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.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, October 26, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
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
"[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
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
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. ;)
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. ;)
Monday, October 15, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
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!
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!
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, October 05, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
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!"
As Barry Bonds would say, "Okay, now show me the love!"
Monday, October 01, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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