Will Almighty

And lo, an Angel of the Lord appeared unto me, saying, "So, you think you're pretty hot stuff now that you've finished creating that book. How would you like a real challenge?"

"Bringeth iteth oneth," I replied.

"Stick to modern English before you hurt yourself," the Angel replied.

And thus I was transported into nothing - a big vast field of nothing.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You are Before. God has suggested that you might want to try your hand at creating something a little more challenging - like the whole universe!"

"Hmm... Sure, why not? I'm in between gigs right now. I suppose I can take a week off."

And thus, following the great trend of Hollywood, Will Almighty set out to revamp the first couple of chapters of Genesis. And therefore it was that...

Genesis 1

1 - In the beginning, there was nada. 2 - And Will saw that he liked the nothing and began to plan what he would like to do with all that nothingness, that blank canvas (which is something not yet invented). 3 - The beginning and the end of the first day . 4 - On the second day, Will continued to contemplate all that nothingness and ate nachos (again with the not yet invented thing). 5 - The beginning and end of the second day. 6 - On the third day, Will decided that he needed to begin with a flourish and thus he created the heavens, the earth, the sun, the stars, the moon, and a giant space creature to destroy them all in a cataclysmic fireball, but after seeing his results, he scrapped the whole thing and went to bed early. 7 - The beginning and the end of the third day. 8 - On the fourth day, Will thought about going one better, and separated the lights from the darks, the colors from the socks, and did his laundry. Then he snapped his finger and the entire universe appeared as it had been before (minus plants, animals, and people) with the requisite 15% changes so that he could claim unique ownership. 9 - The beginning and the end of the fourth day. 10 - On the fifth day, Will decided to take a short break while he contemplated what to do next. 11 - The beginning and the end of the fifth day. 12 - On the 223rd day, Will thought about adding the color green. And he liked it. So it stayed. 13 - On the 435th day, Will created water and when it didn't kill him, he kept that too. 14 - On the 856th day, Will added birds, animals, and fishees. And they tasted good. So he kept them. But since he hadn't yet created insects (yuck) nor plant life (icky) they all died out. 15 - On the 857th day, Will begrudgingly created vegetables, but he countered this by also creating ice cream and chocolate syrup. 16 - On the 9,342nd day, Will made everything that was not a cheeseburger taste like chicken. 17 - On the 10,456th day, Will gave up.

And thus it was that Will's vast ego and his self important vision of himself as a master creater was completely destroyed with a single stunning sunset. Forever acknowledged as a failed creator, Will retired to a normal life of fiction wherein he could pretend to be a really, truly, awesome writer.

And as for the Angel, she eventually retired and started a detective agency in Los Angeles - but that's another story...

Amen

It's not about me.

Every year for the past dozen years or so, we've had a sort of tradition in my family that you might as well call The Last Present tradition. It really started one year when my step mom got my dad a Learn to Paint kit complete with canvas and oil paint. The following Christmas as we just finished opening all of our presents, my dad said that he had one last present for my step mom to open. She opened the present and started to laugh. My dad had done his own interpretation of a beloved family icon - a paint by numbers Horse's Head that he'd painted as a kid in summer camp. The family joke had been going on for years that whenever my step mom took a painting down for cleaning or dusting or something, she would come back and find the space filled with this (hideous) paint by number's horse's head. Anyway, long story short, my dad had achieved the perfect mix of surprise and delight.

The following year he enlisted my aid in suprising her with a hand made doll house. The year after that it was my sister's turn to "surprise" everyone with the news of her engagement. And so on and so forth... Every year for years now, we've had that surprise moment at the end of Christmas.

This year I wanted to surprise everyone with the news that I had finally finished my novel. Not a great surprise, mind you, but a surprise nonetheless. I've been keeping the fact of my impending completion underwraps for months while I struggled through one of the most brutal scheduling periods of my life. I purposefully made it more difficult by adding the completion of the novel as a goal on top of everything else. My thought was to surprise everyone and feel their delight at the completion of this task. But as I approached the actual completion, I began to feel awkward about doing the surprise thing.

On the one hand, I knew it wasn't that big a deal. I've completed five different drafts of this thing - that it was the final one was noteworthy, but sort of like celebrating the completion of ROCKY after viewing Rocky VI. So I thought that making a big deal out of it would only serve to pump up my ego. Yes, it was a hard slog. Yes, I'm happy to be done with it (and good riddance ;) But I don't know that it was necessarily newsworthy, much less surprise worthy.

On the other hand, I had this notion in the back of my mind that Christmas shouldn't be about the biggest or the best gift. Its a notion that's been building in my mind for some time now. Christmas should be about Jesus and family and celebrating the idea that God cares for us. I actually began to look forward to a nice low key Christmas where I could put the enjoyment of others ahead of my own enjoyment.

The greatest gift I received this Christmas season was the completion of the book, not because of impending riches and untold wealth, but because I realized that there is a time to write about life and a time to absorb life. And for the first time in a long time, I am ready to absorb life. God has given me this wonderful gift and it has truly colored my new vision in ways that you can not imagine.

There's a line in the book that describes the main character as having a "psychic burr" that drives him to do the things that he does. I finally excersised my own psychic burr. And now I'm ready to simply enjoy the wonderful world that God gave me free of charge.

May your days be merry and bright...

And may all your Christmas's be white... okay, that's probably not the actual message I was going for here. Somehow that phrase, out of context, has some negative connotations. Er, um...

Anyway, Merry Christmas to you all and I hope to be back at this again in a few days with some post-holiday news.

Until then...

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Forget the Old and New, we need a Current Testament *

I think so many people fall into the trap of believing that Christianity ended in something like 132AD and that everything that has happened since has been man's inexhaustable attempts to screw it up. There have been no new additions to the Bible since about that time and therefore anything we add to Christian literature is bound to be considered human, not holy.

But, of course, we know that there have been some very profound things said about God and the nature of love and Christianity since then. You could have an entire section of a Current Testament devoted to the various sayings and prayers of St. Francis, and an entire gospel according to C.S. Lewis or Deitrich Bonhoffer. But even then, in writing, we might have a tendency to codify our religion (St. Francis said it, therefore it must be true) as opposed to living our religion.

If anything is true in our need for a Current Testament, its this - rather than writing it down, we perform it. The beginning may have been the Word, but currently its the Deed.

My thoughts have been traveling down these paths lately because I've been reading the Old Testament again and, at the same time, a current book of theology. Its put me into a kind of temporal flux where I'm seeing Christianity from its ancestry and its progeny at the same time - the ultimate before and after picture. As a result I've been struck by two competing, but harmonious thoughts.

My first thought came from the reading of Genesis about Abraham. In that story, Abraham has a son, Ishmael, that he basically discards into the wilderness. "Don't worry," God tells Abraham, "I will make him into a great nation as well." It struck me that the Islamic faith believe themselves descended from Ishmael and that the sons of Ishmael and the sons of Isaac still don't get along after all these years. And yet, God promised each of them essentially the same thing. What if God had some intention for these two peoples that are much greater than anything we can possibly imagine? What if God sent us Jesus and them Mohammed? And what if there is some great reconciliation out there? This isn't to suggest that I am for the idea of a pluralistic view of God or that I accept a univeralistic view of God's grace. But I'm wondering, ultimately, if we don't all serve His view of the story and not our own - that there isn't some current chapter of the story that we're living and not reading.

My second thought follows the first, in some respect, in that it seems that there are a great many books out there right now that suggest that we've all got it wrong somehow - that there is a better way to worship God and we're not following it. Think about the plethora of "self-help" books out there for churches, congregations, or Christian individuals that each might as well be called, "Ten Ways To A More Religious You!" I'm currently reading one of them and I find the book compelling and interesting and, at times, convicting, but I was suddenly struck with the notion that this guy had no more of a clue about how religion should be done correctly than C.S. Lewis did. Ultimately, all of these "self-help" books are futile in that each of us will play our role in human history the way God intended (even if it means that we're going to read one of these books and be inspired by it to do... whatever.) God is writing the story and we are merely the characters involved.

I can't help but reading the old testament and new testament and think of the people in these books as characters, not living, breathing people. But then I have the same problem reading history books, or newspapers for that matter. Sometimes it's just hard to get out of one's own head. But the "characters" in the Bible and in history and in newspapers are real people, who breath, eat, drink, exist. And each of them has played some part in the world that was not of their choosing. Just like me. Their view of reality was/is the same as mine. They can only see what has happened behind them and can only predict what will come next and try to react to it. They will only know what is in their immediate presence as being fact. And even though most of them are long since dead, their lives form the soil that I walk upon, just as my life will one day form the soil of others yet to come.

And so we're left with an ongoing story of God - not a story of God in the past or a promise of God in the future, but a current story of God right now - an interactive story, a choose-your-own-adventure story, a living breathing testament to the one true God. And whether we are main characters or background characters or just window dressing to the main story, each of us is a part of this continuing story. Each of us is a part of the current testament to God.


* As testament is actually another word for covenant and therefore the designation actually means "Old Covenant with God, New Covenant with God" we don't really need a "Current Covenant with God". The Christ led one will suffice for us all. Therefore I use the term here more as a designation of time (as in Old Testament Times vs. New Testament Times).

Delayed Reaction

At 11:59pm last night I finished working on all of my projects for the entire winter season and semester. My two films, two papers, two sound projects and other projects were all done. I had been working solidly since Thanksgiving, and even longer on most of the projects. My average sleep for the past three weeks had been around 6 hours a night (nothing like Ariel, but still...) and my total output had been just shy of incredible - even for me. And when I finally shut down my computer and stared straight ahead, I wondered how I should feel about completing all this work.

I was tired. That was how I felt. Not overjoyed, not elated, not ready to celebrate or scream for joy. I wasn't about to run out into the street and send a goose to Tiny Tim for Christmas. I wasn't about to run twelve blocks to ask Sally to marry me. I wasn't about to throw my sword across a field and cry, "FREEDOM!" No. I just say there and said, "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now." Kind of like Forrest Gump after running across the country three times in a row.

I got up from my desk, walked into the bathroom, and started to brush my teeth. And as I stood there and looked into the mirror at my puffy face and bloodshot eyes, the enormity of all those projects and all those deadlines met, and the very real notion that I'd done good work, if not great work, hit me and I suddenly felt this overwhelming feeling of true gratitude to God for having pulled me through it all. It was like getting to the top of a nasty hill and then suddenly looking down to see that Jesus had been carrying you the entire time. My eyes welled up with tears, which was really annoying as I had a vibrating toothbrush in my mouth at the time, and I started to praise God for all my blessings.

Its hard sometimes to read the Old Testament and remember the God that inscribed His law in my heart. Reading and rereading all those rules and regulations and trying to imagine that there isn't some egotistic perfectionist God out there telling the Israelites how its gotta be is a hard thing to do when you read the Pentatuch (double word score bonus for Hebrew words). You wonder why God seems to be telling the Israelites how to worship Him. And then, you get a reminder of how God can bestow blessings in your life, and you suddenly feel that He is worth every ounce of praise He receives and then some. Then its not so hard to imagine that an entire people, brought out of Egypt and fed and watered daily, might want to worship God.

But here's the thing... here's the metaphor... the wilderness of Sinai is something we carry with us all the time, and without food or water or God, we will perish in our wilderness of society as well. God is there to provide for us. And, as a result, we should praise him and worship him for all the wonderful things He does, but also for the basics of life. We are all His people. And once we remember that, we will be allowed to claim our inheritance.

This post is all over the place, but that's kind of how it tumbled into my head and heart last night - only much faster and in a jumble. I felt it and thought it all at the same time. And when God reveals his truth to me, its so wonderful that my body can not contain it all at once and tears of joy spill out.

I call those moments, my Holy Spirit moments. And I half expect to look in the mirror and see a flame over my head and to hear myself speaking in tongues.

So the end result is that I am finally done. I am still tired. And I am filled with the love and praise of Christ Almighty. And all just in time for Christmas.

Amen.

Sustainable Futures

There's probably an ah ha out there and a I told you so. But if there is, I don't remember them.

The first Dams were built not with the idea of hydro-electric power or watermills or anything useful in mind, so much as a way to keep the countryside from flooding. The feast or famile approach to existence was a very primitive but necessary way of life, since they had no concept of dams yet. Once the dam was invented and people could keep themselves from becoming inundated, agriculture could thrive and modern society could really develop.

I've been pondering that lately as I approach modern life.

I wrote earlier this fall at the almost perfect storm of a schedule that I was contemplating. So far, I've managed to weather most of the storm and am happy to say that by this time next week, I will be in clear skies and sailing free. I'm not adverse to a little weather from time to time, but the past couple of months, and especially the past six weeks, have taught me that if you can avoid being inundated you ought to do that.

And so, in my idle moments now while I wrap up the few remaining projects that I still have to do (and ponder all that Christmas shopping I have yet to even contemplate) I am beginning to imagine a sustainable future wherein I don't overimmerse myself in projects and plans. I am trying to contemplate a slow and sustainable rate of growth insted of throwing all projects on the fire at once.

Nobody knows what the future holds for them, of course, but I'd like to be prepared to tackle things on my own terms as much as possible. So the planning for the future begins and the dam thing better work.

How would THAT look under the tree?

A little light Friday after a long week...

Occasionally I read the subject lines of spam e-mail and I can't help but wondering if the e-mail is as creative as the headline. But the one I just saw made me smile even though I immediately erased it.

It read: "Santa will make your willie stronger and thicker."

This sudden explosion (pardon the pun) of hoohaa related spams has at least made the purveyors of spamdom start thinking creatively to get people to open their e-mails. I've hand promises of all kinds about strengthening my rope, extending my reach, thickening my third leg, etc... But to me, there are flaws in the basic approach to the spam. The flaws are similar to those messages you see at the beginning of DVD's, "This program has been modified to fit your TV screen." How do they know how big my screen is? How do they know it needs to be modified? I'm quite happy with my screen. It can do the job just fine, giving me robust color and powerful channel reception, and if I want to enjoy the privacy of my screen in my own home, I can do that too. So keep your program modification out of my home, damn you! Oh wait... what was I talking about again?

Oh, that's right... Santa. Imagine him carrying this thing around in his sleigh and then trying to shove it down a chimminey. Too painful? Probably.

I'm getting out while the getting is good.

Have a nice weekend.

A Good and Faithful Servant Returns Home

I just found out from my sister today that my Aunt Jane passed away recently. Apparently there were some communications issues and we just found out about it yesterday - after the funeral. And that's all right with me.

My Aunt Jane was just about the most religious person I know. She was the kind of woman who used to let us kids read those Catholic comic books that depicted the Bible stories in graphic detail and where a priest would fight off demons to protect unborn fetuses from being aborted. But there wasn't a hint of hypocrisy in her body. She was a real believer and a real wonderful woman, and one of the kindest relatives I can remember ever having.

She owned a big old house in Oakland and we used to go over and visit her when we were younger. Then my Mom got sick and we would visit less and less often. But when my Mom was better, she actually went and lived with my Aunt and had a small number of rooms to herself on the lower floors, and we kids were able to spend Christmas with our Mom. I always loved that house. It seemed to take on the character of my aunt - prim, proper, and kind. I can't explain it.

I last saw my aunt about ten years ago. She was in her 80's then and still going on strong, but she was going to sell the house and move into an assisted living center. I guess I didn't know that it would be the last time I saw her, but I'm not sure it would have made much of a difference. I gave her a hug and thanked her as I left and she smiled and thanked me for coming and I felt like she meant it.

She was 93. And now she has finally returned home to be with the Lord who loves her. I will miss her, but I'm pretty sure she's where she always wanted to be in the first place.

Please send out a prayer for my Aunt and for her loved ones who might still be grieving.

Inspiration costs more!

I've been smashing my head against the wall since Sunday trying to figure out what to do about my half completed film now that my actors are no longer able to help me finish it and the deadline is two weeks from today. Though I've head plenty of ideas, none of them really sat right with me, as the film was a complicated mix of religion, humor and bizarreness that worked together. Replacing one moment of bizarreness for another wouldn't necessarily work. The elements all had to fit together to work.

I was finally at that point today when I was ready to set my mind to a particular idea that would finish the film, but wouldn't make a great film. I was just going about figuring out the logistics of this new idea - what footage I would need, what new props, etc... when I suddenly had a very funny vision and my mind seized upon it.

Though I had an idea and it would have worked, it wasn't the genius solution I had been hoping for. This new idea is genius. By holding out as long as I did, I was able to arrive at the idea that I really needed.

Which just goes to show you, ideas are cheap. Inspiration costs more.

Getting Old Isn't All Bad

Item: I had an early senior moment on Sunday. I was reading one of the hymns in church and my mind did one of those old people things and I suddenly had to chuckle because instead of praising the truine God, I was praising the Itune God ;)

Item: I had an extremely unproductive weekend. In terms of school disasters, it ranked right up there with the time that my two part 64 page epic short story got erased before I could print it out for school and I had to start over from scratch with a week left before it was due (as I recall it came out better, but we won't go there). I was trying to finish my film this weekend with three actors. One of the three actors kept telling me that he'd be there, but when I was ready with everyone else and the equipment he bailed on me - not once, but twice! In both cases I had to apologize to the other actors and send them on their way, but in the meantime, I wasted my entire weekend getting nothing done. To say that I was mad was an understatement. But one of the nice things about getting older is that I find it easier to have my anger assuaged. After my team finished first in The Amazing Race, I suddenly realized that I was no longer mad. I don't think I've ever felt so angry about something and then came to a true sense of peace about it in so short a period of time in my life. But God knew that I needed to get to that place, so He simply took away my anger. That's the best description I can give for it. There were more important matters on God's agenda than me being mad. And so, all is forgiven and forgotten. And now comes the question of how to put this bloody film mess back together again in so short a time.

Item: I had the distinct pleasure of watching my Dad and my Uncle (both old enough to know better) get in trouble this weekend. It wasn't one of those serious kinds of trouble, more of a scolding, but it was like one of those deja vu moments from my childhood only in reverse. Very character revealing.

Item: My brother hit a major rough patch in his life when he turned 40 this year. He's fast approaching his 41st birthday and I'd like to say that his life has never been better. My brother can be a real jerk sometimes, but when he isn't, he's one of the coolest guys I know. I mention this mostly because 40 is still two years away for me, and I'd like to think that I'll approach it with grace and dignity. But I'm worried that I'll freak out and succumb to some sort of mid-life crisis like others have. As a writer who lives in his head a little too much, the possibility definitely exists. I hope you'll all be around to straighten me out if I should get a little bent.

Item: It's easier to keep secrets as you get older. As these are the holidays, that's all I'm going to say for now.

Have a good week and remember that it is both fitting and wonderful to follow the Itune God. ;)

McCain Pushes To Put Jesus On Dollar Bill

SALT LAKE CITY (CAP) - Republican Presidential candidate John McCain today called upon the United States to pay homage to its alleged Christian roots by replacing George Washington on the $1 bill with a more appropriate image, that of Jesus Christ.

The plea surprised some political analysts, who had assumed that McCain's reference to the U.S. as a 'Christian nation' in a recent Beliefnet interview was nothing more than pandering to the base.

"I dunno, maybe he did get loopy for the Lord somewhere out there on the Straight-Talk Express," one reporter told CAP News. "I had to cover that thing for two days in June, and I know I was praying to get the hell off."

Speaking at the annual Cattlemen for Christ convention in Salt Lake City, McCain said that his first act upon becoming President would be to sign into law a provision that would strip the $1 bill of the country's famous founder and replace it with "the nation's true spiritual founder, our Lord Jesus Christ."

"The beautiful thing about the $1 bill is that even the poor can afford them, just like they can afford the teachings of Jesus," McCain said to boisterous mooing. "Some think we should call it Messiah Money or Christ Cash, but I'm personally in favor of a shift in emphasis, from the one dollar bill to The One dollar bill."

While critics were quick to quietly question McCain's motives and the costs associated with such a massive overhaul of the nation's most popular currency bill, McCain's fellow Republican Presidential candidates were left scrambling to one-up the senator with their own monetary proposals.

The race's only Mormon, former Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney, said he would put a smiling Jesus on multiple bills, noting, "I want to see the same thing when I open my wallet as I do when I open my bedroom door: many smiling faces."

For former New York mayor and terrorism-survivor Rudy Giuliani, Jesus would only adorn the $20 bill.

"What is 20? 9+11. Need I say more?" Giuliani said.

Bypassing Jesus entirely and heading right to the nation's first Republican saint, Fred Thompson would put a picture of Ronald Reagan on "some bill, I don't know, we're looking into it."

You can't corrupt those who don't read...

I was worried that this apology might offend my readers considering its R rated nature, then I realized that nobody reads my blog anyway, so it won't matter. ;)

I would like to apologize for a particular bane of human existence as its all based on a terrible typo that I made.

You see, I work for a particular company that sells pens. And I've been trying to sell one particular pen for a long time. Its been languishing in the doldrums for years now, just collecting dust. The problem is that this particular writing instrument is larger than other writing instruments, too big really to hold in your hand. And since most people prefer their writing implements small so that they can get a firm grip on them, well, this was a hard sell.

So, I had this idea for a mass marketing e-mail to help sell this particular item. I decided on a great headline, "'Embiggen your Pen!' is the rallying cry of a new generation!" Unfortunately, my overseas counterparts got the English translation wrong, and the headline instead read, "Embiggen your Penis the rallying cry of a new generation, which further got refined to, "Embiggen your penis - the rallying cry of a new generation," and finally just to "Embiggen your penis". This mass e-mail got sent to everyone, or so I hear, but people, naturally, refused to open it. And so they never got to find out about our pen.

More's the pity, because its a really great instrument and it really can do wonders for your sex life. Oh, I'm sorry... another typo there. What I meant to say was, it really can do wonders for your sec's life - as in secretary. What did you think I meant? ;)

This has been another cautionary tale from the fevered mind of Lanz Franco.

I'm tired of being reasonable

I know the Good Book says to love my enemies, but first I have to admit that I have enemies. The people that hack me off the most are any unreasonable, over compensating, individuals or groups who are the enemies of all things that I hold dear - fair play, honesty, freedom, love, and God. Right now, one group in particular has made me very angry.

To those people who have arrested a teacher in Sudan because her students named a teddy bear Muhammad (after a boy in class, by the way) you need to grow up and get a life or Allah is going to personally spank you for being brats. A Teddy Bear is not the prophet. Nobody but you seems to think that this is an insult to the prophet. While I didn't agree with your stance on the whole Danish cartoon thing, I at least understood where you were coming from in that argument. In this one, you're just plain wrong. Period. End of line.

So grow up and release the teacher! Or you will have the enmity of at least one American and probably a great many other reasonable human beings raining down on you in the near future.

P.S. I still love you even though it hurts my heart.

Prepare to be impressed!

The Definitive Answer on Free Will and Why Time Travel Is Impossible!
A Scholarly Treatise of Immense Religious And Scientific Importance!
Read It Now And Nominate Me For Whatever Nobel Prize I Deserve!

Okay, maybe its not all that hype worthy, because it depends so much on faith and not a whole lot on science, except that if you believe one, then the other must follow.

Here's how it all begins - Exodus, Chapter (10-11, somewhere in there). God through Moses through Aaron baits Pharoah - let my people go or... fill in nasty plague here. If you don't, then I will surely send a plague of locusts, etc... tomorrow. So, here's the thing that drives me nuts. My NIV Bible tries to explain away this judgment from God as making perfectly logical sense based on the time of year, the previous plague and other atmospheric data, and, the tendency of locusts, flies, floods, etc... to occur in Egypt all the time. As if it were that simple. But then it occurs to me, okay - even if that were the case, how did God know that such a plague would occur at precisely that time? And if it was going to occur naturally anyway, what if Pharoah had said, "Okay, you win. Take your people and go?" Would God have been able to stop a naturally occuring plague from striking if all He was doing was looking into the future and seeing something that was going to happen anyway? But if God knew what was going to happen in the future, what does that do with our free will? Questions without answers, it seems, until I finally figured something out.

The key to the whole thing is that we were made in God's image. God gave us free will, but God never claimed that He didn't also have free will. You've got free will, but doesn't it feel like sometimes you have no choice but to do X even though you don't want to? Other people can, one by one, strip you of your options until you only have one choice that day. Its either do X or die. But you still have Free Will. You can always choose to die - you still have that other choice. So if, with our own free will, we can limit the choices of others to the point where they only have one real option left to them - i.e. do what we want them to do - then why can't we also prescribe to God the exact same ability?

Add to this ability of free will is God's omniscience. He knows everything, he sees everything, and he knows how its all going to come out. God can see the future and He can rig it so that all the good people win and all the bad people lose by using His free will to subtly make things so that you have a very limited number of choices (good or bad, right or wrong, God or... oblivion). Ultimately, its up to you to make that choice. Ultimately, you have free will - even if the choice you're going to make is known by God in advance.

Pharoah could choose to let the Hebrews go at any time he wants, but God already knows that Pharoah won't until after Passover. He's looked ahead and seen what's coming in Chapter 12 even while we're back at Chapter 5. So, He can see that there will be a plague of locusts and that this will cause Pharoah distress but that he will still not let Moses' people go.

But how can God be absolutely certain that Pharoah won't change his mind? Because we only get once chance to make the right choice. God may give us plenty of choices to make, but we only get one chance per choice. Time does not move backwards for us. Ever. And every choice we make is inviolate. It can not be undone. It can not be altered after the fact. Every step we take is forward, never backwards.

Because if we could go back and undo a choice we made, if we could "redo" our bad decisions, then we could alter and undo everything that's already been done. We could, in essence, make a liar of God's omniscience. And when the locust plague didn't show up as God had said it would, we would show God to be a fake.

But since we know that God is all knowing and all powerful, we also know that this can not be done. That nothing and no one can undo what God has done, except God.

Therefore, time travel - or more specifically, time travel that allows for interaction with and the possibility of alteration of the past - is not possible. Free will is still free will... but it only goes in one direction.

You may now start the Nobel Committee letter writing campaign and I promise to humbly accept my award next year on behalf of the blogosphere.

Thank you.

Thankful For Mud and Crud

My sister's excellent Thanksgiving blog (at Superstar) kind of stole my thunder because she summed up what it is to be truly thankful in these hard times - to thank God for kids and family and job and health and all those other things. Its not that I'm not thankful for those things, although I admit to sometimes taking them for granted, its just that when I look back on this year I find myself being thankful for mud and for crud more than for happiness and health.

Its great, of course, to be happy and healthy, but if you're lost in the woods of life, happiness and health are overrated commodities - especially when you don't even realize that you're lost. Sometimes we should be thankful for just as many wrong turns as we should be thankful for the right ones.

So my list of thankful moments begins with Mud - particularly the mud of Westminster Woods just a few weeks ago when I was trudging around trying to build a playground in the rain. Why would I be thankful for mud? Wouldn't a nice bright sunshiny day have been more pleasant? Absolutely, but when you want to be reminded what being truly alive and doing God's work is really like, a little mud adds that je ne sais quot touch (colloquial French increases the educational level of this blog, right?), that divine layer of authenticism. Wallowing in the mud is such a metaphor for what we must do in order to be effective for God that its almost as subtle as being hit over the head with a crowbar, maul or... uh, whatever that other tool was. It was also fun. Lots of fun. And a great and wonderful reminder of what fun it is to embrace nature. So, I am particularly thankful for Mud this year.

Not that Crud takes a back seat to anyone. I dealt with a great deal of it this year - from a minor painful issue with my brother to a blow up at church with a friend to a serious setback in Film school. Each time I was reminded that I am not special, that I am not above causing pain, and that I have a great deal to remember in being a good Christian and a good person. When we don't interact socially, we aren't refined the way we need to be - our edges get a little sharp and brittle. Dealing with other people tends to shake up our view of the world and helps us blunt the sharp edges and become more rounded individuals and better Christians. Every time I'm hit in the face with the Zoo Monkey Crud of life, I take a step back, shocked, and then wipe the stink from my face. I don't always throw the crud, but I'm always close enough to be hit by it. It always stinks. It always stings. It always leaves a stain. But it always leaves me a little better at dodging it the next time. Getting hit with crud is God's way of refining us and reminding us that our crud does stink too. So I am thankful for crud and say, "Bring it on!"

Oh, and maybe its a good idea to roll down a window...

May you all be prepared to dodge the crud and embrace the mud this weekend.

Happy Thanksgiving!

There's never enough happiness

In which your humble correspondent explains to you the secret of happiness...

As a writer, I am fueled by happiness. No, not the mind tripping, day at Disneyland variety, but the average run of the mill everything is running smoothly variety. I have never been able to work when I am sad or angry or just bothered - hot or cold. In order for me to go visit my writer's place, I need to be sure that the regular world is going along just fine.

And so, it occurred to me as a passing fancy the other day, that if I could only just be happy all the time, then I could get a lot more writing done.

Phhfft! Fat chance!

Other than living off a steady supply of prozac or other narcotics, there is absolutely no way to be happy all the time... or is there? As human beings, we have been searching for the source of true happiness since time began. We have tried love, money, drugs, magic, religion, and all sorts of other remedies, but we've never quite gotten that one thing that is the source of true happiness. True and lasting happiness doesn't exist, does it?

So what chance did I have in finding true happiness if nobody ever had enough happiness for themselves. Happiness, then, being a commodity that we all like to hoard for ourselves and we can never get enough of it. And that was when I made a breakthrough and discovered the secret.

We can't be happy all the time because true happiness can only be given, not received.

Think about it. What have you done in your life that guaranteed you happiness? Nothing. Not one thing. You have been happy in the past, sure, but where did that happiness come from? Someone else. If it was that pony that you wanted as a child, that your grandpa gave to you as a birthday present, suddenly you were extremely happy. Did you get the pony yourself? No. Had you gotten the pony yourself, would you have been happy? Probably not, unless the struggle to earn the pony made you feel that you were lucky to have it - that someone or something had provided it for you. So happiness can only be given, and the only way to get happiness is to have it given to you.

So, how do you get enough happiness to last a life time? You give it out as much as possible. The more you give, the more you receive.

Darn, that God was sure clever to invent a system like that, virtually guaranteeing that we would be nice to each other... if only to be nice to ourselves.

Pop Quiz, Round Two Answers

Because I know you've been waiting for this all week...

1) C
2) C
3) D
4) D
5) B
6) C
7) A
8) B
9) E
10)D

This blog thingy

See Will blog. Will blogs well. Will blogs fast. Blog is easy to read. Blog is fun. Blog, Will, blog.

(Apparently, this blog is not erudite enough to qualify for the higher echelons of our educational system. While a paradigm shift could be attempted, I do not like to acknowledge the obvious social stratification that is rigidly enforced by such a maneuver. Besides, I like to keep all the big words for my Novel - where I get paid for them. ;)

First a little geography lesson for Disney

A Magical Journey Begins for 100 High School Students Headed to Disney's Dreamers Academy

Walt Disney World Resort and Celebrity Radio Personality Steve Harvey Announce Participants

(November 14, 2007) Walt Disney World Resort will open the doors of the magic behind Disney to 100 creative and imaginative teens from New York to New Orleans, from Compton, CA., to Wichita, that is, from all across the United States, who have been selected to participate in Disney's Dreamers Academy. Disney worked with nationally syndicated radio personality Steve Harvey to create this innovative program.

Okay, so I checked out the list. Fortunately, with 100 participants its easy to do the stats. So how does their participant breakdown work for the United States? A full 6% of the people on the list come from the Western United States - and every single one of them comes from a city in southern California within 100 miles of Anaheim. So basically, all around the United States translates into the east coast and LA.

It's bad enough taking this biased view of the US from sports writers, but do we have to endure it from corporate giants like Disney as well. 6 people west of the Mississippi represent over half the nation. Pathetic.

First thing they should teach these kids is some geography. Who knows? Maybe they'll learn something themselves.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

The Amazing Race is taking applications again and unfortunately, due to certain contractual rules that I signed with CBS, I can't ask my previous askee, Beach, to join me - if I should decide to enter again.

So before I commit to such an endeavor, I need a partner.

Wanted: A telegenic partner eager to race around the world, endure my bad puns, and generally make me look good by doing all the tough challenges while I preen and strut my ego before the camera and then cry during the interviews about how brave a team mate you are and how our relationship is stregthening as a result. Oh, and if there's a challenge with a zipline, I get to do it.

So, any takers?

Simple Gift

I always have a very emotional Veteran's Day. I think for anyone who has ever donned a uniform, especially during a time of war or conflict, there will always be mixed emotions on this day. On the one hand, there is a very profound feeling of pride and accomplishment at having served your country. I always get this very Heinleinesque feeling of duty, honor, and responsibility when I think of the fact that I am a Veteran - that I put my patriotism into action, that I walked what I talked. But on the other hand, being a veteran almost always forces us to recall some sacrifice, some horror, and some innocence lost. No matter what you do in the military, you always shed something in order to feed the tree of liberty.

And so, this Veteran's Day, falling on a Sunday as it did, I found myself in church being honored and feeling small. As it so happened, our choir was singing A Simple Gift - a Shaker tune - about the simple gifts God bestows upon us. I was struck by the fact that this beloved tune was being sung on Veteran's Day and that the Shakers are one group known for their pacifism. To me, there was nothing wrong with that. Every soldier will agree that a little less war would be okay.

Before the service, my Pastor walked up to me and asked if I would read the Litany for Veterans, representing all the church veterans with my voice. I told him that I would be honored.

The service started and the thoughts began at the same time. My entire Veteran's Day experience always revolves around one particular incident. I only "knew" one soldier killed during the Gulf War. He was a quiet kid who had been in our school's ROTC program. So when it comes time to honor the fallen soldiers, I always think of him - even though I'm not sure I ever spoke a word to him in four years of High School. But I can't help but thinking of other sacrifices made during that war.

The incident occured near the end of the war, after the Marines and the Army had already pretty much taken back all of Kuwait and were driving on Baghdad. By that point, I had transfered away from my analyst job because we'd pretty much obliterated the Iraqi Navy already and was working with the Marines sending intel photos via an overglorified fax machine to the Third Marine Air Wing in Saudi Arabia. We got a dispatch from a marine recon unit that some Iraqi soldiers were setting up an anti-ship battery somewhere on the coast - with the intent of firing a missile at our carriers in the Gulf. The Marines spotted the battery with photo reconnaissance and determined the coordinates and had me fax the photo to the 3rd Marine Air Wing. In nearly real time, we "watched" as a Marine Harrier jet streaked in and blew the missile battery to bits - killing all three Iraqi soldiers instantly.

To my knowledge, its the only time I ever took part in the killing of other human beings. Boys, teenagers, like myself, who had maybe joined the Iraqi army to get enough money to go to college, or start a business, or raise a family; blown to bits. Dead. Finished. Gone. They would never again speak to their parents, or kiss their girlfriends, or pray, or laugh. They were simply gone. And I had had a part in their demise.

If Hell is the complete absense of God, then War is surely Hell.

And so, with these thoughts, I stood up to sing Simple Gift. The young teens began by playing a simple chord progression on the handbells, followed by a young lady on the viola, and then the choir began to sing.

"Its a gift to be simple, its a gift to be kind, its a gift to smile and to share a happy mind, its a gift from the Father, as we go on our way, with a joyful song at the end of the day."

The music, the voices, and then, the organ - subtly reinforcing all that had gone before - and all of a sudden I felt It. The Holy Spirit swirled around me and danced with the music and the young musicians and on top of the Choir's heads, and I suddenly couldn't contain the joy that was in my heart - the joy of God consuming me like fire.

From the depths of despair at an act of violence to the heights of joy at an act of worship, I ran the gamut on Veteran's Day. And when I read the Litany, my voice was not my own. My mind was on the families of the deceased, quietly mourning their loved ones who never returned, and on those still engaged in combat, who are even now fighting for their survival and being forced to kill in order to claim a dubious, human, victory.

We are called Veterans because we have been asked to sacrifice ourselves or our selves for the greater good. We do this willingly. And we bear the scars of our struggles.

In the end, its not such a simple gift after all.

Pop Quiz, Hot Shot - Round Two "Comics"

So, you think you did well on Star Wars trivia? Now you have to show your true geeky metal by answering these Trivia Questions from the comics (both Marvel and DC). I'll try to stick to the sort of general knowledge type questions (not the name of the Avengers butler, for instance ;)

1) Wolverine first appeared in which Marvel Comic?

a) X-Men
b) The Uncanny X-Men
c) The Incredible Hulk
d) Tales of the Strange

2) Superman was finally killed by which bad guy?

a) Juggernaut
b) Lex Luthor
c) Doomsday
d) Batman

3) The writers of Batman decided to kill Jason Todd because...

a) He was annoying
b) He was no Robin
c) The fans voted to have him killed
d) All of the above

4) Daredevil was outed by which character?

a) His reporter friend, Ben
b) His lawyer buddy, Foggy
c) Electra
d) His ex-girlfriend, Karen

5) After Superman died, which D.C. character went on a murderous rampage that left hundreds of characters dead and a city destroyed?

a) Batman
b) Green Lantern
c) Lobos
d) Martian Manhunter

6) Spiderman #1 was written and drawn by which famous comic book artist.

a) Stan Lee
b) Jack Kirby
c) Todd McFarlane
d) Jim Lee

7) Which one of these men has not played Batman in the movies?

a) Dick Grayson
b) George Clooney
c) Christian Bale
d) Val Kilmer

8) Where did the X-Men get their blackbird plane?

a) Government loan
b) Alien civilization
c) Time Travel
d) Magneto built it for them

9) Which one of these men has not played the Joker in the movies?

a) Cesar Romero
b) Jack Nicholson
c) Mark Hamill
d) Heath Ledger
e) None of the above

10) Which of these characters was not an original X-man?

a) Cyclops
b) Beast
c) Iceman
d) Storm

As usual, do your best and leave your answers below. The answers will be listed on Monday.

Climbing out of the valley

I had a day from Hell yesterday. I mean that literally. I was definitely walking through the dark valley, with no sunshine, and no chance of seeing the light at all. Thankfully, I was able to end the day without any major damage. But for a brief while there I was starting to sympathize with Job.

I finished writing really late Tuesday night. There was a chapter I just wanted to get done, and so I forced myself to finish it. But the problem with writing late is that I always need time to unwind afterwards. You get your brain working at a peak level of activity and it produces, but then you want to just shut it down cold as soon as you're done and it can't unstimulate so quickly. So I climbed into bed, physically exhausted but mentally doing gymnastics, and tossed and turned - my brain stimulating my body and vice versa. Then, to top it off, some mouse was burrowing in my walls to make a nest (it was rather cold) for the winter. It was well past 3am before I was finally able to convince the Extreme Nest Makeover unit to knock it off and I drifted off to sleep.

Four hours later, I woke up and dragged myself to work already despairing a long day of boring paperwork on little sleep. But shortly after I got here, I got a call from my accountant telling me that one of my credit cards had called to tell tales of unusual activity. I immediately called my credit card and we cancelled the card right away. Then, I spent an hour and a half changing my AOL password, before deciding to spend the rest of the day trying to eliminate a virus from my computer. All on four hour's sleep.

By the time I got home, I was ready to crash. But I forced myself to stay awake until 10pm, and then I just climbed back into my bed, pulled the warm covers over me, and slipped off into dreamy bliss.

Maybe its a thing you do as you get older - blaming God for your troubles. I used to read the Bible and wonder how these really righteous people could turn to God and ask, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" But now that I'm a little older, I start wondering when bad things happen - where is God out there? Why isn't He protecting me?

I know what the atheists would say, but they would be wrong. Instead, I turn to look at all the things that God did do for me yesterday.

I had a home to sleep in (and share with a nice but noisy mouse neighbor during the winter months). I had a car to drive and money to spend on gas (lots and lots of money). I had a job to go to that paid me money to spend on gas (less and less money). I had a computer to use that could get virused and software that allegedly prevented those viruses. I had a credit card that I could use to keep my gas guzzling car running. I had a family to return to and friends to read my blog. God has blessed me.

My God, my God, why hast thou been so good to me?

And then the sun shines through the clouds and illuminates even the darkest valleys.

Failure

I hate to fail. Absolutely hate it. I'd rather have a root canal than fail at anything. Which, of course, is completely unrealistic since we all fall flat on our faces sometimes, but for me, its almost pathological how much I hate failure.

So, of course, I'm a writer. And now a film maker. Two potential careers rife with the possibility... no, promise of failure. I will fall again and again and again and will be sick to my stomach each time.

I don't care what anyone says about having to fail in order to succeed. I want to avoid that so much, I'll put off success if it means one more day without failure. But alas, I can't avoid it entirely.

Last week, I failed. Big time. Bombed entirely. Though I had managed to work at such a high level in my film classes up until that point, aceing every test, paper, and project that was due - my one failure was enough to put my entire film career in jeopardy. I came home, depressed, despondent, and utterly convinced that I would never amount to anything - let alone a film maker. It made me sick. I imagined all the other careers I might as well try, since I clearly was never cut out to ever be a film maker. But I knew that I'd fail at all those as well.

I guess I wasn't taking this failure very well.

At some point you begin to think irrational things and you rail at God. Why? Why am I such a failure at everything I do? Can't you just help me succeed at one thing? Where is the payoff for all this faith? Why can't I be successful?

I'm sure that He put His arm around me and let me rail some more, without ever letting me go off the deep end. The thing is that even while I was railing, and even while I was being bitter, and even while I was wallowing in my failure, I knew that I wasn't a failure. Part of me was detached - calm - telling me to just let it all out, to think all the negative things I wanted, and to be as irrational as I could, so that I could get the poison out of my system and get back to work.

By the weekend, I was back making films. Last night, I spent three hours mesmerized by the guy who did the sound work for Good Will Hunting (amongst other things) and realizing that I could already do his job now (by knowledge, not by skill!) And tonight I return to the scene of my utter failure, calmer, wiser and ultimately better prepared to succeed.

I may have to fail in order to go forward. But I don't ever have to like it.

Answers

And so, here are the answers to my last post:

1) D) Darth Vader - young Anakin Skywalker eventually becomes Darth Vader, as seen in Episode 3.

2) C) Camino - The Cloner planet is named after a car. George Lucas is a big car guy. That's why you have the pod race in Episode 1.

3) B) The Death Star Plans - apparently it takes a long time to build a Death Star the first time.

4) C) To turn off the beacon - initially, Yoda and Obi-Wan return to Coruscant to turn off the Emergency Recall beacon set by Anakin to lure thousands of renegade Jedi to their deaths.

5) A) Nobody... unfortunately.

6) B) He dumped his cargo before being boarded (Even I get boarded once in a while!) Though knowing Han Solo, probably all of the above would also be a correct answer.

7) D) Porkins... "Porkins, pull up!" "I'm okay!" "Pull up!" "Aaaaarrrrgghhh!"

8) C) Hoth - Luke is just about to die of cold related stupidity when Obi-Wan finally figures out how to appear to young Luke from beyond the grave and tells him about Yoda.

9) B) Leia - At first, Luke tries to call Obi-wan for help, but his connection isn't good, so he instead instinctively turns to his unknown sister.

10) D) C3PO - Although, C3PO has no idea that he's pretending to be a god at the time, but when the son of the maker tells you to do something, you do it!

Pop Quiz, Hot Shot - Round One "Star Wars"

Please answer the following questions (actual answers will be posted on Thursday, Nov. 1st):

Episode 1:

1) The little boy who is a main character in Episode 1 grows up to be:
a) Han Solo
b) Luke Skywalker
c) Jabba the Hutt
d) Darth Vader

Episode 2:

2) The planet of the cloners is named after what car name?
a) Impala
b) Corona
c) Camino
d) Fairlane

3) What does Count Dooku carry with him to Coruscant at the end of the movie?
a) Anakin's lightsaber
b) The Death Star plans
c) Yoda's head
d) The body of Ymoth Treadle

Episode 3:

4) After Order 66, why do Yoda and Obi-Wan return to Coruscant?
a) To fight the Emporer
b) To kill Anakin
c) To turn off the beacon
d) To shop for new landspeeder parts

5) Who kills Jar Jar Binks?
a) Nobody.
b) Chewbacca
c) Yoda
d) Anakin Skywalker

Episode 4:

6) Why does Han Solo have a price on his head?
a) He stole money from Greedo
b) He dumped his cargo before being boarded
c) Killing stormtroopers
d) He stole the Millenium Falcon from Lando Calrissian

7) Who is the first pilot to die during the Death Star battle?
a) Wedge
b) Tyler
c) Hicks
d) Porkins

Episode 5:

8) Where is Luke when he first hears of Yoda?
a) Dagobah
b) Coruscant
c) Hoth
d) The moons of Yavin

9) Who hears Luke when he calls for help?
a) Yoda
b) Leia
c) Lando
d) R2D2

Episode 6:

10) Which character pretends to be a god?
a) The Emperor
b) Darth Vader
c) Luke Skywalker
d) C3PO

P.S. These are incredibly easy... don't worry, they'll get harder as the rounds go on.

Claustraphobia

I am not immune to phobias, though I never know when they are going to strike. I can stand on top of a building for 12 hours straight, but suddenly find myself afraid of heights crossing a bridge. Its an irrational fear that never rises to the level of checking myself in to a Mel Brooks kind of High Anxiety hospital, but it is a real palpable feeling.

I remember once wrapping myself up tight in my blankets, in an almost cocoon, to stay warm one cold night (something I still do to this day). Just as I got myself perfectly secured so that all the cold air remained outside my blankets and my body temp could warm the air around me inside the blankets, I was suddenly overcome with a terrible feeling of claustrophobia. I remember this blinding terror that I would be trapped inside these blankets and suffocate. I thrashed crazily and managed to unwrap the blankets in a matter of seconds and then sat bolt upright in my bed, panting and perspiring in the cold air. It was stupid. But the feeling had been as real as anything I have ever experienced.

Sometimes I have other irrational fears and thoughts. They just come over me. "What if God isn't real? What if the Bible's got it wrong? What if I stopped believing in God? Or worse, what if I never really believed in Him at all?" The same blind panic overcomes me and I mentally thrash around for a few seconds until I can get my bearings straight again.

These faith tremors don't strike all the time. They are fairly infrequent and are often quelled with a redoubled effort in faith - "Don't be ridiculous!" I wonder sometimes if these are the birth pangs of strengthened faith; that every time I need more faith to get through things, I first go through these episodic tornadoes of doubt.

When I read recently of Mother Theresa's doubts about her faith that she privately confessed to a senior pastor in letters, it made me smile. If Mother Theresa could have these small hurricanes of doubt then my doubt was perfectly normal, and perhaps a sign that I was being drawn further into Christ's embrace. The more I am called to do His will, the more I have reason to doubt (or something like that - Mother Theresa undoubtedly saw many things that would have rattled her faith in a loving and compassionate God - never realizing that her very efforts were quelling others doubts about the exact same thing).

I think we tend to fear our doubts in quiet times so that when we really need our faith, we don't have to doubt that it is there - sort of like little faith fire drills. It is only in the quiet times that we have the ability to properly reflect on the things we have seen and done, and only in those times that doubt can attack us.

When it comes to being human, alas, most of us follow the example of St. Thomas.

Porno for Pudgies

Or Erotica for Easy Chairists...

The whole point, to me anyway, of porn or erotica is to create in the mind a fantasy like state whereby we con ourselves into thinking, however briefly, that we might someday be able to do or see the things listed in the magazines in real life. Naked pictues of beautiful women - I wouldn't mind seeing that for real someday again. Stories of seducing beautiful college girls at the local sorority - yeah, it could happen to me! Honest!

But lately, I've become seduced by another type of erotica, another quality of porn. After a brief foray into my manly mountain man phase of slogging through the mud and grunting and lifting heavy things, I've become convinced that there is a Neanderthal hiding inside my office chair framed body. And this new erotica that I have been seeing and reading has only convinced me that I could let this Neanderthal out and become the kind of person I read about in these fantasies.

Yeah, I'm talking about National Geographic's Adventure Magazine which is hard core adventure porn for pudgy people like myself. When I read about climbing Mt. Everest, or Mt. Kenya, or hiking through Red Rock outside Vegas, or kayaking down an obscure Alaskan river where I won't see anyone for nearly five days, I start to picture myself in such situations and feel my inner Neanderthal crying to be let loose. I want to climb. I want to hike. I want to live for days on nothing but freeze dried pork. I want to haul my tent, kayak, and supplies through mountain terrain and scare off bears with nothing more than a growl and standing tall. I want to stand on top of the world, ice covering my scraggly beard, and text message Andy at the beach thousands of miles away.

Of course, I've got a better shot with those sorority girls, but that's the thing about fantasies. They seem so real... until you drag them out under the inscrutible light of day and you realize that they are merely desires, figments of an overactive imagination.

Not that I'm going to stop reading Adventure magazine, mind you. A little porn is healthy and can spur all sorts of crazy schemes to get a real fix. But, I think I'll keep my caribiner in my pocket for a little while, all the same.

Have a great weekend.

Doll-Housing Crisis Set To Worsen, Mean Older Brother Says

DAYTON, OH — According to 5-year-old Janie Wright's mean older brother, Dave, 8, if unsuitable borrowers Ken and Barbie continue to default on their high-risk subprime mortgages, it could spell the worst doll-housing crisis to hit the plastic couple since someone threw their dream home's roof out a window.

"[Ken and Barbie] were dumb and ugly so now they're going to lose their home and it's going to wind up in the garbage," said the big jerk, who predicted that since the dolls have not made a single payment, he might just have to cut off all of Barbie's hair to sell it for extra money. "Maybe they can move into a shoe box that they barely fit into. But it won't have any windows so they'll suffocate and die."

The nasty older sibling added that since Ken and Barbie never insured the dollhouse, they would have no recourse in the event of fire, flood, or stomping.

Courtesy of The Onion

Weekend Warriors of God

For five days last week, I had an amazing, arduous, and elevating experience at a small Christian camp about two hours from San Francisco. Westminster Woods is the closest camp to San Francisco that serves kids in the usual functions of a Christian camp. Winter retreats and summer camp activities have been a staple of Christian youth in this area for some forty plus years now. Last June I received a letter from them explaining that they were planning on building a new playground structure at their camp and they needed volunteers to help build it. I thought through my time committments and realized that I would, indeed, be able to attend. And so, I strapped on the weekend armor of God and drove on up.

I missed the kick off by about an hour because of traffic and the need to get some sleep after class the night before. But when I arrived, I immediately put on my heavy duty boots and waded right in. At first, being an unskilled laborer, I was asked to help carry 2 x 4's from a prep area to a routing area where the boards were going to be beveled on all edges. I did that for about thirty minutes or so before one of the sub-foremen, Gary, snagged me away to help him cut boards with the straight saws. We were only at that for about a half hour or so before the big boss, Mike, came over and "borrowed" us to help load heavy 6 x 6 timbers into place around the playground site. These 6 x 6's would form the supports for the entire playground. Our "short" stint with the timbers ended up lasting the rest of the 5 days. I never did go back to helping with the wood cutting.

After taking the heavy 6 x 6's (some of them were as long as 16 feet and required four men to carry them) and dropping them into pre-dug holes, we needed to level the boards and fill the holes with a clay like river dredge that when packed down allegedly held the support beams level. As it turned out, this task took most of the warriors the rest of the day shift and all of the night shift to complete. But as we walked off the site at 9:00pm, every single support beam was in place (or so we thought).

For the first two nights I slept in a cabin by the swimming pool with a bunch of other guys. Whereas during camp it might be normal to get to really know my cabin mates, our conversations were only cursory as we were all too tired to stay up and talk much. By 9:30pm, most of us were fast asleep.

On Thursday, I woke up at 6:00am and took a short walk. My muscles ached from the day before, but after a short walk, I was feeling much better as I headed to breakfast. Westminster Woods has always had one thing going for it that other camps don't always live up to - the food is excellent! I mean restaurant quality excellent! And plenty of it! Still, as I had known for years, the harder I worked, the less hungry I became. I ate enough to get energy for the day and that was about it.

By 8:00am, I was back on site, joining a new team of men and a boss named Trevor. Trevor is a EMT firefighter out of Petaluma with a lovely wife and three young kids. He was also a sub-foreman and a true Christian leader. Our job was to tackle the "Rock Wall" steps that formed one half of the front of the playground. Our co-warriors for this task were Dan, a pastor from Fort Bragg, Lyn, a retired member of a local church, and Gary, another retiree from the same church. Together with Trevor, we formed quite a team. By lunch time, we had already managed to raise our base platform and nailed in all the support beams and legs for every single one of the stairs. We had made incredible progress, until we discovered that the entire structure was an inch and a half too wide. We had to undo all that we had done.

As the skies grew darker and more threatening, we undid one entire side of the structure, then painstakingly reconstructed it (after moving one of the giant support beams). As is typical of anything with God, just as we were physically and emotionally and mentally exhausted, along came a new warrior (Noah) who had fresh armor. He led the reconstruction effort for us and did most of the backbreaking work. By 9:00pm that night, as we walked off the site, we had gotten all the way back to where we had been at lunch time.

And then it rained... and rained... and rained...

By the end of Friday, we were walking in mud that rose to our ankles. But during Friday, we built up our basic structure into a set of very solid stairs and ended the day by capping the 14 foot structure with a bridge that connected the two front structures. It was exhilirating and tiring. But by dinner time on Friday, I was actually feeling pretty good. Call it a second wind, or call it God's strength, but I was feeling downright giddy.

On Friday night, I was joined by the Lakeside Youth Group. They split our group up amongst two "dorms" for the youth, male and female. The major advantage to this was that our dorm was right next to the chow hall (and much closer to the work site). The disadvantage for me was that I was now chaperoning a bunch of excited teenagers at camp for the weekend on a Friday night. To be fair, they set up an Xbox game system on the meeting hall's projection screen and tied it into the surround sound system and our dorm became a video game arcade. While somewhat annoying to hear video game noise when you're trying to sleep, it did have the soporific affect on the teens that you read about in all the video game reports. They shut up and played Halo 3 and, other than messing with my dreams, there was no lasting damage done. I slept solidly on the carpeted floor - my reward for three straight days of grueling work, including one spent in the mud.

Saturday awoke with a thin fog that covered everything, but by 9am, it had burned off and we were greeted to beautiful sunny skies for the rest of the weekend. It didn't immediately dry off the mud however. Eventually, we covered the mud with rock (the base of our playground ground covering) and that made things go much quicker and much cleaner. On Saturday, we completed all of the wood paneling, support beams, and other fixtures that needed to make our structure solid - and we built the wall that would hold our "rock wall" in place.

To be fair, with 400 volunteers on Saturday, I didn't need to go at the pace I'd been going. There was a lot of standing around and waiting for wood to be cut, followed by a flurry to get the wood in place, before we stood around and waited for the next piece. Some of the youth saw me standing there and asked me if I was just tired and I would simply reply, "Hurry up and wait" - an old Navy mantra.

Of all the days, Saturday felt the most like camp to me with hundreds of youth and adults running around the camp site, laughing, giggling, hugging, and straining with the effort of getting this massive project rolling. By the end of the day, the playground looked nearly completed and almost every feature was in place or was in the process of being completed.

There was a campfire for the youth and I'd like to report what it was that was said, but it started before I was off site and I was way too tired to walk up to the fire pit and sit in. I was half asleep by the time everyone trudged back into the "dorm" to play more Halo 3, and I was fully asleep not too long after that.

By Sunday, I was really feeling it - not just in the muscles that ached and the legs that felt like hardened jello, but mentally and emotionally. Throughout the day I would alternate between fits of irrational anger, depression, and extreme joy. I was on the ragged edge of exhaustion - but I stayed until the very end.

At noon we took the group photo and there were suddenly hundreds and hundreds of volunteers that showed up that I had never seen before. It didn't matter. I disappeared behind some people into the shadows of the structure that I had helped build from the ground up, and that somehow seemed fitting. I was reminded again and again that this was not about me or my glorification - it was about making kids happy in a safe, Christian setting.

The frustrations grew and the pain grew and my emotions were held in check by only the thinnest of margins and when, at last, 5pm rolled around and we nailed in our final board, I shook Trevor's hand and walked off the site to go find someplace to sit down. I had been taken to a place that I hadn't been in a long time, but I had left it all on the field and taken none of it back with me.

I felt empty for the first ten minutes or so until I started seeing the little kids growing eager for the opening ceremony to begin. They would run around, hugging one another with smiles as broad and as deep as the Nile. Though they had been put through the emotional ringer for young children, waiting for a structure to be built by their parents while they toughed it out in day care, the feelings and emotions of anxiety that their little hearts had been dealing with melted away with the anticipation of the good times to come. My emptiness began to fill up with the love of God and the feelings of His pleasure which was palpable in that formerly muddy field.

We opened the playstructure after a brief ceremony and a lovely prayer and I watched the kids flood onto the structure that I had built and immediately run up the steps that I had constructed to the bridge that I had stood on for nearly two days - delighted in the ability to finally realize their imaginations. And that was that. After saying goodbye to everyone, I hopped in my car and drove home - not needing any more thanks than that which I had received from kids too excited to form the words.

My armor was dinged up. My emotions were raw. My exhaustion both physical and mental. And yet I was feeling strong and powerful. I was soaring like on the wings of an eagle.

Making a living vs. Making a life

Have you ever filled out one of those job surveys that purportedly tell you the job you'd most be suited to doing? A scantron with the amazing powers of observation - a scientifically proven method of determining temperment and skill set to best utilize the skills and education you've obtained. Have you ever noticed how much you bristle when someone asks you what you do for a living, as if this somehow sums up who you are and your value to society?

But we're MUCH smarter than a scantron, aren't we? We all left high school and headed off to our prospective careers without ever changing our mind, didn't we? Of course not. Because we, unlike a scantron sheet, have ever differing opinions about what we'd like to be doing. As my brother so famously told his teachers when he was in 3rd grade and he was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, "I want to be a brain surgeon... or a garbage man." I've always secretly wanted to be a truck driver, but I'll keep my day job for now.

Even then, when we find a career that we like and that suits us, we quickly lose our joy in doing the work. It becomes work. It becomes toil. It is a painful reminder that our best dreams are only mere shadows of true happiness. Even the best tasks on the planet, leave us unfulfilled and frustrated. They may pay big money, or provide lots of travel opportunities, or fill our sense of pride, or command great respect, or just keep the food on the table, but no matter what, they are just jobs. Jobs that we choose to do.

But God laughs at both scantron and our own choice of living. He knows that we don't have a clue as to who we really are or what we are truly capable of doing or becoming. He knows the number of hairs on our head, how much better is He at determining what our best job would be? The only caveat to God's perfect resume for our lives is that He's not concerned with our advancement up some corporate ladder. He wants us to advance in life, to advance in love, and to advance in Him.

For myself, I somehow ended up working as a product manager at an import/export company. I also am writing a novel and learning how to work with film in hopes of being a producer someday. The only occupational skill test I ever took was for the Navy and they desperately wanted me to run Nuclear Power plants (I told them in true 60's Hippie Fashion, "Hell no, I won't glow!" ;) But God has me singing, playing handbells, and joyfully running around like a teenage maniac while dodging footballs being thrown at my head. I'm not quite sure what skill set is required for this job, but I find that the job suits me in a way that nothing else does. Its like He knows me better than I do myself.

As I head off for Westminster Woods Christian camp tomorrow morning to help them build a brand new playground, I can't help but ponder the journey that God has nudged me into taking so that I might be here right now serving Him in this manner. Though I have gone to a four year school and gotten a degree and attended many Navy training classes and spent years sludging away in the business world, it is a skill set I learned in youth group that best serves me now to do the job that gives me the most joy in my heart. God knew then what I would need to know now and He provided me with the training.

I can't wait to see what sort of job awaits me once I perfect the Christian TV Theme Songs skill. ;)

Diet Craze Sweeps The Nation

Sounds like the title of one of those spam e-mails, donit? Well, it isn't. I'm here to tell you about a new scientific method for reducing your weight that doesn't require you to have a specific diet and that doesn't involve taking any sort of medication (except Asprin for headaches, Ben Gay for aching muscles and bones, and other medicinal supplements as required for your own mental health). I'm talking, of course, about the new Youth Group Leader Diet.

Ever find that on Saturday evenings you are feeling listless and bored and that your energy level is just flagging? Well, one or two Saturday nights as a Youth Group Leader will change all that. Feeling listless? A quick game of dodge ball will change that in a hurry. Feeling bored? Try running around in the dark looking for a good place to hide while 11 rambunctious teenagers chase you. Energy levels flagging? Watch your adrenalin spike when a hard football whistles by your head, narrowly missing your sweat lined face by centimeters. At the end of one evening on our Youth Group Leader diet, you'll feel the pounds have slipped away along with a great deal of torn cartilage, bumps and bruises, and any last shred of coolness you once held in the eyes of teens everywhere.

But wait, that's not all! You also get to learn great old Christian songs while being targeted with well placed reproachful, yet oddly enough still enjoying things, stares. And there's Punch like you used to drink when you were a kid. And there's good old-fashioned junk food to keep those energy levels spiked to near-coronary levels. There isn't an aerobic workout like it anywhere on the planet short of the sheer terror of war!

So join us now! You know you want to! Shed those pounds and gain something infinitely more valuable in the process - Christian street cred!

Side effects may include: broken noses, rug burns, jello snorting, church fun, and becoming a much more tolerant, patient, and adventurous Christian. People on this diet should not let teens operate heavy machinery or vehicles as this may result in a loss of hair, or limbs.

FDA warning: There are old youth leaders. There are whole youth leaders. There are no old, whole youth leaders.

Weight Loss will vary from customer to customer. Ask your church pastor for more information about the effects of this diet before starting.

Grey skies are gonna clear up!

I aced my midterm test on editing. Not that this was a major accomplishment. I've already passed this class once with a very solid A. But since its a prerequisite for nearly every film class I want to take, and because the last time I passed the class was 20 years ago, I decided that perhaps I needed a refresher.

I wasn't worried. And, in fact, I guessed on a few answers. But there's no pressure. I don't need the course. I already know it. And ultimately, I already have a perfectly good BofA degree sitting on my wall collecting dust. No pressure means no mistakes. I laugh at their feeble attempts to grade my superior intellect.

Sorry, I watched The Wrath of Khan over the weekend and I'm still relishing in one of the better villains to ever grace the big screen - even if over half his dialogue was borrowed from Moby Dick.

Anyway, more importantly than some stupid film midterm, I achieved a HUGE milestone in the work on my Novel. This time, roughly a year ago, I was at about the exact same point in the Novel when I realized that there were some serious flaws in the narrative. I slugged on for a few more months and a few more chapters, but I could not undo the problems by wishing them away. I decided to go back and rewrite the entire first part of the Novel as a single book (thus breaking the Novel into three Novels). As of last night, I had finally gotten back to this same point in the first Novel and I'm happy to say that almost all of the problems from the last draft have been solved - and the one problem that remains I already know about and have a solution.

But most importantly, I have reached that point in the new Novel where almost the entire rest of the story is already written. I will need to tweak and fine tune what I have already written, but almost all of the new material has already been written. From here on out, the writing should pick up steam and I might even be done before the end of the year. So for me, this draft is nearly finished and I can already tell that it is vastly improved. And the next draft will be the final version - I PROMISE!

So put on a happy face! The Novel is almost done!

Again!

Writing from the Journey, man...

What can the new NBC show, Journeyman, tell us about dramatic structure and God? Surprisingly, a great deal as I had a recent minor epiphany in regards to my own journey and my place in the God centered universe primarily as a result of having watched Journeyman.

For those of you who have much better things to do on Monday night, I congratulate you, but I'm still going to explain the show's brief premise. The idea is that our hero becomes unstuck in time. He travels backwards and through a series of encounters over time, he helps out someone who needs help. The how and why of the show has not yet been explained, so don't ask that question. If you accept the premise, you can absorb a great deal before you begin to really question things.

So, story wise, our hero is basically going in to someone's life and helping them through some issue. Its basically the same premise as Quantum Leap, Touched by an Angel, The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, etc... Each week, our hero brings about some important change in the guest star's life that ultimately redeems them or redeems someone else. That's the part that I want to focus on.

You set up a premise as a writer - Character A will help Character B throughout each episode. People follow the premise and, depending on the acting, writing, and pacing of the show, will be rewarded at the end when Character B is helped and Character A moves on with his life. Except, when you want to record a twist, Character A helps Character B, but in reality, its Character C that he's really helping. And at the end of the episode, just when Character B is supposed to be helped, we realize that it was actually Character C that was helped and then Character A moves on with his life. Its a neat trick, and it keeps a show fresh, but ultimately it doesn't provide for a lot of variation and eventually us wily viewers can catch on to the writer's intent long before the episode ends.

SOOOO... if God is Character A, and we're the doomed, damned, and ultimately dispicable Character B, the story should follow that God will step in and through refinement, love, and general interest reform us into loving, caring, and Christian creatures. We are transformed and God moves in with His story.

Except that every once in a while, God likes to throw us a twist and we feel that God is moving us on to something big, something new, some life changing transformation, and then... nothing happens. Because, although we can't see it, God has actually been using our story to transform Character C instead. He has been moving us into place so that we can be there to help someone else come closer to God.

I don't want to go into a lot of details here, but it suddenly occurred to me this week that my being a youth leader is not about transforming me at all. He has simply put me in place in order to help someone else. Its a bit of a humbling experience to realize that you are not the Character B, the guest star, of this particular story - just the means to another end. But at the same time, its quite wonderful to see the Master at work and to realize that He would go to all that trouble to save someone else. Its a good idea to be reminded that we are not the center of God's love, that He has many rooms in His mansion and that we don't get to occupy them all. I think it also reminds us to keep our eyes open to see if we can figure out the Author's intent before its spelled out for us.

Of course, the characters never do figure it out ahead of time... but its always fun to try.

Progress Report

According to Genesis, God spells out clearly how we're going to be evaluated when the end times come.

And for your lifeblood I will surely demand an accounting. I will demand an accounting from every animal. And from each man, too, I will demand an accounting for the life of his fellow man.

Genesis 9:5

God will demand an accounting for our lifeblood - what we used it for and how we spilt it. Then he will also demand an accounting from us for the lifeblood of our fellow man - how he used it and how it was spilt and how we were involved in all that.

From the very beginning, we have not only been responsible for ourselves, but for each other as well.

So, how are you progressing on that accounting? Got all your ducks in a row, so to speak? Yeah, me neither.

Back to work.

Lonliness does strange things to people.

There is a preview out for a movie coming sometime this fall. I don't remember the name of the movie but it stars Ryan Gosling as an intensely lonely person who brings home a date to meet his sister and her husband one night - only the "date" is actually a blow up doll that this lonely guy sees as being completely real. It sounds like a perfect set up for a bizarre Farrely Brother's comedy - a send up of Guess Who's Coming To Dinner perhaps. But the preview makes it clear that this is not supposed to be a comedy, but a drama about how lonliness can really mess with people's heads.

We, of course, are huge fans of Wilson - Tom Hanks' volleyball buddy from Cast Away. Trapped on a desert island for several years, Tom Hanks' character becomes best friends with Wilson, the volleyball, and comes to see this inanimate object as his only friend. This should seem like its pretty looney, and indeed it is, but think of all the other times we delude ourselves out of lonliness. There's the relationship we thought we had, but it was entirely one sided. Or the imaginary friend we had when we were kids. Or the many myriad fantasies that run through our head with real people who are somehow nicer, kinder, and incredibly more beautiful or handsome in real life. Quite frankly, the real world suffers by comparison with the Wilson's of our world.

I know intimately the thoughts, feelings, and relationships of all my characters and I like to spend time with them every once in a while. They are both more interesting to me than real people, less fussy to deal with, and, ultimately, always do what I say - most of the time. But as with anything, fantasy characters can sometimes come strangely close to real life people. It is easy to become obsessed with these fantasy people, easy to defend their actions, to defend their words, to defend their beliefs over the objections of others. It is easy to fall in love with something and someone you are never going to meet - because they do not exist.

How far is it, then, to go from a place where you dress up in a costume for a convention to the point where you start to believe that you are actually in that world. That is perhaps something for a psychologist to answer.

Would that the real world were as easy to overcome lonliness as the world of fantasy - where lonliness could disappear as quickly as talking to someone, phoning someone, or seeing someone on the street and saying hello. There is no rejection in the fantasy world.

In that, I wonder how much the longing we have for the fantasy world is a direct correlation for our longing for a closer walk with God. The real world will never be able to compete with a fantasy place that marches to the beat of our own drum, but the fantasy place can never possibly compete with walking with Him in divine glory.

There is one cure for lonliness and several providers. Let us all make sure that our cure isn't made of plastic and air.

Post Modern Celebration

It could be because I want to be edgy and post-modern, or it could just be because I frankly just noticed. Either way... This post marks my 401st!

As Barry Bonds would say, "Okay, now show me the love!"

Periodic Recurring Online Dating Amnesia...

Occassionally I forget why it is that I hate online dating websites and I try one again. Perhaps, the addict in me says, things will have changed from the last time I tried the online dating scene and I might actually find happiness. I'm the kind of guy who gives eharmony nightmares. If I were to waste my money on such a site, I would quickly be asked to leave as I am probably crushing their harmonious statistics that make their website look successful.

The fact of the matter is, if you weren't likely to get a date before you go online, you're not likely to get one after you go online either. The factors that make you undatable in the real world will soon become evident in the online world as well.

But, I get amnesia and I go to a site like geek2geek and I post a pretty cool profile of myself (the best one I've ever written) and occassionally I get some interest. But then, something happens. I think its the lack of the millionaire, 90210 hunk, drives expensive car, vibe. Whatever it is, after about one message, if I'm lucky and they respond at all, I never hear from anyone again.

This is incredibly frustrating. I don't go to singles clubs or bars precisely because I can live my life much saner and much happier without all those "looks" one gets from prospective conversationalists. You know the look that says, "Please God, don't come over here and talk to me or I might have to chew off a limb to escape." I really don't need to pay for a site that gives me the exact same level of frustration from my home.

But, again, I forget. And I hope. And I get stonewalled. And even the women who show potential interest quickly ignore me. And I'm only left with two possibilities - either I'm a completely unlovable jerk (not my first choice) or women are extremely shallow.

My revirginated status tells me that either way, I'm not likely to ever find true love again.

See what I mean, this online dating stuff really messes with a person's confidence. I am better than anything I could ever write in an online profile. I am better in person than I could ever be online. But I still have yet to meet anyone worthy of me, either online or the real world.

My lack of feminine companionship tells me that there aren't very many gems out there to be found.

There. Now that's much better. I've just put myself above market price. Let's see if anyone can afford to date me.

JeMarcus Russel, French Existentialism, and Moneypenny...

JeMarcus Russel, French Existentialism, and Miss Moneypenny all have one thing in common - they prove that nothing can stop the tide of bad movie remakes.

Now, The Dirty Dozen is being remade. Set in modern times with a group of military convicts on death row (cause even though we're not technically at war, they have military convicts on death row, cause that's how we roll in the movies that don't need to be made) the new Dirty Dozen is being prepped for a mission to save some politician's monetary backers kidnapped daughter from Al Qaeda terrorists who, despite having done many heinous acts in the real world, have never done anything quite so heinous as the script for this Dirty Dozen remake.

You can read more about it here.

Breaking News!

AUSTRALIA GETS DRUNK, WAKES UP IN NORTH ATLANTIC
Tired of Being Isolated and Ignored, Continent Isn't Bloody Moving

Sydney, 800 miles S. of Nova Scotia (SatireWire.com) — After what witnesses described as an all night blinder during which it kept droning on about how it was always being bloody ignored by the whole bloody world and would bloody well stand to do something about it, Australia this morning woke up to find itself in the middle of the North Atlantic.
current location of australia

"Good Lord, that was a booze up," said a bleary-eyed Australian Prime Minister, John Howard, speaking from his residence at Kirribilli House, approximately 600 nautical miles east of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.

According to Australians and residents of several countries destroyed or lewdly insulted during the continent's nearly 7,000-mile saltwater stagger, the binge began just after noon yesterday at a pub in Brisbane, where several patrons were discussing Australia Day and the nation's general lack of respect from abroad.

"It started off same as always; coupla fossils saying how our Banjo Patterson was a better poet than Walt Whitman, how Con the Fruiterer is funnier than Seinfeld, only they're Aussies so no one knows about 'em," recalled witness Kevin Porter. "Then this bloke Martin pipes up and says Australia's main problem is that it's stuck in Australia, and everybody says 'Too right!'"

"Well, it made sense at the time," Porter added.

By 2 a.m., powered by national pride and alcohol, the 3-million-square-mile land mass was barging eastward through the Coral Sea and crossing into the central Pacific, leaving a trail of beer cans and Chinese take-away in its wake.

When dawn broke over the Northern Hemisphere, the continent suddenly found itself, not only upside down, but smack in the middle of the Atlantic, and according to most of its 19 million inhabitants, that's the way it's going to stay.

"We sent troops to Afghanistan. You never hear about it. We have huge government scandals. You never hear about it. It's all 'America did this,' and 'Europe says that,'" exclaimed Perth resident Paul Watson. "Well, we're right in the thick of things now, so let's just see if you can you ignore us."
former location of australia

Officials on both sides of the Atlantic conceded that would be difficult. "They broke Florida," said U.S. State Department spokesman Richard Boucher. "And most of Latin America is missing."

Meanwhile, victims of what's already been dubbed the "Australian Crawl" are still shaking off the event.

"Australia bumped into us at about midnight local time," said Hawaii governor Ben Cayetano. "They were very friendly — they always seem friendly — but they refused to go around unless we answered their questions. But the questions were impossible. 'Who is Ian Thorpe? Do you have any Tim Tams? What day is Australia Day?'"

"Fortunately, somebody here had an Unimportant World Dates calendar and we aced the last one," Cayetano added.

Panama, however, was not so lucky.

"Australia came through here screaming curses at us to let them through," said Ernesto Carnal, who guards the locks at the entrance to the Panama Canal. "We said they would not fit, so they demanded to speak with a manager. When I go to find Mr. Caballos, they sneak the whole continent through."

When Caballos shouted to the fleeing country that it had not paid, Australia "accidentally" backed up and took out every nation in the region, as well as the northern third of Venezuela. They then made up a cheery song about it.

By late morning today, however, not everyone in Australia was quite so blithe. "We've still got part of Jamaica stuck to Queensland," said Australian army commander Lt. Gen. Peter Cosgrove. "I think we might have declared war on it. I don't bloody remember. Maybe it's time to go home."
Buy SatireWire's new book!

Cosgrove, however, is not in the majority, and at press time, U.S., African, and European leaders were still desperately trying to negotiate for Australia's withdrawal. But the independent-minded Aussies were not making it easy. In a two-hour meeting at midday, Australian representatives listed their demands: immediate inclusion in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, a permanent CNN presence in all 6 Australian states, a worldwide ban on hiring Paul Hogan, a primetime U.S. television contract for Australian Rules Football, and a 4,500-mile-long bridge between Sydney and Los Angeles.

U.S. negotiators immediately walked out, calling the Australian Rules Football request "absurd."

Copyright © 2002, SatireWire.

Oh the pain, the pain...

Right now I'm in a fiscal fetal position with my thumb in my mouth, crying, and really wanting to be hugged.

I took my car into the shop today for brake work and $1500 later, I might actually be getting new brakes. It seems that there's a small $20 part that broke and is leaking fluid in my brakes. The part is not a problem to replace, but the labor to replace the part is a big problem. Apparently, they have to remove the rear axle in order to replace the part and do all sorts of mucking around with the fluids and differential. I'm about as much of a car guy as I am a construction accountant. But I do know this much, my car is sick and fixing it costs money - lots and lots of money.

When I first took my car into the shop this morning I had this crazy thought that suddenly doesn't seem all that crazy - why do they only have financial aid for students? Shouldn't they have financial aid for car owners as well? Of course, I probably wouldn't qualify for any of those scholarships either, but that doesn't make the idea any less appealing.

I owe, I owe, its off to work I go... :(

Keeping up with the Beaches...

Celeste, Andre and I headed out to the ballpark last night for a little family time. Since I've started working for Lucasfilm, there hasn't been a lot of time for my wife and son - so I was happy to discover that George had given me his three right field bleacher seats for last night's game.

We arrived at the valet parking with about an hour to go until game time and me determined to make this a special night for all involved. I paid the guy a fiver to park our cherry red 1963 roadster in the parking lot and told him to keep an eye on it, then I escorted Celeste and Andre towards the Lefty O'Doul gate. But before we went in, we stopped at the Giants Dugout Store to buy some S.F. Giants 2007 NL West Champs hats and pins. Dutifully accoutred, we entered the park and took the steps to the top of the stadium.

The bunting was still in place from the Bonds 800th Homerun celebration the night before, but it looked a little sad - like it had perhaps seen its last hurrah. I told the bunting to cheer up since I knew that Bonds was likely to be signed for another couple of years so that he could make an attempt on Oh's all time homerun record.

We sat in our seats and watched the pre-game festivities and ordered hot dogs and beer from passing vendors. I was glad that they rolled back the prices. Andre wanted two hot dogs but I reminded him that he had a big soccer game tomorrow, so he wheedled me into buying him a Chocolate Malt instead. I swear my son is getting as persuasive as me some days.

The game started and Cain was dealing - six strikeouts in the first seven batters on only 24 pitches. But defense is boring for a seven year old, so we were both happy when Bonds hit #801 right over our heads in the 3rd. Andre looked at me as the ball hit the water as if to say, "Well, aren't you going after it?" I just patted his back and high fived him. Celeste and I shared a congratulatory kiss that made me wish Bonds would hit a couple of more jacks - onion breath and all.

But the real teaching moment came in the fifth inning when Bonds was up again and popped up a ball that dropped in front of everyone on the infield. But the ump had ruled for the infield fly rule and Andre cried out that it wasn't fair - that they should have to catch the ball. He turned to me and asked, "Why do you think God allows the infield fly rule?"

I looked at Andre and sensing one of those great Christian teaching moments that we all seem to enjoy with our sons, I replied, "Because even God doesn't understand the infield fly rule, son." It was a great father-son moment.

The Giants won the game 8-1 over the Dodgers (who just aren't the same since Jeff Kent became their manager) and we all went home happy. Tomorrow, I start work on the edit of the new Star Wars TV series, so I'd better get some sleep.

Oh, sorry I didn't have any photos. Andre accidentally threw my camera out into McCovey cove when Bonds hit the homerun and these two teens caught the camera, but their boat sank before they could return it to me.

Just remember what God said about the sincerest form of flattery...