Our "Where you people at"-map no longer looks like it has a nasty case of the chicken pox. Although I am happy that it's feeling better, I am a little sad that you can no longer see the various locations of our visitors on its diseased skin. It just shows a measly eight visits in the United States. Oh well. At least now we can see better where new blotches are going.

Also, you may have noticed that our hit counter is down. I know many of you are distraught right now with thoughts of all the hypothetical donuts you will miss out on (we were getting close to 7000 hits). It was about this time last year that Kaleb decided to not give out Krispy Kreme donuts on a monumentous hit count landmark. Alas, we are going to have to cancel that tradition.

I am back, like a famine.

Wow guys. I am sorry. I think it's been nearly a month since I posted anything. Yikes. And I dare to call myself a contributor to this blog! Anyhow, here I contribute.

1. I do have something of an excuse, as this is the first weekend in the last three or four weeks that I've had a functioning power cord for my laptop, so I've been bumming off of other people and therefore trying to cut things as short as possible.

2. Today was the first day Moscow broke 60 degrees!! Truly a red letter day, since it also marked the first day we've had a full day of sunlight! It was glorious. Two and a half hours of soccer make any day better, even, nay especially a day like this.

3. Want to read something that will blow your mind, change your life, and make you wonder where in the world you have been all these years? Try Surprised by Hope, by Bishop Tom Wright, or Heaven Misplaced, by Pastor Doug Wilson. We've got some work to do, people.

4. On a note that is not totally different, you can go here and see some other stuff by me. I'll be posting poetry, art, commonplaces, and some random ideas. Don't be fooled, though. It is but a sideshow, a halftime performance when compared to the Flabbergaster.

5. [a preview for #4...] A short poem I wrote recently. It's called the ocean. It's got some things going on with the rhythm and meter, so watch for that. It's also not just about water. In case you were wondering.

you know i always miss the ocean

on stormy days i miss its waves

and on the clear days too

cause three thousand miles are just

too many for my toes to trip

when we've just got a weekend.

i know the gut-punching sickness

that comes on darker nights

when i wake up and there you

aren't.

and how i've wished to weep

for now i know how it is to be alone

the slap of water in the sink,

any mirrored flash of light,

the frozen fountain in

-

the frozen square below

they all remind me of the ocean

and of the suns embrace

and loneliness loves to gnaw at my guts

its chewed all through my

heart

for you are gone so i'm not here;

pray God someday

that all of that will change

is this what earth feels like to heav'n

(now am i not absurd?)

but i say sometime in the sunlight

when on the highest crest of hills

when dancing with our life's true love

we long for what we do not know.

6. I have a fruit that I like now (don't read a lot into that statement; it's kind of a long and

somewhat embarrassing story that involves me not liking most fruits): the orange. It kind of makes my day.

7. What is it about the song Drift Away that makes anyone in the room sing along? I think it's kind of amazing how music does that to people.

8. One wonders if "sheds crystal shells" is not one of the best phrases in the English language. Props to Robert Frost.

9. People, this kind of makes my day. If you don't know where it's from, click here, and laugh.

10. Although it's not because of any of the typical pop culture reasons, College Spring Break is amazing. So are my grandmother's mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and biscuits and gravy. There is quite possibly a causal relationship there.

11. I broke the 10 item barrier. Rad. Now I look ridiculous and long-winded, instead of the usual, which would be just ridiculous. Oh well.

I am just me

So. I start every post I write with "I . . . " followed by some action verb. Rob has indicated that this at times grates on his nerves, and asks me why I do it. Now I think this question answers itself, but I wanted to give a public defense of my habit because it says something about me and about how I blog. Here goes. 

Josh Gibbs' The Cedar Room influenced how I think about blogging more than I can really say (thus Rob's jab about copycat-etry). It was the first real blog I ever read, and I read it for nearly three years. It was cool, smart, well-written, and only rarely got above itself. Yet Josh always started his posts with the phrase "We are." At least, after he was married. Before that it was "I am." In a post I've long since lost track of, Josh talked about why he did this, and said that it reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing while typing away on the internets. 

I think this is very wise, and so I copied him. See, when I say "I ..." what I'm trying to do is make the reader realize that this is not some sort of encyclopedia, some vault of knowledge, some authority sitting in cyberspace. It's not even as trustworthy as Wikipedia isn't. It's just me, a very, very white freshman in college sitting in a two-bedroom apartment typing away just for the heck of it. My words are more often than not rash, foolish, and startlingly ill-informed. They're just that: my words.

Why is it "I" and not "We?" Well, like I said, when Josh used it it was because he got hitched, so I just avoided it cause that's not me. A friend of ours  already introduces us as "Rob and his partner Kaleb," so I get skittish around these sorts of things. And besides, if I make some absurd claim that Rob doesn't agree with, you can't expect him to go to the stake defending it. I've probably said or will say at some point that I believe that the death penalty should be used in America pretty much exactly like the Old Testament says it should be in Israel (yes, rebellious kids, witches, adulterers, and homosexuals all come under that). Rob doesn't agree with this, so I'd title the post "I call for blood" or something, because it's not "We call for blood." It's just little old me. But if this habit is indeed bugging everyone, I'll shut-up already and move on. What thinkest thee? 

The 100th issueversary- The Anemic Muskrat

Here we are ladies and gentlemen. This is, indeed, a momentous occasion. I have a few words to say (in the form of a fable) in commemoration of our hundredth post. Here goes:

There was once a very scared muskrat. He didn't have any particular reason to be scared, except that a voracious dog was chasing him. The poor anemic thing. That's right, the muskrat is anemic. Is there no justice in the world? Not that we should blame the dog either; he was hungry (and anorexic). When seeing the muskrat the dog couldn't help but defecate. . . uh, I mean salivate. So, the dog was chasing the poor muskrat all around in circles and the muskrat became all lightheaded (because he's anemic) and fainted. Well, this didn't please the dog. He was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat something that had fainted. You see, the dog always did this. He was always making excuses for not eating something. So, he just returned to his own vomit, I mean kennel. The muskrat lived to bleed another day.

Moral: Better look before you read next time. Ha Ha Ha!