The Merry Month of... April

You know, it's hard to believe that I'm almost done with my junior year.

It seems like it was just yesterday when... um... I don't exactly know what I'm supposed to call the beginning of school - all my classes started at different times. I guess if we count everything as school, it's be at Debate Bootcamp.

So I guess it seems like just yesterday that I was at Debate bootcamp. And now here I am, about two weeks out from summer, hard pressed on all sides by Latin and Math and various other evils that I've been putting off until now.

It's been kind of a crazy year, looking back at it. I mean, if you had asked my a few hours ago, I would have said it had been a pretty fun year - unremarkable for the most part, but fun. 'Course, that's cause I don't have an eye or memory for non-Mia related details. But I stumbled across an old Word file - I've got about two dozen of them stashed away in my thumb drive under a folder labeled "Scraps of Stuff" - that was a couple entries in a kind of journal-thing I wrote back a couple months ago.

I'm pretty sure that I wrote it while I was still adjusting to the lack of constant human company when I wrote it - I mean, I sound like a freaking mad genius. I mean, I'm always a freaking genius - I'm just not generally mad (though some might dispute that with me). Anyway, I can't just copy/paste it here because it contains a little too much information pertaining to Mia... but it did get me thinking about the recent past.

All in all, the 2010-2011 school year has probably been the most ground-breaking year of my life. I got yanked out of real school and chucked into homeschool. I made about a billion more friends. I finished Samuel Faar. I learned a few words in Latin. I started college (dual-enrollment, anyway). I finally got a 30 on my ACT. I started a blog. I met Mia. I joined debate and actually learned to speak cohesively. The Wise Man's Fear came out. I started working out - voluntarily, too, which is a sure sign of the apocalypse. I actually failed failed my first math test (but still scraped by with a B in the class). I almost went mentally insane. I became a beast at Call of Duty and lost all my skills in the same year. I killed a character for the first time. I started and stopped playing WoW. I went through three mini-crushes to try and distract myself from Mia. All of them failed epically. I got a car...

And, of course, those are only the ones that I can tell you about without having to kill you.

I guess I'm not quite sure how next year is going to be better. I mean, my classes are going to be a bit more cohesive - I'm really looking forward to a couple of them. But then again, I guess if we knew what was going to happen, it wouldn't be quite as fun...

I suppose my goal right now should be to survive to the end of the year. As it is, I'm feeling like I'm gunna fail Latin. Math ain't looking too pretty, either. I really just wish that all these numbers would stop existing right about now. I'm never - and when I say never, I mean freaking never - going to need to convert normal numbers into Polar numbers or whatever it is that we're studying right now. Just a simple fact of life right there.

I'm really looking forward to summer. Not because I don't want to do anything - I'm already doing that - but because I don't want to do anything while not feeling guilty because of it. Well, that, and I'm really looking forward to being done with Veritas.

I suppose that my real beef with Veritas is that I didn't choose to be there. There is one thing that I hate above all other things, and that is being forced into something. If I choose to take a hard class, then I'll stick it out, 'cause it's my choice. If I'm forced into one, I feel the need to fight against it with all my strength in order to make a point.

Mature? Probably not. But I'm seventeen. I've got a licence for rebellion and immaturity... and stubbornness. And I stick by what I believe.

Except that time when the Dark Side had cookies.

James
Who Can't Come Up With Any Titles At the Moment

Edit: I also started playing around with the colors on the blog. I think I had a little too much fun...

An Announcement

I feel like there's something I need to say. Something I haven't said in a while. Something I've never quite communicated correctly.

I really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really can really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really you really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really find  really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really the really really really 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That is all.

James

Who really hates math. A lot.

It's DONE!

Well, people, it's official. I have presented myself an awesomeness award for finishing the first draft of my second book in roughly one fourth of the time it took me to finish my first. 'Course, chances are, I've already told you that it's done - but, you know, this is just an official announcement to the world.

Samuel Faar: The Black Gate is finished.

Sort of.

See, now what happens is I have to go back though EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY chapter, sentence by sentence, and make it all at least 100% better. And, while I don't have a monster of a book (like Pat Rothfuss - a.k.a. my writing role-model - who had something like 400,000 words - I've only got about 100,000) it's still gunna take me quite a lot of time.

My vain hope is to have revisions done by the end of summer. I'm almost positive I won't make that deadline - I rarely make deadlines when it comes to this kind of thing - but if I don't set some kind of deadline I'll just laze off and do absolutely nothing.

So if you see me walking around with a big stack of papers and a red pen, that's what I'm working on.

So, anyway, if you haven't read Sam Faar on Inkpop yet (that's the link, right there. You see, you click on the little different colored words, and it magically takes you to the page.) you might wish to hurry - I'm planning on taking it down sometime soon. 'Cause, well, I'm paranoid like that.

So, yeah, that's all, really. I have an unfortunately boring life. I mean, aside from finish my book, the most exciting thing I've done all week is take a five hour nap...

Oh, oh, but I have a possibly fun thing. I want you people to ask me questions. Like, I don't know, any kind of questions. Random questions. Deep questions. Funny questions. And then... I can do blog posts about them! Doesn't that sound like fun?

Yeah, yeah, it's mostly an excuse to not have to think about coming up with my own material. But, hey, I'm tired. Cut me some slack.

James
Person Who Leads a Very Boring Life, Aspiring Writer, Blogger Extradonare, etc., etc.

Re-Discovering Tamriel

So, as a forewarning, this is one of my nerd posts. Chances are, only about two of you will understand what I'm talking about. Most of you won't be able to follow anything I say. But, at this point, I can't really care about that. You know why?

BECAUSE THE FIFTH ELDER SCROLLS GAME IS COMING OUT THIS YEAR!!!


Now, this is kinda sad that I'm just realizing this, 'cause they announced  Skyrim (the name of Elder Scrolls V) back in December. But, for some reason, I only watched the preview trailer last night...

And now I'm psyched.

For those of you who know nothing about video games, the Elder Scroll series (and, in fact, most everything made by Bethesdia Softworks) are all massive sandbox games. That means that you can go anywhere and do (almost) anything anytime you want to. You're not confined to a single level that you have to beat to progress - you're thrown into a massive world full of cities and people and quests and weapons and junk and told "Alright, we'll give you a main quest to give to some semblance of direction, but other than that you're on your own."

The Elder Scrolls games are all set within the world of Tamriel. I'd say that it's roughly a Roman Empire-aged world, except the existence of magic and alchemy and multiple races can really distance another world's timeline from ours. Anyway, each game thus far has taken part in a different realm of Tamriel - Daggerfall, Morrowind, Cyrodill. Except, you know, Oblivion took part in Cyrodill and the daedric plane of Oblivion... which is not technically in Tamriel...

Anyway, I got started with the fourth game, Oblivion. And, well, it's one of my favorite games ever. I can't count how many hours I plugged away at that game... Well, I could, except all my old save files got deleted, so I can't go back and look at the little "Time Played" thingy.

One of the best parts about this game is that you can be anything you freaking want to be. You wanna be a vampire paladin who steals things for a living while practicing magic? Go ahead. You want to be a lizard man who runs a brotherhood of assassins, but also works as the Emperor-to-be's helper? Yep, got that too. You wanna be a lion-man who is the most powerful magician in all the land as well as the commander of the Fighter's Guild and a master thief who also runs a brotherhood of assassins while being the Emperor-to-be's helper who is also a vampire and kills people just for the heck of it while also being the chosen of the gods to slay an ancient evil and become a freaking daedric GOD? 


Yeah. Yeah, you can do that, too.

The only problem I had with Oblivion was that, while you could be the Champion of the Fighter's Guild, the Archmage of the Mage's Guild, the Grey Fox of the Thieve's Guild, and the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood... nobody would recognize you for it.

I mean, if I'm the most powerful magician in the land, and the strongest fighter in the land, and the best thief in the land, and the greatest assassin in the land, I'd expect people would be pretty freakin' impressed with me. I'd think they'd know my name. I'd think they'd show me a little respect. I'd think they'd freakin' turn around and run for their pathetic lives whenever they saw my dark-robed figure bringing upon them the harbinger of death.

But instead, as you walk down the streets, people just say, "Good day," or "Move," or, "You look suspicious.."

Hopefully they'll change that in Skyrim. But until then, I plan to invest an inordinate amount of time in Morrowind and Oblivion, stealing the world's riches, killing the scum of the land, and generally being awesome.

So, until then...

James
Daedric Lord of Madness, Grey Fox of the Thieve's Guild, Listener for the Dark Brotherhood, etc., etc.

Profound Things #4 - Prayer

Wow. Two profound things in the same week. That's pretty crazy, seeing as I've been writing this blog for nearly three months now.

Well, there's a story (sort of) behind this one. I was driving home from babysitting for a church fundraiser event (all I've got to say about that is ugg. I'm not a kid person.) with my little sister. She's cool most of the time now-a-days... but, anyway, we were listening to some of Eminem's new music (she's a lot more into new music than I am, and I haven't heard any of his stuff... yeah, I know, I live under a rock).

Anyway, during one part of the song he says that he opens a letter from a guy who says he's been praying for him every day, and he says that it's been weighing pretty heavy on his mind. I don't know why, but it really struck me.

How many times have I prayed for him, or for anyone in the spotlight that our culture tries to imitate, or even simply for our culture?

Maybe it's just me, but I'm gunna make the challenge/observation anyway - I think, even in our Christian circles, we've bought so much into the individuality of our culture that we've stopped seeing the big picture. I know it's pretty easy for me to remember to take all my personal requests before God. But when do we pray for the people we aren't immediately around? Do we earnestly pray for people who are hostile to the faith? Do we earnestly pray for the people who are apathetic to it?

I don't have any evidence to support this, obviously, but I believe that one of the reasons that our culture is going down the drain is because we as Christians have stopped praying for it. We've stopped praying for the people. Scripture reiterates to us again and again and again just how important prayer is - it has serious, real, changing effects on the world around us, because God hears them and will act on them.

So much of the time, though, I, personally, approach prayer as more of a begrudging duty to fulfill than as our direct line of contact to the only one capable of dispelling the darkness around us. I know that God hears and acts on our prayers. But I don't always act like I believe it.

So, I guess, I just want to issue a challenge to all of you - myself included: pray. Pray for our culture. Pray for the celebrities who reject our God and lead our culture down darker paths. Pray for our government leaders. Pray for the scientists, the common man, the avid antagonist. But not only that - pray like you believe that God will do what He says He will do.

And don't do it for just a day, or just a week. Do it for the rest of your life. It's not just our duty - it's our privilege. And, honestly, it's the only way our culture is ever going to be dug out of the dark rut it's in.

James

Ugg...

Today has just been an exceedingly crappy day.

To start off with, I've got a really nasty cold - like, this is the worst I've felt in... heck, probably years, but I'm not throwing up and don't have a fever, so I have to go to school. So, when I woke up, my mouth had completely dried out (you know, 'cause I can't breathe through my nose) and I split my upper lip just by moving it.

So now that hurts.

As if to add insult to injury, I couldn't find my glasses and was late for math class... which lasted almost 30 minutes longer than normal. So, I go home, my head pounding, knowing I have to mow one of my neighbor's lawns...

...and find out that I've ALSO got to go to the dentist today.

In all fairness, actually, the dentist was probably the best part of the day. I mean, a lot of it was sitting around waiting - and the hooked-stick-cleaning part (the only part that's really unbearable for me) didn't last as long as it normally does. And my dentist said that I don't have to get my wisdom teeth removed ('cause I've got such a big mouth). So I guess that's a plus.

I went home and dug out the lawn mower to go take care of one of my neighbor's yards. It's kinda in major dis-repair... mainly because I don't think she's ever raked it, and the whole thing is on a hill. But raking isn't part of my job description (not after I scraped all the skin off both my thumbs after raking for 4+ hours last winter) so I just mowed.

Well, she was supposed to leave my money either under one of the tires of her car or under the windshield wipers. I looked for nearly half an hour (and this, remember, is with a pounding head in air that contains an ungodly amount of pollen) trying to find something that... wasn't... there...

So that definitely didn't make me happy. Walking home from her place, though, one of her neighbors flagged me down and asked if I could do her mother's lawn. I said I could (and now have a new lawn job paying $20 per cut) and started on that.

About half-way though, I hear a sudden ping and then a clunk and then that nasty noise of metal cutting metal ... and then my lawnmower quit. So I flip it over to see what had just happened...

... and half the bottom covering of my lawn mower has dropped off and is blocking the blade. Why? How? I don't know. But I spent about fifteen minutes trying to undo one of the bolts so I could get it out of the way and keep working.

Then, when I tipped the lawn mower back up, a bunch of oil came pouring out of the side though the air filter (which, I might add, we had just replaced... because the same thing had happened to the old one.) That one was easier to fix - it isn't good for them, but mowers can run for a little while with no air filter. And it's better to run with no air-filter than an oil-filled air-filter, as putting oil directly into the middle on an engine tends to cause explosions.

About half a yard later, as if to add an insult to the previous insult and injury, the belt on the auto-power for my mower slips off the tred. Meaning I have to push a heavier than normal (because it's got a self-propulsion system built in) lawn mower up hill while my head is pounding.

Then, to add an extra insult to the two insults I'd received previously and the injury, I realized I'd forgotten to put on sunscreen.

Surprisingly, though, I'm not particularly mad/angry about any of it... I guess this sanctification deal is working after all.

God is great.

Beer is good.

And people are crazy.

James
Who Does Not Own the Rights to That Song, But Billy Currington Does, So Don't Sue Me, etc., etc.

Nightbane

Those of you who've been reading my blog for a little while know that A) I'm a writer and B) My first ever (finished) work is a story about vampires called Nightbane. And, well, those of you who just started reading my blog now know that A) I'm a writer and B) My first ever (finished) work is a story about vampires called Nightbane.

And, well, since I'm a sharing person, I just wanted to share a little with you. And, you know, since I'm a blogger who doesn't know what else to write about at the moment, I'm going to do a kind of commentary on it... mostly because I'm bored, but also because I've always wanted to do a commentary. If you like it, say so, and I might do more. But, you know, that requires the use of that little comment box down there at the bottom of the page.

So, without further ado...

Prologue: Vampires

In the human world there are two kinds of darkness.  The first protects us from the harsh rays of the sun.  It helps us sleep.  It gives us a place to hide.  The other is a complete and terrifying darkness.  It is the Darkness. In its clutches, children lie awake, in fear of the monster they know is lurking under their bed.  It instills fear in the bravest of hearts and is the substance of our nightmares. 

However, although it is feared by humans, the Darkness is neither good nor evil. It simply is. At the dawn of time, it desired to find those through whom it might impose its will on the world of man. The beings who willingly chose to serve the Darkness were granted many gifts: the ability to fight, perform magic, and live forever, to name but a few. These creatures lurk in the shadows, shrouded by mystery. They are the beings that humans have christened “vampires”.

Vampires have remained on the fringes of human history, never stepping directly in its light. Since the beginning of time, they have lived in secret, shunned by those who fear their power. Even the Darkness itself chooses not to interact with most vampires. Eventually, they created a community of their own, though it is rarely a peaceful one.

Vampires are creatures of war. From a young age, children are instructed in the art of battle. Very few seek a life of peace. There are exceptions, but they are few and far between.

These exceptions are the Defenders. This group of vampires has fought since the greatest war still left to memory, Dracula’s War. They seek peace for their kind and defend the ignorant and unsuspecting humans from the vampires who wish to rule them with the grip of a tyrant – the Fallen.

The Fallen have no conscience whatsoever – no guiding moral principals to live for. The only being who can command them is the one who can kill until no one is left to oppose his blade. They plunder, kill, burn, and sack, leaving behind nothing but blood, fire, and rubble in their wake.

Some of the rulers of the Fallen, however, were not mindless killing machines. Dracula, who ruled the Fallen for two hundred years before meeting his destruction at the hands of his own son, managed to form the rabble of swords into a matchless army. Few fought against them and lived to tell the tale.

Now, however, Dracula had been dead for four hundred and fifty years. No wars have been fought since the last of his army was defeated. The glory of both the Defenders and the Fallen has long since faded, and they have become mere shades of what they once were. Even so, the Defenders who still remain hope this is a new beginning for the vampire community.

But no vampire can stay clean of blood for long…

-

So, believe it or not, roughly 80% of this is the original prologue that I wrote in my little Jack Sparrow notebook nearly five years ago. Which means, of course, that it needs MEGA work.

The main problem is that right now it's serving as a kind of a info-dump - meaning it's like BANG there are vampires and good vampires and bad vampires and Dracula and the Darkness and OMINOUSNESS.

Yes, I am aware that that isn't a proper English word.

Originally, the Defenders and the Fallen were going to be the center of the story - though I'm not really sure anymore what they were going to do. Fight over Geric (the main character), mainly? In the end they both turned into decrepit organizations left over from older days and wars.

It'd also probably be a lot cooler and more mysterious if the humans had christened the Children of Darkness with more names than just "vampire"... 

And, honestly, I'm not quite sure why I still keep trying to work the Darkness into the plot line of this book. I mean, it literally doesn't do anything... unless I save it for later... and make it the human name for the Everinti...

Ok, I figured out why Darkness is still there.

So, when I originally wrote this, I planned a (minimum) 9 book span - a trilogy describing the wars in Visaran (a.k.a. the world of the vampires), a trilogy about the vampire race's return to earth, and then a trilogy about the "next generation" of vampires. 'Course, the chances of me ever even getting the Visaran trilogy done are looking pretty slim right now...

So... yeah. That's the prologue of the book. Tell me if you want more, and I just might give it to you. If I'm feeling lucky. And you click on the button down there that says "cookies".

James

Over-Thinker, Eccentric and Slightly Insane Writer, Generally Awesome Guy, etc., etc.

Profound Thing #3 - Reality, Post-modernism, and Humans

I really don't know why this has been on my brain as much as it has recently, but it popped into my head the other day while I was mowing the lawn. I remembered one of my friends saying that there was a psychology professor who always started out his classes by bringing in a ball and saying, "This ball is not a ball."

Now, of course, it's obvious that the ball is a ball, despite what the professor says. The thing that gives his statement any weight, however, is the inherent difficulty of explaining why the ball is a ball.

I mean, think about it. What makes a ball a ball? If it's spherical? But old undersea mines were spherical, so that's obviously not all there is to being a ball. Is it a ball because it bounces? Well, there are lots of balls that don't bounce, and lots of not-balls that do bounce... i.e., a wrecking ball and silly-putty, respectively. There is just something that tells us "That is a ball" when we see one. They have inherent ball-ness.

So the professor makes his point off of first the fact that it is incredibly difficult to describe why something is what it is, then also ties in his belief in what we call post-modernism - that what's true for you is true for you and what's true for me is true for me, and somehow these two truths exist in tandem with one another. He'll say that, even though you see a red ball, he doesn't. He sees a fish, or a saw, or a deadly snake-eating chiwawa. And who are you to say that what he sees is wrong?

The idea he's trying to present, of course, is that humans define their own realities. We perceive what we choose to perceive, and, since each human is on the same level as all his brothers, no one's reality is any more true than anyone else's.

And, of course, this may - to some extent, be true. For example, take the madman. His mind alters his perception of reality. In a way, any and everything he sees is defined by what he thinks of it. In fact, the professor might propose, it is actually we who are mad, and the insane man the only one who is actually lucid.

Now, of course, modern science and philosophy have reached these conclusions because they refuse to acknowledge the existence of the super-natural. (Unless, of course, the super-natural is some kind of alien life form. Because that just makes so much more sense than believing in any kind of higher power, much less the God. That was sarcasm, for those of you who couldn't catch it.) Mankind all have an equal ability to define reality - personal, transient. God, however...

Possibly one of the most famous quotes from Alexandre Dumas's book, The Count of Monte Cristo, is when Edmond Dantes, the hero of the book, screams at his teacher, who he calls Priest, "I don't believe in God!" Priest, with a dead-pan stare, replies, "It doesn't matter. He believes in you."


And it is here that we come to the crux of the failure of post-modernism. Certainly, humans are free to believe whatever they wish. They can even, to a point, alter their perception of what is true and false. But, in the end, God defines basic reality. He is the source of Truth. He is the reason why.


Eventually, I think, science may progress to the point where it begins to grasp that, no matter how hard it tries, it can never tell us more than "how". For example, a common question among young ones - and some older ones - is "Why is the sky blue?". Scientists, with a smile on their faces, tell us exactly how the sky is blue (you know, light-waves and whatnot), and think they've answered the question.  But they haven't. They haven't told us why, because as long as you reject the idea of a God you can never answer the question why.


So, in the end, God is the source of all true Truth and knowledge. The wisdom of man is foolishness to Him, for He is the very definition of wisdom. All post-modernism boils down to simple human pride - placing ourselves where His throne should be, making ourselves out to be the definers of reality.


The problem is, he's a lot bigger, a lot stronger, and a lot more God than we are. So in the end, we become the children who cover our eyes and yell to their parents, "I can't see you, so you can't see me!"


James
Occasional Sayer of Things Profound, Blogger of Things Totally Random, Gregory, etc., etc. 

The Formal

Alright, I'll admit it - dances are a lot more fun than I'd thought they'd be. Even if I fail epically at them nine times out of ten.

For those of you who don't know, we had a Formal the other night. That's kind of like a homeschooled version of Prom, minus the pressure to find a date, most of the expenses, and modern music. It was actually pretty fun - despite the auspicious lack of non-white people.

Basically there were three parts - the standaround/break the ice part, the eating part, and the dancing part. You can probably surmise from their names what we did.

And if I was feeling witty, I'd come up with a very clever reason to tell you exactly why all your reasons are wrong, and somehow tie them into a clever assassination plot. But, unfortunately, I'm not feeling witty. Actually, I'm feeling mostly dead. It's this blasted pollen. It's messing with my head. And my throat. And I don't like it.

The best part, of course, was supper. I mean, food is always a general high point in any experience. But this food was pretty freaking amazing. And so were the people at my table. I think it was the first time I'd hung out with people from my homeschool who were actually predominately in the same grade as me. Apparently the lines that divide grades are almost non-existent at LCA, which is strange for me.

Bah, I'm trying to think of something else funny to write, but I'm not in a funny-ness mood. So, instead, we will talk about something... profound.


In the next post.

James
Epic (Failure of a ) Dancer, Generally Cool Person, but Also a Person Who's Coolness is Negatively Affected by Pollen, etc., etc.

April Fools!

So, I don't know if any of you have noticed, but I've been playing with the little word-thingies over there. -> They now no longer read boring things like "followers", but attempt to ascribe to you, the readers, the awesomeness that you deserve. I've also started adding slightly witty tags along with my posts, and, if you scroll waaaaaaay down to the bottom, you'll find a search bar.

Just in case, you know, you were too lazy to click on the post you wanted to read...

As many of you know, today is April Fool's day. Traditionally, this is a day where people play practical jokes on other people... because they can. I've heard all sorts of stories about how it got started in the first place, but somehow I get the feeling that most of them were started as April Fool's jokes themselves.

Now, all day long I've been straining to come up with a good April Fool's joke to tell here. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't think of a single, even mildly funny prank. That should give you some idea just how exhausting this week has been for me. At the moment, I'm hyped up on sugar and caffeine and absolutely nothing else. Is that healthy? Probably not. But, hey, you're only young once, right?

Well, in keeping with my traditions, I have to recommend some things for you people to watch in whatever spare time you have after reading this blog. My non-biological sister, Lauren, introduced me to Charlieissocoollike today. Basically, he's a British video blogger who's downright hilarious. I mean, he's British - that in and of itself is more than enough to warrant checking it out.

I also realized I haven't written anything about Mia recently. I haven't been keeping you people updated in any way, shape, form, or fashion. In some ways, I feel kinda guilty for that. Not very, though, 'cause (of course) nothing's happened. That's the way my life goes... a lot of nothing followed by an occasional dose of nothing.

Bah, listen to me. I sound like a bitter old man. I should be happy that I'm finally back in the money. Of course, after you spend your whole afternoon mowing the lawn of a... questionable individual who has been out of town for over a year and STILL hasn't paid you for the last time you mowed their lawn a year ago, and you know you're only getting 15$ for it, it's kinda hard.

Oh, did any of you get my April Fools joke? Ha, I fooled you all into thinking I had no idea what to do for April Fools! SUCKERS!!!

... Uh-oh. The Lameness Police are breaking down my door. I gotta run.

James
Failure at April Fool's Jokes, Man of Un-eventful Life, Person Too Asleep to Come Up With a Third Title, etc., etc.