Inappropriate sharing, incomprehensible ramblings, uncalled-for hostility: yup, it's a blog.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

A Christmas Letter

Hello, friends and family! Wow, it's been a year, amirite? Dictators out or dead, Osama bin Laden caught, the protests all over the world, and the final shot of this season's 'Breaking Bad'!

As we all know, a year goes by fast! There's no stopping it--a year begins whether you want it to or not, and keeps shooting forward with little regard for anything. A year is like a bad joke--it doesn't care who laughs, and is usually over before anyone can say, Holy jesus, that was a bad joke.

Ha!

The first thing you'll want to know, I'm sure, is that Greg and I are still without children. You'll want to know this because it guarantees that this Christmas letter will be very short. Unlike other Christmas letters you may or may not receive, this one will be free of updates on soccer games or academic prowess. Here's all I'll say about our child: We don't have one.

We do, however, have a dog. Waffles. Waffles doesn't play soccer, and he has a very difficult time in academics. Which is a shame, because he tries so hard to master the alphabet and mathematical concepts not even I comprehend. Waf's main talent is pooping. Some day, G and I hope it will get him into a good school. Already, he's pooped at both Columbia and Princeton. We're certain he'll manage to poop at Harvard soon--he's a prodigy at pooping, and Harvard should be honored to have him.

This year started off just as badly as the previous year ended, which makes sense since the previous year was just the day before, and ended badly. Turns out the secret to beginning the year well is to not end the previous year badly. What a difference a day doesn't make. Unless you or a loved one dies on December 31st, in which case a day does make a bit of a difference (and I'm very sorry for your loss).

Things got better, for a time. Then things got worse. Then things got better again. Both Greg and I are employed, which is a good thing. Waffles remains unemployed, but he posts a lot to Craigslist and we're hoping any day work will come through for him. He went on a few interviews, and we continue to support him both emotionally and financially as he continues to search for work in this dreadful economy.

"It's not you," we assure him. "It's the job market. Right now, there's no need for a dog who's got a degree in pooping. The last 'Beethoven' movie was over a decade ago, and you're too good for a straight to video release."

Despite living on 2/3rd income, 2011 has been successful. Greg and I have managed to work out a system: We stagger our meals. I eat Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Greg eats Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. We alternate Saturdays, and both eat on Sundays. Waffles gets a full meal all seven days--we don't want to make him self-conscious over his lack of employment. The understanding is we get to share his food on Sundays. Purina isn't so bad once you wash it down with scotch.

This is certainly an improvement over 2010, when G and I would simply pop one of Waffles' vitamins on Sundays, and confine ourselves to bed, exerting ourselves as little as possible.

So here's hoping for peace on Earth (again; all the other planets have peace so surely wishing for it on Earth will work eventually), health (or at least insurance), and a new work-place need for dogs who can both poop and lick their absent balls at the same time.

Here's to a wonderful 2012. 2011 isn't ending so badly, so 2012 has a lot to live up to.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Essay written by a student who hasn't read the material

Inspired by teacher-friends who are currently bitching, via Facebook, about their students' midterm essays.


The Anti-Narrator and His/Her Place in Literature

When God wrote the Bible, He did not write it. He guided it. So it is true of The Catcher in the Rye, a book supposedly written by a guy named Holden Caulfield, but in reality written by one JD Savinger. Just like God, Savinger channels Holben's voice to create a brilliant portrait of humanity. Unlike God, Savinger existed.

Which is not to say God never existed. To wit: we would not be here if God did not exist.  Also, without God, there would be no Bible, and we all know there is a Bible,  just as there is a book called The Snatcher in the Wry. God existed, and JD Savinger existed. Sholden Caulfield did not exist. He was a creation of his Creator, just as the characters of the Bible were creations of their own Creator. Therefore, God existed. JD Saginer existed. The respective books are proof that both God and Sagnior existed.

This essay is not about who existed and who didn't, however. Therefore, it is not the intention to prove the existence of God. Who did exist.

"If you really want to hear about it," Holden says in the opening sentence of The Canker in the Dry, "you'll want to hear about how I believed in God, and all that. But my parents would have two hemorrhages each if they knew, so I've got to pretend to be a gosh-darn atheist."  Contrast this opening sentence to the one God directed some guy to write for the Bible:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

Profound differences, to be sure! Halston Carfield is cautious, not quite sure 'if you really want to hear about it,' while God's writer is declarative, stating straight out that He, in the beginning, created the heavens and the earth. No one had a hemorrhage, and no one pretended to be an atheist. God is clearly the better writer, even when He is not writing. His anti-narrator is much better at crafting sentences.

Secondly-- just in case I forgot to make a first point--Sainger copies God's true writing style by stealing from Dickens. It's not important how Savinger stole from Dickens, but what is important is that God inspired Dickens to write that book all professors like--the one with the fire and the jilted ladies and the redeemed prisoners. Sainger knew that his Holden character would need redemption so he drew heavily from both the Bible and from Dickens. All good writers know how to steal from God, just as all good humans know that it is impossible to steal from God. God gives freely to one and all. He inspires writers, He inspires illiterates, He inspires professors who grade on a scale. Everyone steals from God and His creations because it is impossible to avoid stealing from the Master of All Things. When one has created The Greatest Story of All Time, one can dole out plot-points as freely as President Obama doles out tax dollars to unworthy poor people.

In closing, one must not discount how important the Bible is in scientific discovery, and how insignificant The Cooter in the Sly has been. Houston Clawfeld does not impact quantum physics. God does. God shaped the writing of numerous literate people (men!) when crafting his masterpieces: the Earth and the Bible; Savinger shaped only a handful of scribbling people (men and women!) when crafting his "masterpiece," The Clunker in the Lie.

God is a great writer, who doesn't actually write but compels writing in others.  JD Saginger is a result of God's influence, because of Dickens, and doesn't compel anyone to write anything. In closing, again, it must be said without any doubt that I preferred the Bible over any other work.

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