November 27, 2011
Silverware
Once there was a man who made silverware. For no obvious reason, though, he chose to create his silverware such that they appeared to be spoons and yet were forks. Many were outraged that when they went to eat spaghetti they would find the noodles slipping from their grasp, and when eating soup find that the soup would merely pass through their spoon. People asked him again and again why he did this, but never did the man give a reason.
The man continued throughout his life to create his wares thus, and continued over time to become less and less respected and wealthy. Eventually, he found that his business could no longer support itself, and so closed up shop.
The spoon is a multi-million year old rock.
The fork is a multi-thousand year old rock.
The man is God.
!Noah!
November 02, 2011
The Ant and the Eagle
A long time ago, after caterpillars had learned to fly but before dandelions took to the skies, there lived an ant in an anthill a long way from the front steps in a crack in the sidewalk. This ant wanted to fly. He spent his days watching the sparrows, bees, butterflies, and eagles in the skies, wishing he, too, could feel the wind in his...well, generally assaulting his person.
One day, he found the sparrow rummaging nearby and went up to him.
“Sparrow, friend, I have seen you fly above the treetops with such ease! How do you coax the wind to hold you aloft?” he queried politely.
The sparrow was hungry and not in a mood to talk, so he pecked at the ant and made to eat him. The ant bolted away quickly and, with panic enough for one day, went to bed to sleep.
The ant woke the next day with one dream in his mind still, to fly! He thought today to ask the kindly butterfly, who wouldn’t eat other things alive. Without delay he climbed a blooming daisy and scanned the skies for the butterfly. No sooner had he looked when the butterfly landed nearby, and spoke to him.
“Good morning, ant! The flowers are beautiful today!” she said happily. The butterfly was usually cheery.
“Good morning, butterfly. The flowers are beautiful indeed, but I only wish to see the sky up close!”
The butterfly nodded sadly. “The sky is beautiful as well. I would carry you there, but my wings are new, and even carrying my own weight aloft is difficult. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor!”
The ant left the butterfly sadly, and returned to his hill once more. The night passed and he slept not, wishing only to go to see the sky
Finally, as the sun’s rays found their way to his hill and the sounds of the morning began, the ant once more ventured forth to find a way to go above the trees.
A heart-wrenching screech went out over the tops of the trees and a rush of wind signaled the arrival of the eagle. The ant scrambled wildly and called to the eagle repeatedly, hoping not to lose this opportunity. To his relief, the eagle came soaring down to him, nearly blowing him half a foot away. The eagle was huge compared to either the sparrow and the butterfly, and much more majestic. Thus the ant addressed him with respect.
“O kindly eagle, I have spent my life wishing to fly and to take to the air, but I have no wings, and the sparrow was unwilling, and the butterfly unable to take me aloft. Would you in your generosity use your great wings to show me the wonder of flight?”
The eagle looked at him and nodded.
He lowered his head and the ant climbed on.
The wind instantly rushed over the ant’s body like a tsunami, shooting through his legs and going on. The ant unfortunately didn’t have eyelids, and thus couldn’t have them fly back and expose his eyeball. Regardless, the ant and the eagle flew that day for a long time, and when the ant became tired, the eagle set him down right next to his hill.
The ant and the eagle became good friends over time, and the ant learned many things from the eagle.
Never trust a sparrow.
One day, he found the sparrow rummaging nearby and went up to him.
“Sparrow, friend, I have seen you fly above the treetops with such ease! How do you coax the wind to hold you aloft?” he queried politely.
The sparrow was hungry and not in a mood to talk, so he pecked at the ant and made to eat him. The ant bolted away quickly and, with panic enough for one day, went to bed to sleep.
The ant woke the next day with one dream in his mind still, to fly! He thought today to ask the kindly butterfly, who wouldn’t eat other things alive. Without delay he climbed a blooming daisy and scanned the skies for the butterfly. No sooner had he looked when the butterfly landed nearby, and spoke to him.
“Good morning, ant! The flowers are beautiful today!” she said happily. The butterfly was usually cheery.
“Good morning, butterfly. The flowers are beautiful indeed, but I only wish to see the sky up close!”
The butterfly nodded sadly. “The sky is beautiful as well. I would carry you there, but my wings are new, and even carrying my own weight aloft is difficult. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor!”
The ant left the butterfly sadly, and returned to his hill once more. The night passed and he slept not, wishing only to go to see the sky
Finally, as the sun’s rays found their way to his hill and the sounds of the morning began, the ant once more ventured forth to find a way to go above the trees.
A heart-wrenching screech went out over the tops of the trees and a rush of wind signaled the arrival of the eagle. The ant scrambled wildly and called to the eagle repeatedly, hoping not to lose this opportunity. To his relief, the eagle came soaring down to him, nearly blowing him half a foot away. The eagle was huge compared to either the sparrow and the butterfly, and much more majestic. Thus the ant addressed him with respect.
“O kindly eagle, I have spent my life wishing to fly and to take to the air, but I have no wings, and the sparrow was unwilling, and the butterfly unable to take me aloft. Would you in your generosity use your great wings to show me the wonder of flight?”
The eagle looked at him and nodded.
He lowered his head and the ant climbed on.
The wind instantly rushed over the ant’s body like a tsunami, shooting through his legs and going on. The ant unfortunately didn’t have eyelids, and thus couldn’t have them fly back and expose his eyeball. Regardless, the ant and the eagle flew that day for a long time, and when the ant became tired, the eagle set him down right next to his hill.
The ant and the eagle became good friends over time, and the ant learned many things from the eagle.
Never trust a sparrow.
The End
!Noah!
October 02, 2011
For Some Odd Reason (pt. 10)
Ratchet hadn't much liked the idea of disembodiment much before in her life, and it didn't seem awfully pleasant even now. Being that the wind was currently assaulting her from all sides, disembodiment seemed not a bad word to describe her current situation. Ratchet was also getting tired. She's kinda lost track of time, so she couldn't have known she'd been awake for a straight week, but her body was catching up with the fact, and she fell asleep. She also fell speedily toward the ground.
Ratchet woke up again in a hospital bed, and blinked five times. The room was empty and dark. She found she couldn't remember why she was in the hospital. On the whiteboard across from her was written a name:
Dr. Cook.
It seemed odd until she looked at her hand. In all honesty, she actually looked a couple inches above her wrist. There wasn't much hand there to be seen. Peculiar.
And then it all came together. Literally and figuratively. Her hand reassembled from gaseous elements, and she decided to be a superhero. She left her bed and jumped out the window.
The rest is history. Or, rather, unwritten fiction. But still a history of sorts.
!Noah!
Ratchet woke up again in a hospital bed, and blinked five times. The room was empty and dark. She found she couldn't remember why she was in the hospital. On the whiteboard across from her was written a name:
Dr. Cook.
It seemed odd until she looked at her hand. In all honesty, she actually looked a couple inches above her wrist. There wasn't much hand there to be seen. Peculiar.
And then it all came together. Literally and figuratively. Her hand reassembled from gaseous elements, and she decided to be a superhero. She left her bed and jumped out the window.
The rest is history. Or, rather, unwritten fiction. But still a history of sorts.
!Noah!
September 22, 2011
Don't Copy this Post
Seriously. Don't even think about it.
People, let's start with something simple. Copy and past a link to something awwesssommmeee. This isn't so bad. Hey, I do it a lot, even. Linking to a Youtube video is second. It's more annoying 'cause you can't be sure it's not interesting until you've seen the first few seconds of it.
But forwarding emails, copying and pasting posts or statii on Facebook.
Please. Please, listen to these simple tips.
One: we're in the information age. That means you have gazillions of images, articles, games, blogging sites, video upload sites, oh, and photo upload sites. Soooo many.
Lots.
So I ask you...with all this information at your fingertips, seconds away from your eyes, why, in the name of Q-tips and apple pie, would you copy and paste almost anything? Hey, I may be a radical who practically forwards/copy/pastes anything, but really. It took me less than five seconds to make sure a story wasn't true. There's Urban Legends, there's Snopes. For heaven's sake, there's Google. Things like these go around, and people ask about things like these. Thus, there's information on things like these on the internet. A couple clicks and a dozen or so keypresses away.
Two: Use common sense. I perhaps use this to an excessive degree, where I won't even forward the awe-inspiring or tear-jerking emails to friends or family...but that's not the point. There are very, very few times when your forwarding something or reposting something or copying a status will actually have a meaningful effect on someone's life. And guess what? If you spend ten minutes researching someone who's actually legitimately in need, or, heck, volunteering at a soup kitchen, or even visiting the bed-ridden...
Well, just ask yourself this: which is most self-sacrificial? Which shows most you care to the person in need?
Granted, there are times when forwards aren't the worst possible thing in the world. Occasionally, they're funny, cute, gut-wrenching, or something. Moderately tolerable. Sometimes these forward/repost/status things aren't completely bogus. That's where you really need your common sense.
My apologies if this wasn't helpful and was just annoying.
I get ticked off by this stuff easily.
To cheer you up from that rant:
youtube.com/watch?v=KCSA7kKNu2Y
!Noah!
People, let's start with something simple. Copy and past a link to something awwesssommmeee. This isn't so bad. Hey, I do it a lot, even. Linking to a Youtube video is second. It's more annoying 'cause you can't be sure it's not interesting until you've seen the first few seconds of it.
But forwarding emails, copying and pasting posts or statii on Facebook.
Please. Please, listen to these simple tips.
One: we're in the information age. That means you have gazillions of images, articles, games, blogging sites, video upload sites, oh, and photo upload sites. Soooo many.
Lots.
So I ask you...with all this information at your fingertips, seconds away from your eyes, why, in the name of Q-tips and apple pie, would you copy and paste almost anything? Hey, I may be a radical who practically forwards/copy/pastes anything, but really. It took me less than five seconds to make sure a story wasn't true. There's Urban Legends, there's Snopes. For heaven's sake, there's Google. Things like these go around, and people ask about things like these. Thus, there's information on things like these on the internet. A couple clicks and a dozen or so keypresses away.
Two: Use common sense. I perhaps use this to an excessive degree, where I won't even forward the awe-inspiring or tear-jerking emails to friends or family...but that's not the point. There are very, very few times when your forwarding something or reposting something or copying a status will actually have a meaningful effect on someone's life. And guess what? If you spend ten minutes researching someone who's actually legitimately in need, or, heck, volunteering at a soup kitchen, or even visiting the bed-ridden...
Well, just ask yourself this: which is most self-sacrificial? Which shows most you care to the person in need?
Granted, there are times when forwards aren't the worst possible thing in the world. Occasionally, they're funny, cute, gut-wrenching, or something. Moderately tolerable. Sometimes these forward/repost/status things aren't completely bogus. That's where you really need your common sense.
My apologies if this wasn't helpful and was just annoying.
I get ticked off by this stuff easily.
To cheer you up from that rant:
youtube.com/watch?v=KCSA7kKNu2Y
!Noah!
September 11, 2011
Eight in the Kitchen at Eight
Ten years ago, I woke up and came downstairs to the kitchen. I can't remember the exact time, and I can't remember exactly when the towers were attacked, but I remember Daddy telling Mommy something and her being significantly taken aback. I understand better today what he'd told her about, but I remember the feeling then of rather infantile, formless horror.
"After seeing just one video concerning eight years ago's events, I have little to say. On September eleventh, men raised their fists at America, and struck down more than three thousand of us. It is our duty to remember this, tell it to our children, and inspire the, "quiet, unyielding anger" that Mr. Bush spoke of on that dreadful day. Forgetting that terrible day, and what it implies for our future, is akin in magnitude to forgetting the knowledge, but mostly wisdom, that centuries before wrote in books, spoke to crowds, and thought with conviction.
We must never forget September the eleventh. Then, we were brutally and mercilessly assaulted by men who hate America solely for the immense and wonderful liberty that Americans have, share, and allow, to anyone who enters our country legally. Imagine a world where we forgot that there used to be two gargantuan, near identical towers on Manhattan Island. Forgetting any part of our past is to flout the wisdom and knowledge of those before us, and endanger those who will proceed us. The stuff of the past is more valuable than ten thousand times ten million times all our nation's wealth. Few or no other mediums can teach us as much, admonish us as aptly, or commend us as correctly. Few of those before us would wish themselves forgotten, if not because they were wise and knowledgeable, then because they were proud. Our past, if studied, ensures our future security.
The importance of the present and future are second only to the past."
I can't say I'm as eloquent as I was then at this particular moment, but I couldn't really say much more or say it much better than I did then. We have enemies who are strong, strong enough to strike out in cowardly and despicable manners. Moreover, we cannot expect Al-Qaeda and Saddam and bin Laden to be the only haters of our great country. Without a doubt, more will rise up and attempt to take freedom from us--even within our borders. Fear is not the answer. Not even close. We're in a battle for the survival of not our country, but the liberty that our country provides. The solution is to spread said freedom, to protect it, to teach our children how blessed they are to have it.
The terrorists would have us stripped of our liberties, so our duty is to come together and pull against them in this great tug of war. Our country and our liberty are at stake. This is no less true today than it was ten years ago.
Remember, remember, the eleventh of September.
!Noah!
September 07, 2011
Easy A
Yeah.
I guess I won't comment on why I watched it, but I felt like it was worth writing about in some length or another.
Anywho. If you want to watch this movie, don't read this. Yet.
I don't know why, but I liked this movie. Not a ton, but I did. The humor was alright, (some) of the characters good, and the whole confession thing gets me every time.
If you don't know, for some reason, Easy A is about a girl in highschool who ends up, by a series of decisions and circumstances, thought of by her school as a slut. This came about because she pretended to sleep with this one guy because he wanted to be relieved of the troubles that are being gay. One thing led to another, and she'd "slept" with the whole school, if hyperbole is fine with you.
I think why I liked the movie wasn't because of the sex (little or none of it though there was) or the talk thereof, but rather because of the effects her lies had on her life.
Gah, it sounds really unpleasantly typical that way. I guess I found myself thinking, "This really could happen!"
Or so I think. It seemed believable. I still think it is. But the point is it was real. Actions had consequences. She originally thought having sex wouldn't be fine, but pretending to would be, but in the end, it seemed like she just might have seen that lies have their own consequences.
I don't write about movies often, and even less so because they really got to me in some way. I guess I'm sort of a truth freak. An honest guy. Granted, I don't tell the truth all the time, and I quite frequently lie instead. I'm not perfect, nor close to it.
But I appreciate the difficulty and weight of honesty. Lies are easy.
I think it would be stupid to say this movie amounted to a moral about lies and their consequences. There's more to it than that. A bit of humor, of course. Heck, it's a story! And the way it's told is a way I like, I think.
You know. Author inserts comment here, author issues warning there, author denies liability for injuries sustained while perusing this book.
Stuff like that.
They/she didn't do it as well as me, granted, but it was nice nonetheless.
Aah, the Christians.
I was honestly alright with what they did with us. Sure, they made nutjobs and oddballs and bossy girls the bringers of Good News, but they didn't do much more than that. For a second I thought she'd even go the whole hog and actually understand some words from the Bible, but no such luck. Pretty dang close.
I think it was true. For me, that's all there needs to be in a story. It might not be good because of it, it might not be beautiful because of it, but truth I do adore.
I'm not going to rate it. If you're above the age of seventeen, I'll recommend it, but mildly. The worth of the movie separate from the message is probably minimal.
The movie has minimal violence, little nudity, no sex but a good few minutes pretending, and plenty of language.
!Noah!
I guess I won't comment on why I watched it, but I felt like it was worth writing about in some length or another.
Anywho. If you want to watch this movie, don't read this. Yet.
I don't know why, but I liked this movie. Not a ton, but I did. The humor was alright, (some) of the characters good, and the whole confession thing gets me every time.
If you don't know, for some reason, Easy A is about a girl in highschool who ends up, by a series of decisions and circumstances, thought of by her school as a slut. This came about because she pretended to sleep with this one guy because he wanted to be relieved of the troubles that are being gay. One thing led to another, and she'd "slept" with the whole school, if hyperbole is fine with you.
I think why I liked the movie wasn't because of the sex (little or none of it though there was) or the talk thereof, but rather because of the effects her lies had on her life.
Gah, it sounds really unpleasantly typical that way. I guess I found myself thinking, "This really could happen!"
Or so I think. It seemed believable. I still think it is. But the point is it was real. Actions had consequences. She originally thought having sex wouldn't be fine, but pretending to would be, but in the end, it seemed like she just might have seen that lies have their own consequences.
I don't write about movies often, and even less so because they really got to me in some way. I guess I'm sort of a truth freak. An honest guy. Granted, I don't tell the truth all the time, and I quite frequently lie instead. I'm not perfect, nor close to it.
But I appreciate the difficulty and weight of honesty. Lies are easy.
I think it would be stupid to say this movie amounted to a moral about lies and their consequences. There's more to it than that. A bit of humor, of course. Heck, it's a story! And the way it's told is a way I like, I think.
You know. Author inserts comment here, author issues warning there, author denies liability for injuries sustained while perusing this book.
Stuff like that.
They/she didn't do it as well as me, granted, but it was nice nonetheless.
Aah, the Christians.
I was honestly alright with what they did with us. Sure, they made nutjobs and oddballs and bossy girls the bringers of Good News, but they didn't do much more than that. For a second I thought she'd even go the whole hog and actually understand some words from the Bible, but no such luck. Pretty dang close.
I think it was true. For me, that's all there needs to be in a story. It might not be good because of it, it might not be beautiful because of it, but truth I do adore.
I'm not going to rate it. If you're above the age of seventeen, I'll recommend it, but mildly. The worth of the movie separate from the message is probably minimal.
The movie has minimal violence, little nudity, no sex but a good few minutes pretending, and plenty of language.
!Noah!
September 01, 2011
'Cause I'm Feeling Writy
At this point, I feel like I just wasted my money on that awesome Bluetooth keyboard and mouse and accompanying USB dongle.
Why?
I'm too happy for that sort of stuff to matter. Sigh. It'll probably be over tomorrow, I'll probably forget what the heck I was happy about...dang, I don't even know now, really...well, there is Windy. I don't think I've ever fallen in love with a fictional figment of some fictional character's fictional imagination before.
It's new.
It's unorthodox!
It involves little self control and a lot of dreamyweamy!
I want to dance. I think I've come to the point where I'd dance with a willing guy, if given the chance. So long as there was good music to go with it. Gosh, I could dance an hour if anyone was willing to. Maybe someday I'll go to the Midtown Global Market and bring a boombox...
And my dancing clothes.
Which reminds me, I need to get some dancing clothes. Dude, that should be top priority. Back burner for all this bluetooth nunchuck swishspittle bucketknuckle dunkreef golfmote stuff.
Yes, I just made up a whole five words in the space of one sentence.
Aye. For tonight, life is good.
For always, God is good.
!Noah!
Why?
I'm too happy for that sort of stuff to matter. Sigh. It'll probably be over tomorrow, I'll probably forget what the heck I was happy about...dang, I don't even know now, really...well, there is Windy. I don't think I've ever fallen in love with a fictional figment of some fictional character's fictional imagination before.
It's new.
It's unorthodox!
It involves little self control and a lot of dreamyweamy!
I want to dance. I think I've come to the point where I'd dance with a willing guy, if given the chance. So long as there was good music to go with it. Gosh, I could dance an hour if anyone was willing to. Maybe someday I'll go to the Midtown Global Market and bring a boombox...
And my dancing clothes.
Which reminds me, I need to get some dancing clothes. Dude, that should be top priority. Back burner for all this bluetooth nunchuck swishspittle bucketknuckle dunkreef golfmote stuff.
Yes, I just made up a whole five words in the space of one sentence.
Aye. For tonight, life is good.
For always, God is good.
!Noah!
Windy
Here's the deal.
Life keeps throwing me curve balls. And all those awesome ones Bugs Bunny made up. Those too.
I haven't been enjoying getting up in the morning.
I haven't enjoyed going places, doing things, meeting people, seeing people, thinking about what I'm gonna do...
But, for reasons wild and mysterious and lovely and strange, I'm not feeling pessimistic right now.
I might be getting a job in the next few weeks (prayers, if'y'please).
Life is amazing. God gave me free will, for goodness' sake! I can do anything I want! Within reason and the boundaries of the law, naturally, but ANYTHING! AUGH!
Windy. I don't care what you think, I don't care what you say. That's beauty, right there. I don't care about the music too much. I like the tune, sure, but the words describe a girl, for me. Also, that song happened to be in a TV show from 2008 named Life on Mars. And there was a girl named Windy. She was a figment of the main character's imagination. I'm not sure such a beautiful thing is possible this side of the reality/dreamworld border, but I don't think it matters. Windy's best for the lonely.
Which I am. Heck, you probably know it. Either that or you envy me or somesuch nonsense. I don't know, honestly. But I officially have...I can't remember how many exactly, but one more inmate in the crazed, wondrous prison that is my mind.
Windy makes me wish I were delusional or insane, 'cause then she'd be real.
!Noah!
Life keeps throwing me curve balls. And all those awesome ones Bugs Bunny made up. Those too.
I haven't been enjoying getting up in the morning.
I haven't enjoyed going places, doing things, meeting people, seeing people, thinking about what I'm gonna do...
But, for reasons wild and mysterious and lovely and strange, I'm not feeling pessimistic right now.
I might be getting a job in the next few weeks (prayers, if'y'please).
Life is amazing. God gave me free will, for goodness' sake! I can do anything I want! Within reason and the boundaries of the law, naturally, but ANYTHING! AUGH!
Windy. I don't care what you think, I don't care what you say. That's beauty, right there. I don't care about the music too much. I like the tune, sure, but the words describe a girl, for me. Also, that song happened to be in a TV show from 2008 named Life on Mars. And there was a girl named Windy. She was a figment of the main character's imagination. I'm not sure such a beautiful thing is possible this side of the reality/dreamworld border, but I don't think it matters. Windy's best for the lonely.
Which I am. Heck, you probably know it. Either that or you envy me or somesuch nonsense. I don't know, honestly. But I officially have...I can't remember how many exactly, but one more inmate in the crazed, wondrous prison that is my mind.
Windy makes me wish I were delusional or insane, 'cause then she'd be real.
!Noah!
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