God is Pro-Choice: The Garden, Sin, and the Unborn
 On my way home from school today, I drove behind a car with a bumper sticker that read "God is Pro-Life." Now, at first one might consider this statement typical right-wing Bible-thumping prosleytizing, but upon further thought, I found it to be quite thought-provoking. What would be Yahweh's own thoughts on the subject of abortion? Would he indeed be Pro-Life? A fence-sitter like Jesus on the subject of euthannasia in South Park? Or, and I know there are people reading this who would shudder at the thought, a Pro-Choice supporter?

I am no theologist, certainly, but I felt my knowledge of Christian literature (or rather, the internet's) was adequate enough to answer this question. My first thoughts rested on whether abortion was really a "sin." Now, Psalm 139, verse 13 states

"For you, God, created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb." 

I feel this passage states that even in the womb, fetuses are God's creations, and one would assume that destroying a creation of God would be a sin, but for consistency's sake I will back that up with 1 Corinthians 3, verses 16-17:

"Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple."

So this establishes that abortion, even with a rather liberal interpretation of the Bible, is indeed a sin. This begs the second question: What would God's position be? Most would conclude here that God abhors sin and therefore would instantly condemn abortion, but first I find it prudent to look at another example of God's position on man sinning: The Garden of Eden.

Now, the Bible's garden of Eden is an Elysian dream- smelling sweet and its nhabitants tasting sweeter. However, there was one caveat- when Jehovah made Adam, he said to him n Genesis 2 verse 16,

"You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die."

Now, if yo think about the predicament Adam was in, you can see that God was simply testing him. Why put a tree in a garden and then tell the only man in it not to eat it? What about that free will thing that God so kindly blessed man with? Well Adam used it, and ate the apple when Eve proffered it, and was cast from the Garden forever.

The Garden of Eden incident is a major unveiling of God's attitude towards man's sin. Yes, he punishes it, but God allows man to sin. He will not take steps in order to prevent it. He did not remove the tree or sap Adam's will or curiosity, or foretell of Eve' seduction. We can apply this lesson to the pro-life/pro-choice debate. God, seeing abortion as a sin, as he did eating the apple, would not command man to detest its practice, only that punishment may await if they partake in it. God is pro-choice. He allows man to make his own decisions.

Note that this does not prove whether God supports abortion. It was just a fun brain exercise for me. Thank you for reading.

Awesomeness. Another school thing.
Nobody is quite as awesome as I am.*  In fact, I just might be the most awesome person on the planet.  I think I can fill up an entire book with descriptions of how awesome I am.  But that kind of awesome packed into just some pieces of paper would spontaneously combust, because that level of awesomeness cannot be contained.  So beware, your computer monitor might burst into flames as you read this.

Awesomeness is a hard word to pin down.  Dictionary.com defines "awesomeness" as "inspiring awe."  But then again, Dictionary.com has no entry for "Chuck Norris."  Therefore, Dicitonary.com knows NOTHING.  I, however, define awesomeness as "being incredibly cool, attractive, talented, and having good taste, all rolled into one smooth six foot one package."  For an example of how awesome I am, a particular two-year old in my house was giving me some lip.  I opened up the oven, and put a cookie inside.  The two-year-old, not having my ridiculously awesome perceptive skills, could not see this as an obvious trap, and promptyl entered the oven.  The only thing seperating me from a quant veal dinner that evening was a sudden outbreak of well-being for my fellow man, showing the humanitarian in me, and we all know that humanitarians get all the chicks, and getting chicks is awesome.  Perfect fit for me!  

This little ditty also explores my ludicrously awesome taste in food.  Children are awesome to eat because they've only known the good life.  They get toys, naps, whatever they want!  There's no stress to make the meat stringy, and besides, you're taking away from world hunger in two ways-there's one less mouth to feed, and you're less hungry when ythe baby'sdone cookin'!  Such an awesome idea could only be thought of someone as awesome as me.  So what are you waiting for?  Start bowing!

*If you read closely in this essay, you'll also note my simply ridiculous powers of sarcasm, sublety, hyperbole, and slight, slight exaggeration.


(no subject)
 I miss you. I treasure every second we talk, every smile you give me, every time your hand winds into mine.

I miss you.  Hearing your voice, muffled by my chest, professing your love, is worth all the world and everything in it.

I miss you.  My skin begs for the caress of yours, and my heart aches for yor beloved whispers.

I miss you.  Your embrace makes me feel whole, for my heart is always with you.

I miss you.  Your kiss sends rivers of warmth through my lips, your voice gifts my ears with angels.

I love you.  You're all that I could ever want, all that I could ever need.  Nothing can match my passion for you.  I will always be yours, till my heart slows and stops.

I love you.

Random thoughts.
 Fuck yeah, I'm going to pull some stream-of-consciousness shit right here.

Let's go.  The world is wispy, isn't it?  It's almost as if the collective powers that be decided transparency was a better fit for reality than whatever it was they were going to put in its place.  Chaos isn't going to do much more for versimilitude, though, so perhaps it's best that the sideways corridors of the mind and ether are seemingly hollow and ethereal.  Death's just a passage into the unseen left and rights of those twisting halls, so perhaps the afterlife isn't much more solidified as life.  What's up witht the word "afterlife," anyways?  It implies "prelife."  Are these things the same?  Whatever.  Life is pretty great right now.  I think I'll stay a while.

Remind me to never do this again, this shit was crazy.

Chicago-style poem. School thing.
 The Woods

Bug-infested Jungle.

Hole-in-the-wall, graveyard of trees,

The pit of society and the vandal’s hideout

Creeping, crawling, slithering,

Shady in more ways than one.

I hear whispers of unsavoriness, and I agree with them,

For I have seen the filth under the leaves.

Accusers speak of delinquency and I concr,

For I have seen the rebel take shelter in the copse.

Naysayers point and cry blasphemy, and I see it as they do,

For I have seen the devil in the idle hand. 

Having shared my sights, I face those who would incite at this,

My place of repose, and I face them with this:

Show me a forest more verdant,

more beautiful and tender and vibrant,

An outpost of leaf and vine

Amongst the mire of suburbia.

Serene, in its moments, as a

Newborn, with all the potential such an infant carries.








Ascending once more,

Beneath the canopy, flowers coating the earth,

Breathing sweet ease.

Under the romance of summer days to be fulfilled,

Holding memories yet to be born,

Eternal, Bug-infested Jungle, hole-in-the-wall, graveyard of trees, the pit of society and the vandal’s hideout, creeping, crawling, slithering, shady in more ways than one.


Hand thing.

  This doesnt make sense for shit, but it sounds really awesome.                                                                

                                                                          Hands: Gateway to the World, Passage to the Soul

                Hands are the most telling part of a person’s body.  Common intuition paints the eyes as the windows of the soul, their glass transparent to the heart, but our hands carry the collective wounds of all our years, the stress of our scars, the weight of our burdens. The severity or brusqueness of a simple touch can mean worlds of expression.  A caress, love.  Impact, anger.  Slithering, seduction.  Crawling, diffidence.  My own hands, having done it all, are a portal to my soul.  The ease at which they can support my weight shows years of experience on the football field, the tenderness and at the same time aggression shows the mastery of a bass guitar virtuoso. From just the sight, hands conjure up memories, thoughts, feelings, and the potential they carry, to perhaps make beautiful music, or a magnificent sculpture.   Looking at my own hands, I see ursine hair, plucking shimmers from the air and delivering them back to the world in luminescent reverberations, and tan skin displaying the gifts of the Sun.  I see bruises and nicks, reminders of the battles these hands have fought on the football field.  I see the hand of my love, locked in mine, the saccharine scent of her casting me head over heels.  I see a friend of mine, fingers spread, their fingertips pressed to mine, mouth agape in awe of the size of the spiderlike hand splayed before them.   Hands are our link to the world, our physical connections to the past, and our lifelong companions.  A moment’s reflection can reminiscence on a lifetime of use.

Another hand thing:
Just fuck, dude.


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