competition

We as fallen, human beings, are bred for competition. It is amazing what a little meaningless contest can do to a room of tired and bored first and second graders. I work with the children's ministry at The Woodlands United Methodist Church, and every Sunday I along with another intern and my boss baby sit a room full of elementary kids. We sing songs from this DVD and the kids are always semi into it, but whenever a contest between boys or girls or 1st and 2nd graders is mentioned, the room goes wild. It's great to hear them all singing and laughing and having a good time, but behind it, I also think about why they are singing so loud, and it is because they want to win. These kids are the same as all of us, we all want to win, and I'm just dang sick of it. We want a bigger church with more members than anyone else, we want to be the best. I want to just move away with a colony of losers to the south island of New Zealand and start a colony.


Anyone with me?

A Sonnet For 1302

Our teacher assigned us to write a Shakespearean Sonnet because of the poetry were discussing in class. We had to write exactly 14 lines, with 10 syllables on each line. In the first twelve lines, we needed to describe a problem, introduce an issue, or pose a question. In the last two lines, we were instructed to resolve the proglem, make general comments or conclusions, or answer the question. A strict pattern for stressed and unstressed syllables and another pattern for end rhymes was issued. Here is my work:

Three men rise from the backseat of the van,

A sly, evil chuckle emits from each.

A crowbar, a knife, and gloves on each hand,

They are coming for me, I cannot screech.

These terrible men, seen more than one time,

Their deathly stare paralyzes my feet.

But my friend, always with more luck than mine,

Runs to safety, while I'm left in the seat

Still motionless, these figures creep closer,

Their ghastly, mobster image grows clearer.

One man directs like a composer,

Directs them to come, nearer and nearer.

Then really, nothing is what it has seemed,

The terror is but a dream, only a dream.