Ab ovo usque ad mala

I'm not writing anything new here, nothing that hasn't been thought of before. But I think it's significant when a person realizes for herself what it really means to believe in a God who is infinite and creates and maintains a universe with infinite space and time. The feeling is similar to the one that I get--fear--when I think about the fact that I must one day cease to live as I know it and enter a new form of existence--or none at all. As a Christian, I am expected to insist without doubt that what follows life is heaven and eternal dwelling with God. However, to do this myself would constitute intellectual dishonesty. Thus, I align myself with these beliefs but cannot eradicate completely the abysmally discomforting uncertainty that must lurk behind this most comforting answer to this most fundamental of questions. Thus...the fear. Although fear is a woefully inadequate word for this feeling. "Abject terror" comes a little closer to the feeling. "

Just found out the same people who make Virgil's Root Beer make ginger "brews", I guess they're like ginger ale or ginger beer. It's a company called Reed's. I'm going to conduct some scientific experiments to determine if they become my new favorite company. But they are hereby nominated.

I was at orientation yesterday and the Dean of Students mentioned a couple things about rumors, mainly that one should not believe them. That being said, even if all rumors were false, that would not mean that rumors are useless or should be ignored. Rumors seem to start in an atmosphere of either boredom or fear. And even boredom is a type of fear: (often collective) fear that one's life has come to a place where meaning is fleeting, where one is not content with things as they are but is reluctant to venture anything to make them better. Few ever seem to know where a rumor begins. Perhaps this is because the beginning of a rumor is so small that one does not notice it as such. It is a pine nut, a mustard seed. A seed of rumor grows because it finds fertile ground. A rumor can confirm our worst fears. It can incite us to anger, or shock us in ways that the truth rarely does. I find rumor in the times when those around me are in a state of uncertainty and want definite answers that

I've been synchronizing my phone with my PC for a while, and because of repeated exposure to something I've concluded is counterintuitive, I feel I must cast my vote on the proper spelling of the abbreviated progressive tense: Synching. Here are three reasons why we should be synching and not syncing: 1. The pronunciation of "syncing" would naturally be "sin-sing." 2. "Synching" has been in use in print and online in the "lip synching" sense for decades now. 3. "Synching" more closely points back to the word it's abbreviating. And here's a bonus reason: 4. "Syncing" just looks retarded. Now, I know people would be tempted to read it "sin-ching" like they're celebrating monetary success ("I just won ten bucks at slots! Sin ching!"). They may even start classifying it as a homonym to "cinching." But I think there are enough words in the English language that use "ch" f

I will join the consensus on the Internet and cast my vote that Paul Graham is a genius. Samples of his essays: Stuff Identity .

David Carradine (72), Ed McMahon (86), Farrah Fawcett (62), Michael Jackson (50), Billy Mays (50). And I am not the only one to have noticed this. Gentlemen, start up your conspiracy theories...Seriously, I kind of want to propose one of my own. They weren't really young...some had health issues, some didn't. Man, man, woman; man, man: should we be expecting another famous woman to die now? In Robert Ludlum style, I can't really imagine a plausible theory that these deaths would really fulfill some evildoer's devious plan. Depress the American public, so that...? Plus, I think that Michael Jackson alone would be enough. Well, my money is on a famous woman to die. Some bloggers say Elizabeth Taylor. Who knows? I won't wish it on anyone. No one should have to go before their time.