Alumni Skit for which I wrote the script!

Scene 1

Grandma and Child walking into store.

Grandma “All right, Johnny, Grandma’s got a lot of things to get, so I don’t want you causing any trouble.”

Child selects object, smashes it on the ground.

Johnny. “Oops.

Grandma Johnny. Look what you’ve done.

Intercom Will an associate please report to aisle 6 for spill clean-up?

Janitor Stupid kids these days breaking pickle jars like they grow on trees.

Grandma Sheepishly, to Child I guess it’s time to move on.

Clerk “Excuse me ma’am, aren’t you going to pay for that?

Grandma What do you mean I gotta pay for it, it was an accident.”

Clerk Gimme the money.

Grandma “Fat chance, you whippershnapper.”

Grandma whacks Clerk with purse, Janitor tries to break up the ensuing chaos.

Director CUT!! It’s too fast. I feel hurried into this. Try it slower.

Actors repeat Scene 1 ‘til glass breaks, in slow-mo. CUT!! I’m so bored I’m gonna cry! You, you’re too slow, you’re fired! And you, I hate your face, you’re fired! You there, see if you can do better. And you, you’re hired. Now get up here. PLACES! Uh, think, PIRATES! Action!

Scene 2 Pirates

Old Salt Argh, me boy. I got a bloomin’ lot of loot to bag, so don’t ye be getting’ under foot, ye hear?

Johnny Aye. Breaks pickle jar.

Old Salt Blistering Barnacles, ye landlubber! Look what ye done?

First Mate Will a crewman report fer poop deck duty?

Deck-swab Argh, poop deck duty, my foot.

Old Salt A-har-har, best be moving astern. Winking ridiculously at boy

First Mate Hold on there, ye old salt, aren’t ye gone ter pay fer that collateral?

Old Salt Wot?! Pay? It was an accident, savvy?

First Mate Let’s see the gold, ye swab.

Old Salt You’d see me in Davy Jones Locker first, ye washed-up excuse for a first mate!

Both Yargh!

Director Okay, CUT! I’m sea-sick already! You, you, and you, get off my set, you’re a disgrace to Hollywood. Hey lady, congratulations you’ve been promoted. You, come on up. You there…(etc.)Places! Now, (dreamy eyed look) let’s get things back on dry land, please, really dry land. Heading west! ACTION!

Scene 3 Western

Gramps Now kid, I’ve got a lotta grub tah sack, so don’t you be gettin’ in the dad gum way.

Boy Sure, gramps. Crash

Gramps What in tarnation?!! Look what ya done, ya tarnal fool boy!!

Store clerk Will Sid report fer clean-up duty, please?

Sid What now, did the pigs break into the beer agin?

Gramps Well squirt, reckon we’d best be headin’ on.

Clerk Hold on there, Partner, yer gonna pay for those pickles, ain’t ya?

Gramps WHADDYA MEAN pay for the pickles? It was an accident!

Clerk Hand over the cash…

Gramps This store ain’t big enough for the two of us. (Both draw guns from belts)

Director CUT! It lacks feeling, eloquence, passion. (Fires/Hires) It’s not historical enough! ACTION!

Scene 4 Shakespearean

Grandparent Dearest child, I must remind you; suffer you to not place thyself in the manifested path of mine most humble shopping cart.

Johnny As the earth tarries not to traverse its dutiful course round the radiant sun, so shall not I revolt to disregard thy most worthy of biddings… Grandpa. Crash.

Grandparent Forsooth! Ponder in thine clandestine soul, the profundity of thine brash actions!

Janitor Hark! O Darkest of days! O broken pickle jar! O tides of fortune why hast thou conspired against me? For dejectedly do I hasten toward my fate with crestfallen mop and bucket!

Clerk Hail, ye gent of the silver crown, and length of days! Dost thou turn hence with no intention of just recompense?

Grandparent Recompense? Dost thou levy toll upon the betrayals of fate and misfortune? For misfortune it was, not I that hastened this said pickle jar to its untimely dispersion.

Clerk Bah. Hand your pence here.

Grandparent Swiftly to my hilt dost mine hand now fly! For thou hast provoked me most unabashedly and now just recompense is thine in full share!

Director CUT! Thatith maketh me puketh! You’re all fired! (new cast) Now, let’s give it a modern spin, you know? Appeal to the audience on their terms, in their language, to their level! Simplify! Simplify!

Granny “All right, Johnny, Grandma’s got a lot of things to get, so I don’t want you causing any trouble. crash

Johnny. “Oops.

Grandma Johnny. Look what you’ve done.

Intercom Will an associate please report to aisle 6 for spill clean-up?

Janitor Stupid kids these days breaking pickle jars like they grow on trees.

Grandma I guess it’s time to move on.

Clerk Excuse me ma’am, aren’t you going to pay for that?

Grandma What do you mean I gotta pay for it, it was an accident.”

Clerk Gimme the money.

Grandma “Fat chance, you whippershnapper.”

Director Annnd it’s a wrap! I LOVE it! Bravo! Bravo! Spectacular!

Everyone bows.

The story of beauty

"I see beauty all around me

The mountains, the rivers, and trees

I feel its presence because it touches me

With things as simple as a breeze

With so much beauty and so much love

How can we be from nothing?

‘Cause nothing comes from nothing,

So I know I’m here for something!

I come to you presenting a question

A question that needs some clearing

When you hear that voice inside your head

Do you think maybe it's God you're hearing?

I have for you a proposition

It’s of most importance so I beg that you would listen

What do you see in the world around you?

Do you think it's important to know

That when your days are over and gone

You'll know where your soul will go?

For I have news of an amazing Creator

One who loves all His creation

He created this world, and you and me

With a love beyond all comprehension

The love was so great that He sent His son, Jesus,

To die for the sin of us all!

He inspired a book that offers salvation

For all of those He does call

He is the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost,

He is formed in this incredible three

To Christian believers, there is another name, we call it the Trinity

This is how I see it, or better yet my World View,

There is a God, and a place with eternal life

I’d like to go there one day

How 'bout you?"

-Ted Mikels

To set the record straight

I was home-schooled.

Above is a picture documenting what finally forced me to become a studious child. Let's say I didn't have much else to do.

BUT--I was also public-schooled.

So I think I have some perspective on both types of schooling that *ahem* gives me some credibility, ifIdosaysomyself.

Here's me ^ still being studious. The beaming chap next to me was the first kid I ever had a crush on, and of course you and I are wondering, in retrospect, what was I thinking. ANYway.

Here's me enjoying lunch. I was always the marvel for my skill to put away food. After all, look at that appealing stuff, wouldn't you do the same?

No?

We'll just move along now.

I hear a lot of fellow home-schoolers wanting to debunk myths that public-schoolers have about us, but I would like to set the record straight. Home-schoolers have stereotypes about public-schoolers too!

And for the sake of sanity I shall call home-schoolers "homies" and public-schoolers...uh... "P.S.ers"

To you P.S.ers

Homies are like you. There are sociable homies, awkward homies, athletic homies, drop-out homies and and over-achiever homies. And just like at your school, the ones among us who are the smartest tend to dress a little funny. I even personally know several homies who have gone criminal. Go figure.

To you Homies!

P.S.ers are like you too! Some can speak intelligently to adults, use the word "too" correctly, and BELIEVE OR NOT not every P.S.er has belt-altitude issues.

I've met some incredible, godly, and articulate P.S.ers who are sold out for the Lord.

So what I'm trying to say here is that stereotypes will always exist, and it would be to our credit to avoid them. It's just as easy for homies to huddle and point at those 'illiterate-media-obsessed-rebels' as it is for P.S.ers to mock those 'awkward-nose-picking-nerds'.

THAT BEING SAID, there is a REASON that I prefer home-schooling to public-schooling, and it has very little to do with all the stereotypes involved.

I WILL homeschool my kids for several reasons:

1) It was God's plan for parents. The way I see it is public-schooling is a lot like Polygamy and smoking. The bible never gave us a rule to say it's wrong, BUT it gave us clear blueprints for what God intended. Read Deuteronomy 6.

2) Public-Education has a lousy pedagogy for academic excellence. My dad's an elementary School teacher and he would tell you right off that he's a babysitter of the masses. Kids aren't sent to school these days to just be educated because no one in their right minds would put 20 children under one adult and think that that would do it. Private tutoring works best if the objective is to LEARN.

3) Home-education costs the state NOTHING.

4) Home-education is a safer environment for socialization.

The kind of uncivilized socialization that I acquired in elementary school was not necessary. I actually had never even heard the words "believe in yourself", or the term "self-esteem" at home, but the greatest wounds to my self-worth and image were inflicted at school, where all those self-esteem posters were stapled up and down every hall. Ironic? A lot of the big words I like to use are from my parents, I mostly got four-lettered words from my peers. At home I learned how to work, do chores, take care of pets, and acquire basic life skills. At school, I can't think of EVER being taught about work-ethic or time-management. *Shrug* The home is a real place and a valuable cog of society whereas school is an artificial environment unlike anything in society other than factories and prisons.

5) Home-education is freedom. Freedom to wear pajamas, freedom to pray, freedom to not attend sex-ed. SCORE!

I probably have more reasons around here somewhere but that shall do for now.

What do you think?

"I love you from the bottom of...

...my mind."

Granted, you won't hear a song like that warbling out of your radio anytime soon.

Love has forever been associated with that lubby-dubby organ behind your sternum, not so much with the flabby grey matter in your skull, which is understandable.

But, how radical it is that God commands us to love Him with all our heart, all our mind, and with all our strength!

God asked for our love; the deepest and dearest thing we could ever give! He did not ask for our blood, our infants, or our maidens, as the idols 'demanded'; no He wanted us, wholly, in delightful completeness, living, breathing, loving!

It's radical, I tell you!

Even more mind-blowing is the thought that He came to show us how He loves us.

Christ earnestly loved us with His mind, exhorting us with parables, Scripture, and revelations. He deeply loved us with his human heart; weeping for us, delighting in us.

And ultimately, He loved us beyond the limits of His human strength, bending , breaking, bleeding for us.

Who can stand unbending in the face of such limitless love? Does it not demand our complete and zealous reciprocation? For now when God says 'love me', and we ask 'how', He has only to reply, 'as Christ has loved you'. Irrevocably our minds, hearts and bodies belong to Him.

I am learning to love God with all my heart.

Further up and further into the joy of knowing God; it's a journey I'm on. He's channeling my zeal and feelings away from other things and towards Himself. He satisfies the longing of my heart.

I am learning to love God with all my mind.

I've been reading Heretics by G.K. Chesterton today, (MAN has it been a head-trip!)

He artfully shows again and again how a worldview founded in God makes SO much more sense than otherwise. God continually satisfies my mind, and keeps blowing it too. :D

I am learning to love God with my strength.

It sometimes takes massive will-power to bend my rebellious spirit to submit to others, but it is a strength that God is cultivating in me. I feel so much love for Him when I'm laboring for things that please Him! He satisfies my need for purpose and work.

Love is a way of life, it melds our intellect, our emotions, and our will in a synthesis of devotion.

Hey, so how can you love God today?

Whoa

I found this old script I'd written last year:

Pharaoh just died. WOHAPOTEP and SHEPSTUT are on a rooftop watching the funeral procession.

WOHAPOTEP

How tragic.

SHEPSTUT

YES, Wohapotep! (sniffle)He will be missed. He wore his fake goatee so elegantly. The court often praised Pharaoh Yebu for it! May he live forever.

WOHAPOTEP

Oh, that too. I do feel badly for the fellow, kicking the bucket and all.

SHEPSTUT

Well, what else would be tragic at a funeral, the lack of hors d'oeuvres?

WOHAPOTEP

Hm, that too. But the tragic I was thinking of is all that gold doomed to eternal solitude in a stuffy pyramid.

sHEPSTUT

(rolling eyes) You and gold.

WOHAPOTEP

Shepstut, you wound me! My interest in precious metals is strictly altruistic! I have relentlessly studied the ebb and flow of the commodities market and currency exchange, just as the priests study the nile.

SHEPSTUT

May it flow forever.

wOHAPOTEP

Yes, yes, My point is that my meticulous calculations have brought me to the startling conclusion that each time a Pharaoh dies--

SHEPSTUT

May they live forever.

wOHAPOTEP

but they don't--that's the point. Pharaoh Yebu just died. Why else would all these people be watching a depressing parade on a hot day like this? And would you quit saying that.

Shepstut

Oh keep your wig on, it's just figure of speech. You were saying?

WoHAPOTEP

I was saying that every time a pharaoh moves on... to his happy... hoping ground, he takes all his gold with him, siphoning it off the market and sapping the economy!

ShePSTUT

So? What does that mean?

WOHAPOTEP

The value of gold skyrockets, deflating the currency supply and throwing prices in the ditch. I have a plan.

Shepstut

Oh dear.

WOHAPOTEP

I resent that. I'm going to loot his pyramid.

ShepSTUT

Oh yeah, and I'm going to be queen of england.

wOHAPOTEP

No really. Here's the plan.

Of fog, books, and Love... etc.

Been readin' again folks.

You know what's coming.

Ilovereadingbooksit'slikeadisembodimentalhigherexperiencemymindislikewhoatheuniverseexpandswitheverybookIreadblah blah blah

Last evening, Mr. KindredSpirit (my big brother) and I walked off our Christmas calories through our gloriously foggy and quiet neighborhood. Often we'd stop and try to cram every square inch of our lungs with the sweetest air you ever tasted. Different places had different smells. One neighbor has this cedar that almost gives you a high, it's so spicy and fragrant. Another part of the walk nearly knocked us over with the richest saute smell this side of heaven. It grew so strong as we continued that we wondered what it could possibly smell likeinside the neighbor's house. If it was any stronger you'd basically have to chew it. That's probably what they were doing in there.

If you know me at all you'll know I can't experience something profound and then just move on. Aaron and Macy, our dog, would stop and patiently endure as I'd monologue about the picturesque nature of the fog, as it dramatically shrouded the trees and diffused the sun. Then Aaron and I got to talking. I was telling him about the two novels (Wuthering Heights, Christy) I'd gotten for Christmas and how they had impacted me.

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) is one of my favoritest books in the world, and Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte) had many similarities but it seemed to focus on all the pain, anger, and darkness of love rather than the joy, light and beauty of it. A familiar theme these sisters use is the concept of becoming of one soul and mind with your beloved, and that nothing can separate you. These books idealize passion, intensity and introspective depth; implying that marrying someone for reasons of wealth, beauty, or even good character are cheap and shallow reasons. These books have somewhat influenced me, and as I was chattering to Aaron about it, I heard myself basically say, "I'm SO going to hold out for someone who's soul is like deep water, someone who has passion, complexity, and even inconsistencies. Why settle for less?" I asked him if sometimes guys seeks conversation with a girl more for attention than information, and he agreed. He said poetically "Some guys may prefer looking into your eyes more than looking into your mind." We griped about it. :D

But something in me sensed flaws in the Bronte ideals that had captivated me. The men in those books were ruled by passion and feeling more than self-control and morality, making them glamorous, masculine and appealing, their edge of danger thrilling to the heroines. The Bronte sisters scorned the emptiness of physical attraction and youthful desire, and defined love as intimacy of mind and soul. Aaron and I agreed; it sounds amazing in novels, but does that kind of love last? Who says emotions are to be trusted any more than hormones?

Aaron pointed out that this mentality can give some the idea that they are destined for a certain someone, and even marrying the "wrong person" can't stop them from being with their "second self", their extended soul. Yup, that's pretty awful. It seems simple to me; whoever you're with is who you're meant to be with, so don't be with anyone who isn't worth being with for always! I know it's more complicated than that, but oh well.

So darkness fell as we arrived back at home, and I couldn't help but feel that I shall love my brother always, even if we someday cease to confide in one another. The best love is one that's constant, gentle, throbbing like a heartbeat; capable of racing for joy, and able to ache for sorrow, but always, always beating. Love is here and it's here to stay.

Okay, so it's sappy.

Well, found this old writing project in my files from last year. Tell me what you think!

"How distant everything seemed! The pounding stagger, the ragged breath, the aching side; all so far from me. For there was no other way. Miles ran together; only the rhythm and fever of my heart sustained me.

Every part of me ached. My soul, my being! How many times had I seen his face, heard his voice only to find him a mirage of my own delirium?

And then. He was there.

All the world became peripheral, save for him. Sharp and clear, his distant image pierced my dim, blurred heart.

The body I’d yet ignored gave way under me. I did not care.

He was coming for me now. He’d flung down the plow reins and broke into a dead run.

I gasped with starving lungs, twisting my fingers into the grass that surrounded me, towered over me. I dreaded him, longed for him! The old caution and stifling reserve flooded me the moment he came. Why, oh why had I come? Does not his kindness kill me? I felt him pull me up, supporting me while he kneeled.

“Dear girl, what have you done? Are you mad? That’s nearly twelve miles journey! Did you run all the way?”

His questions weren’t really asking for answers, so I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly. Not that I would have spoken anyway.

Of course he’s shocked that you’re here. He sent you away, and you’ve come running back like a doting fool! How you must try him! The exasperation in his eyes cut me to pieces. I stared holes in the ground; shrinking from him.

“I—I’ll go back,” I murmured, “I’m---sorry that I came.”

“But why?” He lifted my chin and shook me, “Why did you come?” his voice dropped quiet and gentle. “You know full well why you couldn’t stay!”

I nodded pathetically. But despair spilled the words out of my mouth.

“Please—“ I clutched at his arm, “I beg of you. Do not send me back! I cannot bear that woman. She---she is not good to me.”

He must have glanced at the hand that gripped him, because his brow furrowed and he grabbed it in his two hands. I tried to wrench away but his hold was firm. His jaw clenched hard as he intently scanned my face. Sliding my sleeve up past my elbow, he exposed the numerous welts and bruises on my flesh.

“God—have mercy, what have I done!”

I had never seen him provoked before, but quiet fury came over him. He slowly stood up, raking his hands through his hair, pacing without aim or direction. He even picked up a good-sized stone and hurled it against a nearby tree.

I began to cry. A choking, spluttering cry that squeezes one’s throat like a vice.

The warmth of his arms surrounded me, rocking me gently.

Eventually, he scooped me off the ground and bore me down the slope.

The sun was setting to our backs, casting our shadows long before us. The evening air, heavy with the scent of hay and honeysuckle, whispered past, teasing my hair and cooling my damp forehead. Into my spent and broken heart trickled a new sensation I could hardly fathom.

Peace.

Maybe there was a God who loved me after all?"

Naturalism=Moral Suicide

You are what you eat.

Think about it! For the first nine months of your existence you were entirely what your mother ate, and for a while after that too. But even though you've since been weaned, thank goodness, you're still only made of the substances you've repackaged into you!

Look down at your body.

Every square inch of you has existed since the beginning of time. You, or at least what you are made of, are as ancient as the cosmos itself!

I realized this when I was only a youngster and the implications sure weirded me out. I've often wondered if I've shared molecules with some ancient dead person. Everything around here gets reused anyway; I could have eaten some hamburger of a cow who ate the grass over a grave!

It's a circle of life kind of thing.

Right about now you're wondering if I've consumed something fermented, but hold your horses, I really have something worthwhile to ask of you.

Who are you?!?

Are you anything more than what you are made of? If you're like me, you feel profoundly distinct from the earth, sky and water around you. You feel incredibly You and nothing else. Why?

I must explain myself. I'm on this peculiar train of thought because I'm sitting here in a warm sunbeam, with all the vibrance and glory of autumn hollering at me through my window, and I've just read a chapter on Secular Humanism in my worldview class textbook. As I'm trying to immerse my mind in a world without God, I'm mulling through the basic tenets of naturalism. And the implications are unsettling.

If all I am is what I ate, if all I will ever become is the grave, then the entirety of my life is a whoop-de-doo! I'm as pointless and worthless as the ant I squished yesterday.

Forget ethics! Forget human dignity! Forget conventional courtesy! A world without God is absolutely and comprehensively meaningless! Why waste time whining about the economy, the government, the way things are "supposed to be", if there are no ought's and should's in life?! Do you get what I mean?

And as I look out my window, I wonder why I see meaning and beauty in the random chaos if I am supposedly just another part of it! Why, in all the universe, is there only one species that possesses acute consciousness and intelligence and why does he obsessively define "right" from "wrong" if he wasn't supposed to?

Why can't Mother Nature satisfy the mind she allegedly created?

What if a Mind created my mind?

I think I shall never be able live in a world without God. I have a mind that screams against mindlessness, a heart that cries against heartlessness, and a soul that dares defy mortality.

I think I'll go eat lunch.