Monday, December 14, 2009

Christmas Reflections

Christmas changes.
Life changes— we all know that. But Christmas changes? Who would’ve thought?!
When I was little, on Christmas Eve, I slept at least six hours less than normal (a three hour reduction on each end).
My Santa Claus creed never changed (I never believed to begin with), but most people’s do after their parents break the awful truth to them or some Scrooge of a classmate spoils it (Confession: That was totally me. I’m sorry!).
My parents once bought my siblings’ presents and put my name on the box, but now I’m old enough to get it myself.
This time next year, I’ll have to come home from college for Christmas. So during the happy holidays, I’ll be living out of a suitcase. There’s something so strange about that…
Next year, I’ll have a brother-in-law in the family on Christmas morning.
Or maybe my sister will spend that day with her in-laws, and she’ll be missing from my Christmas morning.
Each passing Christmas brings changes— where everyone is traveling from, who they’re traveling with, new faces, and old ones missing.

The most surprising changes are the ones that occur in you. A year isn’t very long, but every Christmas I’m a slightly different person— and so are you, probably. It’s bizarre.
Think about that when you have a spare moment: What has happened in the past year? What new experiences have you gained? How have they changed you?
Trust me— it can turn into an interesting train of thought 

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Thoughtful Fluff

Tiger Woods is unfaithful. That’s detestable. He should pick one woman and stand by his choice. But honestly, people, why am I hearing about it everywhere I turn? The United States is fighting a war. Tiger Woods’ bedroom offenses are not the most important news stories circulating. Can anyone imagine his drama making it into a textbook, even in the “culture” recap of our decade? No.
Sad thing is: our society would rather hear about Tiger’s lust than about things that matter—probably because it is more carefree and frivolous. Listening to it requires no understanding, is not thought-provoking, and does not inspire fear or even deeply-felt concern (unless it causes you to despair about the state of society). The only response it may draw out is condemnation, an emotion that is so intimately connected to human nature that it’s always at the ready anyway.
Edward de Bono, a man I do not recall ever having heard of, once said, “Intelligence is something we are born with. Thinking is a skill that must be learned.” I agree with him. Instead, we are filling our minds with trivial gossip that will not have a lasting effect on our society or ourselves. Inundated with fluff, we never give ourselves the opportunity to think, or to deepen.
Thinking is a skill. Develop it.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

"The Tide"

Last week, my English teacher told us to write a poem by Monday. I'd written barely any poetry in my life, maybe two, with clumsy, forced rhymes. But I wrote one, and rather enjoyed it. And, bizzarely, I've been on a sort of poetry-writing kick ever since. Here's one of my favorite ones I've written so far:



The Tide

I was sitting on a rock
The salt breeze on my face
I started watching a young girl
She had breast buds and baby fat
She spent hours building a castle
Her friend building at her side
But the tide was coming in
The castle wasn't high enough
I saw that and she knew it too
Her friend left and ran into the surf
But she stayed there to rescue her castle
The tide swept in and ate away the foundation
She tried not to hear the voice coaxing her into the water
She stayed there trying and trying to save the futile kingdom

I drew away and returned the next day
But the only trace was a small, flattened mound

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Live and Let Live

The Fort Oglethorpe debate over cheerleaders’ signs has reached a national level. The cheerleaders put bible verses on their signs. Now eight years down the road, someone has spoken out against it, and the signs have been eliminated.
Let’s start by acknowledging that I am biased. I am a Christian, and that colors my perspective, just like any defining attribute would. However, despite my personal beliefs, I also believe strongly in separation of church and state. Why? Because other people hold their beliefs just as strongly as I do. Their creed is just as important to them as mine is to me.
That is not to say that I believe in relative truth. I believe that truth is simply truth. It is an unbending standard and doesn’t change from person to person. I believe that Jesus is “the way, the truth, and the life.” However, I am willing to respect the beliefs of others, even though I think they are incorrect.
I think that individuals have the right to embrace and express their personal beliefs. I can’t give enough support to the people in the stands holding signs. But there is a problem when government institutions endorse one set of beliefs as the cheerleaders did.
Having said that, let’s not be legalistic. Don’t spoil someone else’s joy just because you have the constitutional right to do it. One woman complained about the signs. Was she really genuinely offended by them? Or was she just being nasty because she knew she would win?
Here’s my policy:
1. Nobody should be a bully—not on either side of any argument.
2. And, as far as it is possible, live and let live.

Friday, October 23, 2009

The Job of a Journalist

It is the job of a journalist to report.
Different journalists may enjoy exaggerating for humor and effect, or they may prefer an unemotional statement of fact. Regardless of their writing style, the public counts on them for the truth.
Every American is not an eye-witness to every major event. Every American is not a fly on the wall of top-secret mischief. We the people must receive the facts from the “middleman” of this country: journalists.
With their connections and resources, they are privy to information that we can’t obtain otherwise. They have to be our informing eyes— spread out over the country and the world. Then, they report to us.
There are, therefore, two essential conclusions to draw here.
The first is that journalists must be honest—without polluting the facts or coloring the story with their personal opinion. They must tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Because we count on them for that.
The second is that they must not be meddled with. No outside party can interfere—not by blackmail, bribery, or bullying. This is not to say they should not be held accountable for any violation of my first point. I simply affirm that there is a reason why James Madison specified freedom of the press in the first amendment. Its inclusion was purposeful. Any interruption of the flow of news from the journalist to the public abuses the principles this country was founded on.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Boudica

Who is Boudica? It’s a reasonable question to ask. Though I made my blog her namesake, perhaps some of my thousands of followers could use a little clarification…
Back around 60 AD, Boudica was the queen of a part of England called Iceni. It was a time in history when the Romans were invading the island. In an attempt to reconcile the invading forces and the native people, the king of Iceni, Boudica’s husband, wrote his will leaving half of his land to the Romans and the other half to his two daughters. After his death, however, the troops flogged Boudica, raped her daughters, and took everything. This did not sit well with the good people of Iceni, so they rallied behind Boudica, joined forces with some neighboring tribes, and counterattacked. They won several victories against their oppressors, but— as it inevitably had to be— their revolt was ultimately squelched.
The point is that she tried. The odds were terrible, but she rallied the people behind herself and a greater cause. She fought back. So why did I name my blog after her? It’s simple: Boudica was a powerful and proactive woman.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

College

I was contemplating what to blog about today when I realized that was a silly thing for me to ponder. What better to blog about than the one cruel responsibility completely taking over my life? College. It is coming. It is heartless.
This season of my life is characterized by an endless onslaught of informational meetings, campus tours, blank applications, essay topics, and meanest of all—deadlines. That school wants this now, but that then. This school encourages those a month ago, and insists on it next week. The other school wants everything by then, except in the case of also applying for such-and-such, in which case this and that should be done first… Understandably, it’s a bit confusing.
With such a whirl of different demands, it does not help to remember that my future depends on the decision I make. But I must compartmentalize. That phase comes later. Presently, my only problem is applications. Best description: 100,000-pound elephant. A herd of them.