Stranger in a Familiar Land

All I do is post other articles these days

2009-05-29T01:21:00.001-04:00

But I don't care. This is too much fun for me.

Because I'm Either Doing This Or Writing My Thesis

2009-05-27T00:33:00.003-04:00

Somehow, even when my work entails little more than a scholarly viewing of South Park, I cannot bring myself to be productive in late May. So instead, thanks to Tyson, I am watching this. Enjoy, though note there is some offensive language.
For those who need background, Charlie Murphy is Eddie Murphy's older brother. He sometimes narrates his recollections of the wild exploits he enjoyed in the 1980s. This story is called "Basketball with Prince."

And I'm Back

2008-10-30T21:07:00.002-04:00

So it's been awhile (a year, actually), and I had forgotten my username and password. But I am a fine guesser and I think I may go insane if I don't start putting thoughts to paper (in a manner of speaking.) So I'm back. You are under no obligation to notice or pay attention, but just in case you're curious, here I am.
(Actual reflections to follow.)

A Kindred Spirit

2007-11-05T01:32:00.000-05:00

I love this:
(you'll probably have to click on the little box above this text to see the comic)

Smelling the Color 9

2007-09-24T22:46:00.000-04:00

Chris Rice is coming to both Chapel Hill and Winston Salem. While I have no idea who he is, apparently he's both talented and famous, at least among my friends. So at Crystal's prompting I downloaded some of his songs and I have to say, I'm impressed. I rarely take to music quickly, so that says something about his stuff.
One song of his in particular stuck out for me. It's called Smell the Color 9; the title refers to the singer's attempts to find God being as hard as "smelling the color 9." A few goofy lines aside (including an especially painful explanation of the metaphor at the end of the song) notwithstanding, I really like this song. It's full of lines about feeling left out in a crowd where everyone else seems to be so sure of their faith and not knowing what to believe except that there's Someone to believe in; these sentiments, to borrow a phrase from Chuck Klosterman, have never stopped making sense to me.
Of course, the overriding sentiment in the song is one of, if this makes any sense, optimistic impotence. This does a nice job of describing my life right now. I won't go into the details, but I've been sniffing and sniffing this last month or two and just can't quite locate the color 9.
But the upshot is that I'm finding more and more people who share and help me express this reality I'm experiencing. If nothing else, this helps ease the loneliness and at least make more sense out of the world. That's a good start.

Bienvenidos a mis visitas que hablan espanol!

2007-07-21T14:15:00.000-04:00

Me gusta usar Google Analytics para observar quien esta visitando o leyendo mis obras escritas. No te preocupes; yo no puedo saber quienes son ustedes. Puedo aprender de donde son y que tipo de conexion usan solamente.
He observado que hay dos de ustedes que no son de los estados unidos: un de Tulancingo, Mexico, y un de Barquisimeto, Venezuela. Pienso que ustedes vinieron por casualidad y salieron inmediatamente, pero espero que se gusten mis escritas. Quiza van a volver un dia.
(Yo espero tambien que no he destrozado el espanol aqui. No he usado la lengua por un tiempo largo. Si he cometido errores, los siento.)

Frisbees, Sno Cones, and the Quest for a Hobby

2007-07-19T00:17:00.000-04:00

I've been doing a lot of reading and thinking recently. Mostly this is because I was paid a considerable sum to read and think this summer and I want to fulfill my obligations, but also because events in my life and the lives of those around me have given me occasion to pause and ponder meaning and abstract concepts and other things much too large in scope to have one sentence answers. Such answers are delightful but unfailingly misleading unless you're a math major, which I most certainly am not. But, because Steen's hair has grown so large as to make me wonder if it has a will of its own, I'll start with a number anyway.
I turned 20 on Sunday, though I was a bit too busy to notice much. 20 is an odd age; people my age can neither drink legally nor claim it was a stupid teenage mistake when we drink anyway and get arrested. I don't even like alcohol (I discovered this in Europe rather quickly), but that doesn't offer much consolation. I can't rent a car or a hotel room either. Who came up with such an arbitrary number as 21 anyway? And an old friend of mine is getting married, a fact that bothers me first because she's younger than me and second because I think she had a bit of crush on me about seven years ago and all of a sudden I'm a little jealous. I've never felt so old and so young simultaneously. I don't know what would constitute a legitimate quarter life crisis, nor do I have any particular reason to be so optimistic as to assume I've still got three quarters of mine left. But I do get the distinct impression that I've spent most of my life thus far waiting, though I'm not sure what for, and that very soon I'll have my physical prime behind me (which is really depressing, given what my "prime" currently looks like) and regardless if I don't start eating better I'm gonna gain a lot of weight. I think most neuroses must start in one's 20's.
My second cousin died last weekend. I only knew Dudley in a very loose sense of the term; he was that guy who came to dinner at Christmas and always sat at a different table. I'm rather embarrassed to admit that, like most people that somehow didn't fit my definition of close family, I never really wanted to get to know him. I didn't even really feel sad when I heard about his cancer, or even when I was with him and his wife in the hospital. My capacity to empathize is defective. But it seems this was my loss, as from what I've heard since his passing and at his funeral Dudley was a cool guy. And I just couldn't fathom why it was that I of all people should be singing at his funeral, or how a guy who was clearly well-liked could be alive one day and in the ground the next and, even with two living parents (albeit ones with minds and bodies greatly reduced by age), only have one person at his funeral who was openly crying.
There have been several other illnesses and deaths on the periphery of my world lately. A few of these illnesses have been metaphorical, as in demographic issues at church and relationship troubles with old friends, but mainly these have been of the literal variety. Not sure what else to say about this, except that I think it's worth noting that it's taken the illness of a great patriarch and the deaths of a distant relative and a vague acquaintance to make me stop and just ... for a little while.
Taking time to ... can be rewarding, but it can also be a little scary. I rarely ... these days, preferring to lose myself in routine and late night television rather than risking finding myself in the quiet. Ben Folds says, "I stay focused on details; it helps me from feeling the big things." I don't know if that's true of me or not, but I do worry about how little things affect me anymore. And that fear of facing the void drives my attention outward, where hopefully I can get away with treating someone else's cancer while smoking. If that doesn't make any sense, I apologize, but it brings me to my point.
There was a moment last semester, after Big Concert but before the big stress of final exams, when I got the distinct impression that I was, at some fundamental level, unhealthy. Part of this was knowledge of my eating habits, which always vex my mother, but most of it had to do with sleeping patterns, social trends, spiritual antipathy, and the general sentiment that something was just wrong. Now that I'm done with a similar flurry of trips and vacations from the summer, I think it's time to reexamine the issue of well-being. My research has brought me to a book called Deep Economy, which examines problems with both our country's and our world's health, ranging from environmental issues to the decline in happiness among Americans in the face of ever-increasing wealth. I won't take the time right now to quote the book (except to mention my favorite statistic so far: 12% of Americans think Joan of Arc was Noah's wife), but it's worth examining the idea of sustainability in my life and the lives of my friends and family.
For me, among other things that I already have and take for granted, sustainability means frisbees, sno cones (or, rather, Bahama Shaved Ice), and some type of hobby. I've decided that regular exercise with a Thursday night frisbee group is an investment worth making, as is the occasional indulgence in frozen water and syrup, as infantile as that may sound. A hobby, however, has been much harder to come by. I posed this question to Sam one night in France (though I asked him for a vice rather than a hobby per se), and though he made a valiant effort we fell asleep before a winning proposition was on the table. I've made little headway in the time since; if you have any ideas, do let me know.
In the meantime, I hope to find a more healthy routine. Who knows, maybe I'll finally start working out regularly once I get back to school, or maybe I'll convince myself to branch out onto new culinary avenues. I just hope I get back into the habit of reading scripture and taking quiet time once a week, since it seems daily meditation is out currently too much to ask. Sustainability is a tricky question for me, but every time I read another chapter in Deep Economy I flash back to this vision in my head of the way the future could go, and though the images are somewhat different, the vision is almost identical in tone to the last scene from Raising Arizona. I don't know, it's kind of nice.

Man-Eating Badgers

2007-07-12T13:14:00.000-04:00

The quote of the day for today comes courtesy of UK Military Spokesman Mike Shearer:
"We can categorically state that we have not released man-eating badgers into the area."
Note that he did not categorically state that Britain hasn't released man-eating badgers into other areas...

What Am I Doing With My Life?

2007-06-23T13:33:00.000-04:00

Summer is a funny time. With little to do and no meaningful distinctions to differentiate weekdays from weekends, time slows down and I start forgetting what day it is and how long it's been since I last bathed. In this strange state of existence, I've discovered that I'll watch most anything on TV to divert my mind from the research I'm not doing, including four full days of US Open golf and about three passes through Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
So imagine my interest when I stumbled across polo on ESPN2. I consider myself a knowledgable sports fan, well-versed in the various sports disciplines which which people amuse themselves around the globe. I've spent time with curling, short-track speed skating, cycling, lacrosse, baseball, soccer, basketball, table tennis, badminton, croquet, boxing, MMA, cricket, rugby, NASCAR, tennis, as well as the American, Canadian, and international versions of football. When it comes to polo, I've both watched it on TV and played a crude version with my friends-though only the water versions.
But what I'm currently watching is the real, honest-to-goodness, horsey version of polo, the kind that until recently I knew only from dress shirts and bad cologne.
The Triple Crown of Polo apparently consists of several matches, each containing six periods, known as (I'm not making this up) chuckers. Despite a valiant effort from the quicker Alazana team the juggernaut Rude Boy Polo just won the first round by a score of 12-10. Apparently polo is a coed sport, and despite her team's sizeable second half lead, Rude Boy's captain Cecilia Cochran felt the need to hack at the other team's horses' legs and even (once) their faces. She then apolgized profusely (while the commentators explained that polo was a "gentlemen's sport") and returned to hacking away. When the action on the field dipped into a lull, ESPN took time to visit the event's sponsor, Lexus, whose spokesman took the oppurtunity to promote its newest luxury hybrid and extol the virtues both of polo and polo fans, refering to them as "our perfect demographic."
All in all, the spectacle was not as bizarre as, say, the cliff diving or arm wrestling championships I've seen ESPN cover in the past, and the action on the field, while difficult to follow, certainly was entertaining. But I couldn't stop asking myself, "Why in the world do people still play polo?" Surely there's some other, more humane way to spend an afternoon then riding around on horses, hacking at their legs and occasionally bopping them in the face. Surely even the wealthy and powerful must feel that, once the British Empire fell, polo should have gone the way of fox hunting. I don't know, maybe I'm just bitter because it took me nearly 20 years to find it, or because no one ever invited me to play.

Back

2007-06-12T16:15:00.000-04:00

Alright, I've been away from the country for awhile and have lots of things to share, but for now I'd like to leave you with this little story and the promise that I'll do actual, substantive writing soon.

A Melancholy Follow Up

2007-05-03T13:05:00.000-04:00

Nothing beautiful, it seems, is meant to last.

Say What You Want...

2007-04-15T14:19:00.000-04:00

...I think they'll be quite happy together.

Inspiration

2007-04-15T13:55:00.000-04:00

I woke up at 9:30 this morning for the second straight day. Yesterday I was disturbed by the extremely loud bass coming from the room above me. This morning's disturbance was quieter and more welcome.
Someone knocked on my door. I thought perhaps it was my derelict roomate, whom I've neither seen nor heard since Friday morning. No luck. Instead it was someone from Facilities Management, responding to a call I had put in the night before about water backing up in my sink.
I didn't expect anyone to come on a Sunday, so I wasa little rattled as I answered the door. But the man was friendly and got right to work, and since it became apparent it would take a few minutes to fix my sink I decided to make friendly conversavtion. I asked a harmless question. "Do they always make you guys work on Sundays?"
He turned around and looked genuinely concerned. "Once every 20 weeks, and it just kills me," he said. As it turns out, this guy (I later read his name tag; his name is Frank) is extremely dedicated to his church, leading the youth and preaching on Sunday nights. He went on to explain how difficult it is for him to work on weekends after working full time for Wake, taking care of his family and taking classes full time at Winston Salem State. He's a junior, political science major. He wants to go to Divinity school and get licenses in counseling. He switched majors because recently his church split in two and he decided that he wanted to understand political processes so he could help his church heal. He spoke very eloquently about the division, how he felt like he had lost a huge part of his family, how his new church had only been around for ten weeks and he didn't want to have to work on Sundays when things were still so unsettled.
So I asked another harmless question; I asked which church he went to. "I'm from Mount Airy," he said. "Bannertown Baptist." This set off a discussion about similarities, and when he asked who I was I told him my father's name. "Oh yeah," he responded, "Your dad bought a cleaning company from my younger brother. You might know my uncle, too, his name is David Beal."
Frank used to work for an electric company in Winston and took a $40,000 pay cut to work at Wake and go back to school. He said at the time he didn't know why he was doing this but now things make more sense. I don't know why Bannertown Baptist split and I have no reason to believe that Frank and I would agree on the issue and attend the same congregation. But the way he spoke about wanting healing and reconciliation really moved me. His willingness to be a full-time student and full-time maintenance worker while helping establish a new church and raising a family is phenomenol. He talked about how badly he wanted to maintain his 4.0 GPA. It must be a lot of work. And he does it because he wants to get into counseling. He wants to help people heal.
I wish I had Frank's work ethic, his unwillingness to demonize the opposition, his humility, his earnestness. I think it's inspirational, regardless of whether I agree with his politics or theology. I've got a tough week ahead of me: two papers, one scholoarship appreciation letter, seven nights of big time rehearsal for Big Concert, and hopefully at least one more visit to the hospital. But my week doesn't hold a candle to Frank's everyday life; it doesn't even come close. So maybe I was given a backed-up sink for a reason. Maybe this was the inspiration I needed.

Blank

2007-04-09T13:34:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to post something for a while, but inspiration is hard to come by these days. I've been kicking around some ideas, mainly dealing with testing the idea of momentum in basketball and stuff for Big Concert, but my ideas are fairly disjointed right now and writing them down would serve only to confuse. The next two weeks promise to be the busiest in a long, long time, and as soon as that ends I begin exam season. Suffice it to say that posts will likely be few and far between for awhile, but in about a month things will settle down and I'll be back. Oh yeah, I'll be back.

Madness

2007-03-16T00:16:00.000-04:00

So it's 8:47 p.m. on day one of the NCAA tournament and I'm having my doubts. I'm batting a meager .500 on my picks after my bold prediction of a Davidson/Old Dominion secound round matchup fell through. Davidson was so close. Really close. Anyway, I'm in last place in my pool on Facebook (thanks to Chris' breaking of the rules and assisting Megan with her picks), Crystal is gloating that she's beating me as well (a common theme that holds surprisingly true for football games as well) and I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps the sports gods are punishing me for making Chris watch tennis during commercial breaks this afternoon and secretly wishing we'd watch Nicole Vaidisova instead of Butler. In short, I'm being violated.
And then Blake calls around 9:00 and wisks me away to Creekside Cinemas to watch 300. Two hours of bare flesh and gratuitous violence are unceremoniously interrupted by a call from Matt Steen, off serving his fellow man several states away. And why has he taken me from this surprisingly quality-filled epic? To ask about a basketball game, of course.
But there's something different about Matt's question; I know the answer. I've spent all week pouring over brackets trying to accurately identify the fates of NCAA basketball teams, and finally I can answer an inquiring mind with 100% certainty. "No, Wake Forest did not make the NIT."
And just like that the fates turned. I returned home from the movie to find that Chris' confident prediction that Wright State would beat Pittsburgh was sadly unfounded. More importantly, Virgina Commonwealth won. This was fun, not only because Duke failed to win a single game in a tournament this year, but because, in a day filled with higher seeds holding serve, I had correctly called an upset. Just one. Out of like four predicted upsets. But still.
I'm back baby!

T-minus 38 hours

2007-03-07T20:23:00.000-05:00

...and counting til I go on Spring Break, and the excitement around here is palpable! I have finished with graded assignments for the week, taken care of the oh-so-adorable Bentley, and am contemplating dividing my summer between France and Econ research. To top it all off, I've also gotten word that the illustrious Taylor Forry has put the final stamp of approval on Here Is What I Know Now , Chi Rho's eighth and latest album. Go to http://chirho.com/ and follow the link to our MySpace page or click here to listen to four of the songs in their full glory. The recording/editing/re-recording/album-art-designing process has been really amazing for me and it's great to finally hear the final product. I've heard the entire album and I'm in love with it right now, and though I may not be the most impartial commentator, I would certainly suggest you pick up a copy or at least come to Big Concert on April 21st. That's all for now, more to follow.

What a World

2007-02-22T01:35:00.000-05:00

Actual headline for a story on the BBC: "Sex attacks blamed on bat demon."
Nice.

On the Bright Side

2007-02-15T20:37:00.000-05:00

So life's been kind of up and down recently (admittedly more down than up for the last week or so), but it's important to keep looking around for the good in life. To this end, I have noted a couple of breakthroughs in the last few days that are worthy of mention. First, Wake Forest won a basketball game. Against an ACC school. That beat us in football. Happy. Second, somehow delegates managed to get North Korea to agree to disarm its nuclear weapons program. To be sure, this does not mean that the story is over; it is unlikely any change will come any time soon and there is almost certainly going to be many roadblocks along the way. But at least there was a handshake. Same goes for a global summit on global warming, which apparantly has also reached a deal. Who knows if anything positive will actually come from any of this, but when life's tough, it's good to at least see some positive signs and these are issues that have been charactized by gridlock for years. I for one am encouraged.

For All the Nappers Out There

2007-02-13T09:30:00.000-05:00

Click here.

Alarm Clocks

2007-02-05T12:20:00.000-05:00

I had to write a speech for my rhetoric class arguing something absurd and imitating the style of Gorgias' Encomium of Helen. The result I now submit for your approval. Do let me know if you are convinced and have a plan of action to implement change.

Mankind has always struggled to find the balance between the desire for technological advances and the need to control the power those advances bring. The debate continued just last week on our very own campus, when embryologist Keith Campbell referenced his experience cloning Dolly the sheep while talking on the theme “What Can We Do and Should We Do It?” Since it is man’s responsibility to control the power at his disposal and wield it for the common good, it is necessary to constantly examine whether or not the “advances” of the past do indeed further human progress or instead unnecessarily limit our potential. And so it is with this mindset that I examine a long accepted piece of our modern world in order to pronounce its uses unworthy in light of its cumbersome drawbacks. The answer to the question, “Can we control exactly when we shall wake up each morning?” is most definitely yes, but for too long we have left the question “Should we?” woefully unexamined.
I stand before you now, alert and awake, thanks to the precisely-timed cacophony that issued forth from my alarm clock this morning. I can imagine many of you arose under similar circumstances; we all know the routine. We each find ourselves most every morning asleep in our beds, resting, dreaming and sorting out our thoughts from the previous day. At a predetermined hour, our pleasant slumber is suddenly and unceremoniously interrupted by some form of loud noise. Some of us are met by the sound of the radio, others by songs from iPods or other music players, and yet others by that infernal “beep beep beep” that I believe we all know well. There are only two possible responses: either we accept the automaton’s challenge and rise to meet day or we lash out in anger, slapping the snooze and silencing its sound, at least for a short while. Eventually, we rise at the time we decided upon the night before.
But is this all a good thing? It seems that throughout history man’s greatest suffering has been the result of attempts to impose artificial arrangements over the natural order of things. Is not the current healthcare crisis a product of obesity stemming from unnatural ingredients and cooking methods in food, as well as an unnatural tendency by many adults to avoid exercise? Was not the scourge felt by many under communist and other authoritarian economic systems the result of an attempt to impose unnatural controls over the free-market economies which naturally propagate when governments cease their meddling? Similarly, alarm clocks, which wake us up each morning before biological and situational circumstances would dictate, impose an unnatural order which causes us to settle for less than our maximum potential. Alarm clocks are the fetters which bind us to an unnatural time schedule which stifles our creativity, unfairly favors certain corporate interests, destroys our natural friendships, and leaves us hopelessly addicted to an unforgiving cycle.
Computers have revolutionized every part of the modern life. The effect on the workplace has been especially pronounced. In bygone times most of the world farmed, worked in factories, or did menial number-crunching jobs that were necessary for the working of society as a whole. But the rise of computers that process data millions of times faster than humans and machines that construct items faster and with more precision has negated the need for such jobs. The simple, repetitive jobs of yesterday are no more; in their place are vocations that require one to use improvisation and most importantly, creativity. Friedman argues in his best-selling book, The World is Flat that the jobs of tomorrow will go to the individuals who can use their creativity to come up with new ideas to solve problems and invent new products for consumers. So in order to compete in the new world, we must maximize our creativity. And when is the human mind at its most creative and most fertile? In the early morning hours, just before waking, when we have our most vivid dreams. If you are like me, the only dreams which you remember are the bizarre, wacky, and sometimes silly dreams you have right as you are about to rise. For most of us, these dreams represent the rare moments when we are truly able to “think outside the box.” But alarm clocks carelessly interrupt these moments of inspiration, thrusting our minds back into the mundane world of our morning routines, where we squander our precious ideas thinking about the coming day and what we shall eat for breakfast. Thanks to the alarm clock, we shall never again recapture these epiphanies, for even if we hit the snooze button we cannot return to our dreams. Who knows what untold fortune mankind might have achieved by now, what new ideas might have come to light, had only we not awoken too quickly from our slumber!
Alarm clocks not only rob us of new ideas, they force us to forsake a natural idea that we have revered, especially in this country, for centuries: fairness. Fairness is one of our founding principles, especially in regard to matters of finance. It was in the name of economic fairness that the Founding Fathers declared independence from Britain and taxation without representation. Though the abuse is more subtle than the Stamp Act, alarm clocks betray the interests of equity just as much by favoring certain corporate interests. For after we wake up we must find some artificial means of perpetuating our consciousness. And to what means do we turn to achieve this end? We turn to coffee, or tea, or Mountain Dew, or some other type of sugary or caffeinated beverage. We may or may not take pleasure in the consumption of these drinks, but we almost always justify their use by saying we need them to wake up, or, if consumed later in the day, to stay awake. Thanks to the alarm clock, we have enslaved ourselves to a host of energy drinks and caffeine supplements. And who benefits from this bondage? The corporate owners of these products most certainly stand to gain. This comes at the expense of the makers of other products which are prized for the pleasure they bring us more than their utility in keeping us awake. Alarm clocks unfairly favor the makers of these products by forcing us to go to bed and rise on an unnatural timetable.
The previous assessments of the perils of the alarm clock affect society as a whole, but the most tragic effect of alarm clocks affects is especially pronounced for the people in this room. What, after all, is more meaningful in life than the bond of friendship? Whether romantic or platonic, there is nothing more natural or more pleasurable than the companionship of a true friend. Perhaps the most basic form of friendship is the type shared by living companions, for we must by necessity, at least to some degree, make friends with our roommates; the amount of time we are compelled to spend together dictates at least cordial dealings. But alas, alarm clocks strive to rob us of even this basic virtue. Those in attendance surely know the inevitable conflict that arises when one roommate must wake up before another. The alarm clock’s infernal racket is not constrained to the hearing of the intended target alone, but rather all who live together are disturbed by its sound. Whether the resentment is stated or kept quiet, the result is always the same. Alarm clocks drive a wedge in our relationships; they turn us against each other.
Perhaps now you are ready to see the alarm clock for what it truly is. Take a moment and suspend your understanding of the alarm clock as merely a machine and consider the scenario in a different manner. Merriam-Webster’s Medical Dictionary defines a drug as, “something…that causes addiction, habituation, or a marked change in consciousness.” Is it not clear that this is a perfect description of the effects of alarm clocks? Alarms force us to wake up early, markedly changing our consciousness, and therefore causing us to nap during the day to compensate for lost rest. This, inevitably, makes it much more difficult to fall asleep at a proper time the ensuing night, making the alarm clock that much more necessary the next morning. It is a vicious cycle that can only be described as habituation and addiction. We find that we need the alarm clock, like an addict needs a narcotic, and inevitably we up the dosage by hitting the snooze so we can get our fix over and over again. That the Surgeon General wastes his time putting warnings on tobacco, which is almost ubiquitously understood to be addictive, while neglecting to label alarm clocks is a true shame that reveals just how strong a hold the addiction has on us all.
So you see, by hooking us on a vicious cycle, turning companions against one another, compromising our sense of fairness and equity, and robbing us of our natural creativity, alarm clocks enslave us all. All this in the name of controlling when we rise in the morning? Surely now you must concede that, rather than empowering mankind, alarm clocks simply oppose our nature and hamper our progress. That we must throw off the shackles of the alarm clock should now be sufficiently clear. How we shall go about ridding ourselves of these fetters I leave to your discretion.

Excellent Point

2007-02-03T12:37:00.000-05:00

I'm not big into Facebook, but I like to explore the copious number of groups out there. One such group found me the other day. It's called "Oatmeal Raisin?..." The ... is actually an expletive that I've deleted due to fear of an FCC fine. The basic point of the group is to voice the concerns of citizens who hate looking at a delicious chocolate chip cookie and biting into it only to realize that it is, in fact, an oatmeal raisin cookie. The physical resemblance between the two cookies is astounding, but the disparity of taste and texture is even more pronounced. Clearly the Divine likes to mess around with us sometimes.
For those of you not familiar with Facebook, there's a place in the group's page called the Wall where people can write their comments. One comment caught my eye and I thought I'd pass it along. Ladies and gentlemen, the future of our country:

this should be a plank issue for the republicans to run off of. "no illegal immigration, or those damned oatmeal raisin cookies either! both immigrants and raisins hide amidst the favourable majority, trying to blend in and look all nice. but then, when the truth comes out, and the immigrant/raisin is revealed, etc." cause then the liberals would be all "but i like oatmeal. it's healthy. its organic. etc."

Note the amazing punctuating and the blatant disregard of capitalization rules. But the most remarkable aspect of the post is the writer's ability to promote xenophobia while using the British spelling of "favourite." This man, who is from Winston-Salem, by the way, clearly knows how to think outside the box. I read in our campus newspaper last fall that Facebook was raising political awareness among the nation's youth; here, I believe, we find the proof. Don't you feel good about the voter/elected official of tomorrow?

Landry View

2007-02-01T17:43:00.000-05:00

If any of you happen to live in a place which requires you to do your laundry in a community facility, I suggest you check out laundryview.com. It tells you which of your washers and dryers are available at any given time, as well as gives a rough estimate of how much longer it will take for each machine to finish. Plus, it shows you an animated picture of your room with the machines in use shaking in a realistic way. Something about a jiggling machine just tickles my fancy. Check it out.

Alas

2007-01-23T12:06:00.000-05:00

All weekend long I struggled to post because of internet troubles at home. Now I've lost my camera adapter and fear I must have left it behind in Mount Airy. I'm still taking pictures, if you're interested, but until I find the adapter, I can't put any pictures online. Sorry.

A Sight That Almost Made Waking Up at 8:00 Worth It

2007-01-19T00:30:00.000-05:00

Back to School

2007-01-17T20:26:00.000-05:00

"The united states in congress assembled shall also be the last resort on appeal in all disputes and differences now subsisting or that hereafter may arise between two or more states concerning boundary, jurisdiction or any other cause whatever; which authority shall always be exercised in the manner following. Whenever the legislative or executive authority or lawful agent of any state in controversy with another shall present a petition to congress stating the matter in question and praying for a hearing, notice thereof shall be given by order of congress to the legislative or executive authority of the other state in controversy, and a day assigned for the appearance of the parties by their lawful agents, who shall then be directed to appoint by joint consent, commissioners or judges to constitute a court for hearing and determining the matter in question: but if they cannot agree, congress shall name three persons out of each of the united states, and from the list of such persons each party shall alternately strike out one, the petitioners beginning, until the number shall be reduced to thirteen; and from that number not less than seven, nor more than nine names as congress shall direct, shall in the presence of congress be drawn out by lot, and the persons whose names shall be so drawn or any five of them, shall be commissioners or judges, to hear and finally determine the controversy..."

Wish You Were Here

2007-01-16T22:53:00.000-05:00

A Welcome, Familiar Sight

2007-01-16T15:16:00.000-05:00

Another late night leads to another late post. Sorry. But hey, at least I took the picture on the correct day. I had to do this on the run, so it may be a bit blurry.

The Bells

2007-01-15T03:16:00.000-05:00

Home At Last

2007-01-13T23:25:00.000-05:00

Hanging 'em Up

2007-01-13T23:14:00.000-05:00

My last day of recording.

Entertainment

2007-01-12T02:53:00.000-05:00

Andrew Flavin, or Harry Potter???

2007-01-12T02:49:00.000-05:00

Sorry this one comes a day late; I didn't get home until 4:00 last night.

Eric As Lurch

2007-01-10T03:05:00.000-05:00

You Can Still Use Sugar

2007-01-09T01:42:00.000-05:00

I'm still on my tea kick thanks to Crystal's brilliant discovery of rooibos on this side of the Atlantic, so I was amazed when this story informed me that adding milk to my hot tea can block some of its health affects. Just thought I'd pass it along.

Watching the Game

2007-01-09T01:40:00.000-05:00

Upgrade Adobe

2007-01-07T19:43:00.000-05:00

So apparently there's a security flaw in Adobe Reader that allows people to do nasty things on your computer. You might want to read this and uprgade. By the way, my favorite line from the article: "So far there is no evidence that the bug is being exploited in the wild." Sounds kinda like a nature show, doesn't it?

Indescribable, Uncontainable

2007-01-07T16:59:00.000-05:00

Make Up Picture Number 2

2007-01-07T16:48:00.000-05:00

Here is my true love in Nashville. Her name is Dory and I love her much more than she loves me. Oh well. I've got another week to woo her.

Make Up Picture Number 1

2007-01-07T16:45:00.000-05:00

I found the adapter. Here's what would've been friday's picture. I call it "Shay Loves Our Hotel Room."

No Adapter

2007-01-07T01:38:00.000-05:00

So since I can't seem to find the adapter which allows me to transfer my pictures from the camera to the computer, I've now missed two consecutive days of photos. Worry not; I've still got images lined up and ready to go. For now, enjoy this picture of a boxer which looks sorta kinda like the one I like to play with in between recording sessions. A picture of the real specimen is to follow.

A Good Method of Contacting Your Waiter

2007-01-04T15:30:00.000-05:00

View From Our Balcony

2007-01-03T21:09:00.000-05:00

Our hotel

2007-01-02T14:27:00.000-05:00

...is not nearly as nice as this one. Not even close. But we did drop by the Westin to visit the Wake Forest Visitors' Center, where we ran into Mugsy yesterday. This is also the only place in Miami where Wake fans outnumber Louisville fans, so yay for that as well. The Louisville peeps are headquartered at Trump International. Trump indeed.

Mugsy and Me

2007-01-01T16:03:00.000-05:00

I thought I'd start my January pics with a local celeb. When we say Mugsy in the lobby of the Wake hotel Mom ran him down insisted we get a picture. He was really nice about it. We were so excited, but two of the hotel employees later asked us "Who is that guy?" I guess the legend of Mugsy Bogues only extends so far.

Back

2006-12-28T02:24:00.000-05:00

Christmas and Gerald Ford have sadly left us, so it's time for me to start posting again. (By the way, until a major media outlet sucks it up and actually tells us what killed the 93 year old former president, I'm just going to assume his parachute didn't open.) But it's late and I've tired of thinking about all the things that have happened since last I wrote (though the destruction of my car's window and the theft of my iPod are good bets to make comebacks) so instead I want to take this oppurtunity to issue a challenge.
I really enjoy reading my former GSE teacher's blog. Over the last month he participated in a project with his friends and coworkers called the December Photo Project. Basically, he made a point to take at least one picture of something interesting or beautiful or weird or mundane or exciting or whatever every day and post it on his blog. I hereby announce my very own January Photo Project, with the same rules (except, um, for the month of January). I'd like you all to participate as well, so here's the deal. I'm going to try to post one picture every day. If you have a blog of your own, go at it with a digital camera. If not, you may feel free to email your pictures to me at nilarh6@wfu.edu and I'll post a few good ones. If you don't have a digital camera, I suppose you'll just have to make a posterboard with your shots at the end of the month. I know it sounds kind of hoaky, but I've really enjoyed following the shots online this month and I think it might be cool to glimpse images of the lives all of you are living. Consider yourselves challenged.

Words Cannot Express...

2006-12-13T17:45:00.000-05:00

...I have no comment on this.

I Love My School

2006-12-08T14:03:00.000-05:00

Instead of studying for my spanish exam tomorrow, I decided to wander through the OGB archives and contemplate the meaning of existence. My roomate brought this column to my attention. I don't suppose the jokes will mean much to those of you who don't attend Wake, but the stereotypes are amusing and not unfounded. The language is also a bit much at times, for those of you who are offended by such things, but I found it, on the whole, worth the read. Then again, that's probably because it's about my school. Well, if you feel so led, give it a read.

Stolen From Adam's Blog

2006-12-07T12:13:00.000-05:00

I hate to resort to theivary, but I saw a video on Adam's Blog and I thought I'd share it with you. To say this man has too much time is an understatement, and I will waste no breath commenting on more productive things he could have done. Just enjoy the fruits of his ill-advised labor.
I have a lot of free time myself these days. I have only one exam remaining and it's on Saturday, so in the meantime I'm trying really hard to make myself study and generally failing. To make matters worse, Aho linked to two extremely simple and rather amusing flash games and I find myself spending more time batting a penguin than studying spanish. Thanks, aho (by the way, my record is 322.9).

Thought of the Day

2006-11-28T23:53:00.000-05:00

Is there any more romantic song about a married woman cheating on her husband than Uncle Kracker's "Follow Me?"

Metaphor

2006-11-20T14:22:00.000-05:00

I'm in a contemplative mood these days, so when I ran across this story I immediately began to assign the clash between a burmese python and an alligator metaphoric significance. Two giants, battling each other for supremacy until their mutual destruction is assured: kinda makes you think Dr. Strangelove, right? Oh well, maybe not.
But still, the idea of a snake swallowing an alligator whole. And then exploding from the internal pressure. A little bit cool, right?

WFU > FSU

2006-11-12T01:09:00.000-05:00

At least for one night, anyway. I don't think words can truly do this one justice, so I'll just leave it at that.

A Tribute

2006-11-08T15:05:00.000-05:00

Donald Rumsfeld is set to resign as Defense Secretary after yesterday's election results. You may say what you like about the man, his policies and his effectiveness, but against his eloquence you musn't utter a word. I submit to you this list of quotations as proof. Our country may or may not have just lost a great leader, but it cannot be doubted that we have lost a great purveyor of b.s.

In lieu

2006-11-07T15:02:00.000-05:00

Dunno if I spelled 'lieu' correctly, but whatever...
Rather than take the time to arouse once more my righteous indignation, I'll just link to this article from the bbc and leave it at that. Happy electing, everyone.

Note: The link in this article leads to a blog from the bbc that is updated often. It no longer leads to the article I was talking about. Once again, bummer.

Bummer

2006-11-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

I wrote a long post yesterday about negative campaigning and how angry it makes me but my internet fell out and the post was erased. Sad. I have neither the time nor the patience to recreate that post now. My main point was that I pretty much hate whoever it was that put a specific ad up, though I don't know who that person is. If you know, please do not vote for that person tomorrow. I'll try to remember what I wrote and put something comparable up later. Thanks for your patience.

Of Goats and Votes

2006-10-19T16:40:00.000-04:00

I'm the kind of person who shows up to a bible study group with a bible. Just how it goes sometimes. So last night as I scanned the bookshelves in the BSU lounge for a bible to use I happened to stumble across several interesting pieces of literature. The international students' bible was amusing, as were several student themed versions that seemed as interested in looking "extreme" as they did in conveying the word of God. But the choicest find was also the unlikliest.
It's called Forty Acres and a Goat. Mr. Will Campbell (who, we are informed on the cover, is also the author of Brother to a Dragonfly) apparantly has some interesting memoirs. And though I have absolutely no time to read this crowning literary achievementI still found myself compelled to theft it temporarily just to see what treasures might be found inside. Thus far I have only found time for the first three words, but they certainly did not disappoint, "His uncle Coot..." Anyone with information on this classic literature should certainly feel free to contact me: I've just got to know.
On a completely unrelated note, I got my absentee ballot in the mail yesterday. Now I'm not exactly the world's biggest proponent of representative democracy (much to my father's chagrin), but even I feel obligated to fill the stupid thing out. But I really have no idea who most of the people on the ballot are and I can't help but feel I'm being irresponsible. I know Tim Matthews, but he's running unopposed. I think Pam Marion is the current Clerk of Court, but I don't really know what duties that position entails and I don't know if she's doing a good job or not and I certainly don't know if her opponent could do a better job. Come to think of it, the only vote I can cast with conviction is not for a candidate but rather against Virginia Foxx. So what should I do? I suppose the responsible thing to do would be to become informed on the issues that affect our county (just imagine how many hot-button topics there must be pertaining to the office of Sheriff of Surry County), but that's just not going to happen. So perhaps the only responsible thing to do is to just not vote. Please feel free to give me your thoughts on this as well.
One last note: Kevin and Lynette of South Africa are on their way soon and I am ultra-super pumped. Please pray for safe journeys and joyous reunions. I certainly can't wait.

Dilemma

2006-10-17T00:07:00.001-04:00

Don't be fooled by the title; I'm fine.
I wanted to post because I have not done so in a while, but I have very little to say and cannot shake the feeling that I ought to be studying right now. So instead I will comment on what I should be studying.
I have to do a presentation on the Prisoner's Dilemma and how it pertains to OPEC. Anyone who has any ideas on fun or interesting ways to do this should feel free to let me know. Also, any helpful hints on memorizing the key concepts of the Old Testament would be great.
Oh, and how about your 25th ranked (that's higher than both Georgia and Miami, by the way) Demon Deacons? I'm greatly pumped, first that we cracked the top 25, and second that we did so against NC State, the greatest of all pretenders. And unlike the last time we were ranked, we are a mortal lock to not blow that ranking one week after getting it (we have a bye on Saturday). Now we have 14 days to prepare for the Carolina juggernaut, a game which could seal our sweep of the Big Four. I'll have to get used to the idea that we're a football school this year.

Choke

2006-10-08T01:01:00.000-04:00

As I stood in the rain in Groves Stadium today and watched Wake Forest prepare to assume a 17 point lead, I felt a familiar feeling: as my friends high-fived and celebrated my stomach began to tighten and I suddenly felt overwhelmingly nervous. "Yes," I thought, "I've seen this movie before and I know exactly how it ends."
Eight minutes later Wake Forest was trailing by 7. By the time the clock ran out, wake had turned a sure 17 point lead into an impressive 10 point defeat. After winning 17-3 over the course of 45 minutes, we somehow managed to lose the final 15 by a count of 24-0. I'm told my face betrayed the knowledge of impending doom long before the final buzzer sounded.
For the first time, I felt like a Wake Forest student today. I'm back in familiar territory. It's good to be home?

Please Forgive Me

2006-10-04T14:23:00.000-04:00

Sam arranged a song by David Gray called Please Forgive Me for Chi Rho to sing and we started practicing it last night. Though my part is painfully simple and repitive, the arrangement as a whole is excellent and I can't wait to start performing it. We started off learning the song by sitting in the dark and listening to original with the lyrics on the blackboard (there was enough ambient light to read, in case you're wondering). I thought I'd reproduce the lyrics here:

Please forgive me if I act a little strange
for I know not what I do
feels like lightening running through my veins
every time I look at you

Help me out here, all my words are falling short
there's just so much I want to say
wanna tell you just how good it feels
when you look at me that way

throw a stone and watch the ripples flow
movin out across the bay
like a stone i fall into your eyes
deep into that mystery

I got half a mind to scream out loud
I got half a mind to die
so I won't ever have to lose you
won't ever have to say goodbye
I won't ever have to lie
Won't ever have to say goodbye

Sam talked a lot last night about the way in which Christians often express their love for God in a romantic sense, and this is appropriate. But what struck me was his interpretation of this song as being a love song from God to us. He talked about how imperfect our love is, how we can't truthfully say we always feel like we have lightning in our veins everytime we contemplate God, but that God can and does feel that way about us. The last verse especially takes on an interesting meaning if you look at it from that perspective.
That's all for today, just thought I'd share what's been on my mind.

Oh, by the way: it's now day four and counting of having my butt on display on wake's website. Let's keep this party going!

Fame

2006-10-02T01:15:00.000-04:00

http://student.wfu.edu
go there.
now.
Why? Because in just a few moments the picture across the top of the page will change and there will no longer be a great shot of yours truly's derrier. And really, can you afford to not have more of my butt in your life? My posterier preserved for posterity; love it.

Thursday Storms

2006-09-28T18:07:00.000-04:00

I am currently trapped, both literally and figuratively, in the library and don't appear to be anywhere near escaping either my religion paper or the latest in this evening's round of freak thunderstorms. From where I'm sitting in ZSR Library I've been able to listen to this particular cloud roar across the building's surprisingly flimsy roof from my right to left. I wish I had been here during the hail earlier.
The rain is so loud that I can hear it over my Jacques Loussier. I swear there is no better rain music around when you're feeling upbeat. I really must go back to my work, but if you haven't heard Jacques' theme and four variations on Beethoven's Allegretto from Symphony 7 on a rainy day, I would highly recommend you try it. I love college.

Joy

2006-09-26T13:48:00.000-04:00

Note: I feel quite certain I've written on this topic before, but it's on my mind again so you'll have to indulge me.

I just got back from my first computer science test and I'm still in one piece, which, I think, is worth something. I also got back my first econ test this morning: a 92 which is both exciting and disappointing at the same time. The jury is still out of Spanish; I'll keep you posted.
The past two weeks or so have been difficult for me, both because of the increased workload that comes with testing and the emotional overload of any number of events. I've found less time for socializing, sleeping, watching television, and pretty much everything else I like to do. I've had relationship issues with friends, grading issues with teachers, and personal issues with myself. Why, then, am I so darn happy right now?
I have issues with the band Casting Crowns, but I can't help but listen to their stuff because, musically, it's just too good to ignore. "Praise You in this Storm" is about joy, I think. The chorus goes:
"I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands; for You are who You are no matter where I am. Every tear I've cried you hold in your hands. You never left my side, so though my heart is torn I will praise You in this storm."
I've thought about that a lot since the funeral, wondering if that would be my prayer after losing a loved one. I don't think I'll ever forget seeing Dr. Gilbert singing hymns at Brent's funeral. His upturned face reminded me of the times he talked about joy, about how it is distinct from happiness (in that it is not dependent on the "happenings"), about how it is a gift from God. I haven't talked to him since Brent's death and can't begin to imagine his emotional state right now, but I wonder if perhaps he's been given a new perspective on the topic. I can't imagine what that perspective is, but I would like to know his thoughts. Because I've hardly been persecuted at Wake; I've been blessed beyond my wildest imaginations. I wouldn't trade my friends, my brothers, or pretty much any part of my experience thus far for anything (with the notable exceptions of Chi Omega and my goth next door neighbor). And so when I look back on the relatively more difficult time of these past two weeks, I get a certain joy that's hard to explain.
Perhaps it's better expressed in the present. I just took a comp sci test which I could very easily have aced and may very well have failed. I honestly don't know. But I do know that I'm learning in that class, that I'm getting better. I also know that I have a frisbee game with both old and new friends in two hours and that I get to sing tonight. I know I have friends, family, and a girlfriend who love me. I know that I have friends back home that remember me even when I drop off the face of the earth. These are all good things, and they make me happy.
But the kicker is that I've decided that, while I love these things and are thankful for them, they are not neccesar for joy. Joy is easy in the land of abundance, but is just as relevant "when I'm found in the desert place, when I walk through the wilderness." Looking back on some of the harder moments in my life, I realize that God's joy was there all the time, sustaining me when happiness was not enough.
I remember walking around Camp Hanes during Preschool and thinking about all that could potentially go wrong once I got to Wake. Some of those fears have materialized; most have not. But the thought crossed my mind (I only half believed it then, I'm coming around now) that regardless of how many things went wrong that the simple fact that I was going and that God was going with me was enough. I think I understood joy better in that moment than I ever have or do now because at that moment I had completely dissociated joy from happiness. I looked and saw the world around me and acknowledged that it was good, regardless of my personal circumstances. And that, I think is enough. Check back with me during some real persecution and we'll see how my thesis stands up.

Not exactly wholesome

2006-09-20T21:07:00.000-04:00

Rob and Megan and I had a long conversation last night about the merits of alcoholic consumption and its "wholesomeness." I tended to side with Rob on most issues, but now I'm having second thoughts. This story changed my mind. Maybe Megan has a point...

Why I read the BBC

2006-09-13T16:18:00.000-04:00

I don't usually catch the morning, evening, or late night news. The reasons for this are many and a few of them are actually legitimate, but the important thing to know is that in order to keep up with what's going on in the world I have to look to alternative sources for news. One source is the 11 o'clock hour on comedy central, which I view with a passion only slightly short of religious zeal, but even I recognize that certain stories can slip through the cracks of two half-hour comedy shows (and no, Lewis Black cannot catch them all). So I occasionally check out the BBC news online.
Why the BBC? Well, there are several advantages. First there's the spelling (I just love the look of programme and colour). Then there's the certain smug sense of superiority that comes from being around British accents, even in print. But most importantly, I go to the BBC because the English are just funny.
Today's news has been especially rewarding. If you look at the front page, you'll be sure to see all kinds of things. Sure, you'll have your regular stories about Afghanistan and the like. But on closer inspection, you might find a real jewel, like this story about Columbian girlfriends on a sex strike. Wander farther into the sight and you'll find a wonderful argument on the darkside of communism.
And then there's the sports coverage. Where else can you go for top-notch reporting on cricket, disability sports (yes, as is special olympics), something called "athletics" (whatever that means), rugby, something called "bowls", darts, "netball", or an entire site devoted to snooker? And the reporting is out of this world. Here are a few headlines from today's sports pages:
"Kong in hot water after crash"
"Flintoff pick surprises Pointing"
"Boon backs Broad's England future"
"Dogged Durham defy the Red Rose"
"Defiant White keeps Notts at bay"
And the kicker: "Warne in the wars against Worcs"
I love the BBC and will continue to read their adorable take on the world. Why? Because it makes me feel smart to say I bring up a story I read on the BBC in conversation, and it makes me feel superior to be able to say "I don't get my news from those trite mainstream american stations. Only the best for me, right-o chap?"
Now if only I could say that while listening to modern jazz on my iPod and drinking a mocha...I'd be a true college student indeed.

XP

2006-09-06T20:20:00.000-04:00

It's funny how quickly things change. One year ago I was a high school senior, biding my time and waiting to get out of town. One month ago I was weedeating in Oakdale Cemetary. And one week ago I was just trying to find my way through Wake Forest, trying to discover in what ways I could get involved and struggling to get all my homework done. It was last Wednesday that I hit the turning point.
One week ago I was singing with the WFU Gospel Choir. Roman, the tenor section leader stood next to me as the chior held hands and prayed. The next evening I sat through a mandatory freshman convocation called "Alcohol Speak Out." You can imagine how receptive the audience was. I had a tryout scheduled for Chir Rho, the all-male christian a cappella (again, I can't spell that term) group on campus, so I slipped out (more or less) unnoticed and descended into the depths of Scales Fine Arts Center. There I encountered none other than Roman, my section leader from the night before, who was completely unaware of who I was. I couldn't resist the oppurtunity.
"You don't know me," I said, "but we held hands last night." After one of the more awkward moments ever I explained that I was in Gospel Choir. I then proceded to completely screw up my tryout.
Well, the fates aligned and I got into Chi Rho. In case you're wondering, the name is derived from the first two greek letters in "Christ" and is represented in english, conveniently, simply XP. In a 16 hour period I went from pathetic audition guy to pathetic group member on a retreat in Lake Lure, NC. I won't go into all the details, but suffice it to say I am one awkward turtle. Furthering the strange rapid progression of our relationship, Roman and I shared a room.
When man is weak grace prevails. I had a blast over the weekend and in the ensuing days. Now, less than a week after deciding to audition, I have just returned from my first performance. Considering we had had only one practice, all went well I suppose. After we walked offstage a few of our members promptly prooceded to exit the building, but most of us stayed behind in the hallway; we could still hear the people clapping. The pastor of the the church at which we were performing had organized the crowd in cheering for an encore which presented two problems:
1) we had literally used every song we knew in the performance
2) three of our members had just left the building.
Christian ran out and returned with Tyler, but it was too late for Roman and James. Now back on stage with no idea what to do, Taylor turned to us and said, "How about 'Lion'?" He then turned and began to sing the solo to "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" as the rest of us composed our own harmonies in the background. To compensate for the lack of musical intricacy, Flavin, Taylor and Eric began making animal noises in the background. We certainly won no awards for that performance, but the crowd at least seemed to buy it.
For those who are interested, http://chirho.com has information on the group, where we're performing and how you can (hint hint) buy cd's to help support the ministry and our upcoming tour in europe. More on all of this later, but for now I've got to go collect my thoughts. Oh yeah, and do some homework. So maybe not everything has changed in a week.

Moron

2006-08-28T23:03:00.000-04:00

My roomate should not be allowed to watch tennis. He clearly lacks the emotional and mental stability to withstand a best of five set match, especially when the first two sets go to tiebreakers. He also doesn't know his political right from left, the difference between Ben Folds and Dave Matthews, or that his Italian accent is terrible.In shot, my roomate is a moron. He's educated, savvy, smart even, but he is quite clearly a moron. And this doesn't seem to bother him or anyone around him.
It's been interesting to see just how many morons manage to infiltrate institutions of higher learning. I've come across some first class idiots in my travels. Surprisingly, even institutions for "gifted" students have their fair share. Many of these idiots have impressive resumes, absurd numbers of college credit and high-dollar scholarships. I fear many will end up getting much better grades than me. How is this possible?
Well, for starters, I walked out without my key today. Twice. In the course of an hour. Fortunately Rob was here to let me in and no damage was doen, but the problem is still the same. I'm a moron and appear to be (given my lineage) destined to remain this way for awhile.
The more I think about it, the more ridiculous the world seems. We are, after all, talking about a place where people pay for bottled water. Dan Quayle couldn't even spell potato. And my friend Megan, who has a car very near her dorm, responded to my request that she "pick me up" in a downpour by walking across campus and handing me an umbrella.
So maybe it's ok to be a moron. The world needs its stupidity, without which everything would be efficient and absolutely no fun. That's why I'm going to try out for Chi Rho, an a cappella group at WFU which is waaaaaay out of my league, even if it makes me feel, well, like a moron. Because even though I probably didn't even spell a cappella correctly, I gave it a try. That's worth something, right?

Here We Go

2006-08-24T14:01:00.000-04:00

I'm now done with two days of class and, believe it or not, I got into the exact classes I wanted to. Now I just have to learn to speak spanish, diagnose micro and macroeconomic ills, understand the spiritual and literary precedents of a little book I like to call the Bible, oh, and learn how to program a computer. No problem.
Knowing exactly which classes I'm taking is nice, but knowing that now I have to take them is not. I've become rather comfortable here in a relatively short period of time. Now I'm not getting to sleep as much and I actually kind of miss part of my social scene. Who knew I had a social scene? So here goes: it's time for the hard part. I'm off to get some software on my laptop to support Java programming and then to learn espanol. Ever feel a little in over your head?

Restart

2006-08-17T22:43:00.000-04:00

You may have noticed a new title for this blog. I always feel out of place in large groups of people, especially when I don't know most/all of them, and so I thought I might call this "Stranger in a Strange Land." But then I remembered that I've been on/around this campus pretty much my whole life, so I thought the present moniker more appropriate.
I'm now four days into my college adventure and the first pangs of homesickness have finally set in. I knew they were coming and I'm proud to say they're by no means severe, but still, it's not my best moment. I've just gotten off the phone with Crystal, and as always, she helped me with my problems. I don't deserve her.
Preschool, despite the condescension implied by its name, was enjoyable and I certainly give it my reccomendation. Already I'm eyeing a spot in Chi Rho, a male a cappella group who performed for us. Odds are not good I'll make it, but I think I'm going to try. All in all, I'm glad I went to Preschol. I don't know whether or not I'd like to go back next year as a leader, but I haven't ruled it out.
My room is now set up and I have a computer of my very own. I even have a fancy schmancy carrying case, courtesy of my dear father. It is far too early to make any accurate predictions about whether or not we'll get along and live well together, but early indications are promising. Rob seems calm, easy to get along with, and best of all, he's already spent a good deal of time outside of the room doing who knows what. This means lots of time watching whatever I want on television; I'll be just fine.

Since I wrote that last paragraph three friends (well, two friends and a roomate) have come and gone and a fine game of nerts has been played. Hope springs eternal, and for now I'm feeling...ok. For my first real departure from home, ok is as good as I could hope for.

Back From NYC

2006-07-10T16:42:00.000-04:00

I ran home from New York Saturday, and boy are my legs tired!
Actually, I'm just bored. Nothing of great importance to speak of today, except that I just got a my campus email address (nilarh6@wfu.edu) and a Facebook account (same address). Please contact me at these locations; I have no friends.

Cup

2006-07-01T14:27:00.000-04:00

I just finished watching Portugal beat England in penalty kicks to advance to the semifinals of the World Cup. Wayne Rooney, you are a dirty, dirty man. And the striker England subbed in around the 70th minute is one ugly fellow. But that doesn't matter now; Portugal advances, Aho laments, and two hemispheres away a college student is kissing his television.
That last bit was a reference to Stuart Carolisson, a college student in Cape Town whose family hosted me on our mission trip to South Africa two years ago. While I was there, Portugal beat England on penalties in the quarterfinals of UEFA 2004 (basically the World Cup, but only for European teams). and Stuart dropped to his knees and kissed the television after Portugal's keeper scored the winning shot (that's right, the keeper). That shootout was also memorable becasuse David Beckham, International Man of Mystery, lead off the festivities by missing the goal by about six feet. The match (which was of much higher quality than today's affair) lasted well into the night in Cape Town, and I remember looking at all of our group members the next morning and guessing which of them came from a Portugal house and which from England. The Portugese crowd were in considerably higher spirits.
Watching the match prompted me to do something I haven't done in two years; I emailed Stuart to catch up. I can't tell you why it's taken me so long to do this, except that I think I tried once and sent my message to the wrong address. I'm so blasted awkward on written correspondence, I usually just give up and don't write at all (hence, I'm still working on thank-you notes for graduation presents). But I wrote to Stuart today, and hopefully, should he still have this same email address, he'll respond in less than two years.
South Africa was an incredible experience for me; I hope I don't let the friendships and relationships I acquired in less than two weeks slip away because of awkwardness or sloth. As I contemplate the future, I'm beginning to see the value of long distance relationships. Sure, they're hard, but they're rewarding as well. Most of my current friendships are anchored by geographic convenience; soon that prop will be pulled away and I fear I haven't built a strong enough foundation for them to stand on their own. Wow, I didn't intend that sentence to be as figurative as it was. I apologize.

Gap

2006-06-23T10:49:00.000-04:00

I picked up the mail for Stella at the office today, and included with the bills and flyers were several cd's she had ordered. She was very excited to have them, but was disappointed that her car didn't have a cd player in which to put her new music. Rather than have her car's stereo replaced, I suggested she use a tape-deck adapter, but the blank look in her eyes revealed that she had no idea what I was talking about.
For those of you who don't know, a tape-deck adapter is a handy device that plugs into a portable cd player (or anything with a headphone jack) and transmits the information along a wire to a cassette that you then put into your car's tape player. This is no revolutionary piece of technology; it's been around for at least ten years and is, as far as I'm concerned, the most ghetto way of playing music through a car stereo; needless to say, that's how I listen to my iPod.
I had this same conversation with my father a few months back, whose mind was fully blown by this and other technological marvels like portable speakers. I know I'm not the first to propose that there is something of a generation gap that divides those who grew up wired from those who didn't. But this is just ridiculous.
I wonder what effect this gap has on us, our communication, our worldview. The world can't ever seem as big to a person who gets his news from the BBC online or who has checked out apartment complexes in Tokyo via Google Earth as it did to a person who grew up in the 60's. My parents remember black and white television sets, life without cell phones and actually know what a Burma Shave sign is. My mom didn't lock her doors when she grew up (still doesn't in her car), but I have password-protected email accounts to keep my personal information from being stolen. It's just a completely different world. And that's just one generation back; think about grandparents.
Communication between humans is all about having something in common. We speak in parables and with analogies because words can't fully convey what we mean. Thus, having seen a small sheet of paper, the best I can do is tell Crystal that it's the size of a floppy disk. But my kids will have no idea what a floppy disk is, nor will they remember that floppy disks weren't nearly as floppy as the wide, flat disks that preceeded them. In fact, they're unlikely to ever use a cd. I know it's small, but it's something that we'll never have in common. What else from my world won't exist in theirs? What effect will that have on our ability to understand one another?
Such is the thought pattern tha comes from having lots of free time at work.

Yeah, What He Said

2006-05-31T15:59:00.000-04:00

I've had a good bit of down time since school let out, which means I've had time to let my mind wander. This is a dangerous thing; when my mind wanders I end up with convictions and sweeping statements that later get me in trouble.
Yesterday, after some lasagna and fellowship en la Casa de Wilson, I paid a surprise visit to Aho to check on the hocky game (the Canes lost). The conversation turned to Aho's friend Gmoney, whose blog I have neglected recently. I just finished reading one of his newer sermons, and I think Gmoney has done a better job at putting into words parts of a notion I've been tossing around a lot lately. Should you have the time and feel so inclined, read this sermon and let me know what you think.

Limbo

2006-05-29T13:44:00.000-04:00

I had a dream last night (well, this morning (well, actually, this afternoon)) that it was once again the last day of high school, only for some reason I was in middle school and Mrs. Lowry was my substitute computer app teacher and I kept having to kill time waiting to get out. It was weird, rather unpleasant, really, and for the first couple of minutes after I woke up I wasn't sure whether or not the dream had been real.
Only a dream, to be sure, but last night's (this afternoon's) misadventure kinda represents my mental state right now. I'm in limbo in a lot of ways, and it's starting to get to me. Mount Airy City Schools has done an excellent job by putting a week in between the last day of school and graduation. Though I got out of school last wednesday, I don't graduate for another five days. It's weird, and I keep having social events (tennis, service of celebration) that bring up the "we're not in high school anymore" while still being very much in high school.
It's kind of annoyind, kind of scary, and an awful lot like getting into a cold swimming pool slowly. Sure, it seems safer to dip your toe in and wade slowly, but the whole process is a lot less painful if you'll just dive in and get it over with.

Exhale

2006-05-05T22:02:00.000-04:00

Well, you should probably inhale first.
Now breathe out; don't you feel better? I certainly do. Sometimes it's nice to just stop and get caught up with your oxygen intake.
It's been a doozy of a week for me, with four AP tests and the conference tournament all coming in a five day period. Now I'm looking forward to long naps and no studying. I don't know what kind of week all of you had (I know Mom and Dad had tough ones) but I would suggest that if you're as stressed as I am you should just take a long moment and exhale. Feels good, doesn't it?
Still not relaxed? Well, just remember that it could be worse; you could be Mrs. Hutchinson. Ole Hutch is in charge of all the AP tests at our school, and after several years of flawless execution the wheels came off this week. She encountered unannounced construction, screaming kids, late buses, having the wrong tests on the wrong day, and locking all the exams along with her keys in the trunk of her car, to name a few of the hardships this week. Mrs. Hutchinson, if you're reading this, I think you should take a moment and exhale.
Now doesn't that feel better?

Hear Me Out

2006-04-25T20:47:00.000-04:00

I know that most of you will go your entire lives without thinking "Hmm, I wonder if there's a hockey game on tonight," but I intend on spending the next couple of paragraphs telling you why you should.
A lot of people remarked that they really didn't miss hockey at all last year during the strike. I pretty much agreed, although I contend that the world would be no worse off without the NBA as well. But I remembered how exciting the Hurricanes' playoff run was a few years back, and I kept the flame alive, so to speak.
This year, I got to see the Canes live (thanks be to aho) and I learned a little about how the game works. Despite what the untrained eye may perceive to be chaos on ice, a hockey game is actually more like carefully choreographed...ok, it still looks like chaos to me.
But it's fun chaos. I'm beginning to see some basic strategy, which to me looks kinda like a high school soccer game at warp speed. Except that the passing is intricate, the footwork amazing, and...so my soccer analagy breaks down.
The point is that the NHL season is really, really long and watching hockey takes a little more effort than taking in a basketball game. But it's much more rewarding, and not just because of the fighting. It's rewarding because eventually the season ends and the playoffs start, and then everything goes crazy.
Something about the playoffs brings out the best in the NHL. The players go hard, all the time, and pull out some interesting moves. And every game is a classic. Double and triple overtime is more or less inevitable. Thanks to the new rules (I don't know what they are, but the guys on ESPN talk about 'em all the time), the game is faster and scoring is up, which means a more exciting experience for the novice fan. The Canes pulled their goalie with two minutes left in regulation last night and scored in the last minute to tie the score at 6-6 (they lost in double OT, though.) That's twelve goals in three periods. That, my friends, is fun to watch.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't deny the truth in front of me: playoff hockey is the most exciting professional sports event in America. I've seen Superbowls and World Series and the Kentucky Derby and the finals of the U.S. Open (in three sports) and I just can't find anything quite like this. Towards the end of the game the players act like the world is ending. And every so often a team goes on a power play, meaning that for one and a half to five minutes my heart is going to be pounding. It's like aerobics or something.
So I recommend you join in the fun. Not only will you enjoy the experience, you'll enjoy feeling like a non conformist when you ask your friends the next da y "Can you believe how well Paul Kariya is playing? Best rookie I've ever seen." And since you'll be new to the sport like me, you won't be lying about that last part. The best way to get into any sport you don't know well is to pick a player or team to root for and just pull for them blindly until you start to pick things up. That, or find someone who knows what they're talking about, but that one' s a little harder. Better hurry though, the Canes are down 2-0 and the next couple of games are gonna be in Montreal. They need all the positive mojo they can get.

Day 18

2006-04-17T22:43:00.000-04:00

And so it ends.
Today is the last day of the last major break from the last semester of my last year of mandatory schooling. Tommorow I return to school, to the annoyance of Calculus, the ordeal of English, the stress of Journalism, and the mind-numbing activity of Computer App. On the other hand, I do get to see my favorite lunch ladies again.
It's all over: the snoozing, the schmoozing, the idle musing. Gone are the three a.m. specials on the History Channel, the four p.m. naps 'just cause', and my new horticulture hobby. Fare thee well, loved activities, I hardly knew thee.

Inertia

2006-04-12T18:30:00.000-04:00

A nasty combination of worries, unhealthy habits and seasonal nasal allergy symptoms had pretty much exhausted me by last friday, so Spring Break has come as a lovely change of pace. Unfortunately, I've never quite learned how to handle days off. Much like my car, whose temperature controls consist of "hot" and "cold", I have two modes: "Work/Worry" and "Sleep All Day." I'm really not sure one mode is particularly more productive than the other, to be honest.
This week has given me an extended period to employ my "Sleep All Day" mode, and since my down time has been accompanied by a lot of alone time as well, I've morphed into an interesting creature.
I've completely lost track of time. I kinda drift through the day, which lasts anywhere from 6 to 18 hours, depending on whether or not I have a tennis match and how well I nap through any given afternoon. I have strange dreams (last night's most notable: in a department store, a clerk makes me mad, I speak to him, he slaps me. His manager does not care when I complain, I storm out angrily). When conscious, I find myself watching the same two channels on TV (ESPN or the History Channel) and not really paying attention or playing the same two songs on the piano (Fred Jones pt. 2 and The Luckiest) and not really trying very hard. I caught myself arguing with the ghost of Mr. Mayo yesterday, furiously declaring that World War II alone could not have ended the Depression, but rather it was the war combined with FDR's restructuring of our financial system that did the trick. And as the ghost of Mr. Mayo refuses to captitulate I grow angrier by the second. Don't get me wrong, it's better than school, but I'm really not even enjoying myself that much.
I think this is really getting to me; look at the syntax in that last sentence if you want proof. It's quite a funk I've fallen into. Two notable departures from my sloth occured last night and this morning and give me hope. First, I had the pleasure of entertaining a certain golden retriever (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent). The dog's enthusiasm is matched only by his ability to cover me in saliva; I was in love immediately. Second, I cleaned my room this morning. Sloth or no, Mom decreed that upon her return from Raleigh she would find my dwelling to her liking, and as visions of Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God flashed through my mind I reluctantly tidied my belongings (the living room is another story).
At least I'm trying. I read two chapters in Light in August today, cleaned my room and at this very moment I'm attempting to type. It's a start. Choir practice is in less than an hour and that never fails to lift my spirits, even if only for a little while. I just need some jolt to wake me up.
That's where the inertia comes in. I've been told that a body at rest will remain at rest until an outside force compels it to move. Now, my mother can attest that often even outside force is inadequate at getting this particular body to move, but I'm optimistic that somewhere out there lies a force powerful enough to knock me out of this orbit I've fallen into. Maybe one of you can help. I'm desperate, cause if this goes on much longer I'm gonna wake up in a coupla days covered in dog hair and with absolutely no idea what's going on.

Double Posting

2006-04-12T18:19:00.000-04:00

I read my blog today for the first time in awhile (I don't generally care for the content on this site) and noticed that my latest post has been loaded twice. I have no idea why this happened. Sorry for any inconvenience; just take it as an oppurtunity to read twice the yummy goodness you're used to.

Day 11

2006-04-10T22:34:00.001-04:00

For those of you that don't know, I'm now on Day 11 of an 18-Day odyssey of epic proportions. Thanks to teacher workdays on March 31st and April 17th, a week of spring break and three days in NYC on a school trip, I have been given an 18-day window in which I am required to attend school only twice. Life is good, my friends.
I put in my two school days last week, so now all that's left is a solid week of me time. Plans abound as to what to do with all this time, I'll elaborate on those in another post perhaps.
For now I shall just enjoy the sleep and relaxation, though I've had consiberably less TV time than I thought I'd have. Oh well.
On a side note, I had lunch today with Aho and Kellan and Jamie Dowell. It was fun to see my friends and talk a little bit and eat at Snappy Lunch for the first time in a long while. The combination of today's lunch, last night's youth activities, and reading William Faulkner has got me on a kick. I've been thinking a lot recently about the idea of community, about circles of friends and acquaintences and whether or not we have the same sense of community our parents did. At GSE we talked about communitarianism and I was rather skeptical, but the closer I get to graduation the more I begin to value the collective "We." I've always viewed groups as collections of individuals, and I still think the concept of society is overblown, but I'm beginning to see what my teacher, Andy, values in his community. This is a rather random musing to take place during spring break, but I suppose that's what happens when I stop thinking about calculus. If you have a thought, feel free to share.
Day 11 is in the books. Day 12 is looking to be a good one, with tennis in Winston and a golden retreiver lingering in the wings. Should be fun.

Day 11

2006-04-10T22:34:00.000-04:00

Grace

2006-03-26T23:59:00.000-05:00

We sang what is possibly my all-time favorite anthem at church today: Were it Not for Grace. I wish I could get a recording of it, but since I don't know how I thought I'd leave the lyrics up here. I find them pretty comforting; maybe you'll get something as well.

Time measured out my days. Life carried me along.
In my soul I yearned to follow God but knew I'd never be so strong.
I looked hard at this world to learn how Heaven could be gained
just to end where I began where human effort is all in vain.
Were it not for Grace, I can tell you where I'd be:
wandering down some pointless road to nowhere with my salvation up to me.
I know how that would go, the battles I would face
forever running, but losing the race
were it not for Grace.
So here is all my praise expressed with all my heart
offered to the friend who took my place and ran the course I couldn't even start.
And when he saw in full just how much his love would cost
he still went the final mile between me and Heaven so I would not be lost.
Were it not for Grace, I can tell you where I'd be:
wandering down some pointless road to nowhere with my salvation up to me.
I know how that would go, the battles I would face
forever running, but losing the race
were it not for Grace.

Victory (Part II)

2006-03-25T14:15:00.000-05:00

I got into college today. Or rather, I got into college and university today. This is exciting on a number of levels, most prominently the level that includes me not going to Surry Community College next year. Nothing against the place, I was just hoping for something a little farther away from home.
Davidson and Carolina sent me their letters this morning (Davidson actually sent an academic catalog two days ago without explanation) and Carolina has already given me an email address. I think I'm gonna get a Facebook with my Carolina acccount just for giggles.
So the decision process begins. My initial desire was to get the Morehead so I someone would make the college decision for me, but since those blasted heels didn't cooperate I guess it's time for some soul searching. A lot of people I talk to know exactly where they want to go; I envy those people. Adding to the confusion is the money situation, which though not that big a deal is still in the back of my mind. Speaking of which, I'm a finalist for the Armfield scholarship (that letter came this morning, too; it's been a good mail day for me).
The next two weeks or so should probably bring word of any scholarships and therefore bring the moment of truth/decision for me. Your proyers would be appreciated.

Victory

2006-03-21T18:42:00.000-05:00

It rained for the second straight day today, postponing our match with Elkin and giving me a rare oppurtunity to get in some errands I had been meaning to run. The most notable of these was not so much an errand at all, but rather an oppurtunity.
William John and I have been saying that we would play raquetball since the middle of the last swim season, but with tennis and such we never got around to it. Today I finally caught up with the wily critter, and boy was it ever satisfying.
For the record, William has never held a raquetball raquet in his life; this was his first go-round. But nevertheless, I am really really pumped to have won. I don't care how long I've been playing or how little he knew about the rules: I handed a racket and a ball to William John and came away victorious. Today is National Dance Day, so in honor of this and my victory I will take this oppurtunity to do a little jig.
Ryan jigs. People scratch their heads and look bemused.
Ok, that was a mistake; I'm still a little sore, I probably should've stretched first. Though my butt now hurts, it throbs with the tenderness of triumph. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take a long, hot bath.

No Deal

2006-03-20T21:30:00.000-05:00

I'm watching Deal or No Deal on NBC right now, a show I've hated from the beginning because it got picked up for another season at the exact time that The West Wing was canceled. The show features the simplest format I've ever encountered, even cheaper than Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Each contestant picks a briefcase from a selection of twenty five or so, and inside that briefcase is an amount of money, ranging from a single penney to a million dollars. The contestant then has to open the other briefcases to see which prizes he did not recieve. Along the way, a phantom banker offers the contestant a modest amount of money to stop playing, so about once every couple of minutes the contestant has to decided "deal or no deal."
It's compelling television, I'm not gonna lie. For a statistics geek like me, it's fun to calculate the expected value and see whether or not the contestant is making the right decision. And the pressure is incredible. The dude that was on tonight almost cried.
The banker's offers generally increase as time goes on, rewarding the contestants for sticking around and therfore creating a more exciting show. Tonight, our poor contestant decided to deal at the worst possible time, had he decided to quit one case earlier or later he would have gone away with almost $100,000 more. You really feel bad for the guy.
And then you think, "Wait, he just got $100,000 for standing on television. Who cares if his case held half a million? He's still going away $100,000 richer!" I'm actually a little mad; what other country in the world could make winning $100,000 a disappointment?
I wonder what our kids will think thirty years from now about what we thought was entertaining. I think they'll regard Who Wants to be a Millionaire and Deal or No Deal much as we regard the Gong Show and Laugh In: quaint and funny but indicative of some troubling cultural defect. And that's just the game shows; will future generations understand the ever-present reality tv craze? Do we even understand reality tv?
I remember being really disappointed with my mom when she got hooked on Survivor back in its first season. I thought she had sunk to the lowest depths of cultural gratification (I might have even used those words, though I was in sixth grade so I doubt I knew what they meant at the time.) She immersed herself in the show, its contestants, its rules, strategies and pitfalls, and before long she had me hooked too. So I worry that when my parents watch Deal or No Deal I might fall into the trap the way I fell into Survivor. What bothers me so much about the show? Is it because the particpants attitude toward the cash comes off as idol worship, or that Howie Mandel is so annoying? Is it something else? And then I marvel at my attitude toward the show; why does a person who likes South Park find shows like Deal or No Deal morally repugnant? How did I get so pompous, so self-righteous?
I am, by nature, a worrier, and there are so many conflicts flying around in my head right now that I have little time to muse on the cultural and spiritual significance of shows like Deal or No Deal. So I'll leave the thinking to you. Do you have any idea what bothers me so much about this? If you have any thoughts, do let me know; I could use a little resolution right now.

Notes from the Inside

2006-03-06T16:49:00.000-05:00

I tend to forget things very quickly, so I thought I'd share a few notes on my weekend in the enemy's territory.
This is a big university, but that doesn't mean it's not a small world. So far, I've run into Mackenzie Sumner (at a baseball game) and Bo Caudle (in a class); neither of them has noticed me and I never felt the need to say hello. I did, however, tell the people around them little tidbits about thier lives in Mount Airy, just in case they ever wanted to play mind games or something.
Carolina has, by far, the best cafeteria food of any institution I've ever been to. This is helpful, because they've treated us to many high class, fancy schmancy dinners and banquets this weekend and I've needed a little grease to keep my stomach in place.
It's no fun watching a game with people who are too into it. My personal issues with UNC aside, watching the Duke/Carolina game was annoying because the students were so loud I couldn't hear the commentary and jumped up and high-fived each other after every, EVERY UNC basket. I couldn't even see half the time. After the game ended, I reluctantly joined my colleagues on Franklin Street. I saw people climbing on poles, a huge bonfire (as well as five or six just regular-sized fires), but the most distinctive sight was a circle of people playing African drums. The party wasn't too much to my taste, but my roomate stayed out until three in the morning (in fact, I met him for the first time as he came in from that celebration.)
I went to University Baptist Church (I passed on Aunt Anne's beloved Binkley out of neccesity) yesterday. The service was interesting; their pastor also rushed Franklin Street the night before and was by no means an orthodox preacher. Their pastor was a member of the Morehead selection comittee for eight years or so, which makes me wonder about some of the people on who still are involved.
Two days of gorgeous weather ended this morning, and I awoke on the day of my interviews to find a dreary, rainy day. Despite the bad omens and such, the interviews went well (I think; I hope.)
I met up with Andy Pennock, a teacher from GSE, after lunch today and spent about an hour with him. It's good to catch up with friends, even if you don't really have much to talk about. He set me up with a friend (who was a guest speaker at GSE) who was teaching a class entitled Religion and Sociology. I enjoyed the class; the 32 page reading assignment was less entertaining.
That's all for now. I'll probably drop a few more notes after dinner tonight.

Rejection

2006-02-23T20:35:00.000-05:00

I got a letter from Wake Forest's Merit Based Scholarships division today. It took them two and a half paragraphs, but eventually they gave me the, "We regret to inform you that..." line. I didn't feel the need to read the rest.
So it's my first official rejection. It was only the Presidential Scholarship (based on talent in a specific area, mine being writing for publication), which I harbored no illusion I'd win anyway, but it's still no fun to be told you're not good enough. And it's not going to be the last rejection. I haven't heard from the Robertson people at Carolina (they forsake the courtesy of even the simple rejection letter) and my Poteat interview was less than outstanding.
And my forehand is keeping me from winning tennis matches. Dang.
So I hope you'll forgive me for barking when someone speaks as if I've already gotten the Morehead. Welker does it just to piss me off, but other people just don't know any better. The Mount Airy News ran an article about me being in the finals last Sunday (right underneath a picture of two mules) and ever since people have been telling me how proud they are that I won. And that is not a good thing. Allow me to explain.
There are 129 people left in the Morehead competition. Of those, 69 are from NC and the rest hail from locations as remote as New York, California, and Scotland. Let me repeat: some dude is flying to Chapel Hill from the land of Braveheart, probably with longsword in hand, to personally take me to task. The competition is intense and there are only about 45 scholarships total. Right now, 129 sets of family and friends are talking about how happy they are for their "Morehead Scholars". Considerably more than half of them will get a serious reality check.
I've got a lot on my mind; please, please don't add worry over being jinxed to the mix.
And it'll be fine. I'm not worried about winning or not winning (well, maybe a little), because, as a general rule, I have no idea what's best for me. Either way this (and all my other interviews) goes I'm gonna be fine.
So I'm asking for your prayers; not that I'll get the scholarship, but that God's will will prevail (I know the construction in that last sentence was bad, but I can't resist the oppurtunity to say "will will"). Because I can handle the rejection (though I offer no promises that I'll handle it in a particularly manly fashion) but I can't handle the disappointment of the approximately 3 million people who are "expecting great things" of me right now. Reading a letter from Wake Forest about a scholarship I didn't even care about was hard enough.

Waxing on Wang

2006-02-19T22:38:00.000-05:00

The Winter Olypmics are boing. Someone needed to say it, and you were thinking it secretly anyway, so I just thought I'd get it out in the open.
It's not just that most of the sports I've never heard of (what, exactly, is nordic combined?) or that half of the events are dominated by scandonavians. You just know someone from Norway is going to win the ski jumping because no one from anywhere else has ever TRIED ski jumping. By the same token, Americans are guarenteed the gold in snowboarding. It's just not even competitive.
But the real trouble behind the winter olympics is that the games themselves are boring. How many times can you watch a dude slide down an icy track before getting bored? The competitors beat each other by tenths of seconds; it's all the same to an ignorant viewer like me. I'm not trying to knock the dedication and skill of the athletes, I'm just saying that the sports are no fun to watch.
This year has been especially disappointing. I haven't gotten to see much short track speed skating, and I am still yet to see a single game of curling. Instead, I've been treated to round after painful round of ice dancing.
But there has been one bright spot this year: a little-known speed skater out of China that goes by the name of Wang Manli. Wang is a girl, but that doesn't take away from the fact that her name is awesome. Wang Manli; if only those names had come in the opposite order!
Globalization being as prevalent as it is, do you think that Wang has any idea what kind of effect her name has on the average american male? "Ms. Manli, how nice to see you. You look ravishing, tonight." That her first name is Wang only adds to the delight.
So thank you, Ms. Manli. Though it has nothing to do with your dedication to your sport, you amazing athletic abilities or your years of training, you have truly made my Olympics.

R-O-L-A-I-D-S

2006-02-11T18:18:00.000-05:00

...may spell relief, but W-A-K-E F-O-R-E-S-T F-A-N spells relieved.
We beat UNC Charlotte today, snapping a six-game losing streak and handing the forty-niners a "bad loss" that may well cripple their NCAA tournament hopes. Good to be the spoiler for a change. I'm pumped.
But wait a second, since when is beating Charlotte, Charlotte, by three at home a major victory? Weren't we the number one team in the country for a (very brief) time last year? What has gone so horribly, horribly wrong here?
I wrote a post called "Hope" a while back explaining why I can't detach myself from these situations. In the post I said that I can't help but hope for the best; maybe this year will be different.
And I was right; this year is differnt. REALLY different. Wake is 1-9 in the ACC, 13-11 overall, and not even a bubble team. Wake hasn't had a losing season since 1990. At the time I was two, so I don't remember anything about it. This means that this year could be the first in my sports-fan-lifetime without a basketball postseason.
And that has me wondering. I've survived almost two decades of tournaments as a Wake fan. Excluding the one NIT win, I've always had a season-ending loss to the season. I'm used to it; I have an annual ritual that helps keep me grounded. But this year there may be no colossal meltdown accompanied by that sickening stomach feeling. No week or so of pain and self-doubt. No identifying myself as a failure by association. No whimsical filling out of NCAA brackets with Wake in the final four only to have them (and my chances of winning the family pool) get washed out in the second round. None of that.
What kind of effect will this have on my already fragile psyche? Lacking my ritualized self-torture, will I be crushed of uplifted? Piled on top of college uncertainty and the fact that this month is february (I'll explain that one later), this lack of crushing disappointment may be too much for me. I fear I may succumb to the emptiness. On the other hand, I might, I dunno, invent something cool. It could go either way, really.
The guy in Robin Hood: Men in Tights said, "Tonight we're going to have a wedding, or a hanging. Either way, we all get to have a lot of fun, eh?" Stay tuned to see how this all turns out for me. Either way, it should be entertaining to watch.

Apparantly I'm It

2006-02-07T18:52:00.000-05:00

So I'm walking through the sanctuary last Sunday, minding my own business when suddenly I'm whacked in the chest by a runaway Bible. "You're being tagged," I was told by the author of chrisaho.blogspot.com. What I wasn't told is what being tagged means.
As best I can figure, tagging involves sharing personal information about yourself so the entire world can cease its endless debate over what your favorite movie is. I wouldn't want to turn down the oppurtunity to talk about my favorite subject: me. So here goes...
Four jobs I've had:
1) Chief Pertroleum Distribution Engineer for the Busy Bee gas station
2) Algebra II tutor
3) Dead-flower remover at Oakdale Cemetary (thanks to Michaelf Kerley for the assist on that one)
4) Being awesome (a position I've held for roughly 18 years now)

Four movies I'd watch on repeat:
1) A Few Good Men (even if the ending is almost unbearably inconclusive)
2) Raising Arizona-that opening sequence never gets old
3) The Matrix (the first one, naming all three is cheating, aho)
4) The West Wing Complete First Season DVD

Four TV shows I love:
1) The Daily Show
2) PTI
3) Good Eats
4) Modern Marvels

Four Vacation Locales I need to go:
1) Orlando during Spring Training (actually get to go there this spring)
2) Ireland
3) New Zealand
4) Fiji (as far away as you can go before you start coming back)

Four websites I visit daily:
1) Hotmail
2) actually, that's about it
3) don't surf as much as you might think
4) except, of course, this fine site

Four foods after which I lust:
1) Breakfast casserole
2) Cookie bars (Mother makes them once a year, except for this year, because she hates me)
3) Pasta Carrabba at Carrabba's
4) Filet Mignon from the Mount Airy Meat Center

Four changes I'd make to the house:
1) Hot tub, baby!
2) Escalators
3) Move the shower in my parents' bathroom upstairs
4) The bathrooms in the Dean Dome have these amazing urinals that run the length of the walls. They're like troughs, but for peeing in. My house of the future will include similar troughs spanning various walls, not neccesarily in the bathroom, because they facilitate keeping an eye on whatever's on TV. Plus they're just plain cool.

Four beers I like:
I've never had any alcohol (except for cough medicine) so I can't respond to this intelligently. If beer tastes like it smells I fear I shall never have a favorite. However, I do enjoy these fine beverages...
1) Roibos (a brand of hot tea from South Africa)
2) Mountain Dew-without which my mother and I could not function
3) Hi-C, Boppin' Berry flavor- a beverage I've enjoyed no more than five times in my life. But it's good man, it's good.
4) Water drawn from the faucet in my laundry room-the choicest I've ever sampled. You may try to fool me with water from the kitchen but I will not be deceived.

Four tags:
Sadly, I have no one to tag (except for aho, but that would be silly). So instead I challenge you, the loyal reader, to go out there and tag four people for me. I've seen your legions of MySpace pages, find someone out there.

Alrighty, that's about it. More in a day or two.

A Quick Shout Out

2006-01-30T20:23:00.000-05:00

...has to go to my dear Aunt Janice, who once again proved her mettle this evening in the area of being awesome. I've been battling a cold for five days now, and I had almost surrendered to my congestion in exhaustion (granted, the war metaphor is a bit of a stretch, but give me a break here; I'm sick). Just when it seemed that no hope was left, Aunt Janice, that saint of soothingness, that practitioner of palliatives, sent down some Zycom Intense Sinus Relief. Once again, I am at peace...at least for 10-12 hours. Aunt Janice, I should like to kiss you but I think I'm still contagious so this post will have to do. Madam, your services are always valued.

Bom Bom Bom Part II

2006-01-30T16:01:00.000-05:00

A while back I dedicated a post to the super-catchy song that plays in the background of the Jarhead trailor. By chance I finally stumbled across the song. It's called Jesus Walks, and it's by Kanye "George Bush does not care about black people" West. Aho, I can't believe you never pointed that out to me.
I downloaded the song (relax, I payed for it) and it's just as catchy over the course of three minutes as it was for thirty seconds. The language is a bit coarse, so perhaps mother should avoid it. For the rest of you, enjoy.

The Wide World of Idiots

2006-01-25T22:05:00.000-05:00

If you look in the top right corner of this window you'll see a few little buttons. One of them says "flag", which you should never, ever press on this page. If you do I shall be forced to be cross with you. A button you may feel free to press is the "next blog" button, located just to the right of the flag. It will take you to some random blog on blogspot's server. The results of blog surfing can be quite hilarious.
I must warn you that there's no telling what you'll find on these random pages. In my surfing tonight I ran across a page completely loaded with obscenities. Next came a page about kittens and funny news stories. This was followed by some stock broker's financial analysis. Next was a guy trying to learn to speak english. All very humerous.
At the end of my blog surfing this evening came this blog, which scared the crap outta me. I don't even understand it, but I know it's a little weird. See for yourself.

Worth the trouble

2006-01-23T19:52:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, I am the manliest being to ever roam the face of the earth. As Ray Stevens once sang, I'm a logger, up from Oregon, quite possibly the toughest man in the entire world. It is because I am comfortable with my overwhelming masculinity (and because I see Jennie was not penalized in her interview for saying she likes to read Nicholas Sparks books because they make her cry) that I feel free to tell you this.
I dern near cried today for the first time since sixth grade. I finished the novel The Kite Runner I had been reading for my AP English class and the blasted thing was just so emotional. And I was at school, in the middle of the computer lab of all places. No womanly weeping actually occured, but it was real close.
I don't know if any of you are familiar with The Kite Runner, but you certainly should be.
The Kite Runner is about a young boy growin up in Afghanistan shortly before the Russians invaded, but don't be scared off by the setting; this isn't a war novel, at least not for the first two hundred pages or so. The writing is nothing spectacular, but Khaled Hosseini makes up for this by delivering a really good story. That last line wasn't exactly elegant, but I think that's the beauty of the novel; there's no need to analyze or think too hard about The Kite Runner, it's just a good read.
I mentioned earlier that the last time I cried was in sixth grade. That outburst came at the conclusion of another novel, Where the Red Fern Grows. It has come to my attention that some people (specifically Matt Welker and Alexander Merritt) were not moved to tears at the end of this classic and even defied logic by finding humor in the tragic passing of Old Dan and Little Ann. These people are souless. That book is a masterpiece.
I know people like my sister generally avoid books that aren't about ill-fated romances or quirky modern working girls, but I hope their literary lethargy will not prevent them from enjoying what is, in my opinion, a novel well worth the trouble of reading.

You'll know to shoot me if

2006-01-22T23:33:00.000-05:00

I ever, and I mean ever decide to don something like this anywhere, much less at a tennis match. I have no fashion sense whatsoever, but I mean really, come on. The good people at the Lotto company have convinced Dominik Hrbaty that this outfit is attractive and not a disgrace to humanity. Tennis players are known for thier physical skill; fashion sense is not a prerequisite.
I would not, however, mind if Crystal decided to wear this sucker for her tennis class this spring. It would be embarrasing, but well worth the laugh.

I am Pimp

2006-01-18T21:56:00.000-05:00

Just in case you doubted my true status, take a look at this entry in the good ole Urban Dictionary. I swear I did not do this myself.
Click here for proof of my awesomeness

Hope

2006-01-15T20:33:00.000-05:00

The Indianapolis Colts lost a heartbreaker to the Steelers today, ending their season and adding yet another first-round playoff loss to Peyton Manning's resume. Two months ago they were 13-0, had wrapped up the NFL's best record, and were looking to be the first undefeated team since 1972. Then they lost to San Diego, then they lost again, and now their season is over. I commiserate, Colts fans. I totally get it.
I've had my share of athletic disappointment and heartbreak. For a Wake Forest fan, it just comes with the territory. While Duke and Carolina make perennial runs to the Final Four, my Deacs have strong regular seasons followed by second-round losses. In ten years Wake has been ranked number 1 twice, won a coupla ACC regular season titles, and had several first round NBA draft picks. This has yielded a grand total of one tournament victory: the NIT.
Then there's professional sports. My Atlanta Braves have won fourteen straight divisional titles. Fourteen. I'm eighteen years old; I do not remember the Braves not being in the playoffs. Yet every year, some punk Florida team (or worse, the Yankees) gets on a run after winning 85 games in the regular season and puts my team out. In five games.
The Panthers followed a 1-15 season with a trip to the Super Bowl, only to fall in the final seconds to the team I loathe more than any other (except, of course, for Carolina). The next season they missed the playoffs, only to get back in this year (only by the skin of their teeth). Anyone wanna take a guess as to how this season is going to end?
Sports divides the world into winners and losers, and I understand that for every champion there must be dozens of vanquished foes lying in the dirt. I tell myself that things could be worse: I could be a Clippers fan, or a Lions fan, or perhaps an alumnus of Rutgers. But every time I try to convince myself that obscurity is preferable to disappointment I remember how West Virginia caught fire in last year's NCAA tournament. And inside, a little part of me dies.
So maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but I can't help but feel that way sometimes. What I've learned from eighteen years of fanhood is that expectation is the greatest enemy. High rankings, promising starts, credit from the media: all of them can only mean bad endings. I develop low expectations as a defense mechanism. I cringed when the Panthers were Sports Illustrated's Preseason Super Bowl pick. Wake's preseason ranking was a curse because, of course, there was no way it would ever hold up. Not for me; it never does.
Why do sports fans do this to themselves? Most fans spend their lives coping with letdown, and unless you're a Yankees, Carolina, Duke, or Patriots fan, they worry even more during good seasons (fans of the aforementioned teams have other complexes, but I won't go into them right now). I remember how Red Sox fans would bicker every October during the Curse, how they'd argue with each other about how their beloved Sox were going to blow it this year. And the thing is, I do the same thing. When I turned on the Panthers game tonight and found my team up 13-0, I almost turned the TV off. I couldn't stand it; I didn't wanna go through losing a double digit lead.
Every time it happens I make a resolution. This is the last time I'm getting burned, no more obsession, no more personal connection with my team. I really mean it, I'm not doing this to myself anymore. But I just can't tear myself away, no matter how hard I try. It's like I'm programmed to care. All I can do is just brace myself for the worst.
And then the Panthers hold on to a small lead late in the game to beat the Bears. Wake Forest is playing Maryland right now, and though they trail by eight points, I can't help but glance at the TV and hope Justin Gray will hit a few three pointers. You just never know.
Andy Dufraine said in the Shawshank Redemption, "Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things." I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know that hope is the only thing that keeps neurotic fans like me going. Maybe that's why I keep watching, keep risking disappointment in the quest for jubilation. Because I just can't help but hope that maybe this time (or maybe the time after that) it'll be different.

Death of a Toad

2006-01-08T23:43:00.000-05:00

I have to analyze a poem for AP English called "Death of a Toad" by Richard Wilbur, U.S. Poet Laureate. I've been having fits with this sucker, and so I googled it in an attempt to get some guidance (also, I was bored).
I came across this site and I think it's pretty funny. If you have way too much time on your hands, you may feel free to take a look at it. Wilbur's poem is at the bottom of the page for reference.

Vengeful Rodents

2006-01-08T19:59:00.000-05:00

The Mount Airy News changed its front page format recently, removing my favorite part of the paper. No longer on front page is a small box at the bottom containing a funny or bizarre story from somewhere in the world. Maybe they ran out of interesting things to run. Just in case they're building up a collection of them, this story should do nicely.
I think I treat rodents, insects, and other pests well, so I have no sympathy for the guy who did this. Well, maybe a little. Still, I'm proud of the little rascal; he shows no sign of the turmoil he went through. Maybe he found a nice plastic surgeon.

10/01/06

2006-01-08T19:50:00.000-05:00

My mom is having surgery (nothing major, I'm told) this tuesday. Please keep her in your prayers if you're the praying type. Thanks.

A Good Long One

2006-01-03T00:16:00.000-05:00

Jennie says I don't do "good long ones" anymore. Of course, Jennie also sees zebras where they don't exist....
But she's right on this one. I don't write very much anymore, and I think it's because I just don't have that much time. "What else do you have to do?" you may ask. Well...
Not all that much, really.
So sorry for my negligence.
But I'm still not gonna write that much here.
I gotta go do...something.

Zebras

2006-01-03T00:12:00.000-05:00

We totally have them in Surry County. In fact, we have them in Toast. I'd show you a picture of one to prove it, but I don't have one. And besides, it's better to take my word for it. You need to believe people most of the time.
Unless, of course, that person is my sister. If she tells you she saw a zebra, just ignore her. We were in California, the sun must've have been playing tricks with her already feeble mind. She really saw a donkey, and no matter how hard she tries to convince other people (and herself) that she saw one, she didn't/
It WAS a zebra, really! You believe me, right? Why does no one believe me?!!
Because it was a freaking donkey. I'm sorry, Jennie. Three pairs of eyes saw it, and only one thought it was a zebra. Get over it.