The New Year

Well. If anything, I resolve not to be casual in the things I do or pursue. We're talking like, being intense here. I'm done mucking about.

'Cher

Whoa. Was it really eight years ago that I sat for the selection tests that I'm NOW INVIGILATING? That's. Mad.

And. In case you didn't know. Only in a certain family of schools are teachers referred to as 'sir' and 'madam'. Not, as you may address them, as 'teacher' or simply 'cher'. Or Mr/Ms/Mdm . Therefore, being in this certain family of schools and a student myself, being referred to as 'teacher' and being alerted (or rather being asked for permission) everytime a kid needed to "go toilet" or "drink water" was a new experience. Whether I could get used to it or not is another matter entirely. Although the feeling of having young impressionable minds within one's influence is rather unnerving, being oppressively full of responsibility, I suppose God has a way of preparing one for certain specific near-future situations one is likely to find oneself in.

One thing is certain. I. Need. (non-baggy, non-loose (read: fitting, not stiflingly tight), flat fronted, dark coloured) Pants.

Gripping Stuff

This is, well, Gripping Stuff. Some may find it Faintly Amusing. Or even Extremely Disturbing. It is, however, Certainly Dangerous. Consider yourself Duly Warned.

Think very hard BEFORE clicking that link.

How strong is your faith? No. Really.

Oh for harsh Light to pierce the haze of complacency

The Lights at Nero's Party - After the Sirens

How vaguely we eschew complicity with You,
It's always run-arounds, excuses
And words we bind to nooses
Just to sullenly let swing
The best of arbitrary things,
Like, do we care about the poor?
Oh yes, but we support the king.
And we're starving for the slaughter.
A man gives up his daughter
And the walls that keep us safe aren't saving anyone.
Didn't You sayto risk everything?
And we're left dieting for more
And then we're burning on the tor
That flanks an emperor's affair.
We've hardly sacrificed before
So in manic heavenward stare
Let the confession from our lungs
That as our bodies torch the air
To the fanfare and the drums,
Amid drunken wild acclaim,
We have the urge to scream Your name
Without hesitance or shame
Affirm our place among the burning.
And our bodies break, confirming
Our inability to remain
Without an object for our yearning.
Our inability, our inability.
"Oh God, accept our spirits into Your holy presence"

"Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired." - Tacitus, The Annals XV, 44

Mediocrity - It takes a lot less time and most people won't notice until it's too late.

Well. In a strange twisted way.

Hug the kid.

Send him out into The System.

Something is going to break.