Mind Game

Flames. Searing fire rolled across the vast wasteland like grass, an inferno savanna. In stark contrast to the flames I saw there was an equally expansive chasm of frost adjoining the flames. A wind alive and savage made a tornado of ice and screams in the midst of the abyss. I was hanging suspended between fire and ice, half my body shrieked for warmth and the other half died indeed for lack of cold. Agony, torment. I don't think I had stopped making some strange noise between a yell and a sob since being hung there. A blade was approaching me slowly, swinging for my neck. Please, let me die!

I awoke. My pillows were torn, the sheets ripped and my mattress soaked with tears and sweat. My breath came ragged to me and my ears pounded with the distress of my heart. No burns, no blackness of the bite of frost nor of the ravages of fire on my body. Hale, sound, whole. Shaking I stood and went to take a shower. Afterward I felt a little better, a little more real and stable. This house centered me, I had lived in it since childhood and every floor board, every swirl of ceiling paint was as familiar to me as the feel of the razor on my cheek. Home, safe.

I got ready for my workday and sighed, I had forgotten about my divorce papers. They were lying on the bedside table, waiting for my signature. Oh sweet Hannah, why? Depressed, I drove to work. What had I done to deserve divorce? I'd been faithful, diligent to work and support her and the kids, and gone the extra mile to stay connected to her and the kids... even after those trying days of making my boss see that my division was making profit. Nothing made sense. Until that letter about a hotshot named Rick and a bunch of convenient excuses about true love.

Before I knew it I had arrived at my designated parking spot. I must have driven on auto pilot, because I didn't remember the trip. Disturbed, I entered the building and said hello to those along the path to my office. "Well lo and behold here's Micky." Said my boss John. Sitting in my chair, drinking a cup of coffee and looking calm, John was never calm. "Good morning John." I said, trying to keep the caution out of my voice. "Sit down Mick." There it was, he only called me Mick when he was about to let a bomb drop. I sat.

An hour later I left the building stripped of my work ID card, building keys, and future. I took some deep breaths so I could resist the urge to scream or cry. No job, no family... What makes a man? What makes a life? Living the American dream... yet now the dream is over and the nightmare has come. Even more depressed I went home. I felt like a robot signing that divorce document, I felt like a dead man already signing my last will and testament. I took a walk.

The sky was dark and promising rain. The wind, like a harbinger of doom cried its banshee howl and pushed against me. My heart was a broken clock, my brain sludge. I was a hollow man. The time was 8:47 PM on Thursday, August the 23rd in the year 2008. My mind was clear, my heart stilled. Dry palms, clean forehead and steady knees accompanied me. I looked at the bottles of pills I had purchased, now all of them empty.

I woke up and the realization dawned on me like an undeniable horror. I was being baked and frozen and cut and the true nightmare hadn't been my suspension amid a fury of elements but the replay of my last moments in life. I looked to my left and another hanging figure said, "Yeah, welcome back. I think it must be the third year you have been here. You are new, it is obvious because you are still a dreamer. That will pass in time. Oh right, forgot to mention this but you can call me Lenin." I keened and wailed, and Lenin laughed and sobbed. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Dt

Fear Times Two

I didn't think it would be this way, seeing the world like I do now. A grandfather clock was ticking out the minutes with his slow dreadful swing, like a scythe that cuts the time he counts. Death the clock... Death of time. I smiled, death was everywhere I looked. A mirror stood beside the clock giving the pendulum a double image and a different mirror behind the swinging scythe expanded the images beyond the eye. Infinite death... infinite animated death. I laughed, how novel! Death for eternity! Still laughing, I interposed my body among the images of decapitation and looked at myself.

Aaaah, now here is something worse than death perhaps. That freckle two/thirds of one millimeter to the left of my nose was as annoying as ever, if only there were another freckle two/thirds on the other side as well... then maybe the balance would be more bearable. At least my eyes were the exact same shade of blue and even the lines shooting out from my pupils were in the same places. Good good, I muttered, it's bearable at least. I can suffer with this body, ah but what I wouldn't give to be like the grandfather clock or maybe even a spirit! Always perfect that way. I went to the kitchen and looked for something to eat.

Food, it always looked so strange. My body demands it but everything shouts at me, I am ugly! Chicken looks like the skin of a man, beef the blood of him... Vegetables make me feel like a cow and fish like a bear. I suppose I might as well be a cannibal today and eat a steak, at least I'll still be human. Or am I even now? I looked up at the ceiling tiles, good. Still fifty-six whole tiles and seven half tiles in the ceiling. I sat down at the table and started eating the steak... memories.

So many memories here. I heard laughter echo down the halls of time, no no no! Memories are dead! Time killed you, time kills everything! Betake yourselves into the middle! I punched myself on the jaw and threw the chair to the floor. Leave me in peace, can I have peace? Does peace exist? Maybe... The real question is, if I met peace would I know it? I laughed, no I wouldn't. If I met peace I think I might run away just because I wouldn't understand it. I approached the table again with disdain and contempt, like picking up a dead rat. Time to leave the house.

Goodbye house, goodbye yard. The sun was making the sky bright but clouds were making the ground dark in shadows. It was fall and the leaves were turning. The great change of nature, the slow march to a cold grave of snow. Death in nature! I laughed and the neighbors saw me out. They quietly slipped into their houses. My town, a ghost town... A ghost man. I walked down the streets, a ghastly breeze spreading the chill of my mood before me. Beware children! I smirked at the thought as I arrived at my destination. The house, her house... Here again.

Memories threatened to engulf me and swallow me whole, no no can't yet... later I'll remember. I knocked. The sound, that mournful sound, that hollow house, my hollow heart. I laughed at the thought, ding dong here comes the chariot of flames. The door opened. I smiled, seeing my kin. Hello sister, I said politely, have you seen the sun today? It seems to have gone out at last! She looked at me, her eyes were far, far away. Hello brother, she said softly, yes.... perhaps the night will come for us at last? I entered the house.

Darkness was there... The darkness of our hearts, perhaps of our minds? Who knows, maybe this house is as it should be the only place that matches us. Burn world! Become charcoal and a wasteland, so that I can wander it and feel like we know each other, you are too blue and light world... I must be an alien. We danced, she and I, we danced. No music playing but the one in our head, the only tune we know. Do you realize... that everyone you know... someday... will die? Ahh, perfection! This is truth, this is right! I laughed and the floor creaked. Time to go sister, I said. Yes, it is time... perhaps like the Phoenix we will rise again from the ashes? I think not though, and it would be such a shame to disturb our well earned nothingness. Maybe memories stop once I die? Heh, probably not. It would be just my life for death to be the same as life.

I chuckled, no hope anyways. No, no hope, my sister muttered. We stood there, holding each other as we pondered death. Is it just the insanity of our minds which push us here? Does the world reject us... or do we reject it? Impossible to know, she said. Someone knocked on the door. I opened it and saw something I didn't think existed. A young man stood there, golden hair, golden eyes, bronze of skin. In his eyes I saw life, and light, and hope. I was like a helpless mouse, paralyzed by the eyes of a hawk. I couldn't move away, or look away. He smiled, a true, real smile. Would you like to know the sun? He asked me. The sun... is it possible for darkness to know light? Or for insanity to regain what it once lost? He laughed, knowing my thoughts. Yes! He said, it is possible for a creature such as you to become new! You will be reborn.

Reborn... Sounds nice.

Dt

A return, and a new revelation

Hello faithful readers, I the Stranger have come back from finals week death (special case of resurrection, for another example please see Glorifindel) but with gusto and a whole slew of new ideas and stories for you all to enjoy (or at least read and consider). I hope to post some of these soon but the ideas I have are just too good to write in a hurried manner so it may be some time before my better ones come forth for your viewing pleasure. However, I would like to whet your appetite with a little something that I've been mulling over.

This is my latest apology for the defense of theism (in general) which is meant to appeal to the logic of scientists and atheists everywhere. I thought of this when in the final few weeks of my apologetics class and upon reading Dawkins The God Delusion had it solidified in my mind as a potential candidate for philosophy (I kid you not, I'm really considering putting a lot of time into this argument, quantifying it logically, making a prose version, researching it, and writing it into a dissertation). I'm so excited about it that I might even make it my thesis for my senior year depending on what people think of its validity and strength. So, without further adieu I'll introduce you to the concept (if you haven't had your ear talked off already).

Scientists in general are in agreement with the theory of the one-bounce big bang as the origination of the universe (I, personally, do not know if this is a proper interpretation of the evidence but it is at the very least possible). Our universe is governed by necessary physical and chemical laws which act and react to their fullest necessary extent. In other words, when sodium and chloride react to make table salt (NaCl) they can't help themselves, they just do. Their electron clouds have just enough space to fill each other out and become stable so they are unalterably attracted to each other. If you pour a bucket full of chloride into a vat of sodium of equal amount, given enough time to fully integrate, every single one of those elements will compound to make molecules without exception. This is the definition of the phrase, "fullest necessary extent" the elements react to each other and bond with each other until they no longer have the capability of bonding any more.

Now, the source from which our universe originated (for it is a logical anathema to think we came from nothing at all) is either another universe like ours (except much more complex and more energetic to an extreme degree) or it is an essential, infinite in matter and energy, coherent, and energetic (that is acting and reacting chemically and physically with itself). If it is another finite universe which gave cause to ours then that universe must also have had a source to its own creation. This therefore makes an infinite chain until we finally break down and admit that there is indeed an essential and infinite source.

Yet, why must the source be infinite in matter and energy, coherent and energetic as well? If this ultimate source was essential (having the property of always existing and of always being in existence) then it would run out of energy if it did not have infinite matter AND energy (energy converts into matter, and matter into energy constantly). Also, we have matter and energy in our universe and the source from which this universe comes must also have had at least as many elements as we see in our universe (otherwise none of them would exist). Coherence is just my fancy way of saying it's not utterly random and that it is located in a single mass (albeit, infinite). If this source did not have the coherence of necessary laws then it would never have created a universe such as ours which does have necessary and coherent laws we would, again, be rather different than we are. I use the word "energetic" to convey that the source is acting, doing things. Basically, a source may be essential and indeed infinite in every conceivable way but made of a noble gas or of some other inert substance which would ultimately cause it to do nothing at all. If this were the case, once more, our own universe would not even exist.

So, it is necessary to accept that this source of which scientists postulate must indeed be infinite in energy and matter, coherent, essential and eternal, and energetic. Alright! Here comes my major premise, hold on to your seats.

If we apply the law of necessary full extent of physical and chemical reaction as dictated by the different laws that must indeed govern this source then that source will always act and react to the fullest extent of its power. What is this sources ability and energy? Infinity! If sodium and chloride reacted to each other in this source they absolutely must continue to do so for eternity and with infinite energy and matter. Why? Because of two reasons, this source has to be infinite in both energy and matter. Everything about it cannot help but be infinite in energy and matter, infinity doesn't just apply to the limitless number of items but to each individual item itself. For example, in this source if we were to examine just one atom of pure energy (which must also exist in this source) we would never be able to quantify just how much energy it really has in there. It would just keep on going, and going, and going for eternity. Each individual "atom" (if there is such a thing in the source) must by extension of the word infinite be unlimited. If we somehow created a giant space window to see the source we would not be able to look at it because of the infinite light coming out which would (by necessity) illuminate our entire universe with unstoppable light. So much for being able to see ever again...

That's just how powerful, and scary, infinity is. Now, if the natural reactions inside this source really did cause it to spontaneously "overflow" and create the universe in which we now live then there are two necessary results. Number one, our universe must be infinite in energy and matter and number two our universe would not be a closed system because the source would still be continuing to send in energy and matter, for eternity. Here is where I call upon the German astronomer Olber. Olber created a paradox which basically states this, if we lived in a universe of infinite age with an infinite amount of stars distributed equally across the sky (as infinity would indeed demand) then we would not have a nighttime! We see the void of space and if nothing else in all of our understandings of thermodynamics and science lead us to believe that we will one day experience entropic death (if something else doesn't happen before then) then the very fact of voids in space should tell us we live in a finite universe. Also, the relative stability of the universe should tell us we live in a closed system. If we didn't live in a closed system our world (and other worlds or stars) would be randomly sucked into alternative universes or have other stars, galaxies, or even universes, randomly pop into our own! In order for any life to have existed on our world from the atheist scientist perspective this is necessary, we must have a closed system, otherwise there would never have been enough stability to foster life.

So the scientist is left with a dilemma because of the source's necessary full application of all of the actions and reactions which occur in it. They must therefore accept one of the two following options, either the source really did cause the universe like they postulate but had one more attribute to its list and that of intelligence or all of their scientific knowledge, all their laws and theorems, everything man currently accepts as chemistry, physics, quantum mechanics, and etc. is absurdly incorrect and must be rejected as untrue.

I have to make a name for this argument (which is an argument from cosmology) so I'd appreciate some suggestions. I know that it assumes that the scientists are right about how the universe came to be but I'm alright with this assumption if it furthers the cause of Christ. Also, if you see any inconsistencies or illogical steps please inform me because everyone I've shared this with has so far been unable to make any objection to the argument once they understand what it's claiming. If you have any questions about it or don't understand it please tell me. Here's a numbered format of the argument which is much shorter but by itself is hard to understand, that's why I wanted you to read the prose version (because I could explain things in simpler terms).

Given: The science of physics as true as well as the theory of the big bang.

1. The universe appeared as a singularity.

2. The source of the universe’s appearance is

a. Essential

b. Eternal

c. Infinite in energy

d. Infinite in matter

e. Coherent

3. If the types of physical laws which govern the un-intelligent source of all things are like the physical laws in our universe then they apply to the fullest necessary extent of power.

4. If they do apply to the fullest necessary extent then all the actions of the source will be infinite in energy, matter, and time.

5. If the source truly did create the universe then the universe would be infinite in energy and matter and would still be gaining energy from the source.

6. The universe is a closed system because of stability

7. The universe is a finite system because infinite energy or infinite matter would necessitate no void of space.

8. There is a void.

9. Therefore, either the source was an intelligent force intentionally limiting the amount of matter and energy He used to create the universe or all of the laws of physics as we understand them are completely false.

Dt

The Great Wager

Strangely enough, the class that I'm not doing so hot in is the one I'm learning quite a bit from. Welcome to another discussion of philosophy the topic this time is Blaise Pascal. Pascal created the calculator, wrote the Pensees (and other books), and pioneered what is known today as computer logic. Without his contributions to the theory of mechanical logic, we would not have computers as we know them today. I'm no computer expert so I won't be treating his mathematics (phew) but his famous argument for the existence of God and the necessity of following Him.

The Great Wager! I really like this proof because it doesn't stop at God's existence but also proves that it is the Christian God and not some other *deity*. While the Pensees themselves are rather disorganized it's pretty easy to explain the logic to the Great Wager, which I'm thankful for. So here we go.

What's with life? What's with nature? What's with man? They are each of them self-contradictory, both affirming and denying God in the same breath with more or less of equal measure. Man is both noble and depraved, having his heart inclined to God but spurning Him with the intellect because nature both acclaims and obscures the very existence of its Creator. Man hopes in God but cannot seem to affirm Him mentally. Pascal calls this evidence a chaotic dilemma and man himself to be a "great chimera" (# 471) of the heart and the head.

Because both man and nature seem to affirm and deny God equally and constantly man himself is left with a terrible dilemma which forces him to choose, this is the Great Wager. If God does not exist and man not follow Him, then what benefit is that to man? He has no hope in life nor in death and lives his life resigned to the inevitability of nothingness. If God does exist and man not follow Him, then he gains but a short time to do his own will while living and loses eternity to the flames and the exquisite pains of separation in Hades. Therefore, if God does indeed exist then the infinite gain of eternal life with an infinite Being is, of course, of incomprehensibly more value than whatever amount of finite years you give in following Him. The possible gain makes the loss as dust on the scales, there is no comparison. Pascal loves this and he belabors his point just a little to draw out this distinction, what are the years you have lost if God does not exist since eternity is nothingness in that case and again what are those same years if God does exist since eternity is ever increasing bliss!

Now, a lot of people would at this point have a few objections. Namely, "I don't seem to have a choice in the matter!" or, "Well, sure fine but that still doesn't mean it's the Christian God specifically." Pascal pretty much rips these to pieces, to my delight. As for choice, why would you choose the desert over the oasis? The frozen tundra to the tropical paradise? As for not the Christian God, Pascal provides a short defense of the faith over others. 1. Christianity addresses both God's perfection and man's falleness and reconciles them together (no other religion offers this). 2. Christianity has fulfilled prophecy and evidence to back up it's claims to your heart. 3. Other religions have essential falsities in them (polytheism with the nature of piety and other monotheisms with fatalism).

To sum up, Pascal's Great Wager is pretty effective if the non-believer has not researched ways to combat it specifically (because it does have some weak points). The only thing I don't like about it is that it will cause a fight or flight response in the hearer, they'll see they don't have a choice and stay to duke it out (and lose) or choose to remain neutral (choose themselves over God). Such is the nature of inescapable dilemmas.

Care for a wager?

Dt

St. Anselm and Circles

Greetings and welcome to my attempt to explain a very complicated man, Anselm. Some of you have already been the butt of my teaching methods and I thank you for your practice and patience. Anselm was a monk who lived in the 1100's and who fashioned the first ontological argument of God, ontology being an argument for existence based on the effects of that existence. An example would be Descartes famous self proclaiming ontology, "I think therefore I am." This kind of logic is usually hard to fathom but it is also brief. I wrote one of my papers for my Philosophy class on him so I hope you'll appreciate what I learned.

Anselm basically made an argument from definition and his definition is, "something greater than which we can conceive of nothing." He breaks his argument into three basic parts, but before I state these it is very important for you to remember that his audience was a primarily Christian one. He didn't make his argument for the existence of God for atheists or agnostics but for believers. What that means is, basically, a Buddhist could take his reasoning and apply it to Buddha quite easily and it would be convincing, to Buddhists but to no one else.

He opens up his dialog stating, "Now we believe you to be something greater than which we can conceive of nothing." If you do not understand this sentence the rest of my explanation will be totally lost on you. The very fact that we can conceive of Him is important as well as that we can conceive of nothing greater. In His essence God is infinite (and beyond) to being the Being which nothing greater can be conceived. Anselm makes this statement then goes on to prove it, in order to use it as evidence later. His proof is simple, we have a concept of this being in our minds, if He existed only in our minds then he would not be the greatest being, if He existed in reality he would not be the greatest being, He must therefore by definition exist in both reality and in our conception in order to be the being which nothing great can be conceived. If He did not, then the definition of, "greater than which we can conceive of nothing" would not be applicable to Him and He would not be this Being.

Anselm then goes on to prove that it is literally impossible to think of this Being as not existing. Now, imagine if you will, two circles. One circle is "things it is possible to imagine as not existing" or more plainly, things that you can think of life without. The other circle is the Being, what Anselm says is that in order for this Being to be what He is there can be no other idea or thing which is greater than He. If you can put the Being circle inside the things that you can think of life without circle then the Being is not actually the Being, he's some other thing. If he really was that which nothing greater can be conceived then we couldn't imagine Him as non-existent. Because then that circle would be greater and the definition would be inapplicable.

The definition of this Being is the cornerstone, strength, and structure of Anselm's argument. Well, what about the non-believers? How can they then consider God as non-existent if it is impossible. Anselm started off by calling them fools (yeah... great way to win an audience) and then proceeds to say how the conception of a man can be different than reality. If they do not rightly understand the definition of this Being then they, of course, do not believe Him to exist because He is not "that which nothing greater can be conceived" in their minds. If He was that Being in their conception then they would believe (which goes back to his opening statement, "if I do not believe I will not understand").

My take on Anselm's ontology. Ok, this guy is way smarter than I am in just about every way you look at it. His goal was to make a self-sufficient argument which was sufficient for Christians and in this he was successful. But his argument would not, by any stretch of the imagination, be able to convince a non-believer of God's existence (or an agnostic that this God is the God of the Bible) but beyond that he never stretched his argument beyond the metaphysical into reality. Don't get me wrong, he didn't want to make his argument evidential beyond the area of the mind and the nature of an infinite spirit but because of his lack of the effects of the metaphysical upon the physical he can't prove anything. He can only say there is strong evidence for the existence of God because we have a conception of this Being. To me this basically means that his argument will continue to be a true inspiration in philosophy and logic but not much of a force in apologetics.

Dt

The Threshold

How fare ye scriptomaniacs? This is (probably) the Stranger. Don't forget to try a Little Calculation below. It's both funny and sad, and sad that its funny. I recently made a few more discoveries in Latin - English similarities which just about made me run around in glee. Hope you also enjoy them.

So, there's this word in Latin, Limen; Liminis neuter noun meaning threshold. It doesn't have any other meanings and only a few uses in Latin. If I were a Roman who just learned English I might use the word threshold like this, "I was standing in the threshold of the gate..." or "We took him up to the threshold..." and even "The threshold was guarded by many men against the enemy." But when we converted this word into our language we pretty much ignored these uses.

The most direct root is found in the word limit which obviously means, "having an end, boundary, or threshold." But there are other more subtle words, subliminal (under the threshold), preliminary (before the threshold), and my personal favorite eliminate (out to the threshold). Now whenever I say the word "eliminate" I know I'm really saying, "take blank out to the threshold" or preliminary "now, before we cross the threshold let's blank." But don't worry, I'm not trying to get some message under your threshold. ^_^

Dt

A Little Calculation

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New(est) Layout

Well, apparently the layout of my blog has once again changed.  Yo people, tis the Stranger, and make yourself welcome.  Do you like the Melding theme?  Frost and Fire meet as one upon the Stranger's wondering eyes...  Yet he seems caught in a heaven sent light amidst the fury of the elements.  I like it very much.  The thing is, as you may well know, I don't do html encoding.  This art was performed by a kitty Kat.  Little did I know, on Sunday morn, that she had completed this work upon my site.  A pleasant surprise.  Let me (and her) know what you think of the new(est) layout.  Perhaps it shall stay?  *shrug* I dunno but for now it is inspiring.

Dt

A Little Stranger

The cry was stifled as soon as it was heard. The boy bit his lip ignoring the rush of pain his nerves were registering. He refused to give his tormentor any pleasure in his pain.

The man shook his head, the memory falling away from him like water from a ducks back. He walked carefully, blue eyes interrogating the ground, searching for signs of disturbance. He was tall with shaggy brown hair cut just above his shoulders and his face would have been handsome but the scowl he wore gave him a desperate look. He bent down and felt the ground for a moment, considering. The ground was cold in the winter afternoon air, but he decided the tracks were fresh rising as he pulled his coat closed around him to keep out the wind. His coat was the closes thing he had to a companion. It was faithful as no one in his life had been.

"What, aren't you gonna cry?" The raven haired boy demanded sounding close to tears himself as he kicked his smaller brother again. "C'mon cry you little brat. CRY!" The brother remained silent, lips refusing to quiver. The raven haired boy screeched as he rushed at him.

The tracks became harder to follow by degrees. Soon they were further apart, further away. You won't lose me so easy the man thought quickening his pace to keep up. He soon broke into a run following furiously, heart racing. The sun was setting and soon the forest would be blanketed in darkness. He would find his prey before then. Yes, this time he would catch them.

The boy stood staring at the setting sun, tears streaming down his face. His raven haired brother had left him alone finally and so he stood, alone with the trees, the sky and the earth. He had never noticed before how comforting silence could be.

I will catch you, the man repeated like a mantra in his mind ignoring the darkening skies above. I will catch you this time. I will. Nothing will stop me. Nothing. "Do you hear me?" He suddenly shouted to the silent forest around him. "NOTHING!" Lightning cracked the sky as if in retort and thunder crashed in reply. Whether it was to him or the lightning he was unsure. Rain began one drop at a time, like a dance just beginning.

The rain fell softly at first then harder and harder. The boy stood letting it cover him completely. In a few moments he was soaked, his tear strained face hidden by a mask of rain. He smiled as he heard his name being called, but he did not reply. "Give me more time" he pleaded silently. "Please give me more time..."

The rain fell in torrents freezing the man. He ignored the warning signs his nerves were sending and bit his lips defiantly against the cold. Evening was coming but he did not care. This time he would keep going. He would follow the tracks to the end even if it killed him. His life had never seemed worth much anyway.

The boy sat in his room staring at the rain through his window. It didn't matter that it was he and not his brother who had been punished. It did not matter that his parents lectured him about wandering the woods alone. It did not matter that his brother gloated at him behind their parents back the whole way home. All that mattered was that he was finally alone. He was finally free, with only himself to be his judge.

The man finally broke through the thicket but in his fervor he lost his footing. He slipped swiftly down the hill, the ice adding speed dangerously. He refused to cry out as he tumbled head over feet down the side of the hill. His mind ceased dissecting his predicament as his body began responding instinctively. After several minutes of struggle he landed in a brown heap at the bottom, breathing hard.

"You think you're so special? You're just a useless pile of muscles, organs and bones. And those you can't even use well..." said the raven haired boy. His brother stared at him, eyes beginning to water. Friends of the raven haired boy surrounded him, watching, waiting, breath held as one. In the silence voices from all over the playground could be heard. Laughter, shrieks of delight, the sound of balls against pavement. The boy blinked.

It had taken him some time but he had found the tracks again. The sun was barely visible above the darkened edge of the earth. The moon had begun to shine overhead, claiming her dominion. Just a little longer, the man begged silently, just a little bit longer. His path had less twists and turns, as if his prey was getting tired. That makes two of us the man thought to himself. But as soon as I catch you I can stop searching. I can stop being afraid of your ever watchful eyes. The man had first become aware of his prey when he heard it taunting him, a disembodied voice replying to his. It was then that he began to notice the tracks following his own. Never one for expected responses, he had turned the tables, hunted had become hunter.

The boy laughed instead. He laughed harder and harder almost going into a manic frenzy. The raven haired boy stared at him in disbelief. His friends mumbled and backed away from the disconcerting laughter. The boy stared at his brother and kept laughing as hard as he could until his brother stalked, or was it fled, away. The boy's laughter became genuine, he had won. He had finally won. He kept laughing as the bell rang, commanding with a tone.

He burst through the pine trees and his triumphant smile faded. He collapsed, landing on his knees as he stared in disbelief. His knife slipped uselessly through his fingers becoming buried in the freezing mud. He had finally followed the tracks all the way. For the first time in his life he saw the home of his prey. A tent sat pitched haphazardly next to a small fire pit. Miscellaneous pots and pans surrounded the fire pit in a random pattern leading to the lake in the middle of the clearing. It was, in fact, the man's own encampment. He stared unable to deny the truth of it with any of his arguments. He had been tracking himself for three years. It was his own voice he had heard, echoing back to him through the trees, off the cliff faces and around the lakes. He was his own hunter, taunting himself, his own worst enemy. The stranger, even to himself.

--Madison Skye--

Dt

PS

How do you like the ghost written bio? It is a metaphor, but rather accurate in many ways. Also there are some hidden messages in the story itself, good luck to you in finding them.

A Debriefing

Hello faithful readers.  This is the Stranger and I wish to announce to you my first ever guest story.  That's right, a close friend of mine (you might say one of my best friends, if "best friend" were a category) is even now in the process of planning and writing a story.  I will wait to inform you as to the nature and content of the story, as well as its meaning.  Until then, in suspense...

Dt

NEXT!?!

Good morn all, this is the Stranger and I am quite aghast.  When I heard that Josh was going to change the name of New Attitude I thought, "Oh no! Well, I will withhold judgement until the new name is announced."  Here it is, NEXT.  Yeah.  Next is next apparently, and it couldn't be much more lame.  I mean, ok I can chill with the message intended by this word but it doesn't have much power in the shadow of ten years of New Attitude.  *SIGH*  This is where someone would say, oh let's just be all meek and follow the leadership (yadayadayada) and I will however this does not change my slight outrage.  We will see what comes next.

Dt

Cold Snap

It was the Dead of Winter and he was whiter than snow. In the lonely mountain ranges which spread across the Eastern world two men slumbered within a warm cabin. The equipment stored close by said they were going to ski cross country, and the thick blanket of snow in the mountain ranges said it would be a good skiing trip. The sky was changing its coat slowly as the rays of the sun reached into the frigid sky. Black heavens receded unto a frosty blue and the harsh klaxon of a cheap alarm rudely roused the travelers from their bunks.

"Remind me again why we set the alarm for 7 in the morning when we have all day to travel to the bottom?" Said a groggy skier. The other man without reply escaped his bunk and warmed up some coffee. Soon thereafter he was joined by his stumbling companion and they shared a simple breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, and coffee. Still mum they put on their suits and sticks and glided out of the cabin into the winter morning.

The trail in the mountains sloped upwards forcing the men to rely on their sticks to propel them to the trail's end. They planned to take this trail until they reached a fairly high altitude and then to simply ski down the mountainside. "Man, I wish my life looked this good all the time." Said the now not groggy man. The view was breathtaking; the sun had just ascended over the peak and was illuminating the forests and valleys in the roots of the mountain. The other man paused to survey the splendor, and then proceeded on without comment.

They eventually began to notice their breathing becoming strained in thin air and decided they had climbed far enough. They hydrated themselves and rested for a few minutes before taking what the talkative one thought of as the big plunge. "Yeeehaaaw!" Said the only man in apparent use of his tongue. The other man was smiling. They raced each other down the snowy scene for a time and then slackened their pace to something a little less hellbent. Still silent he took out his compass and pointed to the east of them, alongside the slope instead of down.

The first time that day the other man replied in actions instead of words and followed him. They travel east until the meet with what skiers call the spines of the mountain. The rocky formations caused by some great upheaval of earth blocked their way east for as far north and south as they could see. Their only option was to travel even farther down the slope. "Figures, we'll probably get lost." Piped up Mr. Talkative. Mr. Silent made a mute sigh.

For the first time that day Mr. Talkative guessed right, they did get lost. The dazzling light began to fade and the snow blurred the differences between rock and tree. In the failing sun they at last spotted a shallow cave in the side of the spine. Fortunately they had some trail mix left to eat and enough water to survive for another day. But the night did not pass with much rest for either of them, for the air was continuously pierced by the cry of the wolves and the roar of bears. They both greatly feared they were squatting in the den of some beast and would soon enjoy claws and teeth as their reward.

Before light had fully taken hold they left the cave. The slope before them was barely discernible and they traveled cautiously towards the bottom. They had almost passed a gap in the spine when Mr. Silent spotted it and made towards it without warning. "Hey, wait! What?" Cried out Mr. Talkative, soon followed by a soft "Ooooh." They headed east desperate to reach the town where their all terrain vehicles were parked with supplies. In the night the sky had sent down a short rain which made the trek more slippery and as a result Mr. Talkative was complaining. "Ahhh, gosh. It had to be freezing rain. The snow was perfect only yesterday and..." Mr. Silent didn't hear any other words and turned his head to see Mr. Talkative sliding backwards down the mountain.

His panicked yells only increased when he lost his sticks and all the while Mr. Silent sped after him. Farther and faster he hurled down the slope but not as quickly as Mr. Silent. Soon enough they were side by side, one in control and one out of it, and Mr. Silent grabbed the arm of Mr. Talkative. They began to slow down, bit by bit, as Mr. Silent shed momentum with well placed movements. Yet he saw the cliff side too late. Suddenly Mr. Talkative was hanging off the edge of the cliff and Mr. Silent somehow had managed to stay on the slope while keeping his companion's arm in a firm hold.

"Richard! Oh Lord, oh Lord!" Stammered Mr. Talkative gripped by fear. "Calm down Mark, you're doing nobody a favor by panicking." Replied Richard with the strain obvious in his voice. "I, I've been headstrong Richard. I've stopped being an example of love and light, and I've allowed my pride to blind me. Oh God, forgive me for wasting so many years and backsliding faster than my ride down this mountain!" "Mark, what are you doing?!"

The air was fast, sliding past him with its frigid knives. The side of the spine had been lifted quite high off the mountain floor and the landscape flashed before Mark's eyes just as fast as his life. Soon he began to hear a high and sweet sound as he fell faster and faster. He looked up to see Richard looking down at him, just a small figure now, and he felt like he was flying instead of falling. In the death of winter he was whiter than the snows of his grave.

Dt

Ps.  This story is a little rough around the edges, so I'm sure you will all have comments about how I can improve it.  But I still like it.

A Somewhat Haunting Scene

Allow me to spin to you the tale of an actual current event. My co worker's (codenamed Sali) mother passed beyond the rain a few days ago. Sali is a bright and cheerful young lady with an Arabic and eastern orthodox lineage. From her character and life I have seen much fruit and have little doubt as to her salvation. She has often told me how her mom has been an inspiration in her life and based on what I've seen in her I wouldn't be surprised to find the Mrs. in heaven one day. I never met Sali's mother but by all accounts she was a beautiful person, how similar her wake was to this.

There was still large amounts of snow on the ground from the big storm only two days prior to the wake. It took me about a quarter of an hour to dig out my car and another to arrive at my destination. Rose Hill Cemetery is not a quiet and secluded place, it is not nestled behind green hills beside a forest, and it is not tiny or quaint. In fact it is just off of Main street, immediately after the Mall, and before another large shopping complex. Despite this odd geographical placement the church by the Cemetery was all the things a grave-side church should be, simple, ambiguous, and beautiful.

I noticed it didn't have any icons or statues right off the bat, it was white on the outside and a softer dim off-white inside. People in dark colors were spread out in clumps of two or three in the receiving area. They were talking in low voices some in English, but most in Arabic or some other foreign language. Many were richly dressed wearing Mink or expensive Italian suits, some were obviously college students with their cargoes or jeans, but everyone was mindful of their current purpose. Death, it seemed, had gathered this conglomerate of tongues in one place.

I eased past the early wave of mourners and signed in, leaving my name and address, and entered into the sanctuary. It was of moderate size following the form of a catholic church (with the nave and focal) minus the statues, pillars, and icons. There were dark wood pews to sit on and I noticed a few friends of mine from work closer to the front where Sali and her family were standing, greeting, crying, and huddling together for protection from some unseen cold.

In the sanctuary guests and families were seated sporadically some were whispering to each other but most were in silent contemplation. The casket was open revealing a middle aged red headed woman with a kind face, an old style eastern cross, a picture of the same woman when she was younger, and a white cloth settled around her. A stool was placed in front of the coffin for those who practiced by any form of the Catholic faith, twenty flower baskets were spread out to the right and left, and a small piano was nestled in the corner. The ceiling, mostly grey, turned white then a majestic looking indigo (representing the Holy See) which melded into a stained glass window of what was probably paradise.

A large family was greeting Sali and her family, they looked to be fast friends. For they kissed each other on the cheeks three times and hugged each other, right before dissolving into tears and sobs as they spoke something in incoherent Arabic. Their meeting was passionate, but brief and they soon had moved on. Round the bend another family came, and another, some with little children, others slowly with canes, and still more in the spring of life. I watched as a family member to Sali brought her new born baby boy for them to hold. Mourning gave way to smiles of delight as they passed the little one to and fro. His giggles and cries of delight melted so many more hearts and they cried more, this time for the joy of life.

Soon enough I went forward with my friend and coworker to offer our condolences, there wasn't much to say so I hugged her and went to pay my respects to her mother. All I could think of as I stood there was this woman's legacy, all of the people in that room may not have cared for her much in life but they were there for her death. Many were suffering the signs of many tears, others of boredom, but they had come to show to Sali and their family that her life was not in vain that she had gained friends and left a big pattern in the fabric of society which would continue to affect it for generations. As I commented to someone while standing in line at the local Barns and Noble (don't ask how we got on the topic) death may be a part of life but so many forget that life is a part of death.

Here's to you, mother to Sali and dear to the hearts of many, I at least am convinced of your life after death. See you there.

Dt

Sana

Good news everyone, this semester I enjoyed my introduction into Latin. I knew English was steeped in the language of Rome but I never realized just how many words we outright steal from them. For example, as the title suggests, sana. Sana means safe or sound (sound as in whole, uncorrupted, etc.) which English uses in the word sane (within one's right mind) so that if we say, "I am a sane man." We really mean, "I am a sound man (or a safe man)." Inversely insanity (non sana) would be likened unto, "I am not a sound man (not a whole, complete, or safe man)."

I'll give a fairly interesting example (which has also changed the way I look at English). After many years of anxious toil and frustration I have solved the mystery between the words dexterity and sinister. In Latin these two words are often found close to each other even though we would hardly think to put them in the same sentence in English. Dextra means right (often combined with hand, road, foot, etc. right as in the direction not the correction) sinister (same spelling!) means left. This made me really think about the history of English and the culture surrounding it. Back way back in time when English was still being formed these words were used and had other connotation besides right and left (it wasn't all black and white). Because most people were right handed they probably connected being nimble with your hands with being right handed. Ergo, dexterous. Left handedness was more rare and you typically do not assume someone to be left handed, and therefore are surprised when they give you a left hook instead of a right cross. This surprise put a pallor of disrespect upon the word "left" and we began to associate sinister with evil tendencies.

Amazing! There are hundreds of examples in Latin of words with the same or a similar meaning to the one English now gives it or of words with the same or similar spelling but completely different meanings! The etymologist in me shrieks with pleasure at the unravelling of often pondered questions like, "Why do we spell words the way we do?" or "How did it come to be that this words means this when it seems to indicate something else?" As my Latin tutor would say, I am a Latin nerd. Well, I proudly hike up my over sized pants and tighten my suspenders because I indeed am a Latin nerd and intend to stay so.

Dt

God make you Mighty

How are you Gentlemen? Perhaps merry? Perhaps joyful? Mayhaps cheery? At times peaceful? Tis Christmas day, for some this day is full of light and life, for others it is lonely and dark, and for yet more just a reason to party and get completely innebriated. I find it sad when I see many who I know and care for spend a Christmas poorly either in themselves or in their actions and if I had a prayer granted unto me it would be that all I love (the love which Christ gave to me) would pass this Holyday with joy and peace. Each of them knowing the truth of salvation, all of them sharing in the race that I run, and every one God blessed and blessing others. This is the Stranger's cry, all of you who read here, God make you mighty, God make you well, God make you holy, and God make you rebel. Rebel from conforming to the darkness in this world, and make you an heir with Christ himself for eternity.

Mighty Christ, merry Christmas.

Dt

Honor Among Thieves

Some say there are only two absolutes in this world, death and taxes. This is fairly same as saying there is only one absolute of many eventualities, sin and the consequences thereof. Now, you might be saying to yourself just now, taxes? Sin? Where's bad? Well, wonder no more my fine friend. I, the Stranger, shall make apparent to you the connections using economic principles combined with biblical truth.

When sin entered into the world it carried with it certain partners in crime. Death, first among them, followed directly on sin's heels with it's big, scary scythe. Also with it came a world of scarcity and hardship. This scarcity was coupled with something we humans had even before the fall, which was infinite desire. This is how we now understand economics as the decisions made by individuals in a world of scarce resources and infinite desires.

If there were no scarcity there would be no need for economics for all would have just what they wanted. This is the proposition upon which my reasoning shall rest, before the fall of man there was no lack of anything for man and therefore little or no reason for an economy. Thereby economics, while not evil or sinful, is a product of a sinful world.

Economics as an idea has no sin within it. It simply states a truth, people act the way they do because they want something in a world with a limited number of things. People can use either good or bad economics for evil purposes to do things which would normally be illegal. For instance, some taxes do what is called redistribution. That is, take from one group of people and give to another group. It could be the group receiving the money is in legitimate crises and without the money provided by the tax would either disburse or suffer. Yet, as Bastiat once said, what special immunity does the government have which protect them from prosecution of simple burglary? If a man were to go to the houses of the rich, plunder them for their jewels and money, and spread the resources among the poor and needy then he would still be prosecuted for committing an illegal act.

Some would argue that this is indeed not illegal yet perhaps it is merely convenient to do so when you appear to be in the altruistic position and you are not harmed by the transaction. It seems a bit funny that many of the people who argue this way are by no means rich or simply have constituents who are not rich. I digress, back to the point. An office of government which has legitimate use and purpose in a society of rarity and sin is by no means immune from corruption. Many of them cause actions like unto the example previously given.

It is in this way that taxes, which have many useful purposes, can be twisted to the purpose of those who claim to protect the interests of the people yet are in actuality merely using popular ideas to promote their own position. For sin is common to men and with sin come greed, pride, and deceit. As in every field of this world full of conflict politics and taxes is filled with goodness and evil alike. And just as in every situation when power and influence are injected in the people within the situation tend to show their pride by craving more and abusing what they have been given. As a famous saying describes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

The question which remains is, is there not a better way in which to have a government of accountability and of effectiveness within the society by which it stands?

Dt

Prelude

Salud fellow cyber surfers!  Tis I, the Stranger, who bids thee welcome here.  This is a prelude and nothing more, but a messenger for things to come.  Soon I shall be on winter break and I aim to do some serious logging.  I have thought and experienced much this past semester, much which needs telling.  Among these experiences I have found I lack the formal skills I once had, my papers this semester were good but more difficult to write than usual.  To remedy this I will post more commentaries than stories (or at least, that's the plan).  If the mood for a story strikes I will simply store it and use it later during the school year so as to keep on my formal writing plan.  Some may be rejoicing at my return from the lucid eccentricities of my mind and into more logical and real things.  Although I would contest my stories to be just as real in their own way as my commentaries are, but that is another matter.

To get back to the point, I will be posting again soon and you may expect it to be as strange and out of the ordinary as it tends to be just without the scintillating imagery.  Until then,

Dt

BLOOD

Alright! Finally I, the Stranger, present to you the conclusion to the Marie experiment. I hope to hear from you, Marie, and from you others who have held your comments until now. I eagerly await them, please enjoy the end of From Everlasting to Everlasting.

Sparks and lightning filled the nebulous void of earth that was, specters and shades swirled through the high and keening winds, whilst the spheres vied in battle. Superiority, or the position of highest influence was the goal of each and every one. Some claimed to be better in their beings, some in their weaponry, and still others by their ideals. Yet each sphere was filled with beings hell-bent on the fulfillment of their own goals no matter the cost.

The space of the land of none was charged in hostile energy. Chaotic energies were siphoned and stored for fiendish uses while all plotted their way to become the Princeps, the one whose influence caused all others to servitude. The word in its essence meant the beginning and those who chose it full well knew what title they really were taking.

Electric currents from the skies were being allured as if by siren's song to differing spheres, wafting downwards to earth like a lazy serpent. The hideous chimera's and unspeakable mutants of the earth that was were being tamed and trained for the kill, and every being whether visible or not eagerly awaited for the destruction to come. Every being, including Peter and those with him.

More had joined their causes to his and the size of their combined influence seemed as a mountain. A mountain perhaps, yet a mountain in full battle readiness. Sections of the sphere were filled with rods of light, others with wyverns or other flying beasts, and yet more with various elemental powers or mechanized structures. Each and all of them deadly, every one of them ready. The imPure there had constructed all of them from the substance of chaos in the void, all of the death dealing devices were the stuff of dreams and imagination. Just as they had thought it, then it was.

The imPure in the sphere where Peter was sat at council to discuss the hardest portion of their battle plan. "We are agreed then, upon the giving of surrender that we accept it only if they fight with us." Said Peter. Those there all nodded sagely. "I propose that in order to greatly increase our degree of success we must have a command center and with it a general." The wyvern master said and all agreed to this as well, it could not but make sense. Yet all the common sense and logic in the world did not triumph over the problem which caused them and every other war machine sphere to pop like an overfilled balloon. None would agree to any but themselves.

Havoc ensued. Each one left with their means of destruction and left Peter in his sphere alone once more. Peter had not created any weapon because his role had been to maintain the unity of the sphere and to strengthen the shield of its influence. He was reasonably confident he could defend himself adequately from any weapon but to make war now was impossible for him. So he watched as the void of the earth, already full of pandemonium, became a land fit only for devils.

All the others wasted no time in claiming the title of Princeps and launching what attack they could against all others. Lightning seared and cut through many spheres, the beasts mauled and rampaged across the void, fire, swords, mortars, and things of an unspeakable nature decimated the remaining imPure. Few indeed survived, when the abominations had all lost the wills of their masters, the elements their stock, and they had no more weapons to command was the time when the blood ceased to flow.

Spheres with broken husks were slowly fading and all the survivors came to meet. Peter was among them including some he had known but most of them he had only spoken to once or twice before. In total 325 had survived the carnage in one way or another. "Shall we agree to speak?" Peter asked them, and they all agreed. "In this manner is it not clear to all that none shall be the Princeps? Truly, it is impossible to conceive of the way. We live in this null zone, this place of suffering and torment. Yet once we lived in the Holy City, among the Pure. If only there were some one, some mediator to place one hand upon me and one upon..." Peter's speech could not continue when he tried to say that name. Yet all there saw his words to be true.

"We cannot change and we are doomed to struggle for eternity against each other. For though we desire a better way our selfishness will push us to malice. What we need more than anything else is for our very selves to change." Articulated Peter. One by one, all those still living voiced their consent. The shriek of the air, the lightning in the skies, and the turbulence in the foundations of the earth stilled. The shadows fled and every sphere suddenly popped. A door appeared in the air and all around it the ground was solid allowing the imPure to stand.

The door itself was for them to look upon but it obviously had a use. So Peter went forth from them and grasped the knob. It was locked. He tried knocking but received a fist full of splinters as a reward. He had not noticed there was an iron knocker so he lifted it from the door frame and pounded powerfully on the door. At each peal of the iron on the plate beneath it the door shuddered and their expectations were filled with some secret knowledge they could not identify. The imPure waited and Peter bled.

After a time or an eternity the sound of agony could be discerned. The closer it sounded the more they retreated from the door and when it seemed to come from their very throats the door swung gently open. They all witnessed the history and life of a single man through the portal. It sped past them in a coherent but swift stream. Perfection, miracles, kindness, torment, and death. The life and death of a man was witnessed by them as well as something still better.

Those who killed the man, for it was the imPure themselves, had buried him and walked off to rejoice together. Yet the scene did not fade, a day passed and a night, again it passed, and then it seemed as if they had caught up with time and were watching it now in the present. Two beings, who looked like what the imPure had once been, appeared and dug out the dirt covering the man. He then stood up from the grave and came towards the door and walked through it. From then on not all followed, but all knew that from everlasting to everlasting YHWH is God.

Dt