<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:47:08.781-07:00</updated><category term='poetry'/><category term='quote'/><category term='stories'/><category term='others writings'/><category term='narrations'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='random'/><title type='text'>Nonsublunary</title><subtitle type='html'>my try at the new blogger (beta no more!), on which I shall put my writings, such as poems, stories, riddles, and whatever else tickles my fancy. I may only put part of a story on here, and you may never get to read the rest of it, because I never write it. Tough luck.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-3950557698414312713</id><published>2007-05-12T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T13:27:14.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Temporary Switch to Wordpress</title><content type='html'>For all of my readers out there, I'm just letting you know that for a while I'm not going to be publishing here on Blogger. Instead, I'll be trying out Wordpress, and working out the kinks in my new Nonsublunary. If I decide that I like Wordpress better than Blogger, I will be making a permanent switch. If not, I will resume posting here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To check out my new blog, go to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.nonsublunary.wordpress.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nonsublunary.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;www.nonsublunary.wordpress.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-3950557698414312713?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/3950557698414312713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=3950557698414312713&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/3950557698414312713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/3950557698414312713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/05/temporary-switch-to-wordpress.html' title='A Temporary Switch to Wordpress'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-4048993668588269836</id><published>2007-04-27T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T11:59:40.679-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>A Description of the Day</title><content type='html'>Ah, how beautiful the day is! The fresh smell of spring is in the air. The sun is shining, and how wonderful it was, feeling the warmth on my back when I was hanging out the laundry a few minutes ago. A breeze is blowing, keeping the heat at bay. Everything is green, and the bluebonnets are still out. Even though they are on the decline, they are still a beautiful blue against the lively green of the grass.&lt;br /&gt;I heard a cardinal singing, high up in a tree, his bright red feathers shining. Along with him sings a myriad of other birds, none of which I can identify. Regardless, their chorus is beautiful, livening up the day.&lt;br /&gt;Our sugar snap peas have begun blooming, and now we have several handfuls of crisp, deliciously sweet pea pods. The spinach is also growing well. Quite soon, perhaps tomorrow for dinner, we can have salad.&lt;br /&gt;The peach tree blooms have come and gone, and now the two trees are covered in little peaches, about an inch in diameter.  Soon, ah yes, very soon, we will have lovely ripe peaches with beautiful red and orange fuzzy skin, so juicy that when you bite into it, the juice runs down your arm, dripping off your elbow. Ah, how I long for the day!&lt;br /&gt;However, this lovely spring day was stained a bit this morning by the butchering of eight chickens. I will spare you from all the gory details, which I think would ruin my description of eating one of our peaches, that you just read. But thankfully, that was the last of the escapees (the chickens that kept getting out, even when we tied a large stick to their leg), so there will be no more chicken butchering for quite a long time. Or, until we run out of chicken.&lt;br /&gt;I must go now, and finish reading this weeks pages in Paradise Lost, which is for school. I would tell you about it, but I think that if you really want to know, you can ask me. I'm afraid that would be quite a large rabbit to chase, to go from talking about how beautiful this day is, to describing the battle in heaven between Satan and his angels, and Michael and God's angels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-4048993668588269836?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/4048993668588269836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=4048993668588269836&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4048993668588269836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4048993668588269836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/04/description-of-day.html' title='A Description of the Day'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-4031127068660669204</id><published>2007-04-20T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T11:10:46.502-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>A Quote</title><content type='html'>This is a quote from Sir Walter Scott's novel, "Kenilworth", that I thought was really funny. This was the first piece of dictation that I did this year, and so far, I think it's still my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, out upon thee for a faint-spirited slave! What adventurous knight ever thought of the lady's terror, when he went to thwack giant, dragon, or magician, in her presence, and for her deliverance? But why talk to thee of dragons, who would be driven back by a dragon-fly. There thou hast missed the rarest opportunity!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenilworth, by Sir Walter Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-4031127068660669204?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/4031127068660669204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=4031127068660669204&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4031127068660669204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4031127068660669204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/04/quote.html' title='A Quote'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-7050432309451542462</id><published>2007-04-20T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T11:03:59.349-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narrations'/><title type='text'>a narration on government and economics</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The Question:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Imagine and tell what &lt;/i&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;i&gt;America&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;i&gt; would be like if it practiced Common Law. Cite specific examples of things that would be different.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The Answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Right now, in the year 2007, the &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;United   States of America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is governed by Political Law. This is basically where whoever holds the power can make the rules. This can be disastrous, but just imagine what it would be like if we got rid of Political Law altogether, and replaced it with Common Law. Then, the government would have a lot less power, and all citizens would be under the two fundamental laws: (1) do all you have agreed to do, and (2) do not encroach on other persons or their property. These two laws would apply to all people, including the government. Thus, there would no longer be eminent domain, which is encroachment. There would no longer be any need for taxes, because the government wouldn’t be in charge of those things that they would have used that money for. The postage rates would be less expensive, because there could be competition. There would be less problems with drugs, because whenever the government tries to deal with moral problems, they just get worse. The government wouldn’t be in charge of that anymore, though really it never was their job; it's the parents responsibility. We wouldn’t have all these problems with the environment anymore, because when people privately own something, they tend to take better care of it than when it belongs to everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;These are just a few of the problems that would be solved, and things that would improve, if we were once more under the Common Law. May we strive to turn back to these ways, and make this world a better place in which to live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-7050432309451542462?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/7050432309451542462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=7050432309451542462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7050432309451542462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7050432309451542462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/04/narration-on-government-and-economics.html' title='a narration on government and economics'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-5658194194069042659</id><published>2007-04-13T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T10:09:32.897-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narrations'/><title type='text'>Is There a Better Way?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;An argumentative essay on the use of credit cards, written by Deborah Bruce.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    In &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; today, almost everyone uses a credit card. We buy almost everything with credit; fuel for our cars, groceries, and other necessities, not to mention entertainment and things on the internet. It’s something that everyone does; so what could be wrong with it? Have we ever dared to question whether using credit to buy things is really the best way? Can paying with cash be a better alternative, or is it too risky? I say there is a better way than credit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    What about the convenience? It’s so much easier to just whip out the plastic than to count out the amount of money you need to buy something. In that aspect wouldn’t it be better to use a credit card?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    When we use a credit card, we tend to spend more than when we use cash. Studies show that when the buyer uses a credit card to buy their groceries, they tend to spend almost double what they would spend if they used cash¹. And, when you can only spend the money you have in hand, you can’t buy those things you can’t afford, and you can’t spend money that you don’t have. But when you use credit, you are more apt to buy those things you normally wouldn’t if you used cash, thereby putting yourself even deeper into debt. Debt is yet another thing that Americans feel is something you have to have. And yet, God says in Proverbs 22:7 that the borrower is slave to the lender. Do you want to be a slave like that? I don’t! I would much rather pay for something with my own money, rather than use someone else’s, and have to pay them back.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    But what about big purchases, like furniture and cars? Are you supposed to pay for that with cash? How could you possibly come up with that much money all at once? Wouldn’t that be a good time to use a credit card?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    With big things like that, yes, you can save your money and buy it outright. Paying with cash for things like that makes quite an impression, and you can probably get yourself a deal by showing them the money right there, but you need to, you can also pay for such things with your debit card. Debit is by no means the same as paying with cash, but it is there if you absolutely have no other choice. Yes, it is quite possible to not use credit in such situations, and you probably will save by paying with your own hard earned money.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    But carrying cash is dangerous! If someone were to steal your money, there would be virtually no way to get it back. But, if they were to steal your credit card, it would be possible to keep them from stealing any of you money. And, if you bought something with cash and then realized it wasn’t what you thought it was, and wanted your money back, it would be way harder to do that with cash then it would be if you had used credit. Thus, wouldn’t it be better to use a credit card?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    Consider this. On average, cardholders carry a balance of $8,367 on their cards from month to month, paying an average of 18.3% in interest. In a year, they will pay $929.70 in interest payments². If instead they had used cash that year, they could have kept their $929.70! I really don’t think that in a year that much money or more would be stolen from out of your pocket. Thus, by using a credit card, you would lose more money than if you used cash. People can’t look through your pocket or purse, and see that you carry cash instead of a bunch of credit cards. As far as they know, you’re like everyone else. And about getting your money back for something you bought that you want to take back: here you just have to be careful where you put your money. And if you do have this problem and lose your money, there is a lesson learned. Be careful where you send your money; you just might not be able to get it back.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    But what about buying things on the internet? You can’t use cash then, and wouldn’t it be unsafe to use a debit card? If someone were to steal your number, they could drain your bank account. In this case, wouldn’t it be better to use a credit card?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    Credit cards are no less dangerous than debit cards. If you use a debit card made by VISA, it will have all the safeguards that a VISA credit card would have. Sure, it is possible that someone might steal your debit card number and spend all your money, but that’s where you need to be very, very careful, like you ought to be with all your purchases. What we do is we have a separate account that we use for buying things on the internet that has in it only the amount we need to buy that item. That way, even if they did get our number, they couldn’t take all our money. But even then, we ought to be very careful where we send our money.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    But with some credit cards, you get rewards. When you spend so much money, you can get prizes, airline miles, gift cards, and other neat things like that. Shouldn’t that be a good reason to have a credit card?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    The way that reward process works, you have to spend quite a lot of money in order to get them, and then you don’t get back near what you had to spend to get it. And, you still owe them money, and you’ll have to pay them back sooner or later. And on top of all that, they have so many rules and conditions, and they hold the right to back off their end of the deal at any moment. They are in charge of all of it, and you are pretty much at their mercy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    Besides all of this, by not using a credit card, you can be debt free. You don’t have to owe any credit card company any money, and have to pay them huge amounts in interest. Instead of being normal like everyone else (statistics say that the typical household debt totals more than $38,000)³, you can say “Yes! I am debt free!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    I urge you to consider what I have presented here, and do your own research, and see for yourself that there is a better way than credit. Help me, and others likeminded, as we strive to make &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;America&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; a better place, a place where everyone can find financial freedom.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Notes:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;¹ Robert J. Klein, “When to borrow, when to pay cash,” &lt;i&gt;D &amp; B Reports&lt;/i&gt; (March/April 1993), 63.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;² “Average Cardholder Balance,” CardTrack, status report cited by RAM Research Corp.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;³ Jeff Blyskal, “Loans,” &lt;i&gt;The Consumer Reports the Money Book&lt;/i&gt; (New York: Consumer Union of United States, Inc., 1995), 32.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-5658194194069042659?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/5658194194069042659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=5658194194069042659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5658194194069042659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5658194194069042659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/04/is-there-better-way.html' title='Is There a Better Way?'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6777420923907827524</id><published>2007-04-02T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T13:49:27.766-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>The Fall of a Droplet</title><content type='html'>Sorry it's been a while since I've posted, but I went off to Mexico on a mission trip for a week, and then I've been hopping busy with school and such, that I just now have found time (and a piece of writing!) to post.&lt;br /&gt;This is the newest poem that I've written, hot off the press. This week we're studying spacial poetry, and this is what I wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Fall of a Droplet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;bit&lt;br /&gt;of  a&lt;br /&gt;drip of&lt;br /&gt;water falls&lt;br /&gt;through the air&lt;br /&gt;a blob from the whole&lt;br /&gt;down, down in a weightless&lt;br /&gt;abyss. alone in the darkness&lt;br /&gt;looking for a landing. Suddenly&lt;br /&gt;cold floor and droplet meet&lt;br /&gt;drip becomes a little puddle&lt;br /&gt;landing with a tiny splat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6777420923907827524?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6777420923907827524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6777420923907827524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6777420923907827524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6777420923907827524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/04/fall-of-droplet.html' title='The Fall of a Droplet'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6497146018146255076</id><published>2007-03-09T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T16:22:24.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Evening By the Lake</title><content type='html'>This is a poem that ought to be read when one is relaxed and practically about to go to sleep. I didn't actually write this while sitting on the beach though, but instead of waves lapping, I thought of it while out riding, listening to the rhythm of my mule's walk.&lt;br /&gt;So, to properly enjoy this poem, just sit back, and imagine you're sitting on the beach, on a warm summer's eve, the wind blowing softly in your face, the sun setting on the horizon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;An Evening By the Lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the shore&lt;br /&gt;The sun is sinking low&lt;br /&gt;Pink wisps of cloud above&lt;br /&gt;The water laps, laps, laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A breeze blows through the trees&lt;br /&gt;A whisper speaking softly&lt;br /&gt;Rustling the leaves&lt;br /&gt;The water laps, laps, laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is dying fast&lt;br /&gt;The wind is quiet now&lt;br /&gt;The lake is still as glass&lt;br /&gt;The water laps, laps, laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6497146018146255076?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6497146018146255076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6497146018146255076&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6497146018146255076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6497146018146255076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/03/evening-by-lake.html' title='An Evening By the Lake'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-9059565846379773588</id><published>2007-03-05T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T12:56:54.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Samson and the Nazirite Vow</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is the essay I wrote for our last Bible Search, in Austin. I didn't place at all with this one, but I figured I'd put it on here anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;--------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the book of Judges, we read of a Judge named Samson, who, even before he was born, he as made a Nazirite to God, and was to live under that vow as long as he lived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here, I will describe what the Nazirite vow was, and how it corresponded with Samson’s life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In Numbers chapter six we read what God had set forth as the law in taking this vow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One, they were to stay away from anything that had to do with grapes, including the fruit, juice, seed and skin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Two, they were not to cut their hair during the time they were under the vow, and three, they were stay away from anything dead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What all of this signified was that they were set apart to the Lord, made holy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The word Nazirite comes from a Hebrew word meaning to separate, consecrate or abstain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By looking at the life of Samson, we see that he did not follow this law as a whole.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He didn’t cut his hair, but he did touch those that were dead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact, he killed a thousand men with the jawbone of a donkey in one instance!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, God was still with him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Of all the amazing things Samson did, they mostly had to do with his strength.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was the gift that God had given him, with which he delivered the Israelites.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, even though God was with him and gave him great strength, he was still human.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of his greatest weaknesses was anger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On several occasions, we read that his anger was aroused.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On one time he slew thirty men at &lt;st1:place&gt;Ashkelon&lt;/st1:place&gt;, and then later he, out of anger, burned up the Philistines grain, vineyards and olive groves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Many times he allowed his anger to control him, instead of his trusting in God.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of all these things, it was his over confidence in himself that brought his downfall.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In Judges &lt;st1:time hour="16" minute="20"&gt;16:20&lt;/st1:time&gt; we read how he thought he could free himself as at other times, but he didn’t know that the Lord had left him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the end, it was his selfishness that brought about his downfall.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are many lessons we can learn from the life of this judge, but one in particular is that we must not allow selfishness to take the place of our pleasing God.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If there is anyone or anything that will get in the way of our getting to heaven, it’s ourselves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;May we learn from Samson, and always strive to put our trust in the Lord.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-9059565846379773588?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/9059565846379773588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=9059565846379773588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/9059565846379773588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/9059565846379773588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/03/samson-and-nazirite-vow.html' title='Samson and the Nazirite Vow'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-4191254934353029844</id><published>2007-02-23T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T15:19:49.794-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>A poem</title><content type='html'>Looking out the window&lt;br /&gt;Skies are cloudy grey&lt;br /&gt;Through the trees, winds blow&lt;br /&gt;Many months till May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking for a blog post&lt;br /&gt;My brain befuddled is&lt;br /&gt;Of this I cannot boast&lt;br /&gt;My mind is full of fizz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This I'll leave to readers&lt;br /&gt;Find the rhyme and meter&lt;br /&gt;There's no chance of cheaters&lt;br /&gt;Who shall be the leader?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(note: if you take the challenge, no peeking at the comments until you have your answer!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-4191254934353029844?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/4191254934353029844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=4191254934353029844&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4191254934353029844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4191254934353029844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/poem.html' title='A poem'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-8865294470958090927</id><published>2007-02-16T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T14:30:19.643-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narrations'/><title type='text'>A Narration on "The Voyage of the Armada"</title><content type='html'>This is a narration I did this year on the book we read entitled, "The Voyage of the Armada", by David Howarth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The question:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explain why it was impossible for the English ships and the Spanish ships to truly fight with each other in the way they had been preparing to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The answer:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When King Philip II sent the Spanish Armada to attack England, they went prepared to board the English ships and fight with soldiers, as had been the custom for warfare at sea for years. Their ships were bulky and slow, and on board were more soldiers than sailors.&lt;br /&gt;  The English, on the other hand, had prepared using a different type of warfare. Instead of doing battle with soldiers, as if on land, they designed their ships and guns for a battle for sailors. Their ships were race-built, a much lighter and sleeker (is this even a word?) ship than the Spanish Galleons. Thus, they could quickly move out of range of the Spaniards, and escape their fire easily.&lt;br /&gt;  Because the two countries prepared for two different kinds of warfare, neither was suited to fight the other. The Spanish couldn't, because they couldn't get close enough to board the English ships, and the English couldn't because they couldn't get close enough to effectively fire at the Armada. Thus, neither army really gained the victory over the other by their own might. Though the English were successful in expelling the Armada, they were disappointed that they had not been able to do as well as they thought they could have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-8865294470958090927?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/8865294470958090927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=8865294470958090927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/8865294470958090927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/8865294470958090927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/narration-on-voyage-of-armada.html' title='A Narration on &quot;The Voyage of the Armada&quot;'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6825820636025549027</id><published>2007-02-16T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T14:34:00.985-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><title type='text'>blog post on profanity</title><content type='html'>In my blog surfing yesterday, I came across a blog called "This Godly Fight", and on there the author has a really good post on the subject of profanity, and just how ungodly it is. By reading it, I found out that some words that I hear quite often, even among God's people, are euphemisms for using God's name in vain! This is really an eye opener. Check it out &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/ThisGodlyFight/440478161/profanity.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and be sure you read the comments!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6825820636025549027?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6825820636025549027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6825820636025549027&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6825820636025549027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6825820636025549027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post-on-profanity.html' title='blog post on profanity'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6995458329540676996</id><published>2007-02-14T14:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T14:14:59.647-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Virtual candy hearts, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/RdOJI7vfQ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/WBb_WxLL7UI/s1600-h/candy+heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/RdOJI7vfQ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/WBb_WxLL7UI/s400/candy+heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031515995271807858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day to all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a cool candy heart thing that my Mom sent me. To make your own, &lt;a href="http://www.cryptogram.com/hearts/"&gt;click here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6995458329540676996?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6995458329540676996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6995458329540676996&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6995458329540676996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6995458329540676996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/virtual-candy-hearts-anyone.html' title='Virtual candy hearts, anyone?'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/RdOJI7vfQ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/WBb_WxLL7UI/s72-c/candy+heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6902977526234124956</id><published>2007-02-10T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T09:28:12.954-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='others writings'/><title type='text'>The Soldier's Grave</title><content type='html'>These are the lyrics to one of the songs on my new CD, "Homespun Songs of the C.S.A Volume 3." This is one of my few favorite songs ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O stranger, tread lightly, 'tis holy ground here.&lt;br /&gt;In death's cold embrace the soldier sleepeth here;&lt;br /&gt;On the red field of battle my brave comrade died,&lt;br /&gt;And his last smile I caught as I knelt by his side.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, his lips wore a smile, and he feared not to die,&lt;br /&gt;And his ear caught the shout as it rose to the sky:&lt;br /&gt;"The vict'ry is ours!" his comrades cried,&lt;br /&gt;"Thank God," said the soldier, as smiling, he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hearts full of grief we stood 'round his bier,&lt;br /&gt;And each soldier's eye was moist with a tear;&lt;br /&gt;And with sad solemn steps we marched to his grave&lt;br /&gt;And o'er our brave brother our flag we did wave.&lt;br /&gt;Yes slowly and sadly we waved a farewell,&lt;br /&gt;Though his spirit already in heavenly realms did dwell;&lt;br /&gt;But his body we tearfully lowered 'neath there,&lt;br /&gt;And the heart of the soldier did send for a prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God help his mother the sad blow to bear,&lt;br /&gt;May God help the widow of him who lies 'neath here;&lt;br /&gt;May he guard the orphans whose little hearts grieve,&lt;br /&gt;That thus no more a father's fond kiss shall recieve.&lt;br /&gt;Then stranger, tread lightly, 'tis holy ground here,&lt;br /&gt;In death's cold embrace the soldier sleepeth there;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the grave of the hero 'neath the grass covered sod.&lt;br /&gt;His spirit's in Heaven, at home with his God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6902977526234124956?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6902977526234124956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6902977526234124956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6902977526234124956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6902977526234124956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/soldiers-grave.html' title='The Soldier&apos;s Grave'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-796158335736944253</id><published>2007-02-10T08:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T18:43:57.924-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='others writings'/><title type='text'>Killed at the Ford</title><content type='html'>This is a poem by Henry W. Longfellow that I did for copy work a while back. I liked it, so I thought I'd put it on here for my readers to enjoy. (Note: blithe means merry, light-hearted.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is dead, the beautiful youth,&lt;br /&gt;The heart of honour, the tongue of truth,&lt;br /&gt; He, the life and light of us all,&lt;br /&gt;Whose voice was blithe as a bugle call,&lt;br /&gt;Whom all eyes followed with one consent,&lt;br /&gt;The cheer of whose laugh, and whose pleasant word,&lt;br /&gt;Hushed all murmurs of discontent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only last night, as we rode along,&lt;br /&gt;Down the dark of the mountain gap,&lt;br /&gt;To visit the picket guard at the ford,&lt;br /&gt;Little dreaming of any mishap,&lt;br /&gt;He was humming the words of some old song:&lt;br /&gt;"Two red roses he had on his cap&lt;br /&gt;And another he bore at the point of his sword."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sudden and swift a whistling ball&lt;br /&gt;Came out of a wood, and the voice was still;&lt;br /&gt;Something I heard in the darkness fall,&lt;br /&gt;And for a moment my blood grew chill;&lt;br /&gt;I spake in a whisper, as he who speaks&lt;br /&gt;In a room where someone is lying dead;&lt;br /&gt;But he made no answer to what I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lifted him up to his saddle again,&lt;br /&gt;And through the mire and the mist and the rain&lt;br /&gt;Carried him back to the silent camp,&lt;br /&gt;And laid him as if asleep on his bed;&lt;br /&gt;And I saw by the light of the surgeon's lamp&lt;br /&gt;Two white roses upon his cheeks,&lt;br /&gt;And one; just over his heart, blood-red!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I saw in a vision how far and fleet&lt;br /&gt;That fatal bullet went speeding forth,&lt;br /&gt;Till it reached a town in the distant North,&lt;br /&gt;Till it reached a house in a sunny street,&lt;br /&gt;Till it reached a heart that ceased to beat&lt;br /&gt;Without a murmur, without a cry;&lt;br /&gt;And a bell was tolled, in that for-off town,&lt;br /&gt;For one who had passed from cross to crown,&lt;br /&gt;And the neighbors wondered that she should die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-796158335736944253?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/796158335736944253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=796158335736944253&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/796158335736944253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/796158335736944253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/killed-at-ford.html' title='Killed at the Ford'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-2814551079012115934</id><published>2007-02-02T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T12:36:55.100-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narrations'/><title type='text'>A Narration on a Portion of Utopia</title><content type='html'>The Question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comment on the following portion of the "Religions of the Utopians" chapter. Do you believe truth in religion will by its own power come to light eventually? Or is the second description below the more likely one?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Furthermore though there be one religion which alone is true, and all other vain and superstitious, yet did he well foresee (so that the matter were handled with reason, and sober modesty) that the truth of its own power would at the last issue out and come to light. But if contention and debate in that behalf should continually be used, as the worst  men be most obstinate and stubborn, and in their evil opinion most constant; he perceived that then the best and holiest religion would be trodden underfoot and destroyed by most vain superstitions, even as good corn is by thorns and weeds overgrown and choked. Therefore all this matter he left undiscussed, and gave to every man free liberty and choice to believe what he would."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The Answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that truth, left alone, will not come to light by itself. Although if christians are really following the truth, they will be going about teaching other people, as in the latter description. So, truth cannot be left alone, and still be truth. Now, you may say that if there are no christians left in all the world, then by what I have just said truth is no longer truth, and there is no more truth left. I believe that the Word of God is a seed, and that anyone that does exactly what that Word tells them to do will be christians. And, I believe that there always has and always will be children of God. (See Daniel 2:44 and Mark 9:1. The kingdom spoken of in Daniel is the Church! This Church shall never be destroyed!)&lt;br /&gt;In the second description, it mentions "contentions and debate." In reality, we ought to be the exact opposite. Instead of beating people over the head for being wrong in their religion, God commands us to "speak the Truth in love" (Ephesians 4:15).&lt;br /&gt;At the end of this selection, it says, "(he) gave to every man free liberty and choice to believe what he would." This is the right thing to do, because God has made each of us free moral agents, which means we can make our own choices. (Like Balaam in Numbers 22:12. God had told him not to go with those men, but later on in verse 34, we read that he had gone with them. God told him not to go, but He did not make him a puppet to do just what He said. Balaam went, whether God wanted him to or not.) God cannot make us believe the truth, and man can't either. Thus, there will be those who do not believe the truth for what it is. However, we as christians must try to convince, with love, those that are astray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-2814551079012115934?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/2814551079012115934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=2814551079012115934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2814551079012115934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2814551079012115934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/narration-on-portion-of-utopia.html' title='A Narration on a Portion of Utopia'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-1324337818594409765</id><published>2007-02-02T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T18:43:10.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Perfect Description</title><content type='html'>The other day when I was doing poetry for school, I came across a sentence (maybe from a poem, I'm not sure) that perfectly describes the Lantor. I don't know who wrote it, otherwise I would give them credit. Here's what it says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my winds a hurricane, and my breath death!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, everything but the tail being a thunderbolt. I don't think the Lantor's tail was that impressive. I just thought that was a good description for my beast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-1324337818594409765?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/1324337818594409765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=1324337818594409765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1324337818594409765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1324337818594409765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/02/pefect-description.html' title='A Perfect Description'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-4218062373349972972</id><published>2007-01-26T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T12:40:54.703-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><title type='text'>The Legend of Nicadiema (part two)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;(If you haven't read the first part, it is in an earlier post.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The next day, the king summoned the prince to come to him in the Great Hall. Standing outside the door waiting to be called in, Prince Anori was almost certain his father would not allow him to go on this quest. “He always said my name meant ‘Safe’, and as long as I was in his hands, I would not come to harm. He doesn’t want me to leave, for he knows I will no longer be under his protection. He does not want me to die, even for my people.” Just then one of the servants came and motioned for him to come. “Now we shall hear his answer,” Anori thought. The massive oak doors swung open, and the Prince, walking erect with confidence, entered the Hall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The prince stopped in front of the King’s throne, and bowed low. “What be your decision, Oh my father?” Prince Anori asked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The king’s steady gaze met with that of his son. “I have inquired of all of my knights, and none would go on this quest for my people. I have sent messengers out to the nearby castles, and still I could not find one who would go. As you have said, if this beast is not destroyed, the people will be destroyed. You must go on this quest.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The Prince nodded. “Am I to go alone?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;“No, I have selected twelve knights that are willing to go on this adventure under your leadership. They await you in the courtyard. They shall go with you, and help you as much as they can, but it is up to you to slay the Lantor.” The Prince bowed once more, and turned towards the door. As he left, his father called, “May the stars watch over you, my son.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Prince Anori looked back, and smiled. “I thank you, father, and may they watch over you as well.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;With this, father and son parted, neither knowing if they would see the other ever again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;*&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;*&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;*&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;As the knights rode through the countryside, it did not seem as though anything was terribly wrong. Or at least, at first. As time went on, signs of the Lantor became more evident. The faces of the villagers became more careworn, and fear shone in their eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;As they rode through one village, the people eyed them with curiosity, but one of them, suspicious, called to them, “Who are you? What do you wish of us? Have you come to take what is ours?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The others hushed him, and whispered, “What if they have come to rescue us? Do not offend them! The one leading them seems to be royalty.” Hearing this, the prince reigned in his horse, and turned in his saddle to face the villagers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“You speak rightly. We have come to destroy the Lantor and to free you from his terror. I am prince Anori, and I am leader of this company.” The people gaped at him in astonishment. They had not realized that their guess had been right: here was the prince himself, here to save them! The villagers now welcomed them gladly, and urged them to stay the night there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The next day, the prince inquired as to where they might find the Lantor. One of the men there spoke up and said, “The village that was destroyed when we sent the messenger is but a few miles from here. But there is no one there now; the Lantor killed many of them, and the rest have fled. However, a little ways beyond is another small town, and there you will find those that can tell you more of the Lantor.” Anori thanked all the villagers for their kindness, and promised to return once the Lantor was slain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-4218062373349972972?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/4218062373349972972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=4218062373349972972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4218062373349972972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4218062373349972972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/01/legend-of-nicadiema-part-two.html' title='The Legend of Nicadiema (part two)'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-985534012055949842</id><published>2007-01-20T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T09:46:57.314-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>The Battle Between Redcross and Sansfoy</title><content type='html'>This is my most recent poem, in dactylic tetrameter. I can't say I'm very proud of it, but I promised to put all my poetry for school on here, so here it is. I don't know how much sense it will make for those of you who haven't read the first book of Edmund Spenser's The Fairy Queen, but I can tell you that Spenser did a much better job than I have here. I highly recommend that you read The Fairy Queen, it's a wonderful piece of classic fantasy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Battle Between Redcross and Sansfoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There was a woman as false as could be,&lt;br /&gt;Tricking the innocent, never to flee&lt;br /&gt;Her name was Fidessa, though no man e'er knew&lt;br /&gt;In truth was Duessa, two faces she drew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Redcross knight she deceived, drew him away&lt;br /&gt;Making him think she did love him that day,&lt;br /&gt;When really destruction for him did she want&lt;br /&gt;Taking him to a bad pagan to taunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waged they a battle, the blood it did flow&lt;br /&gt;Time after time they exchanged blow for blow,&lt;br /&gt;Till Redcross did smite him, he fell to the ground&lt;br /&gt;The battle he'd lost, crumpled he in a mound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-985534012055949842?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/985534012055949842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=985534012055949842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/985534012055949842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/985534012055949842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/01/battle-between-redcross-and-sansfoy.html' title='The Battle Between Redcross and Sansfoy'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-7516559338162734307</id><published>2007-01-13T13:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T13:43:05.954-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Some Haiku</title><content type='html'>Most Haiku has three lines, and the first one has five syllables, the second seven, and the third five. This first one is like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Digger in the sand&lt;br /&gt;Upside-down cone pyramid&lt;br /&gt;Tiny ant lion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is the other kind, where the syllables go six-eight-four. I like this better, mostly because it's not used as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A deer flies by like the wind&lt;br /&gt;At it's heels, a mountain lion&lt;br /&gt;Stalking his lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another one in 6-8-4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of books on my shelf&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful worlds I've lived in&lt;br /&gt;Walking in dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowflakes fall to the ground&lt;br /&gt;White swirls outside my window&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A castle, high on a hill&lt;br /&gt;Pennants flying on the towers&lt;br /&gt;Rustic majesty of old&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-7516559338162734307?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/7516559338162734307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=7516559338162734307&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7516559338162734307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7516559338162734307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/01/some-haiku.html' title='Some Haiku'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-2905723047736813918</id><published>2007-01-05T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T08:26:49.890-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><title type='text'>The Legend of Nicadiema (part one)</title><content type='html'>This is a story I wrote a while back, and I've been revising it. I didn't write a poem this week, so I thought I could put part of this story on here. This isn't all of it, by no means! I'll be posting the rest, all in good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A messenger galloped up the road that led to &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Hillsfare&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype&gt;Castle&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. He had ridden long and hard, and his horse’s sides were heaving, its neck flecked with foam. At the gate, the watchman called “Who goes there?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“A messenger of the people, sent to the king,” the weary man managed to call out. The drawbridge fell with a clang, and the horse, his head hanging from exhaustion, walked across it into the courtyard. Stable boys hurried to help the man dismount, but he was so weak one of the boys had to support him while the others led his horse to the stables. The boy looked with curiosity into the careworn face, but did not question him. He gently led him across the courtyard, to the Great Hall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The floor of the Hall was of stone, and high above arched the massive ceiling. It was so high the top was shrouded in shadows. The Hall was empty, except for a long table stretching from the doorway to the end of the hall. At the far end of the room, sitting at the head of the table, was the king. He sat erect, his white beard flowing over his chest, his hands folded on his lap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Upon their entering, the king looked inquiringly at the messenger. “What tidings do you bring, man of the people?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The messenger raised his head, and took a deep breath. “I come to tell you the Lantor has struck. He is like a huge wildcat with wings sprouting from his shoulders, his jaws dripping with saliva and blood, his claws sharp and terrible. This beast is killing many of the people, destroying their crops, and wiping out their villages. A man from the village near to my own told of his little girl, around the age of twelve, a shepherdess of her own flock. That day she was out in the field with her flock, playing her flute. It was drawing near evening, and she was preparing to return home, when she realized something was frightening the sheep. They bleated loudly, and rolled their eyes in terror. Then to her horror, the Lantor came crashing out of the forest. He scattered her sheep, killing all those he could catch. The girl, despite her fear, attacked the Lantor with the only weapon she had: her shepherd’s staff she used in herding her animals. She stabbed him in the eye, and he howled in pain and in rage. Beating his massive wings in anger, he swiped at her with one of his huge, clawed feet, knocking her senseless, and with another, ended her life.” The messenger stopped to catch his breath. A tear ran down the king’s wrinkled cheek. “What was the girl’s name?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Her family called her Janua,” the messenger answered. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“We shall always remember her for her courage.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The messenger looked up again. “My lord, if there are no people left, there will be no one to remember her. What we need is a brave knight that will fight the Lantor for us, and destroy it.” The messenger lifted his gaze from the king’s face, and fixed it on the young man by his side. He was Prince Anori, and he had been silently listening to the messenger’s tale, and now he looked to the king. “Father, I will go fight this beast.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The king shook his head. “No, my son, you are my only heir; if you were to die in the attempt, who would rule after me?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Roana can rule in my stead. You know my sister could govern all of Nicadiema.” The king muttered something about a woman being on the throne, and then turned to the messenger. “You are hungry, and in need of rest. My servants will lead you to a room where you can rest and recover.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 0.5in;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As the messenger was led out of the Hall, Prince Anori came to stand in front of his father. “If I do not go, then who can you send that would succeed in this endeavor?” The king rose from his throne, his eyes never leaving the prince’s face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“My son, I cannot send you on this perilous journey. Your sister could indeed rule exceedingly well, but what would the people think? The men could not bring themselves to be subject to a woman. It just does not work that way.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;“But the people are dying. If someone does not slay this beast, there will not be anyone left in the kingdom to rule over.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The king sighed, and looked away. “I will give you my answer by tomorrow.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;With this the Prince bowed to his father, turned, and left the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-2905723047736813918?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/2905723047736813918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=2905723047736813918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2905723047736813918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2905723047736813918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2007/01/legend-of-nicadiema-part-one.html' title='The Legend of Nicadiema (part one)'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-7600346483333315432</id><published>2006-12-30T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T09:58:29.088-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>A Haunted house at night</title><content type='html'>Here is this week's poem, in anapestic tetrameter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a dark stormy night I came up to a door&lt;br /&gt;And, wet as can be in that nasty downpour,&lt;br /&gt;I knocked, in the hopes  to escape for a time&lt;br /&gt;The wetness and darkness of that cold nighttime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When no answer I got, that door shoved I open,&lt;br /&gt;And found that abode was not lived in by men&lt;br /&gt;The halls, they were empty and dark as can be,&lt;br /&gt;I thought to abandon the place, and to flee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the thought came to me as I stood in the night&lt;br /&gt;I could either be wet or be dry till daylight,&lt;br /&gt;So I set aside fear and just walked right on in&lt;br /&gt;Never mind that it's dark and that ghosts live within.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-7600346483333315432?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/7600346483333315432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=7600346483333315432&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7600346483333315432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/7600346483333315432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/12/haunted-house-at-night.html' title='A Haunted house at night'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-4723468181391043167</id><published>2006-12-15T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T09:19:57.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A lesson in the grammar of poetry</title><content type='html'>Since I've been posting all this stuff about poetry, I thought I'd post something about the grammar of poetry. I mentioned things like trochaic, iambic, and tetrameter, and for some people, that's practically Greek. I'll try to make this stuff a little clearer.&lt;br /&gt;trochaic and iambic refer to the feet of the poem. Iamb is an unstress, stress, and trochee is stress, unstress. For example, in my poem "Seasons of a tree", it says "beneath the tree there lies a mound." You say that sentence using the pattern unstress, stress. Trochee is the exact opposite. In my poem "My Shadow", the meter goes "'Will you follow me this day?'" That sentence you say with the pattern stress, unstress.&lt;br /&gt;Does that make sense? If your still confused, chant the poems, instead of saying them like you would normally. If it still doesn't make sense, go ask someone else, like Wikipedia.&lt;br /&gt;Other forms of feet are anapest, which goes two unstresses, one stress, (like "with the leaves on the ground"), dactyl, which goes one stress, two unstresses, (such as "down to the creek we run"), and spondee, which goes two stresses (I don't quite understand this one. How can a poem be all stresses and no unstress?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other word I used was tetrameter. This refers to the number of feet in each line of the poem. "My Shadow" and "Seasons of a Tree" both have four feet per line, so they are tetrameter. I think that's pretty standard.&lt;br /&gt;The others are:&lt;br /&gt;momometer - one foot&lt;br /&gt;dimeter - two feet&lt;br /&gt;trimeter - three feet&lt;br /&gt;tetrameter - four feet&lt;br /&gt;pentameter - five feet&lt;br /&gt;hexameter - six feet&lt;br /&gt;heptameter - seven feet&lt;br /&gt;octameter - eight feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that was helpful to someone. Maybe one of these days I'll write about the figures of speech, such as simile and metaphor. Next week I ought to have a poem though. I find it so much easier to write the real thing then to just talk about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-4723468181391043167?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/4723468181391043167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=4723468181391043167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4723468181391043167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/4723468181391043167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/12/lesson-in-grammar-of-poetry.html' title='A lesson in the grammar of poetry'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-983919888390835111</id><published>2006-12-09T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T11:05:52.460-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>My Shadow</title><content type='html'>This is yet another exercise in poetry, this time with trochaic tetrameter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will you follow me this day?"&lt;br /&gt;Called I to my shadow dark&lt;br /&gt;"If the sun shines, then I may&lt;br /&gt;By your side, there will I hark."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long he follows me&lt;br /&gt;Fastened to my side&lt;br /&gt;Always will I talk of "we",&lt;br /&gt;He, from me he cannot hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in the dark of night&lt;br /&gt;Does he leave me by myself&lt;br /&gt;Frolicking until the light&lt;br /&gt;With the books upon my shelf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-983919888390835111?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/983919888390835111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=983919888390835111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/983919888390835111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/983919888390835111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-shadow.html' title='My Shadow'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-1861793413176115303</id><published>2006-12-02T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T08:52:10.697-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Another poem</title><content type='html'>This also is one that I wrote a while back for school, as an exercise of writing in iambic tetrameter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seasons of a tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the tree there lies a mound&lt;br /&gt;Of golden leaves, all on the ground&lt;br /&gt;The wind blows more down with his breath,&lt;br /&gt;And sends them down to certain death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winter comes, as does the cold&lt;br /&gt;The trees, their arms stretch out so bold&lt;br /&gt;The sky of winter to defy&lt;br /&gt;On coming spring do they rely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With spring comes leaves, and buds, and sun&lt;br /&gt;The birds do chirp, the kids do run&lt;br /&gt;The trees are born again to live,&lt;br /&gt;Their shade and beauty to us give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-1861793413176115303?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/1861793413176115303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=1861793413176115303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1861793413176115303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1861793413176115303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/12/another-poem.html' title='Another poem'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-5810629155433322757</id><published>2006-11-29T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:09:55.382-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><title type='text'>Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.</title><content type='html'>This is my Essay for Bible Search, 2006. I know I could have done better, but in one hour, this is what I came up with. And it got third place with a 92%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;The Spiritual Degeneration of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Israel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; The Book of Judges tells of the decline in godliness that the nation of Israel experienced before the kings were established. Back in the book of Joshua, everything had been going well; they had been destroying the people of Canaan as God had said. So what happened, so that by chapter 21 things had gotten so evil? Study with me, as we look at chapter two of the book of Judges, and see what they did, or didn’t do, which ultimately led to their downfall. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;First, let’s look at verse ten of chapter two. “When all that generation had been gathered to their fathers, another generation arose after them who did not know the Lord, nor the work which He had done for Israel.” These people did not know the Lord. Oh, I’m sure they knew “of” Him, but they didn’t really know Him. For example, I can say I know the President, but I really haven’t ever met him, talked with him, and gotten to know him. This is what their situation was like. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;So, whose fault was it that they didn’t know? Well, it was partially their fault, but mostly it was the fault of the previous generation. It was up to them to teach their children, and that was not done. Now, it could have been that they did teach them, and they just didn’t listen, but it seems to me that this would be less likely. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Today, we can learn from this just how important it is to teach our children, as soon as possible about God and His Word, not just by our words, but by our example, too. It is also the work of the church to teach, but first and foremost, it must begin in the home. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Now let’s look at verses 11 through 15. Here is described the cycle of Judges. First they sin. Then the Lord sells them into the hands of their enemies. Then they cry out to the Lord for deliverance. The Lord raises up a judge to deliver them. Then they sin, and the list starts over. On and on this went for years and years. And it says that with every generation it got worse! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;In Palm 1:1-2 we read, “Blessed is the man who walks not in the council of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night.” By the verses in Judges two, we see that they were doing the exact opposite of this man. And since the man in Psalms was blessed, so the Israelites were not blessed. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;One of their big problems can be seen in Judges 3:6. “And they took their daughters to be their wives, and gave their daughters to their sons, and they served their gods.” By intermarrying with the people of Canaan, and thus serving their gods, they fell away. We can see from this example how important it is to marry those that are christians. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Next, let’s read verses 16-19. In these verses we see that the people of Israel chose to without the longsuffering of God. He freely offered to love them and protect them, if they would only obey Him. Instead they chose to take their own path. But then, if they got themselves in trouble, the figured they could just cry out to God, and He would deliver them. Well, we see later in chapter 10 that God tells them to cry out to the gods they have chosen. Mockingly He says that surly they will deliver them. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;From this we can learn how important it is for us to realize the many blessings He has given us. We must never take them for granted. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Last, let’s look at verses 20-23. The Lord is going to leave those nations which are left, in order to test Israel. Later in chapter three, we see, particularly in verse six, that they failed this test. Folly shattered their future. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;We must be careful that we do not fall into the mistakes the Israelites did, lest we too shatter both our future, and that of our children. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-5810629155433322757?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/5810629155433322757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=5810629155433322757&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5810629155433322757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5810629155433322757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/11/everyone-did-what-was-right-in-his-own.html' title='Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-2434561384386756114</id><published>2006-11-29T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:11:24.497-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narrations'/><title type='text'>Who decides what is right and wrong?</title><content type='html'>This week is exam week, and all we do is exam questions. This is my answer to the question for "Whatever Happened to Justice?", our Government book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;   &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Whatever Happened to Justice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;   &lt;i&gt;Discuss the differences between Common Law and Political Law. Tell why living under Political Law can be dangerous, and cite some examples of Political Law in action from the past and the present.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; For the most part, when we think of law, we think there is only one kind of law. However, there are two kinds. One is Common Law, also known as Scientific Law. Most people don’t even know about this kind of law. The basis of this law is two fundamental laws: (1) do all you have agreed to do, and (2) do not encroach on other people or their property. Everyone must obey these laws, even the people in charge, like politicians. Scientific Law is science, a discovery. No one can just make up law. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The other is Political Law. This is the kind of law we are familiar with today. This is law that is made up by the people in charge. This can also be the voters. If a politician breaks a law, he can just change the law to get himself out of trouble. Laws are constantly changing, so there is no way we can plan ahead. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;It is because of this that Political Law is so dangerous. One day we may be doing what’s legal, the next it might be illegal. Who decides what is right and wrong? There is no steadfast standard. Civilization goes backward when we as all people don’t obey the two fundamental laws. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;An example of Political Law in history is Hitler and the things he did. He was legally elected by the people. Everything he did was legal under the laws of Germany. But, he broke the second fundamental law, and things got bad. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;An example of Political Law today is the issue of abortion. If we vote for it to be legal, it’s legal. If we vote for it to be illegal, it’s illegal. It can change virtually overnight. And, abortion is breaking the second fundamental law by killing unborn humans. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;   &lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Living under Political Law is dangerous and scary. May we strive to bring back the stability and safety of the Common Law. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-2434561384386756114?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/2434561384386756114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=2434561384386756114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2434561384386756114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/2434561384386756114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/11/whatever-happened-to-justice.html' title='Who decides what is right and wrong?'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-8178633671390025036</id><published>2006-11-27T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:12:15.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The original Nonsublunary is disappearing</title><content type='html'>OK, what I'm really going to do is rename this one "Nonsublunary", and delete my other blog by that name. Quite a mess. But, I thought I'd let you readers know that, so you don't get confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-8178633671390025036?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/8178633671390025036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=8178633671390025036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/8178633671390025036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/8178633671390025036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/11/nonsublunary-is-disappearing.html' title='The original Nonsublunary is disappearing'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-1977213978409686471</id><published>2006-11-25T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T10:25:55.121-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Two untitled poems written as an exercise in rhyming</title><content type='html'>For these poems, we were supposed to find words that rhyme in the rhyming dictionary, and make a poem out of them. The first is my favorite, though I think the second has more interesting meter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There stood a boy, Pierre&lt;br /&gt;In that grand and regal square&lt;br /&gt;And on his face there was a stare&lt;br /&gt;For, hanging in the chill night air&lt;br /&gt;There, before all eyes was bare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ominous nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out from the midst of that great throng&lt;br /&gt;There rose an earnest chief&lt;br /&gt;Who began to sing out great and strong&lt;br /&gt;A love song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song, it was a rich motif&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful, though long&lt;br /&gt;Many did pull forth their handkerchief&lt;br /&gt;That ode to spinach leaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His song, it became so long&lt;br /&gt;The crowd wished for a relief&lt;br /&gt;But they found that, all along&lt;br /&gt;There was no love song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That song, it was not to spinach leaf,&lt;br /&gt;But was a longing for a lunch&lt;br /&gt;Of corned beef!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-1977213978409686471?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/1977213978409686471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=1977213978409686471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1977213978409686471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/1977213978409686471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/11/two-untitled-poems-written-as-exercise.html' title='Two untitled poems written as an exercise in rhyming'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-3571580000683947460</id><published>2006-11-25T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:14:46.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nonsublunary</title><content type='html'>OK, OK. It's been a while since I put anything on here. My excuse is I haven't had anything to say. Today I just thought I'd poke my head in and see how things are doing here, and I found out I could move my original blog, Nonsublunary, to blogger beta. Well, I'm starting to like Nonsublunary 2, so I'm going to keep using it. I'll still have the original around, but I won't be putting anything new on it.&lt;br /&gt;OK, so I haven't had anything to say. That's about to change. For school we are studying poetry, and I'm supposed to write a poem every week, and for the most part I do. I'm going to start putting those poems on here, even if I think they are trash, so all of you who try to read this blog, and find there is nothing to read, will have something to look at. I may also put my narrations on here, depending if I think they are worthy.&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to write my poem this week, I'm supposed to write one about something sad that has happened to me. So far I haven't found anything of this sort to write about. I guess that's a good thing. Depends on who you ask.&lt;br /&gt;So then, I will post a poem from a few weeks past, and maybe eventually I will write my sad poem. Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-3571580000683947460?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/3571580000683947460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=3571580000683947460&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/3571580000683947460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/3571580000683947460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/11/nonsublunary.html' title='Nonsublunary'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-5948427281214302832</id><published>2006-09-18T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T15:12:00.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger beta!</title><content type='html'>Well, here's my try at blogger beta. My brother told me about it, and so I thought I'd check it out. I think it's pretty cool, all the different things you can do. I haven't tried messing with the template yet, but I will! We'll see if Blogger beta really is better than the old blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-5948427281214302832?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/5948427281214302832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=5948427281214302832&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5948427281214302832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/5948427281214302832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/09/blogger-beta.html' title='Blogger beta!'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111759293376265954.post-6374330794791059386</id><published>2006-09-18T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T14:56:40.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>The Empty page&lt;br /&gt;He sneers at me&lt;br /&gt;Telling me&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing to say,&lt;br /&gt;My writing's no good,&lt;br /&gt;I never get&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts straight.&lt;br /&gt;I never win the battle with words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words&lt;br /&gt;They are my enemies&lt;br /&gt;I must wrestle with them&lt;br /&gt;Catch them by the hair&lt;br /&gt;So they can't slip out of my grasp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pin them to the mat&lt;br /&gt;Flat on their back&lt;br /&gt;Make them say&lt;br /&gt;What I want them to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to the page&lt;br /&gt;I laugh at him&lt;br /&gt;And cover his face&lt;br /&gt;With my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;My images&lt;br /&gt;My music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2111759293376265954-6374330794791059386?l=nonsublunary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/feeds/6374330794791059386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2111759293376265954&amp;postID=6374330794791059386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6374330794791059386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2111759293376265954/posts/default/6374330794791059386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonsublunary.blogspot.com/2006/09/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>Nione</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10203279986040804919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0SmJ5aeCWt4/SvmvkvhNZeI/AAAAAAAAABY/NP8Z8tqjaI0/S220/chorale+workshop+pic'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
