My father worked just up the street at the brand new grocery Superstore. It had super savings that brought the people of Lancaster the unthinkable: rentable VHS machines! and larger ilses, which made it the more unfathomable people still ran into each other with their carts. But in this greater-greater Los Angeles suburb, my father's store was the newest and brightest jewel in the proliferating Alberstons' crown. His days were extremely long. He'd work six days a week at roughly ten to twelve hours aday. Therefore, needless to say, it wasn't uncommon to see my father more frequently on the couch or in the store than outside.

The Boston Globe has a report mentioning several hundred laws that invoking the Commander in Chief card allows one to break...

THIS?

this narcissistic-orb-o-verbosity-and-loquaciousness offers a great many who haven't the literary outlite (aside from History, Theology, or Philosophy classes--to name a few) the perfect forum to vent, theorize, and come to findout, date. Now while I tend to write more when the fan base (in which is used as loosely as a post-pregnant mother post-crapping) is shy and on vacation, one must presume that this forum is merely just the ability of the public to look into the most sacred of thoughts and more improtantly, the most inane. Therefore, thinking outloud here, this arena has numerous benefits, although it has a great deal more drawbacks. Case in point is the Weblog. I happen to stumble across this irreverent, heretically charged, collection of apt writers (in more than one language!!!), that I feel ya'll should share in and if for no other reason than to acknowledge the faults that we all knew permeated seminary. Here, is an example of the writing:

So that's what I left. I drove for a long time, probably about five hours. Surprisingly, near Chicago there was a traffic jam. I have strong moral convictions about traffic jams: I believe it is utterly unacceptable for them to happen, ever. As long as traffic jams continue to happen (to me), I will remain deeply skeptical about the superiority of the United States over all previous nations.
Adam Kotsko

And it is there that I believe, unequivocally, that he is the next leader of the children in God's church. The drawbacks of the blog world. Read and enjoy.

This guy is Eliot, and when not signing Prokofiev's sixth, is just a simple 4ft 20 month old: he puts his shoes on top of the DVD player like everyone else, likes to bang pots and pans for vocal preperation (and to ensure that his mom has a last nerve), spins on the smooth tile floor using bowls with the best of 'em, and has a laugh that can be heard a mile away, contagious throughout. Unfortunately, he's experienced some rough moments during the past couple of months: an MRI, tubes were placed in each ear to alleviate a constant ear infection, of course with hair so befitting my grandfather he tends to lead with his head minus the little warning devices we call hair, so, he has some bumps and bruises, but yesterday his mother found out some pretty bad news. And while the extent of the news is known only to God, meaning that his condition could either really hinder Eliot's development forever, or it could pose no greater problem than those with learning disabilities. While therapy is a given and in the works, right now the ultimate gift for the two of them is your prayers.

(And if you don't know her, or want to know all there is to know about her, check out this interview at A5 1T 15. it's scandalous!)

First, the post below is truly in a place of indistinction. I deleted it. It's not on my file list. So i can't delete it again. But here it is, still in exsitence. How odd. Oh well. I like the poem, but believe that the ending, while beautifully poignent, borders on, if not resides well within a blasphemous realm. One that i am not willing to enter. Although i do love the line italicized.

And second, the story here says something about the dialectic of the Enlightenment for sure. Here, it wasn't party politics that legitimized the individuals voice--if that is even possible--but a collection of singular voices that disallowed the government the ability to pass a law without the populations consent.

And third, it would seem that our President has been reading Clinton Rossiter's, Constitutional Dictatorship: Crisis Government in the Modern Democracies, because he is emulating the closing remarks in a beautifully mutilated fashion, "No sacrifice is too great for our democracy, least of all the temporary sacrifice of democracy itself" (314).

And fourth, BASEBALL!!! ANGELS!!! Tim Salmon!! And the Ducks are heading to the playoffs. Life is good in the lovely city of Los Angeles of Anaheim.