Friday, December 10, 2010
Tonight, however, I ate cookies. For most adults and the majority of toddlers, this isn't a headline making event. For me, sugar is outside the scope of my diet. I'd say it has the same affect on me as chocolate-coated coffee beans, but chocolate-coated coffee beans would stop my heart. So, no, it's not like that. It just makes me wired. Unable to sleep. Restless. It can even prompt me to tweet, which, when done on sugar, isn't much different than drunk dialing.
So take into consideration the extent of my conscious mind before I'll click on a video of a compilation of Wednesday night's late-night television. Basically, I have to be drugged.
I thought I'd share. Enjoy what you can. There are even Obama jokes now. And it only took two years of insane spending, flubs, inaccuracies, factual fallacies, ridiculous quotes, missteps, a grassroots opposing movement, international leaders mocking him, and a historic vote of conservatives in the House.
They're only a Presidential candidacy and half-term late. That's comedy on the cutting-edge.
Poor Letterman. He just can't bring himself to harm The One without attacking Palin, since jokes about her have never been tried before.
I wonder what Letterman would do if he ever stumbled onto a dead horse.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Some people will sign anything that includes phrases like, ”global effort,” “international community,” and “planetary.” Such was the case at COP 16, this year’s United Nations Conference on Climate Change in Cancun, Mexico.
This year, CFACT students created two mock-petitions to test U.N. Delegates. The first asked participants to help destabilize the United States economy, the second to ban water.
My favorite line about Dihydrogen Monoxide, i.e. H20: "It's the major ingredient in acid rain."
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
"Aslan symbolises a Christ-like figure but he also symbolises for me Mohammed, Buddha and all the great spiritual leaders and prophets over the centuries. That’s who Aslan stands for as well as a mentor figure for kids – that’s what he means for me."
man paid for his ability to be anyone but himself
PS That's like how:
- When I read H.G. Wells, I can't help but think of childhood toys. That's right, The Shape of Things To Come, symbolizes for me...Play-Dough.
- Or when I've read excerpts from Sal Alinsky's Rules for Radicals. I don't see a progressive/liberal/communist manifesto. No. I see a country cookbook with recipes for shepherd's pie and plum pudding.
- When I hear the story of Che Guevara, I think of how the man was fighting against impossible odds for the right to wear pantaloons. White, lacy ones.
- And atheist Richard Dawkins? For me, he symbolizes the Easter Bunny, the Toothfairy, Horton the Elephant, Charlie Sheen, and Theodore Huxtable.
As long as we don't let something like truth hamper us, we're so fancy free to believe anything we want. Just like taking C.S. Lewis, a devout and infamous Christian writer, and his amazing childhood story about Jesus Christ and believing it can represent the very things that are His polar opposite.
You might be interested in the reaction from C.S. Lewis' former secretary:
Darn. And I really liked him.
Walter Hooper, Lewis’s former secretary and a trustee of his estate, said the author would have been outraged.
"It is nothing whatever to do with Islam," he said. "Lewis would have simply denied that. He wrote that the 'whole Narnian story is about Christ'. Lewis could not have been clearer."
He attributed Neeson’s remarks to political correctness and a desire to be ‘very multicultural’, adding: "I don’t know Liam Neeson or what he is thinking about… but it was not Lewis’s intention."
Friday, December 3, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
But I digress.
The history of the holiday has always intrigued me. Something had to be missing. I could nearly feel it. Maybe I learned the full story in grade school and grew up to forget it, my subconscious pinging every once in a while when some liberal teacher, politician, talking head told me we were celebrating how Native-Americans saved the day.
That just didn't seem right.
Not that I'm degrading their contribution. Heck, I AM Native-American. Cherokee, in fact. My ancestors, on both sides, were sitting at that table on that fateful first feast. But to end there, it felt incomplete.
I've been writing stories my entire adult life. I've been reading them in droves, too. When it ends wrong, when it leaves a vacancy, I feel an ache in my bones. Something in that story went awry. I know like I know my writer's arthritis.
That's how I've always felt about Thanksgiving, as if a chunk - one I had known as a child - had been omitted.
Now, at last, is - as Paul Harvey would say - the rest of the story. This is the real Thanksgiving story, one confirmed by historic facts I already knew from David Barton's Wallbuilders. Heat up your leftovers and enjoy.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
So I spent a year walking with my head down and concentration stretching my brow. It isn't as easy as it sounds, not when your school is tiled, your walkways are aging cement, and your roads are brick.
Asphalt and carpet came later.
That was my worst hobby. My second worst, however, was starving myself. And that, in comparison, was very easy. It wasn't about doing an activity. It was about not doing an activity. Not eating.
I was good at it, too. After a few months, I got so good at not eating I could do it in my sleep.
Last week, in the throws of a stomach flu that had more love for me than I had for it, I couldn't help remembering those idiotic days of anorexia. It's been over a decade since I decided a smaller jean size was worth death. These days, I'd rather be healthy than scrawny. Actually, I'd rather not be scrawny at all. Curves, I've found, are actually quite girlish. Who knew.
For days, while Thanksgiving turkey and pumpkin pie were on everyone's mind and plate, I got excited about consuming a fourth-cup of milk. It's a strange situation to find starvation actually feels familiar. A definite sign of youthful ignorance, I suppose. Or the sad fact we women have a hard time ever finding our sense of self.
Now a week later, I'm a little thinner, a lot less dehydrated, and working on wooing my appetite back to it's former glory. I'm willing to slather butter on everything until it does. That's love, my friends. True devotion.
So in the interest of making everything, including a flu bug, educational, I'd like to share the ten things I've learned from not eating:
1. Animals make the best meals.
2. Not eating is a real time saver, except for those moments of blackout.
3. It's totally true. Nothin' says lovin' like the Pillsbury Dough boy.
4. For every meal I miss, I visit it back tenfold.
5. Snickers really satisfies, as do chocolate cupcakes.
6. If you forget to say grace, repeat the meal, as necessary, until you remember.
7. Cardboard sign or not, everyone works for food.
8. Leftovers are a great way to show you believe in second chances.
9. The thing that separates us from the animals is that we chew our food.
10. If you lose your sense of wonder, find it again in the bread aisle.
For everything else, there's muffins.
If only he'd gotten her new pot-scrubbers, all of this could have been avoided.