Happy Day 365 of 2008!

Tomorrow ends this year. The lovely numerals of 2008 will give way to the more important-looking, almost stern, ones of 2009. I think that considering this, it would be well to part with the old year and enter the new one on a more serious note than I have portrayed most often in my posts on this blog.
I hope to encourage you, dear reader, by reminding you as I so often have to remind myself, that
"as it is written: 'None is righteous, no, not one...'" (ESV, Romans 3:10)
Why am I bringing this scripture to mind? How on earth will this bring us joy as we begin a new year?
Just wait; I am coming to that. I am bringing this scripture in as a mere beginning; an introduction, as it were, of an even more important message.
If none are righteous, than how can their deeds be righteous? And how can un-righteous deeds be perfect? They can't.
So for me, the perfectionist, the fact that I can't get everything done and everything done correctly, makes me quite discouraged. After all, what hope is there in this?
Hope comes into the picture when Christ does.... And hence the main point of this post:
"He [the Father] has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son,
14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.
For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. 17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent.
For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,
20 andthat through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.
And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds,
he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him,
if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister." (ESV, Colossians 1:13 - 23)

We are not righteous or perfect, but Christ is. And Christ will present us "holy and blameless and above reproach" before God.
And as a response to such great love as this, I am full of awe and motivated to do my best that I might "pay Him back" to the very small extent that I am able, in order to show Him my intense gratitude.
And that is how I want to start my new year.


Clothes and their associations....

It wasn't until just recently that I noticed something concerning my clothes that interested me immensely. Each article of clothing reminds me of a certain thing. Like, for instance, a purple shirt that reminds me of Star Wars, a green sweater that reminds me of the 1980's, and a black skirt that somehow brings to mind a friend of mine. Then there's the blue pants that are associated with exercising, and the white jeans that bear semblance to flour sacks.

And in discussing clothes, I suddenly realize that everything I encounter throughout the day calls to mind another thing.

There are colours for days of the week:
Friday = green
Saturday = orange
Sunday = red
Monday = red
Tuesday = blue
Wednesday = yellow
Thursday = a darker shade of blue

There are genders for numerals:
Odd numbers = male
Even numbers = female

There are thousands of songs that bring to mind hundreds of objects, some reasonable and others - such as glass-bottled ships for that song that includes the line "Shine, Jesus, shine" - that seem to have no relation whatsoever.

I wonder why our brains do that to us...


Friday; the organizing day.....

It's Boxing day. So what is more logical than cleaning out boxes? And in cleaning out boxes (and files and emails and things), what is more natural than finding odd things to post here?
And I have found something indeed; an old poem I wrote for my Mum's blog, April 29....

I went to post a list upon this blog,
but stopped when I saw a button....
My finger leaped to it in surprise,
and before I knew, it was on.......

A loud explosion followed it,
And I was left in some smoke....
Nothing but ashes and metal remained,
Of the computer I had just broke.


Time....... (Part 17)

Peter clutched his knees nervously. Waiting was such tiresome work. Tonight was the night the robbers had planned to rob the bank, and it was also the night Kevin and he hoped to escape from the thieves' den and somehow get to California. Yet even as he thought the plan over again, the nagging question of transportation would not go away. How could they get the California?
Planes were rather expensive, and how could they bring the machine on a plane with them?
He sighed. This whole plan of coming to Earth was a total mess. Yet the leader was a wise man; why would he overlook prominent problems in the creating of the plan for this mission?
The answer came to him like a flash; the leader had never been to Earth before. Problems that seemed so out in the open where problems that the leader had never had to experience before, or never knew about. But they had been observing Earth for some time, as the leader had said. Couldn't they have learned about these things from their observations?
Well, that depended on what they had been observing. They might have been taking note of its orbit around the sun, for all he knew. Yet they had come in contact with something human on Earth, for they were always harping on how stupid "Earthlings" were.
Great. So it was he who had been the problem. After all, he knew the problems and didn't mention them to anyone. Why hadn't he mentioned them? Peter kicked the grass irritably.
"I wasn't thinking about them then. I assumed the leader had everything under control, and knew what he was doing. And, I've never been in this situation before, so how could I have comprehended all the trouble I would run into?" he sighed.
But it was too late to think about what he would have done, or should have done long ago. What could he do now?
"Pete!" Kevin interrupted his friend's thoughts. "I say, Pete, what's wrong?"
"Wrong? Oh, every thing's just fine. Don't worry," Peter said hastily. A little too hastily; Kevin detected something other than carelessness in his voice, and scrunched up his brow.
"If nothing's wrong, than why are you sitting here in moody silence?" Kevin queried.
"Sorry," Peter shrugged. "I didn't want to worry you."
"Peter! I'm not a little boy! In fact, I'm older then you! Just tell me what you're worried about, and I'll see if I can help you."
"Maybe I should wait and tell you later," Peter hinted, as he saw a burly robber approaching them.
"Sure," Kevin grinned. "I like hot dogs, too. The ones from the restaurant, MacApple, were really tasty."
"Those were nothing compared to Mixers'," Peter replied, quick to see Kevin's game. The burly robber stopped in front of them.
"You boys ready for the little fun we're going to have tonight?" he chuckled in hid deep voice.
"Yeah, just about," Kevin grinned at him.
"That's good. I'm not!" the robber walked away, laughing like one who has just told a joke that they find humorous, even though no one else sees it as so.
"I'm glad he didn't stay," Kevin muttered. "I can't make a fool of myself by constantly chattering about hot dogs!"
"You're becoming a good actor, that's for sure," Peter smiled. "Do you even like hot dogs?"
"They're good. I can't wait to try pizza, though. Apparently it is very good."
"You'll try some soon enough," Peter smiled again.

The hotel was situated very neatly in the middle of NYC, directly across from a lovely row of small, neat shops. Edmund and his father had only just arrived at the place, and both agreed that it was a rather noisy street due to the traffic.
Ed unpacked his trunk and stuffed its contents into a drawer in the dresser. He gazed out the window with something not short of awe. He had been to several large cities in the past, but they never lost their thrill for him.
"I'm really tired," dad sighed. "Do you mind if I take a short nap?"
"Not at all," Ed turned from the window to smile at his dad.
"What do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't pretend to be innocent; I see your smile. You've got that look again; the look that says you would really like to ask something but you're not sure if you should," dad teased.
"Sorry. I just wanted to - to know if I could go exploring outside."
"I thought so. I guess if you don't lose sight of the hotel, you can. It is easy to get lost in a city you don't know."
"Thank you," Ed grinned. He picked up his sneakers where he had let them fall in a heap on the floor, and put them on again. "Bye, dad!"
"Bye. Be back by 6, okay? We're going to be eating dinner."
"You don't have to tell me; I won't miss dinner for anything!" Ed said cheerfully. He stuck one of the hotel keys in his wallet, placed it in his pocket, and locked the door behind him.
The air outside was thick and stifling with the exhaust of cars and the humidity of summer. Ed picked his way through the crowds, and stopped to look at every shop window and building he could find. Every now and again he looked back at the hotel in order to keep it in sight.
He was standing outside a window displaying fresh cheese party-platters, beginning to think that it would be a good time to head back to the hotel, when he felt something touch him at his side. It was not unusual to bump into someone in the crowd, but he turned towards it anyhow, and saw a figure making off with his wallet!
"Oh, great!" Ed groaned, as he felt his empty pocket. He was considering letting it go, when he remembered that the wallet had contained the hotel key, and he started running after the figure immediately. Getting back into his hotel room would have been no problem; he could simply knock on the door, and dad would let him in. But the key wasn't his. It belonged the the hotel. And supposing the wallet thief took advantage of the key and broke into the hotel? It never occurred to him that the hotel could replace the lock with a new one.
He ran on for what seemed like forever, losing and regaining sight of the thief on a regular basis. And all the while looking for policemen, but none appeared. The crowd was getting larger as time slowly went by; people were getting out of work and starting to look for places to eat at. The street was full of the sound of honking horns and squeaky brakes. Ed stopped running to catch his breath; the thief was quickly getting out of sight.
Ed groaned and glanced at his watch: 6:13. He had to get back to the hotel. He would just have to tell the hotel manager what had happened. He searched the skyline quickly for a glimpse of the hotel to get his direction. Then he realized the horrible mistake he had made in following the thief: the hotel was out of sight. And the worst thing was that in the midst of the excitement over the loss of his wallet and trying to catch the thief responsible for it, he had forgotten to take note of landmarks and directions.
He started walking towards a shop, certain of having seen it before, only to find that the store was anything but familiar as he approached it. This happened again and again, till he began to go in circles, and recognize shops merely because he had passed them while searching for something he knew.
"I knew this was a mistake!" he cried at last. Though what part of his journey had been a mistake was something he couldn't clarify. He was growing hungry and the sun was starting to set. He checked his watch again and found it to be past 8:00. He had no way of getting in contact with his dad. "Maybe I should ask for help?" he thought. But the saying "never talk to strangers" had been so drilled into his head when he was younger that he found it hard to even consider going against it. His head whirled and his legs were growing tired. He sat down on a bench outside a cozy little store and tried to think of his next action.

The robbers formed a noisy group outside by the trucks. More trucks were arriving from distant locations; the Scallions were a huge, widespread gang that came together for certain important missions. By the number of robbers here (60 going on to 90, approximately), the bank was a very rich one and the mission to it could not fail.
Peter tried to stay keep an eye on Kevin in the midst of all the activity. It wasn't an easy ordeal as the large Scallion gang was growing the whole time. He and Kevin had planned to slip out unnoticed as the gang took off. It was important that the two of them not get separated.
At last, the trucks had been loaded with tools and weapons, and the men began to climb on. Peter spotted Kevin and was making his way in that direction, when a large hand clasped his shoulder. He turned slowly around.
"Ha! Scared ya, didn't I?" Henry laughed.
"Ha, ha. Yes, you did," Peter said, trying not to show his despair. Henry would, of course, be sure that Peter was squished in on a truck somewhere. Which meant that plans of escape would be of no use. "Look, Henry, I'm feeling a little sick...." (his stomach was hurting. But that was because he was so nervous). "Do you think I could stay here tonight?"
"What? And miss the big game?" Henry slapped him on the back with a loud laugh. "No, youngster! Ya can't do that."
"Well, what if I were to get sick or something in the middle of the mission? It wouldn't be pleasant for all concerned, and it might leave evidence," Peter said desperately. He had to get out of this somehow. But did he have to lie in order to do it? No, he wasn't lying, he was sure. He could get sick with his stomach all in a knot like it was. It had happened before when he was nervous; it could happen again....
But it didn't matter whether he was sick or not; Henry was determined to have him along. Peter stopped resisting, knowing it was hopeless and might raise suspicion. He looked around for Kevin and signalled to him helplessly.
"What is it, Pete?" Kevin asked, coming up to his friend. "You look sick!"
"I feel sick, but that's not the point. My old 'friend' found me, and won't let me stay behind for anything."
"Couldn't you escape now?"
"No. He's keeping a constant watch over me. I can see him doing it. And when I can't see him, I can feel him. No, I have to go."
"Well, I guess I'll go too, then," Kevin smiled.
"No. I want you to continue with the plan," Peter remarked, to his friend's surprise.
"There's no other way, Kev. I'll have to join you later."
"But how? And what can I do alone? And why can't we just plan for another time?"
"Time, time!"Peter sighed miserably. "Something there is a severe lack of at the present! We've got to go on with our mission. And there may not be another chance for escape."
"No, listen! The machine has to be slipped out while the gang is gone. Try to get it some where away from this hideout. Then, go on with the plan and find some way to get to California. I'll try to get out of here as soon as possible; maybe even tonight after the robbery. Then I'll follow you to CA."
"No!" Kevin said suddenly. "We can't get so separated! I don't know how to get on in this dismal country without your help. And we may get so separated that we can never find eachother again, let alone the machine. The mission would be a failure then. And there would be no way of duplicating the mission, meaning Andromeda's doomed."
"But the prophecy! It can't be wrong! Andromeda will not perish."
"But Peter, you are one of the ones prophecied about; not me. Who's to say I won't be stuck on Earth for the rest of my life?"
"But who knows if I am the Sperring prophecied about?" Peter said desperatly. "I can't think of any other ways, Kevin! I've thought till my brain is dead!"
"Then it's time to use mine," Kevin grinned. "That's what I'm here for."

Copyright - 12/25/2008 - Curious Cognitive Content (CCC)
Please do not reproduce without permission from the author(ess).


Time......... (Part 16)

Note: I apologize to my readers for the slight delay in Time........, and hope to be more consistent in posting later sections throughout the Christmas break. :)

Frank paced the floor uneasily. It had been six days since Peter and Kevin left. Of course, one wouldn't expect them to build a couple time machines in anything less than a month. But the time was passing so slowly, and where had they landed on Earth? Supposing it was in a location where metal was unavailable, and the machine they were traveling couldn't be fixed? They couldn't get back, which meant that Frank would have no way of returning, and thus would be stuck in Andromeda for the rest of his life!
The thought alarmed him and he closed his eyes in prayer. The soft treading of a soldier disturbed his thoughts.
"Master Liftun," the soldier said, "I didn't want to disturb you, but I must inform you that your presence is required in the ITC."
"Thank you," Frank said with a sigh. He started walking down the tunnel now so familiar to him. He reached the gate and punched a password into the type pad. The gate did not move. "Oh, bother it all!" he cried, and gave the gate a determined kick. He heard someone in the ITC approach the door quickly and open it from the inside. It was Fromere.
"Liftun!" Fromere exclaimed. "What's up with you today?" His eyes traced the droopy figure of Frank, from the head that stared fixedly at the floor, to the feet that barely dragged along.
"Hullo, Fromere," Frank's voice droned. He lifted his head and saw everyone staring at him.
"Um, Liftun," the leader said. "I hope you aren't sick; we're going to need your help here. There's a bit of trouble coming."
"Sick? Never!" Frank said scornfully. He instantly perked up. "What sort of trouble, sir?"
"Sit down and I'll tell you," the leader motioned to a chair.
"Right. So what do you need me to do?"
"Well, the wall on the North side has been mysteriously weakened. Which points to one thing: a spy or traitor."
"Why is that?"
"The computers have been closely watched, and we have seen no signs of UMO's. And the walls of this fort were built so that the outside of them is like a hard shell -"
"Me and Peter didn't have that experience," Frank interrupted.
"You fell through a window that had been opened for fresh air," the leader said crisply. "It doesn't count."
"Oh. Sorry."
"As I was saying, the shell acts as a type of armor. The only way it can be weakened is on the inside. Thus someone or something belonging to the enemy has sneaked in and performed the task remarkably fast, over night in fact, presumably in preparation for an attack."
"And that attack may be launched at any time," Frank nodded. "I guess it will come sooner than later, though. Maybe even today."
"Why do you think they'll launch it today?" the leader smirked.
"For a number of reasons. For instance, they know that we'll find out about that wall in a relatively short period of time, and will try to attack before we can strengthen the wall again. It's that simple," Frank explained.
"Maybe too simple," the leader muttered. "The Nagars aren't idiots."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think they'd be so stupid as to weaken a wall at their own risk, right beneath our eyes? And then to attack on that very wall when they know we'll be expecting them there?"
"I don't see what your getting at," Frank furrowed his eyebrows in thought.
"I think they're more likely to stab us in the back," the leader explained. "Look, they figure that as soon as we see the damage, we'll expect them on the north side. Naturally, we'll call our forces to the north side for defense, leaving all of the south side exposed. And they'll take advantage of that."
"But they can't!" Frank cried. "The south wall is impenetrable. You have a good theory there, but I really don't think -"
"How do you know it's impenetrable, though? And what if they have a newly-developed weapon that we don't know about? They have been leaving this fort alone for a good six months. What better time could they have for creating a new weapon?"
"But I don't see...." Frank hesitated. "Is six months enough time for building something like that?"
No one answered him. Fromere shifted uncomfortably and finally stood up.
"Sir, if your theory is correct, why are we sitting here?" he said.
"I'm sorry?"
"We have to evacuate!" Frank said hurriedly.
"No." the leader said calmly. "We will not leave. Limblon is the shield to the rest of the galaxy. We can't betray our people!"
"Then we're going to sit here and be blown up?" Frank asked pointedly.
"No. We are going to fight."
"So, the Nagars fly by and blow us up and we respond with- ? It's a faulty plan, sir," Frank said.
"A half-explained plan will always sound faulty, Liftun. Let me finish! We must organize a heavier lookout. Then we can destroy the enemy before they destroy us, do you see?"
"A heavier lookout? A couple of fat guys are going to fight a whole army!" Frank said.
"Fat guys?" the leader's eyes widened. A couple of the men at the table had a sudden fit of coughing.
"Um, sir? Your orders?" Fromere grinned.
"Send out the emergency signal. Get all of the men ready, so that when the enemy is spotted, our men are on the spot almost immediately."
"Yes, sir."
"Doremat, you appoint more men to the lookout posts, but order them to remain hidden as much as possible."
"Yes, sir."
The leader gave more orders concerning weapons and provisions. The men filed out to tackle the jobs before them.
Frank looked at the leader questioningly. "Sir, is there anything for me to do?" he asked.
Yes, I want you to monitor entering and leaving persons on the computer and report anything suspicious."
"Why do you want me to do that? I mean, I'm clueless when it comes to computers!"
"You can easily figure out passwords, and -"
"I couldn't even open the gate today!"
"I have a feeling that it was because you didn't set your mind on it. Look at the job this way, that anyone who leaves may be a traitor, and everyone who enters is a spy and if you fail to report their movements, it could result in the loss of the fort and everyone in it."
"That's encouraging," Frank said sarcastically.
"It wasn't exactly supposed to be; it was a motivation," the leader replied dryly. "I've got to go make sure everything is going smoothly in preparation now."
The leader left the room, and Frank sat down at the computer with nervous jitters.

Copyright - 12/21/2008 - Curious Cognitive Content (CCC)
Please do not reproduce without permission from the author(ess).