A Little Wing as Well as a Feather...

(This was written several days ago, and sadly I had not the time to post it until now.  Enjoy some of my musings...)

Today, I have come before you to share a poem. Yes, again. This is not one of my own keenings, however--it is the wonderful poem from the most venerable and thrice-beloved books of all time (at my house, at least): On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness (henceforth referred to as OTEOTDSOD or OEDSD) by Andrew Peterson. As you can see, this is a book for the randomness lover. Even the very title promises wonderful promises. ;) The subtitle goes as follows: "Adventure. Peril. Lost Jewels. And the Fearsome Toothy Cows of Skree."

Here is a little background from the first paragraph in the book.

"The old stories tell that when the first person woke up on the first morning in the world where this tale takes place, he yawned, stretched, and said to the first thing he saw, "Well, here we are." The man's name was Dwayne, and the first thing he saw was a rock. Next to the rock, though, was a woman named Gladys, whom he would learn to get along with very well. In the many ages that followed, that first sentence was taught to children, and their children's children and their children's parents' cousins and so on until, quite by accident, all speaking creatures referred to the world around them as Aerwiar."

Anyway, I have come to share a poem from OEDSD (bless it's pages!). Tis titled 'The Carriage Comes, the Carriage Black'.


The Carriage Comes, the Carriage Black
-From "On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness"
"Lo, beyond the River Blapp
The Carriage comes, the Carriage Black
By shadowed steed with shadowed tack
And shadowed driver driving

Child, pray the Maker let you sleep
When comes the Carriage down your street
Lest all your dreams be dream of teeth,
And Carriages arriving
To wrest you from your berth and bower
In deepest night and darkest hour
Across the sea to frozen tower
Where Gnag the Nameless pounds you
At Castle Throg across the span,
A world away from kith and clan
You'll weep at how your woes began
The night the shadows bound you

Away, beyond the River Blapp,
The Carriage came, the Carriage Black
By shadowed steed with shadowed tack
The night the Carriage found you."

Scary. And yes, that name was Gnag the Nameless. To quote OEDSD, "That evil was a nameless evil, an evil whose name was Gnag the Nameless."

If you haven't already read these books you must. It is practically a required read for randomness lovers and Carroll readers. Perhaps I will post more on it later. I wrote a review--actually, twas like my first Teenage Writer review ever--some time ago. I had forgotten, however, the brilliancy of OEDSD. And be sure to check out North! Or Be Eaten. All are eloquently epic.  I only used 'eloquent', however, to promote alliteration. :)

Over and away,
Ere breaks the day.
"Good-by" I say,
For I cannot stay.

--
Jake

Luther

Yesterday, for school, I watched the movie 'Luther'.  It is, of course, a movie about Martin Luther and his life.  It's about the Ninety-Five Theses, about the selling of indulgences, and about a monk named Luther who seeks a loving God.

It was for school, as I said.  Required--I said I'd rather write.  :)  But this proved me wrong.

Joseph Fiennes stars as Martin Luther, the brilliant man of God whose defiant actions changed the world, in this epic, ravishingly beautiful film that traces Luther's extraordinary and exhilarating quest for the people's liberation. Regional princes and the powerful Church wield a fast, firm and merciless grip on 16th-century Germany. But when Martin Luther issues a shocking challenge to their authority, the people declare him their new leaderand hero. Even when threatened with violent death, Luther refuses to back down, sparkinga bloody revolution that shakes the entire continent to its core. [Taken from Amazon.com]

Luther was an amazing movie.  There is simply no words that I can use to describe it--it's a nonfiction movie that has been dramatized, but it is...well, as I said--I have not the words to describe it.

But watch this movie.  It is a moving and amazing display of faith and even now those fateful words echo in my head: "I cannot and will not recant."

Now, as for other news: my novel is over 46 thousand words.  I'm getting there, but I probably need to get off now and write. :)

Flow'sts and flying potatoes,

--
Jake

On the Upside of the Aftermath: What's Going Down?

NOTE: Much of this was written on different days. I have labeled them accordingly.


The 18th

If you didn't understand the title--well, don't worry. I didn't either. >_> There are quite a few things I do not understand about the world. Including my blog posts...it is a way I get to randome myself after a day of the world's rigorousness and rigidality. :)

Anyway, I came to tell you what is up (or down?) here in the wild worlds of Jake's imagination...so let's have a go.

Firstly, it rained (hallelujah!) this morning, and cleared up shortly afterward, leaving no clouds left in the sky--the perfect weather. Why? It gets colder during the day when it is cloudy, and colder still if it rains. It gets colder during the night if there are no clouds; yes, you heard me right. I once had the temperature go up five degrees overnight when it was cloudy... >_> <_< So that means maximum coldness for maximum happiness on my part. O.o The sooner wintertime comes, the better. No leaves to rake, no lawn to mow + snow=a happy Jake. 0.0 Ack, this algebra is getting to my head.

Speaking of the devil...I mean, *cough* algebra, I finished my Algebra 1 book, which deserves a hurrah for sure! On the downside...(or upside?) I have started my Algebra 2 book. >_<

As the title of this post says, I am on the upside (or downside?) of this aftermath...read the previous post for explanation. >_> On the bright side, another Tribe Party is being planned...and KC--where I live--is one of the possibilities. On the downside (or is it upside?) it is most likely going to take place--if it does take place--more or less a year from now. :P

And if you think the next item of interest is a poem...you are absolutely...right. Only, this isn't MY poem. It's a Bible passage...I dug it up today while doing some studying in Isaiah. Absolutely a gem--I'm going to paraphrase it and use it in my novel for sure.

"Raise the war cry, you nations, and be shattered!
Listen, all you distant lands,
Prepare for battle, and be shattered!
Prepare for battle, and be shattered!
Devise your strategy, but it will be thwarted;
Propose your plan, but it will not stand,
for God is with us." [Isaiah 8:9-10]

I'm going to look through a couple other versions before paraphrasing to get maximum effect, but tis pretty good, eh? Nothing like the Bible for epicness...unless, perhaps, tis a tribe party.

One more note on that verse: that last part of the last sentence is literally translated from Hebrew "Immanuel". Even cooler...

Also--in my novel--it is prophecy time. >_> Prophecies are always fun to write, but this one was fiendish for me to torture my character with. Particularly because it was utterly incomprehensible for him. <_< Very fun to write...though I am not entirely sure what this one section means yet. *scratches head questioningly* Well, I'll figure it sometime. ;)

Anyway, that's my two--three--no, three dozen and a half a baker's dozen--cents for today. >_> Hope to see ye all later.

The 19th

Heyo, the Jake person is back. :)

Today has been a strange cocktail of events. My math has been acting strange--but, then again, it IS math. >_>
My sister(s) (unsure how many wanted to do this, and how many drifted into doing it) rented a Barbie movie from Redbox. Undoubtedly the worst one-dollar investment they have ever made--but, hey, it gave me time to write. :)

On the upside (downside?) of things...my novel is going superbly. I have written many words--my count is now hovering just below 45,000. Hooray! Now, prophecies are being fulfilled, and the end is in sight: but I still have to get my protagonist through a couple of confusing events, collect the dracos for war, and then march off to a huge battle and rescue his mother. >_> I am anticipating to have the battle go on fairly long...and have a star appearance from...*cue applause* the EVIL ONE! *claps halfheartedly*
Oh, yeah: and did I mention I figuratively resurrected a major character? Woot. >_> He actually never died...but it still counts as a resurrection.

Also, to end with [Poeticisms], I have conducted a spoof of one of my poems. Observe the following verse:

"Darkness and light meet thundrous crash,
And through the carnage fly,
Dragons fierce, storm and smash,
Dragons live and dragons die."

Pretty epic...but this may be epicer. ^_^

"Darkness and light meet thundrous crash,
Dragons live and dragons die,
And then with a terrible smash,
Dragons poke me in the eye."

Done for today's wackiness. Check y'all later.
The 20th
Ack. Have I mentioned lately that math is terrible? >_>

On the upside (or is it downside?) my novel is now some hundred or so words above 45,000. I can feel the end approaching. Tis rather scary...O.o I am anticipating an epic battle soon--and I LOVE epic battles...because they are epic. >_>

But I had a part where I briefly considered finishing Sadaar and making a whole 'nother novel about the epic battle and the events afterward...but I decided against it. I simply did not have enough plot. But the last bit of the chapter DOES sound like the end of a novel.

"He began his story as a storyteller would; beginning with beginnings. "Over a year ago, I woke up one morning. Little did I know that that very day would change me and my course in life forever..."
"And so he told his story, the story of Sadaar."

Almost made me want to stop the novel then and there--it is a good ending. :) It reinforces the title, and it makes the reader feel 'déjà vu' >_> I need to be thinking up of good endings like that, however.

The 21st
This afternoon, when musing over some excellent novels I have been reading (one of them being Isle of Fire) I am almost completely sure I have struck on the solution and remedy for this lack of words two of my three novels have.

POV. I have but one POV in my novels: in my first, the point of view is Shad (except in the prologue), in my second, the POV is Jacesm (though this is in first person), and in my third, the POV is Aron. Each of these has but one POV--though two of the three are in third person.
Now, there is one story, and one storyteller in these novels. Think about this. If there were still the same story, but two storytellers, wouldn't the story be twice as long? Perhaps. But this may work out for a longer novel for me.... >_> Just so you know, Sadaar is longer because it has a long plot--exceedingly so. I go over the course of a year or two--which is one reason why Bryan Davis's book 'The Bones of Makaidos' is so big and fat. :) It goes over a long time as well as a lot of plot--and it has many POVs as well.
Today, the 22nd

Ah, today is Friday: a good day indeed. Fridays, after Thursdays (perhaps equaling them) are my favorite days of the week. ^_^ Very good days...

As for today--alas, I have not written in my novel. :P I really should write some more--I am getting close to the end and even closer to November: and NaNoWriMo. Nine days until NaNoWriMo--I need to finish my novel before then.

Ack, I might as well start on my Math early...as this is written at 9:10 A.M. >_<  Well, here I go...perhaps I shall write more in this post before the day is over...

...or perhaps not.

Other things?  I read Millard's post on the Tribe Party.  If ye wish to hear my thoughts on the matter, check out the comments.  I posted a lengthy one.

That is all for today.  Checking out.

--
Jake

Aftermath

The epic tribe party is over.

For those of you who don't know what the Tribe Party was, here's a summary.

For WTB and CH's book, COTSK, there was a thing they called a 'Tribe-Building Contest' where people made tribes and earned Vanadils for them. The winner of the Tribe contest--the tribe that ended with the most Vanadils--would get a variety of prizes, foremost among them a private party with both authors.

Nightwing won that contest last time, and so they got a private party. But before this, a public party--all tribes invited--was planned. Elves from the Underground forum--Swiftstormers, Silvertreers, and Nightwingers alike, to name a few tribes--were invited.

I was unable to go, as it was in Illinois.

The Tribe Party was yesterday at 2:00 central time. They set it up so that Elves that were unable to come--like me and several other people--would be able to watch it live and chat on the sidebar.

It was, in short, amazing.

WTB and CH sparred with swords, arguing all the time over heroic hair styles ("You must actually have hair in order to style it!" was one of Mr. Batson's remarks to bald Mr. Hopper). Afterwards, several readings took place, as well as a bagpipe serenade.

But the best part of the party was when Elves came up and introduced themselves to the screen. Whisper, Hark, Millard, Silver Angel, Goldarrow, Anduril--all introduced themselves. Wow...

The coolest thing? If you were unable--or didn't know that there was a party going on--to get to the streaming, it's recorded here. All of it; the entire hour.

And now I am still among the aftermath--perhaps I can go to the next Party. Ah, well...

Until next time.

E&V!

--
Jake

[Poeticisms]

What would happen...if I blogged poetry?
But the real problem is...I can't rhyme with poetry.

Yup, tis time for another randomness post.  Straight from Jake's imagination: I'm writing this at 11:00-11:30 PM central time.  But really--don't try to rhyme with the word 'poetry' with anything.  *grimaces*  It doesn't work out...the choices are unsavory. :P

So, anyway: this post shall be rather long.  If you wish to endure it, test your courage and read this post.  There are only two results: you either like it...or die.  Or you could be nonchalant about it... >_>

Recently I have been thinking about smiley faces.  I have been taking a turn for the olde classe "Underground" smileys...
Anyway, back to poeticisms.

I once saw a man who ate a van,
He gave a roar and ate a store,
Can he eat the world?
Believe me, he can!

This, of course, is random poetry.  A great genre of poetry established by Lewis Carroll, I believe.  With poems like 'Jabberwocky' included.

Now...Hm.  What to say, what to do?

Ah!  *lighbulb*  I shall get to something I have been trying to do for a while.  I am going to formally interview my character Aron.  The idea has been politely purloined from Squeaks' illustrious blog.

Now, before I get started, here is a little background info on Aron.

He is...well, that's plot I can't tell you about.  Wild hair--inherited from his father Shad.  He is a nice guy...but he may be a little dazzled when he comes to be interview.  I won't be held responsible for whatever he might say...O.o

Anyway, on to the interview!

--

ARON: *poof* What in the world--?

ME: Hey, Aron!  Welcome to my blog.  I'm currently writing a book about you, called Sadaar.

ARON: *looks around*  *eyes dart back and forth*  Where am I?  What is this place?  I thought I was at the Last Summons!  They were about to make a--

ME: Whoa, whoa, hold it.  That's confidential plot, buddy.  Best to keep quiet about your life in general.

ARON: *is confused*  Then why are you interviewing me?

ME: *is puzzled as well*  Well...how about a question?  Ask me anything, friend.   After all, I know everything about who you are and what you've done and are going to do.

ARON: You mean you wrote me?

ME: Well, yes.  But ask another question, we need to keep things interes--

ARON: But only Saar can make things.  Only He is omnipresent.

ME: Well...

ARON:  You realize you are claiming that you are equal to Saar when you say--

ME: *hurriedly interrupts*  We'll talk about this later.   Ask a different question.

ARON: Why did you kill my father??


ME: *is flustered* Whoa, wait just a second.  First, I didn't...uh, this is another "talk later" question.  *quickly marks out question*

ARON: *crosses arms*  I need to know now.

ME:  Now, now, don't get hasty.  I told you, we'll talk about this later.

ARON: But--

ME:  No buts!

ARON:  I'm leaving.

ME: No, you aren't.  I control who leaves and and who doesn't leave!  I'm the author, remember?

ARON: There you go again!  There's only one Author.  And you aren't Him.

ME:  Wait just a moment!  You can't leave!  I didn't say you could!

ARON: *poofs*

ME: *sigh*

--

Epic fail.  On to the next poem, folks.  :)  (By the way, how do you pronounce 'folks'?  I pronounce it with the 'l' silent.  :) )

Math problems, science test,
School, school, school!
Economics is a hornet's nest,
School, school, school!

And with that, Jake is out of the building, taking his dangerous randomness with him.  I wish you a fond night and delightful dreams.

NOTE: If you are wondering about my sanity level, please read this poem:

"Math, math, hurts my head,

It invades my dreams,

It disturbs my bed,

My insanity, it seems,

Is bursting at the seams!

Algebra, though, is even better,

It bashes my mind,

Making swim the letter,

And now I'm in a bind;

It invades my mind, I find.

Out goes memory fine!

Out flies my sanity thin!

I don't want ye to think I whine,

But like a shark reveals its fin,

I find my mind is caving in!

Out flies my mind, beaten,

Blowing up in glorious flash

Math, it seems, has finally eaten,

Math, is seems, has finally smashed,

My mind, which has finally crashed.

It's nice, however, to finally see,

The sky above my eyes,

My mind is finally free,

Free from Math's evil spies,

Free from Algebra's cries.

The only thing missing (besides my vanity)

That one thing that now useless seems,

My finally broken sanity;

Wild and adventurous roving dreams,

Have finally broken Sanity's seams."

--
Jake

ALERT! New Blogger Alert!

Whisper the Spy has finally joined the blogosphere!  *wild clapping and confetti!!*

As far as she has posted, her blog Jabberwocky promises to be a gem.

For those of you who do not know, Whisper is most commonly found on the Underground, where she is a fellow administrator (Sentinel).   Here is how she describes herself in her profile:

"I am an intergalactic spy/knight/ambassador; leader of an army of invisible duck spies and arch rival of Hatshepsut and her Aztec warriors. I love chess, raspberries, caverns, blue, editing, and Lewis Carroll. I love coffee ice cream and good pirate novels and winter and Ancient Rome and creeks. I hope you find me amusing."

So here is your task; check out this blog!  If I know whisper at all, it will turn out to be an amazing blog.

There was one post in particular that had me rolling on the floor laughing.  You can find it here. 

Until next time!

--
Jake

The Unveiling of the Flow'st

Yes, the flow'st is back.  :)  I was rather restless, and POOF!  the flow'st popped up in a poem again. 

This time, I'm going to share the meaning of a flow'st.  Gather 'round folks--we're going to unveil the flow'st.

A flow'st is...what you call a word when you don't know the meaning of it.  O.o   It is an all purpose word, really.  You use it in the same way when you say 'supercalifragilisticexpeallidocious' (yes, I can spell it!); you use it when you don't really know what to say.  A better and more literal definition would be; "A word that personifies randomness; a meaningless word that is used in place of meaningful words." It's a rather strange definition, I know; but the flow'st will always be a mystery.  Always...

Anyway, here's another poem I cooked up.  Pardon if it is a little less lighthearted than the last--things never seem to happen the same way twice, and the flow'st is no exception.


There Echoes Now



There echoes now a call to care,
There echoes now to darkness tear,
Can it be found, O now O where?
A lingering call to care?

Why in the world dost thou care?
That flow'st from here to there?
Tisn't the same, no sanity now;
That flow'st from here to there.

Not a care, nay, not a care;
Not a cheesed dollar to spare,
The flow'st dost flow from here to there;
With naught but a dollar to spare.

Darkening music with no happiness there;
Not an ounce, not a note to spare,
Fleeing on without a care,
The cat loses its hair.

Shriek and shrink; they make a pair,
Not a nice one, not quite fair,
That flow'st shall call from here to there,
And all shall stop to stare.

And echoes now from deep places fair,
A call of pain, a call of care,
It calls out from deep places there,
It echoes out so painfully fair;

"I said to him, and he to me,
That I had gone and ate a tree,
The flow'st upon a midnight three,
And caused the cat to flee."

Painfully it lingers there,
Painfully, wondrously fair,
And all the world wonders there,
The flow'st upon that midnight fair.

--
Jake

Holidays and Writing

Today is a holiday.  My birthday.  Actually, it's Columbus day in the US...but let's just pretend it WAS a holiday.

My mom let me off of school for the entire day--and with a bar of dark chocolate--and do you know what I decided to do?

Watch a movie?  Nope.

Play video games?  Nada.

Eat Cheez-Its all day?  Not that, either.

Think of me...think.

Can you guess what I did?

I wrote.

Yes, I wrote for my birthday.  I wrote in my novel--on my birthday.  I wrote ALL DAY LONG.

I'm still writing, but as of right now I have written 5,000 words.  Whoa!!  I went on a writing spree.  Write, write, write!!!

And the coolest thing is--I absolutely enjoyed it.  I spent the entire day writing, and I loved every moment of it.  I love writing--plain and simple.

So, in celebration of my high-er word count, as well as my birthday (and my friend Aaron's birthday; yes, we share a birthday!), I am going to post a recent excerpt from my novel Sadaar.  :)

Oh, and I'm booming TFK (Welcome to the Masquerade) while writing this; so pardon the high-intensity random stuffs.  :)  I'm choosing an interesting section....

*TFK echoes in the background*

From the chapter "Sons of Drakos".  Unedited glory, so enjoy. :)

--


A voice interrupted his slumber. "And who might you be, boy?"

Aron awoke suddenly, and quickly stood up.

A dragon faced him. Flaming crimson scales, sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, graced his form, and white fangs jutted out from his jaw.

And yet, it seemed different than the paintings Aron had seen in Aleorendos. The jaw and snout of the dragon was more delicate, and the body was thinner and less burly than Aron had been led to believe. It had straight spines on the crest of its head, unlike any of the dragons drawn in various places Aron had seen before.

"You...you're a dragon," Aron ventured.

The dragon snorted. "You aren't a very smart human, are you? And you can understand me--something someone has never done before. When the prophesied human finally comes, he turns out to be a dimwit."

This stung. "Why do you consider me to be so stupid, dragon?" Aron asked.

The dragon rolled its eyes. "First of all, prophesied one, I am not a dragon. I am I draco."

"What's the difference?"

The dragon sighed, and then recited lines that sounded suspiciously like a child's rhyme.

"There once lived Drakos, long ago,

The First Dragon, who had two children,

One was master of elements; the draco,

And the other a fiery beast; the dragon.

"As you can see, human, dragons and dracos are two different things. You are accustomed to dragons. Dracos are different things altogether, though our kin and I share a forefather. There are four kinds of dracos; Firedrake, Waterdrake, Earthdrake, and Airdrake. Each is a master of their respective elements."

Aron quietly drank in this information. "So you are a Firedrake, then?"

The draco raised an eyebrow. "I see you have not entirely deserted your sense, prophesied one."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Unless you have more powers than the average human, I would not expect you to know about draco legend. I shall tell you, then."

"Wait," Aron said. "You mean, prophecy is coming to life in front of you, and you treat it like it is an everyday experience! Usually people in old stories are all shocked and everything when..." Aron's voice trailed off. Wow, that sounded dumb...

The firedrake snorted. "Do you take me for a petty human out of an old story? Real life works differently. Do you expect me to disbelieve my elders? The prophet said that it would come true. If it was Saar's prophecy, then it shall come true. It is not my place to disbelieve."

"So you believe in Saar?"

The draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes. Do you want me to tell you about the prophecy or not, human?"

Aron decided to shut his mouth. "Yes, yes, go ahead."

The firedrake cleared his throat. "Hundreds of years ago, the draco Prophet Sharddë said that a person would come, years into the future, a man unlike other men." Here he gave a pointed glance at Aron. "He would come, and be able to understand us, for no other humans can. To them, they hear growls, hissing, for they have not the ability nor the gift to speak to us. But more, they do not have the faith in Saar to hear us.

"He said that from him, Saar would do a great work. Through him, we would be introduced into the world again, and not be hunted like beasts like in the ages long past. We would be one with Saar's people, and we would again speak to our brethren, the dragons."

The draco turned gazed at Aron. The crimson-rimmed irises bore deep into his heart, his soul. "And from him shall come Saar's Anointed One, from the his line."

Aron felt his heart pound. It was the exact words from Kedus' prophecy, that one that burned into his memory like a flaming iron in his heart.

The firedrake spoke again. "Welcome to these lands, the land of Addewyd. My name is Firescale, promised one."

"Greetings, Firescale," Aron said haltingly. "My name is Aron, son of Shad. I am honored to meet you, and honored to come to Addewyd. I hope that, if I am the one spoken of, that I might live up to its prophecy."

"You are," Firescale rumbled. "I can feel it in my scales, in my bones, in my heart. You and I shall know each other well, before this is over."

"Before what is over?" Aron asked.

Firescale turned his eyes on Aron once more, drilling them deep into Aron's face. "It is also prophesied that the greatest war of this age will take place when the prophesied one comes, one in which nations far and wide shall take part in. A war like none other."

Chills ran up and down Aron's spine. The pieces were in place, he knew. Aleorendos was going to attack Paladain, and when they did, a war like none other would take place. The board was set. The game--the gamble--for the lives of both sides was beginning.

---

Ooh...perhaps it is a wee bit serious.  :)   Now it's Skillet singing...

Well, I should probably go before I drown you in a sea of midnight randomness....ooh, poetic...

--

Jake

Strange Happenings

Today is 10/10/10.  In fact, at 10:10 a.m. and ten seconds this morning (and it will happen again at ten tonight) the date will read (from seconds to years), 10 sec. 10:10 on 10/10/10.  Woha! :)

So this makes today a day of strange happenings.  At current, such things as these are happening: tropical trees bloom in my living room, my dog is getting itchy, the tree in the backyard is turning red, and my procrastination regarding writing is getting annoying.

As for other happenings, I learned about an interesting idea for a Bible translation in church today.

Turns out, we speakers of the English language have a problem--You.

What?  Oh, did you think I said that YOU were the problem?  LOL!  No, I mean that the word 'you' is a problem.  In the Bible there are different Greek words that are both translated 'you'.  One is plural, and one is not.  The word 'you' in English covers both.

Now, take a look at this: I am reading the Bible.  "You are the light of the world," it says.  Wow!  Look at that.  I am the light of the world.  Yep.  Feelin' good about myself!

That, of course, is NOT what it means.  But, hey; it said 'you'.

But that's a problem we're stuck with.

But the Texans--well, that's a different story.  They have it figured out.

You see, the whole idea about this special translation of the Bible (which has yet to be made)--is a great idea.  It's called the 'TNIV'; Texan's New International Version.

Now, here's the TNIV translation of that same verse.

"Ya'll are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.

"Y'all are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house."

Heh heh.  :)  I hoped ye enjoyed that. 

Well, my musings for today has ended.  

Over and out;

--

Jake

New Header...of Books

Yes, my header has been improved and updated!  It's bigger, better--and it has a lot more of my better books--On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, Venom and Song, Kestrel's Midnight Song, etc.  :) 

I also corrected the 'thoughs' from the last header (it was supposed to be 'thoughts'), and added 'writer' to the title--as well as changed it to 'eighth grader'.  :)

So what do you think of it?  Better?  Worse?  Should I change the theme altogether?

--
Jake

Weird Poetry, Apologies, and Complaints

Yes, the above title said, 'Complaints'.  I'm not going to whine to you guys--but I really don't like the warm turn the Kansas weather took. :P  Ah, well...I can't help it.

Now, as for apologies--yes, I haven't posted in over a week on here.  It is utterly shameful and I have no excuses.  :)  I'll try to warn you before I take a leave of my blog, next time.

I was reading a section out of Alice in Wonderland for school yesterday (I had read 'Alice' some time before of my own accord), and I was again dazzled by Carroll's wonderful randomness and hilarity.  This morning--in protest of my math--I wrote this bit of nonsense.  It was inspired by Alice in Wonderland--quite catchy, if I say so myself.  I've been humming it under my breath all day.


The Flow'st Upon a Midnight


I said to him, and he to me,
That I had gone and ate a tree,
The flow'st upon a midnight three,
And caused the cat to flee.

Upon a straw, upon a star,
I wished my feet would fight them far,
Around a moon, around a car,
I golfed my way to par.

I bought an egg, so dearly bought,
On the spoon the battle twas fought,
But alas and alack, twas all for nought!
A slimy fish I caught.

That twas when I said to him,
"Take my car out for a spin,"
In danger false and danger grim,
The old man gave a grin.
I said to him, and he to we,
That I had gone and found a flea
The flow'st upon a midnight tea,
And caused the gnat to see.

Why and fly I spun my lie,
And on that manger-place did cry,
"A spy, my lord! That spy!"
And took away my pie.
Then I coughed, and came out smog,
Covered the roof--and then the dog,
"Woof and meow," cried the frog,
And I called down a smelly bog.

Take a nap--take a wink,
This will go on, I think,
Over bath and under sink,
I hear a little plink.

Secret poem--yes, it be!
Secret straight from you to me.
Read it backwards, and you will see,
Read it forwards and so will we.
I said to him, and he to three,
That I had gone and ate a flea,
The flow'st upon the midnight me,
And saw the reader, see.


Before you ask, I have no idea what a flow'st is.   That's the price I pay for random poetry.

--
Jake