06.20.01 >2100

Three hilarious things I must tell you in relation to the little walk Mir and I took earlier this evening, when it finally did cool down : we live in a suburban area where all the streets are named after girls. I live on Kathy Court; the cul-de-sac the next block over is named Juliet. To get to the main road that leads downtown, you have get on to Norma Way; the elementary school a few blocks away is on Irene Street. I would like to find a city someday where a neighborhood has streets named after boys!

Mir and I walked past this house that has an automatic sprinkler system, and it turned on just as we passed by. I turned around a moment later to find it watering the street; it missed the lawn by about four feet.

Behind the aforementioned elementary school is a pretty wide arroyo, and beyond that is Charlotte Way. A small, wooden bridge spans the arroyo and connects the school to Charlotte; well, me and Mir were crossing this bridge during a detour home when a kid on this street bike comes racing towards us, heading in the opposite direction. "Sorry," he called, as we quickly moved towards one side of the bridge to let him pass. "I'm trying to run away from my teacher!"


To see all the rainbows in a drop of water . . .

So if there's a countless number of rainbows in a single drop of water, what must be at the end of each one?

A friend suggested love.

Perhaps that is why your sweetheart tenderly kisses away your tears every time you weep.


blog of the week : keith brown

quote of the week : "If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life a sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility." -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

verse of the week shall return shortly, when I'm no longer feelin' bad. I didn't see the point in posting verses here when outside of my blog I still have a swearing habit to contend with and a half-dead spiritual life I still need to organize. Yeah, say one thing outside of this page and say something else here; that'd make a lot of sense. q.o.t.w. shall replace w.o.t.w. until further notice. I got a little tired of some of the nonsensical words yourdictionary.com was shootin' at me. 'Sides, quotes are a lot more thought-provoking, if you choose the right ones.


Too many books to read, so little time. Ack!

Was digging through a box of my stuff earlier and came across some of the indek cards I'd used during my Greex language class. Which reminds me - oh, never mind. *grin* A secret language wouldn't be secret anymore if I told ya how it worxed.


Now I know why they call it "Spring Cleaning." Do not ever try to clean your garage in 97-degree weather!


If I ever said anything about me liking to clean, I was lying. Don't get me wrong - once I get into a clean mood, I'll clean 'til the whole place is spic and span, but that doesn't mean I like doing it. It's just necessary, ya know?

Oh, and did I ever mention that I absolutely hate hot and humid weather? Gimme fog and rain any day!

I would love to visit a ghost town someday. Not to entertain the ghosts or anything (though I don't believe in ghosts), but to explore and perhaps let my imagination have free rein of the place. There are plenty around across the state and across the country, for that matter. In fact, I just found out about China Camp, which is pretty close to the Marin-Napa border. Whoohoo!

06.19.01 >1604

Saoirse is the Irish word for "freedom." I used to see this word around at AS as a name, but it's also great in other contexts.

A passage from 1921 that's worth noting here :

Henry took Ella to Jammet's, at the corner of Andrew Street and Church Lane, which advertised as "Dublin's Only French Restaurant." The main dining room contained famous allegorical paintings of the Four Seasons. Henry showed off by introducing Ella to several of the well-known artists and writers who patronized the place. She acknowledged each politely, but as the evening wore on he realized that she was unimpressed by fame. "I don't think life should be a competition to see who can make the biggest name for themselves," she told him. "I try to paint myself, but I think the people who appreciate art - or books, or music - are every bit as valuable as the artists. I think that's why God made man - to appreciate his creation."
Ella is a wealthy Protestant. Henry is a poor Catholic. This coupling is something akin to a Romeo and Juliet tale, only it seems more real, and there is really no hatred between the Protestants and Catholics just yet. This lady has a wonderful heart.


At times I feel like Shakespeare; at other times I feel like a plain ole poet.

What's the first thought that pops into your head when you look up at a starlit sky? I have been fascinated with Astronomy since I started reading sci-fi. I dunno what exactly is so wonderful about the realm of deep space, stars and worlds, but several things pop into my head when it comes to space : first is what Mustafa told his son in The Lion King about the great kings who watch over them. Second is the infinite possibilities that can be dreamed of, and the many questions that I'm sure only God can answer : what kinds of worlds are out there? Why do black holes exist? Third is the beauty of the celestial heavens. Fourth is that the wonder of stars exist at all in time.

Call me a dreamer, for that is what I truly am.


I don't know whether it's this heat or the slow rate that my body's trying to adjust to a new sleeping schedule, but I am freakin' tired and wishing I wasn't.

Back on my iMac is a personal essay I wrote during my first year of college after reading a book on the religious conflicts happening across the world. The book had a title that was totally ironic, if not somewhat cynical : Holy Hatred. In many ways I'm glad I read this book, but in many other ways, I also wish I hadn't.

Religion and hate make up such a paradoxical combination that the fact that we are having religious wars at all is just plain krazy. The way that some extremely religious factions wage war against their brothers who believe in the same God they do in the name of God is absolutely sickening. Puh-LEEZE, get a life!

06.18.01 >2131

I am two-thirds of the way through 1921 and am completely riveted by this book. The story of its predecessor was shown through the eyes of Ned Halloran, the fictional aide-de-camp to Patrick Henry Pearse during the 1916 Easter Rising. This one is shown through the eyes of Henry Mooney, Ned Halloran's best friend and one of the journalists who covers the Irish War for Independence and the civil war that follows.

I have felt a surprising amount of empathy for the Irish in this story and am really puzzled by it all. I'm not a nationalist, and I sure as heck ain't Irish. Maybe it's best to just accept it as empathy and leave it at that.

I hate imperialism. I think I am also beginning to hate the concept of empires. I am not fond of dictators and/or tyrants. The choice words I have in mind for 'em are unfit to print.


Don't bother me. I'm dreaming.


Last night was wonderful and hilarious - and all around fun! It was Grad Night at the church I go to here in Livermore, and my brother was one of the people bein' honored during the evening service. They haven't really had something like this before, but then again, I don't think they've ever had ten of their youth graduate all at once during the previous years. Each of the graduates got a chance to say something during the mini-dessert session after the "commencement" service, and it was touching to hear the memories, see the tears, and laugh along with them during the nervous moments.

Afterwards we went to In & Out to eat, and nearly had a food fight in the parking lot. Ah, teenagers. *grin*

06.16.01 >2205

Mulan is one of my favorite animated movies from Disney, if only because the main character must disguise herself as a boy to do a "hero's journey" bit; this theme was mirrored in another fantasy series that I read over and over again when I get the chance.

Now I ain't a die-hard feminist, but why do guys think us girls can't do some things? Is it 'cause we don't look muscular or probably seem too fragile?


This afternoon and evening have been pretty crazy. Us kids put together a few space savers (shelves, really, for the bathrooms), and then me and Mir started making leis for tomorrow. Candy leis. It's a tradition when Mother's Day, Father's Day and Grad Nite come around. We usually make 'em out of colored cellophane wrap and ribbon. They're a pain in the neck to make (and I mean literally), but we get lots of "oohs" and "ahhs" from people who've never seen 'em before. I've got a picture of me on the Friday night I graduated from high school, after the ceremony; my whole family came down from the stands to decorate me with one heckuva lot of candy leis. I kinda felt like my neck was about to fall off (believe me, you'll feel that way if you've got lots of leis hanging around your neck), but it was a pretty monumental moment. I'm pretty sure my brother will feel the same way next Friday.

And Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!


(Yes, this is rather late, but what'd you expect when you're working F/T and you live in a house with four other Net geeks??)

Pic of the Week

Can you say . . . APOCALYPSE?? (Hehe.) This is an awesome picture!


Today has been something of a lazy day so far, though we've done some cleaning to get ready for next Friday. This week will be hectic, though, 'cause we'll probly do a large bulk of the real cleaning through Thursday. Oh, joy.

Started reading 1921 last night, and I was nearly reluctant to; 1916 is a book I still hold in high regard, so hopefully the sequel will be just as good.

06.15.01 >2027

The past two days have taught me a pretty good lesson : I am not great receptionist material. Even though my bosses kept telling me I was doing a great job, I knew I really sucked at it. Hopefully Monday I get a new assignment.

Well, I am grinning like a big idiot, and I've a good reason to : a package which was half-surprise, half-expected arrived today while I was at work. A million thanks, Lee! Now I don't have to come home every weekend this coming school semester just to watch Episode I. Heehee . . .

06.13.01 >2243

I feel like a little kid who's been sent to bed early as punishment - with dinner, though. I'm feelin' restless, a little edgy, just a tad worried, and who knows what else. Tomorrow I start my job bright and early at the temp agency, and I was pretty surprised to get one so fast after my interview earlier today. But with this agency, I guess that's not really a surprise. Or shouldn't be, anyway. Still, I dunno what to expect. Little clerical jobs I'm fine with, but playing receptionist? Ummm . . . that's a different story!


blog of the week : egomaniac.nu (This dude rocks! Happy Graduation, Kian!)

And speaking of graduation . . . I've no idea what my parents have in mind for cleaning, but this weekend is the first of a hectic four-part series of weekends. For this weekend (drumroll, please) we begin cleaning house for the really large post-grad party that my family will be throwing for my brother next Friday after the ceremony. I dunno if my bro's gonna hate it or what - the only part I will hate will be the cleaning itself, before and after the party. But during the party? I can't wait! It seems like only when there's a graduation that all of my relatives and church family can get together under one roof. Whoohoo!



It is "eagerness and ardent interest in pursuit of something." (Your word for the week.)

And in the meantime, I think I've lost my train of thought about this word. *sigh* Hate it when that happens . . .

06.12.01 >2155

We interrupt this rant on zeal to bring you the following poem! (And whether or not McVeigh ruined a perfectly good piece of prose is not in question right now - just enjoy the poem, sans yesterday's implications.)


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley, 1875
A question posed by Shelly regarding a longstanding practice of the KKK, and it's a question I don't have an answer to and am now tryin' to figure out myself : By the way - what the *hell* is a burning cross supposed to represent? I never understood the point of that at all. Why would you set a cross on fire? When I was little, I thought KKK people were Satanists because they did that. Of course, I suppose I'm not too far off the mark. ;) Umm, does anybody know??


L.T. and I talked for a little bit about zeal yesterday. Zeal, for the most part, can be misunderstood or downright spurned if it's not used in the right context. Lemme explain before you start thinking that I'm whacko (even though some of you might already think that!) : this phrase, "religious zeal," is possibly the most hated phrase someone ever wants to hear. Religion and zeal do not go well together - once zeal catches on to that "R" word, trouble is bound to follow. Admit it. Religious ZEALOTS are probably the last brand of folk that you'd ever want to associate with. For one thing, they are not at all afraid to make total fools of themselves in order to get their message across to the masses. For another thing, they just seem plain weird! Some of them even get killed or do the killing.

But zeal in the good sense of the word (hehe, yer probably thinking, "Yeah, right! That word is good?") is healthy for the Soul, if your beliefs have a solid foundation, and if you channel it in the right way. (Is any of this making sense so far?)

Paul was just that - a religious zealot. Before his conversion, he was zealous for the Mosaic Law; after his conversion, he was zealous for Christ. He is possibly one of the most controversial figures in Biblical history, only because his zeal sets him apart from the typical sort of believer that lived during the days of the early church.

Zeal, ya'll. It is not as bad as it seems.


I have been runnin' around campus all day, feeling restless, useless, losing and gaining hope all during the space of a few seconds, and I'm wondering if it's getting me anywhere.

06.11.01 >2108


I've got three stories skipping in bits and snatches through my head, a book waiting to be read on my desk, two newspapers, and I'm wondering if I should call my friend just to chat. No, I'm not suffering from boredom - believe me, I've got plenty to keep me occupied! But which activity should I tackle first? Ack, decisions, decisions!

Tomorrow I'll be going to two separate buildings on-campus to check out my job options; they involve two completely opposite activites : one has to do with gardening, the other office work. Either or both sound like something up my alley right now, to tell ya the truth. I don't think I can sit around at home waiting anymore.


Tim pretty much summed up the whole McVeigh execution deal in his usual eloquent way. Not only that, but also the capital punishment issue, something I've been wrestling with since his appeals were denied - no, wait, even before that, when the original execution was postponed until today. I don't see how some people can feel anything akin to triumph or relief by watching somebody die, even if it's done in the name of justice. Check out this article from today's S.F. Chronicle, by the way - another excellent view on this controversial subject.


Timothy McVeigh was executed this morning. I don't feel any triumph in the wake of this event, if you thought that was how I'd feel after not showing any mercy towards him in one of my Friday posts. Every time someone mentions capital punishment, my thoughts return to a woman named Carla Faye Tucker. My Christian beliefs aside, I don't think it was right to execute her.

A little bit more on the whole racial/Confederate flag rant I posted yesterday. Forgive me if this continues to sound like a rant, but there're some things I don't understand :

1) How does having a different skin color make a person any less human?

2) Why must everybody be conformed to your idea of being "civilized"?

3) What gives you the right to make me a "second-class citizen" just because I don't have the same social standing or background or, as said before, skin color as you?

4) What the heck is up with this "minority group" thing? What makes a minority group in the first place?
Ahem. Thank you for listening. Sorry, had to get all that outta my system.


We went to Foster's Freeze after last night's service, and thankfully the rude performances of several of the youth weren't repeated. One of the older women joined us for ice cream, and it was a pleasure talking to her about, of all things, the rodeo! I may not remember this by June next year, but I am definitely gonna go to the 2002 Rodeo. We also talked about weddings, babies, horses, and drama; but one of the highlights of my evening was watching my 180+ lb. brother get beaten at arm-wrestling by a thin slip of a girl! Haha!

Check out the First-Century Diaries Series by Gene Edwards - it's a totally fantastic (and fictional) account of St. Paul's missionary journeys. The fourth book, The Priscilla Diary, just came out recently, and I snagged it on Saturday while we were at the Christian bookstore. The fifth and last book is due later this year or early next year.