WRITING ASSIGNMENT TIME!

Ok. This is my assignment from a week ago, I think...anywho. I've piled up enough of them that I can probably occasionally insert one in here to make up for my horrendous ineptitude to keep up with things. Or whatever.


The Choosing of the King (UNEDITED)

It was a hot day, like so many others, in Israel, and David was watching his sheep, as was his duty. The sun shone down on the slightly brown-colored grass, and, occasionally, sparkled off one of the few remaining dewdrops hanging, nearly motionless, from the tips of greener blades of grass. One might wonder if the dew had made the grass greener, or if the greener grass better attracted dew.
David scanned the surrounding countryside, shielding his eyes when he turned to the east. Nothing. These days were rather boring. Still, it was his duty, and he had much of the day left. He took a look at his sheep. In truth, credibility couldn't be lent to any claim that sheep are decidedly and necessarily cute, for his seldom seemed to show any emotion at all. The methodical, extremely boring jaw movements of a cow could be compared fairly to the movements the sheep made. On the other hand, cows do have something distinctly more boring than sheep.
Far away, a man called Samuel was sleeping in his rather primitive cot, sucking his thumb and snoring in a way that couldn't accurately be described as either softly or deeply. In truth, it was more of both. It was deep and rumbling, but also almost mute. Just in time to stop me from describing it, a voice called out, somewhat quietly, "Samuel!"
Samuel's reaction to this wasn't an entirely surprised one. He whipped his thumb out of his mouth, managing somehow not to wet the whole room, and sat up with almost ridiculous speed. He immediately began attempting to yawn in a convincing way, in order to replace the reality of surprise on his face with something less revealing and embarrassing.
"Yes, Lord?" he queried, still stretching, yawning at an annoying rate, and doing generally waking up type things.
"Fill your horn with oil, and go on down to Jesse the Bethlehemite's, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons."
"How am I to go?" Samuel queried, not particularly inclined to do this task anyway, let alone in a time your head would be in imminent danger of abandoning the rest of your body without notice while in Saul's vicinity. By this time, Samuel had managed to get over the fact that he had nearly been scared out of two and a half of the three dimensions when God spoke to him first that day.
"Take a heifer with you and say, 'I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.' And invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do. And you shall anoint for me who I shall declare to you."
It was somewhat later when Samuel was going about sacrificing the heifer when Jesse and his sons came along. Samuel consecrated them all, and they joined him.
Well into the afternoon, Samuel looked at Eliab, and thought, "Hah! This guy's got to be the one."
God said, however, "Nope, Samuel, I'm not really looking for the tallest or strongest man among his sons."
Ten more of Jesse's sons went past Samuel without avail. By this time, Samuel had become slightly bored. This wasn't entirely abnormal. He figured that there had to be at least one or two things about him that the Lord was trying to fix up in putting him through eleven sons.
Suddenly, he noticed that there weren't any more. This mildly troubled him. Usually, God accomplished his purpose when he sent Samuel around.
"Have you no other sons, Jesse," Samuel said, looking genuinely puzzled and scanning the surroundings a bit, just to make sure he wasn't missing anyone.
"Well, there's David, but he's out keeping the sheep."
"Go get him, for I will not sit down until he is here," Samuel said, trying to assume the rigid, decided expression that his words ought to have been accompanied by.
Jesse came back, eventually, leading David behind him. Samuel thought, for a second, how well-formed his features were, his face and eyes admirable to a mildly spectacular degree.
"Arise, anoint him, for this is he," the Lord said. Samuel anointed him, hoping he wouldn't be killed too soon for this.
And, in truth, the Spirit of the Lord came into David in following days. He couldn't exactly grab the crown form Saul and shove him off the throne. It'd mean war, eventually. For now, David would have to go under cover, waiting until the Lord should choose a time for him to finally take over from Saul, and lead Israel as the Lord commanded. Samuel never did get over that thumb-sucking problem, though.

Harhar.

!Noah!

CSAM? Favicon? What the Spork Does That Mean?

Yeah, yeah. The whole favicon terminology thing didn't really, uh, happify me at all either. Weird. Anywho. Yeah. I've made myself a tiny little icon thingy that, so far, has only annoyed me. I really liked the freaky-looking B icon thingy better anyway. Maybe I should polish it or something.

Thoughts? Insults? Philosophical treatises? Advice? Meaningless statements? Post 'em all. Hopefully pertaining to the icon. Otherwise, find some aspect of my blog to criticize or something. I can always use stuff like that.

Failingly,

!Noah!

Because I've Said I'm a Photographer of Sorts...

I decided to give you the best examples I have of my photography...I think I'll start with the most ancient.

I'd like it to be known that I've got significantly more pictures than I'll EVER post here. Most likely, those I really like are probably a minute fraction of all of them. (I may have taken as many as twenty thousand photos since I got my Canon SD1000, which was in mid-2008, I think.)

Bleeding Heart

This picture, though grainy, comparatively tiny, and, to my photographing eye of today, rather distasteful, won me fifty dollars in a kids' photography contest. Nikon Coolpix 2300. (To put this in perspective, this is the highest resolution that this camera could do. Mine can do more than twice the dimensions...even greater shock? The Coolpix could do video...but no audio. That ticked me off.)

Columbine

This picture has graced Mommy's laptop for years. It is not mine to say whether that's because she didn't have the time to, didn't care, or liked it so much. Same camera.

This encompassed merely the earliest best attempts I made at photography...from this point on, chronology will shatter.

A picture of a leaf I actually still have now...I was bored, after Government class, or something, and started taking pictures of stuff. That's the best way to do things...I managed to get a nice shadow from the early sunlight, which gave a slight, yet nice effect. (This, and pictures following, except when mentioned, were taken with Sparks, my new(er) Canon Powershot SD780.)

A leaf. Not particularly beautiful, but it's nicely focused.

The cap of a manhole, also after Government class (if I was right the first time). I really like the color of rust in pictures like this...the shadows also give it a cool quality.

Not quite as green as I'd like it, even after Picasa's "Feeling Lucky?" function. Still, it brought out some reds that weren't so obvious before. Almost looks like Christmas. (I've done this function on a majority of these pictures...only a few not, in fact.)

Another leaf following some class.

Another leaf, this time, though, probably within twenty feet of our house. (pretty sure about that, anyway) One of my best dewy pictures.

Gah. I wish I could tell you what all these are, but I can't. Another leaf, mainly on here because of the good focus. (Actually, that's probably one of the greatest reasons you'd see a picture in this bunch...that's probably one of the qualities I value most in pictures, except when you're I'm trying to make it blurry. )

That leaf again. Aside from "I'm Feeling Lucky," this picture is entirely unedited. (I thought this might be unclear...the tip of the leaf looks distinctly unnatural.)

Dew on a leaf. Not sure what the plant is. I'll bet Gabriel will be quite willing to oblige, if you want to know.

More dew on a different leaf. This one's of a quality I seldom achieve, and I really like it. Kind of a dark background with a decidedly light subject.

A flower...taken, again, after a class.

I'm mildly surprised how sharp this picture is. You can actually see reflections on the right of the droplet. Amazing.

Dew by the dozen. One of my best, when it comes to dew and focus.

Not sure if this one's fantastically focused, but it's one of my favorite flowers, though it be milkweed.

Another great dew picture. *loves it*

Another leaf. Kinda different. Again, I really like how focused it is.

Nice reflections and foreground/background blur.

A flower...this is one of my best pictures of flowers that I know of.

Next to dew on grass is, obviously, frost on grass. Not sure if it's better or slightly worse, but it's close.

Again, different view.

Bark of a tree. One of the angles/compositions I've done more often.

A leaf with the sun showing through...

More frost, this time on a leaf.

Another of my better flower photos.

Another fantastic photo of a leaf, I think...

Grass thingy. Epic.

Not sure where this was taken...

(This one I think I may have done "I'm Feeling Lucky" twice on...not bad, if you want that look, but not exactly what I wanted here...)

Yahoo, something disgusting, finally!

Another flower...I think I haven't done "I'm Feeling Lucky" on it...

Again, these are only pictures from, say, the last two months. I have WAY more to show. Enjoy!

*EDIT* Hah, yeah. I guess Sparks is the only camera I used for that last bunch.

!Noah!

Old Stuff

Ok. I've been rifling through a bunch of my old drawings/writings/incomprehensible scribbles. I just decided to post a few of the things I found...

What's long division, again?

For some reason, I want to make it clear, no, I did not write this poem. No idea why, though.

However, this poem I DID write. It's probably from less than two years ago. If I thought really hard and looked at surrounding writings/drawings, I'd probably conclude it was within a year from now. Anywho...

There Is A Writer

There is a writer, who is so great
that there's not a thing his pen not touched
There's not a valley, hill nor mount
which his great ink hasn't wet

His long pen, wet with ink
reached beyond our flesh and bones,
Reached so far, t'was but a wonder
when he stopped to observe our woe

When he looked, he looked with pity, love and grace
on we, but rebellious, worthless waste
And he, on paper so blotched with ill,
penned a turn in his great tale

This turn, this change, in his great yarn
is


HAH! *merciless cackle*

Yeah, I don't have any more, actually.

This is just about the only poem I've written to any long extent, except for that awful bunch of woes.

*EDIT* CLARIFICATION! I did not WRITE the former poem, I PENNED it. Almost assuredly. *grins, imagining how happy he must have been...*

*EDIT2!* A few errors cleared up in the text, and the bit in the poem written. Hopefully I'll get down to writing the rest eventually...

!Noah!

DE SALSA ALIVE AGAIN, BERTILSON ANGERED AT DEVILISH INSINUATIONS!!

From Drop Box

It was with bated breath that we watched Mr. Bertilson power on Quivie de Salsa earlier yesterday.

"It took many tries, and a lot of work, to return her to her former state! It's so nice knowing I've got a constant companion and helper in my pocket at all times again!" said Mr. Bertilson, looking more wildly elated than we'd ever seen him.

"It's just amazing! She's back!" he said, in a mildly awed tone, looking lovingly into her 220 by 176 pixel screen, "however," he said, in a somewhat less effusive tone, "she's asked me not to comment on our campaign, as to whether it will continue or not, separated or not."

"On that subject," he said, assuming an expression whose authenticity we couldn't verify or deny, "it seems to have been the aim of supporters of other campaigns to destroy my reputation by means of saying that this now happy story was merely used by me for some political gain, either before, or after her recovery. I have no comment for these incredibly insidious actions."

Mr. Bertilson showed us several features added by the fantastic software, Rockbox. He seemed to think buttered bread was nothing by comparison. After a while, we agreed, having stuffed ourselves a little too much on it. The stuff couldn't possibly be better than epic firmware for an outdated MP3 player.

Our hearts lifted, we returned to HQ, happy to know that a friend of Mr. Bertilson's might stay that way for a long time.


!Noah!

It's Amazing!

Nah, this doesn't have anything to do with anything. I just decided to post about my beliefs mainly considering modern-day out-and-out miracles. By this, specifically, I mean something happening that absolutely has no possible physical explanation whatsoever, and that is obvious enough for one to firmly come to such a conclusion.

Quite simply, I don't believe they happen. To be more clear, I believe they did happen, and could happen. I just believe God isn't working that way these days. I believe he's entirely capable, and could raise someone from the dead at any time if he wanted to. I just believe he doesn't, as relates to this specific definition, do anything of the sort that we hear of. Why did I ad those four last four words? I believe it's much more likely for God to do something so obviously supernatural when there's no chance any large body of people will ever hear of it than on television in front of several million viewers and attendees. This is a majorly flimsy belief, and you can probably count on defeating it, in my mind, without a whole lot of effort.

All that rot said, I believe God can and does work in ways supernatural, here and now, except, basically, without us seeing. For instance, I believe God could heal someone of their cancer, if he so planned, but we wouldn't be able to rule out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it didn't happen in a more natural way.

Again, I believe with all my heart in the virgin birth, the resurrection, etc, etc, etc. I really believe all those things really did happen. I do not believe just about any account you could come up with these days, that claims that someone was healed, in front of millions, of a serious physical ailment. I believe that God does heal serious ailments all the time, but in ways that it takes faith to actually believe that they happened.

One way of reasoning this is that Christianity is a religion that requires faith. Proving that something miraculous happened entirely eliminates one necessity for those who wish to be saved. As our Lord said, "...but blessed are those who do not see, and do not hear, yet believe." (wickedly mangled paraphrase) We are those who do not see, and cannot hear. We are those called to believe even though we can't see Jesus rise from the dead. We're those who have to believe that someone vaguely familiar to us was healed by God in a way that wouldn't otherwise happen.

That said, there's also the argument that, quite simply, everything is supernatural. Without God, the universe wouldn't merely fall apart, or explode, it would merely cease to exist. In fact, theoretically, it couldn't even do that. It'd just kinda not be there. Annnyyyyway.

Basically, everything, from the least miraculous event you can imagine, to the Resurrection, is necessarily and intrinsically miraculous, not only because, without God, nothing would exist, but because this world is necessarily and universally sinful. God not only continues to guide the universe, and all those in it, through the troublesome trial of life, but he loves us. He loves the greatest sinner among us to the most innocent you could imagine, as long as they find their first and greatest love in him.

That's another thing. Selecting out from the everyday miracles those that seem truly miraculous to us is actually degrading God's greatest miracle. He loves us! No, I haven't said that enough, and I've only said it twice.

To say being healed of the greatest ailment humanity has ever seen (even if I was forced to believe it is happening here and now!) is a miracle, and forgetting, somehow, that God lets us live on, let alone loves us...that is a path of cruelty those in the New Testament only barely walked down.

In the end, elevating modern-day miracles like they have been is no less than this. A greater miracle by far is the miracle of God's love. Nothing in time, nothing that does not last, is as great as this.

To be healed of, for instance, rabies, or your sins forgiven...which is greater?
It may be obvious to Christians, but, in the end, who would actually choose the former over the latter?

Ok, I'll quit asking you questions and making incredibly superlative statements and let you start yelling at me about whatever.

*bright smile*


!Noah!

DE SALSA DECAPITATED, BERTILSON ASSUMES PROVISIONAL CONTROL OF CAMPAGIN

It was yesterday, we learned, that Mr. Bertilson attempted to turn on Quivie de Salsa, and was greeted by a blank, unchanging blue glow from her well-worn scroll wheel. Mr. Bertilson offered explanation.

"It was really a shock yesterday when she didn't properly start up. She had been acting slightly strange for a while, her buttons being well-battered by my rather uncaring hands, but I hoped, if not expected, her to last longer. It's a lot like when you're in a war, and you can't figure out how someone you lost was lost. It just doesn't make sense."

A sad story, we could all admit. Mr. Bertilson's MP3 player was given to him less than a year ago.

"Which is very sad, I have to admit. My camera's predecessor lasted more than a year. Quivie was a tough thing. I'd dropped her a bit and I haven't been exactly tender on her buttons and scroll wheel. It doesn't make sense that she'd just whack out like this at such a crucial time."

Mr. Bertilson looked farther sad, but soon brightened up.

"On the bright side, I might choose a different running mate, and thereby might enjoy slightly more support. I'm sure she'd want me to."

Mr. Bertilson was nodding in a intrinsically sage way for the next several seconds, in which he ushered us kindly to the door.

De Salsa dead? We hoped not. Her character might not have been a well-known one, but we knew how Mr. Bertilson loved her.


!Noah!