Go Read A Book

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A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul. ~Franz Kafka

1/3 of high school graduates never read another book for the rest of their lives. Many do not even graduate from high school.

58% of the US adult population never reads another book after high school.

42% of college graduates never read another book.

80% of US families did not buy or read a book last year.

70% of US adults have not been in a bookstore in the last five years.

57% of new books are not read to completion.

Stats found at http://www.parapublishing.com

Advertising Helps Me Decide

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The Steve has a shirt that proudly explains "Advertising Helps Me Decide". Just how much does advertising influence us?

Viva La Computadora

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My beloved, my firstborn, died Friday night rather unexpectedly...

Yes, my 12" Powerbook decided to eat itself the other night. They say children are the image of their parents, and this case seems to prove it. Annoyingly, it decided to croak at pretty much the worst possible moment for me. Pretty much giving me the middle finger. You see, it decided to bite the dust as I was finishing up what I would be teaching on Sunday which meant that I had to retype a bunch of stuff on Saturday. I wasn't pleased. The culprit of this catastrophic system failure? According to the computer demigods, The Steve and The Eric, my video RAM and logic board are kaput. Most likely due to the high levels of heat that have been associated with the laptops. It used to get extremely hot during gaming, video editing, even just having Microsoft Word and iTunes open.

The sad thing was that it had just met it's new younger brother. Little Pan is new to our household and yet we love him so very much.

Let me introduce Panasonic's new 50" plasma TV displaying in 1080p. That right there is a little game we like to call Gears Of War which looks phenomenal in HD. I've also been playing Super Mario Bros. on it, in all of it's pixelated glory. The Koopa Troopas are like the size of my fist!

Rachelle and I are back to sharing a computer at the moment. Sometimes I browse the internet on the Wii but that Opera browser on there has been a bit buggy. Hopefully I will soon be posting about a replacement child in the near future.

I Welcome Our New Rulers

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Have you ever looked into the face of a god and said to yourself, "I think I could take'em!"? Perhaps I spin of the impossible. Not because there is no god, but rather because we have set them up so that it would be impossible; and therefore have already lost if we were ever put in a position where it would be essential to, to use the common vernacular, "bodog a god".

Let's set our sights lower then. Maybe not a "god" per se, perhaps a demigod. A man or woman with a fiery look about them that you knew was not of this earth. Certainly there was some sort of cosmic knocking of the boots that hewed them from their fleshy progenitors. Have you ever looked into the face of a demigod and said to yourself, "I think I could take'em!"? Of course you have. I don't believe there is a man, woman, or child on the planet who hasn't. The reason: handguns.

The 28th Amendment clearly states that, "Every citizen able, willing or not, to carry a handgun must do so in order to thwart the ever increasing threat of demigods aka 'freaks'". It is our moral and national obligation to send these sons and daughters of the pantheon back to Hades... with extreme prejudice. What? You say the complex loading mechanism is too difficult for your toddler to handle? If The Simpsons have taught us anything, it's that a piece of wood with a nail in it is sufficient to drive away an evil alien overlord. Even sharpening their beloved linkin logs into miniature stakes can be an effective tool.

Don't think of it as an obligation, it is though, rather think of it as a joyful expression of patriotism. Nothing says "God Bless America" like a decapitated Cupid at your feet. You may be thinking what I'm thinking. Whose going to clean up all this blood and the sheer volume of limbs strewn about? A recently discovered avian species, pigeonis giganticus, are being sailed into port. One Longshoreman was quoted to have said, "Whooooaa, that's a big pigeon". He later slipped and fell into one of the bird's droppings which was the size of a Buick. His memorial will be held Friday.

The Whale Spat Me Back Out

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The rustling of keys is heard along with muffled profanity from outside the door.

The door finally squeaks open, displaying an emaciated gentlemen with a bowler cap under one arm and fist tightly clinching the handle of a worn, leather attache case.

He stumbles into his living room, tripping over the steamer trunk he used for a coffee table. It was all he had to use since Marigold left him.

Collecting himself, he surveyed the surroundings that he had once know so well. Now foreign to him.

He straightenedup, which to the casual observer had the effect of an increase in height no less than one half inch, and said, "
I havn't always been faithful. I have, in fact, behaved rather caddishly. But, we will always have each other."

It was obvious he had been rehearsing the speech, but the room was happy none the less.

Now Is the Winter Of My Discontent

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I just wanted to let everyone know that I will be going away this weekend to help out with the high school winter camp. Yes, I get to leave our nice weather for a place far more snow-filled. I've never been a huge fan of snow, or cold places in general. The fact that I don't really have any clothing appropriate for snow doesn't help much either. Anyway, I have work to do before we leave at 4pm, so I bid you adieu.

Options

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I foresee options ahead of me in my career. The previous 4 weeks I have been teaching a lot. Last Sunday I taught for an hour on the Book of Acts to a more mature audience than I’m used to in high school ministry. I think the youngest person, other than me of course, was in their 40’s and the oldest in their 70’s. When I came in, no one thought I was the teacher. (They probably thought I was there to set up the powerpoint projector or something). I’ve never taught adults for a solid hour before, it was interesting. Maybe the most astounding thing was that the people actually wanted to listen to me. They were giving me their undivided attention, meanwhile I’m used to high schoolers who are text messaging their friends, talking, sleeping, eating, generally not paying attention. I was nervous in the beginning, but soon I kind of sunk into it. I think the people got something out of it. I had printed copies of my powerpoint slides for everyone so they wouldn’t have to write everything all out. When I had finished I had a few people come up and ask some questions on the text and thank me for coming. Work at church has been going well, I think.

From that teaching, I had a adjunct professor at Biola ask me to help him out as a teacher’s assistant for some of his ESL classes. I have worked as a TA before, grading papers and all that. It’s not glamorous work, really it’s a pain in the ass. Grading 30 horrible 6-8 page papers when you need to write two 8 page papers of your own is not that fun. But, it is work in the educational system like I have been interested in doing in the long run.

I’ve contemplated working as a chaplain. As I get closer to finishing my MDiv, I have thought about the possibility of working as a hospital chaplain. I have never really done much work in this area, therefore I doubt my abilities a great deal. I see all the ways I’m unqualified, the major one is that the average age of the hospital chaplain in America is 60 years old. It’s hard to help people, or rather it’s hard to convince people you can help them when they are 35 years older than you. That’s just reality. I think a way that I can bypass all that is a hospital like CHOC, Children’s Hospital of Orange County. In a hospital devoted to children and teens, I am in a far better place than a 60 year old to help. Rachelle did clinicals at CHOC last semester and said their chaplain had quit and they were looking for another. The only problem is I need to finish my degree before they will hire me. I want to see if I’m even cut out for this kind of work, so I am going to ask our Care Pastor, in charge of weddings, funerals, chaplain for Whittier PD, etc., if I can tag along with him. Maybe get my feet wet a bit.

Dapper

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I havn't posted any of my new shirt acquisitions in a while, and boy have there been acquisitions!

Biblical Disater















This is one of the shirts that made me love Threadless from the moment I found it. Unfortuneatly, the shirt was sold out and so I wasn't able to get it. Thank god for reprints, now this baby is mine. I can't wait to wear it to work.

No room for unicorns.

destroy NYC


















I'm not sure what drew me to this design. I like the precision in the drawing of the buildings mixed with doodle monsters that are destroying the city.

Bring her down boys.

Get Some Fresh Air













TV is a foul creation. I am ridiculed for playing video games by people who spend hours watching TV and freak out when they miss an episode. At least games have some sort of interation. Seriously though, I'm going to lay down some truth for everyone. Jack Bauer, and the whole show "24", is f-ing terrible. I know your reading this and saying as The Dude might, "Well that's, like, your opinion, man". No, the show is crap. But don't worry, everything else you watch on TV is complete and utter shite as well. Now your asking, "Well then what do you watch?" Any good TV show I like I have on dvd, there is only one show that I do really like to watch. Are you prepared for the... METALOCALYPSE!!!!!!

Confabulated Memory


















Most of the time my memory feels like this image. Remembering one thing, which brings up another, then eventually brings up a girl, which brings up other memories. I was unsure of this shirt at first, the image on the shirt is huge. A bit different than I usually get, maybe that's why I got it. Plus it was free.

A Preacher

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Pardon my blog hiatus the last 2 weeks. I was writing and preparing sermons for the high school group the last 2 Sundays. Preaching isn’t something that I do often, actually I never do it. Two weeks ago was my very first time preaching outside of a classroom. I was nervous.

Why do I get nervous? This is something that I have spent considerable thought on. I hear that 90% of people have a fear of public speaking. I can understand that, no one likes being put on the spot. I used to think that I was just nervous to speak in front of any group of people.

Hold on, let me discuss what I mean when I say “nervous”. Before I would preach in class, I would feel physically ill from the day before to the day of speaking. This would include a giant stomachache as well as lower back pain; I feel terrible. I have told Rachelle that if I had to preach each week that I would have an ulcer. That is what I mean when I say nervous.

I found that my hypothesis about speaking in front of groups was completely false last year when I had to preach to only one person, my professor. Sure, you can make the argument that speaking in front of the prof. is just as stressful as an entire class but I don’t think that was the case for me. That was when I began to think about why I was so scared, if it wasn’t the number of people then what was it?

I know why I get scared now. I am afraid I will teach some falsehood; and by doing so lead a person into a wrong understanding of God. Do I think I will actually do this? I want to say no, but obviously there is a part of me that doesn’t agree.

The last two weeks have been a great validation for me. Stressful, painful, tiring… but still validating.

Hard Days Night

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Sorry, I havn't been able to post in a while. I've been extremely busy this past week, but I don't have time right now to get into it. Posts will be coming soon, as soon as I'm not getting home at 11pm.

A Pox On Both Your Houses

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A pox update for everyone who wants a peek at my hideously disfigured visage. The pictures really don't do it justice, but here they are. The first picture below is from yesterday and the latter is from today.Yesterday


Today

I made this comment on Eric's blog today and considering it was long enough to be its own blog, I thought I'd toss it in down here:

Ok, I can't really go to a movie right now being sick and all. I must admit though, I have been sorely tempted to go to "The Crappiest Place On Earth", Disneyland, and infect as many unsuspecting children as I can with the plague I carry. Oh, so you thought it would be a good idea to take your newborn to Disneyland before its had its 1 year vaccinations.... you chose poorly.

This may stem from a long held desire to be the first to bear a virus that would annihilate the population of the Earth as we know it and they name it after me. News Reporter says, "Sey is killing thousands of people by the day, and there looks to be no end in sight for Sey's rampage". Yea, that would be cool.

But I'm sure a more fitting disease would be some bacteria/virus that was persistent, annoying, and popped up when you least expected it... like an STD. "Oh man, Sey is making me all itchy and red spots are appearing! And I have an appointment with the Bobs' in 20 minutes... what do I do?" I would only ruin their social life and make them feel inadequate, sounds about right.

"The Tree" part 2

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I thought I would add some more writing from my short stories, seeing how I'm pretty much stuck at home all the time right now. For those who didn't read the beginning, go ahead and click here.

Even in its sad state, far from the grandeur it had once basked in, it still loomed over me ominous and unforgiving. As I beheld it my instincts screamed at me, demanding that I bow in fear or cower and pay tribute. But my heart was not filled with fear, instead I felt a great sadness. I became strangely aware of the silence that engulfed the area surrounding the Tree. A morose feeling of loneliness that is felt when one living thing is cut off from all other life. I strained to hear just a simple chirp of a far off bird, the sad howling of a solitary wolf, or even the droning of a summer cicada. Nothing. Then I heard it, or rather I realized for the first time what had always been there. A sound, deep and billowing at once and high and screeching at others. I spun around in place trying to pinpoint the origin of the hideous melody and found that it came from all around me. It was the voice of the forest, unrecognizable in any linguistic form, yet I understood; the same way one can tell a couple in an adjacent room are fighting through the muffled voices. We trust the walls to hold the silent secret words that we never want strangers to hear, yet they can never hide the anger, lust, betrayal, and overall depravity in life. I heard weeping, like that of a mother agonizing over a child taken from this world too soon, from the old willows neighboring the dead river. Proud mocking coming from a grove of young upstart Oak trees, barely fifty rings of age. The Ash reveled in their new blooms and flaunted the Wisteria that hung from the branches in clusters of striking blue and purple that infested the trees like some beautiful disease. I was disgusted by it all yet something inside me demanded my gaze remain. Was it simply that beauty be recognized or the fear of offending a creator that could conceive of such things, I did not know.

Viruela De Pollo

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So the results of my Mexico trip just keep getting better. The last day we were in Mexico, as we embarked on our long trip home, I began to feel sick. I was sure it was a cold, from all the freezing nights, early mornings, and non-stop activities. But when I got home I didn't feel congested, instead I felt achy, feverish, and had a headache. Great, I'm getting the flu; but it wasn't like any flu I had ever had. The symptoms came on gradually over days rather than hours and I didn't feel nauseated. I knew something was wrong with me but I had no idea what it was. Well, I found out today that I have Chicken pox. We were joking that I had some crazy form of Mexican Pollo Pox. Whatever the case, I was never infected with it as a child and now I'm going to pay for it.

Mexico: And All Things South Of The Border

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It would take too long to describe all that happened in during my week in Mexico, so here are the highlights:

5 minutes into Tijuana I get pulled over by the Federales who try to shake me down for money, $125 to be exact. I was accused of going 100km/h when I was in fact going 60 km/h, the officers let me go shortly after they discovered I had a grand total of $15.

Driving through a muddy, rain soaked field on the way from the beach I hydroplane the rental car into a barbed wire fence.

Feliz ano nuevo! For New Years we went to "El Pollo Loco" (not the same one you're thinking of on the corner). It is a taco shack around Vincente Guerrero in which the 47 of us made the place burst at the seams. While there one of our students inadvertantly made friends with an old drunk man that wandered up. The man belligerently waved his left hand ordering tacos for the student while he squeezed him close with his right.

A fellow driver takes a bump too fast and rips the entire rear bumper off his rental car. We left the bumper in Mexico.

Getting chewed out by a Mormon missionary who said we were driving too fast through a neighborhood.

Driving through a military checkpoint on the way home I, of 8 cars, am the only one in which the driver is questioned and asked to get out of the car while the guard proceeds to knock on the plastic doors looking for contraband.

Taking 1 shower.

The Night Before Christmas...

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And all through the house, not a creature was stirring except Ryan playing Wii like some demented mouse.

Merry Christmas everyone.

I've always been more of the bahumbug sort. Truth be told I much rather write about other things, so I will.

The Shirt Off My Back

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The fine people at Threadless.com have been running a contest over the last few months; dangling a giant carrot in front of the noses is more like it. The Threadless 365 contest gives anybody who signs up a shot to win over 550 shirts (each shirt being $15= $8250.00) plus all longsleeve and sweatshirts which bumps the winnings to more than $10,000. Yea, not too shabby.

I wake this morning to a beautiful email that capped off finals week perfectly. I had been randomly selescted from thousands of people to be one of the top 10 finalists for the contest. If you are actually going to the links, I am the second name from the top, "packoutsandwich". That's right Jeff, Threadless got a big pack out sandwich. "Pack out sandwich" has been an inside joke between Jeff and I for going on 6 years now and this breathed new life into our sad expression.

The winners were chosen tonight through a video in which Santa unwrapped our names in presents and the last gift to be opened was the winner. Sadly, I did not win, but its hard to be upset over something you put absolutely no effort into. Ooh, I do get parting gifts though. I'm not sure what I will get but the 9 who were not picked were promised "great consolation prizes". I'm thinking we will probably get a free subscription to the 12 Club, which is a program where you get a special shirt each month and costs $200.

My interterm is starting off on the right foot! Now if you will excuse me, my Wii won't play itself.

Rybear Vs. La Mirada

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The city of La Mirada is a tool. Actually, to be more specific a city is incapable of being a "tool", but like any institution it is only as great as those who run it. La Mirada is therefore a toolbox, housing the public officials, the "tools", within it's hollow tin chest. Now my vernacular is not by chance, that particular derogatory comment was specifically chosen due to it's unique description.

I'm just going to lay that out right from the start, whether or not you agree matters not because it is true and you would therefore be wrong. The logic is flawless.

My first run in with a La Mirada official was when I attempted to help Paul, David, Micah and the rest of the W. Nile Crew as "the man" attempted to bring them down. I must admit, the reason the official was called out in the first place was valid. It all began when a neighbor complained that the guys had put a couch on the roof, which they had done so they could read in the sun. I stand by my friends' decision. But when he got there he proceeded to ding them for having a gravel driveway, grass that was not all green, too many cars in the driveway, and the inability to park 2 cars in the garage. You read correctly, the city of La Mirada has written in it's bylaws that you must be able to park 2 cars in your garage at all times. Now, I understand that we all have a job to do and sometimes that forces us to be the bad guy. As the "Bad Guy" you can either accept this knowledge and try to be as cool as possible and hope the people are cool too or you can purposely be a jerk who quotes the letter of the law no matter how ridiculously mundane while upholding the integrity of his institution as if it were some unattainable goddess, a.k.a. a tool. This official was a tool of the highest caliber. As we tried to reason with him about the garage, which had actually been a home made sound proof room from the previous tenants who were in a band called Anthym. We asked him how many people he thought could actually park 2 full size cars in their garage. "I'd say 90%" was his response, meanwhile their neighbor had 2 jetskis on a trailer blocking entrance to his garage, also against the rules but you didn't see the official doing anything about it.

The drama moves closer to home. So, the citizens of my street, or at least 2/3 of them, saw fit to inact what La Mirada calls the "Preferential Parking Program" on our street. Under this system, only cars registered to people living on the street are able to receive a parking permit that enables them to leave a car parked curbside. Unless you have a permit you are unable to park on my street no matter what time or day. The campaign was spearheaded by old people who have nothing better to do and no one visiting them, soccer moms who have nothing better to do and no one visiting them, and pathetic broken men who cannot think for themselves and no one would ever want to visit. If people come over unexpectedly, they're pretty much boned unless they can fit in the driveway or I give them my parking pass, which by the way is against the rules. In order for visitors to park on the curb they must have a "Temporary Parking Pass" which you must go down to the Public Safety office to get and is valid for one day. The last time Rachelle went down there to get 15 parking passes the women complained that she was too busy to do them, bear in mind that all that is on these permits is my address, the date, and the officials signature. That's it. Those 15 passes took over 30 minutes to make, and Rachelle was told she needed to "call ahead next time if you want that many passes" because Rachelle had chosen "the busiest time of the day". All the lady was doing was answering phones.

This morning Rachelle had some friends from work come by for a big Christmas Breakfast Party; they're all night shift people so they do weird stuff like a party at breakfast. Saturday evening I went and got 15 passes which were no longer hand written. This time they wrote out one and then photocopied 15 which was fine by me. But, I thought her party was Sunday morning and told him the date was 12/10 rather than the 12/11 it actually was. We really didn't think anything of it, writing a "1" over the "0" believing it a waste of our time as well as Public Safety's for us to go back and make them photocopy more. Rachelle's friends begin to arrive and they place the photocopied permits in their cars while I blissfully slumber. But my bliss was short lived because Rachelle wakes me up to tell me that her friends are getting tickets. I go outside and the Public Safety officer tells me that one of the neighbors complained people were parking on the street because, like I said, my neighbors have no freaking life. The officers first complaint was that the permits were photocopies, which we said, "Yea that's what you gave us". To be honest the officer, as I have stated above, was inadvertantly the "bad guy" and was merely doing what he was told from his supervisor, which he called about the situation. I wasn't mad at him, I understoood he was a mere pawn in the game of deception La Mirada was playing. He apologized, saying he couldn't take back the five $40 tickets he had already written but that he wouldn't write anymore. I immediately went down to the Public Safety office and asked for 15 permits and to talk to whoever was in charge. As the girl began to write out a permit one of the others said, "Don't we just photocopy them, that's what I always do?" which made me chuckle. The boss came out, a short Asian woman who looked like she was ready for a fight. But I was not angry and remained polite yet forceful as I pointed out the logical flaws in their system of doing things in relation to their purpose/the purpose of the permits. I admitted up front that I had mistakenly said the wrong day and changed the date, having never used them on the 10th, because I thought it a waste of both our time and reources to come back for more photocopies. The whole time I spoke or tried to make a point she would slowly shake her head like she was saying "No" to everything I said. "By changing the day, you tampered witha binding legal document. Could you do that on your Federal Taxes"? In my head I was thinking please leave your straw man arguments out of this and I replied that the two are not remotely the same. When I said that I didn't want to waste their time she stopped me and said, "Oh no, its not a waste of time. We're open 12 hours each day to be here for you and the purpose of the permit parking is to serve you, so you should have come back and gotten more permits". I replied, "How exactly does issuing tickets to the people who live on the street, the very ones you say you are here for, a service to me"? She gave some BS answer and said there was nothing she could do and she would not rescind the tickets, thereby displaying the toolish symptoms we had spoken of earlier.

I, being the gracious person that I am, have decided that I really should take the Public Safety office up on the generous amount of time and resources they have allocated to serving me. Therefore, starting tomorrow I will be going to the Public Safety office everyday and obtaining the maximum amount of Temporary Parking Permits allowed (there appears to be no set number currently according to the city's bylaws).
The objective:
To have the tickets cleared or allow the city of La Mirada to serve me, like they said they want to do, so much that I take up enough resources and man hours that it would have been cheaper to simply rescind the tickets in the first place.

One Day Left

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I just got out of my Theology final and bbq'd it. Only studied for 45 minutes and was the 10th person done in a class of 60. As of tomorrow I will be finished with my Finals. The agenda tonight is to finish a paper and study for a test at noon. Funny thing is, I'm strangely optimistic about it. Normally in situations like this I would chalk it up to delerium, seeing how I have only slept 8 hours in the last 2 days. I guess I'm just happy to have another semester behind me and one step closer to graduation... but at what cost? Last night I was forced to use an unholy means in order to aid me in my studies: Starbucks. Yes I have fallen from grace indeed, allowing those vultures into my wallet and my very soul. And before you ask, it was a Peppermint Mocha.

End Of Semester

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I thought I better post and say that I'm still alive. I've been busy trying to get done all the end of semester papers while working and staying up all night playing Halo 2 with High School kids.

I've also been extremely tired. I can't stay up to work on these papers late at night , after putting in a full day of work or classes, if my life depended on it. Gone are the days of the almighty all-nighter.

I haven't been able to talk to any of my friends. I haven't been able to play any of my new Wii, which I wanted to unveil properly on here but, alas, there is no time for it.

Next week is finals, then it will be over. I will be free.

To my friends... look to my coming on the first light of the fifth day, at dawn look to the east.

Graduation '07??

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It's that wonderful time of the semester once again, pre-registration. I've been looking rather closely at my curriculum chart recently and it has come to my attention that I may be able to, with some finagling, graduate next semster. Finally. It's not that I have been taking longer than normal for my Masters Degree, just that I went right from my Undergrad into Grad. I don't know about you, but 7 years of anything, let alone papers, tests, summer school, 3 hour classes, etc., is too much. Having said that, I've been throwing around the idead of doing a Th.M because I'm a glutton for punishment. I've also thought about the D.Min but some schools like Talbot want you to have 3 years of ministry under your belt before they will accept you. I guess that's not a bad thing, otherwise you're giving someone a Doctorate who may never have spent day one in the ministry.

I mentioned that some "finagling" is necessary, let me explain. I am going to see about getting a class written off because I had it as an Undergrad but only got a "B" so it didn't transfer. I will have to take a class this interterm. Then I am trying to get into 14 units of classes for the Spring, two of which are Greek classes. I should add that 3 of these Spring classes are already closed, and the Interterm one may be as well. One other tricky matter is a 2 unit internship class that I can only take in the Fall, which means I have to get that figured out with my Academic Advisors. If by some chance all these things get done, then I will be graduating this Spring.

The unavoidable question arises, "What will you do after graduation"? Sadly, that is a question I am still unable to answer. I like working at the church, but will that turn from a part-time job to a full-time job? That's the million dollar question.