So this is the new year..

I was beginning to convince myself never to set foot in this dreadful place again, but the creator in me wouldn't allow it. These memoirs are filled with past failings and the blunders of an ill-controlled pen, and there's something about the promise of a new year that brings a desire for a clean slate, as it were. Ironically, the motivation that drives me to fill this page is the simple push to get one more blog in before the complete end of the year. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Christmas is all but a distant memory, but it would be inconsiderate of me not to fill you in on the details. Although the sentiments of remembering the birth of a Savior paint beautiful pictures, I'm afraid there are far too many of us who view Christmas as a short diversion before denial sets in because you have to face life, one more year, once again. Although I participated in more Christmas oriented activities than usual, something still felt quite lacking in the way of holiday spirit. I decorated cookies, went Christmas caroling, bought a few gifts, and went through any other usual motions. Despite all of the commercialism, I think there's at least a glimmer of hope to be found in the usually empty secular rendition of Christmas: The concept of families putting aside their differences to all come together for a simple holiday. Our family doesn't have such monumental differences, but the fact that my older sister wasn't with us for Christmas for the first time completely changed the dynamic, and made our hearts just a little emptier.

I probably shouldn't waste too much time musing, but after all, this is a return to former glory. Our family does most of the Christmas festivities Christmas Eve, so by the time Christmas actually comes around, usually the only thing we have left to do is eat. And eat we do, for this year we went over to my aunt and uncle's house to partake in a glorious feast prepared by mastermind cooks. I am absolutely positive that my stomach has been subject to entirely too much good food, and therefore, suffering. I guess all good things must come to a [merciful] end, but only to make way for something entirely new.

Which brings me to the place I've often mulled about: The corridor in which one year changes into the next. In most cases, the year will have no need to fit new clothing, but for some, appearances may change entirely. My personal transformation from year to year, like any normal person, has taken place very gradually. I could imagine an entire time line of the elemental gifts discovered in consecutive years that have made me the person I am today, but I dare not digress with monotony. I can only shiver with anticipation to the beholding of new discoveries; a new gift.

My person would be nothing without the shaping experiences pushed forward by the most amazing and influential people that I've ever met. I have no aspirations toward speech-writing, but I can guarantee that without these people, my position would be fetal and my outlook, pathetic. Quite a few of them will never read this, but for those that do, I can't thank you enough.

There's a certain song* that brings about this thoughtful sentiment:

So this is the new year
and I have no resolutions
for self assigned penance
for problems with easy solutions

It's a sentiment that I tend to agree with, because most oftentimes, the easy solution to any problem is you yourself. But despite the worthlessness of most New Year's resolutions, I have set forth a few hopefully modest expectations, even though I fear that this coming year will be too erratic to even consider setting expectations. Nevertheless, I can't give up on anything resembling guidelines, so here is my attempt.

First and foremost, I would like to regain a focus on God in my life. It's often said that the first love is lost, and must be regained again, however, He's still very much a part of my life. I've just relegated Him to a place much too low. I have a few ideas on how I'm going to accomplish this in a practical way, but I would rather not set myself up for failure. I also get the feeling that the time I spend on the computer, and listening to music, and watching movies, is hampering my productivity. So in addition to a renewed focus, I'm also craving a fresh vision for new and simmering ideas. I'm feeling a novel on the horizon, if my senses aren't too out of whack.

Ah, but one visor remains. ** As per the usual, I would also like to get in physical shape. But lets not get ahead of ourselves here, shall we?

So, I've already set up a few goals for myself, which hopefully won't lead me towards entrapment, but there are also a few factors that are out of my control that have led me to much prayer. If every new year brings about some degree of change in a person's life, then this year must really have its sights on devouring me whole with possibilities.

I had plans to write quite a bit more, but I think I can leave it at that. Happy New Year to all fellow bloggers, and stay off the vodka.

P.S. A simple warning, I have doubts on whether or not I'll post here, ever again. We shall see what my outlook and schedule holds for me in the next couple of months, but I would hate to commit to anything.

* = Death Cab For Cutie, The New Year
** = Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare. Learn it, love it, live it.

The right and noble Claudio is quite tired.

Well, it's been a little while. At least I did warn you about the length between posts.

I'm writing right now in the heat of everything. Remember that lil' old blog near the beginning of my blogging tenure about the Bard? Well, guess what? We perform our Shakespeare play this weekend and have been practicing hours on end, every single day for the entire week.

Thankfully, I do not have to play two characters like I might have, which is a relief, because the one character that I do have is very emotionally overbearing. Last night I was so exhausted that I went to bed as soon as I came home.

Anyway, that's really all that's on my mind at the moment. Prayers are appreciated.

-Ben

The fourth quarter review.

Well, I thought since I haven't done a proper update in a while and the one line blog posts were getting kind of annoying [even to me], so here is an amalgamation on what's going to happen by November's end, and what the month of December is probably going to entail.

This also means that I may or may not post in a while, at least to this extent.

December is definitely going to be one of those months. I don't mean to sound surprised, because it always is, but it gives me the impression that it's going to be busier than usual.

The end of November, for Americans anyway, brings the advent of Thanksgiving. Now, I'm not saying that you shouldn't be thankful or anything, but I've never really liked this holiday. Like most others, it seems to exist as an excuse to completely gorge yourself on food. Because that's what you're thankful for, right? Either way, we have guests coming over, none of them do I know very well. Maybe that's why I'm so jaded: This happens every year. Well, mostly.

I've only got about another week to last in Movember before I get to shave everything off. Not that it really makes any difference, and if you could actually see me, you would know precisely what I was talking about. I have plans to last through Thanksgiving, only to give up just before and succumb on the twenty-eighth. Only because, you know, I want to look nice for the school dance that's coming up.

Which leads me into the next topic: drama, drama, drama. I'm taking someone else (a girl, just in case you were wondering) to the dance for the first time, even though I haven't actually asked her yet. I've bought the tickets already, yet I haven't talked to my parents yet (that comes later today), and I'm going to have to go almost right after an extra Shakespeare practice that we're having. I can only hope I can get dressed and smell good properly in time.

Ah, Shakespeare. Shakespeare encompasses most of the busy feelings that I have about the upcoming month, primarily because we're performing on the eighteenth and the nineteenth. This means practices, practices, and more practices. I've also discovered that I'm going to be playing two characters instead of just one, which also means that I have some extra lines to memorize. Piece of cake, a stress-filled cake. So, we have two practices a week (we could use more, but we're a club, not a class) and then a practice every day for the week leading up to the performance. We've got a venue, and posters, and much prayer going out, praying that it all goes well. If we miss more than one practice, then we have to be out, and considering I'm one of the main characters, that just can't happen.

I will however, have to miss one practice: On December 3rd, my mom and younger sister and I will be on a plane to Singapore, with the eventual destination of Malaysia. My cousin is getting married to an American-Malay, and since he has family in Malaysia, we are conveniently right around the corner to attend their wedding (or second one, that is.) This means I get to wear my suit twice in the same week. Looks like, he has...arrived in style. YEEEAAAAHHHHHHH.

Christmas really does come earlier every year. This Christmas, I just might have enough money to buy presents for all my friends, and that's the one thing that fills me with hope about the holiday season. Although it may be commercialized schlock, Christmas is still my favorite time of year because I absolutely love the gorgeous atmosphere surrounding it. Cinnamon and holly leaves, not the smell of someone's sweat as you're getting trampled for marked-down prices at Walmart.

My brother is also thankfully coming for Christmas, and since I haven't seen him in a year, that's probably the thing I'm most looking forward to. Sadly, this will be the very first family Christmas that the whole family isn't able to make to, but I think I can forgive my sister for that. Maybe not for going to New Moon on the midnight showing, but we'll discuss that later.

I think I'm pretty much covered on what I wanted to mention, but if I've forgotten anything, I'll let you know. Otherwise, keep on truckin'

-Ben

I've come to the conclusion...

...that I have a near one hundred percent chance of being friendzoned by every girl I have and will come into contact with. Ever.

That is all.

A Dead Person Breathed On Me!

Hey, my thirtieth post. I'm actually proud of myself. I made it. Woo.

Anyways, I don't have a whole lot to say. We lost our debate today, but I don't care. I did my best. Sort of.

I'm also taking a break this week from everything. There's been so much busy so I'm going to step back and take some naps. And you might not get a new blog for a while, because I'm not sure how much I actually have to write about at the moment.

Well, I'm off.

-Ben

P.S. Title is reference to a Forgive Durden song off their debut, Wonderland. You should get it. It's great.

Blahness.

It's Sunday morning, and I'm sitting at my desk in my boxers because I was deemed too unhealthy to go to church. I'm listening to The Classic Crime and desperately want some Milo, even though we don't have any.

The tragic part about all this is that I actually have work to do that I haven't done yet. Such is life, I guess, but I wish I wouldn't have to. Guess, I mean.

I speak.

I decide that I'm going to try hard to keep up with the blog posts, regardless of whether or not I have interesting things to say.

Top Ten Lies Told By Parents To Their Teenagers:

10. I'm trying to help you.
9. We will support you in any decision that you make.
8. You are free to make your own decisions.
7. We will teach you how to drive.
6. We will try and give you your allowance this month.
5. We won't mind if you get your ear pierced.
4. We will listen to what you have to say.
3. You can go to any college you want.
2. We are doing this because we love you.
1. This hurts me more than it hurts you.

I chew my fingernails at my desk. I'm not sure why; they don't taste very good. I wonder if my glasses affect the way my monitor light travels to my eyes. I suppose in several hundred years they'll dig up my body and say, 'Oh lord, not another one,' because there will be a concentrated dent in the bowels of my eye cavity.

I didn't find out about November Novel Writing Month until it was too late to do anything about it. I chew some more. I shall have to keep this mentally annotated until further notice.

- Ben

All you need is love. Eh, not really.

Here is the last in a string of posts that accumulate my thoughts regarding the philosophical world. It might not be the last ever, but I'm going to take a break from it for a while. It hurtz mah brayne.

First off, we find out one of the traits of a personal God is love. From the manuscript Understanding the Times (for which all this philosophical rambling is responsible) it reads this:

"God's love is sacrificial." It then goes on to describe the sacrifice of God as atonement for man's sins. God is the essence of everything perfect and everything pure. God is love, God made love. Love is just simply one of God's core attributes. But lately, one of the things I've been wondering is this question: Is God a romantic one? The church is regarded as the bride of Jesus Christ, but what exactly does that mean?

God created Adam and then decided that he needed a companion to roam the earth with. Enter Eve. Why would God create a need for a companion, a soul-mate? Despite some Scripture in the New Testament written by Paul that suggests leading a single life, I believe that man was designed to have a lifelong female partner. Which makes sense, if you read Genesis. My question is...why?

It seems I got my point (or question) across a lot quicker and shorter than I thought, so I'll leave you with this. Anybody able to shed a light on this subject for me?

Not so long ago, on a computer not so far away..

I'm not sure what the really real topic of this blog post is going to be, but I just wanted to point out a few things.

Ah, Star Wars. Many a time I've enjoyed these movies. Not so much anymore, but there's a wealth of memories in there somewhere. If this sudden intrusion of topic seems random to you, forgive me. I came here to talk about the implications and inner workings of Star Wars, and then as a footnote, add some Star Trek commentary to the mix.

[Overly sensitive] Christians have always complained that Star Wars is a tremendous advocate of New Age propaganda. And, in fact, many of these claims do not go unfounded: The Star Wars universe is not unlike one steeped in cosmic humanism. First, you have this unspeakable energy that surrounds all living things, and through the help of random genetics (Lucas' ill-conceived 'midichlorians') and finding yourself, you can harness this energy with supernatural-esque powers. You also have the ascension to a higher plane of being after death, if you have the ability. Otherwise you'll just become reincarnate, but that's what George Lucas doesn't tell you.

I've always thought that something rooted in fiction and fantasy is never a good way to show off your religious beliefs. I see it as more a disservice to the idea. It's like saying, 'Hey, look! Here's something that could never ever happen in real life, but if you look closer you can see religious principles that apply to us! Whoopee!' That's why I didn't so much as hiccup over the controversy surrounding such things as The Golden Compass (yes, I read all of them) as 'dangerous' as they may be.

Aside from that, I just think George Lucas is incredibly confused. It's like he got too caught up in promoting modern religion that he decided to throw the whole pot into the mix. We learn in Episode 1 that Anakin Skywalker was conceived of a virgin birth. And, as we all know, he progresses into becoming the main antagonist, who becomes worthy of redemption at the very end...through sacrifice. And while Christ was never ever ever the villain of our Bible, the comparisons are interesting.

I also want to discuss a particular line that had at least some Christians up in arms on message boards. It takes place in the final battle on Mustafar at the end of Episode 3 between Obi Wan Kenobi and his turned padawan, the soon to be Darth Vader. With the green swirling of a foreign planet's atmosphere behind him, Kenobi looks past the camera and says to his changed student, 'Only a Sith deals in absolutes.' (Going crazy with the formatting today, eh?)

Wait, wait, wait. Rewind. That has got to be one of the stupidest lines that Lucas has ever written, only surpassed by the 'Anakin, you're breaking my heart' that came just a few minutes previous. Why? Because Lucas figured since he'd already thrown most other religions into the mix, he might as well sprinkle some postmodernism. Why does this not work? The thing is, when you have a working religion within a world that deals with standards, a throwaway line that's meant to be important is simply not acceptable. Not to mention that it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Why would only a Sith deal in absolutes? The Star Wars universe is divided into the light side and the dark side (if you're a force user, anyway). There is no in-between. Are we supposed to believe that the Republic was 'evil' all along?! DOES ANYTHING MATTER ANY MORE!!

I'm probably missing some subtleties since I haven't seen the series in a while, and won't for a while either, but these are things that have annoyed me for a while. And like I mentioned, as a footnote, I will be discussing a little Trek.

Star Trek directly contrasts with Star Wars' religious melting pot sensibilities, and moves directly into the age where God is no longer relevant, and all religions eradicated. I fear we are reaching this age quicker than others might think, but Star Trek is the utopia of futuristic thought. Poverty, famine, most diseases, have all been terminated, all without divine intervention. The humans have conquered themselves and usher in a new age of prosperity. While there are some episodes that touch on the idea of God ('Who Watches the Watchers,' TNG) most are for the purpose of showing that God is an outdated and foolish concept. We now worship the higher powers of technology and interspecies diplomacy.

Don't get me wrong, I have poured hours and hours into each individual Trek series (*blushes*), and I've grown fond of Star Trek, but sometimes the unreality of this situation sickens me. More technology, more advanced weapons. More advanced weapons, more ways to kill people, and more wars. The cycle never ends, and never will end until it eventually destroys us.

I choose that positive note to end this blog. I fear for it's relevance and importance, but in the end it's just more nonsensical blogstuff that I choose to ramble about.

Live long and prosper,
Ben

You can't handle the truth.

Most of the upcoming blogs stem from the fact that I've been taking a class titled 'Understanding the Times,' which is an analysis of each major worldview, and how to understand it, and relate it to winning people for Christ. It's a pretty impactful course/book, and I've found it quite intriguing so far, even if it is a lot of material to keep up with.

This blog is going to be about a very short, yet problematic word: Truth.

Most Christians have pointed out the conundrum in the humanist philosophy of the statement 'There are no absolutes,' when in fact, that is an absolute statement. This is a little off-track already, but I think Christians miss the point when they point that out because the actual statement is not the basis of the entire worldview. Detractors could just retort with 'the only absolute is that there are none,' and all Christians would be left with is trembling lips.

Truth is an interesting concept: What constitutes as true? The aforementioned book that I am studying postulates that in the Bible, Jesus states that He is the way, the Truth, and the life. Jesus is truth, and the essence thereof. This is, in fact, a true statement. Jesus cannot lie, and therefore be the opposite of what is true, because untruth is imperfect. It would then also stand to reason, that since Jesus is truth and the essence of everything true, anything untrue with contradict with Jesus' divine nature.

The bigger question is: What divides truth from the falsehood? Where exactly does the line stand?

In the essay Playing With Fire by Walt Russell, he describes a growing epidemic in the general public of America, as well as America's churches: Relativism. As an example, he uses an adult Sunday school class to illustrate:

"Twenty-four year old 'Janet' was angry at my emphasis on seeking to discover authors' intentions when we read their texts. She was an evangelical Christian and a second grade teacher in a public school. She prided herself in helping her 20 students learn to love literature. She would read them a story as they gathered around her, and then ask each child, "What does the story mean to you?" She prodded them to come up with their own unique meanings. With such strong encouragement, the class of 20 would eventually have 20 different meanings for the one story. Janet sensed that I was opposed to such "love of literature." Pouring a little emotional gasoline on the fire, I said, "Janet, you're certainly doing your part to insure that these 7 year-olds will never recover from a radically relativistic view of meaning!""

Russell then goes on the describe the shift in literary perspective from the author to the text itself.

I get the feeling that I'm reaching for a cookie jar too high on the shelves with this attempt at coherency, but that was one of the hardest paragraphs I've ever had the displeasure of reading through. To realize that it was very true, and yet very false all at the same time. Is that up to me to decide? I'm not sure, but here's where I'm coming from:

I believe that the Bible is the infallible, true, God-breathed Scripture imparted to us to channel our relationship with God. And while some passages allow for interpretation, some scriptures can be very dangerous when taken out of context, especially when seeking personal justification. However, I fail to understand how the truth of Jesus Christ can render an interpretation of a piece of artwork untrue. I'm not just talking about paintings, I'm talking about stories, lyrics, and almost especially poems. On one hand, wonderful things such as these can be used to tell a story personal to the author, unraveling a thread of their existence, but on the other hand, regardless of what the author's intention was, when different people few the same piece of art, very different conclusions are always reached. Who are we to say that the way a person feels about a piece of artwork is wrong?

My mom and I were discussing this in the car, and she came up with this much simpler explanation:

"Is art God?"
"Well...obviously not."
"Then why should art hold to any standard of truth? Art is neither true nor untrue, but exists purely for the experience of the creator and the viewer both."

Well, I'd have to agree, except I just had to go and think about it some more. What about the crossover CCM bands that write truth about relationships with God, yet, oftentimes they will get misconstrued and interpreted as being a relationship with a girl?

I think I may be over analyzing at this point, but these were just a few thoughts I had.

Next post: You will find how much of a geek I actually am, and how much I am not.

Video killed the radio star.

Hah, you thought I was gone, didn't you?

Well, stay tuned, because I've got some interesting things cooking up for the next few days. I would have posted them earlier, but I haven't had the time to put them on paper, I've been so busy.

Just as a warning, these are mostly gonna be ramblings of the more philosophical sort, so if you're not into that kind of stuff...well, hopefully I can make it interesting.

Remember, stay tuned.

YO, BEN I'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU AND IMMA LET YOU FINISH, BUT BENJAMMIN FUNKYFRESH HAD ONE OF THE BEST BLOGS OF ALL TIME

After three platinum records, a Grammy nomination for best recorded hip hop song ("Touch It (Bey Bey) feat. Touldja Boy Sellout") and his own top selling clothing line (Napes), Benjammin' Funkyfresh decided to do the one thing that would set him as unprecedented among most other rappers (and being white too? Oh my!) : He would star in his own movie. Being his own movie, it was only fitting for him to write the title track, an autobiographical ditty:

Look, if you have, one shock, one big epiphany
That believes you could be anything you ever wanted
With extra pepperoni, would you bask in it? Or just mull and sit?

..

No, he decided to scratch that. What he did decide on is work on recording a new single, because the album is 'so last year.'

Listen up, because I'm about to have some fun
You'll find out the mouth that has the dopest tongue
It's the same one, that's spitting over the track
All the enemy MC's find a target on their back
Don't react, it's true I'm the whitest that you've seen
Shake it up, it's the stuff from a bottle of whipped cream
But the dream, is still the beat pounding in your ear drums
And the lyrical miracles that dub me as fearsome
You hear son? I'm not the one that grew up on the backstreets
But if you check it I wreck up more truth than a fact sheet
A black sheep? Probably not in the slightest
But the echoes of my word throws may be giving you nightmares
You might scare, a toddler with an active imagination
But think fast, you been outclassed by a high school education
The abrasions, are leaving you dumbstruck and speechless
But look, it's the hook that will even stump your teachers

*amazing chorus*

As you can see, it's still a work in progress.

Here are some words from the hip hop prodigy himself:

YO CHECK IT ITS THE NEW SINGLE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT BECAUSE THE PROCEEDS ARE FUNDING MY SECOND HUMMER AND A NEW BEACH HOUSE BTW DID YOU GUYS CATCH THE AWARDS CEREMONY LAST NIGHT??!! SHAKIRA SHOULD HAVE SO WON MY DAWGS!! I WONDER WHAT THATS ALL ABOUT WELL I HAVE TO GO GOOD LUCK READING THIS HOPELESS PROSE BECAUSE I'M A RAP STAR AND CAN'T TYPE FOR CRAP THANK YOU VERY MUCH

- Benjammin' Funkyfresh

Friday night's alright for writing. (Part Trois)

Sorry this took a little bit to get out, but I figure I'd leave a little time for the last three ones to process.

Day 2: I get up, take a cold shower, and get anything I need for the day before taking a car down the resort that we were supposed to be at.

I should probably mention that it was freezing last night, as I wasn't exactly aware of how cold the air-con was turned down when I turned it on, and couldn't change it because my room buddy was sleeping right under it. Needless to say (why do people say this when we say what we're gonna say anyway..?) we all shivered that night, and I ended up sleeping in my hoodie.

We have an optional early morning worship (7:30..*.*) before eating a relatively pleasant breakfast and heading to the morning sessions.

This morning session was focused on the second chapter of Jonah (the second session, so..) and the theme word of peace. All the speaking aside, we also found out what teams we were all on and what games we would be competing in.

After that, we ate lunch before heading to the games.

Our team was the subtly named Ginger Vitis, and we took our gum infected mouths down to the swimming pool to play a good ol' fashioned game of tube wars. For those of you not in the know, tube wars is when you all get into inner-tubes and proceed to smash and bang the other team, trying to flip them over.

I preferred to stay out of the water, and come up with cheesy cheers instead. You know, we will rot you?

After this game we headed over to the field to play kajabe can-can, otherwise known as garbage can tag. If you've never played, each person holds onto a small strip of rope and forms a circle, with one or more garbage cans in the center. The objective is to get your opponent to knock into the garbage can and/or let go of the rope.

This was the only game that I ended up playing, but I didn't mind. I got out in the first ten seconds because my chest was being ripped into by the relatively big guy on my left and the OMGHE'SFRIGGINHUGE guy on my right. I didn't mind not playing the games because rather than encouraging teamwork and getting your mind off the heavy stuff, it seemed more of a distraction to what I was actually here for: Fellowship and community with both man and God. The other reason I didn't like the games was for the fact that because I wasn't playing, I felt obligated to scream my heart out, which I did. I'm not sure it's still quite yet back to normal.

After those displays of physical masculinity (we lost both) we had some free time to hang out before dinner and the evening session, as well as an optional seminar. Since I've already somewhat described both, let me just skip to the interesting stuff.

After dinner Hume Lake held a massive kajabe can-can tournament. I didn't participate in that either, but one of my best friends ended up winning for the guys. I just mulled around and maybe possibly dressed up like little red riding hood (no, I'm not going to explain). We took the van back to our cabins, ahd our guy-time devotions and went to bed. Which was awesome about my cabin because while everybody else was getting wasted by drinking Red Bull and staying up late, we remained relatively subdued. Friendly, but subdued.

Day 3: Repeat of day 2, get up, take a cold shower, get in van for other resort, have early morning worship, and then eat breakfast before heading off to the morning sessions.

This morning to give Chris a break from speaking, they decided to do things a little differently by having several mandatory seminars that you could choose from which to go to and spend your morning. I found it incredibly difficult to choose, but I ended up going to a seminar taught by a different Chris entitled 'Why do I love sin more than God?' I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it was a rewarding experience. The purpose of the seminar was not to convict you to turn from your sin, as so many of those experiences is all that they accomplish, but the seminar was about loving God completely and totally, even more than your own life, your family, and everything going around you. This Chris also had a personal and powerful testimony to share, but I don't think I will labor to type it out.

After the morning seminars we had lunch (wasn't it just breakfast..?) and more games. I didn't play them, so I won't bother explaining, but they both involve balls. *cough* spheres, Ben, didn't you get the memo? So, yeah. I screamed my heart and lungs out, again.

After the games we had more free time and maybe one or two optional seminars. I sort of hung around the worship one, but after about five minutes with the bass player and me mastering the most complex thing she played in worship, I figured I wasn't going to learn a whole lot. But after that I had an interview, but I can't really divulge what it was about or for at this moment. Not because it's sensitive information but because I want to keep it a surprise.

We had a short(er) evening session before they divided the group in boys and girls and took us to separate rooms where we received the purity talk, by far my least favorite experience in this camp, and any other situation. It didn't make it any better that the speaker was fairly awkward about it, and beat around the bush, and basically amounted to 'don't have sex, kids!' Sure. I don't mean to be crude, but maybe this very mantra would have prevented us from having this talk from you anyway. <.<

After that it was the usual hang out before heading to the other cabin to have devotions and go to bed. In my personal opinion, the discussion we had in the devotions after the 'talk' was far more rewarding and helpful than anything that man could have said. *sigh* Oh, well.

Day 4: I woke up, finally figured out the hot water on my shower, packed all my stuff up, and heading to the other resort.

We had breakfast, and then one final short morning wrap-it-up session before having to drag all our bags out to the road and get our ride home. It turned out that our ride thought the camp ended at one, but it reality, it ended at eleven. So we got to spend some awesome extra time with the leaders there, and it made for a really good end to an excellent couple of days.

Thanks for reading, I'm out.

Ben

The third time is the charm, except if you're the president. [Part Deux]

Hm, the past few days, here we go:

Well the setup is this: Around the general area of Fresno, California, exists a place called Hume Lake. A very integral part of this is Hume Lake Christian Camps, which hosts thousands of kids every summer, and has an event going each week of the year. One of the things that HLCC does is travel all over the world, doing international camps for missionary kids. Every two years, Hume Lake comes to Chiang Mai to host one.

I had been two years ago, so none of this was new, but the experience proved to be quite worth it.

Day 1: The usual camp necessities: Registration, finding people you know, etc. Due to the sheer amount of people that showed up (over three hundred, which is fairly impressive), the resort did not have enough room for the amount of people that were coming. I was among the unfortunate few assigned to room at a different resort about five minutes down the road. The worst part? All of the other guys that were also assigned were from one of the international school, and I didn't really know any of them. I had requested a person as a roommate, but instead had to sleep next to two people I had never met before.

I say all this not to complain, but to describe what happened, because in actuality it turned out to be alright. My roommates didn't turn out to be too strange, and one in particular was very friendly and open to me. It was still uncomfortable, but not unlivable.

Day one really kicks off with the first night session in which we get introduced to our speaker for the camp. It was the same speaker as last time, but I didn't mind. The speaker, Chris Simning, has such an impacting testimony and speaking style that it becomes quite difficult to take notes because you're so wrapped up in his words. Chris isn't one of those people who took drugs, had sex, and caved his soul out before coming to Christ to fill it back up again. In fact, he's been a Christian most of his life. But his whole life literally changed overnight in the eighth grade when he got out of bed, his head fell forward, and he couldn't lift it up again. He was subsequently diagnosed with a rare muscle disease, and it's stayed with him since then. His limbs are twisted, and he can't speak normally, and this lends to his testimony: Not the fact that Christ is amazing and healed him, but that as a person he's had some extremely rough times, but Christ has helped him through that. He still suffers through insecurities and the confines of his condition, but strangely enough, that just makes him seem more normal, only his problems are more easily seen than other people's might be.

Another thing that makes Hume Lake what it is, is the theme. While always silly, it masquerades as a Bible lesson teaching tool underneath. This year the theme was Mulletia, the story about a town whose hairstyle was killing them, and a government agent is sent to save them. It also doubles as the story for Jonah, which Chris greatly expounded on.

After the first night, we had some free time before we had to haul out and go to bed, and there were optional activities: dodgeball and open mic night. I, being the person that I am, immediately opted for the latter. And while there were some cringe-inducing acts (I felt an incredible amount of pity for this poor girl whom someone lied to her when they told her that she could sing, and she went up on stage twice) it remained pretty enjoyable. After some self-coercion I actually ended up participating. Twice. The first time I played and sang a worship song with some other girls that are in our youth band, but the second time it was me, all by my lonesome, playing a song that I wrote. It was definitely a new experience, and I got some incredible encouragement out of that, so despite my shaking legs, I think it was a win situation.

Thus concludes the first day of camp, and this blog. I was going to describe it all in one, but then I realized exactly how huge it would be, so there will indeed be a part trois.

"Holy two blog posts in a day, Batman!" said Robert Frost. [Part Un]

In my last blog, I threw out (as in wrote it out, not got rid of) the old adage, 'write what you know.' That's exactly the purpose of this blog, but I'm almost afraid to admit that the effort is pointless. This was supposed to help me to get motivated to write more, but it hasn't, really. The months of spaces between posts can vouch for that. It was supposed to maybe give a slightly different perspective of life, from a missionary kid who hasn't spent a whole lot of time in his home country. But while Thailand as a country is very much different from the United States, me as a person isn't all that different from somebody you might find there.

I'd even go as far to say that this blog could really be written by anybody with hopefully more than half a brain, and the thought depresses me. And another in a long stream of depressing thoughts, lets face it, the readership demographic for a seventeen year old who writes about himself are pretty darn slim. About three, in fact. For all those rejoicing, this doesn't mean that I'm going to stop posting. To quote a favorite movie of mine, 'Never give up, never surrender!' My only solution is to keep on keeping on until ramblings are capable of scratching the surface of mediocrity and fulfilling my original intentions.

But back to the original subject line, writing what I know is really all I can do. It's why my first novel idea had to be based around me, and why I keep signing in here, and maybe why I can come across as so egocentric sometimes.

That's another thing that's been blowing my mind lately: Why are people so wrapped up inside their own skin that it wraps around their face, over their eyes, and it shoves their eyeballs back into the empty space where a brain is supposed to be? As another well known adage goes, when you point your finger at someone, there are always three fingers pointing back at you. In this case, there's only one pointing back because I'm doing it on purpose. I am in no away immune to these attacks of selfishness, but after spending extended amounts of time with unfamiliar people I think I'd rather keep them unfamiliar. They can't comprehend that there are billions of people out there that each have lives that are worth keeping, and they'll never comprehend that because they are too busy tending their own.

Off on a major tangent here, but that's just something that has really struck me over the past few days. Which I will describe in much more detail in part two. And yes, the blog title is keeping in line with pretentiousness, but I only think I strive to it just because I like using that word.

On a bright note, I think I feel some lyrics stirring.

I am Jack's pretentious blog post.

Hello, old friends. How nice of me to drop by. Yes. It's been over two friggin' months. A lot has happened over those two months, but I don't think I'll bother you with the details. I don't suppose it would be all that exciting to someone who wasn't me. On the bright side, I'm a year older, and hopefully a year wiser. A year wiser for setting up new creative endeavors, to puncture the door open to a whole world of possibilities. Of course, that's just my wishful thinking.

It's hard to describe, but it almost feels like these couple of months have produced even more growth than you would expect for a regular person. But then again, I'd prefer not to consider myself regular. I've crossed the transition of being sixteen and nearly older, but still the usual vitriolic sixteen year old, to being the seventeen year old who doesn't quite know it yet, to being the seventeen year old who feels older, and in turn, acts older.

If that just sounds like a swaddle of prideful mumbo jumbo, you're probably right, but I usually try to write what I know. Regardless, I just..feel different.

Thoughts, anyone?

In which I drunkenly attempt to validate a pathetic excuse for a blog.

I promised an update, so here you have one. The past week has been quite the doozy. A team from England held a youth conference at our church, so I was asked to plan two worship sessions while their band handled the rest. I got a lot of help from our keyboard player, but it was still incredibly stressful.

So we had the planning and then the actual youth conference..it was pretty cool, but we kind of sucked. I mean, it really doesn't matter in the light of God's eyes, but we only had about an hour each day to set up everything and practice and that's just not enough. To add to that, we had no drummer so we had to borrow people that didn't necessarily know the songs we were doing. Oh well.

And, blahblahblah. I'm tired. I know, this is a pretty pathetic update, but I think I may have some sleep to catch up on.

-Ben

P.S. Chris Tucker sucks.

It's like a romantic getaway in the sky.

An update on the updates.

I'm about to update this so stay tuned for an update.

In the meantime, I'm about to get some sleep before I go about this...updating.

- Ben

P.S. Gosh, I'm clever, aren't I?

Anothing (I went to type another thing, but I think I'm liking this slang) that I was musing on doing was a review column. I know, it sounds boring. But I'll quickly review the last few things that I've watched/read/listened to and hopefully it will be amusing. At least I get practice.

THE FILM:

Public Enemies - We pretty much all know the story. And we've certainly heard the ladies scream 'omg johnny depp christian bale channing tatum' without even stopping to breathe. First off, Channing Tatum dies. Very quickly. Let's just get that out of the way.

Second off, this movie is long, and likely too long (and possibly violent) for the attention span of said ladies (sexist, I know). The movie itself is decidedly very broody, but Johnny Depp's talent is not wasted here. Despite playing famed criminal John Dillinger with a certain amount of charm as he does well, I certainly couldn't help but dislike him. He was indeed a folk hero and celebrity among the people of the Great Depression, but he still broke the law, he still killed people, and he still usually got what he wanted at the expense of others, and eventually, himself.

Marion Cotillard seems quite conflicted here between playing the smart strong woman that knows that Dillinger is dangerous, and the vain stupidity of the public, blindly following Dillinger's every beck and call.

Christian Bale doesn't really have a whole lot to do here besides look seriously pissed at missing catching the crook at nearly every turn, but he's still fairly entertaining to watch. I mean, c'mon, it's Christian Bale. Do you want him to go and trash your lights? DO YOU?!!

And to round up the performances, Billy Crudup in his limited screen time does a surprisingly good job as the fairly young director of the FBI earnestly trying to gain the cooperation and respect of his peers.

I could say a lot more crap about how the script was, how the cinematography was, and all that jazz. But I won't. The facts are this: If you're only interested in watching this for the appearances of aforementioned stars and some good performances like I was, I'd probably wait for the DVD. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy yourself for two and a half hours.

B-

THE BOOK:

The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini - I'd better preface this review by saying that I hadn't seen the movie before reading the book, and I doubt I will, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Hosseini's story is a simple one, but the emotions go far deeper than that.

A brief overview of setting: Besides the prologue, the book starts in 1970 before the Russian's invaded Afghanistan and focuses on two young boys. The first is the son of a very wealthy man, whose mother died giving birth to him. The second is the former boy's servant, as well as playmate. This is their story.

I'm afraid this review won't go into much detail, so if you're looking for that, go find and read the book. The fact is, despite some interesting literary observations, this is not a masterpiece of symbolism and alliteration, but it is a story about emotions and manipulating yours.

I can't say I cried while reading the book, but you definitely can come to identify with Amir agha, the novel's protagonist, all while simultaneously coming even close to hating him.

This is not light reading, folks, but I'd say it's definitely worth your time. I'm almost ashamed to admit I knew almost nothing about the history of Afghanistan, and sometimes the book can be a real eye-opener.

B+

THE MUSIC:

Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes

My fingers are tired, so I'm just gonna say it like this: This album is one of the best I've heard in years. It's good for relaxing, it's good for car rides, and it's good for background listening. Fleet Foxes have mastered the art of maintaining the illusion of simplicity while their smokey melodies and echoing guitars all add up to anything but.

If you haven't heard the album, hear it. If you don't own it, buy it. And if you don't love it, may God have mercy on your soul.

A

The Sunday Update

Well, it's a been a week. Or at least almost.

Some very unfortunate things have happened in that week, one of the most being that my computer crashed. Motherboard became fried, kaput, done for. So I'm either stuck borrowing my mom's computer or using an old Dell laptop that has a broken screen, and using my old monitor. Needless to say, it's one of the slowest things on the planet, so I usually stick to the former.

I wish I had some more interesting things to tell you.

Oh wait.

I'm getting a Zune. A cherry red, 120 GB Zune. Yay me. Actually, I won't be all that excited until I can actually get all my music and more on it (which will be a bit of a task with my computer and all), but after living without a portable digital music player for nearly seventeen years, I can't wait.

Since it's been so long, I'm going to go ahead and post two blogs today, with the introduction of a new column, which may or may not have any lasting power. I'm bored, so what the heck. I'm also procrastinating on practicing my piano and washing our car.

..

-Ben

Downpourfall

As most of you know (and have somewhat witnessed on this blog), I like to write nearly anything. Blogs, lyrics, poetry, you name it. So, here is my latest (although not particularly recent) creation of poetical goodness.

Downpourfall

Rain turns up her nose
At the thirsty Field of dust
Even though the Old Rain knows
Field awaits Rain's muddy brush

'Won't you come down?' pleads the Field
'I promise you I will not drown
But Rain still refused to yield
To a simple patch of ground

Green crops! Field promises
And even rainbows, he begs
If only Rain was honest
For her, promises were dead

With a final screaming cry
Field begins to crack
Still Rain holds back her sky
Keeping exactly what Field lacks

Rain heaves a sigh for Field
But her sadness is not spent
For why should her tears be spilled
When she is perfectly content?

Rain leaves for another day
While Field remains in waste
But not too long for Field to say
'You go on, I'll wait'

Did someone call for delivery?

So I promised (aaack) a blog about the youth outreach that I attended last week. But since I'm a lazy git, I'll just copy + paste + edit off a massive e-mail that I sent to a friend. And I also promised photos, but the ones that I wanted uploaded haven't yet been, so all I have to go on is the ones I took myself with my crappy camera, when I bothered to take it out at all.

So, about those two days of outreach that we had last week. I got up early in the morning on Wednesday and went with my dad to the drop off point with a few other passengers and a whole heck of a lot of luggage (well, bags of clothes, sleeping material, our keyboard, our keyboard stand, my guitar, pillows, etc.) and we waited around for everybody else to get there. I had to make sure that we had all the stuff to set up sound for worship since I was in charge of everything and so then we packed up and headed out. There really weren't that many kids that went, and there were even a few that bailed out, but we still all had a really good time. The outreach was in this town (we're not sure what it was, it was way too big to be a village, but too small to be a city) called Wiang Pa Pao and all of us stayed in this children's home that I think is affiliated with our church. So we all slept on the tile floors, and that's probably why I'm still so exhausted. Soon after we arrived, we ate lunch and then drove out to the first high school that we were going to be witnessing at. We had a little program all set up with skits, songs, testimonies, and other things, but we really only had forty-five minutes there so we were a little short on time. We were all separated into three different teams for the different skits that we were gonna do: There was one team doing that 'Everything' skit, one team doing this other skit I found on the internet, and then our team was doing a funny one. Interestingly enough, all the girls went crazy over the guy playing Jesus.

Said guy.

On the whole the reception was pretty positive: they laughed at our skit, they cheered in the others when Jesus conquered, and they all accepted tracts. Score.

Later we went out to this thing in the middle of the town; but there didn't seem to be that many people around. And there was where we'd have all of our actual band play which really..didn't go so well. Most of the planning had to be done on the fly because I wasn't quite sure what was going on, and I'd have to say it was a bit of a mess. Even the other things we did didn't go so well: Most of the audience were younger kids and so they didn't really get any of the skits that we did and so the whole evening seemed to fall a little flat. After that we went back to the children's home to play a few card games before heading off to bed.

In the morning we got up (well, duh Ben, obviously) and ate a little bit of breakfast, and then prepared to go walking all around the whole of Wiang Pa Pao, handing tracts out to everyone that we could see who would take them. We spent several hours doing that and although it was blazing hot, it was a pretty rewarding experience. My small group even stopped and were able to hand this tract out to this Buddhist monk that we saw, although he didn't look the happiest.

After that we had a different school that we were going to that wasn't just high school students, but high school was still the age group that we'd be speaking to. That whole thing seemed to go pretty much the same way as the other school we went to did, and that was pretty fun. Although this time we had a lot more time to speak with the kids, and that was quite interesting. We definitely met some pretty cool people, and some of them even got some of us guys to go play basketball with them. I thought we were going to lose really bad, but people were saying that we won (I still don't believe them). If we did in fact win, it was only because of a certain person who towered over everybody and would have to rebound every shot that we missed. I'm pretty sure he was the only person on our team who scored.

There was a little bit more free time to be had as well as dinner until the evening when another youth group came to see us do our program. Since the people coming were already Christians, we spared them a few things and got right into it. That night I actually shared. Yeah, I know, little shy ol' me. I'd have to say I think it went pretty well. Anyway, right after they left, things were getting a bit emotional and all of a sudden somebody hits the ground and so we all crowd around and start praying and singing and crying..it was pretty cool. But actually our youth pastors had to tell us to stop because it was getting late and we might disturb the neighbors and/or get a little carried away. One of them says that slab of concrete is anointed with our holy snot now, and anyone who later walks on it is gonna get blessed, and I'd have to say, I wouldn't be too surprised if it happened. After that little experience we all played BS (Liar, Cheat, whatever you want to call it) together and then 'went to bed.' I put that in quotations because all the guys had big plans to finally take revenge on the girls after all the pranks that have pulled on us in previous youth camps by certain unnamed girls. We still failed, but at least we scared the female youth pastor really badly, so it was almost worth it. Then again, I didn't get much sleep that night.

The children's home where we stayed at. Yep, that's the floor we slept on.

The next morning mostly consisted of us eating breakfast and then packing up and leaving, and we were all pretty tired.

I've talked a lot about what we did, but I haven't really talked most about the emotional intangible things that we were all going through. Well, first of all, I'd have to say this was one of my few youth experiences that I didn't particularly touched by God. That's not to say it wasn't an amazing experience, it just seemed like I was already in the moment and in that place. Most of the other people did in fact, get a kind of spiritual reawakening so it's not as if the whole thing went down in flames. I do know for an absolute fact that God was with us through the whole time, even when we messed up; I can honestly say that for worship I have never ever heard me sing that good. I don't know if I ever will again, but this is just one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb to me.

The other thing that happened that probably impacted me more than any of the other stuff was the sense of community that I got just from spending two days with these people. I mean, by the end of it, we literally felt just like one big family. There was nothing that couldn't be shared around, and nothing too little to be cared for. And I think in that aspect it truly was amazing. Just that fact alone made all the stress and all the exhaustion completely 100 percent worth it.

Until next time,
Ben

P.S. When the other pictures that I want get uploaded, I will be sure to get them to you. Cheers.

For her, promises were dead.

Ah, promises, promises. They can be oh so fickle, especially for me. I'll have to work on that.

In my last blog I'd said I'd get back to you on the whole cheesy love song thing. I've been wanting to write a catchy one of my own but right now I'll just have to settle for the millionth play of I'm Yours.

Also going along with promises, I'm promising an actual blog in the near future. No shortness, no alter-egos, just cold hard reality. Actually I want to talk about the youth outreach that I went on last week and that was anything but cold and hard. Well, except for the floors. But yeah, expect some interesting stories with hopefully some pictures to boot.

And if you were wondering, the title comes from a poem that I wrote. I might show it to you sometime, if you ask nicely (even though some of you may have already read it.)_

Breathless, caught in the moment.

It's raining heavily outside, and cheesy love songs are on my mind.

I'll...I'll get back to you on that.

Striking again.

Benjammin' Funkyfresh had just woken up from his glorious nap off his hammock that overlooked the gold-plated pool that stood beside his mansion. Despite all of the available necessities (you know, foot massagers, margaritas), he felt burdened. Burdened from life's many problems and pitfalls and real problems that normal and more credible rappers don't go through. And at that moment Funkyfresh decided that 'dat pain IS real, yo.' Also in that moment, he made a phone call to fire his songwriter, whom he was paying five hundred dollars an hour to spit out the next hit. 'Heavy, man, real heavy.' He had decided that he was going to write his own songs. No more glocks. No more shawtys. Just the truth. And that my friends, is the true story of this next song.


It's automatic, like reflex is emphatic
With acrobatic attack like rats in the attic
I'm not proud to say I've always had it
Like withdrawal syndrome from a recovering addict
While I'm at it, don't believe the hearsay
The fact of the matter is it only looks this way
It just feels so f***ing useless even when I try to communicate with music
Abuse it like no right to make nuclear fusion or confusion
Don't believe illusion, because it's the image of vanity when I try to use profanity
Screaming at the world and trying to keep my sanity
Dodging like Hannity and everything that you try and call me
But loathe me? Ever knowing the scolders scold me holding
A royal flush to the consecutive folding, but boldly I'm going
All in to defend the measure of a better hand again with the cards
Now you made it hard to salvage the far gone shards of parts and rejects
But the least of it is I can only pick up the pieces

'It's like a whole mofo'ing epiphany, dawg!'

-Benjammin' Funkyfresh

The simple joys in life.

So, an awesome thing happened today.

There is money. In my pocket.

All because I work four days a week, and it finally paid off.

Thank God for paydays.

Random thought: I wonder if there's a beard fairy.

Welcome to my alter-ego.

Yo, I've decided to freestyle a blog
Sitting at my computer desk next to my dog
Did you know dog backwards is God?
I got skills that you wish you h..od??
Right now I'm running out of steam, as you can see
But I'm lean with the things that come outta me
I'm pretty sure that my freestylin' is ruthless
Betta get outta here before things get stupid

-Benjammin' Funkyfresh

From Hell It Came

If the title sounds like some cheesy 50's B-movie, that's probably because it is. But I'm not here to talk about some dumb movie I watched, I'm here to talk about this week. From hell it came. This week has probably been one of the most emotionally draining weeks I've had in a long time.

On Sunday I had to say goodbye to a friend whom I wasn't quite sure I would ever see again. We were friends and both liked each other and all, but we weren't extremely close, which is why I never thought I was gonna cry. I did.

Monday I decided to completely stop functioning. I continually kept breaking down and crying my eyes out, refused to go to work, and locked myself in my room most of the day. This was not just because I'm some emotionally immature brat that decided that one little thing is going to screw it up for everybody. I may have been acting like one at that point, but it was mostly because I had three really close friends leaving this week, and two of them were not coming back, and I didn't think I could handle it. This was not to mention the amount of people that were my friends that were leaving total, which brings it to about nine. I was seriously ready to die. Not to mention that because of all the melodrama that I was unable to see off a different friend who was leaving that evening.

I guess this is what happens after every graduation when you're a missionary, but there's no way in hell that I'm ever gonna get used to this.

Tuesday I forced myself to go back to work and wade through all the drudge. I was a little happier than before, only because if I didn't man up and handle this, it would definitely not just affect me. And then the inevitable: Tuesday night at ten o'clock at night, I took the trek to say goodbye to two people that have been huge parts of my life in the past year. Surprisingly enough, I had spent so much crying previously that no tear ever escaped my eyes.

Wednesday was more of the same, except there was none of it. Absolutely nothing. I had to cancel my piano lesson because of having to go to the immigration offices, and there was no Shakespeare club today. Not that I would have been able to make it with the amount of time spent there, which adds up to seven hours. Seven hours of doing pretty much nothing. Not that those snarky people behind the desk care.

There was also Bible study in the evening, which went over well except that I was reminded by my youth pastor that I was supposed to be leading worship this week. *groan* I mean, major groan. It's something that I love to do, but not now, please not now. Not to mention the fact that since the theme of youth group is 'B' night (don't ask) I was requested to try and play songs that start with B. -_-

Thursday was more of the same, except it ended with me frantically trying to get a band together for Friday. Which I failed at.

Friday I had my rescheduled piano lesson, and then had to hustle my butt over to the church to get ready for worship practice. Pretty much anything that could have gone wrong in that practice, did. We were going acoustic, and there was only one acoustic guitar to use between the two guitar players. That guitar only had five strings. We quickly restringed it and discovered that the new string would keep detuning. The keyboard player didn't have a proper keyboard to use; she had to use this miniscule twenty year old Korg that sounded awful, and we ended up leaving most of the songs we had planned on the cutting room floor. To top it off, our main back up singer got a really sore throat, and so I had to pull another singer at the last minute.

Despite all this adversity, that wasn't even the most disappointing part of the night. Because we had to pull in a new singer that different practice with us, the new song that we were playing, the one that I wrote, wasn't going to cut it. At least I've gotten positive feedback so far, but the only person that knows that I wrote it is my best friend, and me. Also on Friday, I had to say goodbye yet again, but at least she'll be coming back in a few months.

And there you have it. My week of hell. I just hope it doesn't decide to stretch itself out.

My dear friends.

It's time to face the facts: I really suck at updates.

I fail at life when it comes to writing snippets.

I hope you forgive me.

Spaghetti noodles.

My vacuum.

Stanford Achievement Tests are the bane of my existence. They are the primary tripping wire, at least for the moment. The past week has been filled with me frantically studying/learning math that I should have known years ago, scrambling to get a higher score on a test that I've already taken, and already have gotten a very serviceable score. Ah, well. Such is life, I guess.

Luckily for me I took my SATs last Saturday, and it's all over. No more staring at foreign equations or fathoming geometric shapes. I am now free.

Now, if only May 21st would come sooner.

Songkran

Say hello to cultural experiences. If you're looking to spend any amount of time in Thailand, just...don't do it in April. It happens to be one of the hottest months of the year, and I doubt you'll want to get in on all the Songkran Festival festivities (say that ten times fast). What is Songkran you ask? Let me explain.

Songkran is a nationwide festival that started out as a Buddhist holiday, where people would sprinkle a little bit of water on another person in order to bless them, as well as possibly mark them with chalk for blessing. Well, fast-forward a hundred years or so and it has turned into one huge water fight.

And this is where this blog finds me, squeezed in the back of a pick up truck next to a huge water tub and multiple people. This truck traverses the main streets of Chiang Mai, where drunks vomit and urinate in the same moat water that is being thrown at you from every possible angle. Sounds fun, doesn't it? Only to add that, blocks of ice are also being sold and submersed in various containers, so you get a nice icy blast to the face.

I've started to not care for Songkran so much.

But it was worth it. All because someone's mom decided that we all needed showers and hot spaghetti. Mmm.

And, shame on me because this blog is fairly outdated now. Songkran was about a month ago, and I forgot to finish this before I got too busy.

I am now a rebel with a cause.

I made a little space for writing a new blog, because I knew that I would be partaking in a church youth camp the following week. And with that, I bring you the subject of blog numero tres.

I woke up that Monday morning and went through the usual preparation routine: frantically stuffing my bags to fill out the specifications of requisite items, forcing my parents to sign the permission slip and give me the money, and shaving my head.

Whoah, whoah, back up there. That wasn't the original plan. But that's how it all went down, and my stomach had to leave the house deprived of its precious cornflakes and my head deprived of its curly mop and possibly its sanity.

The camp was located in a small village on Doi (meaning mountain) Inthanon, the tallest lump of dirt in Thailand. This was a relief because right now we're nearing the peak of the hot season in Chiang Mai (with which comes Songkran, which I'll explain later) and it's obviously much cooler up there. What was not so cool was having to get up at seven o'clock in the morning and having to exercise after staying awake until at least one the night (morning) before.

The camp games progressed in familiar nonsensical hilarity: People got scared, sick, tired, and all with hefty amounts of goo. It's an unfortunate connection that I shaved my head on the day that I got put on the white team, meaning I could not shout 'white pride!' without any sense of guilt. Not that there was much pride to be had, as our team lost every single game. Every one. The problem was that no one on our team was the competetive type at all, and we ended up remaining fairly apathetic throughout the whole thing. It's not that we didn't like the games, but we always had fun whether we won or lost, which the latter we did quite a bit of.

The good thing was was that while points were adding for winning games, the major points to be won were in other categories such as teamwork, selflessness, and willingness to help out. And because of that, the white team won the day (as in, four), at the last minute.

Unfortunately with youth camps, I usually go in with the expectant attitude that God can and will do something major with my life, I'll have an amazing time with worship, fellowship, and prayer, and then after that everything will go back to normal. For the most part, that's held true. But not this time, and I don't think I'm on a God-high (stoned on Jesus, folks) because the last few weeks I've felt a little out of touch.

As I briefly mentioned in my last post, I struggle so much to maintain my own voice when I'm the creator, and this was exactly the message that I've been praying for. As per the title, the theme was Rebel With a Cause and dealt mainly with identity. I don't want to get you guys too overwhelmed with personal struggles, but there was much release in getting rid of all self-consciousness, and some not-so-pretty emotions that I'd been dealing with.

I've decided that I'm going to catch the ball for my generation, and God is going to be behind me. That's the teaser trailer, and you guys are going to have to wait for the final production. :)

The other interesting thing about youth camp, and this is where cultural differences come into play, was that we were mixed with some Thais from some of the boys and girls home that our church foundation runs. And despite barely speaking a few sentences of Thai, I find that although their outlooks are completely different, these Thais were shy, but on the whole incredibly friendly, and I'm glad that they were able to take part in it.

On a final note, I know that the Lord has a sense of humor because I made the mistake of not taking a shower (it wasn't so much of a shower as it was a sponge bath with water you might find at a glacial lake) after some of the games, in which I got completely soaked. I didn't get changed and was absolutely freezing, so I must have looked pretty pathetic in the evening service shivering and kneeling before the feet of God.

There's so much more that went on that I could tell you, but I feel that this right here is enough. I'm getting over my sleep deprivation, I'm finally clean, and it's good to have Mom's good home cooking.

Until next time,
Ben

P.S. There really is so much more to say here, so don't hesitate to ask questions and I'll be happy to expand

The Bard

'So it is not with me as with that Muse'

I only wish this were true. We've created a vast subculture that in the striving to be unique, end up just like everybody else. It's those darn teenage hipsters again. I only have a sliver of hope in myself that I can rise above the horrible trappings of this and become truly unique, and as a musician, writer, artist, and poet, that's something I struggle with every time I pick up a pen and a piece of paper.

Any way that that goes, I've already gone way off topic from what I was originally going to talk about. I said this blog was going to be about actual life through my eyes, and not some psychobabble nonsense anyway.

The quote at the top of the page is from one of Shakespeare's sonnets, if you were paying any attention at all to the title, and I shall leave you to go discover that one if you're interested in learning more about what it's about.

The reason the topic is Shakespeare is because I have an opportunity that most missionary kids don't have. Through meeting some people at the local home school co-op, we have created a kind of Shakespeare troupe, and our on our way to performing our third play. I say on our way only due to the fact that we just started, and auditions are sometime this month. The play is Much Ado About Nothing and I have my very capable sights set on the role of Claudio. Oh, I can just taste the anticipation.

So why Shakespeare? Although crudity is the basest of humours, Shakespeare makes it hilarious and sophisticated at the same time. I doubt any modern day comedies can attest to this kind of wit:

"Is it possible Disdain should die, while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to Disdain if you come in her presence."

"Then is Courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none."

"A dear happiness to women - they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me."

"God keep your ladyship still in that mind, so some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face."

"Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were."

--

This small exchange between the characters of Beatrice and Benedick (in Much Ado About Nothing) is a drop in the sea of language to be found. And that's just why I love it so much. You could spend years studying his scripts.

I'm afraid I might be babbling on about something that not too many other people care about, or at least as passionately as I do, so I'll leave you with that. I'll let you know how auditions go, and will probably have another blog up by the end of next week.

Toodle-loo, I'm off to be or not to be.

-Ben

An introduction

I've created this blog as a motivating tool to get myself to keep on writing. I love to do it, but I unfortunately can get all too lazy. Hopefully I'll provide whoever reads this with regular updates anytime something interesting happens. Chances are that in Thailand, that's going to happen a lot.

I'm not sure who I created this blog for though. I do, in fact, want people to read it, so it's not some selfish ego trip that I get to write all about me (trust me, I've done it this way before, and it's worthless), but is it for the people that I know and love (or even somewhat dislike), or is it for the people that have no idea who I am, that somehow manage to stumble themselves upon my humble scribblings. Anyhow, that's probably going to be a conflict of interest as I try and satisfy both parties.

But first things first, a proper introduction: Hi, I'm Ben. I'm sixteen years old, and I'm a missionary kid living in Chiang Mai, Thailand. If everything goes as planned, this should give you an interesting perspective on what life is like living in a foreign country, but more importantly (at least, for some people) you're going to get a look at life through Ben's eyes. I ain't no normal teenager.

Also, there's always room for questions/comments at the bottom of the page.

Always stay tuned for more!

- Ben