musings on the nature of authority.

Today I read a literary theory that claimed the author is dead. According to this theory, as soon as a writer puts his ideas into the neutral medium of language, he has no control over how the reader will interpret the words on the page.

As an English major, you could say I am being taught to be an informed or academic reader of various texts. But as a self-proclaimed poet (under the title "Colin and Co.") I am also a writer. I'd like to use author, but I haven't been recognized by others under that title yet.

I would like to think that I have some control over the text that I produce. Excuse my use of an agricultural analogy, but If the writer plants beans, he would be suprised if the crops yield corn.

My grandma reads some of my poems. She came to me once, and she proudly told me what she thought one of my poems 'meant'. After presenting her hypothesis, she looked at me for conformation of her interpretation. I verbally verified that her conclusion was correct, but I thought to myself at the same time, 'what did I mean with that poem?'

Maybe this is why I don't deem myself worthy of the title of 'author'. I don't write with authority to clearly communicate meaning. Maybe I don't want to communicate meaning.

The Bible says Jesus spoke with authority, and the crowds were amazed at this.

This entire blog entry is disorganized. But I warned you that this was a 'musing'.

Wallpaper and Myself.

Rabbits on the wall, still pictures in repetition

Some are standing, some are sitting

One lay down, seemingly contemplating

I liked that one most.

Rabbits on the wall, all by themselves

Alone in animation, with their props

One held a balloon, red as anger

I liked the colour red.

Rabbits on the wall, in static motion

Never changing clothes, equally spaced

One wore polka dots, stuck on forever

I liked consistency.

Rabbits on the wall, never smiling

Despite their toys, devoid of joy

One seemed sad, like the rest

I empathized with them.

and #4...

Jesus hung out with sinners and never sinned. He took alot of heck from the leaders, officials, and generally 'good' and 'righteous' people in society for this. He met people at their own level, exposing their faults through truth and love, not through spiteful pride. He made them realize that they were living a life apart from God, against His way, a life for their own gratification. He exposed the sinners crutch, vice, and master. He offered them a way out of their enslavement and into a relationship that lasts. He pierced many a soul. Many had to humbly bow their heads and repent of their ways. For some, this was too hard; they would not give up their sin. For others, it was the best day of their lives and the start of a new one. Either way, Jesus never joined them in their sin: He joined them for diner. He never hungered for the prostitute: He hungered for their souls. He never basked in worldly wealth: He basked in God's glory. 

I think this is pretty amazing. 

So bad at keeping this consistent.

Well it's number 3. Finally. A charm!

So today I would like to talk about what's on my mind. 

Which is alot. 

Sometimes I feel like I float through time. 

Like finding ten pennies and making a dime.

The cycle of days is wearing me down.

Freedom hides in this rather large town.

People work hard for their personal wealth.

Building up walls to protect a selfish health.

Taking advantage and giving to charity.

Loving your neighbour has become a rarity.

I seem trapped in this sinful revolving door.

It takes my all to keep from sinking to the floor. 

War is waged inside my soul. 

Spirits battle for full control.

I know the Life and Truth and Way.

And yet this selfish sin continues to stay.

The outcome of this conflict is already known.

Jesus fought it without breaking a bone.

My salvation is finished; I am redeemed.

So as time continues to float along. 

I try to remember my favourite song.

Raising my head, I pass by a dime.

I have my eyes fixed this time, 

On something much larger than me.

my second blog.

So this is #2. 

Here's a poem. i'm writing it on the fly with no editing. 

Deserted and Alone.

A dog without a bone.

Not a friend in sight. 

Tackling this plight.

I can't let him go.

He loved me so.

But not anymore.

Now he's a chore.

Stuck in this mess.

Submerged in stress.

When will it end?

I need a Godsend.

He's always there.

Surrounding like air.

Right by your side.

You cannot hide.

Soon you will see.

His love and mercy.

Just hold tight,

the end is in sight.

This poem is dedicated to my friend Kelly. She is awesome. And God loves her.

My first blog!

So this is it! My blogging beginning! 

I don't have a distinct plan for this blog. Here is a list of possible items that may land in the blog:

- random thoughts

- inspiring poems 

- quotes and my opinions/questions

- comparisons and critiques of things that interest me

- miniature autobigraphy scattered throughout

- song lyrics

- observations

- annoying rants

- Bible verses

- ET CETERA

So, now that we're all ready for this, I shall begin with a random thought of the day:

Why are showers so dominant over baths? As a child, I bathed until the age of 12. Then I remember friends telling me that they showered. So I tried it. And since then I have probably had about 10 baths. Today I took a bath. It was much more relaxing. It took no more time than my showers normally do. It probably used close to the same amout of water as a shower. (to test this, I may put the plug in tomorrow morning for my shower). And I think I felt more clean, and my theory is that being completely submerged in water, even for a short time, allows your body to cleanse much better than having a 4 inch wide circle that only wets the area it is aimed. 

I say we bring back the bath! 

Peace out.