Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Fall of Modernity

So we are, as our own government tells us, in a war of civilizations—a national testing in which we will emerge triumphant, the true beacon and best hope of humankind or else find ourselves destroyed, the detritus of history. This is not simply inflated rhetoric. It is avowed American policy.

Save Darfur!

Friday, February 23, 2007

Deep Thought Friday: Scholarship is stating the obvious

Scholarship consists of knowing enough that when you state the obvious you state something profound.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Short Story Sund... er... Monday: Mt. Akedot

So... on the plus side I finished the first chapter of my dissertation... on the negative side I took Sunday completely off, walked to Grandchester, participated in an extra evening worship, and saw "An Inconvenient Truth" at Christ College Theater.
Fear not though, I've written a short story today.

Mt. Akedot

They came from the boy’s cabin, Dirk, Phillip, and Anthony. Dirk first, Phillip and Anthony prodding him to go up to the girl’s cabin.
“Emily,” he said, looking into the cabin.
“Yeah?” she replied.
“Let’s go up the big hill tonight.”
“Yeah,” she said, and they agreed on the time and the place.
That night, when the lights were out, Emily got up, with Harriet, her bunkmate, and they went out of the cabin, through the woods, and met the three boys at a campfire.
“Hey,” she said.
“Yeah?” he replied, looking up, and smiling at her. He looked so grown-up to her.
“Let’s go,” he said, getting up from the fire.
“Yeah, let’s,” she agreed.
They went up through the forest, the five of them.
After three hours Harriet said, “Let’s go back, otherwise Tina will catch us out after lights out.”
Phillip looked at his grown-up looking pocket watch. Emily looked up at the hill. It was close.
“I want to go up the hill,” she said.
“Yeah,” Dirk agreed.
So they parted ways. The three went back, the two up.
As they went up the hill became steep. Emily started to fall down.
“Emily,” Dirk said, catching her by the hand.
“Dirk,” she said, righting herself.
And they went up together, holding hands.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to be an architect. How about you?”
“A construction worker, like my dad.”
They continued up, holding hands. Look! They reached the top of the hill. To their left the first squinting lines of sunlight were shining up at them. To their right the moon, luminescent and tranquil, was descending. The whole sparse Wyoming landscape was radiating with the power of the greater and the lesser light.