Essay

I am very distressed. So much for my immunity gig which has gone on for months; I have a spring cold! I'm quite disgruntled about it. So, to spare you from the inevitable dumping which blogging at this moment would entail, I'm posting one of my recent government essays just for fun, and saving an actual update for later this week. For you, dear Reader, I post a sample of my "formal" work, and anyone who has read the fictional pieces of mine might be surprised to find parallels between descriptions in the fiction as compared to the formal stuff. I tend to wax verbose either way. Please note that the following is copyrighted, and the source of the essay and thesis are rights reserved to Zeezok Publishers, 2010.

Essay
“Regression to Foundations”
3-19-10


In a culture (indeed, a world) that is slowly but surely rambling towards being completely secularized, the flexibility of our governments is gradually slipping into greater leniency. Implied powers prescribe disaster in far too many cases, and this is even more true when applied to the First Amendment. How can we uphold the expression of this amendment without yielding our standards to secular fingers?
The First Amendment to the Constitution states that citizens who bend with the laws of our government are to receive the freedoms of religion, speech, press, the right to peaceable assembly and the redress of grievances. Unfortunately, lawmakers who have perhaps too good a way with words are daily twisting these expressed and implied powers, amending right and left, planning to give us rights tomorrow that we do not have today. In a culture becoming so entirely saturated in this carnal freedom, the rights which are being abused to the point of morphing the government itself into a non-Biblical establishment existing only to fill the pockets of people who fancy themselves just, we have to be careful. Of all the amendments, the first one is perhaps the one most preyed upon because of its apparent flexibility and dramatically wide scope. How are we to stand against the waves of secularism crashing against these rulings?
Before we can possibly know how to protect ourselves against being pulled under by those who wish to twist the First Amendment according to their temporary wants, we must understand what exactly is being said within the text itself. Ratified on December 15, 1791, this impressive statement sought to heal the bulk of potential injustices a single man could suffer by giving him overwhelming rights. To quote directly from the Constitution, we read that the First Amendment exists to insure that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” As John Locke displays in his extensive written philosophies on the “natural rights of man”, the government with all its laws and amendments should be up and running to secure the rights of man, not to abridge or violate them. The First Amendment helps to assert a big part of these natural rights and how the government should respond to those who come with complaints of having been somehow deprived.
Because we are human and basically sinful, the idea pops into our heads that we may abuse the First Amendment and manipulate it to fit our individual needs. Suddenly the rights to freedom become the “right” to practice obscure religions that contradict the biblical foundation of the Constitution itself. The right to freedom of speech abruptly means that we can insult our fellow man; freedom of the press means that ink is capable of taking on malignant life, and peaceable assembly becomes riots in the streets of shadowed freedom. In order to secure the rights of redressed grievances, we feel that we have to take useless court requests to a legality that will (possibly) fulfill our lust for revenge. The First Amendment is easily taken out of context, and so is our behavior.
The Constitution gives us principles that align themselves with the principles found in the Bible, the natural rights God Himself wishes to be secured for His children. Our individual consciences, although given guidelines, are unprincipled and we are free to translate the First Amendment in accordance with what we believe to be true and good. We can use the First Amendment to provide natural rights and fair play for our brothers, or we can abuse it and move with the secular flow of humanity; thus is the savage beauty of being a free people.

No longer will I be silent.

I read something rather interesting this morning in Home Ec., explaining how too many people (especially nowadays, in this world injected with fast service fighting for your tax dollars and immediate results to more than you could ever take advantage of anyway, and the virtual world sneering at your bewildered stare lit up by the ghostly glow of the computer screen) flit from one thing to another, trying to complete that elusive checklist, trying to get things done and not actually gleaning anything from all that energy wasted on trying. It's push, pull, shove and throw away. Get it done, get it done fast, and who cares whether you actually grow mentally or spiritually from the experience of having done whatever the task is? Completing it is all that matters, right? Get ahead of every Tom, Dick or Harry that threatens your position, climb higher on that social ladder, be the best and then grab all the honors for yourself instead of giving them over to God, Who invested His sweet life into you in the first place so that you could be given the chance to wear life out for Him, even if it meant losing everything. Think on this for a minute: The Creator, Who lifted His finger and molded the giant mountains rising over roaring waves that still at His fragrant whisper; the God Who parted the raging tumult of the Red Sea for Moses, Who gave inspiration through His Spirit directly to spill onto a dusty parchment by the flickering candles, a rustic variation of a pen wielded by an apostle bent double in the deep of the night; the God Who watched the precious blood of His own Son being poured onto the ground for the transgressions of a people who often curse His very name...this God, Who set the universe to spinning and hears every scream of the aborted child, He wants to dip us in the streams of life and wishes to carry us through every tiny throe of reality, every character flaw that can, by His power, be shaped into something beautiful. He wants to shield us from every shrieking demon, who will scatter like so many dust motes at the mention of His awesome authority. This is the God Who is our strong tower, truly a base of affection and unquenchable love that is waiting with arms thrown wide open and Who is ever constant when the darkness is pulled over your clear vision. God, Who cares of something so little as my shattered self-esteem when I realized this afternoon that I literally cannot do another chemistry test, is willing to rest my head against His throbbing heart, to give me strength and life and beauty for His name's sake. He is willing to do the same to anyone reading these pathetic words, typed by hands wishing only to serve He Who made them able to flex and move with the overspill of words banging about inside my head. Simply be still and know. Let your heart taste His presence, let your heart be softened by tears of the unspeakable joy that carried our Savior through the torments of dying the brutal death of a criminal, the joy that surges through the weakened veins of precious martyrs whose groans are cherished by the God they suffer for, the joy which arises in the faithful as they spread the bounty of truth found in the Gospels even though it could cost them their safety, shelter, perhaps their lives. Such a thrilling hope for eternity, the washing of our blackened sins in the blood of Christ, the protection that will strengthen us no matter how bad the circumstance or how hopeless and unfair the situation...isn't all of this worth living, dying, drinking the passion with which God loves us. He wants to grow in intimacy with us, wants to hold us and fondle our broken hearts. No matter how many times the culture will pick Christianity apart, call the biblical accounts merely fairy tales or violent histories of bloody battles, no matter how loud the cynics shout or the heathen carouse in the temple of our Father, how matter how broken our bodies or bruised our testimonies, there will always be the love of the Father for us. Taste of His beauty, let it fill you, grow in a relationship with the only One capable of saving you from the fires of what will occur after this world has ended its last writhe and submits to the authority with which God will end its existence. He reigns, dear Reader; He is alive, still beautiful, and He loves you with such fervency as you nor I could ever fathom, though we live till the days are black with evil and our weary minds dragging with all the knowledge and experience this spinning globe could possibly give us. He is Who will remain, the only One constant, the only love sufficient. He deserves so much more than a cold glance cast to the heavens when you think about it. He gave the blood of His veins for us; how can we do any less?

For the betterment of society! (Not to mention yourself.)

Every now and then I'll throw a couple links onto the Miasma for worthy sites. *clears throat and looks official* Today I'd like to direct your attention to two worthy blogs in particular. I've been meaning to do this forever, and have finally found the wits to throw these links up for your viewing pleasure.
http://siblings-as-friends.blogspot.com/
"The Sibling Challenge" was created for an outlet in which to spread tips and ideas on how to fuse a closer relationship with your siblings, and for those of you who have the little (or older) dears, you know how important this is. The creator of the blog, my dear friend and "sister" Laura, hopes to jumpstart motivation because as all relationships, making a bond with your siblings that will last is vitally important but often hard to throw into play. Posts are written by Laura (who happens to be an authority on siblings seeing as how she has seven on earth) and guest writers who add their voice to this sometimes complex subject. You are welcomed to become a member there, or to contact her in order to contribute to the site's contents. To view Laura's personal blog, go here: http://shieldmaiden-for-god.blogspot.com/
The more recent blog I'm shamelessly promoting right now was created in the past week by my partner in crime and close friend Onna Chareth: http://streetpreacherwannabe.blogspot.com/
Another radical spouting Bible verses? Not so, for I know her logic to be sound and on this steadfast blog you will find the overspill of her faith, written in hopes of touching someone with the truth of the Gospel. As a Christian myself, I understand how important it is that we spread the beautiful news of God's sweet salvation, and blogging has become in recent years an excellent outlet. Cheers to Onna for taking advantage of the opportunity! To view her personal blog, go here: http://onnachareth.livejournal.com/
For future reference, links to both these blogs can be found on the sidebar to your left.
I hope you will take a moment and visit these slivers of cyberspace, for they are both greatly needed in these fallen times.
Disclaimer: The author of "Beautiful Miasma" is in no way responsible for any spamming the aforementioned blogs might receive on account of being linked to from this site. Consider spamming a compliment.

Along these lines.

Friday (see most recent post) was eventful after I got off Junior and got ready for rehearsal. The theatre director jumped the main role on me during the practice and I hadn't gone over the script copy I received since a month or two ago, so that was a tad harrowing. I asked my little sister to help me because I've really been struggling lately with the way my personal performance has been falling lamely against my own ears. It would be snobbish to state that I study behavioral patterns in people, but when you stick your foot into being a silent observer who draws information from one or two sources, you find yourself noticing repetition in the way people behave! People-watching is so entertaining, try it sometime. But I digress. I've been watching how "big actors" discipline themselves, how they make use of their facial and physical features, etc. Obviously with theatre, where the people in the back of the audience will be straining at times (especially if the stagecraft is off) to understand what's apparently being implied. You have to exaggerate everything: talk louder, move faster, appear larger and sing with huge vocals to make an impression. On camera, of course, these things don't matter as much because the camera can simply zoom in on what they want to enlarge or express in fuller detail. Since I don't know whether God wants me to create more of a foundation for myself in acting, I want to do the best I can just in case; in theatre there has to be a fine balance between getting the point across, that what the character is feeling has been felt by your own senses, but you also have to make it exaggerated. Sometimes balancing this out, being convincing while not appearing stupid with over-exaggeration, but still maintaining the hands-on style of live theatre, is incredibly hard. So my sister and I are going to attack the script and since she and I have seen scores of movies together and commented on the acting styles, as it were, she's going to be my "coach". Not writing anything at present leaves me with too much space inside my head that has sought to crush me. I have to fill it up with something. Right now, I feel that the space should be storage for acting improvement and study for the quickly-approaching ACT.
Why am I dumping about theatre, late the night of a time change, the next morning being Monday? I've been reading "Blog" by Hugh Hewitt, and while I complained to myself about it at first being slow and way too...informational, it improved quickly and I got motivated. I feel confident that blogging on Sunday will jump-start me into the twice-a-week thing, which...hasn't exactly been panning out lately, huh. Now I can relax until the week is moseying along and I have more to say. I have promos for several blogs that I hope will be thrown up later this week. (You know who you are...)
Notice the title is my own. I'm moving up in the world!

"The sun...Through costly-coloured glass and paper-mended window...shed its equal ray." -Dickens, "Oliver Twist"

I've taken to quoting random clips from poems or pieces of literature because it has been made painstakingly evident that I cannot come up with original titles of my own. Ironic, seeing as how I'm a writer...
I deliberately overslept this morning and reawoke to find a fine mist prowling around the yard, shouldered aside by chilled breezes and then swishing around the budding branches with new fervor. I can't understand why droopy, foggy, damp weather depresses some people. It inspires me, especially when mist rolls in around the black hills surrounding our house after sunset, and one can see winking lights beyond the woods from sleepless strangers roaming in their silent houses. I should post something of substance, bash through this headache, but blogging has taken on a satisfying journalism-style pleasure and so not every post will find me ranting about one thing or other. I do have several ideas, but I think I'll save those for a post when I have more time to think the points of my argument through. Right now, Friday is surrounding me with its playful paradox of being lazily busy. There is a theatre rehearsal this afternoon and Momsie's making focaccia bread for dinner tonight, an Italian recipe that makes so much poufy seasoned bread that it stands as a meal on its own, and also a recipe that has been thoroughly lauded at my house.
I've discovered Dickens to be a slow but amusing author. I had to read "Oliver Twist" for school and found myself laughing aloud. I rarely laugh (or cry, as in poor Javert's case) over books, so it really says something about his writing abilities. As I am greatly in need of laughter right now, I say huzzah for Dickens.
And why, the dear Reader asks, is Pip again in such a foul state of mind? I was talking with Mom about school last night and she brought up the prospect of ACT prep tests and needing to find some fairly soon so that I can start practicing. I wandered upstairs (being off the hook over dishes because I made *poisoned* dinner) to think seriously about this. It's less than a month until I take the ACT and because me getting a job is not looked upon with good humor over here, I need to score really well so that a scholarship comes into question. Then I started thinking about college and all the things I won't be able to do because my time will be spent with flurried studying, and then what will I do with my life (oh broad questions, how I loathe thine influence upon mine poor soul...) after that. Add all this sudden thought to my listening of NPR [wvtf.org] and hearing about what state the economy is in and the current political goings-on and this book I read about what a Christian might expect to face when they get into college and are faced with conflicting worldviews and...I'm just overwhelmed. There is so much that I didn't know, so many things I have to start taking into account, so many sudden realizations about my position and the realism of what my life should account for (plus my apparent lack of aptness when confronting chances to "grasp life", as it were) and que me fighting desperately not to drown in all this washing despair. I am not one to be dragged under and I am an unquenchable optimist, but I'm in that annoying sensory overload mode right now because I guess I wasn't letting myself realize so much, and it was like a door opened and I was pushed into boiling darkness. Not intentionally, but perhaps of my own doing. Sitting here with the plash of raindrop on dead leaves and still tasting coffee on my breath, the world seems so far away. But one of these days, whether it be by a gradual journey into the "unknown realm" or a sudden and swift bash over the head (like last night), I will come up against actual odds and will have to know things in order to combat it. Fearful? Not in the least. Just startled. Very, very startled...

"...close up those barren leaves/come, and bring with you a heart/that watches and receives." -Wordsworth

Momsie told me this morning that when she feels spring festering the cold blisters from the seemingly dead flowerbeds, it's hard to stay indoors bent over schoolbooks intent on drawing your attention away from the mellowing sunshine. Books have their place: being read out on the front porch! This morning was a whirl of activity, what with catching up on schoolwork that had been neglected, due to a "girl's day out" yesterday in town, and helping Mom to get out the door for her gardening class. After she was gone, the Girls and I put Loomis (my cat) in the upstairs bathroom, opened the front door, and enjoyed the smells from my little sister's baking lemon cake. We all three got outside and did some yard work and I made some peppermint-lavender sun tea, which turned out very well served up with the cake at a tea party when Momsie got back home. It felt so good, toting ivy and dead leaves back and forth from the beds to the compost piles, feeling the sun warming the back of my t-shirt, enjoying talking with my siblings after several days of unstoppable depression (due to hormones, I guess...the source is blurry, though; those questioning phases have struck again, praise God for His patience...) and hours spent doing barely anything besides reading. I'm reading a beautiful book for school called "The Gift of Music" (Smith/Carlson) and am falling in love with classical music all over again. Music and sunshine just seem to go together, eh? I would encourage you to do something, no matter how little, to celebrate the changing season where you live; open a window, dance outside if it's raining, make a couple notes about the hue of the sunset compared to what it appeared as last week when winter was still stubbornly clinging to the velvet sky.
...sorry. I get fits of missing my sleeping writing, but these outbursts are never loud enough to awaken it. I'll just pour some of this excess yearning into blogposts and torment you, dear Reader, instead of embarking on another such venture as a novel just yet. Not ready to get tortured again.
I figure God wants me to take risks and grab chances whenever I can, so I acted on that desire to at least try falling over a convenient edge. I signed up for an update on the open casting call the TV show "Glee" is running. I figure I'd be none the worse for seeing if they're auditioning somewhere nearby. Which reminds me. Recently I come across a view of actors/actresses that was rather vehemently opposed to them getting so much credit when their personal lives are often so shabby, and when the glory goes to them instead of God. While I can understand that viewpoint, often what matters to me is not who the actor in question is off camera, but how well they can act. I think it's sad that so many actors seek vain self-glorification, but acting is an art, just like painting or dancing or composing or writing or *fill in the blank*. It should be treated with such, and the substance of the individual's performance on the camera should say something about whether they're on the right foot: whether they're willing to put out an effort to seize a passion and love it dearly, which may in time lead to using that love for bringing God glory. One never knows. I can only hope that we who believe God is Creator of passion and love will not stand silent and sulking, and not leave the fascinating art of performance to be grabbed by secular fame-seekers. My two cents.
The poem from which the post title was extracted actually rubs me the wrong way. All but the quoted part, that is. *grins* Wordsworth repeatedly bashes books as dull, stupid, not needed...and then rabbles about near-pantheistic communion with nature. I can call him a tree-hugger because I was from the Northwest. It's like calling Baptists fried chicken eaters when you are one yourself. (And where did that comparison get started in the first place? I'm sure there are KFCs in the North...) Nice and paradoxical. Rabbit trail. Point of it being, Wordsworth has very few worthy things to say about knowledge from books, so don't go on a search specifically for his stuff if you liked the post title and are hoping for rich poetical wisdom in his grating book-bashing. Ain't gonna happen.

Oh moderation, how long wilst thou evade mine musings...

I'm not sure if anyone bothers with the tags on my posts; I certainly hope not, because I'm not imaginative at all when it comes to "tagging" posts. Tags of mine seem to come out as either stupid or dull, neither characteristics I wish to promote in the high realm of typos, run-ons and general grammatical fumblings. <-- Not to mention made up words.
Today held a multitude of disconcerting and startling packages. Where to start? I'm having a sensory overload (typical of me nowadays).
*Spoiler* I suppose I should start with my deep grief over the suicide of dear Javert. I mentioned that I was reading "Les Miserables" and loving it, and the loving part remained true to the very last beautiful sentence. I am now obsessed with it, and anything related to that magnificent work of literature. However. The one drawback I have with it now is that JAVERT DIES. I could not believe it. Javert was everything a villain should be: cold, merciless, self-contained, suspicious, perceptive, dark-hearted and nearly inhuman. Although I disagreed somewhat with the description of his physical appearance (I tend to ignore most of those and develop my own mental picture, which spawned the "describe the chair so-and-so is sitting on before you describe what they're saying" policy my writing has taken on over the past year, because I don't want other people getting wrong mental pictures!), I loved him dearly and when he discovered himself human, he drowned himself. I actually cried because I kept hoping someone would have jumped in to save him, or that it was some wicked trick Hugo was playing on his readers, but no! my dear Javert has perished and I am very morose about it. I only cried twice over the course of that beautiful book; when Javert died (more truthfully, when I realized he had actually died and was not miraculously coming to life once more) and when I reached the final page and the lingering sweetness was so perfectly displayed that emotion could not help but be stirred up.
Also, I am becoming fond of internet research. I mentioned before that I am not a very technical person, but I am capable of finding hot spots of information inside the mysterious haze of cyberspace. I was doing a bit of digging for the "True Grit" remake I had auditioned for back in December, and discovered that the girl they picked is one Hailee Stanfield, 13 years old, and they handpicked her from a drabble of over 15,000 girls who auditioned. I could not help but become dolorous; I wasn't expecting to get the part but then I didn't get it. Confused yet? Mind you, I was advised to go simply for the experience, which I did. It was fun, standing with steamy coffee on the side of beloved asphalt, having discussions with Dad and listening to the people behind us trying to do a crossword (and also trying to mentally figure the answer before they did). But the experience, enriching though it was, remained harrowing in my memory as unsettling and altogether too NEW. I shall be plagued with doubts no longer. Even though I was expecting nothing to come from it, there is always that nagging sliver of irrational hope that artists of my lot harbor for a rainy day. I'm just glad I found out. I figured they would have reached us by now if I had gotten the part. At least now I know, it wasn't meant to be.
It's snowing. Again. Did spring decide to curl up against the blistery winds and forget all about us? I had four cups of coffee today solely in hope of getting warm!
On a more uplifting note, I have found a lot of book suggestions from a list of classics in Les Mis. and "The Oxford Book of Villains", which had a beautiful excerpt from "Dracula" recently that won be over the fence of unsure hesitance towards affirmation in reading that particular piece. Also, Momsie and I had a rich discussion about music and worldviews and some of her college experience was mentioned, as well. That was fun. *grins*
I have discovered the zany addiction of Italian rap. When we used to participate in a homeschool co-op group a year or two ago, there was this kid who brought his MP3 to class one time and during break let some of us listen to enigmatically labeled Italian rap. I was fascinated by the mention but declined his offer of listening to it (wear those greasy germ-laden earbuds? No thanks, kid. Had it been someone else, I might have. That kid and I had...issues with each other. Both of us were knowitalls.) and have to this day wondered over whether it was worthy of tasting. (That was not either a typo.) I put my budding cyber-rummaging skills to a test and found some Italian rap artists and discovered Caparezza, and fell in love with several of his songs. Of course, I can't vouch for their morals because I have no idea what they're saying, so approach with caution. But in any case, they're lovely to type to albeit rather chaotic and might prove useful if I ever get back into writing something instead of blissfully ignoring my occupation as a writer.

Live from Junior the Notebook PC

So I mentioned in my most recent post that I had obtained "big news" but was saving it for the newly-flown weekend, whose time decided to cleverly evade me and leave me to post this anon. *smirks* But the big news still stands. Art though ready?
I am registered for the ACT. Officially. Uncompromisingly (unless I suddenly decide to die, which is not on my agenda for the date of April 10 or anytime before that, which will be spent studying like a maniac and stressing over my rather unstable nerves regarding this huge event). I recall being a little twerp and claiming I was going to do "so well" on the ACT, and Momsie called me downstairs the other day and informed me that I was being registered and she had some topical questions I had to answer for a personality-related survey. I don't think the reality hit until we printed out the registration page and I saw "The ACT" printed in courageous lettering on the top of the page. I am actually going through with this.
For the individuals who aren't familiar with the ACT or its regulations, I did a tiny bit of digging, as well as drawing memories from when my older sister went to take her ACT. Basically it's a test that you take if you plan to enter college. You can take either the ACT or the SAT (I think I'm taking both, but the ACT is first in my case, just to push me out into that whole experience). On the ACT, which is roughly three hours long, you are tested in the fields of mathematics, science, reading and the English language. About 50% of students who take the test score around a 20, out of a perfect 36. If you score high enough, as far as I can tell right now, you are considered eligible for tuition paid by a scholarship, and scholarships can cover anywhere from a fraction of college requirements (i.e., if you were living away from home, a scholarship might just cover what you pay to take classes or it may stretch into providing funds for textbooks) to covering everything (full scholarship). That's pretty much all I have comprehended sofar, all these specifics are changing by the year, so in other words don't quote me. *grins* But as unrehearsed as I am in the gritty details, this is still a very big step in my life because college has been a personal dream for as long as I can remember knowing what that mysterious word meant, and taking the ACT (better yet, acing it!) will be the first step in pursuing extended education. It's sort of like a diving board and I'm standing less than a month and a half away from toppling off the edge towards the cold water. Your prayers would be greatly appreciate closer to the time of the test in mid-April. I'm fairly confident, but then I've never taken it before. I have no idea what I'm up against and can't gather any more impressions until I actually see the questions and possible answers.
So yeah. Big news for the week. *wild grin*