lynyrd Skynyrd "Simple Man"
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Plain Vanilla Entry...that's what this is
I decided to practice writing one of those journal entries that has nothing significant to say about life in general, or about my life in particular, and includes some random thoughts. I suppose that means I am working at being trivial. Wow...now I feel bad...I guess I'll have to think of something now...
Today (though today is now yesterday) I defied those many so-called experts who insist that "just because something is good on its own, that doesn't mean you can just throw it into a pancake." I added M&M's, and I thought it turned out just fine.
Yesterday I finished an article (well, started and finished...stop looking at me like that!) for the university magazine about my semester in Oxford. It was a bit short to really say much, and I admit it didn't turn out as well as I wanted, but--
Yes I know that's why we have these things called "drafts." Hey, I was busy.
Just "stuff," that's all. Hey, Chesterton wrote all his stuff at the last minute.
Yes, I know he was a genius. Yes, I know I am a--hey!
Look, do you want to read it or not? (The magazine is free, so I have no qualms about depriving them of customers. Actually, I don't think I have any qualms at all. Maybe I had them removed or something...) Anyway, here it is:
***Begin Untitled Generic 400-500 word "Reflection" Article***
I must admit that attempting to write about my semester abroad in Oxford feels a bit like one of those dreadful “What I did on my summer vacation” essays that grade school teachers are so keen on assigning. Or perhaps it’s more like “Grandpa, what did you do during the war? What was it really like?” Can you explain it to someone who wasn’t there?
There were fifty-five of us--Christian college students from all over the United States, from all walks of life--who called Oxford home, and we have all returned changed. We have seen the dreaming spires, slept in the Bodleian Library, walked the parks, and toasted or cursed the great men that came before. We have cooked, studied, played, walked, slept, lived alongside one another every day for fourteen weeks, brothers and sisters in arms, to the end. How do you truly communicate an experience like that? It's a bit like trying to describe the color "blue."
But there is much that can be told. Of punting down the Thames, or giving some British students their first snowball fight. Evensong services, in university chapels built before our country had even been settled. The sounds of the street musicians, the smell of old bookshops, or buying sandwiches every day from Ricardo and Poppy’s shop. The late night walks and 2 a.m. conversations around the kitchen table. Or traipsing all around Scotland with a friend over Easter break, with no particular destination and no plan, trusting in God’s swift sure hand to lead us safely home. All that and infinitely more, memories etched so deeply that they will never fade.
Perhaps more important than what I did in Oxford was what I learned in Oxford. It is easily one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the world, and provided the most challenging and stimulating environment of my short scholastic career. It was simultaneously exhilarating (seeing the myriad opportunities and wanting to learn everything) and frustrating (marveling at how I had seemingly wasted much of my previous twenty-one years of learning).
But many of my most valuable learning experiences didn’t come from lectures, or tutorials, or time spent in the library, but rather from interacting with my fellow students in the program. So many of them were passionate not only about their fields of study, but also about their faith. Among them I saw Doc Carroll’s credo “Study is worship” lived out on a day to day basis, and just as often I found myself humbled by their sincerity, kindness, and unconscious grace.
At Cornerstone we strive to create a true community of Christian scholars. In Oxford I caught glimpses of what that might look like, and why it is worth striving for. It wasn’t perfect, of course, for we are all finite and fallible creatures. But for a brief time it was there all the same, as we gathered together for one purpose: to honor our Lord as best we could with our minds and lives. One day, it will be so for all eternity, world without end.
And I say “Amen.”
***End Untitled Generic 400-500 word "Reflection" Article***
As always, keep those cards and letters coming,
Brian
Been Watching: The Killer (starring Chow Yun Fat)
Been Reading: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Been Listening to: Shinedown
Today (though today is now yesterday) I defied those many so-called experts who insist that "just because something is good on its own, that doesn't mean you can just throw it into a pancake." I added M&M's, and I thought it turned out just fine.
Yesterday I finished an article (well, started and finished...stop looking at me like that!) for the university magazine about my semester in Oxford. It was a bit short to really say much, and I admit it didn't turn out as well as I wanted, but--
Yes I know that's why we have these things called "drafts." Hey, I was busy.
Just "stuff," that's all. Hey, Chesterton wrote all his stuff at the last minute.
Yes, I know he was a genius. Yes, I know I am a--hey!
Look, do you want to read it or not? (The magazine is free, so I have no qualms about depriving them of customers. Actually, I don't think I have any qualms at all. Maybe I had them removed or something...) Anyway, here it is:
***Begin Untitled Generic 400-500 word "Reflection" Article***
I must admit that attempting to write about my semester abroad in Oxford feels a bit like one of those dreadful “What I did on my summer vacation” essays that grade school teachers are so keen on assigning. Or perhaps it’s more like “Grandpa, what did you do during the war? What was it really like?” Can you explain it to someone who wasn’t there?
There were fifty-five of us--Christian college students from all over the United States, from all walks of life--who called Oxford home, and we have all returned changed. We have seen the dreaming spires, slept in the Bodleian Library, walked the parks, and toasted or cursed the great men that came before. We have cooked, studied, played, walked, slept, lived alongside one another every day for fourteen weeks, brothers and sisters in arms, to the end. How do you truly communicate an experience like that? It's a bit like trying to describe the color "blue."
But there is much that can be told. Of punting down the Thames, or giving some British students their first snowball fight. Evensong services, in university chapels built before our country had even been settled. The sounds of the street musicians, the smell of old bookshops, or buying sandwiches every day from Ricardo and Poppy’s shop. The late night walks and 2 a.m. conversations around the kitchen table. Or traipsing all around Scotland with a friend over Easter break, with no particular destination and no plan, trusting in God’s swift sure hand to lead us safely home. All that and infinitely more, memories etched so deeply that they will never fade.
Perhaps more important than what I did in Oxford was what I learned in Oxford. It is easily one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the world, and provided the most challenging and stimulating environment of my short scholastic career. It was simultaneously exhilarating (seeing the myriad opportunities and wanting to learn everything) and frustrating (marveling at how I had seemingly wasted much of my previous twenty-one years of learning).
But many of my most valuable learning experiences didn’t come from lectures, or tutorials, or time spent in the library, but rather from interacting with my fellow students in the program. So many of them were passionate not only about their fields of study, but also about their faith. Among them I saw Doc Carroll’s credo “Study is worship” lived out on a day to day basis, and just as often I found myself humbled by their sincerity, kindness, and unconscious grace.
At Cornerstone we strive to create a true community of Christian scholars. In Oxford I caught glimpses of what that might look like, and why it is worth striving for. It wasn’t perfect, of course, for we are all finite and fallible creatures. But for a brief time it was there all the same, as we gathered together for one purpose: to honor our Lord as best we could with our minds and lives. One day, it will be so for all eternity, world without end.
And I say “Amen.”
***End Untitled Generic 400-500 word "Reflection" Article***
As always, keep those cards and letters coming,
Brian
Been Watching: The Killer (starring Chow Yun Fat)
Been Reading: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Been Listening to: Shinedown
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