Reading is fun.
Reading is great.
Reading is what I'm starting to hate.
Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate. Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate. Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate.
Everybody now!
Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate. Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate. Reading is fun. Reading is great. Reading is what I'm starting to hate.
Reading is fun! Reading is great! Reading is what I'm starting to hate! Reading is fun! Reading is great! Reading is what I'm starting to hate! Reading is fun! Reading is great! Reading is what I'm starting to hate!**
**I don't really hate reading. Yet.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
In an often-told Bible story, God tells an old man named Abraham to kill his only son. In the modern world, this seems cruel, unusual, and obscene, and it wouldn't have seemed any different to Abraham. The old man had spent years obsessing over the fact that he had no children, no legacy. In his world, a man's life meant nothing if he didn't continue his genetic line. When God finally blessed Abraham with a son (after he and his wife had far surpassed natural, child-bearing age), the old man was utterly joyful.
Yet, years later, God tells Abraham to kill this son, to crush this blessing. God sends Abraham on a three-day journey into the mountains, instructing him to offer Isaac as a sacrifice. It should not be ignored that Abraham's trip took three days. Have you ever agonized over a decision? Which car should I buy? Where should I go for my vacation? Does this shirt make me look fat? Even simple decisions can be excruciating. Abraham had to spend THREE DAYS agonizing over whether he should obey his God and KILL HIS OWN SON, or whether he should allow his son to live and disobey his God. After a solitary trek deep into the mountains, Abraham builds an alter to his God, lays his son on it, and raises the knife to slay the boy and render his own life a meaningless, murderous failure.
For Abraham, this wasn't like giving up chocolate for Lent, or losing his Wednesday evening to a Bible study. This was giving up his prized possession, his hopes and dreams, his life. This was committing the most important thing in his life to God's control, even though he knew that God was going to destroy it. Abraham had always felt that his God was good, but this good God had asked him to do something horrible, something unthinkable, something evil. In spite of this, Abraham continued to trust in the goodness of his God.
All of us have our own Isaac. It might not be a son, but it exists. Your Isaac might be your education, your career, your retirement, your family, your health, your self-esteem, your financial security, your whatever. The question is, if you had to give up your Isaac, to render your life a meaningless failure, would you trust in the goodness of your God?
Right now, if things are failing, do you trust in the goodness of your God? If your God isn't acting how you think a God should, do you trust in the goodness of your God? If God hasn't spoken clearly to you, do you trust in the goodness of your God?
Do you trust in the goodness of your God?
Yet, years later, God tells Abraham to kill this son, to crush this blessing. God sends Abraham on a three-day journey into the mountains, instructing him to offer Isaac as a sacrifice. It should not be ignored that Abraham's trip took three days. Have you ever agonized over a decision? Which car should I buy? Where should I go for my vacation? Does this shirt make me look fat? Even simple decisions can be excruciating. Abraham had to spend THREE DAYS agonizing over whether he should obey his God and KILL HIS OWN SON, or whether he should allow his son to live and disobey his God. After a solitary trek deep into the mountains, Abraham builds an alter to his God, lays his son on it, and raises the knife to slay the boy and render his own life a meaningless, murderous failure.
For Abraham, this wasn't like giving up chocolate for Lent, or losing his Wednesday evening to a Bible study. This was giving up his prized possession, his hopes and dreams, his life. This was committing the most important thing in his life to God's control, even though he knew that God was going to destroy it. Abraham had always felt that his God was good, but this good God had asked him to do something horrible, something unthinkable, something evil. In spite of this, Abraham continued to trust in the goodness of his God.
All of us have our own Isaac. It might not be a son, but it exists. Your Isaac might be your education, your career, your retirement, your family, your health, your self-esteem, your financial security, your whatever. The question is, if you had to give up your Isaac, to render your life a meaningless failure, would you trust in the goodness of your God?
Right now, if things are failing, do you trust in the goodness of your God? If your God isn't acting how you think a God should, do you trust in the goodness of your God? If God hasn't spoken clearly to you, do you trust in the goodness of your God?
Do you trust in the goodness of your God?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The first time it happened, I thought it was an accident.
By the way, what the heck?!? I thought that when organisms had major surgery (i.e.., each of our cats had ALL her reproductive organs were removed THIS MORNING), they were supposed to take time to recover, you know, be docile: our mutants came home completely intoxicated with some sort of a stimulant. When the doctor said that they "bounced back" surprisingly quickly, I didn't take him to literally mean that they were doing actual bouncing. Turns out, I misunderstood. Earlier, they took a sealed, foil bag of cat treats from the counter, smuggled it downstairs, and were trying to chew it open when I happened upon their little cabal. Right now they're chewing on my shoes, playing with the garbage in the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure I just heard glass tinkle from the other room. True story.
Send help.
P.S. On a more interesting note, did you know that a cat's skin is colored with the same pattern as its fur? When the vet spayed the cats, he shaved a portion of their abdomens, and, as it turns out, our striped cat also has striped skin (the pattern is much less remarkable with the other two, but the similarity is still definitely there).
And, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get them out of the trash.
Fool me once...strike one. Fool me twice... ... ...strike three.As it turns out, the cat was pulling my apples onto the floor on purpose. I hate bruised apples. They look like poop. Who wants to eat poop? Not me, you can be sure of that. They're in the fridge now; you can rest assured. And by they, I mean the cats. Kidding. For now.
~Michael Scott
By the way, what the heck?!? I thought that when organisms had major surgery (i.e.., each of our cats had ALL her reproductive organs were removed THIS MORNING), they were supposed to take time to recover, you know, be docile: our mutants came home completely intoxicated with some sort of a stimulant. When the doctor said that they "bounced back" surprisingly quickly, I didn't take him to literally mean that they were doing actual bouncing. Turns out, I misunderstood. Earlier, they took a sealed, foil bag of cat treats from the counter, smuggled it downstairs, and were trying to chew it open when I happened upon their little cabal. Right now they're chewing on my shoes, playing with the garbage in the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure I just heard glass tinkle from the other room. True story.
Send help.
P.S. On a more interesting note, did you know that a cat's skin is colored with the same pattern as its fur? When the vet spayed the cats, he shaved a portion of their abdomens, and, as it turns out, our striped cat also has striped skin (the pattern is much less remarkable with the other two, but the similarity is still definitely there).
And, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get them out of the trash.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
This week's psychology lesson: folie a deux.
Other variants of this RARE disorder include: folie a trois, folie a quatre, folie a famille, and folie a plusieurs. Also known as, "shared psychotic disorder", the original name literally means madness for two (or three, or four, or a family, or many), and its primary symptom is a delusion that is shared by 2 or more people who live together. In other words, this disorder is characterized by contagious delusions.
Delusions are tricky. They're defined as firmly-held beliefs that remain present despite significant and compelling evidence to the contrary. Despite what some may argue, the psychological/psychiatric community has decided that commonly-held religious beliefs may NOT be considered delusions. Delusions can be bizarre (a machine in Texas controls my left eyeball and my thoughts) or non-bizarre (my neighbors are stealing my clothes). They are associated with a number of disorders, including schizophrenia, dementia, and substance withdrawal (among others). In the case of Folie a Deux, the delusions are typically not bizarre.
Two examples:
(1) Harriet begins to suspect that someone is stealing her shoes, wearing down the soles, and then giving them back. Her husband, Hank, also comes to believe this and starts hiding his shoes before he goes to bed at night.
(2) Hal believes his food is being poisoned by the government. His brother Hugo stops eating take-out because he starts to believe it too.
Other variants of this RARE disorder include: folie a trois, folie a quatre, folie a famille, and folie a plusieurs. Also known as, "shared psychotic disorder", the original name literally means madness for two (or three, or four, or a family, or many), and its primary symptom is a delusion that is shared by 2 or more people who live together. In other words, this disorder is characterized by contagious delusions.
Delusions are tricky. They're defined as firmly-held beliefs that remain present despite significant and compelling evidence to the contrary. Despite what some may argue, the psychological/psychiatric community has decided that commonly-held religious beliefs may NOT be considered delusions. Delusions can be bizarre (a machine in Texas controls my left eyeball and my thoughts) or non-bizarre (my neighbors are stealing my clothes). They are associated with a number of disorders, including schizophrenia, dementia, and substance withdrawal (among others). In the case of Folie a Deux, the delusions are typically not bizarre.
Two examples:
(1) Harriet begins to suspect that someone is stealing her shoes, wearing down the soles, and then giving them back. Her husband, Hank, also comes to believe this and starts hiding his shoes before he goes to bed at night.
(2) Hal believes his food is being poisoned by the government. His brother Hugo stops eating take-out because he starts to believe it too.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
I'm a Christian, so according to Seinfeld, I'm allowed to poke fun at my own (see: the conversion of dentist Tim Watley to Judiasm solely for the jokes). I also have a father, a father-in-law, and two uncles who are pastors. As if I needed more license to say a pastor joke, I myself have done some preaching. That said...
Have you ever noticed that pastors (none that I know...) tend to say certain words in certain ways? Or that they often artificially manipulate the volume and cadence of their voices, often inserting pauses in abnormal places? Here are two examples.
My question is, does this happen when it's Tuesday (as in, NOT Sunday morning)?
They're usually nice people though. No offense.
Have you ever noticed that pastors (none that I know...) tend to say certain words in certain ways? Or that they often artificially manipulate the volume and cadence of their voices, often inserting pauses in abnormal places? Here are two examples.
(1) "And God said... .... ... you shall have... ... ... POW...ERR!" (not really from the Bible, but I've heard it at church a lot, so it must be true).
(2) "For God so LOVED the world (microphone noise) that he gave his only begotten son (microphone noise) that who...soever believes in him might have eternal... ... ... life (microphone noise)."
My question is, does this happen when it's Tuesday (as in, NOT Sunday morning)?
At the mechanic: "There's...some...thing... ... ... ...wrong with my POW-ERR steering. Can...you...fix it (microphone noise)?
They're usually nice people though. No offense.
Friday, October 19, 2007
As I usually do on Fridays, I spent most of the day reading. I'm pretty sure there isn't anything interesting about that. I looked out the window a few times. Once, there was a squirrel peeping back at me. I say peeping because I was in the bathroom about to get into the shower. I guess I should have closed the blinds.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
It's nobody's birthday today. How depressing. I guess you can send me presents if you wish.
I've decided that being a graduate assistant is a lot like being a sharecropper. You do lots of semi-important work, and they pay you enough so that you can eat rice (and only rice) every day but you can't go out on your own until you do what they say--which takes forever and sometimes is impossible. In other news, I have a lot to do, so I have to go.
Don't forget about the presents.
I've decided that being a graduate assistant is a lot like being a sharecropper. You do lots of semi-important work, and they pay you enough so that you can eat rice (and only rice) every day but you can't go out on your own until you do what they say--which takes forever and sometimes is impossible. In other news, I have a lot to do, so I have to go.
Don't forget about the presents.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Al Gore: architect of the internet, majority-vote-getter in the 2000 race to be leader of the free world, Academy Award winner, and now, Nobel Peace Prize recipient.
Yours truly: spaceman, Santa Claus, and now, sickened wretch.
(Alternative ending: "...and now, Nobel Peace Prize recipient...talk about a slap in the face to Nelson Mandela.")
Yours truly: spaceman, Santa Claus, and now, sickened wretch.
(Alternative ending: "...and now, Nobel Peace Prize recipient...talk about a slap in the face to Nelson Mandela.")
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I was reading the news today and came across the following headline:
"Dog saves family from fire started by cat".
I think that about sums up the history of dog+human and cat+human interactions.
Apparently there really is a reason why dogs are called man's best friend and cats are called man's worst enemy who will try and kill man in man's sleep but will be foiled by man's dog and will run away and shred all the toilet paper off the roll while man is asleep and will jump on the counter seeking to infect man with bacteria from the litter box even though man has repeatedly reminded that the counter is off limits because that's where man likes to keep what man eats but instead cats just keep jumping places where they're not supposed to and pulling down the curtains and damaging the all-important TV antenna and trying to bite man's crotch when man isn't looking (true story) because they think they're so cool but they're not they're killers or they would be if it wasn't for dog but man doesn't have dog because man is in graduate school and travels sometimes and doesn't know what would happen if dog was left to own devices for long periods of time without a yard to poop and play in so man has too many cats who are trying to kill man and may succeed if someone doesn't send help.
The above manic sentence was sponsored by whichever cat shredded a full roll of toilet paper while I was sleeping and keeps putting things into my left shoe.
You know who you are.
"Dog saves family from fire started by cat".
I think that about sums up the history of dog+human and cat+human interactions.
Apparently there really is a reason why dogs are called man's best friend and cats are called man's worst enemy who will try and kill man in man's sleep but will be foiled by man's dog and will run away and shred all the toilet paper off the roll while man is asleep and will jump on the counter seeking to infect man with bacteria from the litter box even though man has repeatedly reminded that the counter is off limits because that's where man likes to keep what man eats but instead cats just keep jumping places where they're not supposed to and pulling down the curtains and damaging the all-important TV antenna and trying to bite man's crotch when man isn't looking (true story) because they think they're so cool but they're not they're killers or they would be if it wasn't for dog but man doesn't have dog because man is in graduate school and travels sometimes and doesn't know what would happen if dog was left to own devices for long periods of time without a yard to poop and play in so man has too many cats who are trying to kill man and may succeed if someone doesn't send help.
The above manic sentence was sponsored by whichever cat shredded a full roll of toilet paper while I was sleeping and keeps putting things into my left shoe.
You know who you are.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
All this hot weather has brought flies to our house. It hasn't exactly reached plague proportions (I've seen about 5), so I'm not here to complain about it quite yet. I just thought you'd like to know that our formerly-wild cat (Mowgli) loves to eat them. Loves it. Today, one of the other cats chased down a fly, jumping acrobatically and using her paws to pluck it out of the air. Just as she was loosening her grip and peering between her paws, Mowgli jumped on her back, stole the fly, and ate it. Mmmm...protein.
Monday, October 08, 2007
The test wave has almost reached the beach. Today I took one portion of my psychopathology test and was pleasantly surprised at its difficulty level (relatively low). The essay portion is Wednesday; I assume it will be significantly harder. Now, I'm off to finish my paper about psychoanalytic theory.
By the way, what's with this weather (188 degrees with 185% humidity on October 8)? I thought this was supposed to be Michigan. Oh, right. This is Michigan.
By the way, what's with this weather (188 degrees with 185% humidity on October 8)? I thought this was supposed to be Michigan. Oh, right. This is Michigan.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
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