WAG - A simple bet

Things got pretty quiet when I was working the front desk this morning.

You know, of course, this led to gambling.

Well, only a little bet.

When looking at the weather forecast on the National Weather Service site and the conversation ended up on the perdiction that temperatures were to hit the 80s Wednesday.

I know this site to be very accurate, so I sided with the sit. My friend disagreed. Lines were drawn.

I don't remember who said the word "bet" first, but soon I was offering a measly $1 wager of the forecast.

My friend said she didn't want to bet, not because of the amount, but of the ego and embarassment involved should one lose.

I said I understood.

She then said how about a dare?

Whoa. That involves more than a dollar, I countered. She agreed.

Somewhere in here, however, the rational side of my brain opted out of the conversation and now I've pledge to sing backup on one of her new songs (when my friend gets bored, she composes little ditties - you do NOT want to ask about the "Caleb, Caleb, Caleb" song, set to the tune of "Dradle, Dradle, Dradle").

If she loses... well we haven't thought that far ahead. As another friend said to her, "It's hard to come up with something that would make you embarassed."

I think that's a compliment.

Anyway, I'm now closely watching the themometer seeing if it hits over 80 by the end of Wednesday. I'm a bit bumed by the fact the site downgraded its forecast to "High around 80."

There may be karaoke in the future, folks.

Pity the people in earshot.

'I_bet_it_all_on_a_good_run_of_bad_luck'

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WAG - A simple bet

Things got pretty quiet when I was working the front desk this morning.

You know, of course, this led to gambling.

Well, only a little bet.

When looking at the weather forecast on the National Weather Service site and the conversation ended up on the perdiction that temperatures were to hit the 80s Wednesday.

I know this site to be very accurate, so I sided with the sit. My friend disagreed. Lines were drawn.

I don't remember who said the word "bet" first, but soon I was offering a measly $1 wager of the forecast.

My friend said she didn't want to bet, not because of the amount, but of the ego and embarassment involved should one lose.

I said I understood.

She then said how about a dare?

Whoa. That involves more than a dollar, I countered. She agreed.

Somewhere in here, however, the rational side of my brain opted out of the conversation and now I've pledge to sing backup on one of her new songs (when my friend gets bored, she composes little ditties - you do NOT want to ask about the "Caleb, Caleb, Caleb" song, set to the tune of "Dradle, Dradle, Dradle").

If she loses... well we haven't thought that far ahead. As another friend said to her, "It's hard to come up with something that would make you embarassed."

I think that's a compliment.

Anyway, I'm now closely watching the themometer seeing if it hits over 80 by the end of Wednesday. I'm a bit bumed by the fact the site downgraded its forecast to "High around 80."

There may be karaoke in the future, folks.

Pity the people in earshot.

'I_bet_it_all_on_a_good_run_of_bad_luck'

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WAG - Bad Beginning, Unknown Ending

You know the email is going to be bad when it starts with "The good news is..."

No setup or anything.

That tells you bad news is to come. And it did.

One of the low points about my vacation was talking with a friend about a mutual friend's possible pregnancy.

Now I find the first friend I was talking to now is facing the same situation.

For those of you who do, pray for my friend and the best possible outcome for this situation; not that I know what it is.

_News_Follows_Good_News_Follows_Bad_News_Follows'

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WAG - Some Sacrilegious Easter Shopping

I was snared by consumer hypnotism yesterday.

After walking past aisles of eggs, bunny rabbits, and dozens of pastel colored items, the repetition got to me and I decided to buy some Easter decorations.

I figure the ornament decals I put up in the window back in December could use some rotation. I can also put up an Easter nick-knack or two. Granted, one can do only so much with a 12 by 12 cell, but it doesn’t hurt to add a touch of the holidays (Crap! I feel like I’m channeling Martha Stewart!).

Anyway, though I bought into the idea I needed to purchase some decorative items, I didn’t want to be too tacky. I didn’t need a sign that said “Bunny Crossing” and I didn’t need a giant inflatable egg or a mini “Easter Tree” (I really saw them for sale. You can hang miniature Easter ornaments on it).

I decided to focus on window decals for three reasons. First, they’re easy to put up. Second, they don’t take up much space. And third, and most importantly, they’re cheap.

When I started picking through the Easter decals, I wanted to look for something that focused the original focus of Easter: the celebration of Christ’s resurrection. I soon realized that would be impossible.

Easter, like St. Valentines Day, Christmas, and a multitude of other holidays have been largely taken over by capitalism. Sellers swap religious values with something that will sell better.

I wasn’t looking for a crucifixion scene decal set (the silhouette of Jesus on the cross wouldn’t sell well [or be tasteful, but tastefulness is second to the ability to attract consumers]), but I was hoping there would be items like “He is risen!” and the like.

Robin Williams has a routine where he talks about how capitalism influenced the holiday. You can’t have Chocolate cream-filled Christs. Bunnies and eggs are meant to represent new life, but they ended up taking over the holiday.

I reluctantly settled with pastel colored decals of eggs and proclamations of “Happy Easter.” It’s good that people get excited about holidays; both about the religious and secular activities. Along with traditional special Easter services I get into “the other stuff” as well. I’m a sucker for a good Easter egg hunt and Lord knows how many chocolate bunnies I’ve consumed in my lifetime. And Cadbury eggs, mmm… ‘Nuff said.

Still, along with capitalism idols Peter Cottontail and Easter Bunny, I wish I could recognize the original as well.

Of course, it’s only exterior decorations. I guess I’ll just have to work on the interior ones a little bit more.

'So_what_if_theres_no_Easter_Bunny_in_the_Bible'

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WAG - The Smith “Cold War” Comes to an End

Coming back from college always leads to “interesting” moments when I stumble across changes that have occurred in my absence. In the past I’ve discovered my old room was turned into a storage area and I’ve had the thrill to see old restaurants disappear and belated see the arrival of the first stoplight in Sullivan (I border the area known as “the sticks” I don’t live in “the sticks” but I do see its influence in community life).

I’ve enjoyed fun conversations that have had such fun conversation stoppers such as, “Oh, it burned down,” or “It went out of business and they put in a Mexican place instead.”

There’s usually nothing to say after you hear that.

The biggest change I’ve had to deal with since I got back wasn’t a physical change, but a shift in attitude.

It seems that over the last semester, when both Smith children had moved out of the house for the first time, a truce was declared between my father and the cat.

Let me explain…

For over a decade, Patches, an energetic calico, and my dad, a stubborn human, have not gotten along. We (and by “we” I mean me, my sister, and my mother) almost didn’t get a cat. My father once had a two-week business trip/conference around the same time someone dumped a kitten in the neighborhood. When he got back, he was surprised to see a cat had moved in on our porch (that was probably partly due to the food and water and blankets and attention we provided her).

My father didn’t like cats, he was always a dog person, and he said “No.” That all changed when my sister asked my father, with tears in her eyes and a trembling lip, “Please can we keep the kitty?”

And so we got a cat.

Though he said yes, under the condition Patches became an indoor cat and stayed in the basement, animosity still existed. The cat was barred from upstairs, though the Smith children would sometimes let the cat upstairs when papa was home, or even “accidentally” sometimes when he was home. I think the cat figured out early that my dad was the reason why she stayed downstairs, and that was the reason why she exclusively targeted his stuff. Everybody stored stuff in the basement, but the cat left pile of… you know… consistently on my Dad’s stuff. I remember one time when I brought a book of his, left it downstairs for a minute, went back to retrieve it only to see the cat had already “visited” it.

My dad, for his part, has long made comments about disposing of the cat. Drowning was the most mentioned method. “I remember when all it used to take was a burlap bag,” he would sometimes remark. My dad would make nasty cat remarks, the cat would respond with vomit.

And the viscous cycle continued.

Anyway, I was surprised this break to find my dad no longer freaked out when the cat was out when he was home. In fact, he even let her up sometimes.

Imagine my surprise, after years of hatred and mutual disgust, that the two sides could now share the same couch.

It would be like watching North and South Korea going, “Okay, we’ve been acting foolish. Let’s forget this demilitarized zone and be friends!”

So now the cat is up a lot more often. She is typically put downstairs before supper, because no one appreciates a cat seeking attention while you’re trying to enjoy the meal (the tail in your face and the hair in your food are not welcome).

Nevertheless, it’s weird watching the Smith equivalent of the Berlin Wall come crashing down.

Oh well. Might as well do what the Germans do.

TIME FOR A LIBERATION CELEBRATION!

If you will excuse me, I need to grab a sledgehammer and a party hat.

'Why_Cant_We_Be_Friends'

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WAG - Well it's been a long day...

Much done.

Little vacation left.

One long email sent off (where I spent almost as much time trying to send it to people as long as it took to compose it).

At least some good was done.

Well, until the hate emails start pouring in: "Why are you sending me this crap?" "Do you think you're funny?" "Never email me again!"

And that's just the subject lines. Ah...

But for now, rest.

'Loooong_Day'

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WAG - Bummin'

I've been home about 17 hours.

I've already slept in late (till 10 a.m.), crashed on the couch with the cat, started combing through my parents' DVD collection, and read 5 books (all roughly 150 pages apiece).

Life is good.

'Bliss'

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WAG - Leaving the "Break House"

In email communication with my parents, my Dad has referred to the Columbia apartment I've been crashing in as the "Break House."

Today, I am happy to say I'm on may way out.

Reporters outnumber stories, and with the two stories I've worked on this week I've done more than most of the other people hanging around. I'm at the bottom of the pecking order surrounded by very hungry people.

If I'm just going to sit around and surf the internet all day long, I'd rather do that on a couch in Sullivan than in the Missourian newsroom.

No offense George Kennedy, wherever you are.

[Pay no mind to the inside references. Just do what you'd do in conversation - smile, nod, and keep going forward and only ask for a clarification later if you're still completely confused {and maybe not even then}]

My bags were packed before I made my final bike to the Missourian today. I still have a bit of food to bundle up, and I need to do standard house cleaning stuff like emptying the trash and putting dishes back in the cupboards, but I'm otherwise ready to rocket out of here.

I wouldn't call it a waste of time. I've had a good time over the last few days. I think I can put my vacation to better use from a position on the couch rather than at a desk.

Next stop: Sullivan.

'Free_at_last'

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WAG - Freelance Thoughts

[Composed around 3:00 P.M. posted...see above]

Today, I feel a bit like Ebenezar Scrooge after he was visited by the Ghost of Christmas future.

(Upfront, I want to say stick with me. I'm going somewhere interesting with this)

I may have been given a glimpse into a possible future and it frightens me a bit.

Today I have glimpsed the world of the Freelance Writer!

[Cue shudders]

As I sit in the Missourian newsroom and pound out an email to make up for the fact I have done no real work in roughly the last three hours, I have a better idea of what it is like to exist from one press release to the next.

I have worked on two stories since the start of "Spring Break." For those of you who have been keeping close track of my insane ploy, I volunteered to spend part of my break "helping out the Missourian." I committed to this before war broke out when it looked like the heavy stuff would hit over vacation.

[Cue softly muted-maniacal laughter]

As anyone who has paid close attention to the recent events in the Middle East, from Iraqi war planners to high paid cable tv annylists, the war hasn't gone to plan. OR MORE ACCURATELY, the military hasn't done anything anyone predicted before hand.

The war started at dawn. The massive force of troops were inserted before the heavy air campaign started. Terrorist counter strikes didn't start the minute bombs started to drop. Saddam didn't unlease chemical or biological weapons in the first wave (though he did put to use some Scud missiles that he didn't have - wonder where he dug those up from?).

I give credit to the allied war planners because this thing doesn't resemble anything close to what has expected before Wednesday. My one...I wouldn't call it a complaint, but rather a point to be worked on... is that it has made good stories hard to find.

First off, that is good!

Stories about grief stricken widows or fatherless children make sensational stories, but aren't tales I would look forward to telling. When charting out the timing and consequences of war, that would determine whether or not I stayed or not, I knew the start of war would be a major event (and would prompt a wave of stories). Two x-factors I listed, which could also prompt stories were terrorist
attacks and the deadly use of weapons of mass destruction.

Thus far, I am happy to report, that hasn't happened. Kurds have not been gased. Coalition cities have not been bombed (though traces of ricin, a poison with no cure, were found in a French airport locker - that's ironic in a twisted way). There isn't anything major to report.

I've worked on two stories since I got here, and though that makes me feel like part of my break was spent getting work done (and scoring points with editors), I don't think it will be enough to keep me here through the rest of the week.

It's always a bit annoying to be outguessed, and I totally gauged the war wrong. I was in the Hearnes Center when war broke out. I had enough prior thought to bring a stenopad to the game, just in case. I had also joked that, with my ironic luck, war would hit while I was there, but I hadn't seriously expected it to begin Wednesday.

I wasn't engaged in a gambling pool on the war date, though I did jokingly propose one in the Local Government beat meeting (in retrospect, I wish I had. I doubt anyone would have one and I'd have the pot to myself), I would have placed money on early on Thursday evening - at the same time when the sun went down on Iraq.

Of course, if I have been out-maneuvered, and I have, that only puts me in a very vast and widespread category filled with generals and lowly J-students alike.

As I briefly reference back the joke I started this post with, I find myself pleading before a faceless, dark spectre.

Please spirit, tell me. It can be changed, can't it? This is only a view of what MIGHT be? I could have a steady job with actual assignments! I wouldn't have to worry about getting "paid" on commission! Speak to me ghastly prophet! Let me know there is time to change...

THIS ENDS TODAY'S PRESENTATION OF CALEB'S SUBCONSCIOUS THEATRE.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME WHEN CALEB WILL TAKE ANOTHER CLASSIC AND CORRUPT IT
WITH HIS TWISTED MIND.

AND NOW, A PREVIEW:

Macbeth: Lay on, MacSmith, And darn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!"

MacSmith: This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

Macbeth: What?

MacSmith: [Briefly consults dog-eared copy of script] I'm sorry. I thought we were doing King Lear.

[Macbeth pulls out his copy of script and tosses it to MacSmith] Macbeth? Crud! Um... Where are we now?

Macbeth: Act Five, Scene Eight. Keep in mind we're running out of time before final bows.

MacSmith: Uh...alright. HA! [Plunges sword into Macbeth]

Macbeth: [Screaming in pain] Ah! [Then Macbeth pauses, collects himself, and replies in anger] What are you doing? I had another monologue to go! Besides Macbeth isn't finished off until MacSmith cuts his head off.

MacSmith: Oh. Alright. [Raises sword above his head]

Macbeth: AH!

AND THAT CONCLUDES OUR PREVIEW - WE WOULDN'T WANT TO GIVE AWAY THE ENDING

Yep, yep, yep. If I have the time to compose this whole email uninterupted by editors, its time to call it a day.

I hope everyone is enjoying themselves as much as I am.

Good day.

'Working_Hard_or_Hardly_Working'

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WAG - Stumped

Don't you hate it when someone gives you a new email address, and when you go to send them something, you find out a letter or glyph has been recorded incorrectly?

One will double-, tripple-, quintople-, (I don't know any more but keep going-le) checking what was written.

Once that it done, one starts strange variations where letters are swtiched or different glyphs are tried (did they mean "_" or "-" ?).

In the end, I've gotten nowhere and will have to go through an ackward explanation of how I emailed her, but she never got it.

Won't that be fun?

'Denied'

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WAG - Sweeping Ponderings...

I am alone.

OR RATHER...

I feel like writing, "I am alone."

That statement isn't accurate.

But as a person who sometimes likes to relect the musings of a tortured, creative mind, sometimes I like to make tragic, sweeping statements.

I guess I'm funny that way.

I'm not alone. I'm not isolated.

I just don't know many of the people around me.

There. Therapy through writing.

Hey - it saves money.

'Not_Alone'

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WAG - A Re-evaluation of the Sitcom Situation

So here I am in my friend's apartment.

Four bedrooms, two baths, and one sole occupant - for now.

It's really an ironic situation.

When I first began to contemplate potentially, possibly, maybe if it was really necessary, staying over Spring Break, I was under the impression I would be alone if I stayed in my friend's apartment.

That was part of my pitch to my parents about staying in Columbia as the U.N. situation continued to go nowhere.

When war appeared imminent at the start of the week (and when one says "ending diplomatic efforts" that doesn't leave much up to the imagination), I committed to the plan.

Then came the news that my friend's roomates hadn't nailed down their plans yet.

When it became obvious I was sticking it out a few extra days, that meant I got to have an "entertaining" conversation with my parents where I informed them I may be a lone guy in an appartment packed with up to 4 women.

That went over well...

Though four girls, a guy, and an appartment may sound like a scrapped ABC pilot (See also Three's Company + Two) one can imagine the following conversation that came from my conservative parents.

Anyway...

At the end of the week I then learned that plans had changed. It turns out that they all made plans to leave Saturday.

So after that extremely unpleasant conversation with my parents, I'm typing alone in the apartment. One will be back Thursday for work, but she's a night ER nurse who works 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. and sleeps a lot. She's also nearly 30, and as my good friend tactfully put it, I have no chance with her.

Not that I was looking, but that's good to know (though still not reassuring to the parents).

All of the others, including my friend who has so graciously helped me craft this oportunity/tragedy (we'll find out which one it was by the end of the week), are involved with good, steady relationships so even if they come back early I still wouldn't have any prospects (though that too is still not reassuring to the parents).

So, in the end, I find it extremely ironic that I ended up alone in the apartment, as originally envisioned, but I am still burdened with the guilt as if I was rooming in a Sorority House.

I've always said my life was like a tv sitcom. All that's left to do is roll some cameras and send the tape to ABC...

COMING THIS FALL!

He's a poor journalism struggling to snag some stories.

She's the President of her Sorrority which is in danger of losings its charter if it doesn't reach quota.

He needs a place to rest his head.

She needs a body to fill a room.

You do the math.

Please don't miss the wacky co-ed misadventures on

"There's a Guy in Sigma Delta Phi"

ONLY ON ABC!

(Tell me the truth, you can actually see the promos already, can't you? I thought so...)

'Review'

Note from 2005: The ER nurse ended up leaving early and I vacated the premises long before anyone had the chance to return (finally, assuring my parents).

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WAG - A Momentary Release

NewsEngin, the program the Missourian uses to run everything, got so jacked up, they needed to restart the server.

That meant every single computer in the building had to log off of the program.

No NewsEngin = No work.

I've been enjoying my... crud.

"We're back up!" they say.

Back to the grind...

'A_Break'

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WAG - And it comes...

A war, a sticky double-overtime, a timewarp, a deadline, a funny movie about Greeks, a 1:00 a.m. fire alarm, and a mechanical glitch at the presses that ate the Missourian's special edition on the war.

I hope the next 24, hell 12, hours are a lot less packed the period that proceeded them.

But nevertheless, God bless America and pray for the people involved in the conflict.


'Alpha'

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WAG - A Few Hours Later

As the world begins to react, with countries both supporting and denoucing several opinions, I get ready to head out to a long day.

J-306, the Missourian lecture, has been cancelled; if you can believe that, though it's going to be a long, long day.

Sigh... Giddy up!

'Yowser'

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WAG - Concentrating on Concentration

With all these rumors of war and countdowns and general tenseness, it's hard to concentrate.

Depending on when war comes, I may be called upon to sacrifice my Spring Break.

Other Spring Break plans area threatened.

I know one person who was striving to make a trip to New York, but he's afraid if he gets there, he won't be able to make it out should the United States go to Color Red on the Terror Color wheel - in which case New York would all but close down.

I know a person who's suppossed to lead a trip to Washington D.C. and she's questioning her resolve (while her parents tell her not to go). It's not only a case of a cut back itinerary, if we go to war one may not be able to get such a close look at the Washington Monument. She's worried about being cautious, but not paranoid, and questioning if they should continue going.

My plight is only one piece in a bigger puzzle...

Boy I wish I could see the picture on the front of the box.

But I'm sure we're missing pieces, so it doesn't matter anyway.

'15'

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WAG - Strange Days

During his speech yesterday evening, when Bush announced 48 hours till open season, I hit my stopwatch.

By my watch, we have 20 hours and 31 minutes left.

Pray hard folks. It's gonna be a bumpy week.

'14'

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WAG -

An Experiment in Freedom of Speech

When recording the big news of the day on the Hatch Hall marker board, I found there was little to joke about.

Sure, I had comments about pinching on St. Patrick's Day, but then everybody makes those jokes (even if everyone isn't a pincher, or a pinchee).

Anyway, in lieu of a board filled with smarmy comments, which I would have a hard time composing with my mind pondering serious things, I left the board open to public comments.

I posted the comments "Say Something!" and "Don't be Scared to Share" to get it started so people wouldn't be scared by the white space.

Here's some of what the public had to say:

This is not good.

Puppies!

Lets sing the doom song! Doomdoomdoomdodoomdobbydoom.

Oh...H.E. Double Hockey Sticks

TROGDOR! [A Homestar Runner reference]

God Bless America

Bush = :( [To which someone added] and dead people [to which someone added] & higher tuition

- 18 Days until the start of the Quiz Bowl Nationals at UCLA

Regime change starts at home.

English Sux!

I [Heart] Bush!

Doomed! We are all doomed. Woo hoo!

Stay outta the Bushes.

God bless the USA [to which someone added] and all of humanity.

[And last, but not least, my boss made sure we included:]

Disclaimer. These comments do no necessarily represnt the opinion of the Hatch Hall Front Desk.


Yep, we still have freedom of speech, even if one must temper it with political correctness.

"Puppies!" That still cracks me up...

'13'

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WAG - Final Moves to Checkmate

When the White House says no more diplomatic games, "advises" U.N. weapons inspectors to get the hell out of the way, and a 72 hour (3-day) ultimatum period is suggested (though the actual length may vary), one knows things about about to bust loose.

People are tense, on edge, and ready for this to get over with.

All this and I just drew a green shamrock on my hand to make sure I don't get pinched anymore.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY EVERYBODY!

If irony wasn't dead, it'd be killing me.

'12'

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WAG - Computer Comforts

After about two hours of reading articles on race, and how little progress the country has made, I seek solistice in the all encomposing embrace of the computer.

I go through the regular website check-up. I head to CNN to see if we’re at war yet. Nope. Nothing big is going on. I check CBS News to how the latest Point-Counterpoint debates between Clinton and Dole went. From my biased, heavily opinioned viewpoint, Dole won this one, tying the series at to 1 and 1.

Then tiring of that, I turned to my extensive mp3 collection. Yes, I am an internet bandit. I download music rather than paying for it most of the time. Maybe if CDs were cheaper, or had more than 2-4 good songs on an 18 track disk, one might be willing to buy them more often.

It’s always telling when the ratio of CD burning to CD purchasing is so steep it’s laughable.

Napster may be gone, and lawsuits may be pending against KaZaA, Morpheus, and others, but they’ll never be able to behead the Hydra of the file-swapping community.

But still they do try.

Good luck.

If you will excuse me, I have to get back to the song..

“You’re what?!”

“Tin roof…rusted.”

No I don’t know what it means, but rock on anyway!

'11'

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WAG - Wicked Bad Insomnia

Okay, before I get started, I'll admit it's foolish to be complaining about insomnia shortly after midnight, but I tried to go to bed early and have had no luck.

I did get a one-hour nap in late this evening and maybe that's what screwed me up. Scientists say the average person has 25-hour circadian rhythm-which is why it's easy to stay up a bit later, but still stay on a regular schedule.

I've long believed I had a 27- or 28-hour circadian rhythm, which is convienient in a pinch, but means waking patterns are screwy.

Of course, ANOTHER reason why I may not be able to sleep is the number of thoughts going around my head.

I think I may have read too much today. You know what they say about books: reading them teaches you things, and knowledge is very dangerous.

In Journalism 306 lecture, my teacher went over a long list of recommended readings. After I went to the Missourian today, and found out my source wouldn't be able to talk to me till tommorrow, I decided to cruise downtown Columbia.

Actually, I went straight toward Acorn Books. It's one of those bookstores where it's impossible not to find anything interesting, and almost as hard to walk out without purchasing anything (more often my goal is to walk out with only one selection [maybe two if the price is good]).

I had a short list of books on my mind, from the lecture, and was surprised to see the top recomendation perched atop a pile in a random corner of the store (and a bit removed from the Journalism section).

The book was "Hiroshima" by John Hersey.

It originally was a 31,000 word article that appeared in The New Yorker in 1946. It tells the tale of the first atomic bomb used in war from the perspective of six "survivors" [NOTE: The term "survivors" is rarely used in Japan, out of traditional respect for the dead. The term "hibakusha," literally translated "explossion-affected persons," is more commonly used to describe witnesses and survivors of the blast].

I pretty much read the book in one sitting. The author gives a straight forward account and lets the stories tell themselves and let the readers draw their conclusions/morals from there.

The book was pretty powerful. It's definately thought provoking; especially on the edge of another war.

From here, a person could make an anti-war statement pointing to tragedy that stuck innocents AND one could make pro-war statements about taking out Saddam's weapons of mass destruction to keep the pledge carved at the Hiroshima memorial: Rest in peace, for the mistake shall not be repeated.

Rather than picking a side and/or play devil's advocate, let me just type this: war isn't pretty. People forget or sometimes consciously avoid reminders of that reality. When you go to war, people get injured and die.

That doesn't mean one shouldn't go to war. There are a handful of things worth dying for out there. I wouldn't say there's a lot, but they're out there.

People need to be aware of both of those concepts. I won't personally savor the thought of all the Americans AND Iraqi that will die (especially when one knows people who have shipped out). I also don't think putting off war will avoid long-term bloodshed (when one secretly works on weapons of mass destruction, they are meant to be used, rather than weapons which are worked on out in the open which are meant to be a deterrant).

I looks like a new chapter will start in the Persian Gulf later this week, for the record, I don't say Gulf War II because technically Saddam never signed a peace treaty, only cease fires tied to disarmament.

Over the weekend, there were several articles of how Coalition and Iraqi troops were being moved into final positions. Nobody seems to question what's going to happen next.

In the final calm before the storm, I think it is important to reflect upon the bigger picture. In my updated edition of Hiroshima, there is an extra chapter written almost 40 years after the article ran where the author attempted to trace what had happened to his original six interview subjects.

I was extremely surprised to see they all lead happy, successful lives. Some even rose to national and international recognition (one got to speak before the U.S. Senate and another got an invitation from the Pope). Others simply carried on, rebuilt, and ulitmately thrived.

Even after the darkest of times, one can still work toward a brighter, better future. I hope you can find some comfort in that.

For you J-School viewers, or other people who are
intrigued or would appreciate a good read, here's a
site that gives you more information on the novel and the background of the original article.

Look for it a library or bookstore near you.

In the meantime, take care of yourselves and may the Lord be with you.

'9'

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WAG - New Link

It amazes me how I have more trouble finding time to update this log on weekends than I do on weekdays.

Nevertheless, here's a new site to take note of.

A couple days I ago, I stumbled across this site maintained by a U.S. soldier (actually I'm not sure if he is a soldier [which refers to an army man]. He prefers to remain annonymous and not identify what branch of the forces he's in).

Though many may think a site like that would be heavily edited, it actually tells a lot. He's barred from reporting information about location or future movements/tactics, but otherwise is pretty free to post his stuff for the world to see.

I've found his site to be both funny and thought provoking. I'd expect the site to go on hold once an invasion starts, but it is interesting getting a glimpse into the life of a man on the front.

This will be a permanent link on the site for a while. Start with the March 13, 2003 entry because Smash answers a lot of standard, intro questions one may have when they visit the site.

I hope you learn a bit more from an underepresented view of the war.

'8'

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WAG - Differences in Perspectives

There were a bunch of kids on campus today. I don't know how many dozens of buses there were, but around one the campus was jammed packed-mostly with children 3-feet tall or shorter.

As I was walking past Speaker's Circle, I heard a little girl call out, "Hey! Cheerleaders."

I looked to where she had pointed and I shook my head.

There were four girls lined up in a row chanting and shaking black pom-poms.

"Nope," said to myself. "War protesters!"

Ah, innoscense and cynicism.

Both sides could learn a lot from the other. One side could be more realistic and the other more accepting.

Of course,in this case, I'd rather just laugh.

Sure, they're cheerleaders. Have a good day kid. Enjoy you fun while it lasts.

'7'

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WAG - Something to Talk About

I've had many more talks, conversations, debates, and ramblings on war this week, than any other time before.

Whether one is Pro-War, Anti-War, Pro-sticking-one's-head-in-the-ground-and-waiting-for-next-year, or undecided (I think there might be 2 or 3 left out there in Columbia. This seems to be one of those subjects where EVERYONE has an opinion and a stance, even if they don't vocalize them very loudly.

Nevertheless, the fundamental agreement is that war is coming soon. It's been some time since I heard someone question whether or not we'll actually go to war. Maybe Hans Blix, but otherwsie I really can't recall anyone having doubts Bush is going to drop da bomb on Baghdad (by "da bomb" I'm referencing the new MOAB explosive. The acronym stands for Massive Ordnance Air Blast, but it is more commonly referred to as the Mother Of All Bombs. It is the most powerful non-nuclear bomb the US has. It's first primed test was conducted today in Florida and was deemed a success. I expect it will get further use before the end of the month).

In a charged environment filled not with "what if"s," but "when"s, I wasn't surprised to read this story.

This weekend, the Sunday Mirror reported that despite the fact we haven't gone to war yet, we've already had the first surenderers.

Apparently, Iraqi soldiers heard the sounds of British troops holding artillery practice ("Hey Colin! I bet you I can hit that sand dune!"). They apparently believed the invasion had started, and immediately crossed the border in Kuwait to surrender ("Hey Colin! What's with all them blokes coming over the hill with their arms in the air?").

Surrendering in a war that hasn't started yet definately has to be on my top-10 list of things that are pathetic. I think that speaks to the deffectiveness of the Iraqi army and the total lack of loyalty and trust they have in their fearless leader: Mr. I Have At Least 3 Stunt Doubles-Saddam Hussein (doesn't Saddam-look-alike have to be the WORST job in the world. People would say, "Hey, if you put on a beret, you kinda look like Mr. Hussein" and he would be like "Shh! Don't say that. I wouldn't want the word to get out.").

Even though they looked foolish, they Iraqi soldiers did have the right idea. Allied forces have promised not to attract Iraqi troops that surrender. An allied POW can probably sounds much more appealing than "Bunker Duty" beneath one of Saddam's palaces.

I'm sure more of these stories will be coming out in the following days (even cases where people surrender and they know war hasn't started yet).

I know news like this will probably be ignored when bigger things start hitting but it's nice to be able to talk about little kooky things like this while there's still time to laugh.

'6'

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WAG - One last experiment

Okay, I swear this is the last adjustment for tonight.

Okay, that makes updated comment boxes and subject lines so people have a hint about the subject.

I hope you all appreciate the effort.

'2'

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WAG - So much homework to do and so many stories to tell (and an ever decreasing amount of brain cells I can use to process both)...

Well, I've always found it more entertaining to tell a story so...

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

QUICK DAY-DREAM JUMP TO THE FUTURE:

"So let me tell you guys how I flunked out of MU and got to my current job of middle-manager at McDonalds; a position I have held for nearly 20 years now..."

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

WE ARE NOW RETURNING YOU TO REALITY - WHICH IS OFTEN MORE DANGEROUS THAN FANTASY...

Um... yeah... I think I'm gonna be good and do some homework.

Yeah.


LinktoComments'1'

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WAg - This is a test of the World According to Gap Emergency Webcast System.

This may or may not work, but you might be able to have individual comments after every post, and not just have to scroll down to the bottom of the page to make a general comment.

That way, your comments, quips, or other witty, thought-provoking statements can stay connected to the original entry and not just float around in an overall guestbook page.

This may not work at all, but then remember what I said at the beginning.

This is only a test.

LinktoComments'<$BlogItemNumber$>'

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WAG - So tired, but such a wicked-awesome last 48 hours.

Note: the term "wicked-awesome" should probably not be used when addressing the church congregation; even at a chilli supper.

I'm extremly drained, and didn't slow down till the feel-good endorphines ran out about 11:30 and I realized every movement caused pain.

Quick summary: Journalism Blow-out at the Bear's Breath Bar [no alcohol ingested on my part, for the record], all-day preparation for the annual Royal Ranger Chilli Supper (chilli in the morning, chilli in the evening, chilli at suppertime!), and the Honors Learning Community Formal Dance (where I was the epitome of casual wear).

More details to come - promise.

The voices are telling me to sleep, and though it rarely turns out good when I do this, I agree with them and am going to take their advice.

Good night from all of us!

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WAG - Oh, I added a new link.

On your left there is a link that will take you to the Toon Menu of Homestar Runner.com. It's a funny site that I got hooked on last semester, but have been late in sharing.

Note: Stong Bad's email is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. It's best if you watch them in order, staring from the bottom, but most stand on their own.

The characters in this world, from The Cheat to Strong Sad to the Poo Smith crack me up on a regular basis.

Also, it makes for great quoting material.

(DESPARATELY TRYING TO KEEP MYSELF FROM LISTING RANDOM QUOTES LIKE "IT WAS ABOUT TO GET 'CRAZY GO NUTS' OR "AND THE DRAGON COMES IN THE NIIIIIGGGGHHTTT!!!!!!!)

There. The moment has passed.

Enjoy.

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WAG p I really can't believe it.

Actually I can, but it's illogical if you think about it.

We had snow and a bit of freezing rain yesterday and it's suppossed to hit 60 degrees tomorrow.

I know the schizophrenic weather can all be chalked up to "it being Missouri," but still I have to admit it is freakin' crazy.

The temps are up, they're down, it's snowing, I'm buring up here, someone hand me an umbrella, geez!

Of course, it beats the alternative of being stuck with the same weather all the time.

Imagine all those losers in Hawaii with those tropical breezes day in, day out... Imagine...

IS IT SPRING BREAK YET?

No...?

Oh well...

At least Missouri doesn't have huricanes. Sure, we have tornados, but you'll never hear about Missouri being struck by a storm with a name ("Man, 'Tornado Bob' just ripped the tar out of that there trailler court!).

No sir ree, Bob!

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WAG - God bless in-dorm classes.

There's snow outside, the temperature is currently below zero, my class is in about 30 minutes, and I'm still in my room wrapped up in a warm blanket in shorts and a t-shirt.

I figure I still got 23 minutes before I need to change clothes, drop some books in my backpack, print off a paper at the computer lab, and walk an extra 15 meters to get to class fashionably early.

Before you grumble, this is my only class like this, and I still have to venture outside (including a hike to the Hearnes Center this evening with an instrument case because my usual ride to the basketball game won't be there, ironically enough, due to another basketball game [stupid inter-campus league]).

So before you send bad vibes my way and totally, totally mess with my mondo-mellow-yellow karma, just let me have my little fun and realize I'll soon be joining you outside in the muck.

On the plus side, it's suppossed to be 60 by Friday. Love that schizophrenic Missouri weather!

Have a good day folks, and stay warm (unless you're somewhere farther south, say like Texas, so then, stay cool)!

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WAG - I just took a quiz posted on a friend's site. Actually, it was the Steph's Journal link located just to your right.

(Now tell me, did your eye shift to the right as directed, or did you ignore my suggestion and look where it really was?)

Anyway...

I rated the exact opposite of how she did. Which wouldn't surprise either one of us.

I think some of the questions need some extra replies, there were some where I had to pick the closest to my belief, and not exactly what I think, but it ain't bad.

Try it out if you wish.


Where do you fall on the liberal - conservative political spectrum? (United States)
brought to you by Quizilla

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WAG - Well, I'm working at the the closing shift at the front desk again.

Actually, I'm not doing anything at all.

I guess that means I'm doing nothing waiting to close the front desk again.

I don't know why I can't do homework while on duty. I've been pondering this all semester and have yet to come up with a rationale why, other than working is not fun.

After that, my reasoning gets flimsy...

Oh! Cookies!

I just got a bag of chocolate chip cookies. Actually, I was given a bag a cookies some time ago, but I only now learned they were for me (when a smiling person hands you cookies and goes "Here!" you question the validity of the gift. Are they being kind, or will someone soon following demanding the return of their cookies [who would not appreciate the sight of crumbs on your lips either])?

Actually, I paused while writing the last paragraph, and now there are only two... there is only one cookie left.

Not much to report today, so let me just leave you with a sample of one of my conversations, which should give you some insight into the inner-workings of my life (or get a cheap laugh, either way works):

Caleb: "I'm a desk attendent. I do what I can, but I can't do it all. I'm kinda like George Clooney in a way..."

Paul: "Shut up Caleb!"

Thank you. You've been a wonderful audience. Goodnight.

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WAG - Blimey...

I'm constantly amazed how my weekends are usually more chaotic compared to days from the regular "work" week.

Fire alarms going off around 3:00 a.m., basketball games against MU's biggest rival, work, reading assignments, sleep, more sleep...

Actually, in retrospect, this weekend wasn't so bad. I didn't even have to drop by the Missourian (I got called by the Missourian, but I didn't actually have to cross campus to make an appearance there)! And my story still ended up on the front page with a graphic and photo and everything.

If it weren't for the council meeting I'm suppossed to cover this evening, and have an article done by 9:00 p.m., this day would be a snap.

Instead, life will be a bit tenser, but still nothing too bad (not that I want to be reminded of those lines around 8:45 p.m.).

Oh well, I'm off the races again.

Here's hoping for a decent finish.

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WAG - Still alive.

Still moving.

The natives still haven't figured out it was me who infiltrated their remote village, defiled their holy temple, and got away with the priceless Sacred Gem of Nartok-Zyo.

So far, so good.

I'll write more tomorrow, promise.

Do you hear tribal drums? Nah...

Good night.

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