surprised?

or disappointed? -_-'
you raised some good points to ponder.

wowsers

i never got to see the ending of our production. such is the life of AV guy. but i saw a grainy night-shot video of it and that was good enough for me. biggie props to the kitchen krew, the actors and actresses, the jugs, the snakes, the costume team, the writers, the directors, AV dudes, and whoever else i missed. biggest props of all goes to the Guy that made it happen, because, if you didn't notice, we weren't ready. we weren't prepared. we had nothing. and then things went wrong. but it still turned out. beyond what anyone ever expected.

i don't think that God was using this production solely for spreading His message. truth be told, i found the message of the play a bit lacking, written as it was by many people. the play was directed more towards already Christians. this was evident by the different reactions at the end of each night. friday's attendance was loaded with new people. a good 60% were unknown to the general congregation. saturday's was probably brimming with believers (this i can only hypothesize, as i was not there, though it is an informed hypothesis) and the general reactions reflected this.

from my perspective, God was using this experience to bolster our faith. a large percentage of the congregation participated, be it on stage or behind the scenes. an unprecedented number of people tucked their cloaks into their belts and put everything they had into this production, all in just a month of work. the drama only started to come together the night before. many scenes were untouched or stagnant or unmusiced because no one knew what was going on. yet things just started falling into place, even when they were falling apart. and i can't think of a conclusion because i'm doing calculus.

i've used

- every letter of the alphabet to start my post titles except x and z.
- a diaper pun to parallel a microsocietal pattern.
- chafing toilet paper
- a sundial
- a harmonica
- a graphing calculator to draw a rabbit
- a wireless mic to broadcast bathroom commentary.

syllogism

in the night you can only see what's not there.
the stars can shine through lightyears of space
but they cannot shine through clever black beaks.
thus, ravens will peck out your sightless eyes
and feast on the brains behind - a bold assumption.

wait,
am i to whisper to the winds that we are wed in our want
but wet behind the ears and early on the years?

i've been thinking...

about dropping the physics specialist and doubling up with english (on top of physics) instead. actually, i've more or less decided already and the only thing left to do is get approval from my program coordinator and sign up for some critical poetry analysis courses for the summer.

before, when people inquired as to what i do at school:
"what program are you in?"
"uhhh, physics?"
"oh. OHH. eew."

now, as i contemplate a drastic shift - i always have to be very careful in typing the word 'shift' - in academia with my physics brethren (as there are literally no sororal counterparts):
"so if you're not doing the specialist what are you going to minor in? math? compsci?"
"i think i'm going to double major with english."
"oh. OHH. eew."

i hope to be able to sythesize a postulate to the ramifications of the hidden multidimensions posited by string theory in limerick form and finish a crossword on quantum physics using ladder operators, in matrix representation, on a time-independent wavefunction with 26 eigenvalues, a-z.

We Will Become Silhouettes

i've got a cupboard with cans of food
filtered water and pictures of you
i'm not coming out til this is all over

and i'm looking throught the glass
where the light bends at the cracks
and i'm screaming at the top of my lungs
pretending the echoes belong to someone
someone i used to know

we've become
silhouettes when our bodies finally go

i wanted to walk through the empty streets
feel something constant under my feet
but all the news reports recommended that i stay indoors

because the air outside will make
our cells divide at an alarming rate
til our shells simply cannot hold
all our insides in
and that's when we'll explode
and it won't be a pretty sight

and we'll become
silhouettes when our bodies finally go...

Word of Yesterday: erstwhile

Erstwhile
adj. former
adv. formerly, in the past

...

4 RCMP officers were killed thursday morning during a marijuana grow-operation investigation in Rochfort Bridge, Alberta.

this makes me angry.

sorry...

i left the penis post up too long.

in other old news, Condoleeza Rice is a Klingon.