Fifa World Cup - Qatar world cup 2022 draw:
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Thursday, November 13, 2008
Things
Hey. Things aren't nearly as bad as they were early this week.
Things have progressively gotten better. While things are by no means perfect, they seem to be more tolerable. Maybe it's my mindset on them. Or maybe I've gotten such a ridiculous amount of extra sleep these past few days that I'm just feeling more energetic -- despite the gloomy weather. Seriously, I feel like I'm living in Seattle. It's unnaturally cloudy these days.
Well that's all I got to report today. I feel like this post is sounding like the emails I send my mom once a week so she can "check up" on me. Usually I'm a little more reassuring when I send her details, but that's how it goes apparently.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
November
So a nightmare woke me up early yesterday morning. You probably think that's very mundane, and you're probably assuming I'll go into detail about it -- but I won't. Here's what I'm getting at. Does your mind ever pause to register where you are and what day it is when you wake up? Mine always does. Maybe it's a normal thing that everyone goes through. In fact, maybe it's so habitual that we don't notice it as much. Anyways, I've been getting in a nasty trend of waking up and instantly knowing where I am and quickly remembering what happened the previous day. That's the thing I hate -- especially when the previous day was moderately crappy. Most of the past week has been moderately crappy. It's very cold outside. I'm feeling socially inapt. I'm constantly reminded of my personal faults. The foundation of a potential relationship is crumpling under me. And all the while, my walk with Christ seems to be at a stand-still. Welcome to November.
Well, I'm trying to be optimistic. No one seriously wants to read about other people's problems. Maybe you do, and that's fine -- but I feel like my recent voice on here has been...well, emo. How did that happen?!
Anyways, what I'm getting at is this: the world I was waking up to seemed worse than the nightmare that caused me to wake up in the first place. Whoa, hold on -- don't think too hard upon that. That's not a cryptic metaphor or some song lyric. It might even sound unoriginal, however it's very true for me. In other words, Sunday wasn't a good day for me. I won't go into detail. It's nothing bad -- just things I wish I had more control over but don't. Ah, what can you do?
Well, I'm trying to be optimistic. No one seriously wants to read about other people's problems. Maybe you do, and that's fine -- but I feel like my recent voice on here has been...well, emo. How did that happen?!
Anyways, what I'm getting at is this: the world I was waking up to seemed worse than the nightmare that caused me to wake up in the first place. Whoa, hold on -- don't think too hard upon that. That's not a cryptic metaphor or some song lyric. It might even sound unoriginal, however it's very true for me. In other words, Sunday wasn't a good day for me. I won't go into detail. It's nothing bad -- just things I wish I had more control over but don't. Ah, what can you do?
Sunday, November 9, 2008
I wonder...
What's going to be in all the sidebar ads on the internet now that Obama finally bought the election?
Just thinking out loud. I'm positive he will be a great president. But this election season was proof that we live in a media-driven world.
Just thinking out loud. I'm positive he will be a great president. But this election season was proof that we live in a media-driven world.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Maybe Limbo
As much as I don't want my blog to turn into a place where I pour out my frustrations, I can't help but do a little recap on some recent (very recent) events.
I attempted this afternoon, against much hesitation and second-guessing, to make a "first move" towards forming a "more-than-friends" relationship with a special someone. I can tell you right here and now that I'm currently in the worst position possible: the Maybe Limbo.
Maybe is never a good answer -- not just in regards to asking a girl to hang out (in the library of all places!), but in almost every sense. Saying maybe is tantalizing. It gives you a glimpse of hope that appears so pleasantly close; however, if I know anything about girls (in which case I do, thanks to having two sisters), saying "maybe" is usually a method of avoidance. Okay. I can't speak for everyone -- especially the person who I'm attempting to pursue -- but I can tell you that giving the maybe is almost always subtle substitute for a blatant no.
Here's how I see it: If she truly wanted to get to know me more and hang out (in the library of all places!), she would have said yes. Flip the situation around: What would you do if you were asked by someone you secretly liked to hang out? You would probably drop all prior engagements and honestly try to make it work. Saying maybe doesn't have much enthusiasm behind it. Welcome to the Maybe Limbo.
Well, I'm still in the Maybe Limbo as I sit here at my desk typing into early hours of the evening -- anxiously waiting for a text message I truthfully want to come more than anything. I'm trying my best to be confident. I sadly have a history of failed relationships, and now I've put a lot of consideration and, to be honest, prayer into my current actions. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't certain I wanted it. I've grown to take this sort of thing seriously (maybe too seriously). What can I say? I don't want to get hurt and, more importantly, I don't want to hurt anyone else. The way I see it, this approach should work. So far I think it works...well, I can't say for certain. My success rate still remains low.
Maybe I'll give this approach a maybe.
I attempted this afternoon, against much hesitation and second-guessing, to make a "first move" towards forming a "more-than-friends" relationship with a special someone. I can tell you right here and now that I'm currently in the worst position possible: the Maybe Limbo.
Maybe is never a good answer -- not just in regards to asking a girl to hang out (in the library of all places!), but in almost every sense. Saying maybe is tantalizing. It gives you a glimpse of hope that appears so pleasantly close; however, if I know anything about girls (in which case I do, thanks to having two sisters), saying "maybe" is usually a method of avoidance. Okay. I can't speak for everyone -- especially the person who I'm attempting to pursue -- but I can tell you that giving the maybe is almost always subtle substitute for a blatant no.
Here's how I see it: If she truly wanted to get to know me more and hang out (in the library of all places!), she would have said yes. Flip the situation around: What would you do if you were asked by someone you secretly liked to hang out? You would probably drop all prior engagements and honestly try to make it work. Saying maybe doesn't have much enthusiasm behind it. Welcome to the Maybe Limbo.
Well, I'm still in the Maybe Limbo as I sit here at my desk typing into early hours of the evening -- anxiously waiting for a text message I truthfully want to come more than anything. I'm trying my best to be confident. I sadly have a history of failed relationships, and now I've put a lot of consideration and, to be honest, prayer into my current actions. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't certain I wanted it. I've grown to take this sort of thing seriously (maybe too seriously). What can I say? I don't want to get hurt and, more importantly, I don't want to hurt anyone else. The way I see it, this approach should work. So far I think it works...well, I can't say for certain. My success rate still remains low.
Maybe I'll give this approach a maybe.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Mountain Hardware Recap
I did end up buying the fleece shirt. And I bought a Camelbak bottle (the ones you see everyone with) to nudge the order over $50 to qualify for free shipping. It would have cost literally the same either way.
Okay. No more buying. We're in an economic crisis. Let's wait until the market gets back up.
Okay. No more buying. We're in an economic crisis. Let's wait until the market gets back up.
This post takes a random turn halfway...
Okay. First of all I need to thanks my new "follower" here on Blogger. I actually had no idea there were such things on here...but I guess there are.
So this weekend was fall break and yesterday I had the (distinguished) privilege to attend the Heartland Film Festival Gala in Indianapolis. It was totally random that I managed to score a ticket -- and for free, that is! I'm slowly learning that my profs are kinda...well, up in the business. They know people -- important people.
Anyways, the gala was ridiculously awesome. I was almost worried that I would be underdressed with my unmatching tuxedo and pants (I had to mix and match with my roommate's wardrobe). Still, black is black and the night was dubbed a "black tie affair"; you can never go wrong if you show up in a monochromatic ensemble. But still, there were some very classy people there. The air of the lobby reaked of Prada suits and gold cuff links. I felt out of place. Majorly.
I was there with 7 other students who (as far as I know) shared in my misplacement. We were young. Most everyone there was over 40 I'm guessing. It's this type of crowd that makes it possible for the institute to give away so much money to the festival winners. I'm betting if you make even a slightly generous donation you'll be forever glorified as an honorable patron.
Blah blah blah. Let's skip the award ceremony details and fastforward to the afterparty. I'll have you know that it was here that I was offered for the first time in my life if I'd like "a drink". That's right -- I never got smashed drinking Jack or Corona or "that cheap stuff" in the basement of some parentless suburban home during my high school years. No, it was at a film festival afterparty that I, for the first time in my life, could have drank alcohol. And I proudly declined -- thank you very much. All you ignorant high school juniors who think you're the bee's knees for downing a whole bottle can take said bottle and _______ it in your ________ .
Replace the above blanks with "throw" and "recycling can". Gotta keep it PG. Do your part. Recycle.
I don't know why, but I wanted to point that out. It has little to do with the festival, but I figured it was worth mentioning. Drunkenness infuriates me. And what infuriates me more is when it's underage. I like to eliminate the possibility of ever "losing myself" to something as materialistic and selfish as alcohol by abstaining from it.
Okay. Done rambling. Byeeeeeeeee.
So this weekend was fall break and yesterday I had the (distinguished) privilege to attend the Heartland Film Festival Gala in Indianapolis. It was totally random that I managed to score a ticket -- and for free, that is! I'm slowly learning that my profs are kinda...well, up in the business. They know people -- important people.
Anyways, the gala was ridiculously awesome. I was almost worried that I would be underdressed with my unmatching tuxedo and pants (I had to mix and match with my roommate's wardrobe). Still, black is black and the night was dubbed a "black tie affair"; you can never go wrong if you show up in a monochromatic ensemble. But still, there were some very classy people there. The air of the lobby reaked of Prada suits and gold cuff links. I felt out of place. Majorly.
I was there with 7 other students who (as far as I know) shared in my misplacement. We were young. Most everyone there was over 40 I'm guessing. It's this type of crowd that makes it possible for the institute to give away so much money to the festival winners. I'm betting if you make even a slightly generous donation you'll be forever glorified as an honorable patron.
Blah blah blah. Let's skip the award ceremony details and fastforward to the afterparty. I'll have you know that it was here that I was offered for the first time in my life if I'd like "a drink". That's right -- I never got smashed drinking Jack or Corona or "that cheap stuff" in the basement of some parentless suburban home during my high school years. No, it was at a film festival afterparty that I, for the first time in my life, could have drank alcohol. And I proudly declined -- thank you very much. All you ignorant high school juniors who think you're the bee's knees for downing a whole bottle can take said bottle and _______ it in your ________ .
Replace the above blanks with "throw" and "recycling can". Gotta keep it PG. Do your part. Recycle.
I don't know why, but I wanted to point that out. It has little to do with the festival, but I figured it was worth mentioning. Drunkenness infuriates me. And what infuriates me more is when it's underage. I like to eliminate the possibility of ever "losing myself" to something as materialistic and selfish as alcohol by abstaining from it.
Okay. Done rambling. Byeeeeeeeee.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Gloriously Vague: The Indie Stereotype
Second post in one day? This must be special
Okay. Time for a confession.
For the longest time (give or take 6 months) I've been afraid of a certain stereotype; however in the back of my mind I've been been secretly striving to achieve its title. I'm indie, I think.
According to Urban Dictionary, "indie" has a vast myriad of meanings. The most popular and reoccurring definition refers to music -- "Indie Rock". Short for "independent rock", the title is pretty much tacked on to any album that isn't under a major label. Even this can be reduced to a stereotype in itself: indie music is anything that isn't popular. I'll be the first to admit that there's a certain sense of "togetherness" and "universality" in enjoying a band that is hardly known outside its suburban hometown. You're just as normal, lame, quirky and unique as that dude up on stage rocking the electric mandolin or that girl in her mid-twenties who probably dropped out of art school to play keyboard and sing lead vocals.
When not referring to music, indie (according again to Urban Dictionary -- the infinite source of all things useless) is more of a style stereotype. If anything, it's a stereotype for someone who has no stereotype.
So yeah...I think that describes me. Of all the possible stereotypes out there, I'd rather have "indie" than anything else. This way I'm void of all stereotypes. Yay!
Okay. Time for a confession.
For the longest time (give or take 6 months) I've been afraid of a certain stereotype; however in the back of my mind I've been been secretly striving to achieve its title. I'm indie, I think.
According to Urban Dictionary, "indie" has a vast myriad of meanings. The most popular and reoccurring definition refers to music -- "Indie Rock". Short for "independent rock", the title is pretty much tacked on to any album that isn't under a major label. Even this can be reduced to a stereotype in itself: indie music is anything that isn't popular. I'll be the first to admit that there's a certain sense of "togetherness" and "universality" in enjoying a band that is hardly known outside its suburban hometown. You're just as normal, lame, quirky and unique as that dude up on stage rocking the electric mandolin or that girl in her mid-twenties who probably dropped out of art school to play keyboard and sing lead vocals.
When not referring to music, indie (according again to Urban Dictionary -- the infinite source of all things useless) is more of a style stereotype. If anything, it's a stereotype for someone who has no stereotype.
So yeah...I think that describes me. Of all the possible stereotypes out there, I'd rather have "indie" than anything else. This way I'm void of all stereotypes. Yay!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
No me gusta los deportes.
I was reminded again today why I don't play competitive sports anymore (especially of the contact variety).
Today my dorm wing had a pick-up soccer game. I'm not completely sure what "pick-up" means, but I assumed it hinted at a casual, non-intense game of stress-free competition. Obviously you can see where this is going.
Yeah, the game wasn't like that at all. I soon found out that our friendly game was really a practice game for our intramural team -- which I'm currently not participating in -- and for good reasons. The last time I played formal soccer was at age eight, and let's just say I wasn't the star player. Yep, no Italian blood here. All I have is endurance -- it's kinda my thing. Six years of cross-country paid off apparently. But skill? None. And it was blatantly obvious some of the hot-shot freshmen were simply toying with me. I'm that bad.
Despite my slightly damaged moral, I had fun. But this afternoon was a harsh reminder that my competitiveness is usually channeled in the wrong way. Instead of bringing my athletic "A-game", I tend to accept the fact that I, in all seriousness, suck at sports that involve moving a ball into a designated scoring area.
Alright, done complaining.
Today my dorm wing had a pick-up soccer game. I'm not completely sure what "pick-up" means, but I assumed it hinted at a casual, non-intense game of stress-free competition. Obviously you can see where this is going.
Yeah, the game wasn't like that at all. I soon found out that our friendly game was really a practice game for our intramural team -- which I'm currently not participating in -- and for good reasons. The last time I played formal soccer was at age eight, and let's just say I wasn't the star player. Yep, no Italian blood here. All I have is endurance -- it's kinda my thing. Six years of cross-country paid off apparently. But skill? None. And it was blatantly obvious some of the hot-shot freshmen were simply toying with me. I'm that bad.
Despite my slightly damaged moral, I had fun. But this afternoon was a harsh reminder that my competitiveness is usually channeled in the wrong way. Instead of bringing my athletic "A-game", I tend to accept the fact that I, in all seriousness, suck at sports that involve moving a ball into a designated scoring area.
Alright, done complaining.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
A Biblical Insight
Ok. What I'm about to say may be common knowledge to many of you -- I don't know where you all are coming from, so I can't say for sure. Anyways, my Biblical Literature professor said something really cool today and I felt like sharing it.
The 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness represents the 40 years the nation of Israel spent in the wilderness prior to entering Canaan. In many ways, Jesus is the "new nation" because he spent his time in the wilderness resisting temptation whereas Israel in the Old Testament constantly did wrong in God's eyes.
Do I have that right?
The 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness represents the 40 years the nation of Israel spent in the wilderness prior to entering Canaan. In many ways, Jesus is the "new nation" because he spent his time in the wilderness resisting temptation whereas Israel in the Old Testament constantly did wrong in God's eyes.
Do I have that right?
Friday, September 26, 2008
This makes me mad
Okay. My school is out in the middle of nowhere. Literally. And when you're nowhere near a major city you're not going to get very good wireless coverage -- be is phone or internet. Thus, my school spends a lot of my money on cell phone towers and "more" bandwidth. You might also know that internet bandwidth is pricey -- and being in the boondocks doesn't help with that. My school seems to be constantly debating whether or not they need to sign a new contract with AT&T or whoever.
Point being, my school needs to upgrade their bandwidth yet again. Why? Because it's a Friday night and Facebook and YouTube aren't working. Any website that carries more than just text information isn't working. That's why I'm on Blogger right now. And I'll probably update my Twitter after I post this.
I need my 'Book and my 'Tube!!
Point being, my school needs to upgrade their bandwidth yet again. Why? Because it's a Friday night and Facebook and YouTube aren't working. Any website that carries more than just text information isn't working. That's why I'm on Blogger right now. And I'll probably update my Twitter after I post this.
I need my 'Book and my 'Tube!!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Politics
I think unnecessary bipartisan issues have kept us from addressing our nation's current problems. When it comes down to the bare bones of the matter, an election can, and should, wait. We need to correct what needs correcting now.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Parents Weekend
It's that time of the year again.
My parents didn't come to last year's Parents Weekend and neither are they coming this year. I honestly can't complain -- this is by far the worst time to have your parents and family visit you at college. Everything's crowded. The one (singular -- ONE) restaurant in this town will be packed all night long. It's much more relaxed and fun to have your family visit you some random weekend rather than now.
Well, that's that. I don't want to talk about that anymore.
My parents didn't come to last year's Parents Weekend and neither are they coming this year. I honestly can't complain -- this is by far the worst time to have your parents and family visit you at college. Everything's crowded. The one (singular -- ONE) restaurant in this town will be packed all night long. It's much more relaxed and fun to have your family visit you some random weekend rather than now.
Well, that's that. I don't want to talk about that anymore.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Whoa...what? Seriously? Naw! Wait...really?!
According to a link a friend sent me, HBO Labs is going to be making a web series staring several YouTube talents (none of which are smosh).
. . .
That was also my reaction. This is such a bad idea. Rhett and Link couldn't even do this on the CW.
Easy money, HBO.
. . .
That was also my reaction. This is such a bad idea. Rhett and Link couldn't even do this on the CW.
Easy money, HBO.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Because I'm a Sophomore, Freshman
Tomorrow I move into Wengatz Hall to kick off my second year at Taylor University. It's about time, too. Time is seriously moving at the speed of smell here. I'm basically all packed up except for the last minute things (i.e. my labtop), so I'll be finishing up the rest later tonight or early tomorrow morning.
Let's make some magic this year.
Let's make some magic this year.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
"With man this is impossible..."
Alright. This is about a week overdue, I know. Unfortunately, being very active for an entire month didn't correct my old habit of easily falling into lazy tendencies. This past week has been...odd. Time seems to be moving at the speed of smell -- then again I look back every night at what I did during the day and notice how fast time flies.
Agh, I just want to leave and get back Wengatz Hall where I belong.
Anyways, let's talk about my counseling job at Kanakuk Kamps. The four weeks that I was there defined my summer for me. I've never had a job that demanded so much of me -- but in return rewarded me with so much. And no, money has nothing to do with it (besides, I underestimated how little my paycheck was going to be anyways). No, I'm talking about "non-perishable" rewards that you'll take with you the rest of your life.
Of all the things I took from my time at kamp, there's one thing that I know is noteworthy:
Matthew 19:26 Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."
Yeah, I've heard that one, too. The disciples asked who among them can be saved, since Jesus just claimed it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rick man to enter the kingdom of God.
Let's cut to the chase. Am I willing to do what the rick man could not -- completely give up all I have for the sake of Christ? And no, I'm not just referring to money and our American luxuries. Am I willing -- or even able -- to give up all that I am for Christ? My reputation? My dignity? My honor (whatever honor a sophomore in college can possibly have)?
I've spent the greater part of this past year building myself up for what I hope to be the best year of my life. I'm at a good school. I got lots of friends I'll be returning to. I even got an awesome lineup of media classes I'll be taking. All the while, I'm enjoying myself on YouTube and several other online communities in hopes to meet new people. Listen, that's great and all -- seriously, I love all those things. But that's just it . . . that's what I'm living for. The things of this world won't last; however, that's what I appear to be most interested in.
This is where Kakakuk stepped in. Having four weeks to simply focus on one thing and one thing alone was a satisfying relief for me. It was like a timeout during a hectic, fast-paced game that resembles my life. The only thing I had to worry about at kamp was serving the kids. For four weeks my Facebook status didn't matter. For four weeks I didn't have to worry about making an awesome video in an attempt to get more subs. My academic life was at a pleasant stand-still -- no need to worry about classes, internships, or abroad study programs. My friends back home; they weren't going anywhere; they could wait. Simple.
I want that feeling all the time. I want to get back to a sense of harmony with both God and man -- where everyone around you is working for a common goal. In our situation at kamp, it was caring for the campers. Is it not possible for us to achieve this in the "real" world beyond a Christian sports camp and a private Christian college? Should I just deactivate all my online accounts and move up north to the Yukon -- away from everyone?
I can't answer these questions. I want these to happen, but I know today's culture and society constantly pull on us to submit ourselves to something -- something other than God's will. I feel so much like the disciples right now. "Who then can be saved?" Luckily, I've already answered that question by citing the verse. Convenient, yes, but it's much harder to live these things out than to simply wear the façade.
Agh, I'm digging a hole here it feels like. For those of you who have read this -- thanks. These thoughts have been on my mind for a while now and this may have been the perfect time and place to just let them out. So again, thank you. And yes, advice is gladly appreciated.
Agh, I just want to leave and get back Wengatz Hall where I belong.
Anyways, let's talk about my counseling job at Kanakuk Kamps. The four weeks that I was there defined my summer for me. I've never had a job that demanded so much of me -- but in return rewarded me with so much. And no, money has nothing to do with it (besides, I underestimated how little my paycheck was going to be anyways). No, I'm talking about "non-perishable" rewards that you'll take with you the rest of your life.
Of all the things I took from my time at kamp, there's one thing that I know is noteworthy:
Matthew 19:26 Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."
Yeah, I've heard that one, too. The disciples asked who among them can be saved, since Jesus just claimed it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rick man to enter the kingdom of God.
Let's cut to the chase. Am I willing to do what the rick man could not -- completely give up all I have for the sake of Christ? And no, I'm not just referring to money and our American luxuries. Am I willing -- or even able -- to give up all that I am for Christ? My reputation? My dignity? My honor (whatever honor a sophomore in college can possibly have)?
I've spent the greater part of this past year building myself up for what I hope to be the best year of my life. I'm at a good school. I got lots of friends I'll be returning to. I even got an awesome lineup of media classes I'll be taking. All the while, I'm enjoying myself on YouTube and several other online communities in hopes to meet new people. Listen, that's great and all -- seriously, I love all those things. But that's just it . . . that's what I'm living for. The things of this world won't last; however, that's what I appear to be most interested in.
This is where Kakakuk stepped in. Having four weeks to simply focus on one thing and one thing alone was a satisfying relief for me. It was like a timeout during a hectic, fast-paced game that resembles my life. The only thing I had to worry about at kamp was serving the kids. For four weeks my Facebook status didn't matter. For four weeks I didn't have to worry about making an awesome video in an attempt to get more subs. My academic life was at a pleasant stand-still -- no need to worry about classes, internships, or abroad study programs. My friends back home; they weren't going anywhere; they could wait. Simple.
I want that feeling all the time. I want to get back to a sense of harmony with both God and man -- where everyone around you is working for a common goal. In our situation at kamp, it was caring for the campers. Is it not possible for us to achieve this in the "real" world beyond a Christian sports camp and a private Christian college? Should I just deactivate all my online accounts and move up north to the Yukon -- away from everyone?
I can't answer these questions. I want these to happen, but I know today's culture and society constantly pull on us to submit ourselves to something -- something other than God's will. I feel so much like the disciples right now. "Who then can be saved?" Luckily, I've already answered that question by citing the verse. Convenient, yes, but it's much harder to live these things out than to simply wear the façade.
Agh, I'm digging a hole here it feels like. For those of you who have read this -- thanks. These thoughts have been on my mind for a while now and this may have been the perfect time and place to just let them out. So again, thank you. And yes, advice is gladly appreciated.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Hard Drive Relics: A Look Into Previously Written Stuff
This "story" was written during this past year's J-term -- as the pretext will explain. Much like my current progress with YouTube, my blog ideas are lacking in creativity. Sounds like the perfect time to dust off some old Word documents from last semester.
Before I move on, let me explain what "Luck Ran Out" is. "Luck Ran Out" is me copying the story narrative style found in Frank Miller's Sin City graphic novels. You can totally see what I mean once you start reading. I was in fact planning on using this so called "plot" as a video idea -- but that obviously fell through.
Enough rambling. Read the pretext (or skip the italics; I don't really care) and enjoy!!
It's J-term. There's basically nothing to do here during the day besides wish I had brought the Wii back with me from Christmas break. So in honor of being slightly academic during these uneventful days, I've written a short story. This is sadly what happens when you've seen every season of "24" and have grown bored with all the "Bourne Identity" movies, so enjoy.
Episode 1: Luck Ran Out
The smallest, faintest creak of a floorboard. Every nerve in my body ignites. That nasty feeling happens as I force back the lump in my throat: fear. A wise friend once told me that to fear is to not know the future. Then why the tension? Why the white-knuckled grip on that old, vintage six-shooter pistol of my grandfather's that until moments ago was gathering dust in the desk drawer? I've always known what the future held. It's just been a matter of how long I would be able to stay one or two moves ahead of my opponent. I've always known that fate would catch up with me, and tonight it finally has.
A single knock at the door – moments later a second one sounds out even louder. A third knock is replaced by the sound of a loaded shotgun followed by the deafening roar of wood being blown to splinters.
About two inches: the distance between my thumb and the hammer. Thumb back the hammer, you coward. Move your thumb up and load the damn thing.
It's no good. I'm frozen in place as light pours into the room while broken splinters crunch under charging footsteps. I gave it a nice run, didn't I?
Pick and choose your battles; tonight I’ll forfeit. What a sadistic relief…
Minutes later I find myself cuffed and blindfolded being led outside. They keep their talking to a minimum – only whispering when needed. In my mind’s eye, I counted four: two at my side, the other two walking somewhere nearby, undoubtedly scanning the parking lot for any unfortunate passerby. Heaven forbid the other tenants catch a glimpse of one of the residents being dragged off in the middle of the night.
A car door opens and I’m shoved inside. No use in buckling up for safety.
"Now," the voice came from the passenger seat. "are we going to have any trouble tonight, Mister Cantor?" His voice was shrill, cold, and muffled by what I guessed was a ski mask, most likely black with two holes for the eyes.
I didn't have to guess that the cold metal object pressed against my shoulder was a handgun's barrel. They don't play games.
"No."
"Good."
White. Only a fraction of a second of absolute pain and then piercing white light. A semi-truck crashed into the side of my head it felt like. My first pistol-whipping, I suppose. I had no idea someone was sitting next to me. Ouch.
The engine started up. I heard the driver curse about Harold getting blood on the seats. Something wet ran down my forehead and across my blindfold. I guess that would be my fault.
"Harold! He's not out!"
The man who hit me exhaled, clearly aggravated.
"Wait! Don't hit him again!" The driver almost sounded concerned. "With your luck, you'll send the poor bastard into a comma."
"Can't have that now, can we?" came a rather slow, almost gentle, voice.
A woman? There's a fourth person in the car?
"Ugh, he's in for one hell of a road trip," said Harold. "There's a first aid under the seat. Em, clean him up, would ya?
"Don't use names!"
"Hell, he already knows my name's Harold. Rob said it a minute ago!"
"Everyone! Shut up!" The driver -- Rob -- was angry.
The woman -- Em, or Emily, I'm guessing -- leaned in close to my ear and whispered. "The man riding shotgun is Pierce." She giggled.
"Seriously? Wow." Pierce didn't enjoy the humor.
The car shifted out of park. rolled forward, turned, accelerated, and turned again. We were on Guffin heading north.
To be continued...
Before I move on, let me explain what "Luck Ran Out" is. "Luck Ran Out" is me copying the story narrative style found in Frank Miller's Sin City graphic novels. You can totally see what I mean once you start reading. I was in fact planning on using this so called "plot" as a video idea -- but that obviously fell through.
Enough rambling. Read the pretext (or skip the italics; I don't really care) and enjoy!!
It's J-term. There's basically nothing to do here during the day besides wish I had brought the Wii back with me from Christmas break. So in honor of being slightly academic during these uneventful days, I've written a short story. This is sadly what happens when you've seen every season of "24" and have grown bored with all the "Bourne Identity" movies, so enjoy.
Episode 1: Luck Ran Out
The smallest, faintest creak of a floorboard. Every nerve in my body ignites. That nasty feeling happens as I force back the lump in my throat: fear. A wise friend once told me that to fear is to not know the future. Then why the tension? Why the white-knuckled grip on that old, vintage six-shooter pistol of my grandfather's that until moments ago was gathering dust in the desk drawer? I've always known what the future held. It's just been a matter of how long I would be able to stay one or two moves ahead of my opponent. I've always known that fate would catch up with me, and tonight it finally has.
A single knock at the door – moments later a second one sounds out even louder. A third knock is replaced by the sound of a loaded shotgun followed by the deafening roar of wood being blown to splinters.
About two inches: the distance between my thumb and the hammer. Thumb back the hammer, you coward. Move your thumb up and load the damn thing.
It's no good. I'm frozen in place as light pours into the room while broken splinters crunch under charging footsteps. I gave it a nice run, didn't I?
Pick and choose your battles; tonight I’ll forfeit. What a sadistic relief…
Minutes later I find myself cuffed and blindfolded being led outside. They keep their talking to a minimum – only whispering when needed. In my mind’s eye, I counted four: two at my side, the other two walking somewhere nearby, undoubtedly scanning the parking lot for any unfortunate passerby. Heaven forbid the other tenants catch a glimpse of one of the residents being dragged off in the middle of the night.
A car door opens and I’m shoved inside. No use in buckling up for safety.
"Now," the voice came from the passenger seat. "are we going to have any trouble tonight, Mister Cantor?" His voice was shrill, cold, and muffled by what I guessed was a ski mask, most likely black with two holes for the eyes.
I didn't have to guess that the cold metal object pressed against my shoulder was a handgun's barrel. They don't play games.
"No."
"Good."
White. Only a fraction of a second of absolute pain and then piercing white light. A semi-truck crashed into the side of my head it felt like. My first pistol-whipping, I suppose. I had no idea someone was sitting next to me. Ouch.
The engine started up. I heard the driver curse about Harold getting blood on the seats. Something wet ran down my forehead and across my blindfold. I guess that would be my fault.
"Harold! He's not out!"
The man who hit me exhaled, clearly aggravated.
"Wait! Don't hit him again!" The driver almost sounded concerned. "With your luck, you'll send the poor bastard into a comma."
"Can't have that now, can we?" came a rather slow, almost gentle, voice.
A woman? There's a fourth person in the car?
"Ugh, he's in for one hell of a road trip," said Harold. "There's a first aid under the seat. Em, clean him up, would ya?
"Don't use names!"
"Hell, he already knows my name's Harold. Rob said it a minute ago!"
"Everyone! Shut up!" The driver -- Rob -- was angry.
The woman -- Em, or Emily, I'm guessing -- leaned in close to my ear and whispered. "The man riding shotgun is Pierce." She giggled.
"Seriously? Wow." Pierce didn't enjoy the humor.
The car shifted out of park. rolled forward, turned, accelerated, and turned again. We were on Guffin heading north.
To be continued...
Friday, August 15, 2008
"But my diary is in Berlin..."
Okay. I'm officially a nerd.
No, I don't have a WOW account or a Level 50-something Paladin Knight -- but I just now realized (today of all days) that there is plenty (PLENTY) in my life that is nerd-ish.
Instead of teaching myself to play "popular" songs on the piano, I taught myself to play that slow, sad melody from "LOST" that's played whenever someone important dies (i.e. Charli-what?!? OMG SPOILERZ)...Why? Because I get emotional sometimes and I like it.
I play FINAL FANTASY Tactics A2, like, everyday...Why? Because I'm trying to get a vierra summoner with the red magick Doublecast spell. Pure pwnage.
I impersonate Sean Connery from "The Last Crusade" for the sole reason of wanting to say, "But my diary is in Berlin..." Why? Um, not quite sure on this one actually...
I still think Natalie Portman in "Attack of the Clones" is...um, how to say -- attractive? Why? Because I've always had a thing for the royalty turned warrior thing. Remember the arena scene? I do.
And worst of all, I don't follow college sports...no, I'm serious -- I don't watch them.
No, I don't have a WOW account or a Level 50-something Paladin Knight -- but I just now realized (today of all days) that there is plenty (PLENTY) in my life that is nerd-ish.
Instead of teaching myself to play "popular" songs on the piano, I taught myself to play that slow, sad melody from "LOST" that's played whenever someone important dies (i.e. Charli-what?!? OMG SPOILERZ)...Why? Because I get emotional sometimes and I like it.
I play FINAL FANTASY Tactics A2, like, everyday...Why? Because I'm trying to get a vierra summoner with the red magick Doublecast spell. Pure pwnage.
I impersonate Sean Connery from "The Last Crusade" for the sole reason of wanting to say, "But my diary is in Berlin..." Why? Um, not quite sure on this one actually...
I still think Natalie Portman in "Attack of the Clones" is...um, how to say -- attractive? Why? Because I've always had a thing for the royalty turned warrior thing. Remember the arena scene? I do.
And worst of all, I don't follow college sports...no, I'm serious -- I don't watch them.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
"You truly are incorruptible..."
This marks my second post that uses a Joker quote in the title.
Yes, I've been able to see "The Dark Knight" since I've been in Branson...twice. That's right, I saw the movie twice. I don't know what else to say right now besides Heath Ledger is a acting god and that the movie is currently occupying the number one seat on my favorite movie list. Now that's an accomplishment -- trust me.
That is all.
Yes, I've been able to see "The Dark Knight" since I've been in Branson...twice. That's right, I saw the movie twice. I don't know what else to say right now besides Heath Ledger is a acting god and that the movie is currently occupying the number one seat on my favorite movie list. Now that's an accomplishment -- trust me.
That is all.
Thurday August 7, 2008; with one week left to go
Well, it's about 10:49 on a Thursday night and I'm sitting at the lobby computer at a Best Western in Branson, MO. Tonight marks the first time in three weeks that I've had "real" internet access. All other attempts to get online have been in vain due to the strict staff policies of Kanakuk Kamps. However, I'm now on my night off. I've eaten some "real" food (Chipotle to be exact) and am getting ready for a refreshing night of air conditioning and a mattress that's over 3 inches thick. Absolute heaven.
As I've previously mentioned, I'm in Branson working at a Christian sports camp this month. I've got about a billion things to talk about -- but sadly computer access in the lobby is limited to 30 minutes and there appears to be a young girl here who wishes to check on her Webkinz. Anyways, I've got plenty to talk about in the comming weeks.
I'll be arriving back home sometime on the 12th of August...that is if I can figure out this Greyhound bus situation. That's right, I didn't drive myself from Indy to Branson like I originally planned. I instead took a Greyhound bus. Worst experience ever. EVER.
Let's move on.
Kamp has been great -- truly great. And that's not a typo -- Kanakuk replaces every word that starts with a "C" with a big 'ol "K". So, instead of being a counselor, I'm actually a kounselor. Instead of residing in Cabin 8, I'm really living in Kabin 8.
Anyways, lets move on with a more serious tone. I've learned a lot since I've been here -- and most of the insights I've gained have been through the kids. I've talked with two brothers from Cairo, Egypt who are probably the funniest people I've met. I've had a tear-jerking conversation with a boy named Caegan who fears for the eternal safety of his deaf and mentally handicapped older sister. He told me he prays every night that she'll have a new, restored body in Heaven. And this guy's 10 years old. Can you believe that?
Well, that's all I really have time for tonight. I wish I could go into detail like I usually do, but that'll have to wait.
As I've previously mentioned, I'm in Branson working at a Christian sports camp this month. I've got about a billion things to talk about -- but sadly computer access in the lobby is limited to 30 minutes and there appears to be a young girl here who wishes to check on her Webkinz. Anyways, I've got plenty to talk about in the comming weeks.
I'll be arriving back home sometime on the 12th of August...that is if I can figure out this Greyhound bus situation. That's right, I didn't drive myself from Indy to Branson like I originally planned. I instead took a Greyhound bus. Worst experience ever. EVER.
Let's move on.
Kamp has been great -- truly great. And that's not a typo -- Kanakuk replaces every word that starts with a "C" with a big 'ol "K". So, instead of being a counselor, I'm actually a kounselor. Instead of residing in Cabin 8, I'm really living in Kabin 8.
Anyways, lets move on with a more serious tone. I've learned a lot since I've been here -- and most of the insights I've gained have been through the kids. I've talked with two brothers from Cairo, Egypt who are probably the funniest people I've met. I've had a tear-jerking conversation with a boy named Caegan who fears for the eternal safety of his deaf and mentally handicapped older sister. He told me he prays every night that she'll have a new, restored body in Heaven. And this guy's 10 years old. Can you believe that?
Well, that's all I really have time for tonight. I wish I could go into detail like I usually do, but that'll have to wait.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
"Crazy people think they're getting saner."
To quote a line from LOST to kick off a blog is always a good move. And who better to say it than everyone's favorite John Locke.
Well it's about 12:30 in the morning right now (disregard the time at the bottom -- it's wrong) and I'm not planning on sleeping tonight. In about an hour and a half I'm going to be packing my car with my two oversized duffel bags and driving with my dad to the Indianapolis greyhound bus station. Sleep at this point is irrelevant. And at 3:45 I'll be on my way to Branson, Missouri for camp -- a 10 hour bus ride that I'm dreading at the moment.
I'm a long list of things right now:
Oh well, enough ranting and moaning. It's late, like I mentioned, and I tend to say/write things during these times that may sound completely stretched and over-the-top when I'm in a more rested mood. I'm hoping that's the case. It's like a newly sober person asking "I did WHAT last night?" Yes, no one likes a morning revelation such as that.
It's safe to say that this is my last blog post until mid-August. To all my readers (if any), take care and God bless.
Well it's about 12:30 in the morning right now (disregard the time at the bottom -- it's wrong) and I'm not planning on sleeping tonight. In about an hour and a half I'm going to be packing my car with my two oversized duffel bags and driving with my dad to the Indianapolis greyhound bus station. Sleep at this point is irrelevant. And at 3:45 I'll be on my way to Branson, Missouri for camp -- a 10 hour bus ride that I'm dreading at the moment.
I'm a long list of things right now:
- Anxious
- Nervous
- Sleepy
- Jittery
- Annoyed
- Insane? Nope, joking on that one.
Oh well, enough ranting and moaning. It's late, like I mentioned, and I tend to say/write things during these times that may sound completely stretched and over-the-top when I'm in a more rested mood. I'm hoping that's the case. It's like a newly sober person asking "I did WHAT last night?" Yes, no one likes a morning revelation such as that.
It's safe to say that this is my last blog post until mid-August. To all my readers (if any), take care and God bless.
"A lethal overdose of epic"
Like most avid movie goers, I went into the summer with several “must see” titles of my list. Along with about nine million other Americans, I saw “Wall-E” opening weekend. And along with a lesser numerical statistic I saw “Get Smart” a couple weeks ago – which surprisingly turned out to be very good. Looking beyond these humorous and family-oriented titles, I have to take a moment and pay some attention to a movie that I – until a week ago – had no knowledge of its existence. That’s right – I’m talking about “Wanted”. With a hasty spur-of-the-moment decision, my cousin and I were whisked away to a nearby movie theatre last Saturday night to see this amazingly bizarre and over-the-top movie. Two hours later…we exited the building breathing rather heavily and with slightly sweaty underarms.
Where does one begin when reviewing a movie such as this? To put it into an easy-to-understand visual metaphor, watching “Wanted” is like loading a shotgun with the first “Matrix” movie and using it to skeet shoot airborne Molotov cocktails filled with a deadly concoction of gasoline and Quentin Tarantino movies. The end result: pure insanity that is borderline genius. Part of me is hesitant to openly admit I thought “Wanted” was an amazing summer movie because such a statement is bound to raise a few skeptical eyebrows. Yes, this movie wholly deserves the R rating: language, violence, blood and gore, sexuality, language again, and some more violence just to top it off. There really isn’t anything in this movie that “Plugged-In” can say provides wholesome movie material to the viewer – and by “wholesome” I mean worthy of a non-secular audience. I think the producers of “Wanted” purposefully wanted to release the movie the same week as “Wall-E” so that overly masculine fathers could slip away while the rest of the family went on a cosmic journey with an adorable little robot (Waaaaaaall-E).
Regardless of that, “Wanted” just about breaks every traditional boundary of the standard action flick. While slowing down flying bullets to produce that sweet “He’s the One…” experience is still eye-catching today, the reality of the matter is Neo and Morpheus have been around for a while. There’s really no move they can pull that we haven’t already gawked at before. However, “Wanted” decides to up the ante: you get an overhaul of “bullet-time” with several interesting “newer” camera angles – not to mention a few reversed sequences that allow you to see the bullet’s trajectory after the unfortunate character has been shot (as if we need another example of “Wanted” absurdness). The insanity continues until a climactic finale in which the main protagonist, Wesley, racks up a killcount that nears the population of Rhode Island. All the while, my cousin and I were struggling to not yell out our favorite FPS Doug one-liners (linkage at the bottom; view with caution?).
OK -- time to wrap this up. "Wanted" gets a fairly awesome score in my book. I think giving it 3/4 stars is generous while not being too stingy. If there's one thing "Wanted" fails at doing well it would have to be the plot. There's that clichéd "You killed my father, prepare to die!" motif sprinkled throughout which doesn't do much for me. To make matters worse, there's a twist at the end that seems very rushed and can be slightly confusing for those who have been spending too much time staring at Angelina Jolie and not enough time piecing together the story. Notice how I've waited until the end of the article to mention Ms. Jolie -- that's because, while she is in fact the movie's box office cover girl, she plays a very secondary role to Morgan Freeman and this "Wesley" character that I'm too lazy to search for on IMDb to find his real name.
Bottom line: "Wanted" deserves your attention if you're a fan of outlandish violence and crude humor. If you're into novelty movies from Tarantino and Rodriquez, you'll most likely walk away satisfied. Otherwise, stay clear from "Wanted" unless you want a lethal overdose of epic.
Non-relevant references:
FPS Doug:
http://www.youtube.com/wat
IMDb:
http://www.imdb.com/
Plugged-In Online:
http://www.pluggedinonline
"Why so serious?"
Seriously. Why are you so serious right now? Oh don't worry -- I'm only "joking" (te-he! get it?).
Wow...that was a very poorly executed verbal pun.
Apparently, Heath Ledger is in the running for this year's "Best Actor" award for his role as the Joker in the movie "The Dark Knight". This gets me thinking. Either someone at the academy is feeling sorry for Ledger -- or the Joker is in fact a badass character worthy of the award. Personally, I hope it's the second choice. I've heard lots of great things so far about the movie and I'm sure It won't disappoint.
I'm predicting some crazy box office statistics after opening weekend.
Wow...that was a very poorly executed verbal pun.
Apparently, Heath Ledger is in the running for this year's "Best Actor" award for his role as the Joker in the movie "The Dark Knight". This gets me thinking. Either someone at the academy is feeling sorry for Ledger -- or the Joker is in fact a badass character worthy of the award. Personally, I hope it's the second choice. I've heard lots of great things so far about the movie and I'm sure It won't disappoint.
I'm predicting some crazy box office statistics after opening weekend.
"I would so rather be in prison."
My feelings exactly.
I guess I need to explain the title before you get scared off by an unexplained "Office" quote. The truth is I have a Dunder Mifflin, Inc motivational quotes calendar above my desk that echoes this blog's title. The speaker is none other than Kevin, the initiative sales representative. His facial expression looking down upon me makes me feel uneasy; however my summer thus far echoes his quote, "I would so rather be in prison".
Hi, my name is Brent and I'm a 20 year old college student living in the United States. This fall I'll be entering my sophomore year -- no longer an inexperienced freshman. Woot. Anyways, I decided to make a blog separate from my Facebook account and MySpace page for the sole reason of getting away from the teen-scene and all the distractions that come with it. I love to write, and that sadly is something no one appears to appreciate on most online social networks.
Let's move a step back -- just for kicks and giggles. Like I alluded to, my summer has been very ho-hum so far. The most significant achievements I've made as of today have all involved my humble clan of warriors in Final Fantasy Tactics A2 (a video game for the Nintendo DS system). That sadly explains a lot about me -- I'm a part-time gamer. I've been a faithful Nintendo loyalist since age 8; however that's a (lengthy) topic for another day. Mario, Zelda, Metroid, and Donkey Kong -- names by which I live by.
I seem to be having a hard time staying on task with my first blog....where was I? Oh yes -- my totally boring summer.
When summer rolls around I'm practically bound to my house 24/7. My 12 year old sister has more social activities on her agenda in a single week than I have in a whole summer. Sleep-overs, movies, pool parties, theme parks -- you name it, the girl's done it. However, while she prances around our suburban playground, I'm here at home uploading videos on Youtube and trying to persuade subscribers in order to give me a short-lived feeling of accomplishment. But be assumed, this isn't the place where I will try to promote my channel over there on the 'Tubes. But you can probably expect to find the URL link somewhere on this page...
I'm calling this blog the Post-it Note Post because I use post-it notes for just about everything -- mainly for ideas that pop into my head. Besides, the name sounds original.
Well, that's all I got. Like many of you, I got places to go and places to see.
I guess I need to explain the title before you get scared off by an unexplained "Office" quote. The truth is I have a Dunder Mifflin, Inc motivational quotes calendar above my desk that echoes this blog's title. The speaker is none other than Kevin, the initiative sales representative. His facial expression looking down upon me makes me feel uneasy; however my summer thus far echoes his quote, "I would so rather be in prison".
Hi, my name is Brent and I'm a 20 year old college student living in the United States. This fall I'll be entering my sophomore year -- no longer an inexperienced freshman. Woot. Anyways, I decided to make a blog separate from my Facebook account and MySpace page for the sole reason of getting away from the teen-scene and all the distractions that come with it. I love to write, and that sadly is something no one appears to appreciate on most online social networks.
Let's move a step back -- just for kicks and giggles. Like I alluded to, my summer has been very ho-hum so far. The most significant achievements I've made as of today have all involved my humble clan of warriors in Final Fantasy Tactics A2 (a video game for the Nintendo DS system). That sadly explains a lot about me -- I'm a part-time gamer. I've been a faithful Nintendo loyalist since age 8; however that's a (lengthy) topic for another day. Mario, Zelda, Metroid, and Donkey Kong -- names by which I live by.
I seem to be having a hard time staying on task with my first blog....where was I? Oh yes -- my totally boring summer.
When summer rolls around I'm practically bound to my house 24/7. My 12 year old sister has more social activities on her agenda in a single week than I have in a whole summer. Sleep-overs, movies, pool parties, theme parks -- you name it, the girl's done it. However, while she prances around our suburban playground, I'm here at home uploading videos on Youtube and trying to persuade subscribers in order to give me a short-lived feeling of accomplishment. But be assumed, this isn't the place where I will try to promote my channel over there on the 'Tubes. But you can probably expect to find the URL link somewhere on this page...
I'm calling this blog the Post-it Note Post because I use post-it notes for just about everything -- mainly for ideas that pop into my head. Besides, the name sounds original.
Well, that's all I got. Like many of you, I got places to go and places to see.
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