I think that 1-2 years out is a little early to start taking bets, but...
We at Recherche are welcoming a brand new little series called, "My Life In Cliche."
It's hotter than bazes in my room, and I'm as sick as a dog.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
admitting it is the first step...
My name is Emily and I have a problem.
[hi, emily]
I am no longer allowed to go to Powell's. I am completely incapable of self control when it comes to that sacred place, and have, with the help of friends and family, entered a twelve step program for compulsive book buyers.
Betsy: Do you want to go out tonight?
Me: Yeah, where?
Betsy: I was thinking of getting some coffee and then Powell's to look for a South Korea travel book.
Me: [cautiously] okay. I guess that works. I do need to get Rosie's grad present.
Sounds perfectly innocent. Not to dangerous, right? I can do this. Besides, I just spent a bunch of money last time I went to Powell's, so I'll have no problems this week.
Wrong.
At closing time, Betsy emerged untainted and lacking in a guidebook, while I slinked out with my arms full of Rose's book, Gatsby, Asher Lev, and Hemingway. [i have measured out my life in literature]
I have also reached that dangerous place of completing a book. Where do I go next? My entire being is being pulled in so many different directions on this sunny and [seemingly] carefree Saturday: Melville short stories? Uncollected Wodehouse? Philip Roth novel? Historical Mysteries? TonyEarley? LarryWoiwode? JamesJoyce?Hemingway?PlathPiperpotokfitzgerald...
my head a splode.
[hi, emily]
I am no longer allowed to go to Powell's. I am completely incapable of self control when it comes to that sacred place, and have, with the help of friends and family, entered a twelve step program for compulsive book buyers.
Betsy: Do you want to go out tonight?
Me: Yeah, where?
Betsy: I was thinking of getting some coffee and then Powell's to look for a South Korea travel book.
Me: [cautiously] okay. I guess that works. I do need to get Rosie's grad present.
Sounds perfectly innocent. Not to dangerous, right? I can do this. Besides, I just spent a bunch of money last time I went to Powell's, so I'll have no problems this week.
Wrong.
At closing time, Betsy emerged untainted and lacking in a guidebook, while I slinked out with my arms full of Rose's book, Gatsby, Asher Lev, and Hemingway. [i have measured out my life in literature]
I have also reached that dangerous place of completing a book. Where do I go next? My entire being is being pulled in so many different directions on this sunny and [seemingly] carefree Saturday: Melville short stories? Uncollected Wodehouse? Philip Roth novel? Historical Mysteries? TonyEarley? LarryWoiwode? JamesJoyce?Hemingway?PlathPiperpotokfitzgerald...
my head a splode.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
artistry...
How much effect does an artist's personal life or insanity have on your ability to enjoy their art?
I'll be the first to admit that I love the new Dixie Chicks album [my official review is in process]. And yet, with all the hype, they're still saying things like this:
"The entire country may disagree with me, but I don't understand the necessity for patriotism," Maines resumes, through gritted teeth. "Why do you have to be a patriot? About what? This land is our land? Why? You can like where you live and like your life, but as for loving the whole country… I don't see why people care about patriotism." [source]
First of all, it kind of seems like they keep saying ridiculous things to get publicity. It might or might not be conscious, but I think it's actually limiting them. Like many other entertainers and artists, they are building a career out of being outrageous rather than being known as great musicians. Saying things like this will definitely attract certain groups, but I wish that they would just let their talent speak for itself.
Is it right that the Dixie Chicks have taken so much flack for being un-patriotic when we watch movies featuring actors who's lives center around their rejection of Christ?
It's disturbing to me that Christians will freak out over the Dixie Chicks, and then live their own lives like Christ is still in the grave. And yet, I'm not quite sure how to handle them. Was I mistaken to hand them my money in exchange for their cd?
Can you truly detach good art from a bad artist?
One of the beauties of a real faith in Jesus is the amazing freedom we have for good. We were not given freedom to become slaves to this world, but to joyfully become bondservants of a living, creative, Love. However, we live in a fallen world. Even the greatest art falls short because it is created by sinful hands.
Why aren't more Christians creating beauty and art? We have the greatest personal inspiration, so why are we settling for mediocre-at-best movies and music? Is my generation going to continue to hide in their homes? Who will stand up? Do I have the strength and maturity to trust Jesus and stand outside? Do you?
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things [phil 4:8]
I'll be the first to admit that I love the new Dixie Chicks album [my official review is in process]. And yet, with all the hype, they're still saying things like this:
"The entire country may disagree with me, but I don't understand the necessity for patriotism," Maines resumes, through gritted teeth. "Why do you have to be a patriot? About what? This land is our land? Why? You can like where you live and like your life, but as for loving the whole country… I don't see why people care about patriotism." [source]
First of all, it kind of seems like they keep saying ridiculous things to get publicity. It might or might not be conscious, but I think it's actually limiting them. Like many other entertainers and artists, they are building a career out of being outrageous rather than being known as great musicians. Saying things like this will definitely attract certain groups, but I wish that they would just let their talent speak for itself.
Is it right that the Dixie Chicks have taken so much flack for being un-patriotic when we watch movies featuring actors who's lives center around their rejection of Christ?
It's disturbing to me that Christians will freak out over the Dixie Chicks, and then live their own lives like Christ is still in the grave. And yet, I'm not quite sure how to handle them. Was I mistaken to hand them my money in exchange for their cd?
Can you truly detach good art from a bad artist?
One of the beauties of a real faith in Jesus is the amazing freedom we have for good. We were not given freedom to become slaves to this world, but to joyfully become bondservants of a living, creative, Love. However, we live in a fallen world. Even the greatest art falls short because it is created by sinful hands.
Why aren't more Christians creating beauty and art? We have the greatest personal inspiration, so why are we settling for mediocre-at-best movies and music? Is my generation going to continue to hide in their homes? Who will stand up? Do I have the strength and maturity to trust Jesus and stand outside? Do you?
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things [phil 4:8]
Monday, June 12, 2006
haiku u...
Classic Literature in 17 syllables, by David M. Bader.
See if you can guess the book!
Aegean forecast-
storms, chance of one-eyed giants,
delays expected.
Vengeance! Black blood! Aye!
Dubloons to him that harpoons
the Greenpeace dinghy.
Single white lass seeks
landed gent for marriage, whist.
No parsons, thank you.
Alone for twelve years,
then a footprint in the sand.
Thank God! A servant!
Act I: "It's hopeless.
My boots don't fit. Where is God?"
Act II: The same thing.
"His mother wed his
dead murdered father's brother!"
Next Jerry Springer.
The Constitution-
behold our work and marvel.
No Bill of Rights? Whoops.
A scholar trades a
few fun years for endless Hell.
Math was not his field.
"Who dat fine knight be?"
asked the saucy Moorish wench.
"Dat be Ivan, ho."
Morning: Pond-gazing.
Afternoon: Berry-picking
What a hectic day.
Earnestly posing
as Ernest, Jack learns he's named
Ernest in earnest.
Galapagos finch-
the same beak as Aunt Enid's!
A theory is born.
[and, my personal favorite:]
Snow-drops hang like tears.
Shy, sweet, saintly Beth has died.
One down, three to go.
[answers]
the odyssey
moby-dick
pride and prejudice
robinson crusoe
waiting for godot
hamlet
the federalist papers
doctor faustus
ivanhoe
walden
the importance of being earnest
the origin of the species
little women
See if you can guess the book!
Aegean forecast-
storms, chance of one-eyed giants,
delays expected.
Vengeance! Black blood! Aye!
Dubloons to him that harpoons
the Greenpeace dinghy.
Single white lass seeks
landed gent for marriage, whist.
No parsons, thank you.
Alone for twelve years,
then a footprint in the sand.
Thank God! A servant!
Act I: "It's hopeless.
My boots don't fit. Where is God?"
Act II: The same thing.
"His mother wed his
dead murdered father's brother!"
Next Jerry Springer.
The Constitution-
behold our work and marvel.
No Bill of Rights? Whoops.
A scholar trades a
few fun years for endless Hell.
Math was not his field.
"Who dat fine knight be?"
asked the saucy Moorish wench.
"Dat be Ivan, ho."
Morning: Pond-gazing.
Afternoon: Berry-picking
What a hectic day.
Earnestly posing
as Ernest, Jack learns he's named
Ernest in earnest.
Galapagos finch-
the same beak as Aunt Enid's!
A theory is born.
[and, my personal favorite:]
Snow-drops hang like tears.
Shy, sweet, saintly Beth has died.
One down, three to go.
[answers]
the odyssey
moby-dick
pride and prejudice
robinson crusoe
waiting for godot
hamlet
the federalist papers
doctor faustus
ivanhoe
walden
the importance of being earnest
the origin of the species
little women
Sunday, June 11, 2006
beautiful...
This is my original baby, Thelema Grace, and her new sister Naomi. Thelema proved herself as unstoppable [at age four] as ever when today in church, she pointed at my sister AmyGrace and exclaimed with her ever mischievous grin, "Hey! You two are the same color!" 
Saturday, June 10, 2006
forgotten...
Wow, there are so many little things I had forgotten about Portland:
-How much I love the bridges over the Willamette
-The sound of the airplanes flying over my house
-How funny my cat is
-How entertaining my family is
-The joys of having a Starbucks two blocks away from home
-The very very small size of my closet
-Juice and laughter with Milicent
-Ethnic people
-Rad clothing
-The student discount at my chiropractor
-Wireless internet that reaches my back deck
-Being able to say "Do you want me to recycle this for you?" rather than "Should I throw this away?"
-Exploring my own neighborhood
Allison, we need to hang out so I'll have some photographs of this summer.
-How much I love the bridges over the Willamette
-The sound of the airplanes flying over my house
-How funny my cat is
-How entertaining my family is
-The joys of having a Starbucks two blocks away from home
-The very very small size of my closet
-Juice and laughter with Milicent
-Ethnic people
-Rad clothing
-The student discount at my chiropractor
-Wireless internet that reaches my back deck
-Being able to say "Do you want me to recycle this for you?" rather than "Should I throw this away?"
-Exploring my own neighborhood
Allison, we need to hang out so I'll have some photographs of this summer.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
hey...
love is different than you think
it's never in a song
or on a tv screen
and love is harder than a word
said at the right time
and everything's all right
love is different than you think
[caedmon's call]
I decided that I'm done being a romantic. I haven't really been a romantic since January. [can you cure yourself of that?] There's so many more aspects of literature and writing that appeal to me. I actually got pretty sick of British Romanticism.
If I actually wrote things, I would want to be a creative truthist, like Flannery O'Conner. My good ol' buddy Edgar A. Poe said, "write the truest thing you know." It's good advice. The truth isn't always pretty, but it's also not forever ugly.
Marvin Olasky calls it Biblical Realism. In describing World Magazine's purpose, he writes, "We believe it is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever--and forever begins right now. We like sex, within marriage. We're not amoral hedonists, but we're not stoic moralists either. We like the vines and the fig tress God gave us. We read novels, go to movies, and listen to classical music but also jazz. We prefer ice cream to cotton candy, we cover movies, yoga, artists, and travel; we aren't Christians with rules against anything that's fun--because God made fun, too."
Biblical Realism is why it's okay to have your quiet time at Starbucks, to make friends with cool non-Christians, to have fun with your clothes and hair on weekends, and have intellectual conversations about Poe, Aristotle, and Johnny Cash. God put us into this world not to be consumed by it, but to ride the waves and learn how to live. Jesus was a real person, too.
Forever begins right now.
it's never in a song
or on a tv screen
and love is harder than a word
said at the right time
and everything's all right
love is different than you think
[caedmon's call]
I decided that I'm done being a romantic. I haven't really been a romantic since January. [can you cure yourself of that?] There's so many more aspects of literature and writing that appeal to me. I actually got pretty sick of British Romanticism.
If I actually wrote things, I would want to be a creative truthist, like Flannery O'Conner. My good ol' buddy Edgar A. Poe said, "write the truest thing you know." It's good advice. The truth isn't always pretty, but it's also not forever ugly.
Marvin Olasky calls it Biblical Realism. In describing World Magazine's purpose, he writes, "We believe it is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever--and forever begins right now. We like sex, within marriage. We're not amoral hedonists, but we're not stoic moralists either. We like the vines and the fig tress God gave us. We read novels, go to movies, and listen to classical music but also jazz. We prefer ice cream to cotton candy, we cover movies, yoga, artists, and travel; we aren't Christians with rules against anything that's fun--because God made fun, too."
Biblical Realism is why it's okay to have your quiet time at Starbucks, to make friends with cool non-Christians, to have fun with your clothes and hair on weekends, and have intellectual conversations about Poe, Aristotle, and Johnny Cash. God put us into this world not to be consumed by it, but to ride the waves and learn how to live. Jesus was a real person, too.
Forever begins right now.
Monday, June 05, 2006
books, books, books...
I celebrated my return to the land of promise with a smoothie downtown, love-time with Milicent, chatting with random people, choosing to walk rather than take the streetcar, making up short stories about images from public transit, and a trip to Powell's this evening.
Once again, my Powell's strategy is to run around like crazy, piling up everything I want, and then sort through all the books at the end and regretfully put most of them back. I even only brought a limited amount of cash with me so I wouldn't go too crazy. I own a new Wodehouse and a Larry Woiwode collection of short stories. [please read beyond the bedroom wall. i'm an expert on this story] I also got this wicked sweet gift for a friend called Everything I Ate. The guy took a picture of everything he ate for a year. [think how to lose a guy in 10 days and you'll get the joke]
My hands are covered with titles and authors to check out from the library. I might not have a job until next week; want to bet how many pages I can read until then?
Once again, my Powell's strategy is to run around like crazy, piling up everything I want, and then sort through all the books at the end and regretfully put most of them back. I even only brought a limited amount of cash with me so I wouldn't go too crazy. I own a new Wodehouse and a Larry Woiwode collection of short stories. [please read beyond the bedroom wall. i'm an expert on this story] I also got this wicked sweet gift for a friend called Everything I Ate. The guy took a picture of everything he ate for a year. [think how to lose a guy in 10 days and you'll get the joke]
My hands are covered with titles and authors to check out from the library. I might not have a job until next week; want to bet how many pages I can read until then?
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Thursday, June 01, 2006
white noise...
I like the hum of the library. It's a good place, even if it is about 45 degrees in here. [such extremes...it's about 80 with 90% humidity outside. where is the balance?] During the normal semester, it's too distracting to be here, but there are only about 25 people around during the summer session . Also, the fact that I'm not really friends with any of them keeps me from being distracted. Isn't it weird that there are still strangers on a campus of 1300?
One of my most prominent annoyances is the difference that one day makes in your life. Today, unfortunantly, is Wednesday the 31st. Which means that tomorrow is First Thursday, just three days shy of my ability to attend. Which means I'll only have July and August to celebrate the full glories of dressing up, people watching, and northwestern snobbish nights. My birthday celebration had better make up for this.
My final on Friday covers a lot more material than I expected. We have done a lot this semester, despite Dr Somerville's 'digressions from a digression.' I'm getting worried. It's so different when you're studying things you've heard of before. But this is about 30 modern short stories, each written by entirely new authors with rather complicated names. But, despite that, this has been one of Hillsdale's best kept secrets. I'm already plotting next summer's schedule. You're all invited to come live with me for three weeks and partake of the goodness.
This has been a good week: I saw two action movies in four days. Mi:3 [at a drive-in! whoot for the good old days!] and X-3. Both were ridiculous, tragic[ly bad], hilarious, frequently made fun of, and full of really really bad dialogue. I'm a bad dialogue psychic. I can pretty much say the next line without ever having seen the movie.
The deaths of certain much-raved-about characters in X-3 has inspired an X-men frenzy. Joel and I introduced Sharon to all the glories of Wolverine ['oooh, is he going to take his shirt off again!? will cyclops take his shirt off?'] and tonight we're watching the best one, X-2. [which the girl at the movie store was completely incapable of finding in the computer. what?]
I'm currently putting off going to work. Maybe I'll continue methodically checking all possible forms of e-communication or count out the number of hours that remain til PDX. Oooh, new pictures up on facebook!
[edit] I am also missing the Starlight Parade. What IS this? I am so sad. It is my favorite Who wants to go to the Grand Floral Parade with me?
I really want to take some sort of dance class through Portland Parks this summer, but their website isn't working. Sad.
One of my most prominent annoyances is the difference that one day makes in your life. Today, unfortunantly, is Wednesday the 31st. Which means that tomorrow is First Thursday, just three days shy of my ability to attend. Which means I'll only have July and August to celebrate the full glories of dressing up, people watching, and northwestern snobbish nights. My birthday celebration had better make up for this.
My final on Friday covers a lot more material than I expected. We have done a lot this semester, despite Dr Somerville's 'digressions from a digression.' I'm getting worried. It's so different when you're studying things you've heard of before. But this is about 30 modern short stories, each written by entirely new authors with rather complicated names. But, despite that, this has been one of Hillsdale's best kept secrets. I'm already plotting next summer's schedule. You're all invited to come live with me for three weeks and partake of the goodness.
This has been a good week: I saw two action movies in four days. Mi:3 [at a drive-in! whoot for the good old days!] and X-3. Both were ridiculous, tragic[ly bad], hilarious, frequently made fun of, and full of really really bad dialogue. I'm a bad dialogue psychic. I can pretty much say the next line without ever having seen the movie.
The deaths of certain much-raved-about characters in X-3 has inspired an X-men frenzy. Joel and I introduced Sharon to all the glories of Wolverine ['oooh, is he going to take his shirt off again!? will cyclops take his shirt off?'] and tonight we're watching the best one, X-2. [which the girl at the movie store was completely incapable of finding in the computer. what?]
I'm currently putting off going to work. Maybe I'll continue methodically checking all possible forms of e-communication or count out the number of hours that remain til PDX. Oooh, new pictures up on facebook!
[edit] I am also missing the Starlight Parade. What IS this? I am so sad. It is my favorite Who wants to go to the Grand Floral Parade with me?
I really want to take some sort of dance class through Portland Parks this summer, but their website isn't working. Sad.
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