Don't stop believing

We were reading a story called "The Most Dangerous Game" when a question came up in my Teacher's Edition I thought I'd ask my seventh hour. The question was, "What role do you think the island will have?"

A girl from behind me and to my left said, "Gayborm."

I said, "What do you say?"

"Nothing," she said dismissively.

"Did you just say 'gay porn'?"

Everyone laughed and through her tears of laughter, she said, "No. Gameboard."

So now in case you hear differently, it was me who brought up gay porn in the classroom.


Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again

As I was importing "Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em" into my iTunes, it struck me that I needed to blog a little ditty about some things.

First, I'm very glad that we asked Hammer kindly to not hurt 'em; who knows what would have happened if we hadn't?

Second, living 375 miles away from my wife was not a great idea. Sure, "it sucks now but it makes sense for what we're doing now," but seriously, not a great way to get closer. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz, but if that were true, no one would live with each other. We'd all just move to our own Indios and hide and write love letters to each other. But we don't.

Third, Two Jehovah's Witnesses came to the door the other day. I had a nice little chat with them and now I'm thinking of converting. Oh wait, coming to my door and telling me I'm wrong about everything DOESN'T change my mind. On that note, my favorite bit of dialogue with them went like this:

Her: So you know the world is getting worse, right? What do you think about that?
Me: I don't think it's getting worse
Her: Well the Bible says it is. Look here at Jesus' words in Matthew blah blah blah where he says, "Nation will rise against nation." What do you think Jesus and his disciples were talking about?
Me: When he thought the world would end.
Her: And don't you think he's talking about now?
Me: No.
Her: Really? You don't?
Me: No. Because people have always been fighting.
Her: But you don't think it's getting worse?
Me: No.
Her: Well, we know reality says differently.

Which made me mad. But what am I going to do? I'm going to hell, according to her, so why would the opinion of one heretic change how reality operates? All that to say, if Random Female Asian Jehovah's Witness is reading, I'm sorry. I don't really care what you had to say, but what can you expect from a heathen. If quiet Female White Companion of Random Female Asian Jehovah's Witness is reading, what were your thoughts on the conversation? How did you think it went? Am I now:
a) Closer to heaven
b) Farther from heaven
c) Still on the fence
d) Future unclear; potential convert used logic entirely different than what they prepared us for in Sunday School.

Please send your remarks as soon as possible to me. My eternity is at stake!

In other news, D and I hiked Garcia Trail today. It was hard.

Well, that's all for now. I already made it through The Wallflowers and am now onto Pearl Jam. Keep up the good work.


one nation controlled by the media

It's time to write. I've been working for just over three weeks in the classroom and am happy to report nothing bad has happened. Kicked out a couple of kids, given a few detentions, and faithfully covered some curriculum too.

I wonder if teaching high school freshman will make me stupid. I was fascinated by the Mother Theresa article in Time recently where her letters to her confessor were published. She admits to more than 50 years wondering if God was distant from her. It got me really excited about reading and writing about religion and I wonder how long it will take that spark to grow into a fire. Oh wait, every spark of friendship and love will die without a home. Meh.

I don't have much else going on in my life. I still find the idea of God interesting but have also felt a certain emptiness that is interesting as well. Death no longer scares me. Maybe it's a phase, but lying in bed listening to my heartbeat wondering if it will stop is now a game, not a fear.

I want to write something substantial. I have no idea what that would be. I want to submit my words to a process that might end up with their destruction although at this point I'm not sure if I want to put the work into it. That's what an underachiever gets: nothing.

Who here among us still believes in choice? Not I.