A new tradition

Hi everyone.

It's Christmas.

Yay.

14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this,
"Cursed are you above all the livestock
and all the wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
and you will eat dust
all the days of your life.

15 And I will put enmity
between you and the woman,
and between your offspring ^[a] and hers;
he will crush ^[b] your head,
and you will strike his heel."

So... the snake's head has been crushed.

That should be a new Christmas tradition. Every child should get a small snake skull in their stocking and they should all get to crush it, thus symbolizing what Christ has done for us.

Okay, maybe not.

87 Views, baby!

So... I am officially done with Fall semester 2007. Only thing left to do is turn it all in.

Also, Reflections... has 87 views. Does anyone else think that's kinda weird? Sweet, though. Theoretically, people like it. Even if the lighting's kinda dim.

I guess we should have just fixed it in post.

The Fruits of Our Labors

This is way less interesting without gestures

So the small story of how I got home is thus:

I picked up Daniel, the American Spanish missionary kid from Calvin who I was giving a ride home, and headed east on I-96. Little did I know that a terrible secret lay beneath the hood of my car...

Earlier that day, I had tried to do my usual (Dad-commanded) check up routine on the car... the oil, the transmission fluid, the tire pressure, etc... but I could not get the hood to pop up. I've had this problem before, though. Usually, it's not a big deal. I hit it a few times, kick it, pop it from the inside again and it works. This time, it didn't. Okay, no big deal. It'll come up when I hit a bump. As I filled up my tank and drove around campus that day, it didn't, though. Hm. Oh well. I guess it's stuck.

Anyway, I pick up Daniel and start heading home. We're trying to me amiable and get along when all of a sudden, BAM! I look up and I suddenly can't see. Luckily, we were in the right lane, so I pull into the shoulder and evaluate the situation.

Have you seen Tommy Boy? That part when their hood flies up into the windshield? Yeah. That happened. And it was bent.

So we get outside and try to put it back down only to find that it's so bent it won't close. Okay. Now what? Well, I had some straps... So that's what we did. We strapped that hood down tight. In the rain and cold. Ick.

So there's that. We keep heading south. Eventually, my right windshield wiper flipped upside down and did nothing, so I pulled over and yanked it off. Now I'm driving 60 miles an hour, in the dark, with a hood that could come up at any moment and one wiper that doesn't work. And then the other wiper started smearing rather than wiping... I officially drove the most unsafe car I've ever driven in my life. I pulled over and got a wiper to get by and went the rest of the way home safely.

Yesterday, my dad and I banged the hood out until it could close (We even greased the clasp so it'll pop up again.). So now all I need is a new windshield, a new wiper, and there's something wrong with the sunroof...

But! It runs.

I'm safe

I am now safely in my home in tropical Medina, Ohio, just so ya'll know.

But the trip was not without its share of adventures, let me tell you.

Or rather, you can ask me later. Or I'll update tomorrow. I'm tired now.

So close.

Lots and lots has been happening in my life. Too much, in fact. So much that I don't feel like catching up my paper journal or this one.

Narnia is over. This is a good thing. Now I have time to do my five projects that are due before the end of the semester.

I don't really know what else to put here. I just realized that I haven't updated this sucker in a while.

So that's that.

Get it? It's funny.

Sam Walter Foss

[A poem about creativity]
(1895)

One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And I infer the calf is dead.
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.
The trail was taken up next day
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bellwether sheep
Pursued the trail o'er hill and glade
Through those old woods a path was made.

And many men wound in and out
And dodged and turned and bent about
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because 'twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed -- do not laugh --
The first migration of that calf,
And through this winding woody-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane
That bent and turned and turned again;
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The road became a village street;
And thus, before we were aware,
A city's crowded thoroughfare.
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed this zigzag calf about
And o'er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.

A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked way,
And lost one hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.

Setbacks

I thought I would chronicle my setbacks of yesterday. I've found it very healthy to retell them. I figure that way I will continue to view them simply as setbacks and I will learn more from them.

I called the division chair at Ferris State University who is in charge of their game design program. He didn't pick up, so I left a message explaining a bit of who I am, that I want to take some classes at Ferris, and for him to call me back to talk about it.

Right after that, I decided to go pop in on Dave Anderson's office, just to see if he was there.
(He's the guy on campus that teaches story for video games at Ferris.) He happened to have been in his office, so I explained to him what I was trying to do at Ferris. Ultimately, he kind of skirted around telling me that it was highly unlikely to happen - at least, not without enrolling at Ferris quite separately.

So, one idea shot down. No big deal.

I continued to tell him that I also had an idea for an independent study course that would teach me video game design stuff. I told him that it would be a kind of guided reading course where I would read design books and articles, play some video games, and write some papers applying what I learn in the books to the games. Perhaps the culmination of the course would be in writing up a design document for an original game.

Now, as an aside here, my understanding of independent study courses was that they were just that. The professor who was tied to it was kind of a formality - someone who would check on you every once in a while, read your papers, and make sure you were making progress. This was not Dave Anderson's understanding. Apparently, independent study professors are supposed to have some kind of expertise in the field of study. So, he told me that he would be unable to help me (in a round about kind of way, though).

So that's two major ideas for my education shot down. Drats.

I was whining about this to Leesa Lehmann and she suggested talking to Perini. After all, he does design games. So I talked to Perini, who was much more helpful. He said that he would be open to it next Fall semester, as long as I got together as many resources as I could (books, syllabi, project rubrics). One of his suggestions was to email my future grad school department chair and ask him for suggestions.

So that's only one and a half ideas. That's good.

The last thing that really got to me was that I told the CEO of the company I'm trying to intern for that I would get him a resume by Tuesday. I stayed up til 3:00 in the morning to finish it, and, for the most part, it was finished.

That experience alone taught me a ton. Like the importance of a cover letter.

Tuesday kept going and I had still not put the finishing touches on the resume. It wouldn't take too long. But then I realized that I should type up a cover letter (they're a bit complicated...). Ultimately, I didn't send the resume until 10:00 Tuesday night with only a brief cover letter. I know that I still got it to him on Tuesday, but the implication was that I would do so in the workday. My not doing that small task on time may have shaken his confidence in my ability to do more important tasks in a timely manner.

This may not break my chances at that company, though (I think he's pretty desperate). If it does, I've learned a ton. I've updated my resume, learned about cover letters, and applied to a company - a step I've never quite undertaken before.

I can now take everything I'm learning to Silicon Knights, the Canadian game developer I would love to work for. I should definitely have a cover letter for that...

So that's that long story. Sorry bout that.

Just checking

So I'm working on a resume right now and the CEO wanted me to attach a picture. He says it makes hiring people and working with them online way easier. Unfortunately, the only somewhat decent picture I have is 2 years old and my hair is still way long.

Does anyone have any recent pictures of just me when my hair is not ridiculously long?

Good news!

So all that internal locus of control stuff might actually work. Especially when others are playing along.

The CEO I was going to email today? Yeah. Totally emailed him.

He totally replied within 6 hours of my email. With good news. Possible internship news.

It still may be early for me to get my hopes up, especially since I don't exactly have any marketable skills - not even as a code monkey. But! There is hope.

So if you could continue to pray for me, friends (heck, even enemies. It'd be good for both of us.), I would be greatly appreciative.

An Internal Locus of Control

So I'm pretty much intimidated out of my mind right now.

I just looked through a few game design and development blogs. Almost every one of them has had a "How to break into the industry" subpage - since they get asked so often.

Examples (just for kicks):
Zen of Design
GameCareerGuide.com
Psychochild

Their advice is certainly informative, but disheartening. Let's take Zen of Design's list for example:

• Entry positions are rare - Companies don't hire people straight out of school because there are always experienced people in the market.
• Get in the door any way you can - answer phones, do Quality Assurance work, whatever. Suck it up and get in.
• Build a portfolio - That's what college is for. Show potential employers some kind of finished product - whether NeverWinter Nights mods or simple flash games.
• Prove you can finish - Ideas are cheap. Everyone in the industry has about 100 great ideas they can use any time. You must be able to execute.
• Build networks - 'Nuff said.
• Do anything to get a game industry line on your resume - Intern, do freelance work, or work for a startup
• Accept that you'll be the low man on the totem pole - Be willing to learn. Don't be a brown-noser, but be humble.
• Excel - Be good at what you do.

So that's that. It's quite terrifying, considering I don't have many opportunities to do this stuff. But, in order to shift to an internal locus of control for my life (thank you psychology), I shall list how I'm planning on overcoming these crazy things.

• Hrm... I guess I can't do much about this except be good at the rest.
• I'm emailing a CEO of a small company tomorrow. I'll be emailing other companies in the next week or so looking for internships.
• I have two options here: wait for grad school to come around, or do something slightly out of the ordinary. I'm not much of an artist or a programmer and I don't have a team to work with (I believe that's been pointed out). What can I do? Story. How can I show them proof of interactive story concepts and execution? Dungeons and Dragons, baby.
  
• Well, this is probably accomplished by actually doing any and all of the above.
• Networking is always a challenge for me, but I'm seeing what I can do to go to the Game Developer's Conference in San Francisco in March. Also, I'm going to ask said CEO if he might be able to be a contact for me just to grab advice from every once in a while.
• Again, internships.
• Honestly, this is a personal and spiritual growth issue. I'd like to be confident and know I'm good at what I do, but at the same time, I must always remember that there are others that are better. Especially there.
• Yeah... I guess I just need to do this...

So there's all that. You, dear Reader, have now borne witness to my mindset trying to change. I think I'm going to write a different post now. Bye bye.

Question

What does it mean to be a man?
What is the journey from boyhood to manhood? When can one say that one has arrived?


This is pertinent in more ways than one. The reason why I'm asking it now is because Trevor and I are writing a story for class that's kind of about this.

So, yeah. Talk amongst yourselves.

I am frustrated.

I just want to be a video game designer. That's it. No more of this silly school stuff. Just let me have a team that shares my vision, some time to get better influences, and some money and let me design video games.

If you have any interest at all in video games, you should read and understand as best you can this article. Then, you should proceed to get just as passionate about it as I am and decide to do what you need to do to be on my team some day.

Currently, there are these positions:

• Programmer(s) with a passion for programming, but with wide influences
  
• Artist(s) with a passion for 3D modeling, concept art, and visual storytelling with wide influences
• Business folks with a passion for the video game industry, but with wide influences
• Investor(s) with little expectation for success but deep pockets. Must believe in vision and trust the creatives.
• Writer(s) with a passion for storytelling, video games, and being a part of video games becoming art. Must have wide influences.
  
• Lawyer(s) with a passion for law and experience and passion for the entertainment art industry

And the best part of all? No previous experience in the industry is required!

Soon...

A Post and a Posted Item

Hey... remember that one time I had a blog? And I updated it every once in a while?

Yeah.... I remember that.

There's really not much to say at this point. I have had no profound insights into the meaning of life since coming back to college... no difficult trials to endure... not really much of anything...

So yeah, I guess this is your standard, run-of-the-mill "I should update" post.

Also, this is a cool video:

Kubla Khan

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Even Christian would appreciate this

Beauty (with voice acting, no less)

Into marvelous light I'm running...

I'm running desperately toward the light. Shadows are flying by me all over, strange forms that both entice me and terrify me. It is a dark place, a lonely place, a place of my own self destruction. As I run, I nearly choke on the heat, the humidity, and the stink of sweat that seems to pervade the air no matter where I run. What little wind there is seems to be contorted into a greasy, snake like coil that never brings the comfort of a breeze. I try to listen to the sound of my breathing, but it proves impossible to hear over the cacophony of noises I hear from the shadows around - cries of pain, cruel laughter, the pregnant silence of fear, and the sobs of guilt. This is as close as I could ever imagine hell being and my only way out is right in front of me. I run toward the light desperately, with a recklessness that belies my usual thought out processing.

All of a sudden, the light is all around me. The shadows are gone and in their place, there is nothing. Nothing but formless light, as far as my eyes can see. This is the escape that I so desperately craved. I am no longer tormented by my demons or the demons of others.

But it scares me.

All I can see is light. I search in vain for something in the distance, some small object by which I could discern space, but there is no movement of any kind, no forms to discern in the distance, not even the hint of a fog. The air is still and quiet - more quiet than I ever imagined possible. All I can hear is my own heartbeat, and even that sounds distant. I slowly become aware that I am slightly cold. Not near enough to shiver, but just enough to make me uncomfortable. The air has no smell, no taste. There is nothing but light.

I am alone. Utterly alone. My senses are dead, I am losing my humanity. I scream just to hear something, but something about my voice - or about the air - only allows the smallest whisper to reach my ears. I start trying to run again, but then I fall. Or do I? I have no sense of what is up, what is down. I do not even know if I am standing on solid ground right now.

Not knowing what else to do, I pray, "God, you led me here! You called me out of the darkness into your light! But I do not understand! I can't see anything! I can't hear anything! Please show me a path!" But nothing happens. I see nothing but light.

I cry, "Let me hear your voice, Father! Tell me how to move and I will gladly do it! I will take only baby steps until you direct me otherwise!" I strain my ears, expecting to hear the smallest whisper, but nothing happens. I hear only the distant pounding of my heart.

Finally, I plead, "Give me anything! Give me chains! Give me pain! Give me anything by which I can know where I am and where I am to go!" I reach my hands up, bringing my wrists close together, as if God would reach down from heaven and handcuff me to a giant chain that I could follow. I close my eyes tight, as if God was about to push spears into my exposed side, but nothing happens.

I still feel nothing. No hint of guidance. No promise of more to come. Just light. Blinding light all around me.

I consider for a moment that the Darkness was better - there I had feeling. I could see, hear, taste, smell, and touch. Here, I am nothing. Here, I only know light. But that thought quickly passes as folly. I am better here, alone, than there, in darkness and pain. I know I have followed God, I just don't see him any longer. He has led me this far. Eventually, my logic and knowledge tell my heart, he will come and get me. He will lead me to where he is.

But he is not here now. And so, in my loneliness, I begin to cry.

I hear my sobs as if they were very close to me, much closer than my heartbeat. I feel the blood rush to my face as it flushes and my tears rolling down my nose. I'm sure, if there was anyone there, I would feel embarrassed. Then, I realize that I am hearing. I am feeling. I open my eyes and I see my hands as if they had never been there before. I wipe my nose with my forearm and notice how the snot makes all the hairs in its path move in the same direction. I begin to laugh a little.

As I hear my laugh, I can still hear sobs somewhere. I begin to hear other sounds - a contented sigh, someone saying the words, "I love you," a shout of triumph. More and more sounds are added to the symphony, like an orchestra tuning before a performance.

Suddenly, the light around me begins to fade. The symphony of sound seems to transform into physical shape sound by sound. As it does, I can start discerning mountains in the far distance. I begin to see that I am standing in a field full of wild flowers, with a forest of pine trees to my left and right and a hill in front of me. I can hear birds singing in the forest, a breeze rustling both the wildflowers and the larger tree branches. From over the hill, I hear what sounds like waves crashing into a shore. The sky is blue with patches of large, fluffy clouds and the sun is warming me gently. I can smell the wildflowers and the pine and the smell of grass on a sunny day. I put my hand over the tall grass, like that shot in Gladiator, and feel the ridges of the leaf, the thinness of the blade, and the soft point of its end.

Then it hits me. Perhaps I was too blinded by the darkness to see what was all around me. Perhaps the noise of the Dark dulled my ears to the distant breeze and sound of grass waving in the wind. Maybe this scene has been here since the beginning, waiting for me to be sensitive enough to enjoy it.

I don't think God created us to isolate ourselves in perfection. It is an impossible goal. Rather, I think he created us to enjoy what he has put in front of us. Unfortunately, our sin gets in the way of that.

I'm still learning how to balance legalism and total abandonment of God's standards. I wish I could cling to a list of do's and don't's to grow closer to God, but that's not how God's grace works. We cannot cling to Jesus and a code of behavior. We just need to cling to Jesus and introduce others to him.

P.S. This is my 100th post. And also the longest, I think.

P.P.S. Heidi, this was an encouragement when I read it tonight. Thank you. Jude 24: "Now all glory to God, who is able to keep you from falling away and will bring you with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault."
----------------
Now playing: Skillet - Looking For Angels
via FoxyTunes

(Yep, no idea what to title this.)

Everything is perfect right now.

Well, except that my life isn't at the end of its story. Which, I guess, is good.

Act 3 is coming, friends. But until then, we must fight the good fight.

Camp update!

I have a fever. And the only prescription for that fever is more Harry Potter.

So I saw the 5th movie last night, then started the 6th book again. I finished it today around 7:00pm and picked up the 7th book. Also, I slept for a good 9 or 10 hours last night.

So, essentially this post is to brag about my reading speed and to lament the fact that I am trying to use some measure of self control and go to bed now rather than finishing Deathly Hollows before sunrise.

I suppose a quick camp update is in order for those of you I didn't get to see when I visited GR this past weekend. It was pretty cool. The speaker was a guy I quickly came to respect (He said he diagrammed every sentence of the Bible in the original languages...) who had a great knack for preaching.
My favorite part of the week was Wednesday night, where he pretty much issued a call for leadership to the students - to own their youth ministries and become more than just passive observers. One of our students, who has a natural gift for leadership, finally felt convicted enough to do something about it. During the altar call (because yes, there was one every night... just not quite the typical one), he went down with a few other students, calling out those he knew needed a bit of encouragement to step out, one of which was my sister. They met, just the students, for over an hour and a half. Ultimately, they drew up some kind of covenant and signed it, committing to start being the change they want to see.

He called out my sister. She committed to pursuing God more, stepping up more leadership-wise, and trying to live better with her parents. She borrowed my phone and called them that night. It made me happy to see God get a hold of her.

The next night, they did their usual "Are you called to ministry?" thing. I went down and talked to two guys, one of which I had seen that calling in before and one I hadn't. I gave them a bit of my story, said something I should not have to the guy I didn't expect to see, asked for forgiveness, and, for the most part, wasn't as bad as I thought I would be. Thanks to whoever prayed.

I'm sure I learned some stuff, too, but I'm really tired right now. It was just really cool to be a servant to these students, get to know them, and have fun with them. I'm sure I have lots more stories to tell - especially now that I've started telling them - but they will, I'm afraid, have to wait until we (and by we, I mean returning Cornerstone students) are reunited in three weeks or so.

Desperately trying not to identify too closely with Harry,

Kemp

----------------
Now playing: Switchfoot - Let That Be Enough
via FoxyTunes

Imagine.

Sometimes I think there’s a war going on in my backyard, just beyond the woods. I hear the rat-a-tat-tat of sub machine guns, a helicopter making a pass, and the occasional shout of orders. The thought of an insurrection war briefly passes through my mind, where thousands of normal citizens suddenly begin trying to take over places of power or just killing random citizens – kinda like Red Dawn, but from the inside.

It scares me. I consider running inside and locking myself and my sister in our basement. I want to call my parents and my other sister to make sure that they know to stay somewhere safe rather than come home to a war zone. I just about grab the remote to see if the media is on to this start up war on our home soil but another scary thought grabs me.

What if the media are in on it? What if the battles escape the news’ attention? No one would know that there are dead bodies piling up across the woods as a father desperately tries to defend his home and family from soldiers that would have them dead.

What if the cavalry didn’t know to come in? What if there was no cavalry? What if we were left to be citizen-soldiers? Could I do it? Could you?

I wonder if this is what the citizens of Iraq feel like every day. They don’t know if the rat-a-tat-tat is some kind of construction equipment or a machine gun. That big boom could be a demolition of an old house or a suicide bomber in the middle of the market. They don’t know until they run toward the sound, fearing the worst.

I stay in my backyard recliner. The noises keep going, but I don’t investigate. I don’t get up to turn on the TV, I don’t check online. I sit here, wondering if war is going on just beyond my woods and do nothing. I tell myself that it’s just an overactive imagination. Earlier, I saw a plane come out of nowhere accompanied by a strange sound and immediately thought that it must have been displaced here from the Bermuda Triangle in the 60s. Those sounds you hear are just construction. Real guns would be louder. A real battle wouldn’t take this long. If something really bad was happening, somehow, you would find out.

But the noises keep going. And I can’t think of any construction equipment that sounds like that. In the end, I’m not sure what keeps me to this chair – the tea, the laptop, the fear that my overactive imagination is right, or the fear that my overactive imagination is wrong?

Dear Heavens

LET... THE MADNESS... CEASE...

Camp update to come.

Another public service announcement:

I'm going to church camp, ergo, I won't be updating.

Panic in the streets!

AAAHHH!!!

Bart Allen is dead. The Legion of Superheroes traveled back in time to revive Barry Allen, but in the process actually brought back Wally West. The mission was not a failure, though - the essence of Barry is in a lightning rod currently being held by Braniac 5 in the 31st century.

The Sinestro Corps is invading the positive matter universe! (I must get this title...) They've broken Cyborg Superman and Superboy Prime out of their prisons on Oa and given them wrings! Kyle Rayner's powers are stricken from him and he is possessed by Parallax! The Anti-Monitor is back and is with Sinestro!

Kyle Rayner is possessed by Parallax!!! AAAAHHHH!!!! Superboy Prime has a Yellow Ring!!! The Zamarons are collecting energies of all emotions, not just the known powers of Love (Purple), Will (Green), and Fear (Yellow)!!!

AAHHHH!!! Panic in the streets!!!

Orbiting God

Do you ever begin to think that everything you've perceived as growth in your life is just a different way of looking at it? Like, instead of moving closer to God, that you're just kind of orbiting around him, always changing position, but never moving closer?

How can I serve students best at a camp where I disagree with some of their processes? Should I disagree with them? What if they're right and I'm the immature, cynical, far-from-God one?

Maybe this all goes back to the good ol' heart vs. head problem. Should decisions be made based on feelings at the moment (i.e. a sudden, deep passion for missions or youth ministry) or should they be based on a sensible analysis of the situation (i.e. "Oh, look! I've always enjoyed working with children, maybe I should consider children's ministry" or a decision to pursue missions because of a special connection with a specific culture)? Ideally, they should be made with both, but what if that's not possible?

Can I dissuade students from committing to ministry as 16 year olds? Is that right?

I don't want to see any students making the same mistakes I did. I spent a year and a half of my life pursuing something I convinced myself I should dedicate my life to. I want them to find out what God wants them to do, not what Christians think they should do or what their church or youth pastor or family or their perception of any of these.

Please pray for humility in my heart and wisdom in my actions...

Notice:

I'm on vacation in Florida, ergo, I won't be updating.

I don't do this very often...

But here are song lyrics (You need to hear this one.):
JARS OF CLAY LYRICS

"Oh My God"

Oh my God, look around this place
Your fingers reach around the bone
You set the break and set the tone
Flights of grace, and future falls
In present pain
All fools say, "Oh my God"

Oh my God, Why are we so afraid?
We make it worse when we don't bleed
There is no cure for our disease
Turn a phrase, and rise again
Or fake your death and only tell your closest friend
Oh my God.

Oh my God, can I complain?
You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief
Weddings, boats and alibis
All drift away, and a mother cries

Liars and fools; sons and failures
Thieves will always say
Lost and found; ailing wanderers
Healers always say
Whores and angels; men with problems
Leavers always say
Broken hearted; separated
Orphans always say
War creators; racial haters
Preachers always say
Distant fathers; fallen warriors
Givers always say
Pilgrim saints; lonely widows
Users always say
Fearful mothers; watchful doubters
Saviors always say

Sometimes I cannot forgive
And these days, mercy cuts so deep
If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep
While I lay, I dream we're better,
Scales were gone and faces light
When we wake, we hate our brother
We still move to hurt each other
Sometimes I can close my eyes,
And all the fear that keeps me silent falls below my heavy breathing,
What makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder
We all feel the need for wonder
We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the thunder

Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven
All the times I thought to reach up
All the times I had to give
Babies underneath their beds
Hospitals that cannot treat all the wounds that money causes,
All the comforts of cathedrals
All the cries of thirsty children - this is our inheritance
All the rage of watching mothers - this is our greatest offense

Oh my God
Oh my God
Oh my God



And this one also. But you don't really need to hear the music for this one as much:

SWITCHFOOT LYRICS

"Faust, Midas, And Myself"

This one's about a dream
I had last night
How an old man tracked me home
And stepped inside
He put his foot inside the door
And gave a crooked smile
Something in his eyes
Something in his laugh
Something in his voice
That made my skin crawl off

He said, "I've seen you here before
I know your name.
You could have your pick
Of pretty things.
You could have it all
Everything at once.
Everything you've seen,
Everything you'll need,
Everything you've ever had in fantasies."

"You've one life,
You've one life.
You've one life left to lead."

I woke up from my dream
As a golden man
With a girl I've never seen
With golden skin
I jumped up to my feet
She asked me what was wrong
I began to scream
I don't think this is me
Is this just a dream
Or really happening?

What direction?
What direction?
I'm splitting up!
I'm splitting up!
This is my personal disaffection

What direction? What direction?
What direction now?

I looked outside the glass
At golden shores
Golden ships and masts
With golden cords
As my reflection passed
I hated what I saw
My golden eyes were dead
And a thought passed through my head
A heart that is made of gold can't really beat at all

I wanted to wake up again
Without a touch of gold

What direction?
Death or action!
Life begins at the intersection.

I woke up as before
But the gold was gone
My wife was at the door
With her night robe on
My heart beat once or twice
And life flooded my veins
Everything had changed
My lungs had found their voice
And what was once routine
And what was once routine was now the perfect joy

You've one life
You've one life
One life left to lead



That is all. You may continue with your lives.

Questions

Jesus didn't hang out only with poor people. Tax collectors were very rich and he hung out with them. Was it Jesus that called them to his table or did they invite themselves in Matthew 9?

What about the tax collectors did Jesus find himself attracted to? Was it because they engaged in many unscrupulous business dealings or because they didn't have friends because of that?

Who are our modern day tax collectors? Are they the corporate people who perpetrated scandals like Enron?

Told you.

I was in Millpond Park the other day waiting for my friend Devon to get out of work. It really is a nice place. It has one of those big wooden play structures for kids, two rivers that converge, lots of field space to run around in, and plenty of children to watch. I parked my car, got out, stood by the river a while, then crossed a bridge to a little peninsula created when the rivers come together. On this little outcrop, there were lots of little paths and I followed one, trying to stay as far away from people as I could.

Eventually, I hit a chainlink fence, where I decided to pee. It feels good to pee outside.

Anyway, I kept following a path around to where the rivers meet. I threw some sticks in the river and watched the ripples carefully. It's always bothered me that people say that even the smallest rock makes a ripple that eventually becomes a wave. Little make rocks make little ripples that eventually flatten out and make an almost imperceptible impact on the shore.

As I was heading back to my car, I for some reason noticed a small tree that had been cut down. It was very small, perhaps a half inch in diameter and it stuck straight out of the ground a foot or so off the path. The top was very flat and evenly cut except for one detail: there were leaves shooting up from just beneath the cut. They were small leaves, and the chance for them surviving is very small, I'm sure, but it did make me think.

It seemed to me to be proof of a loving God. I know it's a bit naive, perhaps, but I was touched by the fact that life was growing out of something I would have thought was dead. Kinda like us.
Really, we are quite dead, us humans. No one would expect us, under the Fall, to bear any kind of fruit. Miraculously, though, we do. God, in his grace, intervenes to make us not totally deranged and evil.

When I say this, the first thing most people (and by "people," I mean Christians) think of is Christ, which is good. Jesus, ultimately, is the definition of grace; a pure and perfect human who deserved heaven but took our Hell, a deity stripped of his power and humiliated by the ones he loved. But I do not speak of this.

I speak of the fruit that even non-Christians bear. Those who do not follow Christ are still quite capable of doing great good (sometimes, even more than "Christians"). **I'd stick in an example here, but I can't think of a good one of the top of my head. Feel free to leave some good ones...**
He does not let the Fall run rampant through human lives. We could be constantly self-seeking, constantly perverse, and constantly looking for ways to hurt others, but instead, the common grace that God gives us stops us from doing these things. He saves us from what could be our fate under the Fall. What a great and graceful God that we follow, that he would extend his grace even to those who do not call him Lord.

P.S. Clarification: I do not mean to say that non-believers are not in need of the grace offered them through the cross (What I've said could be interpreted that way, I suppose.). I only want to point out that God saves them from the total evil of the Fall despite their denial of redemption. And really, it is this common grace that becomes the damnation of many non-believers. So many are stopped from coming to Jesus because they are a "good person," but they don't realize that God has intervened to keep them that way. It's almost like a deposit: God first extends his common grace to us so that we may trust him in his extension of Redemptive Grace. Unfortunately, many of us humans take that common grace as proof that we do not need redemption. In many ways, this grace is as seemingly foolish of an act as God giving us free will or allowing Satan into the garden...

Later.

Deep post to come later. I'm tired now.

Dear Diary,

So I started work today. I was originally scheduled to work 6 - close in concession (my least favorite in the theater), but when I got there, my boss told me that instead, I'd be doing my also least favorite job in the theater: Crown Club.

For those who don't know (which I'm assuming is most), I work at a Regal Entertainment Group theater. We have this thing called the Regal Crown Club, where you get points for spending money at Regal theaters. It's quite free, you just have to sign up and then bring your card with you to the theater. Very easy.

Unfortunately, some employees have to "sell" these (not so very easy). That means randomly assaulting theater patrons and coercing them into signing their name and taking a card. So for 4 1/2 hours, I randomly solicited customers until they relented and took a small plastic card from me.

Personally, this whole pushing-Crown-Club-cards thing kind of goes against my whole "do unto others" policy. I hate it when you go to the mall and the cell phones guys enter 20 questions with you and you just want to walk away or punch them in the face but they keep talking and you don't want to switch plans and quite frankly it's a bit unreasonable for them to expect you to and...

Anyway, I don't like doing it, but it's my job, so I do it to the best of my ability. The best I've ever done (and this was when the program was new, so nobody had them) was 40 something. Since then, the record's been set at 109. She "had faith" that I could get 150. I told her she was crazy. I got somewhere around 60 today. Beat my best, but nowhere near the legendary 109 in one shift... The employee must've given out free money with each card...

So the moral of the story is that work wasn't too bad, we had a lot of local competition for audiences, and I broke my record for pushing pieces of plastic on unwitting customers. I guess that would be a good day.

Oh yeah, and I went running this morning. Ick.

Goodnight.

Nana & Gramps

I would like to make it known that I love my grandparents. Their names are Luther and Rosalie Kicklighter and they live in St. Cloud, FL (except when they are travelling). We call them Gramps and Nana. They are wise. And loving. And generous. And they are here for the next couple weeks. And I am spending lots of time with them.

Yay grandparents!


(I don't really feel like sharing stories now. But I may later.)

Creativity

So I've been working on an entry for a week and a half now and it's still not done. I keep thinking, "Kemp, you need to update your blog." To which I answer myself, "But Kemp, you should finish your sub-creation rant before posting anything else." And I say, "Well, you're probably right." Then I promptly go and not work on said rant. But today, I say, "No more, self! You will update that blog! Stop procrastinating!" So here I am.

My creativity class ended today. I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, the class is over. I have no more homework, no more journaling, no more reading creative books. On the other hand, I now have to process everything I learned and internalize it.

Yesterday, Perini had us begin to make plans as to how we would begin to implement all that we've learned in the past two weeks. It was actually one of the harder things I had to do in the course. I all of a sudden got really panicked. How could I even begin to change my life? There's too much to do: too many books to read, too much work to be done, and too many habits to change. Even as I worked on our final project, I found myself slipping into my old ways of thinking. How can I hold onto creative thinking over the summer? Combine all this with what I intended to do anyway, and how in the world am I supposed to rest?

When I start thinking this way, I forget one of the things about being a creative person: it's a lifestyle. It is not work. It's fun and exciting and stimulating and challenging. I have the habit of transforming anything I enjoy into a responsibility (including creativity, my relationship with God, video games, reading, leadership positions, theatre, academics...), but that's not a healthy, playful, or creative way to live. In fact, it's quite dangerous.

One of the things that I should probably write on notecards and stick everywhere is "You are a creative person." I forget too easily that many of the things that this class encourages I have done in the past. Before college, I learned anything I could and tried to apply it to game design (systems thinking and synthesis of separate ideas... two concepts we learned). I've done this stuff in the past, I can do it again.

I think I'll leave this on a positive note before I get more whiny. Sorry about writing a novel every time I update this thing... That's my bad.... Perhaps I just think a little too deeply.

Yeah. Right.

I think I agree

Processing time over

A few weeks ago, Heidi, Melissa, and Christian were sitting in my room after Wayne's World and I asked them what they learned this year. As is the case in every conversation like this, the question was eventually directed at me and I didn't really have an answer. I said a few things, but now that I've had more time to think (and I actually remembered to think about it...), I'd thought I'd share some things that I've learned this year.

1) One of the things that I've learned (more recently) is that I need to take time to feed myself. The lesson of the starving baker is one that I need to remind myself of constantly. Part of feeding myself is having a consistent Bible time where I sincerely spend time with God. It is also taking time to have meaningful discussions with my friends.

2) I think I could have been a better Sherpa. Part of me wants to blame Kelly (my CUF) for not challenging me like some of the other CUFs challenged their Sherpas. I know that the responsibility was on me alone, but it brings me another lesson: Challenging people is important. I need to challenge myself and havce someone keep me (brutally) accountable so that I can continue to grow. It wouldn't hurt to surround myself with people that challenge me to be better, but I know that to have a friend, I need to be a friend. Therefore, I must challenge those closest to me to get better in order for them to challenge me.

3) Also recently: do it anyway. I have a renewed energy to be a leader thanks to Don Perini's speech at the Leadership Journey Celebration. He told a story about his daughter learning how to swim. She hated the water. She screamed and was terrified and did what little kids do, but she did it anyway. She still got in the water even though it terrified her. Leaders do what needs to be done. Whether it is an act of obedience to God or because they're scared, or, as is often the case for me, they just feel awkward, do it anyway.

In our own Christian walks, I think this applies, too. God asks us to obey him. When we don't feel like it, do it anway. When we're scared, do it anyway. When we've lost faith in him, do it anyway. When we've screwed up enough times that we think everything we do will not be blessed or something, do it anyway.

Anyway, I could keep sermonizing, but I'm done for now. I thought I'd share. See ya.

Yay!

I'm better now.

Time to enjoy the weekend before exams!

I'm sick

I don't like it.

I finished my homework last night right around 1:00 (not bad, all things considered) and crashed in bed. But then I was absolutely freezing. I could not laid under covers shivering for a good 10 minutes hoping it would get warm. It didn't. I added two extra blankets. Still not warm. I put on my sweat pants and a fleece sweater and finally, I was warm enough not to shiver constantly.

I still didn't fall asleep very much. I ended up seeing Dave Wood online sometime around 4:30 I think. By then, I figured out that maybe light was what I needed. So I slept out on the futon and fell right asleep. Yay!

Pray for me, please.

Goal: Be less of a preacher.

I have a gripe, a complaint, if you will.

I'm a preacher. I can confront and probe and prod and encourage and all that. Quite directly sometimes. Less direct other times. But never suggestively.

As a future (and current...ish...) storyteller, I must learn to be suggestive in my challenges. Films and novels and comics and stories do not lecture the audience. A character does not say, "Gee, I'm glad I made that decision, maybe everyone else should, too." They... do... something else....

That's kinda my problem. I just don't know how to be suggestive. I'm not good at subtley or manipulation. If I want something, I ask. I don't plant the idea in someone's head, watch it grow, water it for weeks, and then, all of a sudden, they decide to start changing.

I say, "CHANGE NOW!" And if that doesn't do it, I kick them.

So... I'm trying to change that part of me. And trying to not let my brain think that I need to switch back to youth ministry. Because that scares me.

Toodles.

Public Service Announcement:

Wayne's World. Tonight. My room. 8:00.

It shall be glorious.

And now for something actually worth something

The first video game I ever played was Super Mario World on the Super Nintendo Entertainment System when I was six years old. It ruined me. Since then, I have dreamt of little more than designing video games. I would draw levels on the back of my notebooks in third grade. I would write stories for class projects that were directly based on video games in fifth grade. By eighth grade, I had worked up a semi-original story to tell through a video game.

At the same time that I was test driving the idea of being a video game designer, I was coming closer to the Lord. I grew up in a Christian family, was saved in kindergarten, but it was not until 7^th grade that I began to take Jesus seriously and really begin to allow him to control my life. As the years went by and I matured in my faith, I began to consider what it would look like to combine my passion for interactive story telling and my passion for following Jesus and leading others to him. What if a Christian produced a video game of such high caliber as the Final Fantasy or Legend of Zelda series and told a part of the Truest Story?

We believe in a story. It is a story of love and of hate, of terrible war and beautiful peace. It is a story in which the hero humbled himself, allowing himself to be beaten and even killed for the love of his enemies, only to rise again, proving his power. And it is a story in which the hero ultimately asks for people to join in his story, fighting in his battles with his own power. What better basis for a video game story is there than that?

Many Christians have interpreted this as meaning that we should “video game-ify” the Bible, retelling the stories of Moses, David, or telling possible stories that unfold out of the mysteries of the book of Revelation. They create games in which the main character wears the armor of God and slings around “Smite” energy, causing enemies to drop to their knees and pray for salvation. Their attempts, while admirable and honoring to God, have been low budget, poorly presented, not marketed, and, frankly, quite unappealing. They sell in Christian bookstores only and the general public never sees them.

While Christian games have their place, I would rather work in an environment that pushes the limits of video games. I would like to be a part of a company that makes games that are not made only for Christians, but are made for the entire public. I want to make games that ask the players questions about life and purpose or show them a bit of truth. As a Christian, I do not believe it is imperative that I present a gospel message in every moment of the game. Rather, I would like to show truth through story, and story does not have to focus on Jesus, Christians, churches, or anything else expected. Rather, it can be told through talking animals, elves, and magical worlds.

From this framework, I have decided that I would like to work in a secular video game market, in order to do the most good, and, hopefully, further Christ’s kingdom. Being in a secular market positions me for three main goals. First, I want to act as a witness to the workers around me. Since high school, I have been passionate about spreading the gospel to those in my sphere of influence. This feeds into my second goal of being a voice against the wave of violence, dangerous escapism, and the waste of a potentially powerful medium. By spreading the gospel, I believe that the game industry can change from the bottom up. Designers will be less and less interested in creating these trashy games and be more interested in creating challenging stories and gameplay. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there will be a larger audience to whom to tell the Truth. The more people buy my games (hopefully), the more people will be led to think about the Truest Story in which we all play a part.

P.S. This is an essay I wrote for my Introduction to Electronic Media class and I hope to send it in for the National Association of Religious Broadcasters scholarship award. Critique is always nice, if you have it.

It's official

My right leg is shorter than my left leg. I told Prindle that and he didn't believe me. Then I showed him and he walked away.

I think that counts as a whole hearted agreement.

Eric says that I can get it fixed. Something about twisting my tailbone or something.

Okay. I'll stop procrastinating now. Bye bye.

Murdochian

I just typed in schedule anomalies into Outlook. (Schedule anomalies being things outside of normal class schedule stuff.) I'm very busy for the next few days. I kind of feel like Murdoch. I don't really like it.

It occured to me today that I haven't done something simply because it would be fun in a while. Or, perhaps more accurately, I haven't done something fun and let it be fun throughout. I decided to do Brad's movie because I thought it would be fun, but now it's driving my schedule crazy so much that it's becoming not so much fun.

I need to sit down and play video games for a while. Summer will be here soon...

P.S. Go to www.purple.com. It's nothing dirty. It's good times.

Why shouldn't I?

So... I was reading an article just now for Film A-Z about fundraising for feature films when you're unknown. It was a very interesting article and I learned a lot from it.

The whole time I was thinking about video games. Or, at least, doing it myself someday with one of my own "projects."

I think I'm going to start a company after grad school.

Why shouldn't I? **mischevious grin**

I am a C... I am a C-H...

So I had a thought today. (Just one. Don't worry.)

I was reading my friend Christian's buddy info and one of his statments is: I'm a Christian - it's more than my name. (Or something to that effect.)

Anyway, it kinda got me thinking. Anywhere else but a Christian college and that would be a big deal. Him being a Christian would be a much bigger part of his social identity. But here, at a Christian college, where it is assumed that everyone is a Christian (or at least buys into the Christian metanarrative somewhat), Christian saying that he is a Christian has little value.

What about that? Is this a good thing? Is it good that at a Christian college our social identity is built more around our interests, friend, majors, and extra curriculars than our adoption into the family of God? Perhaps it allows us the opportunity to really find out who we are in Christ, rather than just saying that we are in Christ and leaving it at that.

I can't help but think that perhaps our loyalties are a little reversed here, though. At a public university, I think I would first be known by others for being a Christian, and then as an actor/Sherpa/video game design hopeful. Here, I am known as a Sherpa/actor/video game design hopeful more than I am as a Christian.

In the original example of my friend Christian, I think of him first as a musician and film enthusiast before it really sinks in that we share beliefs in the risen son of God who came to take our sins away from us. To me, this kinda sounds screwed up...

Anyway, what are your thoughts? Am I alone in thinking this (that'd be fine... I'm kind of a weird thinker sometimes...)?

And... responsego!

Here it comes, a beautiful collision

At least, I hope.

I like David Crowder. His music makes me happy. And thoughtful. And kinda honest.


Only a few more weeks, then I'm home for the summer. I'm looking forward to it, but I have to remember to rest. In my head, I keep coming up with more and more I'd like to do this summer: first May term... maybe another class... read a bunch of books... go hiking... spend time with friends... work at the theater... work at the golf course... volunteer at the church... hang out with the college ministry... teach middle school or high school a few Sundays... That's a lot of stuff. I have to remember to rest this summer. I need it.

I'm hoping to wrangle the Sunday school teacher for college students into "mentoring" me a bit. I need someone more experienced than me at this Christian thing to help keep me accountable to both rest and growth over the summer. The trick with mentors, though, is that I'm bitter about them. So I've got to be careful.

Homework and driving tomorrow. I definitely didn't finish everything I needed to this weekend. C'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

Night.

Just how many of you are there?

I want everyone to know that Windows Media Player frustrates me to no end. I can't get the furmudgen thing to display my library nicely. It tries too hard to be like Apple and display all of my (nonexistent) album art with my (nonexistent) album organization. GAH!

In other news, I'm home, which is nice. I get to hang out with my family, watch movies, do homework... It's good.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to go somewhere and spend time with God, but with the weather so bad, I don't know where to go...

Now I'm off to do homework. See yas.

A Real Confession:

Number of true facts in my entry dated 4-1-07:
3 (The decision making thing... Feeling like I'm shortchanging my education... and I love you guys....)

Number of not true at all facts in my entry dated 4-1-07:
the rest of the entire story.

The look on your faces when you read my entry dated 4-1-07: I wouldn't really know, but I imagine it's priceless.

Happy April Fool's day, everyone.

(Now you have a reason to kill me, Michael...)

How I Should Make Decisions

So I've had this theory for a few days about decision making and I'm going to share it.

I figure it this way: as humans, we have three main decision making faculties, right? We've got our heads (logic), our hearts (emotions), and our gut (instinct and intuition). My new way of making decisions (I think) is that these three decision making faculties have to agree. Or, if not totally agree, two have to agree and the third has to see where they're coming from.

Let's use a recent example as an illustration. But first, a confession:


It's finally time I tell you guys something. I've managed thus far to keep it pretty secret, only asking advice of a few select people and telling precious few others. Anyway...

I won't be returning to Cornerstone next year. Some of you know how I've been joking around like I'd transfer for a long time, but the joking has been motivated by some serious goings on in the background. Time for a story:

This past January, I applied to the University of Central Florida kind of on faith. I've thought about transferring in the past, but God gave me a real peace about coming back to Cornerstone this year. Then I decided to change my major last semester to Film in order to pursue video game design. I felt like being a film major at Cornerstone would be decent preparation for grad school, but I still felt like I was shortchanging my education. I would be staying at Cornerstone pretty much just because I have a Keen scholarship here.

I thought I'd apply to UCF to see what God could make happen. I was absolutely fine with staying at Cornerstone if that was God's will and I was also absolutely fine with leaving. So I applied. Long story short, I was accepted and the financial aid and transfer credit wheels started to turn.

I got all the detail-y stuff back about two and a half weeks ago. It turns out that the financial aid worked out to be a little cheaper here tuition-wise, but there's a lot less room and board (I could even stay with relatives). As far as my credits go, just about all of them transfered. Even IDS 100 and Scientific Inquiry, oddly enough.

So that's another part of why I've been so stressed for the past few weeks... I've been praying like crazy and asking advice and looking for options and seeing if other doors open and I think God is leading me to go to UCF and major in Digital Media. This is why I've been really hesitant to do any leadership positions or make any hard committments for living next year and why I've been kind of angsty and burnt out...

So to bring this back around (like I do on this blog so often...), the logic is satisfied by the better education and the working out of the details... The intuition is satisfied because this feels right. Following my dream seems better this way. And... the heart hurts, but it can see what needs to be done.

I love you guys. I'm going to miss you, but I feel like I have to go. I'll be back to visit and stuff, so I'm not dying or anything, but I do have to follow this.

Sorry this confession was online. If you guys have any questions or anything, feel free to find me and ask. Or just kill me. I'll understand that, too. (Mike's planning that for tonight anyway...)

See ya later.

I just realized something...

First of all, I quite frequently end the title of my posts with an ellipsis... Like that.

Second of all, I wrote about wanting a wife in my last post and I also quoted Frank Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me." It just occured to me that the two are somewhat related. After all, one of the lines is "It's perfect for a flying honeymoon they say." So... just so we're all clear, that song was stuck in my head, nothing more.

Third of all, I don't actually want an arranged marriage. Unless you're Joe Allred. Then you have permission to find me a wife.

Last of all, I'm up far too late. I should have been in bed at least an hour ago. Shame on me.

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

I had a weird dream last night that I think I explained to everyone I met today. I'm not quite sure why I did that.

Anybody want to find me a wife? I'm kind of in the mood for an arranged marriage.

If you could use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay
It's perfect for a flying honeymoon they say
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

Laundry

I just did my laundry. I needed to do it desperately. I used my last good pair of boxers today and you never want to go down to those last two that kinda fit funny...

Anyway, it got me thinking. Laundry is a very humanizing task. I feel very human when I'm folding and putting away my clothes.

Think about it: when was the last time you saw a fictional person doing laundry? Movie characters don't do laundry. Video game characters don't do laundry. Book characters don't do laundry. Only living, breathing, human beings wash their clothes.

Even more (and I know this might end up sounding bad), how often do you see men doing laundry? Hardly ever. When they do, it is not usually looked on as a normal part of life, but rather as a feminine chore. I mean, can you see Master Chief trying to wash that armor after a long day of slaughter countless thousands of aliens? Or Cloud Strife saying, "Hold on guys, we can't go kill Sephiroth and save the world yet. My pants are going to be in the dryer another 30 minutes."

There's just something inherently uncool about washing, drying, and folding clothes. It's a humbling task. It's something only a servant would do.

So I will continue to do my laundry, even though it takes time and money, because it reminds me that I am a man. I am not some sweet character in a play, novel, game, movie, TV show, or any other story telling medium. I am flesh and blood, fallible, fallen, and in need of grace.

Change me, God.

A song from church today

"We have been changed to bring change."

I liked that line. I've sometimes felt that that's my lot in life: I'm an agent of change. I blow into a town for a few years, love on people, get loved on, and, in the end, change things (hopefully for the better).

Cornerstone is different. I feel like I haven't changed things as I wanted to(?). But then again, I'm not in charge of the change that happens. That's God's job.

I dunno. It's tough to explain. I guess maybe it's that it hasn't been as motivated from the inside as it has been in the past. "We have been changed to bring change." The first part of that statement is that we have been changed. Since I started college, I don't think I've felt all that changed. I mean, freshman year, I thought I hadn't changed at all and I began doubting my salvation and all that mess, and this isn't that, but I just haven't been as plugged into God as I have been in the past. And I haven't been able to get back plugged in... At least, not very consistently.

I love being an agent of change, but I can't be without being in step with the God who changed me.

This song kind of came at a God-time. Lately, I've been really thinking about all this and praying that God would use me. That I would be his hands and feet and that I would go where he sends me. (Yeah... Audio Adrenaline..... But it's a good song!)

So... yeah...

"We have been changed to bring change."

That's what it's all about.

I love you guys.

Random Thought

Life is what we make of it.

I've made a discovery!

My bellybutton can shoot laser beams!








In other news, read The Great Divorce by Mr. Clive Staples Lewis. Or A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest Gaines. Both are excellent books. The first, full of hope. The second, mostly cynical, but still hopeful.

That's all I've got for now.

It is done...

I've sent off the request. We'll see what happens...

It's funny how I've gotten Facebook friend requests from creepy kindergarten friends who track me down out of nowhere. How do they remember me? I was in their class for a year and they found me on Facebook? Was it an accident? Did they remember the name or was there something attached to the name? Because I guarantee that I probably only clicked accept because I remembered the name and nothing else. Heck, I did that for most of my elementary school friends...

How does a person's life count? How can one make an impact without being impacted themselves? I know it makes sense when I think about it; I've been impacted by youth pastors and teachers who probably barely remember me, but a peer?

Love. Stinking love. That's what it all boils down to.

Love God, love people. It's really quite simple.

But it's so very hard.

(If CJ is allowed to have these introspective, slightly mysterious posts, then so am I, darn it...)

Have a good day, everyone!

Shakespeare

Enter HAMLET

HAMLET

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

OPHELIA

Good my lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?

HAMLET

I humbly thank you; well, well, well.

OPHELIA

My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long to re-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.

HAMLET

No, not I;
I never gave you aught.

OPHELIA

My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,
Take these again; for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
There, my lord.

HAMLET

Ha, ha! are you honest?

OPHELIA

My lord?

HAMLET

Are you fair?

OPHELIA

What means your lordship?

HAMLET

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should
admit no discourse to your beauty.

OPHELIA

Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than
with honesty?

HAMLET

Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner
transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the
force of honesty can translate beauty into his
likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the
time gives it proof. I did love you once.

OPHELIA

Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.

HAMLET

You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot
so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of
it: I loved you not.

OPHELIA

I was the more deceived.

HAMLET

Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a
breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;
but yet I could accuse me of such things that it
were better my mother had not borne me: I am very
proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at
my beck than I have thoughts to put them in,
imagination to give them shape, or time to act them
in. What should such fellows as I do crawling
between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,
all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Where's your father?

OPHELIA

At home, my lord.

HAMLET

Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the
fool no where but in's own house. Farewell.

OPHELIA

O, help him, you sweet heavens!

HAMLET

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for
thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as
snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a
nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs
marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough
what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,
and quickly too. Farewell.

OPHELIA

O heavenly powers, restore him!

HAMLET

I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God
has given you one face, and you make yourselves
another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and
nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness
your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath
made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages:
those that are married already, all but one, shall
live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a
nunnery, go.

Exit

OPHELIA

O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;
The expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,
To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS

KING CLAUDIUS

Love! his affections do not that way tend;
Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
Will be some danger: which for to prevent,
I have in quick determination
Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected tribute
Haply the seas and countries different
With variable objects shall expel
This something-settled matter in his heart,
Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?

LORD POLONIUS

It shall do well: but yet do I believe
The origin and commencement of his grief
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;
We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;
But, if you hold it fit, after the play
Let his queen mother all alone entreat him
To show his grief: let her be round with him;
And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conference. If she find him not,
To England send him, or confine him where
Your wisdom best shall think.

KING CLAUDIUS

It shall be so:
Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.

Exeunt

I hope you all read that. Because it's amazing. Possibly one of my favorite scenes ever.

Ever.


And I read some of the sonnets tonight. I think they're tougher to understand than the plays, but oh so well written. Amazing.

This isn't that interesting...

I like contentment. I don't feel it very often, but when it happens, I like it. Lots.

I'm not going to lie. I like warmth and sunshine. Today was the most beautiful day in a long time and I think that is largely affecting my contented mood.

I don't mind.

On the way back from Compass today, Christian and I rolled down the windows and opened the sun roof, then took the long way back and blasted music the whole way. It was glorious.

I feel like I should put something really interesting here since I haven't really updated in a long while. I'm not sure I have anything all that interesting to say...

Yep. I got nothin.

Maybe whoever reads this (You know, you three people...) could leave me something interesting.

This...

is the most beautiful and sad thing I've ever seen.



Final Fantasy Tactics is being reworked, remastered, and recut. It's my favorite game.

It's being released on the PSP.

Bright Ideas...

Is over.

My life comes back to me after this week. I'll be able to get ahead on homework, actually do what I'm supposed to do, and maybe even get some extra-curricular studying (that'd be video games and such...)

Speaking of, Final Fantasy XII is really good. It has its moments where you wonder what's going on and why, but on the whole it's been amazing so far. (I can't believe he was a Judge!) The character development has been slow and steady, the plot is delightfully politcal, the world is given massive proportions (you don't save the world, you save a region...), and there's no massive love story given central attention (it's mostly past love for now...). Anyway, I could go on, but I won't.

I'm going to bed right now. Goodbye Mac, Genevra, Joshua, and everyone else... It's been fun.

Bright Ideas!

Bright Ideas! Bright Ideas! Bright Ideas!

Stinking Patrick Miller

So I got this email the other day from Patrick Miller. He said, essentially, "Hey Kemp, I was wondering if you wanted to talk about being an RA." I read, "Kemp, I think you'd make a good RA." I was planning on writing him a nice email letting him know that I was not planning on applying for a couple of reasons, but as I composed the email, I found myself actually thinking about it more.

So now I'm thinking about it more.

Reasons not to be an RA:

• I would have plenty of time to do theatre.
• I would have plenty of time to work at my new major. Film takes quite a bit of time to work at, so I'm told.
• I think I'm a better leader when I don't have a title. When I informally lead a group, say a Bible study or otherwise, I do it out of love and desire to do it. When I formally have a title, say Sherpa, my job is done like a job. It is no longer about love and desire, but about responsibility and obligation. As a Sherpa this year, I have felt more obligated to build really strong relationships with my Sherpees and guilty when I don't feel I am making an impact on their lives. I would much rather just love people because that's what I do. As an RA, I would be obligated to spend time with each of the men in my section. If I didn't have as strong relationships with some as I did with others due to my lack of pursuit of a relationship, I would feel terribly guilty.
  
• I don't like planning activities. I don't think I would dig coming up with section sneaks or section activities.
  
• I don't like having to report on conversations or do paperwork on students or any of the other nasty yuck RAs have to do.
• There's always that annoying fear that I won't be able to connect to the guys in my section. I just don't connect with some people, and I'd be afraid to have a section full of them.

Reasons to be an RA:

• Well, the pay is pretty nice. I know it's not exactly fair if you break it down by hour, but really, it's quite a hefty sum for a semester.
  
• It would look great on a resume.
  
• My RA was huge to me as a freshman in college. (Granted, that's probably because he was my suitemate and we had lots in common, but still...) I would have the opportunity to be that guy to others.
  
• I don't think I'd be terrible at it. Others seem to have great confidence in my ability to do it and have a positive impact.
  
• I kinda want to do it in a weird, masochistic kind of way, and junior year really would be the best time to try. I don't want to look back and say, "Man, I wish I would have been an RA."
• Is my self-assessment of my leadership really all that valid? (This can be an interactive question.) Would I still reach out to people if I didn't "have" to, or would I just turn into apathy? Is a leadership position something I have to have in order to funtion?

And then there's that whole God thing. I don't really want to be an RA, I think, but what if he knows better? I don't think he'd ask me to do something that I don't have much interest in doing, but then there's the example of the prophets and others who have asked God to find someone else.

And all this came about because I was trying to respond to Patrick Miller's rather simple email (that I have since found out was prompted by Mike Coon...). Stinking Patrick Miller.

P.S. I'm thinking I'll be good to not be an RA. If CUSG's flyers mean anything to me ("Be the Change you want to see!"), I should keep going in to Leadership Journey. Sirdars have little to nothing to do with curriculum or anything that I'd want to change. In fact, they are going to become general student orientation coordinators. Lame.

Thursdays

Thursdays are never as bad as they seem.

Life comes at you fast.

Don't you hate it when you have to make decisions that you don't think you're quite ready to make?

But then again, if the decision must be made, apparently God thinks you can make it. He gives us everything we need to face what we face, so the right answer must be out there.

Sleep time is now.

So... I had this idea.

I used to have a program that you could design your own RPGs on. It was kinda neat, but I never had the patience really to sit down and do it 1) Because I'm impatient about things like that, and 2) my ideas were too big.

So I had this idea to get that program again. But this time, I'll try to be more patient and I'll work on more manageable game ideas. Little mini-games that have a 2 hour story, maybe. Not 4o hour.

If I'm going to be making 5 minute films as a film major instead of feature films, why can't I make what amounts to a 5 minute video game?

I have no idea where this is going, so bear with me.

I feel it is time for an update. I don't, however, have any idea what to write about...

Next weekend, I'm going to the symphony! Yay! I didn't get the chance to go at all last semester, so I'm really excited about hearing some live music. They're performing something by Gershwin and something by Rachmaninoff, both of which Mike Coon is very excited about, so I am too. I heard a bit of the Rachmaninoff and asked him to turn it off, just so it could hit me for the first time live. I'm hoping my brain will start working again.

One of the funny things about life is that since I decided to pursue game design, my design brain hasn't really been working. I think the reason might be because I had to do a complete video game pitch in about three days... It certainly wasn't the quality that I would have liked it to be (although I still got a 95) and much will change when I revisit the story (I worked on that story almost exclusively in my Creative Writing class my junior year. I'd forgotten much of what I'd written.)

One of the things that pleasantly surprised me when I went home was rediscovering my old Creative Writing notebook. Believe it or not, it doesn't suck all that bad. Usually when you go back to look at your old written stuff, you think it's fully crap. The idea may still be good, but the writing is terrible. Now, either I was looking straight past the writing to the idea (which I normall don't), or the writing really wasn't that terrible... I thought that was a really neat.

Oh, and I stumbled across an idea I don't even remember, which is also weird. There's another problem, but it takes some explanation.

When I write, I write as if I'm already there with the character. Usually, this involves no small number of preunderstandings. There are people to know, history to understand, and general world information that just sits in my brain as I write. Usually, I make notes in the margin or make the necessary preunderstandings plain in my writing, but with this page or so of stuff, I didn't. I have very little idea what's going on... I vaguely remember something about dealing with church corruption by using a character in the church, but I don't quite remember why the church is corrupt or how he discovers it, etc... Oh well.

I need to go to bed. I think I shall. This is enough writing for now.