January 2003

4:24 p.m.

And the daily Doofus Award goes to: me. I locked myself out of the house and had to wait an hour for someone to get home.

And they tell me I'm old enough to vote.

8:27 p.m.

Blogging is such a great medium.

It's egalitarian; anyone with Internet access and literacy has the makings of a blog. All you have to do is be someone, and your blog will write itself; blogs take advantage of the fact that people are inherently interesting. (And even if people in general aren't interesting to you, you're bound to find someone online who's creative or weird or similar or nearby enough to catch your interest.)

Blogging offers us the pleasures of reading and being read in an age when nobody writes letters anymore. Blogs are an open letter to everyone we know–they are climbing to the top of one's own mountain to say, I exist! And you get to hear back from other folks on top of their own mountains.

I exist. And so do you.

Let's live.

4:47 p.m.

Loyal readers, your author is bored. Bored out of his tiny skull. Bored as a cow.

I'm starting to be well enough to be frustrated by inactivity, but not yet well enough to get out of the house and do something to relieve that frustration. I'd be reading if my attention span wasn't shot.

Sigh.

5:36 p.m.

Well, I found something to do today, anyway. A friend and I who differ politically have been exchanging E-mails.

Whoo!

I think the last one singed off my eyebrows.

Not really, but it may be true that the only thing humans have in common, and thus can discuss peaceably, is the weather.

Speaking of which, can you believe how warm it's been out lately?

See, 'cause the weather—heh, heh.

Never mind.

12:09 p.m.

A novice asked a master, "How am I to resist temptation? My strongest efforts of willpower are not enough."

The master asked the novice, "How am I to put out that fire? All the gasoline I own is not enough."

Christian koans.

8:12 p.m.

If I could make an addition to the English language, I would introduce the simile "like/as a cow." This would be used to indicate a great but unspecified magnitude, and would take the place of more vulgar words currently used to the same effect.

Examples:
"Man, I am gaining weight like a cow!"
"That guy's driving as fast as a cow!"
"It's as hot as a cow out today!"
(advanced) "The owner's asking a cow-and-a-half for this boat!"

I hope you will join with me in adopting this elegant supplement to our mother tongue. If you do, I'll be as pleased as a cow.

3:54 p.m.

Peep Research, expanding the borders of Peep awareness.

8:36 p.m.

Watched the State of the Union and the Democratic response. Was mildly encouraged—the people in charge of our government seem to genuinely care about our nation, though they disagree on methods for aiding it.

Thought the President was brave and right in calling for AIDS relief in Africa, and hydrogen engine research. Am skeptical about the need for dividend tax relief, though. Maybe Bush's economists know a lot more than I do, but giving back money to the very, very richest seems unjust and unhelpful.

I didn't think the President really made his case for war with Iraq. The burden of proof lies on Hussein, he says; I think it lies on us to show this war is a just one. I am now, however, more willing to believe the President has a case for war, which he cannot yet share with us.

I'd like to think President Bush is a good man, and tonight didn't give me reason to think otherwise.

God bless this flawed and great nation of ours.

3:36 p.m.

I'm writing this from Linux, that operating system flagship of the free software movement. As a person who's become increasingly suspicious of big corporations, I'm all for its eventual success over Windows (says the guy who paid $100 for XP and who has contributed nothing to any open-source project). It has a much steeper learning curve than Windows, but in exchange it's much more powerful (maybe too powerful for the likes of me. What am I supposed to do with a Perl compiler?). In a few minutes I was able to create shell scripts for uploading this blog, something that can't be done automatically in Windows, and when done manually, requires lots of clicking. If it weren't for lack of game support, I would make a permanent switch.

So here's a toast to those twin luminaries, freedom (as in speech) and freedom (as in, er, root beer).

9:55 p.m.

Came up with a name for the 'blog. It seems appropriate, seeing how blogging is such an ephemeral medium. These entries will probably be read the same day they're written, then be forgotten. And if you turn off your computer they will vanish entirely.

We read [and write] to know we're not alone.

I can hear you. Can you hear me?

10:11 p.m.

English Language Usage Highlight of the Day: Today I heard someone refer to his younger self as a "wily turkey." Rock on!

12:25 p.m.

Made it to church this morning. Woohoo!

12:47 p.m.

The sermon in church today was about abortion.

Last Sunday was National Sanctity of Human Life Day. Last Wednesday was the 30th anniversary of the Supreme Court's decision in Roe v. Wade.

What a confused and conflicted country we live in.

They say that 40 million children have been aborted since 1973. Forty million. Six and a half Holocausts.

Surely all that blood must cry out to God.

Kyrie, eleison.

3:05 p.m.

As I was thinking about what I said yesterday, about God seeming to be asleep, a voice in the back of my head said, "Don't talk badly about those who aren't there to defend themselves."

Because for all intents and purposes, God can't defend Himself. He remains stubbornly silent, no matter what we say.

And I thought: what if God really were mute? What if He were blind, deaf and crippled? What if He could not raise a finger to save a single one of his believers?

He would still be worthy.

3:57 p.m.

Added time stamps. Maybe individual entries will sound less disjointed, not being all lumped together. Yes, and maybe pigs will fly.

I have to be honest, I'm on the brink of despair.

There just doesn't seem to be any purpose to life; God seems to be absent or asleep.

And worst of all is the nothing that fills my days. Endless, empty hours. Have I died and gone to purgatory or hell, and God just hasn't told me?

Life is hard. I sincerely admire those of you who can handle it.

[a few hours later]

I'm better now.

Just gotta keep on walking.

I don't always thank You for the rough days
and the hard times in my life, even though I should.

Sally and Johnny—black people love them.

So I go to ride my bike this afternoon, and it's broken!

Broken!

(arms outstretched to the heavens)
Will suffering never cease?
(sob)

Not really. But it definitely ranks up there as an inconvenience.

So, how was your day?

Listening to No Time's "Whole 3rd World." Entertaining, but painfully arrogant.

Thinking about what it means to be an American.

So rich. So privileged.

If it's true that "many who are first will be last" (Matt 19.30), some of us (e.g. yours truly) may find ourselves surprised to be waiting tables in heaven.

Went to my vocational rehab appointment today. It wasn't what I expected— they asked a lot of questions about family finances. What I was expecting was maybe a program to hook me up with an employer who, I don't know, wants to hire disabled people for tax credits. What they seem to be, from talking to them, is a service for helping me come up with a back-to-work plan. Which I can do perfectly well on my own. For free. Because they want to charge me money for their services.

Sigh.

I don't know what to do now. This rehab program was my what to do now.

Come soon, lord Jesus.

(Isn't that the height of wishful thinking—hoping for the world to end and make the problem go away. This situation just needs some patience is all.)

Self?

Yes?

Hang in there, self.

All right. Good night, self.

Good night.

Got my dander raised by something my friend Jody just blogged, with which I, respectfully, disagree.

I'll take it piece-by-piece:

The two most famous Christian allegories I'm aware of are The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and the Chronicles of Narnia heptogy (? - 7 parts). Both series are supposed to be great retellings of the life and death of the Christ, how it affects our salvation, and they are also supposed to be inspirational.

Uh, septet, I think. Could be wrong. First, I don't think The Lord of the Rings is really meant to be a Christian allegory. While, if you read The Silmarillion you'll see that Tolkien's universe sprang from a Christian worldview (or at least theistic); and while Rings contains some Christian themes: Gandalf's self-sacrifice and rebirth, salvation resting on an "unimportant" person; the fact is Tolkien hated allegory (including Narnia) and said as much. He was interested in making myth.

I've read the Chronicles, and they're pretty poor science fiction, and vague semblances in regard to Christianity at best.

Science fiction? Anyway, the truth of C.S. Lewis' allegory might be a matter for personal judgment. For my part, at least, Narnia is where I first learned that God is beautiful, long before I became a Christian. The Last Battle colors my understanding of heaven to this day.

As far as TLotR is concerned, there's a green door at the very beginning of The Hobbit with a brass knob in the middle of the door. Something about elves and trolls and stuff, and not very interesting.

Hey! You haven't read them, then? Give them a try before you knock them; you might find they're actually very good books if you make the effort.

What's worst of all is that the people whom I've encountered who are the biggest fans of the Lord of the Rings are either unrepentant pagans, humanists, or people who have turned their back on a God that they know to be the true and living God.

I wonder if I would count as one having "turned [his] back" on God. You have me on this point, though; Rings is the centerpiece of the entire fantasy, DnD, pagan subculture. I would venture that people of a certain disposition—imaginative, escapist, non-Christian— are attracted to the book because it is one of the best things they know. In other words, I think it is the book's goodness, not its corruption, that make it appealing to so many non-Christians.

That causes me considerable concern. How much harm have Lewis and Tolkien done by giving people a false sense of knowing God, or even a false knowledge of God?

I'm not quite sure what you mean here. I'm interpreting what you said to mean: Lewis and Tolkien open a window onto the numinous through myth, without giving the real, beautiful and holy Christ his credit; this encourages nonbelievers to feel they've found "God" or a higher beauty, while keeping them from knowing the true source of that beauty.

I'm inclined to disagree; I think just the opposite can be true, that the impressions of wonder and beauty created by fantasy (especially that of Lewis and Tolkien, coming as they do from a Christian men) can, when properly interpreted, be an essential stepping-stone to a realization of God's realness and majesty, and to a relationship with Christ.

Those are just my thoughts. I'm interested to hear what you think.

Visited Carlsbad Caverns today.

The world is a much bigger place than I realize.

And for some reason, the underground lunchroom there always reminds me of some subterranean bus terminal.

"Now arriving from Mammoth Cave..."

Listed my blog on GeoURL. You should, too.

West of House

You are standing in an open field west of a white house, with a boarded front door.
There is a small mailbox here.

>

I've always had a soft spot for the old Infocom text adventures, though I was never any good at them (I've yet to complete one without resorting to the hints). It wasn't the puzzles that attracted me, though; it was the writing. Trinity is to this day one of the most beautiful and evocative things I can remember reading. If I went back to it today, I'm sure I would find the prose lacking in spots, but that wouldn't matter; the game's real value lay in its immersion, the sense that you were there in a living world where every action was portentous.

Did you know text adventures are alive and thriving on the Internet? They're called "interactive fiction" now, in light of the vastly expanded scope of their narratives, and people have been using them to tell original, humorous and deeply moving stories. Here are some links. I highly recommend "Photopia" if you have time.

Came across my grandma's recipe for "asado" (a Mexican dish and a favorite of mine, made of roasted pork in red chile sauce). I recorded it in an effort to preserve a little of my family's culture and heritage.

1. Take cubed pork and heat in saucepan (3/4 high) until browned a little, crisp. (Use specially cut asado meat if possible, otherwise cube pork chop.)

2. Add spoonful of oil; season with garlic (spoonful) and salt. Add a palmful of oregano.

3. Water must be boiled off until meat is cooked and dry before proceeding. After dry, add enough flour to coat w/o staying visible. Then add chile sauce (made of roasted, peeled and blended chiles) and simmer until service.

The Filthy Critic: entertaining movie reviews (warning: foul language).

Some glad morning when this life is o'er,
I'll fly away;
To a home on God's celestial shore,
I'll fly away.

I'll fly away, O glory,
I'll fly away;
When I die, hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.

Just a few more weary days and then,
I'll fly away;
To a land where joys shall never end,
I'll fly away.

I'll fly away, O glory,
I'll fly away;
When I die, hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.

Having a bad day.

And tonight I came across an old letter I'd written. The author seemed like a pretty nice guy; I wonder where he went. Now I feel like a shadow of my former self.

Sigh. Well, that's life, as they say.

I just wrote a letter to the intended recipient of the first, undelivered letter. Like putting a note in a bottle out to sea.

We read [and write] to know we're not alone.

Funny Paper: they read the comics so you don't have to.

Saw my psychiatrist today. He's a good guy.

Drug rundown:

Fluoxetine (generic form of Prozac)
antidepressant
2 capsules @ 40 mg
ivory, with orange-brown markings

Zyprexa
antipsychotic
1 tablet @ 15 mg (soon to become 20 mg)
baby blue

Synthroid
synthetic thyroid hormone (for energy)
1 pill @ 25 mcg
peach

Been thinking some more about mediocrity. I know enough about the English language to appreciate those who have mastery of it, but I myself do not have that mastery. I am a chicken in a world of eagles.

Bagawk!

I feel like writing something:

The morning sky arched back to meet the sun, and Mr. Little came out of his cozy house. He'd just finished a breakfast of egg and toast and was feeling rather adventurous, which was fortunate for all around him boiled a great battle between men with swords and bows. This wasn't his garden; he'd made a wrong turn at the living room and ended up in the Middle Ages instead! He realized his mistake, ducking an errant arrow, and backed into the house again. "Jane!" he called to his daughter. "How many times must I tell you not to leave your Pocket Universes lying around!" Jane couldn't hear her father, for she was at this moment attending a cotillion in the "Li'l Belle" Antebellum South her parents had gotten her for Christmas.

That's all.

This Modern World, more biting political commentary.

Spent most of the day asleep. There just doesn't seem to be much reason to be awake right now.

Get Your War On, biting political commentary (warning: foul language).

Spent the weekend in Las Cruces, where I helped my good friend John move into new apartments. A good time was had by all.

Culinary highlight: beef noodle stir-fry with non-alcoholic beer.

Been thinking about the axioms on which my life is built. One which has been evident lately is: you will always be taken care of. It's not true, but thanks to loving parents and family, a wealthy nationality (American) and (most significantly) a lazy and selfish character, I have learned to behave as if there will always be somebody to pay for me.

Quite a shock waits for me when I enter the real world. Whenever that is.

Another (the biggie) is: Jesus of Nazareth led a perfect life. He is trustworthy. Almost my entire worldview hangs on those statements: my belief in the Bible's veracity (the people Jesus trusted being trustworthy), my moral priorities (not that I'm not still a hypocrite), my understanding of the afterlife.

It's far from being self-evidently true for most people, but all my power as a judge of character tells me: Jesus is good; Jesus is solid.

Thing is, I'm so heavily invested in Christianity that I'm cynical of my prospects of ever honestly questioning and evaluating this axiom.

I'd be interested in hearing from you. Is there anyone you consider to have lived the perfect life? Why? What does that mean for your life? On what assumptions do you build your life?

A comic I enjoy: FoxTrot.

Thought you might like to know a little about your loyal author, loyal readers:

My name is Chad Hernandez, and I'm a 20-year-old college dropout. I'm a Christian, and a poor one at that.

I'm currently homebound with a nasty case of depression, so if you're struggling with a mental illness, take some weak comfort in the fact you're not alone.

This blog is my way of making contact with the outside world (hello, world!) and recording a bit of myself for posterity. Not that I'm more interesting than any one of you; I just have this nasty tendency to be more concerned about myself than others. Maybe you can sympathize.

Is anybody out there? Is anybody listening?

Actually, I already know plenty about myself; I'd like to know a little about you, loyal readers. Who are you? What are you doing with your life? What's important to you?

Give me a shout out at . If you have a blog, tell me, and I'll be sure to read it. Maybe we can link to each other.

That's all for now. Visit blo.gs and Weblogs.com for a million other weblogs.

Greetings, loyal readers. Take this moment to unburden yourself of the day's stresses. Have a seat. Comfortable? Good.

How was traffic?

Good, good. Hot chocolate?

You're welcome. Now—and only now—that you're relaxed, pull your chair up to the computer screen and partake of today's weblog entry:

...

Well, actually, there isn't one. I was feeling uninspired today. So, instead here's today's introduction, translated to Japanese and back by Babelfish:

Greeting namely loyalty reader. Pressure of unburden day take into this time. Have the seat. The comfort? it is good. How, traffic oh high. is good, it is good. The cocoa? you are welcomed. Now... at present... that you loosen, pull your chair to the computer screen, and is a character of entry item of the present weblog,:

Be sure to join me tomorrow, namely loyalty reader, for another quirky, bold and charming foray into the psyche, the heart and this crazy thing we call "life."

Good night!

Went for a jog today, for the first time in a while. It was good—I'd missed the 'HELP ME HELP ME I'M DYING' messages your body sends you during a good run.

Out on these New Mexico plains you can see for a million lives...

I consider myself fortunate to live in such a beautiful state. We have the biggest sky of anywhere you've ever seen. I'd post pictures to prove my point, but most beauty is too shy to show up on film.

Hmmm... according to the E-mails I received today, the real business of living is to "stay thin with HGH" and "add inches per week." Thank you for your input, loyal readers.

Oh, and here's a webcomic you might enjoy: Checkerboard Nightmare.

Today I applied for Social Security Disability (well, technically, Supplemental Security Income, but who's counting). It was humbling, and therefore good for me.

Thinking about Sept. 11.

Listening to Annie Lin's "Cut Out the Skyline," about the day and the television coverage that burned it into our minds.

I've just realized something: I am utterly mediocre. It is beyond my power entirely to bring joy into anybody's life. I am a shade, a half-person with no purpose greater than to consume, to secure a source of amusement or diversion for the next few moments.

Diversion from what?

From the real business of living.

I wish I knew what that was. E-mail me if you know, and I'll be sure to pass it on.

Inaugural entry.

Here begins the shrill piping of one mouse determined to make himself heard in a world indifferent to his existence. I don't really know what my expectations for this blog are. What I don't expect are a lot of readers. That's fine, though; there's value in just hearing yourself talk. In fact, it can be downright intoxicating. Guess that's why the blogging community is comparable to a room full of hundreds blathering endlessly at the top of their voices, with no more than three or four listening at any one time.

So the other day I find out that a good friend, someone I considered a mentor, is no longer a Christian. Bad news. What's to become of us weak when even the strongest fall? Sometimes I wonder if we Christians really possess something special.

This felt appropriate for my current mood:
Man Who Thought He'd Lost All Hope Loses Last Additional Bit Of Hope He Didn't Even Know He Still Had