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| Hey, do people still use this thing any more?
Jared to world, Jared to world, if you read me, reply.
Oh, so I go to check my "footprints" (Who decided that one?) and there's three dudes from Belgium. Belgium. What the heck do they want with me? Go make your own xanga, losers. Back in the day, we didn't even have footprints! What was that, the land of glass, where no one made an imprint anywhere? Now we've got footmarks from Belgium. It's like messages in a bottle, except in the sand, not the ocean. It's just weird, I don't get it. Stalkers.
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| Remember the good old days? The ones where we were like one big happy family?
It's funny, looking back sugarcoats so many things, while looking ahead is like eating my mom's meatless meatloaf.
I. Don't. Wanna. Go back. To school. People are transient, and sometimes it seems like the only real thing out there is a career. I find myself sympathizing more and more with workaholics. There's something about work that will never end. People will come and go, but the next position or pay grade or assignment or contact will always be there.
Incidentally, I also find myself sympathizing with the Mormons. I mean, marriage is pretty much the most long-term relationship one can have outside of family. So if ya gotta marry 'em to keep 'em close, do it, man. Ya gotta feel the love, man. It's like we're all Gods kids, man, and He loves us and dude, we just gotta! What was I just talking about, man?
So here's the thing. I love Philadelphia. I love the people there. I don't love Purcellville, and the people? Shayeesh. The jury's still out. But hey. Maybe I can hope that one day my peeps in Philly will see the irresistible allure of the country aura. Yeah, good luck on that one.
In closing, I'd like to admonish all of my readers of one unchangeable rule. Life is always, always, always better with a little sibling on your lap or next to you or both or four at a time, even if you hafta adopt 'em to fill the quota. It's just the way it goes, and the sooner you learn that, the happier you'll be until you have to leave them. Then it's a different story. But at least you've got the memories. Right? Right.
Have a good life, folks. It's been fun. Oh, and by the way, my mom doesn't regularly make meatless meatloaf. That was kind of a fad. Like banana boards, hula hoops and chewing gum. Chewing gum was invented by the Chinese railway worker Lee Chew, did you know that? I didn't think so.
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| Ok. So while I was, of course, listening to every detail of the panel discussion this afternoon I managed to find time to write this. It's based on Dr. Veith's sarcastic comment that Dr. Smith was "touchy-feely." Enjoy.
"Touchy-feely"? Dr. Smith?
Someone, please, dispel this myth!
Horrors and terrors his class compounded
Aristotle, Plato expounded.
Feelings of readings merely half-done,
"Dr. Smith"? That name my heart does shun.
"Properly basic," Plantinga no less,
Someone come pull me out of this mess.
Then, moving on, to Descartes we go,
Please interrupt the hideous flow.
What do I believe? Why is this so?
These are the things I used to know.
But then this fellow came down with a laugh,
Aschewing all with insidious craft.
Now that he's come, what can I believe?
Nothing, I think, can my mind relieve.
"Bah," he says, "Why?" He repeats,
As students squirm and sweat in their seats.
Maybe one day I'll get away,
Probably not, but I'll hope anyway.
"Good-bye," I'll say with my own little laugh,
Hoping to God that mine was the last.
Love,
Jared
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| I'm in a poetical mood with not much to say. My muse has long since vanished.
Forthwith, oh muse, where go you now?
Stay a while, drink with me.
Can the journey thither wait?
Can the load of toil be eased?
No, off she goes. Mostly she's here when I need her most. Now the piano doesn't even beckon.
Yes, I see, go forth from here.
Take my glorious triumphs, too.
Come again, dare to dare,
Yet once more? I think not.
Not sure why. Neither is my mind's fancy turning, nor are my ears' lofty goals projecting.
Leave me now, this I pray,
Turn your back, run away.
See the sun and mood defied?
Thus and such, how they cried.
Onward, however, to the gloom of present, the pain of past, and what must not be if we will it and so.
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| In Memoriam, Philadelphia Eagles
2006-2007
Rest in Peace
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