Rambling: Colorado Trip

For the curious, I've posted some of my pictures from the Lost Valley trip here. Choose the Lost Valley album to see some of the sights of the 2005 trip.

Rambling: The Secret Lives of Teachers, pt II

Last time, we discussed the topic of teachers and free time. Now, I want to expand on that idea some more. (Danger: continued large amounts of tongue-in-cheek writing ahead.)
Teachers, as we saw last time, are really robots. This is why teachers have no free time. It is also why teachers don't care about having their names shortened. Mr. Quistinifarfablus was content to go by "Mr. Q" not because his full name was so hard to pronounce or spell, but because his real name was English Instructional Unit 42049. Any other name is merely an alias. Each robot's true name is based on the subject taught. So, an Science Teacher might be Science Instructional Unit 238 (SI U238) and a music teacher by be Musical Instructional Assistant 440 (MI A440). Thus, a teacher's true name, known only by the teachers themselves and used only among themselves when students are not present, serves as a unique identifier. Each robot then chooses its own "handle" or external name using a random word/suffix generation algorithm. This is why so many teachers have such odd names. You thought Mrs. Wimpee just married into an unfortunate name. Nothing of the sort -- it was the handle chosen by the name generation algorithm.
Now, someone will object to this idea of teachers being robots by saying, "I talked with my teacher at the mall" or "My teacher was my basketball coach, too." In each of those situations, the "person" the student interacted with was not his Instructional Unit (IU), but another robot built to look exactly like the teacher. This other unit, called a Fully Automated Unit eXternal (FAUX), activates when the IU shuts down. The FAUX serves to create the illusion that the teacher is a real person, not a machine. It is this robot that people see leaving school at the end of the day. Each FAUX follows more or less the same programmed routine, although there are some minor deviations, depending on whether the "teacher" is involved in any extra-curricular activities. Each unit leaves school, completes any one of several "normative appearances" (such as coaching sports or shopping), drives to a pre-determined residential dwelling, and then enters the dwelling to begin its secondary mission -- being a political analyst for a cable television news network.
Alas, this is all that I may reveal. Indeed, I must conclude this discussion before I reveal any more and draw the wrath of the National Union of Teachers Synthetic (NUTS). So, for now, please be nice to your teachers, lest your poor behavior cause their synaptic pathways to overload and melt down.

Poem: Free

Free
No longer ruled by a tyrant
The cruel tyrant, the evil desires
Which I hated yet clung to
As a precious trinket

Free
As a slave redeemed remuneratively
By the power of another
Rather than by mine
For what means has a slave?

Free
Not by my own actions
Nor by the hands of any
Save of Him who saved me
By bearing my curse for me

Free
By trust alone, by faith
Reason, knowledge, status, power
All did naught to rescue me
Only trust in my Rescuer’s payment

Free
Now ruled by right
Able to do what I ought
Bound to Him who chose me
To be a bond-slave willing

Free
Heading to the goal
That all were originally built for
Before we turned away
Eternity in our hearts, long ignored

Free
And fleeing, like bird ensnared,
From the trap to the glory
Of being as I was made to be
Forever pure, forever with Him

Free
Yet not perfect
Forgetful of who and whose I am
Returning to my old habit
And besmirching the name of my Master

Free
One day fully will I indeed be
And in that day of feasting with Him
Will the strive and the strain
Prove to be worth it all

Rambling: The Secret Lives of Teachers

When you were in school, you may have wondered, "What do my teachers do once school's out? What do they do with their spare time?" Being a teacher, I am in a unique position to answer that question. So, I thought I would give all of you curious students a behind-the-scenes look at what teachers do when the students aren't around. (Danger: extreme amounts of tongue-in-cheek writing ahead.)
The question "What do teachers do in their spare time" is a poor question to ask. It ranks up there with questions like "Is this seat taken?" and "Hey, good lookin', is your father a thief, 'cause someone stole the stars and put them in your eyes."
You see, teachers have no spare time, but not for the reason you think. You see, teachers do not lack spare time because they are so busy with grading, planning lectures, writing tests, grading some more, and then grading after that.
No, teachers lack spare time because teachers are actually robots. That's right, teachers are merely instructional automatons who shut down once all the students have left the building. Your high school math teacher, for example, was not named Mr. Walters, but Math Instructional Unit 101537, and once all of his students left for the day, he returned to his charging station (also known as his desk chair) to recharge for the next day. (That was, by the way, why he rarely got his grading done. He was always recharging.)
Incidentally, this is why teachers are so protective of their desk chairs. You always thought it was a power trip issue. And it is a sense, just not in the way you think, for if a non-robot sits in a robot-charging chair for too long, the intense current coursing through the person's body will cause nerve and brain damage that will render the unfortunate occupant of the chair less coherent than the US Tax Code.
I would discuss this in more detail, but I am limited on space. So, for now, you know a little. Maybe some day, I'll write some more.

Poem: In All Things...

The light, it shines for such a brief moment
The hope that maybe, possibly, could it be?
A glimmer, a thought, a whim, a longing
Could it finally be? Could it finally be?
And then it fades, disappearing like the vapor
It was vapor, a mere imagining, a construct
Of my desperate mind, trying to make something
Where nothing was there at all, nothing at all
It hurts, it hurts for such a brief moment
To have my dreams demolished by reality.
Sighing, longing, pouting, foolish man
Did not the One who made you know this day?
Did He not plan for it? Is He caught off guard?
So, pout not. Cease not your hope. Chase not idols.
Put your trust in Him. Let Him work.
He has it all set out, and when you see it
Experience it, live it, revel in it
Then will you know, without equivocation
That nothing less than this, His best
Would ever have satisfied you and glorified Him

Poem: Stirring

This stirring I feel
I know what it means
It means You will call
Me away from here
This state I have known
In which I feel safe

For comfort in life
Too easily can
Become my real god
And worshipping it,
I stop listening
To Your voice speaking

Yet You don't let me
Worship the idol
You reach out and shake
My life and pull off
The familiar
And the things I've known

I try to shrink, hiding,
Forgetting Your love,
Your great love for me
I cling to my pet,
My precious poison,
Afraid of Your best

But I know Your best
Is in completeness
Not security
Of circumstances
And this I remind
My faltering mind

For love I You more
Than safety and ease
So Your will will I
Follow completely
With joy, excitement,
Fear, wonder, and praise

Rambling: Soccer, Ducks, and Random Thoughts

This past week has been awash with soccer activity. I've refereed and coached in numerous games. As much as I love soccer, I think I'm starting to tire of it. Good thing that I will have a week off coming up soon. Today's games were enjoyable, even the first game, which had a foul committed about every 5 minutes. The two teams decided that they were more interested in beating on each other than playing soccer. That certainly keeps a referee on his toes.
On the lighter side of things, I just read an article that a duck has decided to set up a nest in, of all places, a pile of mulch next to tree beside the Treasury Department in Washington, DC. I wonder if it has a permit to do that? :-)
A few random thoughts to close out the week:
--Being strict is not the same as being mean.
--The Gospel should take precedence in my life, yet it often doesn't.
--Kansas voters got it right on Tuesday when they passed an amendment to the state constitution that defined marriage as between one man and one woman. For now, the institution of marriage is a little better protected. Now, the next problem is the insanely-high divorce rate...
--How high will gas prices have to get before Americans get wise enough to buy fuel-efficient vehicles and switch to alternative fuels? How long before we have a hydrogen economy instead of a petroleum economy?
--Einstein was wrong. There is something that moves faster than the speed of light. It is a rumor. :-)

Rambling: A Fun Night

I've been to a couple of weddings lately, and there will be at least two more before July. I have to say, though, that last night's wedding and reception was the more fun of the two. Of course, any time you have a wedding involving two large "clans" as you did last night, you know that the wedding is going to be full of people. And that was the case here, which is what made the night so enjoyable. I got to talk with several people that I haven't seen in months, from former students to former students' parents to old friends that I haven't seen for at least 6 months. I even got a little bit of swing dancing in . I'm sure I won't hear the end of it from my students, either. I can just hear it now, "Who was that woman you were dancing with, Mr. Seidel?" I'll have to spend three or four days trying to defuse rumors of impending romance. Of course, I'm glad they care enough to ask. And it was worth it, since I had fun. Now, on to the next adventure! Afer all, one of these days, one of those rumors might actually turn into reality, if God is so willing.