Boring Title

I am suddenly aware of a very sad trend in my recent posts. None of them are particularly happy or lighthearted. I see sad posts, long posts, crazy posts, boring posts - but no posts in which I happily ramble like a sick duck.

Maybe this is because I am attempting to be cold and professional like a fish, and have regarded it my duty to state things accurately and clearly. But now I am wondering, who reads blogs now anyways? A blog, I think, is mostly fun for the author, who can post things on it and grin proudly every time they see their blog glaring down at them from the computer screen. Everyone else glances at it quickly and wonders why they just wasted 5 seconds of their precious time.

Thus said, I could post anything I wanted on here, no matter how absurd, for no one would read a post that had an icy picture and a boring title. In fact, I almost regret not having some astonishing secret to share with the world (or in this case, the small cluster of my smiling fans that I have created in my imagination), to reward whoever was trying so hard to procrastinate their work, or else were so extremely bored with their interesting television shows and fiction books, that they bothered to read this post....

Oh, and while I am at it, I might as well mention a more recent feature residing at the end of my posts. It is called "Reactions" and I think it is for people used to Facebook's "like" buttons. Instead of leaving a nice comment, you can click a button: happy, sad, interesting, or funny - and the nice part of it is, your name will not be attached, so I will not know who clicked "sad" when I write about my nice new pink bunny slippers, nor will I know who clicked "happy" when I write an eulogy to my dead, pet parrot Penelope.

Disclaimer: I do not have a parrot. Nor do I own pink bunny slippers. I think I will click "sad" the day I write about those.

CT

I am in Connecticut again. I like to visit this state, because it is beautiful along the coast, with lots of beaches and boats and bridges. Spring comes earlier here than it does back home, although there was a light dusting (maybe one inch) of snow on the ground this morning. When walking down the road, one sees green grass beginning to peek out and crocuses and other early flowers are already dotting the gardens of several yards. Oh, there is one more reason why I like Connecticut - my sister lives here.

She has a happy little apartment in a complex, and me and my brother, Clevard, have been staying with her this week. My family strictly charged me to blog about my adventures here and post lots of pictures, but unfortunately I left my USB cable at home, so they will have to suffer a plain narrative with no colorful pictures to make it palatable.

As it turns out, that is probably alright. Because one of our adventures is really not something one wants to see pictures of. There is a toilet in my sister's bathroom, like most bathrooms. And this toilet decided that it would be plugged and stay plugged for a couple days, and every time we attempted to flush it, we would end up with disgusting water all over the floor.

So there I am, trying desperately to use a plunger, my socks soaked with the dirty water on the floor, and nothing seemed to be working. That is when I did what any other silly girl would have done - I cried. My sister eventually fixed the toilet and went running around the house, yelling about how she was the "Toilet Unplugging Expert Genius" and accusing my brother of being jealous of the title. She succeeded in cheering me up.

Happily, most of our time has been much more enjoyable. We went on a windy walk and breathed in the spring air, and saw tiny delicate leaves opening on the very tips of trees, and the hard brown ground yielding to the spongy grass. I wake up every morning to hear song birds, and I walk out in the parking lot and hear the distant roar of a train, its loud horn echoing throughout the neighborhood, warning people of its coming. It reminds me of a train track running along the river side that I used to hop around at my grandparents old house, and I still remember the rush of the wind as a train whizzed only a yard from my face.

In the meantime, I am working on calculus and watching an old 70's TV show about the Hardy Boys, which I find highly amusing. I have also been checking the news frequently for any scrap of information on the war we recently rushed into blindly. I am not exactly sure what is going on with that, but I do not think I am the only one feeling clueless right now.

And that has been my week! I am having a wonderful trip but I miss home, and I can not wait to see our woods begin to blossom as the trees in CT have done. I will see two springs this year, and what could possibly be wrong with that?

Theo's Thesis 3

And finally.... THEO'S THESIS!!! 

If you have no idea what I am talking about, then I apologize for putting section 3 up so late, and you can go here for previous sections; newest sections on top, oldest on the bottom. Enjoy!

Aaron settled down in the corner of the office and tapped a beat on the floor with his foot. When he tired of this, he counted the cracks in the wall. It was then that his eyes lighted upon a car magazine, which was soon on his lap and remained there for a while.

Theo, in the meantime, was oblivious to Aaron's irritated noise-making, for he had discovered another problem with his data. Although the papers by Dr. Collins were continually consistent, they ran in direct opposition to those of one of the Doctor's colleagues. To be sure, Dr. Leia Martin was not well-known and her works were hard to find, but nevertheless, they explicitly explained the experimental process Martin had used to reach her conclusion, and it was a reasonable process....

Who was right? Theo could only figure out by running an experiment himself, and as it was ,he was already behind schedule. He considered accepting Dr. Collins' work and getting on with his own work, but his conscience forbade it. He wanted the truth.

His computer beeped at him, and he checked his inbox eagerly. There was an email from his former advisor, in response to Theo's questions.

“Theo Quasar, I was surprised to get your note. As far as I know, the papers by Dr. Arlen B. Collins are completely trustworthy. Dr. Collins himself is a widely renowned biologist, whose works are popular reading assignments for biology students in universities across the country....”

The rest of the email was a blur before Theo's eyes. Dr. Collins had to be right. His work was accurate. But what if it wasn't?

“Theo?” Aaron piped up, putting aside the car magazine with a sigh. “I'm trying to be quiet, but don't you think we should get dinner now? I'm really hungry!”

Theo glanced at the clock and smiled. “I guess now is about as good a time as any to start eating. I forgot about dinner, actually.”

“Forgot...dinner?” Aaron repeated in disbelief. “How could anyone forget dinner?”

“I suppose it is a very hard thing to comprehend when you're ten,” Theo laughed. “What do you want to eat?”

“Hamburgers!” Aaron jumped up and down.

“We can probably find a few at the restaurant down the street. Let me just pack up my work.” Theo shoved several papers into his back-pack and put his laptop to sleep.

“My dad doesn't have a back-pack. He has a briefcase. I think mom bought him the briefcase because it matched his shoes or something, and she hid his back-pack away. Dad doesn't know, but I found it in the corner of the coat closet, up on one of the shelves,” Aaron laughed.

“Ah, but a back-pack can hold so much more,” Theo said. He pulled his coat out of it and put it on. Aaron looked at him skeptically.

“Isn't that what a coat hangar's for?”

“Why bother? My backpack works just as well.”

“No, it wrinkles things,” Aaron said.

“That's why I carry an iron,” Theo said, whipping an iron out of his backpack. 

 

Theo flopped down on his bed, his stomach hurting from the greasy hamburger he had consumed for dinner. He was used to nice bland food, like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He was just beginning to consider his work again when Aaron called from the living room.

“Theo! What time is it?” Aaron asked, looking small as he lay beneath a sea of red race cars dotting his comforter.

“It's only 10. Why?”

“What time is it Florida?”

“I don't know.”

“Theo, I miss mom and dad. Do you think they'll call?”

“I expect so. Try to get some sleep. I have to bring you into school tomorrow.” Theo went back into his bedroom and lay down again. But this time, he wasn't contemplating his work....

The door had been left ajar, and through the crack, Theo could see the light of the hall shifting in. He rolled over onto his stomach and stared out the window at the beautiful, starry sky. The dark, grey clouds were swirling like ghosts around a bright, silvery moon, and he was sure that one of the ghostly forms was that of a ship, sailing on a sea.

A loud noise from downstairs startled him and he sat up in bed to listen. It was his parents arguing. The arguments had grown more regular lately. It had started from an occasional thing and gradually become a weekly occurrence. Now, he could hear them every night when they thought he was asleep. He covered his ears to drown out the noise and felt a hot tear stream down his face. He tried desperately to swallow back his tears, but they kept on coming. He was angry with himself, for at ten years old, he was almost a man, and men don't cry.

Even though it was no surprise to him when his parents announced their divorce the next day, the news didn't hurt any less. He loved his parents and he could remember when they had been happy together. He could see the Christmas tree all lighted up, and his mom and dad laughing together as he tore open his presents eagerly.

It hurt still more when his dad left a week later, never to return. Their home would never be the same, and the last thing Theo heard about his dad was that he had a girlfriend and had moved to California.

“Mom, what time is it in California?”

“I don't know,” mom said, although Theo could tell that the real reason for her answer was that she didn't want to know.

“I wish dad was here. Do you think he'll call?”

“I wouldn't count on it.”

(C) Copyright Curious Cognitive Content (CCC) - March 17, 2011

Thoughts on Japan

March 11, 2011

The news has been ablaze with reports of the devastation in Japan after an earthquake of magnitude 8.9 occurred just off the shore of Japan, earning it a place among the top five most violent earthquakes on record worldwide. Violent aftershocks, with magnitudes reportedly as large as 7.4, shook the islands, and a massive tsunami washed Japan's shores and caused evacuations along the North and South American west coasts.

On March 12, the outer structure of Unit 1 in the Fukushima I Nuclear Power Plant experienced an explosion that triggered fear of radioactive contamination. Although the reactor itself remained intact, it appeared to be functioning at abnormal levels due to lack of proper cooling, and residents were quickly evacuated from the area. Soon afterwards, the other reactors in the nuclear plant showed signs of overheating. There have been more explosions, exposures to radioactivity among plant employees and health-workers, and growing concern that the disaster will prove as tragic as that of Chernobyl.

Besides nuclear concerns and causalities, there have been reports of up to four missing trains, and thousands of people missing in various coastal towns. In one shocking report, it was estimated that up to 9,500 people in a town with a population of 17,000 were missing.

This tragedy is unspeakable.... And for all we know, it may get worse. It has gotten worse. Even if the calamity were to stop making news now, and no more casualties were to be had, the calamity would continue for many years. Many people have lost everything - families, friends, homes, possessions - and the rebuilding and healing of Japan will be a long, sad process.

I am calling on my fellow Christians to pray for Japan - to pray that this tragedy would not be in vain - to pray that the heartbreak and insecurity of all those involved would be used by God to bring them to an understanding of the Love of the Savior, and to find security and refuge in Him.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling." Psalm 46:1-3