Digging in the Sandbox

     On a warm sunny August evening, the residents of Ross Hall's fifth floor met at the volleyball courts for a get-to-know-you event. The match went to three sets, and as often happens, was a study of momentum, with the final score being 19-21, 21-16, 21-4.
     Floor leader Olivia organized the game, in the first set her team(made up of herself, Zach, Jon, Connor, Andrew R., Jennifer and Bree) faced into the sun, they tagged themselves as the "Fettuccine Alfredo"(maybe they were hungry?), facing off against the "Cardinals"(Composed of Steven F., Allison, Katie C, Hannah, Wes, Casey and Patricia), who had their backs to the sun. The Alfredo got an early 4-1 lead, misplaced passes or failure to see the ball were keys all match long. Slowly the Cardinals rallied with great teamwork between Allison and Steven(who are engaged), eventually poking ahead as the 95-degree sunlight caused the opposition to squint hopelessly praying the ball wouldn't come near them. The well-heated sand also played a factor. Serving was a gamble always, it led to some tense moments before the Cardinals flew around to the other side with a 21-19 win in the first set.
     The second set started much the same as the opener; Cardinals down 5-1 right off. Many good digs and dives were performed, sunlight also blinded us and created a bunch of aces. My overhand serves were way off all night long, the underhand deadspin was working pretty well. Anyway, they outplayed us and tied the match with the 21-16 victory.
     The last set featured a debate about the status of balls hitting the side posts, and also another on balls on the line. As for the play, there wasn't much to say: the Alfredo were tying us in knots. Bree, better known for her soccer skills, suddenly caught fire on the service line and scored fourteen points in a row, about half of them aces. Well-tipped balls into holes in the Cardinal defense did the rest, and they won the match 19-21, 21-16, 21-4.
     We now have somewhat of an idea on whose names go with what faces, but we'll see if that will last. After  the match there was the fourth fire drill in three weeks, much to everyone's annoyance.
   
     This not-very-well-written post will end now, as I can't think of anything else to say. Greeks are trying to recruit new members, a blood drive was held, tests are  being given and prepared for. The temperature in the dorm isn't too horrible yet, but there's a plague of bugs. Hopefully they'll spray soon.

When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer

     Read this poem in Lit today, it's terrific. Perfectly captures what's wrong with public education/higher education, and how we really learn. Written by Walt Whitman.

"When I heard the learn'd astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars."

First and Fifteen

     Well, the first week of classes is over with now, and I wish I could hibernate the entire weekend. (I've even tried several times this week to take a nap.) So, in case you can't tell, THINGS ARE BUSY. Pretty much hit the ground running Monday morning, not sure how long this pace will hold up.

     Nutrition will be a big problem, I'm thinking. The textbook is horribly written, and I disagree with most of its info. The tests will be very much a challenge; the answers lock once you enter them, and a cap limit of thirty minutes is the time allotted to get them done. And the instructor isn't the greatest. But, you know, it's a gen ed, and once I pass I won't have to take it again. So just plow through as best you can and be done with it, right?
     Psych will be interesting. Many wrong ideas, but also some that are on the right track, and many interesting things to ponder. The professor seems very much a real person, wears jeans and a T-shirt to class, and has a clear concept of her role as teacher and ours as students: "I'll teach the material, you don't have to enjoy or agree with everything, just learn it and remember it for the tests. And if you keep the info afterwards, even better."
     Latin is terrific. The professor is impossible to describe; but strangely very much like you'd imagine a college language professor to be like. The closest comparison I can think of right now is Mr. Feeney from Boy Meets World. He LOVES language, (English, Greek, Latin, maybe others?) and everything that goes with them; the history, cultural impacts on the society, it's fantastic. So while talking about words and their power, we can go from mythology to theology to military tactics all over. It's pretty great.
     Lit should go well, hopefully. The nice lady I wished I'd taken for Comp I is the professor, she enjoys the English language, wanting us to think, to (from what I picked up listening in the hallway last year) understand the story or point of what we're reading, and to tell it well when writing. And I know several people already in that class, and I'm familiar with the classroom.
     Editing will keep me running pretty fast, it's the other one I'm not too sure about. The professor is the head of the Media Studies department, so that's a bit scary. She's also a print specialist, so that's good, I guess. The class will definitely improve my writing/editing skills, though. Trying to take advantage of extra-credit points when they're offered.
     Interesting facts: All teachers are "instructors" unless they hold a Ph.D. in their field or are working towards (and are very close to getting) it, this semester four of the five are professors. Now the ratio of men-to-women instructors I've had in college (for fifteen classes) is  6:7. (Strat didn't have a teacher, and Mr. Shamblin taught two classes, thus accounting for the two-class gap.)

     Went to the BCM meeting Monday night, that went well. Pretty much studied nonstop ever since, though I have been able to get a bit of guitar-playing thrown in there. Had three quizzes already; in nutrition, psych and editing, and volunteered to be class note-taker for Latin, if somebody needs it.

     The guys in my quad are pretty cool for the most part, we've actually, like, talked once or twice a day whenever we pass each other, run to Wal-Mart for groceries or offered an invite to do whatever.

     So far it seems like there's a little more of each little component - the small good details, the amount of effort required to put into homework, the silence, the unappetizing food, the aloneness, the small sense of getting to know people, the classes where you're actually learning - so it's a little bit of everything so far.

The Art of Making Peanut Butter Sandwiches

     So, I mentioned a few months ago that I gave my end-of-spring-semester PowerPoint presentation on "The Art of Making Peanut Butter Sandwiches". Thought it'd be a good time to rephrase it from a speech to written form. Since the fall semester has started today, I didn't have much time to type this up, thus accounting for any possible spelling/grammatical mistakes.

     "We all love it, pretty much. Most people were raised on the stuff. We can make cookies and candy, all sorts of tasty things with it. What food am I talking about? Peanut butter! Of course, the most common way to eat the food popularized by George Washington Carver is through peanut butter sandwiches.
      "There are a lot of good points for the versatile sandwich; most importantly for college students, it's cheap. Any way you can save money should be followed. Another plus for students on the go is that it's so quick to make, you can just whip up a sandwich in no time flat and scarf it down while running to the next class. It's also easily customizable, lending itself to a myriad of inventive options.
     "Of course, there's also some downsides. By itself, plain peanut butter is rather bland and sticky. While healthier than most cafeteria food, it's still not particularly packed with nutrients, it requires some sort of silverware to scoop/slather onto some other edible surface, and some people are allergic to peanuts.
     "The "How-To" of making a basic peanut butter sandwich is very simple, almost too easy to list. Taking a utensil of some kind(generally knife or spoon), peanut butter is scooped out of the container, then spread onto a slice of bread, while another substance such as jelly is slathered onto a different bread slice. The contents will merge somewhat as the bread is pressed together, and then the sandwich is eaten."
     "There are varying ways of doing this, however. One way would be making homemade peanut butter, which is often done for health reasons in avoiding preservatives in the typical store-bought variety. Adventure-seekers, spotting a new way to experiment with tastes, also do this. The process used is very simple, dropping peanuts into a blender until a thick, grainy paste appears. This must be eaten quickly or refrigerated, however, as it will separate and be very nasty otherwise.
     "Those adventurous folks may continue their trip off the main highway of conformity by diving into a wide array of topping options.  This could include chocolate(My favorite, chocolate chips and chopped-up Snickers are recommended), or the typical jelly, with a large flavor-spectrum to choose from, ranging from grape to dandelion. Carrots or some other vegetable could be inserted in an effort to make it healthier, as could fruits like apples or bananas. If the sweetness is a problem, but chocolate doesn't quite do the trick, then honey or sugar might work well. An often overlooked topping that goes well is bacon.
     "And don't think that a typical store-bought loaf of white bread is your only option for what to build the sandwich on, either. A tortilla could be utilized very effectively, a pita could work in a pinch. Cookies make wonderful snack-sandwiches,  Oreos do a great job in this area. Bagels can add an interesting hearty foundation, making a filling meal. Hot dog/hamburger buns are not recommended, as their fluffy texture overwhelms everything and adds to the blandness of straight peanut butter.
     "The average American child eats something close to 1,500 peanut butter sandwiches by the time they head to college, with many more eaten then and later. Maybe next time you find yourself making a sandwich the typical way, consider trying something new. A new favorite might be right around the corner."

     Hope I didn't make you too hungry.

Modern Society's Front Porch

     This was my final essay for Comp II last spring, it was kind of fun to write. Jason liked it a lot, scored a 99 on it, the rough draft (96 pionts) could have been accepted as the final paper, but I wanted those three extra points I earned. And there were one or two sentences that I wanted to reword just so they would sound better.

     It can be a blessing, or it could be the work of the devil. It can wreck a marriage or reunite families. It can be every bit as addicting a drug as alcohol, or it can be a form of therapy. It can help keep friendships alive, or it could get you fired. For every one and many more of these contradictory elements, social media can be either a good or bad thing. It is a tool, and as novelist Jack Schaeffer wrote, a tool, whatever it is, is only as good or bad as the man who uses it. For the most part, social media, as a whole, is a good tool for communication.

            As humans, we are made to connect with others, to interact. We build up nations over time, subdivided by such things as state, tribe, city, neighborhood or family. The basic unit, however, is this concept we call “communities”, which is a hard idea to precisely define. Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary defines it this way: “All persons living in a specific location; or a group having interests or religion in common; or joint sharing.” Stephanie M. Reich suggests that a “community” involves interdependence, communication and emotional connection, and is operated in a systematic way. It also involves dealing with people (Reich). Over time, as new technologies are developed and distributed among the masses, the sense of community shifts as well, further complicating matters of definition. While talking of Time magazine in his book The Mechanical Bride, scholar Marshall McLuhan suggests that the press had fostered the image of the world as one single city as a byproduct of their work, in the process creating a new area for communities to develop (McLuhan). With these new technologies, what once was relatively easy to define gradually spread out from a group in the same geographic area to groups with shared interests still with physical interactions, and then migrating into the digital world they became all shared interests with next to no face-to-face meetings (Reich).

            As the Internet grew, sites like MySpace, Facebook, YouTube, Google+ and Twitter emerged, as well as other sites such as the children-oriented Webkinz, the dating sites eHarmony and Match.com, Internet radio on Pandora and Spotify, professional networking at LinkedIn and image-driven sites such as Pinterest and Tumblr. These can all fall under the general term “social media”, which Thomas A. Bryer defines as “technologies that facilitate social interaction, make possible collaboration, and enable deliberation across stakeholders”. Through social media, content and information can travel extremely fast, city agencies can get feedback on proposed policies as well as draw participation for events such as meetings or ceremonies (Bryer). Elected officials can become better acquainted with their constituents’ opinions and needs. Newspapers, radio and TV stations can find out what their audiences would like to see, as well as get news tips unavailable in any other format. For events of national scale, such as the shootings in Aurora or Sandy Hook, the Joplin tornado, Hurricane Sandy or the Boston bombings, information was first spread through social media sites, and then up-to-date proceedings were delivered via Twitter as the stories unfolded.

            Another aspect of the beneficial uses of digital resources is education, which has and can be improved through the use of social media, as Patrick Larkin notes. Larkin states that one of the basic tenets of public education has been to prepare students for life outside the classroom, and create tomorrow’s responsible citizens. He further argues that to create proper citizenship in our modern world, schools must embrace digital resources, which include social media. A former principal, Larkin outlines the way his school district has benefitted from its’ new status as

social media-literate, with school news posted on a blog, Twitter account and Facebook page,  giving the local newspaper instant access to potential stories, as well as giving parents lightning-fast updates on school happenings. These tools can also create easier pathways to learning, such as online classes: “Teachers and students now collaborate with other eager learners from anywhere – at any time – accessing and learning with experts in subjects they are passionate about. Social media is also learning media” (Larkin).

            Through LinkedIn, and to a lesser extent, Facebook, etc., jobseekers can land careers in their fields, as well as develop useful contacts to make their jobs run more smoothly. Advice and insights can be shared on how to craft a better-looking resume, nailing that important interview, or new techniques that could improve productivity. Portfolios of previous work history can be developed as companies increasingly research potential employees online, and references can give feedback with just a few mouse clicks.

            Journalist Wayne Greene offered an interesting insight into this subject when he commented on air-conditioning leading to the demise of knowing your neighbors. His editorial argued that as families migrated indoors into the newly air-conditioned houses to watch the new device of television, they stopped interacting with their local communities. People no longer sat on the porch with neighbors while their kids played in the street; instead they all sat huddled in their respective living rooms watching “Bonanza” or “Happy Days”. Through this new frontier of social media, in particular Facebook, Greene theorizes that “we have a chance to recreate the communities we lost sixty years ago.” Used to, in our grandparents’ time, you would have conversations with your neighbor over the fence on all manner of subjects, from national politics to the high school football season to where to find a good sale on tomatoes. These are the types of things we discuss on Facebook, in a sense. Of course, they aren’t exactly parallel; at times you are just yelling your opinion out into the netherworld of nothingness, and it can occasionally take a long while before someone replies to your post. It doesn’t complete replace the front porch, but it serves as a close substitute for our era. “If we build communities online, all those things we lost when we started coming in every night might be regained” (Greene).

            Through Facebook, as we build our online communities, the handcuffs of proximity may be loosed; as we can get to know almost anyone we wish, no matter how far the distance might be between us. Personally, I use mine in order to keep track of news and to stay in touch with friends and family, scattered throughout fourteen different states and four countries. Many of my closest friends live in Missouri and surrounding states, and one of my sisters lives in Canada. Through Facebook, I’ve been able to stay in the loop of what’s happening in their lives, in addition to being plugged into the large-scale support network of encouragement and sympathy, laughter and advice of friendship as we try to help each other through this life we live.

        For all these reasons listed and many others, the upside to online networking and benefits from utilizing social media far outweighs their deficiencies. It’s an unshakable pillar of society that grew overnight, and though it will evolve as further new technologies emerge, our basic need for community is still intact. With so many helpful opportunities that communication through social media offers, we have the tools for changing our world for the better. Our communities exist now because of social media, and that’s a good thing.

Letter From Sunny

  Found this under the bed while exploring. I'm not sure who Sunny was, I mean, I've heard stories, but she must've known Wesley.  - Rags 8-14-13

7-9-13  

 "Dear People,

       "I'm not sure how to start this...can't ask Wesley to help me type it, so I guess I'll just scratch it down on paper. I mean, of all those books I chewed up as a puppy; something had to rub off, right? Libraries are good things. They have tasty books with lots of cool smells, friendly people like Mimi working there, and sales!

       "But this letter isn't about libraries. It's about Wes. I'm worried about him. He's so stressed, and scared, unsure of what's ahead, trying to cope with whatever College has done to him. Maria von Trapp said in The Sound of Music, "You can't use school to escape your problems, Liesel; you've got to face them." Except I'm not sure he can... some can't really be dealt with, just left in the past and hope they don't visit very often. He seems so sad and alone; it's like his body is here at the house, but his mind is...somewhere else. And it isn't a very good place.

       "I haven't heard anything about any new stories he's been working on, that is bad. If he can't tell a story of some kind... He's nervous about what will happen when he gets out of college, about getting a job. I don't really like that guitar or mandolin very much, but he enjoys petting them. And he hasn't been able to do that very much for a while. He wants to; I can tell; but he can't, for some reason. And he hasn't really since that time he came back from camp that one year...sure, some stuff for the youth group, but not just for pure enjoyment.

       "Why does he have to go back to College soon? And what will that do to him? He seems so frightened, and changed, somehow...scarred, like he's been through something more awful than the fire. His...inside stuff, maybe his tummy? the part of a person that feels things, is so achingly lonely...then the Fourth of July didn't help anything. And the chicken and Meg, and then Skeet...that adds to his troubles. And, well, as for me...I don't have very much longer to be here. My job is pretty much finished; he's grown up now, and so I'm glad of that. But he doesn't seem very happy. Not that it's that important to always be or anything, but still... Will he be able to cope without me being there? How will he handle it when I'm no longer there to watch him? Who will take care of him?

       "Sure, I know Copper will do her best. And the family will miss him when he heads back to Tahlequah, and there's people from church and friends from camp. But it's like he doesn't exactly belong any of those places any more. There was the church picnic the other night, and if I'm right, Wes just kind of floated around on the edges and sadly watched everyone else having fun. Yeah, I thought so. He'll be going back to camp later this month as a counselor, which is kind of like a pack leader. That will be different, most of the campers are Caleb's age. Hoping to go to that Washington reunion, too, that would be nice. He hasn't gotten to see most of those people in a couple years, and he had a great time.

       "But what he really needs, even if he doesn't want to admit it, is a Person. Or maybe he just is too scared to figure out the first step in finding one...just as he'd finally left everything with Maddie in the past, what does Sam do but tear everything up again. It's funny...Maddie was blonde, like me. If I'm Wishbone, and if Wes is Joe, then...would she have been Sam? And then he meets Sam. Sort of funny how that works, isn't it? Mom picked out her wedding ring not realizing it was from the Monopoly board, it's that same type of deal.

       "To His Person: I don't know who you are, probably, but please take good care of Wes. He'll try to do his best for you, and you ought to do the same. If he counts you as a friend, treasure that; it doesn't come easily, at all. (We're both kind of suspicious that way...sorry. We don't mean anything by it, it's just that most people you run into are just other people, they don't really care about what's happening, except for what's happening with them.) And then, if by lots of petting and conversations and whatever else people do, then you should go to church and have puppies, no - babies, is that it? Kids. Yeah, well, do that.

       "I just hope that eventually he can be writing again, and not so confused all the time. That he can find something useful to do, where he can work at something he does well, that he likes doing. I'm not going to be here very long now at all...it will be very, very hard on him. Yes, it will be better for me, my job was done as best I could; and my bones won't be as stiff and hurt so much, and these ticks will stop bothering me, and I can see out of both eyes again; but for him....it will be like the fire all over again. Or Mimi. Or Dado. Or senior year of high school, with everything that happened then. Learning to drive, and that whole mess. Or that first time at camp. Sport. Or Rocky or Swifty. Or all of the cats. Shadow. Skeet. College.

       "No...it'll be a little like all of those, all at once. Except worse.

       "Copper, the little goats, whoever else will come along - Take care of him as much as you can for me, will you? And for the people, you guys can do a lot that we animals can't. You can pray, whatever that exactly means. You can type really well and use phones and computers and stuff. Just be there.

       "And the tree was happy..."

       "Sunny"

Beginning of Sophomore Year

     Things are beginning to get back to the same order as they always are around here...

     That means all the usual things; rain, chilly temperatures, important things being closed when you need them, fire drills, that sense of solitary-ness in a sea of thousands of people  It also means a severe vacuum of noise, nasty food and studying textbooks because there's nothing else to do.

     Ran into a couple people I know; Darrell the janitor, Mallory, and Andrew S. My annoying ponytailed neighbor Drew is gone, apparently, which is a very good thing. I'm in room 520 now, over from 521 last year. Steven F. is in my old room, he's an all right sort of guy, Stephen is on the other side, Zach two doors down.

     Woke up yesterday morning at eight, immediately went to go get my books, bought them. Dropped off my TCC transcript at the registrar's office, which has been added to my transcript here. Then mapped out my class routes, two of the classrooms I'd been in before, the three others were new.
     All that done, my day's tasks were finished in an hour and fifteen minutes. So I played guitar a little bit, watched Andy Griffith, studied the opening chapters of most of my textbooks, and then went for a walk nowhere in particular. Just needed to move somewhere, act like I doing something interesting. It started raining halfway through. While waiting to cross the street, I going one way and this old lady the other, she randomly says "I won't bite ya." I smile a little, not sure how to react or if I'd heard right. "What?" She grins. "See? That's better. You was thinkin' too hard, needed a smile. Have a nice day!" That's why I like Tahlequah as a town, things like that. People are friendly. One of those unexpected small brightnesses of encouragement God sends us through the middle of the darkened stretch of road we're traveling on at the moment.

     The Greeks are beginning their campaign season, and the student government too. I don't really understand either of those things. Sports haven't started just yet, not sure how often I'd go to games and stuff anyways. And if I did I'd more than likely want the other team to win. I don't know, I just don't absorb "school spirit" very well. More of a Chameleon than anything else, with effort I can appear to be a bunch of things: Bulldog, Demon, Dragon, Eagle, Golden Eagle, Knight, Pirate, Trojan. But not a RiverHawk.
     In the first place, it looks strange written that way. Shouldn't it be split into two words as "River Hawks" (like UMass-Lowell) or simply "Riverhawks", without the unnecessary capitalization? In the second place, I don't the river all that much. I don't really even like water. In the third place, I'm scared of heights. And whatever bird-name I identify  with is the orange and black of Morris High's Eagles. Also, just the phonetics of the name itself. Stretch out "Hawks" and you get "Hawkkkssssss"; which is harsh and grating and unpleasant. Compare that to "Eagles", "Cardinals", "Ravens" or "Falcons", all of which stress the first syllable, which just sounds better. "Penguins" doesn't, exactly, but it's fun to say. The sounds of "Seahawks" and "Blackhawks" tend to flow easily throughout the entire word. "Blue Jays" works well, because that last syllable is one of those pleasant-sounding types, and it rhymes with a bunch of things. And another thing is there aren't really any hawks in town...guess "Blackbirds", "Sparrows", "Skunks" and "Squirrels" wouldn't work too well.

     As part of the remodeling of the Fit, they tore down one of the volleyball courts to use as a storage space for the huge piles of dirt and things. Hoping they don't need the other for the same purpose.

Traces of Copper

     "The editors asked me to continue this column...I guess I'll do it. Won't be the same, though.
     "The family's been really sick all week, that's not very good at all.
     "Courtney's broken foot is still hurting pretty bad.
      "Amy had surgery Thursday, having her tonsils(whatever those are) taken out. She's recovering all right, though, so that's good. Eating lots of ice cream and Popsicles.
     "Wesley left for college again this afternoon.
     "Rags the new kitten tried to climb into one of his boxes of stuff, guess she didn't want him to leave. She's getting good grades for...whatever subjects it is that kittens study.
     "I can't go inside because of the ticks and stuff, having to wear a flea collar. That isn't very fun either.
     "Frolic and Freckles are usually hanging out together, they enjoy each other's company. Goat and Cat don't seem like very easy languages to translate in, but I don't know, they seem to make it work somehow.
     "All of the roosters are fighting and trying to out-crow and strut more impressively than each other, two in particular. It's sort of funny.
     "How did Sunny do these? I'm already out of things to say."

Strange Dreams

     I go through times where I'll have all these varied, detailed dreams at night, then go for a couple months without having any. Does anyone else do that, too?

     Usually they involve people I know, who are generally in a place that's unnatural for them to be. Or it's cinematic quality, complete with background music, changes in lens perspective and cutting.
     Or the less-interesting true-to-life dreams that have this weird way of actually happening at some point in the future; eating pizza, writing a grocery list, sitting in a psych class untaken at the time, or visiting friends you hadn't met yet.
     And cats. If the dream involves a cat, sometimes that really happens. Not in exactly the same way as the dream, but the actual event itself has the same theme and end result.

     Over the past eight months or so, since January, the dreams I've had are really chaotic; loaded with action and filled with danger. And they've mostly pieced together a story; with many gaps, but still, glimpses of some larger tale.
     For about four or five nights in a row, I was getting chased and shot at by these angry-looking thugs in basically every scene from any action movie ever made. I was trying to get away from them, they were interrupting my mission, which was to find someone. Gradually I learned I was looking for Ash, she was in some potentially-fatal situation and needed rescuing. (This is strange. See the sentence above, "people I know in unnatural habitat"? Can't imagine anyone less likely to need a rescue if caught in spy/war movie situation.)
     Skip ahead a ways in this dream-world, two or three months in real time, I suppose she was saved, thought details are unspecified, and by weapon and actions unknown I was wounded. I know this because I had just gotten out of the hospital at the time of the next installment, and was visiting her family in their apartment. It could have been awkward for sure, as I'd never met any of them before, but things went smoothly, chatting about whatever like I'd known them for years. Anyway, there's these bombs that starting falling, so we have to evacuate, debris is crashing down as we run down the hallway, flames begin to emerge in some places, the elevator develops gaping holes in the floor and ceiling. We all scramble out, and head...somewhere else in the city along the newly potholed, cracked and decimated streets. Our destination is unknown, for the scene ends there, as this first raid of a much larger war begins.
     I don't know what this war is about, or who we're fighting, but we're right in the thick of things. And it always seems to be raining; the sky is constantly displaying a threatening, overcast look. And the contacts I've made in actual life, knowing people all over the country and in a variety of job-related fields, have provided a gold mine of things important to our group's living another day/defeating our opposition/fulfilling different missions. The next night there was another attack; we were in some kind of base; there were massive projectile launchers(Rifles or cannons, with some element suggestive of lasers) that were being fired. Besides Ash and I, Dad was there, and many other soldiers. I was planning a strategy for defense of our base; giving orders to people.
     About a week after that real-time, a new episode was discovered; it was sometime in winter, a light snow was falling, apparently things had calmed down somewhat, though our band of hunted rebels were still being tracked. Ash and I were on some kind of retreat/vacation thing, at Westville, visiting with Nano. Dad and Trevor were there, too. Out of nowhere, a surprise raid was launched, forcing us into a hasty evacuation to Tahlequah, where we landed in my dorm in Ross. All safe, even Nano, but the ride there had been an eventful one, our nerves were very shaken as we tried futilely to not worry about what going to happen next.
     That's where those scraps of fragmented story arc end at the moment; so I don't know what happens at the end. Who are we fighting? Why are we always on the run, being hunted? What caused this war?

     In other stressful/intense/traumatic dreams unrelated to that unfolding saga, there was this previously mentioned scene in January, as referenced in "Blog Post No. 100"
     "Usually my dreams are very cinematic in quality, just like watching a movie. Not only am I watching the film, but I also have a role in it. This time it was near the end of the film, my character(I never learned his name) and his sister Elizabeth stumble into the bad guys' secret lair or hidden mine or whatever. Except it was in a deserted alleyway. Anyway, we're trying to figure out what to do, when the bad guy, a large balding very angry man, finds out we found this spot out, so he tries to kill us, by bashing us over the head with a large heavy snow globe-type object. I somehow wrestle it away from him, and then this older lady, who we're kind of scared of, she seems mean, barges in and in so doing, distracts us all. Turns out she's a very nice lady, famous, but misunderstood, so she just seemed to be mean and unpleasant. Well, while we're all distracted, the man throws a kitchen knife at us(it's one of those freakishly long and sharp ones), it's hurtling at me, and the lady deflects it with her umbrella. The knife falls to the ground off to our left, the man is charging towards us, everything is in confusion - and that's when I wake up. Pretty good dream, actually; this one had a plot, which most of the dreams I've had over the last month haven't, they've just been isolated action scenes." 

     In another stressful dream that took place sometime in May, the illogical part of your mind that always stays on was working overtime. I had no comprehension of what was going on even within the dream, although it featured Iron Man and Creek the cat, and Captain America leaping through time by warping into and out of the days of a calendar that looked like a digitalized version of the "Payday" board. 

     Several months passed without any unusual dreams, then I awoke startled and terrified from a nightmare a couple weeks ago, sure that Trevor had been run over and killed, still in shock about that. Then I realized where I was, and that he had not been run over, and it was time to leave camp in a few hours. 
     And Sunday was the same type of dream, Amanda had died of cancer. That didn't happen, either. 

     Hopefully tonight I can get some normal sleep, but if I have any other unusual dreams I'll add them to this post sometime in the next couple days. 
 
     Must have hit some button, that text above looks different...has some kind of background color. I'm tired.

     UPDATE THURSDAY MORNING - Yep. On two nonconsecutive hours of interrupted sleep, Dylan and I had to get to Rogers, Ark. in order to get a book at the library before they closed at noon. And part of the highway was being used as a physics test for a possible new Silver Dollar City roller coaster.

Summer's End

     Move back into the dorms on Saturday. Not really looking forward to it at all. So this week will be filled with those last-second details that need to get finished.

     It was good to have a break from school, though strange at times.

      Watched a ton of movies(for me, anyway) this summer, twelve for school, and then probably another five or so new ones and then rewatching probably twenty more treasured classics. My favorites from the school-movies were a 1984 Clint Eastwood Western called Pale Rider, a 1974 detective story called Chinatown with Jack Nicholson, and of the gangster movies I guess I liked The Godfather best.
      Saw Iron Man 3 in theaters, it was amazing. Rewatched too many favorites to list; some of them were Captain America, Thor, The Fox and the Hound, Tangled, most of the Air Bud movies, the Spider-Man trilogy, Cars...  

     It was great to be able to have time to read. Most of the Mitford books, several random books on homeschooling, Agatha Christie, The Hiding Place, a history of The Andy Griffith Show, Bodie and Brock Thoene, The Great Gatsby, the Harmony series, essay collections also by Philip Gulley, Dracula, Nicholas Sparks' A Walk to Remember, G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown stories, Kevin DeYoung's Just Do Something, Lucy Maud Montgomery, a book of poems written by soldiers during World War I, Will Rogers, Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, Job, Ecclesiastes, and a lot of those New Testament letters. Many other things partially-read or are simply not coming to mind at the moment.
     It was great, also, to be able to go to a library that actually works as a real library, that has real books. I sort of grew up in the Okmulgee library; first started going there when we moved to Morris when I was six. It would be really interesting to see a listing of all the thousands of books I've checked out over that time. Anyway, one of the librarians commented that she'd missed seeing me with the rest of the family during the school year, because I always read so much and "so many good books, too."

     People asked questions like "You going to get a summer job?" or "What did you enjoy most about the summer?" It might have been nice to be able to get a summer job, I don't know. It just wasn't possible just now; hopefully next year. I guess what I liked the best was spending time with Amy. It sounds boring, but there's that undefinable sweetness about Down's people, that joyfulness, it's good to be around. Read a lot of picture books, danced Ring Around the Rosy a million times, those kinds of things.

     Voluntarily got a haircut after school let out in spring; it was getting too long and hard to deal with. Bangs aren't supposed to drop past your nose. Also got a new pair of glasses a few weeks ago, in a completely different style of frame. And my braces are supposed to hopefully come off in October.

     I know a ton of people going everywhere on Earth, it seems, for vacations: Vancouver, New York City, Florida, Louisiana, Louisville. And a lot of mission trips in far-off places: Mexico, Haiti, San Francisco, Kenya, Turkey. That's good, hopefully they made an impact, maybe someday I'll go on one of those types of trips. But for now the only other "mission field" or whatever you want to call it, besides the house, is Missouri, working as a counselor at church camp. It was a good experience, hopefully the teaching from the sermons will leave a deep impression on the kid's minds.

     It would be kinda nice to just skip over almost the entire month of July...that wasn't fun. The ache is slowly disappearing, but it's still very much there. We did get a new kitten from the Buckmasters named Rags, she usually hangs out in my room, looking out my window or sleeping on my paws while I type.

     The reunion was good to go to, glad I got to be a part of it, see YT pals again. Kyle and Mariah's wedding went pretty well, seemed to fit their personalities. Cody just found out a few days ago that he and his wife will have a baby coming soon.

     The Hall of Fame Game between the Dolphins (in those terrible redesigned uniforms) and Cowboys kicks off in a couple hours, Caleb's REALLY excited about that, since it means the beginning of football season. I don't really care, but it's good that somebody is looking forward to it. I just can't really enjoy football anymore, it seems like. I don't know why.

     I probably should get started packing.

Searching for the Light

     This was my first attempt at a college essay. I kinda overshot the scope necessary....lol. This was the first project assigned in Comp I last fall, we were supposed to read Plato's essay "The Allegory of the Cave" and then write something about it, a review of what it said and what it meant. I guess what he was expecting was about three sentences something like this: "There once was a guy named Plato who lived a long time ago in Greece. He wrote an essay called "The Allegory of the Cave", which talked about finding knowledge. I had no idea what this essay was talking about."
      Instead, I wrote out the following four-page paper, all our teacher(the hippie Mr. Deiter) wrote on mine was "More than I was looking for."

Searching for the Light

     "Plato(429 B.C.-348 B.C.) was one of the deepest thinkers in the history of ancient Greece - a land that produced one of the most intriguing civilizations ever recorded. As such, he has been studied for over two thousand years, many of his ideas influenced later theories and ways of thinking, which further influenced cultures and mindsets. His writings and speeches contain many grand concepts that are a little hard to understand, such as those expressed in "The Allegory of the Cave", which was part of a larger utopian treatise entitled "The Republic". 

     Mainly addressed to his students and disciples, a specific student named Glaucon is mentioned several times throughout the piece. In structure, it's a learned dialogue between teacher(Plato) and student(presumed Glaucon), a dialogue told in allegory to help the student retain the information and understand it easily. 

     The picture(for that is what an allegory is; a story told in easily applicable mental pictures to make its point) essay opens with a scene of humans in "an underground den", heavily shackled to keep from moving, who have been imprisoned in this cave since childhood. A mammoth fire is burning, keeping all they see in flickering shadow, which is their whole world. All they know is what is in the cave with them, or rather, what they perceive to be in the cave with them. Seeing the shadows of objects in the firelight, the reflections become the cave-dwellers' truth. 

     Now, as Plato supposes, one of these men was somehow able to escape from his chains, leaving the cave and entering into the sunlight. His eyesight would be dazzled; he would be blinded by the shock of perceiving the light for the first time, it would be overwhelming. The reality he knows - that of the shadows - is nowhere to be seen, and the place in which he stands seems distorted and alien. If someone was to tell him that the world he was now in was the true one, and that the world which he left is an illusion, he would (quite logically) deny that statement. As Plato says, "Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formally saw are far truer than the objects which are now shown to him?" 

     Now, being forced to look at the direct source of the light in the world, the pain of this effort will be infernal; his whole self will explode from the strain, and he will be able to see nothing clearly. 

     Over time, however, his eyes will be able to take in more clearly more and more of the objects and men that he sees in this world. Eventually, he will even be able to see the sun, seeing and observing all these things, will be able to form ideas and notions about the existence and purpose of that which he sees. 

     Given his new abilities to be able to truly see the way things are, he will naturally pride himself on the accomplishment of undergoing such a change, and would pity those still locked into the old life he once knew, finding them lesser beings. Now supposing he was forced to return to the cave, his eyes would be confounded by the darkness, and if in a contest against those imprisoned always in measuring the shadows on the wall, he would look ridiculous and fail miserably. Other would say that after leaving the cave, he lost his eyesight, and thus attempting ascend out of the depths was foolhardy. If anyone was foolish enough to try such a mad scheme as to leave, he should be put to death, in order to escape such a cruel fate. 

     The representation is this: The actual world, that which we see, is the prison, the fire our sun. The light is the spiritual world, the mental world; that which cannot be known in the cave. The journey upwards symbolizes the trek of mankind. As they climb higher and higher in the thirsty search for knowledge, our souls come to understand things of which, farther down the path, we never would have dreamed existed. 

       Plato goes on in this exposition of the tale to explain that want to know, striving to understand; once they come to realize that there is so much out there in the world, we try to rationalize or explain all the unknown "Whys" we encounter.
     A truly educated person, however, is one who climbs the mountain out of the depths, absorbs all that he can, and then returns to the bondage of ignorance, and in explaining his newfound knowledge, he sets his fellow prisoners free so that they can start on their own pilgrimages, their own journeys towards discovery, further enlightening and enabling those who follow after.
      Contrary to Plato's ideas, mere possession of knowledge is not the end-all of humanity, the ultimate pinnacle and purpose of mortal achievements. Knowledge is merely a tool, a vitally essential tool; but a tool nevertheless. Is crafting a hammer and some nails going to create buildings for men to dwell and do business in? Simplistically speaking, yes, that would be true. But a closer examination would reveal the hammer and nails, once crafted, need to be used for their appointed end:  that of the construction of the building. In the same way, once we have that knowledge in our toolbox of the mind, the only way to do anything worthwhile in the world is by using that knowledge for its intended purpose; that of serving the greater good and playing a role in something far greater than anything we mortals could possibly fathom. This is what the essay means to me.
     Many people, including myself, believe in Christ, and part of our duty is to glorify God and point others to Him. Not only by preaching, but by more everyday tasks like healing, listening, counseling or otherwise just showing up on time for work each day and giving the day's chores all that we have. Other religions also state a belief in some grander purpose, and those followers strive to understand how to fulfill what they can do in the world, and know what they can't. Still others, trying to ignore the microscopic pin-drop of their lives in the mural of eternity, take this knowledge they find and apply it by saving the environment, or find some fulfillment by decrying that "There is no purpose in life; we have no reason to exist."
     That isn't ttue. As long as humans continue to exist, they will know that there is more out there. They will instinctively understand, on some level, that they know nothing except that which they perceive, and that their perspective much be widened and given depth. Once they understand this, the search for knowledge begins. And once this knowledge is attained, they know, whether they choose to obey the internal command or not, that they must go back to where the path started and share what they found with others. This is what the essay means.
     That leaves one question unanswered - How will this knowledge be used? For corrupt, twisted means of personal gain and greed? Or for freely sharing and providing a resource for future generations to come?" 

Captain America

     I really like superheroes.

     They're modern-day mythology - our counterpart to the Greeks' having Achilles, Hercules and the residents of Mount Olympus. I was watching Captain America Thursday night for maybe the fifth time, and thought I should write a post about the character.

     It was 1943, World War II had been raging for our guys for over a year, and in some parts of Europe, it was the fourth year of the war. A morale boost was needed to keep up support for the war(why don't we have that nowadays?), and so several people at Timely Comics(later Marvel), most importantly writer Joe Simon and artist Jack Kirby, created a super-patriotic superhero, very pro-American and anti-Nazi. That character, of course, was Captain America. Interestingly enough, the fourth Captain America story, which features Cap using his shield as a weapon for the first time, was one of the first jobs a young writer named Stan Lee ever did for the company.
     Audiences loved the character, and he became one of the early star superheroes. After the war, punching Hitler didn't make as compelling a story anymore, and so people gradually lost interest as Communism made a less-than-appealing opponent. Actually, they pretty much lost interest in superheroes altogether, as comics shifted from telling tales about superhumans to depicting Westerns and love stories. (Ick.)
     Stan Lee pretty much hated this shift in focusing, but he needed a job, so he kept working, eventually rising to chief writer (and even farther on, editor) of Marvel Comics. He really wanted to quit, he was so fed up. His wife said, "Well, you don't like the job you're doing; but you're also so creative; there needs to be an outlet for that somehow. Why don't you write one story just the way want to write it, not for any editors or anybody, and see what happens? The worst they can do is fire you, and you already want to quit." So he took her advice, and that story led to a radically shift in the comics industry, as well as culture in general. It was about this team of superheroes known as the Fantastic Four, which later led to the Avengers and X-Men, as well as Spider-Man and a lot of other lesser-known characters.
     Early on in the Avengers series, someone decided to bring Captain America back to life, and he was reincarnated to become in some ways the leader of the Avengers, audiences loved it. About fifty years after this rebirth, that led to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, featuring the stories of Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, and Captain America, just to name a few.

     Out in a polar icecap in the Atlantic somewhere, people find this huge....behemoth of something or other. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents from Washington come to check it out, and they find something encased in the ice - a man in a blue suit, with a shiny round shield. The action then cuts back from this mise-en-scene(French cinematic term meaning "middle of the action"), flashing back almost seventy years to 1943, where a Nazi high-in-command officer in charge of HYDRA, the special-research division, named Johann Schmidt takes a mysterious, and extremely powerful, cube rumored to be a tesseract from the gods.
     Besides the great story, this movie has so many great one-liners, beginning with the opening lines: "Are you the guys from Washington?" "You get many other visitors out here?" Schmidt mentions the search for the Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark, and there's loads of other scattered quips.
     We're then introduced to Steve Rogers, a quick-witted scrawny, skinny asthmatic highly gifted with courage(to the point of stupidity), humility, and sarcasm; he has a very strong moral compass. Due to numerous health issues, he's failed the draft physical five times, and his best friend Bucky just enlisted. Due to leave the next day, they attend an expo of high-tech future gadgets, run by Howard Stark, Tony's father. Steve tries futilely one more time to sign up; a man named Abraham Erskine overhears Steve and Bucky arguing over this, is intrigued by the five tries. He offers Steve the chance to join the army for real, sending him to Camp Lehigh for training. "Do you want to kill Nazis?" "Is this a test?" "Yes." "I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies, no matter where they're from."
         Throughout the training, he catches the eyes of grouchy Colonel Chester Phillips and beautiful British MI6 agent Peggy Carter, through a mix of dogged determination, ingenuity, and self-sacrificial actions if needed. Rogers is eventually selected to test Erskine's super-serum formula, previously used on Schmidt. That prototype failed; as it wasn't ready. It amplifies every character trait, so good becomes great, and evil becomes worse. "Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay what you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man." But's Steve is still curious. "Why me?" "Because a strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength. And compassion."
     Peggy escort/guides Steve to the place where the procedure will take place the next morning. They have a conversation, she says, "You really have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" "Not really. I think this is the longest conversation I've had with one. Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on." "You must have danced."  "Well....askin' a woman to dance always seemed so terrifying. And then the past few years....it just didn't seem to matter that much. Figured I'd wait." "For what?" "...The right partner."
     The experiment works, but a HYDRA spy acting as the Secretary of State shoots Erskine and captures one of the Vita-Ray tubes. Erskine dies, thus taking his knowledge of the Super-Soldier project to the grave with him. (Later attempts to resurrect it resulted in Bruce Banner's becoming the Hulk following the gamma explosion.) Steve chases the guy, getting beat up, before finally catching him, and the spy commits suicide. "That wasn't so bad." Erskine looks at him. "That was penicillin." Or just before the injection of the Vita-Rays, "Steven? Are you all right?" "I guess it's too late to go to the bathroom, huh?" "How do you feel?" Peggy asks after the experiment. "Taller."
     Steve becomes a propaganda tool, serving as "Captain America" to promote sales of war bonds and pro-war newsreels. He'd rather be on the front lines, but still, he tries to do the best job selling patriotism and pride and everything that he can. That doesn't always mean he succeeds, however.
     After getting heckled mercilessly for his performance in front of a group of battle-scarred GIs, he's frustratedly drawing a picture of himself as a dancing monkey. That's when Peggy tells him that his audience was all that was left of a company decimated by Nazis, with most killed and the rest taken prisoner. Hearing that it's Bucky's unit, Steve immediately goes on an emergency rescue mission with Peggy and Howard's help. He basically single-handedly rescues the prisoners; a big shootout ensues, Schmidt and his henchman scientist Dr. Zola blow up the factory. One of the prisoners says just after rescue, "Wait...you know what you're doing?" "Yeah. I've knocked out Hitler over 200 times."
Or when he finds Bucky: "Steve?"
"Come on, I thought you were dead."
"I thought you were smaller."
"I joined the Army!"
"Is it permanent?"
"So far." The fact that this dialogue is occurring as they're escaping amid explosions adds to its greatness. As Bucky and Steve are escaping, and just before Schmidt jettisons the inferno, he reveals himself to be the Red Skull, taunting Cap. "What makes you so special?" "Nothing. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn." That sums up his Everyman-ness, the fact that he'd take on a bully for disrespecting the flag in a movie, who has a job to do, and who will do his best to get it done.
     Several days later, Steve leads the prisoners back to base camp, much to the cheers of everyone else. Col. Phillips begins to think maybe Dr. Erskine was right, Peggy is quietly satisfied, and the world's press goes crazy. So does a secretary, who tries to seduce Steve. Peggy, not understanding, walks in on her smooching Steve, he's trying to escape. Howard shows several new weapons for him to try, he picks up a shiny round prototype made of vibranium. "What'd you think?" She picks up a pistol and empties it straight into his head, protected by the shield, then says sweetly, "Yes, I think it works." Howard and Steve stare astounded at each other.
     Finally out on the lines and now armed with his signature accessory, Cap and his special team begin hunting down and eliminating HYDRA bases. And they're very successful at it, too. In a raid on a high-speed train in the Alps, they capture Zola, but Bucky plummets off a cliff.
     Zola gives the Allies the location of the secret base, during which this exchange happens:
Col. Phillips: "Sit down, I brought you some dinner."
"What is that?"
"Steak."
"What's in it?"
"Cow." Col. Phillips has a ton of great lines, he kind of reminds me a bit of my math teacher Mr. Shamblin.
   
     So they raid the base, Schmidt makes for his massive and extremely lethal bomber plane, Rogers, Phillips and Carter chasing him in Schmidt's car down this runway. Steve's getting ready to jump. "Wait!" Peggy yells, then kisses him, hard. "Go get him." Steve looks surprised, asking "What just happened?" with a puzzled frown at the Colonel. "I'm not kissing you."
     He then leaps onto the plane, there's a big fight, Schmidt is vaporized by Odin or somebody through the tesseract, and the plane's autopilot is taking it towards New York(Where else?), with bombs aimed for nearly every other major city in the world, including Chicago and Berlin. No way to control it in any way; moving too fast, far too much momentum, and half the engines gone.

"There's not gonna be a safe landing, but I can try to force it down."
Peggy, pleading from the other end of the radio: "I'll - I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do." "There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water."
"Please don't do this. W-we have time. We can work it out."
"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die. (Pause) Peggy, this is my choice." (She nods, he aims plane towards Earth) "Peggy..."
"I'm here."
"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance." (Col. Phillips walks off, leaving them alone)
"All right. A week next Saturday at the Stork Club."
"You've got it."
"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"
"You know, I still don't know how to dance."
(With tears in her eyes) "I'll show you how. Just be there." 
(Plane is about to crash) "We'll have the band play something slow...I'd hate to step on your..."
(Static, Col. Phillips bows his head)
"Steve? Steve...? (She starts sobbing)

     I know that's a lot of dialogue to include, but it works so well.
     After being asleep in a coma or suspended animation or something for nearly seventy years, Steve wakes up, panics and bolts into modern-day New York, near Times Square. S.H.I.E.L.D Director Nick Fury comes up to him, explains briefly what's going on. "You gonna be okay?" Fury finishes. "Yeah... Yeah. It's just...I had a date."  And then the movie ends. Perfect ending; a cliffhanger, but so emotionally packed, leaving so much to ponder and think over later.

     Of course, he was back in The Avengers, and Captain America: Winter Soldier comes out next May. But that's where this story ends.