I have a few items of interest to share tonight. Some of the things I say may not apply to you. Some of the
things I say may offend you. But no matter who you are, you must remember this one thing: Tonight you've gotta
party like it's 1999! (corny, I know, but I couldn't resist!)
* * *
CANTERBURY, ENGLAND, A.D.999:
An atmosphere close to panic prevails today throughout Europe as the millennial year 1000 approaches, bringing with it the so-called "Y1K Bug," a menace which, until recently, hardly anyone had ever heard of. Prophets of doom are warning that the entire fabric of Western Civilization, based as it now is upon monastic computations, could collapse, and that there is simply not enough time left to fix the problem.
Just how did this disaster-in-the-making ever arise? Why did no one anticipate that a change from a three-digit to a four-digit year would throw into total disarray all liturgical chants and all metrical verse in which any date is mentioned? Every formulaic hymn, prayer, ceremony and incantation dealing with dated events will have to be re-written to accommodate three extra syllables. All tabular chronologies with three-space year columns, maintained for generations by scribes using carefully hand-ruled lines on vellum sheets, will now have to be converted to four-space columns, at enormous cost. In the meantime, the validity of every official event, from baptisms to burials, from confirmations to coronations, may be called into question.
"We should have seen it coming ," says Brother Cedric of St. Michael's Abbey, here in Canterbury. "What worries me most is that thousand contains the word thou, which occurs in nearly all our prayers, and of course always refers to God. Using it now in the name of the year will seem almost blasphemous, and is bound to cause terrible confusion. Of course, we could always use Latin, but that might be even worse - the Latin word for thousand is mille - which is the same as the Latin for mile. We won't know whether we're talking about time or distance!"
Stonemasons are already reported threatening to demand a proportional pay increase for having to carve an extra numeral in all dates on tombstones, cornerstones and monuments. Together with its inevitable ripple effects, this alone could plunge the hitherto-stable medieval economy into chaos.
A conference of clerics has been called at Winchester to discuss the entire issue, but doomsayers are convinced that the matter is now one of personal survival. Many families, in expectation of the worst, are stocking up on holy water and indulgences.
* * *
A letter written late in the year 1B.C.:
Dear Marcus:
Are you still working on the Y zero K problem? This change from BC to AD is giving us a lot of headaches and we haven't much time left. I don't know how people will cope with working the wrong way around. Having been working happily downwards forever, now we have to start thinking upwards. You would think that someone would have thought of it earlier and not left it to us to sort it all out at this last minute.
I spoke to Augustus the other evening. He was livid that Julius hadn't done something about it when he was sorting out the calendar. He said he could see why Brutus turned nasty. We called in Consultus, but he simply said that continuing downwards using minus BC won't work and as usual charged a fortune for doing nothing useful. Surely we will not have to throw out all our hardware and start again?
Macrohard will make yet another fortune out of this I suppose. The money lenders are paranoid of course! They have been told that all usury rates will invert and they will have to pay their clients to take out loans. Its an ill wind... As for myself, I just can't see the sand in an hourglass flowing upwards. We have heard that there are three wise men in the East who have been working on the problem, but unfortunately they won't arrive until it's all over.
I have heard that there are plans to stable all horses at midnight at the turn of the year as there are fears that they will stop and try to run backwards, causing immense damage to chariots and possible loss of life. Some say the world will cease to exist at the moment of transition. Anyway, we are still continuing to work on this blasted Y zero K problem. I will send a parchment to you if anything further develops.
If you have any ideas please let me know.
Your friend, Plutonius
Tuesday, December 28, 1999
History has shown us that large-scale planned economies generally fail; witness the utter failure of the
so-called Communist governments of the former East Bloc nations (as they did not truly adhere, IMHO,to Marx's
"Communist Manifesto", perhaps they should not really be labelled as Communist... the document turned out to
be more exploited for propaganda value than for guidelines of government, or theoretical lack of). In
addition, judging from the recent failure of Long-Term Capital Management, even among the most lauded minds in
economics, assisted by among the best simulations and projections one can obtain, can still fail utterly when
trying to predict things based upon their understanding of economics.
So what is this talk among some of the *political* leaders of this planet about trying to ensure prosperity
(in theory) and preventing what they see as the utterly destructive nature of the fickle markets? That is, why
are some talking about trying to *stop* economic cycles?
It may sound all fine and good, but keeping in mind that if we *really* understood the complex interactions
with over 4 billion consumers forming the constantly evolving economy, then wouldn't we really be in
possession of a solution to an incredibly complex, iterative system in which we have imperfect information?
Unlike, say, the nice clean world of arithmetic, even if we had complete knowledge of all the inputs, we don't
understand the structure and processes involved, and thus imperfect info quite likely dooms any such effort to
manipulate the global systems en masse.
But hey, if you do not accept the ramblings of some raving, probably ego-centric, possibly crazy student -
which would be admirable; the author *hopes* you are treating everything here with utmost cynicism, especially
since he does not even pretend to have a background in almost anything he's going off about... you should
still consider the weight of history, and think about what such an effort (managing the world...) would
*really* entail. And what would be required...
Monday, December 27, 1999
One sometimes wonders about the origins of priorities. Some of us manage to remain quite focused upon tasks at
hand, and seem to be driven from within; others among us (the author confesses to being within this latter
group) appear to lack such dedication. Perhaps we procrastinate through frivolous amusements; alternately,
commencement of a task may not imply a continuous attempt towards completion, but could instead be interrupted
countless numbers of times for various reasons. The author suspects that he himself is guilty of both of them,
as the mere existence of this utterly pointless file of monologues - which, presumably, has a current
readership of one and is not intended in any event for any significant audience - should be ample evidence
indeed.
An interesting question is *why* this sort of behavior exists. Permit even more unjustified speculation than
one might normally find in this text, and regard the following pair of dimensions.
Nature versus nurture: It is quite possible that such behavior is at least partly learned. One seemingly
logical cause might be a relatively indulgent, relaxed upbringing, but that's more towards pop psychology and
not philosophy...
Non-devastating impact: Procrastination and dawdling - at least, in our modern, technologically adept society
- is somewhat easier. Depending upon one's niche, not all vocations demand a continuous level of effort. This
is particularly true of students, for whom many of which late-night cram sessions and rush jobs on papers are
not completely unfamiliar occurences. Even a business executive scheduled to make a presentation to an
important prospective client, while in a more crucial situation, has it somewhat easier than in days of old.
For purposes of contrast, consider the hypothetical medieval European petty noble, whom might be expected by
his suzerain to deliver a specific amount of taxes by a certain date. Someone in that position risks utter
personal annihilation should he in his duty fail; for most civillian positions within modern society, failure
may bring grievous pain, but not necessarily permanent destruction.
Theoretically, there is an argument to be made that some puttering and dawdling is beneficial. It may seem
tangential, but some psychological studies have suggested that those facing complicated problems may have an
easier time finding insight if not driving themselves mercilessly against it, but instead occasionally
accepting distraction. In addition, time not spent on specific tasks with known objectives might be useful for
more creative pursuits, but the author begs to leave off that line of reasoning, for utter lack of competence
in the more artistic pursuits...
Eh well. Speculate onwards.
Saturday, December 25, 1999
Merry Christmas! I don't have much more to say; I have many things to be done today. I hope everyone enjoys
the rest of their holiday and got everything they wanted for Christmas! Everyone sit back and relax and enjoy
the calmness of Christmas, because next week... Let's just say we won't be relaxing.
Friday, December 24, 1999
Luke 2:1-20
1
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.
2
(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)
3
And everyone went to his own town to register.
4
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.
5
He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.
6
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,
7
and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.
9
An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
10
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
11
Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ1 the Lord.
12
This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
15
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."
16
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.
17
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child,
18
and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.
19
But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
20
The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
1. Or Messiah. "The Christ" (Greek) and "the Messiah" (Hebrew) both mean "the Anointed One."
Thursday, December 23, 1999
Let us continue the unfocused ramblings of the author with an eye towards the idiosyncracies of mankind. Of
all the observed species upon our fair planet, Homo sapiens appears to be the only one definitely observed to
feel discontent. From the very first days when our ancestors picked up the assorted detritus of nature to
employ as (accidental?) tools, to the development of agriculture, to the frantic innovation of our modern,
forward-thinking era, mankind has continually advanced itself in terms of thought, perceptions, technology,
and most other aspects not immediately tied to our physiology.
Why?
Or, perhaps more to the point, why just Man? And how would we react if, say, we found that our belief that we
are the only such self-improving species was not truly justified? Given that the known universe is most likely
home to many, many worlds, it would seem plausible that something which arguably could be termed life would
exist on at least a few more out there. That is, Earth may not be the only world with something plausibly
called life. We may, however, live on the only such planet within a very large region of space, a region that
increases in size along with the expansion of the universe. Even assuming that some life exists out there in a
comprehensible form, and even supposing against further improbabilities that such life is not only intelligent
but is not so different so as to preclude communication, Man may still be essentially alone.
Feel free to sign that lonely collection of bytes on a computer hundreds of miles from here that we
collectively know as my guestbook. It needs the excitement of a few fun-loving teenage minds and hearts. Go,
sign, and be free! *sigh*
Wednesday, December 22, 1999
The eccentric John Rocker again bashed New Yorkers, particularly Mets fans, and the city's residents in this
week's issue of Sports Illustrated. Not that I wasn't prepared for another outburst of flames towards New
York, I don't like the place much myself, but John Rocker didn't exactly choose his words wisely:
"Imagine having to take the 7 train to Shea [Stadium] looking like you're in Beirut next to some kid with
purple hair, next to some queer with AIDS, right next to some dude who got out of jail for the fourth time,
right next to some 20-year-old mom with four kids. It's depressing."
.....
"The biggest thing I don't like about New York are the foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times
Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and
Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?"
John Rocker stirred controversy during the National League playoffs in October by calling New York fans
"stupid asses," and "a tired act" before the Braves arrived in New York. That made him a target of Mets fans
in the three games played at Shea Stadium. Continuing his tirade against Mets fans, "Nowhere else in the
country do people spit at you, throw bottles at you, throw quarters at you" and, he said, make vulgar comments
about your mother."
Rocker claims he would retire before ever playing for a New York team. From what I've read, I believe the city
would self destruct before allowing Rocker to play on its behalf.
Tuesday, December 21, 1999
While one might, as per Descartes, resort to the vaguely ontological argument for the existence of a perfect,
benevolent omnipotent entity and from there derive the existence of the universe (after regarding thought as
proof of existence as, at the minimum a thinking being), this author (as I will refer to him) - should he
exist - is dissatisfied with the all-crucial ontological argument. In addition, you, oh Reader - assuming that
you are not the author; this not being a high-traffic corner of the Web, one might actually suspect that
conjecture of being normally false - do not have access to the actual thoughts of the author, but simply to
this set of 1s and 0s which purport to be the recording medium for these. You are most likely using some form
of device to transform the binary details into a something comprehensible, but which may have little
connection with how the author actually intends.
Why do I say this? Surely, the author realizes that he is, by most accounts, writing in a fairly common
"language" known as English, or - in deference to our allies in Albion, across the Pond - that variant known
as contemporary, American English. As such, it is presumably understandable to many with essentially the same
meanings to all those who have such otherwise non-fascinating lives that they've reached this far, rather than
merely dismissed the existence of this file as simply more evidence in suggesting, at the least, the
eccentricity and perhaps overly philosophical nature of the author. Also, it would be rather odd for a
document to exist without an author - so, surely, does not the author admit he exists?
Quite freely, yes. My suspicion is that it is impossible to prove this without making assumptions that would
have horrified Descartes - generally with the intent of providing some more information than that the author
is a thinking being, but perhaps to also suggest that the simplest explanation ala Ockham would be that we do
exist, rather than that there exist one or more purely delusional, thinking beings whose sensory "input" has
no factual basis.
The odd point is - what is it that enables disparate organisms to reach a mutual understanding about the
semantics of language? Few would suggest that we somehow directly share thoughts through, say, telepathy; yet,
we can communicate about even abstract concepts with a fair degree of success. For instance, many languages
presumably have ways to express such concepts as "peace", "greater", "economy" and "enlightenment". It is
difficult to point to some concrete object and indicate that it "is" enlightenment. Granted, difficulty does
exist - as can be attested to the fact that lawyers often prove helpful in drafting very specific documents
with an eye towards limiting potential disputes, but the degree of success that people have in such endeavors
in still quite remarkable. It is all the more suprising in that there is not one uniform language, but instead
vast numbers that all attempt to describe the same reality, which could be taken as evidence that perhaps not
much more than the fundamental capability of learning languages - but perhaps not the particulars themselves -
are somehow innate.
[to be continued]
Monday, December 20, 1999
I was listening to a talk about abortion in class and my mind wandered, as usual. What if we're all part of a
single consciousness, focused towards a common, perpetually changing task? When you stop to think about it,
we're all seemingly independent human beings, but what do we do all our lives? We work to help the good of as
many people as possible. Some people are more successful at this end than others, but in the end, almost
everyone helps out at least a little bit. The *small* handful of people out there who are created to destroy -
the vast minority - are inevitably erased by the unified consciousness of the majority.
Take Hitler, for instance. He was certainly one of the minority - his intention was to destroy. Swiftly, after
the rest of the human race was aware of his intentions, they descended upon Germany with all the force they
possibly could and crushed the opposition.
Each individual person might have varying opinions. That's because a person is a product of his or her
environment. But if everyone (not belonging to the aforementioned minority, as stated above, of course) led
the same life, their experiences - and REACTIONS to those experiences - would be the exact same. Since there's
absolutely no way that two people will have identical experiences, this can never be quantitatively or
qualitatively tested.
This circumstance would lead you to think that I've disproven myself; however, the contrary is in fact true.
Even though, on the conscious level, people have different responses to actions; in general, subconsciously,
everyone has an innate feeling to make the world a better place for themselves and others. This is why people
go out to do work for five-sevenths of their lives for eight hours a day in their stuffy little 80-square-foot
cubicle that they call home until the next "re-org."
Perhaps I've cleared things up - then again, I've probably just confused the hell out of you. No matter,
though. :)
Sunday, December 19, 1999
I've added a mildly interesting new section to my site. I choose simply to call it a page of
Writings, because that is essentially what it is. All are worth the time to read, if
you haven't read them before. Feel free to check them now, and hopefully the page will grow.
I just realized that Scott's Page hasn't gotten
the credit it has deserved lately. I hadn't even been to the page in over two weeks. I'm such a moron. There's
one good story in particular on his page that I never received (why Shelley? why?) and that you must all read.
It's labeled "Never Underestimate" under December 16th. Go. Read it. You won't be sorry.
I would like to thank the world and God that finals are over. I had an awesome week, and I never really felt
stressed at all about finals, and all of my friends were there for each other. It was just a wonderful time to
be alive. Well, along with my no stress, no study attitude for finals came a little last minute reviewing
during our hour long prep time before each test. That's all the studying I got done for any final, except BC
Calculus (study session the night before, we just worked a lot of practice problems).
Well, in short, I aced all my finals. 93 in Statistics, 93 in one English class, 97 in the other English
class, and a 106 in History (including 10 extra credit points). Calculus was another story, as you'll read in
a minute. Sixth period was P.E, and by golly that was the hardest final I've ever had to take! I had to play
basketball for three hours! (heheh) I played well too. Coach Mobley organized a little tournament, and of
course being one of the "white boys" I was the last picked on my team. I turned out to be their secret weapon,
scoring more points than anyone. (HAHAHA! Who'd'a thunk it?) They left me open, I drained a few threes,
including the tournament winning shot... Oh hell yes. I thought it was rather quaint how every shot I made
sounded just like a group of guys shouting "WHITE BOoooooY!" Heh, go me. :)
But that Calculus exam, yeesh... The practice test we took a month before sucked. I didn't know half of the
material and, based on my level of knowledge of the subject, I bombed it. I barely made a 3. In all honesty, I
expected a higher 3 or maybe a 4 on this final. That wouldn't be the case. I walked into class with a bag
full of food and drinks, sat down, and got busy. I don't really know how I did it, but I managed to
pull out a 5. I got the lowest possible 5 I could get, but that's still a 95 on the test, and that right there
made my day.
To make matters better, I bowled the best game of my life last night (based on actual skill, I'm not counting
the 202 game I bowled when I was 11 because of five lucky strikes in a row), a 186. And to keep this update
from being insanely long, I'll finish by telling the world that my mIRC script was updated... go to the
stuff page if you really want it.
Saturday, December 18, 1999
A few months back, an interesting question was brought up at a certain lunch group - not really a question,
but a great idea for pondering - sex in space. Questions may not be answered, but the arguement has reached
the far corners of cyberspace, and now even you can share your beliefs and opinions on the subject with the
rest of the world. Mad props to Nick for pointing this out. I shall warn you,
hundreds of responses already exist and the page will take a short while to load, and I do believe you will
have to "sign up" before you can add your own comments (just a warning), so for your viewing pleasure it will
open in a new window so you can continue reading my page while it loads. Whenever you're ready,
click
here. (If the window is too big for your screen, double click the title bar and it should fill your
screen's limits.)
While you wait on the Sex in Space window to load, read this short and sweet proposal. By the time you're done
reading, the Sex in Space page should be ready for you, and you'll be pondering what is really right and wrong
about education today! Anyway, read on...
I remember hearing one of the most drastic proposals in a Usenet discussion a long while back, that schools
ought to revert to teaching only maths for analytical thinking and speed reading, so people can teach
themselves.
Most people just start screaming about elitism at the notion of this (certain people seem to believe that very
concept of freedom is elitist because it hurts the stupid people), but I really think that it is fitting for
the information age. School should no longer -- in fact, it can no longer teach students information. The
information is readily available elsewhere, and more plentiful and dynamic than in any school to boot.
What students need to learn in school is no longer information -- but how to gather, handle, and learn from
the information they will be presented with continually for the rest of their lives.
Think about your own schooling: how much of what you learned has really been helpful to you later? I know that
for me it was extermely little. In my own subject I realized I could have learned everything I did from grade
1-12 by adding one more term at college rate study. And as for the other subjects, I have either forgotten
most of it or realized from own my experience that what I thought I knew about them is probably as
infinitesimal.
What I did bring with me from school, and that I am thankful for, is that it introduced me to the subject of
my passion, that it taught me to think, and that I learned how to learn efficiently. I think I would have been
more happy with having been devoted to these things than trying to force me to read subjects like history and
social studies which I never cared less about.
- Anonymous post on Slashdot.org
Friday, December 17, 1999
I gazed out the window in disgust. It was the middle of the day, but it was gray outside. It was probably smog
- the clouds of progress. Below I saw that an army of trees had sprung up. They felt intrusive somehow, but I
wasn't quite sure why. The chair was just too big for me. The room was too big too. All of it was. All of
it. I was only a teen, but I had a group of attendants following me about as though I was the supreme ruler of
the earth - or something. I didn't want to be supreme ruler of the earth, although there are a few things that
need fixing. A lot of things. The earth will always need to be fixed somehow. But I was being forced by these
people following me around to be - forced! No one was forcing me but myself. I started it, after all. It was I
who envisioned to put man back in control of his technology and return the machine to a position of slavery.
Why in particular I conceived of this I am not certain. It's very odd, actually.
I founded my own company in order to make my ideas reality - to create technology that was actually submissive
to its owners. The day had come - today - for the first products to be sold. The products were an immediate
success, you see, and now there are these people following me around like I'm a king. I hate that. I always
will. Where were they when I was taking all of the chances? Not only that, but the public is actually paying
money for my products. Are they blind fools? They're almost certainly nicer than I am. At least some of them
are anyway. And besides, I don't deserve the money. I don't even want it. But they give it to me. How did I
ever end up in this mess?
I'm a hypocrite. I'll admit that for sure. Once I learned the definition of the word, I knew that I was a
hypocrite. Or hypocritical, if you prefer to say that. I remember that my English teacher once said, "It is
hypocritical to say that you are a hypocrite," and I can only remember how much of a hypocrite I thought she
was after she had said that. But deep down inside, all of us are hypocrites. It's just that most of us aren't
hypocritical enough to admit it. Come to think of it, the only people I have met in my years were hypocrites.
Really.
Sometimes I wonder what it was like to be a caveman. It was the most basic way to live. It must have been
self-satisfying to "rough it" off of the land. There are always some of us who want to just say "no" to
progress and live the rugged life. I always wonder who it is that gets to label that style of living as
barbaric. What if the so-called barbarians think that civilization is barbaric? Nobody - well, hardly anybody
- ever stops to think about that angle. Of course, there can only be a few of us cave men types in the
population. If there were too many of us, the world wouldn't be self-sufficient. At least, that's what I'm
told.
I had finally put myself to rest - what was left of me. I still think that progress took a chunk out of me -
but I can't prove that. I'm just paranoid - or hypocritical, if you would prefer to say that. The sun hasn't
yet set on me, although I know it will. But I'll always be ready for it. And, admittedly, if not for progress,
I probably would not be here. But as I said before, I'm a hypocritical person. I'm pretty sure that I always
have been - even since birth. But just now, I finally got the time to look up "hypocrite" in the dictionary,
for the first time since I was young. The meaning has changed. It doesn't mean what it used to.
I guess progress is just as much a hypocrite as any one of us. It's always different. It isn't perfect.
Where's my puppy? Happy birthday Ashley. :-)
Thursday, December 16, 1999
I've taken four of six finals. Of the four, my lowest grade is a 93. I don't know about you, but I'm frickin'
histerical. I guess it isn't fair to say that all four are A's, because my calculus final hasn't been graded,
and there is a great chance that I got a B. But anyway...
Awww, ain't he cute?! Heh, that's a six-and-a-half year old Scott Siebenaler.
Hehehe. I also have new pictures of others and a new link to a friend's web page on the page of
pictures and links.
Sunday, December 12, 1999
We have lived through a terrible century of war and destruction precisely because powerful men did usurp
God's perogatives. I call the 20th century the Century of Physics, inaugurated by Einstein's special and
general theories. During this period, physics became the dominant science, producing nuclear energy and space
travel.
The century also brought forth social engineering, the practice of shoving large numbers of human beings
around as though they were earth or concrete. Social engineering was a key feature in the Nazi and Communist
totalitarian regimes, where it combined with moral relativism - the belief that right and wrong can be changed
for the convenience of human societies - and the denial of God's rights. To Hitler, the higher law of the
party took precedence over the Ten Commandments. Lenin praised the Revolutionary conscience as a surer guide
for mankind than the conscience implanted by religion.
That century is ending, and physics is no longer the fashionable science. Its place has been taken by biology,
an epoch introduced by the Watson-Crick discovery of the double helix in 1953 and the birth of the modern
science of genetics.
In the past half-century we have uncovered many of the secrets of life. Now we enter the 21st century, the
Century of Biology, which threatens large-scale experiments in genetic engineering - not just in crops and
animals but in humans as well.
Some scientists believe our newly acquired knowledge of genes offers us the opportunity to transform evolution
in more "progressive" directions by making people healthier, more intelligent and longer-lived. Hence the
third millennium may begin with cloned humans, "designer babies" and other alarming demonstrations that man
now has the power to play God with lives.
Against this scientific background it is comforting to remember that Christianity, with its central message of
submission to a higher being, remains so strong and vocal. The words of Jesus created a body of faith and
morality that enabled humankind to defeat social engineering, and today it provides defenses against the
threat of genetic engineering.
Two thousand years ago, a man came into the world to preach a doctrine of gentleness, love and meekness of
spirit. It took hold; it flourished. It is still with us. Those 20 centuries have shown us that the doctrine
cannot entirely banish the darker side of humanity. It cannot end war, cruelty, greed and the miseries of the
poor. But it mitigates all these things, and it offers a continuing vision of our better, purer selves, and of
the better, purer world we could create. Whatever and whenever fresh evils arise in our midst, Christ's message contains
the means to overcome them.
In the two millennia of the Christian era, we have conquered many scourges of humankind - recurrent famines,
smallpox. But we have not conquered death. Perhaps the greatest merit of Christianity is that it provides us
with a key to this final mystery. It offers an antidote to the fear death arouses in us, a firm promise of
another world beyond and the means to enter it. That is the lasting legacy left by the man born 2000 years
ago, a legacy that has not diminished in all those years and which carries us with faith and hope into the
third millennium, unafraid of anything it will bring.
Saturday, December 11, 1999
It's been a long, busy week. All of my projects and papers for school were due, finals are this coming
Wednesday through Friday, and I've been through an interesting emotional roller coaster of sorts dealing with
Sarah. Luckily, the last of my three ordeals required no effort - I took the initial risk and lost, no big
deal. My schoolwork was time consuming, but no major problem. I was only unable to keep up with my online
stuff, including this page. But fear no more, I'm back.
First order of business: Scott's Message Board. It
seems that Scott and Jacqueline have developed a similar conflict to that of Brad's and mine in mid-late
October. This one is more interesting, largely because there is no obvious good or bad side, things just need
to be patched up. Ever hear of the phrase "Forgive and forget"? Well I have too, and I agree that it stinks.
People never forget - "Forgive and dismiss" makes so much more sense. I'm sure you two, and others involved,
can work things out peaceably.
Monday, December 6, 1999
Most of you probably don't care and won't listen to me, but do me a favor and stop calling me John. I prefer
the name Paul, and unless I've given you special permission to call me John, don't do it, or I won't respond
to you. Thanks.
Sunday, December 5, 1999
So many wonderful things have suddenly thrust themselves into my life. I've overcome a major obstacle - I no
longer hate Mrs. Hilliard, or anything about her for that matter. I dislike that I had to fail her class, but
seeing as how no one else did I've come to the realization that whether or not there was a biased reason for
it, it was going to happen anyway because fate works that way. Other great things are happening, but they have
yet to blossom in full, so I'll let you know of anything worth sharing when the time comes.
Check out Brad's page, just cuz I said so. Thanks.
Friday, December 3, 1999
To be honest with you, I never expected to actually enjoy an evening at the Hilliard household. As it turns
out, fighting in the kitchen with cookie dough and chocolate chips, playing basketball and football in 35°
weather, and just hanging out at Barb's house with her daughter Valerie and a group of teenagers is just a
blast. Barb actually wasn't there most of the time, so I'm not sure if that had any effect on the evening. But
when she was there, we did the same things we did when she wasn't, so...
Scott, I'm upset that you've hidden such awesome people from us (Megan, Zach, and myself) for so long. But
hey, all's well that ends well. As it turns out, Sarah and I are getting married.
I need to get some sleep. I have an SAT to take tomorrow morning.
Wednesday, December 1, 1999
Wednesday, 6:00am - Bad headache. Stomach bug. Severe lack of will to go to school. *SNOOZE BUTTON* This goes
on for about an hour. I think I pressed the button about ten times before finally realizing I wasn't going
anywhere. So I walk into my dad's room, tell him I'm not going to school.
Dad: "Uh, yes you are."
me: "Uh, no I'm not."
Dad: "Um, okay. Turn that damn light off." *snore*
That's basically how it went. Anyhow, I slept till about 10:00am, turned on my computer, and who should I see
in my buddy list but my best friend Zach? Evidently this brain tumor of ours willed us to be together in a day
of nothingness... Blah! He came over and we sat on my couch and watched TV.
10:32am - Loud noise upstairs. "What the hell was that?" We each grab these antique candlestick holders
(they're frickin' ancient, man) and cautiously search my house like secret agents or something - we were
prepared to beat the snott out of the intruder. As it turns out, we were in no danger (damn, nothing cool ever
happens to me). A rather large book of mine had decided it's long, pointless life had become long enough. The
damn thing jumped... *sob* I'll miss that book. I'll miss the cologne it took with it even more. I'LL MISS YOU
COMPLETE WORKS OF ROBERT FROST! And now I'd like to dedicate a song to the late "Complete Works of Robert
Frost," Mariah Carey's and Boyz II Men's "One Sweet Day." Maybe one day we'll be together again! Then I can
beat you with the candlestick holders like I had planned.
Oh yeah, take note of the new quote. Or to be grammatically correct, quotation.
