No realli

Bears suck and their bytes kan be painful.

Bears suck

Its a scientific fact.

Evals done

Woot.

I'm glad that's done and over with. I have a 24 hr shift coming this Friday. I wonder if hospitals are like commercial stores and get extremely busy the day after turkey day.

On another note, I just got recommended the movie "Night of the Lepus". Should be interesting.

Terminal Patients

...even those feeling very distraught (helpless/hopeless), in a somber way, are much more enjoyable to be around then families of the deceased (in general) I do believe. Or at least, that's my take on it. I'm tempted to start a poll - informal - and see which people would prefer to be "around" for an hour or two.

Happy 230th USMC!

I felt a bit compelled to make a blog at the stroke of midnight. What's to say? Quite alot, but I'll spare the hordes of my audience such a long monologue. General Hagee, Commandant of the USMC, has a nice summary I think in part of his birthday message:

"The sense of honor, courage, and patriotism that epitomized those who answered that first call to arms two hundred and thirty years ago is still indelibly imprinted on our ranks today. Incommemorating our anniversary, let us strengthen our ties to the past by paying homage to those whohave gone before us. As we honor the sacrifices of our wounded and fallen comrades, our commitmentto one another remains unshakable. We take special pride in the actions of the Marines now serving inharm's way, and rededicate ourselves the service of our Nation and our Corps."

So, on that note, I'll end this on the above, and the fact that I'm immensely proud to have had the honor to serve in the Corps, and recognize that the experience and ability to claim the title of Marine has served me greatly as a chaplain.

Semper Fi

Spring Morning

For someone that doesn't particularly like reading poetry that much (I like some, not many tho) or writing it at all, I seem to have a bit of a trend forming soon. Anyway, I found - by chance - the poem that Arnie reads in Kindergarten Cop. Its by A.A Milne (of Pooh fame).

Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.

Where am I going?The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.-
Where am I going?The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.

If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:"
Doesn't the sky look green today?"

Where am I going? The high rooks call:
"It's awful fun to be born at all."
Where am I going?The ring-doves coo:
"We do have beautiful things to do."

If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
"That's where I wanted to go today!"

Where am I going? I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.

Hi, I'm the chaplain for tonight.

Would you like to hear what I use to listen to constantly?

Death be not proud

The poem:

Death be not proud, though some have callèd thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee;
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou’art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie,’or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.


The commentary (from WiT - read with a bit of an English-scholarly accent to it, as a professor rips into her student's essay on the poem):

The sonnet begins with a valiant struggle with death, calling on all forces of intellect and drama to vanquish the enemy. But it is ultimately about overcoming the seemingly insuperable barriers separating life, death, and eternal life.

In the edition you chose, this profoundly simple meaning is sacrificed to hysterical punctuation: And Death-capital D-shall be no more—semicolon! Death—capital D—comma—thou shalt die— exclamation point!

If you go for this sort of thing I suggest you take up Shakespeare. Gardner’s edition of the Holy Sonnets returns to the Westmoreland manuscript source of 1610, not for sentimental reasons, I assure you, but because Helen Gardner is a scholar. It reads:

And death shall be no more, comma, death thou shalt die.

Nothing but a breath, a comma, separates life from everlasting life. It is simple really. With the original punctuation restored, death is no longer something to act out on a stage, with exclamation points. It’s a comma, a pause.

This way, the uncompromising way, one learns something about this poem, wouldn’t you say? Life, death. Soul, God. Past, present. Not insuperable barriers, not semicolons, just a comma.