Samuel Huang

            I am furious about the Virginia Tech shootings. I am mad, of course, at the gunman, Cho Seung-Hui.

            But I am also mad at the Virginia Tech administration for disarming their students, even those with state-issued concealed handgun permits. I am mad at the state legislators who defeated House Bills 1572 and 2300, both of which would have guaranteed the Second Amendment rights of university students.

I am mad at Virginia Tech spokesman Larry Hincker for praising the defeat of HB 1572, saying that “this will help parents, students, faculty and visitors feel safe on our campus.” People like Mr. Hincker are the reason why 32 people died at Virginia Tech and 13 people died at Columbine, while only three people died at the Appalachian School of Law and only two people died at Pearl High School.

The 2002 shooting at the Appalachian School of Law was stopped by students Tracy Bridges, armed with a Ruger .357 magnum revolver, Mikael Gross, armed with a Beretta 9mm semi-auto, and Ted Besen. The 1997 shooting at Pearl High School was stopped by assistant principle Joel Myrick, armed with a Colt .45 semi-auto. Bridges, Gross, and Myrick all had to run to their vehicles to retrieve their guns, and could have stopped the shootings even sooner if they had been allowed to carry.

I am mad at the administrations of universities all across the nation, who choose to deprive students of their Constitutional and God-given right to effective self-defense. I am mad at legislators, state and national, who try do the same.

And finally, although I am hesitant to admit it, I am mad at some of the people who were there at Norris Hall, during the shooting. First, let me express my gratitude and admiration for the heroism demonstrated by several students and professors. 76-year-old professor Liviu Librescu, a Holocaust survivor, died blocking a door so his students could escape out the window. Professor Jocelyne Couture-Nowak and student Partahi Lumbantoruan died in a similar manner. Zach Petkewicz saved himself and 10 other students by barricading a door with a table. There are reports of other professors and students barricading doors.

Unfortunately, that seems to be all. I desperately hope further evidence will prove me wrong, but so far there have been no reports of attempts to tackle or otherwise disarm Cho, no attempts to incapacitate him. There have been far too many reports of students offering no resistance to Cho, or playing dead in hopes he would pass them by. I know I shouldn’t blame them, yet to some extent, I do.

Perhaps this will help you understand. I’ve made myself a promise. An oath, really. If I am ever in a situation like the Virginia Tech shooting, I will consider my life to no longer be my own. I will dedicate myself to stopping the murderer using the best means available: a gun if I am lucky enough to have one, a sharp or heavy object, or even my bare hands, if I am not. I’ve heard that even after being shot through the heart, a person has around 14 seconds of consciousness. I promise to use every one of those 14 seconds to incapacitate the murderer. On my honor, this I swear. And I hope that you will swear it too, because if enough of us do, a tragedy like this will never happen again.

Xmas and Christmas: A Lost Chapter from Herodotus

By C.S. Lewis

And beyond this there lies in the ocean, turned towards the west and north, the island of Niatirb which Hecataeus indeed declares to be the same size and shape as Sicily, but it is larger, though in calling it triangular a man would not miss the mark. It is densely inhabited by men who wear clothes not very different from the other barbarians who occupy the north western parts of Europe though they do not agree with them in language. These islanders, surpassing all the men of whom we know in patience and endurance, use the following customs.

In the middle of winter when fogs and rains most abound they have a great festival which they call Exmas and for fifty days they prepare for it in the fashion I shall describe. First of all, every citizen is obliged to send to each of his friends and relations a square piece of hard paper stamped with a picture, which in their speech is called an Exmas-card. But the pictures represent birds sitting on branches, or trees with a dark green prickly leaf, or else men in such garments as the Niatirbians believe that their ancestors wore two hundred years ago riding in coaches such as their ancestors used, or houses with snow on their roofs. And the Niatirbians are unwilling to say what these pictures have to do with the festival; guarding (as I suppose) some sacred mystery. And because all men must send these cards the marketplace is filled with the crowd of those buying them, so that there is great labour and weariness.

But having bought as many as they suppose to be sufficient, they return to their houses and find there the like cards which others have sent to them. And when they find cards from any to whom they also have sent cards, they throw them away and give thanks to the gods that this labour at least is over for another year. But when they find cards from any to whom they have not sent, then they beat their breasts and wail and utter curses against the sender; and, having sufficiently lamented their misfortune, they put on their boots again and go out into the fog and rain and buy a card for him also. And let this account suffice about Exmas-cards.

They also send gifts to one another, suffering the same things about the gifts as about the cards, or even worse. For every citizen has to guess the value of the gift which every friend will send to him so that he may send one of equal value, whether he can afford it or not. And they buy as gifts for one another such things as no man ever bought for himself. For the sellers, understanding the custom, put forth all kinds of trumpery, and whatever, being useless and ridiculous, they have been unable to sell throughout the year they now sell as an Exmas gift. And though the Niatirbians profess themselves to lack sufficient necessary things, such as metal, leather, wood and paper, yet an incredible quantity of these things is wasted every year, being made into the gifts.

But during these fifty days the oldest, poorest, and most miserable of the citizens put on false beards and red robes and walk about the market-place; being disguised (in my opinion) as Cronos. And the sellers of gifts no less than the purchaser's become pale and weary, because of the crowds and the fog, so that any man who came into a Niatirbian city at this season would think some great public calamity had fallen on Niatirb. This fifty days of preparation is called in their barbarian speech the Exmas Rush.

But when the day of the festival comes, then most of the citizens, being exhausted with the Rush, lie in bed till noon. But in the evening they eat five times as much supper as on other days and, crowning themselves with crowns of paper, they become intoxicated. And on the day after Exmas they are very grave, being internally disordered by the supper and the drinking and reckoning how much they have spent on gifts and on the wine. For wine is so dear among the Niatirbians that a man must swallow the worth of a talent before he is well intoxicated.

Such, then, are their customs about the Exmas. But the few among the Niatirbians have also a festival, separate and to themselves, called Crissmas, which is on the same day as Exmas. And those who keep Crissmas, doing the opposite to the majority of the Niatirbians, rise early on that day with shining faces and go before sunrise to certain temples where they partake of a sacred feast. And in most of the temples they set out images of a fair woman with a new-born Child on her knees and certain animals and shepherds adoring the Child. (The reason of these images is given in a certain sacred story which I know but do not repeat.)

But I myself conversed with a priest in one of these temples and asked him why they kept Crissmas on the same day as Exmas; for it appeared to me inconvenient. But the priest replied, "It is not lawful, O stranger, for us to change the date of Chrissmas, but would that Zeus would put it into the minds of the Niatirbians to keep Exmas at some other time or not to keep it at all. For Exmas and the Rush distract the minds even of the few from sacred things. And we indeed are glad that men should make merry at Crissmas; but in Exmas there is no merriment left." And when I asked him why they endured the Rush, he replied, "It is, O Stranger, a racket"; using (as I suppose) the words of some oracle and speaking unintelligibly to me (for a racket is an instrument which the barbarians use in a game called tennis).

But what Hecataeus says, that Exmas and Crissmas are the same, is not credible. For first, the pictures which are stamped on the Exmas-cards have nothing to do with the sacred story which the priests tell about Crissmas. And secondly, the most part of the Niatirbians, not believing the religion of the few, nevertheless send the gifts and cards and participate in the Rush and drink, wearing paper caps. But it is not likely that men, even being barbarians, should suffer so many and great things in honour of a god they do not believe in. And now, enough about Niatirb.

Psalm 73

Truly God is good to Israel,

To such as are pure in heart.

But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled;

My steps had nearly slipped.

For I was envious of the boastful,

When I saw the prosperity of the wicked.

For there are no pangs in their death,

But their strength is firm.

They are not in trouble as other men,

Nor are they plagued like other men.

Therefore pride serves as their necklace;

Violence covers them like a garment.

Their eyes bulge with abundance;

They have more than heart could wish.

They scoff and speak wickedly concerning oppression;

They speak loftily.

They set their mouth against the heavens,

And their tongue walks through the earth.

Therefore his people return here,

And waters of a full cup are drained by them.

And they say, “How does God know?

And is there knowledge in the Most High?”

Behold, these are the ungodly,

Who are always at ease;

They increase in riches.

Surely I have cleansed my heart in vain,

And washed my hands in innocence.

For all day long I have been plagued,

And chastened every morning.

If I had said, “I will speak thus,”

Behold, I would have been untrue to the generation of Your children.

When I thought how to understand this,

It was too painful for me—

Until I went into the sanctuary of God;

Then I understood their end.

Surely You set them in slippery places;

You cast them down to destruction.

Oh, how they are brought to desolation, as in a moment!

They are utterly consumed with terrors.

As a dream when one awakes,

So, Lord, when You awake,

You shall despise their image.

Thus my heart was grieved,

And I was vexed in my mind.

I was so foolish and ignorant;

I was like a beast before You.

Nevertheless I am continually with You;

You hold me by my right hand.

You will guide me with Your counsel,

And afterward receive me to glory.

Whom have I in heaven but You?

And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.

My flesh and my heart fail;

But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

For indeed, those who are far from You shall perish;

You have destroyed all those who desert You for harlotry.

But it is good for me to draw near God;

I have put my trust in the Lord God,

That I may declare all Your works.

Who I am

Samuel Huang

What creatures we are—

Good and evil both!

Light and dark combined

In a vessel of flesh.

Conflicted beings we are—

Warring against ourselves.

Knowing not which side to favor:

For we are both.

Both light and shadow am I!

Both good and evil is my soul.

But such an arrangement cannot last.

This inner war must have an end.

A house divided against itself cannot stand.

Either one, or the other, must prevail.

Yes, I am good and evil both!

But I would not have it this way.

I… deny myself.

I forsake who I am!

The shadow that is in me— I reject!

The evil that I do desire— I will not seek!

To be who I am is not enough.

I would be who I ought to be.

There is but one solid rock:

Your thoughts of me.

Who You would have me be: that is real!

All else is fleeting shadows, sinking sand.

Hold me close!

Whisper into my soul.

For it is only then

That I know who I am.