Who gets sick just in time for the weekend?

Of course it came on Friday night. That aridity of the air quickly set it's sensation on the back of my throat; swallow a dry sting. Seemingly, it isn't a good idea to sit outside at night in a damp seat. I'm sure that my body was so working on warmth that a virus just nonchalantly walked right into my system - gleaming.

While asleep, the dust of the air and the dust of my teeth formed an army of tiny sponges which, stuck to my already parched throat, absorbed every last bit of relief left in my mouth, and they themselves dried out with every new breath of my own. But then the saliva would come, and the sponge army would be replenished. It was a war. The sponge soldiers clung to my mouth with a fierce grasp, and no cough of mine - my only defense - could carry them out. They would steal my "revival of saliva"- produced by the body, for the body - that was meant for my aching throat. I woke up in anguish. I drank water. But the army stayed; revitalized.

In order to win a war, you have to know your enemy: These sponge soldiers would only hold the moisture in the top half of their pores. The bottom half they would let dry, so as to form a complete solidified bond with my throat tissue. Coughing would do nothing; cold water would only penetrate the outer regions - the sidelines - of these inner pores, and would add extra vitality to their force. I had to take it to the next level: Tea.

Hot water could perhaps deteriorate some of the dried bottom of the sponge. So I drank Tea with all my might. However, it was only a temporary relief to the dryness. It seemed that the sponges would be heavily leveled at the bottom base for a time, but it would only take a few instances of fresh air for them to rebuild their foundations of dry agony in the back of my throat. They knew too well the arsenal of the defense. I had to adjust my motions.

I went to the medicine cabinet. The sponge army smelt the full vigor of death with every capsule filled container. But they screamed at me, "Capsules take time! We will dig in with all our might until that time comes!" Threats. They threatened me. Anger exploded. I shouted back at them, but it was all grumbles. My tongue, too, was on its last legs. I frantically looked at label upon label, hoping to find one with the exact words "To Kill Sponge Soldiers" written on it. But nowhere was one to be found. Vitamins, Omega 3's, Enzymes. My time was drawing near.

But then, I saw her. The little maiden of my eye. A small, white container with a spray-top. Curious, I read the label. "Echinacea Throat Spray". The soldiers panicked. As I lifted the lid off the spray-top, they hit with all their might. I fell over in pain and anticipation. My mom watched in slow motion as I brought my hand up to my mouth, positioned the hole towards my mouth, opened my mouth so wide my dentist would have rejoiced at the sight of it, and pushed down that spray-top with the acknowledgement of the final fist towards the cowering face of the sponge army. They shrieked; they swore; they hurled insults in every direction. The stinging was almost nauseating. Clutching to life, they begged for water and I almost gave in; the taste of the spray was shamelessly horrifying. But I pressed on and smacked those fluevy's with another blow. The last of them tasted death, but not before muttering some extreme expletives. My ears were appalled, but I knew that this was the end. I, Victorious Jon. They now knew my name.

in response to big bad blog

When Scott, Todd, and I go see a band play, and they are amazing, we all think (usually aloud) "Why can't we write amazing stuff like that?" or "How did they get so good?". And then we go home and Scoot will sit with his guitar and is inspired to write amazing stuff, and he does. So what happens is something amazing (we'll call it "A") done by somebody else, leads to the creation of something amazing (called "B") in and out of another person. But the reason this new B is created, is because, in this case, one person first listened to A, and then practiced the same art as the person who created A; Scott listened to a band, thought their song amazing, practiced or worked on the art, and he now writes B. We go from having a certain envy to making something amazing! Atleast that is the way it is with Todd, Scoot, and I.

So it is with writing papers or stories. Maybe I'm okay at writing, or smart, or whatever. But the reason that I can improve at writing and the reason I can get smarter is because I go home, read something that amazes me, then want to learn what it means and how to relay it to other people. So just as Scott does with music - listens, is inspired, works on, creates - I am like that with writing.

You may notice how in life, the thing you spend most your time with is usually the thing you become like the most. A kid that only hangs out with a bunch of potheads, becomes a pothead. A kid that only listens to emo, starts to dress and act like an "emo kid". A guy who reads a lot of books, turns into a guy who can write a lot of books (or atleast has a lot of ideas he can write down). If you don't spend your money on something useful, you've wasted your money; if you don't spend your time on something useful, you're wasting your time.

So really, if Scoot sat down and read books, he would become an amazing writer. He knows it. He's engaging and he's honest. But I admit that the desire to sit down and read a book is hard to come by; it takes so long to finish a book. But we're not reading books to finish them. If it takes 3 months to finish one book, it was 3 months of reading, not 3 months of finishing. When you have something to write about, something that you feel passionate about, and information to present and back up your points, you become a good writer. And reading not only gives you something to write about and the knowledge to make strong points, but it exposes you to the styles of great writers.

Just blog already.

Well I thought that since I haven't written anything for a few days I would add to the short list of previous posts. However I haven't anything specific to write about...

I just noticed that when I'm typing I don't capitalize any of my "I"s. And I'm 100% sure that once school starts I'm going to hand in an essay with all lower case "i"s in words like "I" and "I'm" and "I'll". And reading through this (yea I proofread my blogs) I noticed that since all these "I"s are now capitalized, I seem to stress them more. Like, I seem to pause a split second at the capital "I" and then say the word louder and longer than I normally would. Yea, apparently the lazy internet way of writing has not only made me forget grammar and spelling, but has made reading become awkward. Stupid ICQ. "uh oh".

For people that read: I've been reading this book called Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton. Read it. He may have been the greatest writer of the entire 20th century. (Philosopher in the early 1900's, "this was the man who wrote a book called The Everlasting Man, which led a young atheist named C.S. Lewis to become a Christian. This was the man who wrote a novel called The Napoleon of Notting Hill, which inspired Michael Collins to lead a movement for Irish Independence. This was the man who wrote an essay in the Illustrated London News that inspired Mohandas Gandhi to lead a movement to end British colonial rule in India.")

Well said Charles.

Some wish to live within the sound
Of Church or Chapel Bell.
I want to run a rescue shop
within a yard of Hell.

C.T. Studd

BLOG! the new fad

Well for me & todd anyways. I'm sure more people will catch on, because although todd usually is the first one to start the trend, I am the quick popularizer of it. Right myspace?

As i'm looking at my wall, i'm reminded of something Scoot said today...

Daddy Long Legs without any legs would be the worst next life in the history of karma. I mean, you would just be a ball. A ball that looks around and gets sucked into air conditioning vents and blown from room to room, and then probably into a vacuum with a bunch of dog hair that cushions your fall into the chamber so you can't even die and start another existence! You'd just look at dog hair and dust, and wait till starvation occured. But with a daddy-long-legs who has no legs' luck, some mosquito would get sucked into the vacuum with you, and again, the dog hair would act as a life saving coushin. I thought life as a tree would be worse, but under the circumstances of no legs and a mosquito bite, Scoot wins.

Hello, Mr. Igno Rant

"By smooth talk and flattery they deceive the minds of naive people." - Romans 16:18b

So yesterday I was watching Larry King, or well he was on the TV while I was eating dinner, and he had as his guest Bill Maher (Host of HBO's "Real Time With Bill Maher"). And for who knows what reason, Larry asked to get Bill's view of evolution vs. intelligent design. Here's a bit of the transcript:

KING: It's no more -- it's -- intelligent design now replaces the other word?

MAHER: It's creationism by another name...

And it's like this, with intelligent design, it's such a, it's such a, you know, around the back end way of expressing an idea, which they -- just be honest and say, we prefer to believe in the fairy tale. We prefer to believe in the fairy tale that God created the world in six days.

I mean, what does that mean, intelligent design? It means that apparently, the world is so complicated that there are things about it we don't understand, so it must be invented by somebody -- let's call him Jesus' dad -- who understands things we don't. But it's like saying, we don't know how those monoliths got onto Easter Island, so we're going to say aliens brought them.

It's not rational. It's not smart. But it's more comforting. Just say that. You want to be comforted.

Now the extraordinary thing about Mr. Maher's argument is that, unfortunately for him, he doesn't even know what Intelligent Design is (although he tries to define it). And this is obvious because he says that advocates of the movement "believe in the fairy tale that God created the world in six days." And any single person who has ever even read one thing about the Intelligent Design movement is that the science involved does not refute the idea that the universe (notice Bill says "world") is billions of years old, nor that the Big Bang happened. ID supports those theories, knowing that the first chapter in Genesis is written in a poetic (not poetic, but i can't remember the word, some type of hebrew literary device) account of creation, providing the fact that there is only 1 God, he created everything, he created man in his own likeness, etc.

Too bad Bill Maher likes to talk about things he doesn't know anything about, because for the rest of the show why should anyone take his points seriously? Or read his book? Lame.

It's all figured out!

Sarah, my first post is dedicated to you.

Soctrates --> Plato --> Aristotle --> Alexander the Great.