a damn waste of time

I showed videos about the ancient Olympics yesterday and today, while I graded papers, sorted files, and organized my desk. It was very educational. Especially the nude-colored loin cloths. Some of my students said they didn't enjoy PBS's subtle take on modesty. Well, next year I'll show them something really boring.

Why am I showing videos--something I wouldn't have even countenanced as a new teacher (but something I should have countenanced)? Well, it's Roman Field Day tomorrow, and I've worked my @$$ off for the last 2 months to get ready. That's why finishing a bottle of cabernet france and a box of Wheat-Thins (with a little help from the lovely Jalalabad) is a great way to celebrate. Here's to good weather with no scattered showers tomorrow!

I'm curious, now that my blog is listed on http://www.cvilleblogs.com/, if it automatically gets posted there. Well, I guess we'll find out in a little bit. I don't really have any opinions on city government. Except for the fact that I have an opinion about every damn thing.

For a minute, when I heard "genitum, non factum" while we were singing Mozart's Missa Brevis, I couldn't help but realize that the incarnation is a miracle. Of course, the paucity of truly inexplicable miracles in my life lends me to believe in banalities and heresies. Maybe it's because I'm too busy explaining everything to 13-year olds.

What does it mean to live for Christ, especially, after one takes away all the pretense, all the posturing, all the self-promotion and the preening? I think I am somewhat of a poseur. I guess the question I'd like to ask myself is, "Self, do I really believe the gospel, or do I play at Christianity to make myself feel better in the morning?"

Of course, I just get the impression that my fellow Christians really don't want me. Just today I got an e-mail from a co-worker that all Christians should wear red on Fridays to show their support for the war. There are so many things wrong with that last sentence I don't even know where to start. I don't even care anymore.

Does anyone care? I came up with this great, warm, fuzzy devotional while I was in Ithaca about gorges. Why can't I just be warm and fuzzy inside? Why do I shudder at Christianity? Why am I appalled by George W.? Why can't I just have a "praisegasm" and make love to Jesus? I hear the Gnostics said that Jesus was into that. You know, John, the "beloved" disciple?

I read through I John with my class, and I have to admit that I didn't dig it. I couldn't get where he was coming from. I totally agreed with half of what he was saying and got shivers down my spine at the lest. Maybe I need to have something horrible happen to me. When did Jesus cease being sufficient in my worldview?

I have to give devotions next week Monday, and half of me wants to get up in front of my peers and rant. The other half of me wants to cry uncontrollably. I guess I'm just a μουνάκι.

Peace.