Dog Days of... whatever the hell this season is.

I think they've beat a hasty retreat. Since I laid down the traps earlier this week, I've only caught a cricket. And that doesn't merit a picture, so don't ask. Poor little guy.

But, quite fortunately, the Spider Traps haven't had any Hobo Spiders in them. This means, pretty much, that I'm good to go.

I'm going to leave them out while I'm gone over the next week or two just to catch any sneaky spidery invaders, but so far, so good!

In the meantime, Bugsy and Bobo's wedding is coming up, so I'll be out of town for a while. Again. This Summer has been loaded with travels, and honestly I'm pretty darn happy that we're going to just be staying in town for the remainder of it once we're back. I'm sick of traveling - for now - and just want some freakin' peace and quiet.

I picked up and started reading the first volume of Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, and so far it is very, very good. I'm looking forward to digging in to his novel American Gods while I'm on the plane ride over. I also picked up the new Venture Bros. DVD. If you've never seen the show, it's worth a rent. Packed with satirical goodness, I say! Oh, it's a cartoon, just FYI, of the Adult Swim category. And it's quite good.

Other than stuffing my bulging mental midsection with more entertainment, I've been working on scarfing down an article or two here and there and generally trying to find ways to keep myself busy. Not that I don't have a lot to do, of course. It's just that I'd rather do... well... nothing.

Let's face it - I'm tired. I've been running around all summer, I haven't had a real chance to sit down and get some work done, and it's starting to bug me. A lot. I think I've contracted that whole Grad Student mentality of feeling guilty when I'm not in the office working.

Oh, well. I'll be on a plane Friday. Then in Cape Cod on Saturday. I'll post updates as I feel the need to. In the meantime, I'm going to turn on a fan, go to bed, and pray that I get some mental clarity back.

Oh, and if you were hoping for a funnier update, please follow these directions:

1. Close your eyes.

2. No, seriously, close your eyes.

3. Disregard steps 1 and 2 because you can't read the rest of the directions if your eyes are closed. Just pretend they're closed. That will work just as well.

4. Picture a Badger standing in the middle of a circus.

5. Now picture a circus clown lighting the badger on fire and putting it down another clown's pants.

6. Next, picture the victim clown running around in agony as the burning badger wreaks havok on his man-parts, leaving him a hollow, dried out husk of a man. Also picture the other clowns pointing and laughing at him as this happens.

7. Finally, picture the victim clown leave the circus, joining the military, working with special forces crews, learning to kill with his bare hands, subsequently leaving the military, and then hunting down each and every clown from that blasted circus and exacting bloody revenge on each of them for their stupid little badger prank. You can imagine him also killing their families and friends if you're in to that Sopranos sort of thing, but it's entirely optional. I was going for more of a Commando-style clown massacre thing, you know, where Ah-nold puts the steam pipe through that guy and it whistles through his chest with steam coming out the other end and Ah-nold says he needs to "blow off some steam," except that with these clowns it would probably have to be done in honking noises seeing as clowns don't really talk to each-other. The whole thing could be subtitled as well, so you'd know what was going on when they honked. That way, you can understand clearly why Binky had to die, and why he won't get any mercy from our very, very, very pissed off clown anti-hero. If you're not really in to a completely morbid revenge thing, you can make it ironic where the victim clown traps the guy who did it in a room and then fills it full of burning badgers. Or, you could add a romantic end to it where the victim clown gets the girl clown at the end. Or, if you liked Tokyo Drifter, he could seem like he's getting the girl at the end, but then honks astutely, "A Drifter needs no woman." Or, if you're a realist, he could realize that he's a freakin' clown and run back to her because he'd better take anything he can freaking get or else he'll just be lonely for the rest of his life because, I mean, come ON! He's a flipping clown!

8. Then imagine the earth getting blown up by a super-intelligent race of pink flamingos.

After following those directions closely, you should be able to adequately satisfy your appetite for the random and zany that so many of you have come to expect from my posts (and if you haven't by now, then you have either just started reading or you need a little education in the way of recognizing goofiness... or you sprained your sense of humor, in which case I can't help you because that's your own darn fault and there isn't much I can do for that, but I'd be happy to bill you either way).

Raoul vs. The Spiders - Round 3

Ok, Eddy came through with the spider strips and I've laid them down in open places in my appartment - one behind the couch, and one in my bedroom near the heater. We'll give 'em a few days and see what they catch.

In the meantime, a new problem has developed. I think they're on to me... and they made a move to take control of my keyboard this afternoon.

I don't know how much longer I can hold out... I just hope that the strips do their job, and get a a body count started in the next few days. It's war, I tell you! WAR!

Gaaahhh! It just scuttled under my bed! Ugh... looks like another night of sleeping in my computer chair, trembling for fear of my life.

Wigging out about freaking spiders

Ok, so I'm kind of wigging out a bit about spiders. I just saw one crawl up my diploma and spin a web to the floor. It was kind of cool to watch. I shall name him Spinny McSpinnigan. And I shall not kill him.

Here's why.

When dealing with Hobo Spiders, it's best to just let other spiders live. They create competition for the Hobo Spider, and keep their numbers low.

So, Spinny and his other spidery friends (which have freaking overrun the corners of my appartment) shall be allowed to live. I am SO vaccuming the hell out of the corners tomorrow though, so their webs are forefeit.

Now, let me explain a bit about this current wiggfest I am actually kind of enjoying right now. It's that time of the year where spiders multiply like rabbits on the Palouse. Particularly the nasty Hobo Spider. Everybody knows about it (save for me, the dude who just moved to the PNW a year ago... MG and Dr. Cox, you paying attention?), and just goes out to buy these neat little strips that attract the agressive, poisonous little freaks and kills them. Sort of like flypaper. But yeah, apparently, they're quite the pest out here.

So, Eddy called me today and found some Hobo Spider strips he's gonna lay down at his place. I'm taking some of them from his stash, too. Yes, we're splitting a box of anti-spider strips. Yes, I know that I'm overreacting. Yes, I know it's funny. Why the hell do you think I'm blogging about it?!? Because I have a sense of humor about myself, that's why! And since Knarf isn't here to give me crap about my overreacting, then I'll just have to do it myself! ;)

But seriously, you guys didn't SEE that thing when it scurried in the door last night! I mean, I have NEVER seen a spider behave like that before! (No, it REALLY DID FAKE LEFT, THEN RUN RIGHT. I AM NOT KIDDING.) It stood on the TIPS of its eight legs. The TIPS! On its tip-toes! What the hell kind of spider does that? Then it dropped to its belly and spread out its front four legs like a dog does when it's playing with you. Then I smashed the hell out of it with my sandal.

Freaking. Creepy. Hobo. Spiders. Ever google them? Do it! Behold the horror that now grips my soul! Here, just look at this creepy picture that I drew of the whole experience! Ugh... they just give me the willies!

Still, it could be worse. My appartment could be infested with these things.

Oh, wait. That image is from my fridge. Nevermind. I'm doomed.

I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos of giant spiders originally taken by Prof. Hemispheres from the Spawn Message boards. I just used 'em here because they're freakin' creepy.

Squinting through a glass darkly to see the alarm clock in my shower

It's another late night, and I'm having trouble getting to bed. It was a late morning earlier today, as I managed to drag my butt out of bed around noon. Seeing as the robotic alarm clock that runs away from you when you hit the snooze alarm isn't coming out for a while longer, I decided to try a drastic measure: I have moved my alarm clock in to my shower.

No, seriously.

It's sitting in my shower right now. When the alarm goes off in the morning, I will stagger in there to shut it off. Hopefully, I will be awake enough to shut the blasted thing off and get in the shower and start to wake up. If not, then one of two things will happen:

1. I will just stagger back to bed
2. I will turn the shower on without moving the alarm clock

Neither would be a good thing, but at least the second option would zap me enough to be awake.

Aside from that, I spent the night hanging out with my friend Eddy, who showed me the mockumentary I helped him create. As he was preparing to leave, a Hobo Spider scuttled in through the door and Eddy nearly jumped out of his shoes. After killing the aggressive little critter - I swear, the freaking thing tried to fake right and dodge left - he informed me that the blasted things had a bite that resulted in skin deterioration. Oh, and they were super-aggressive due to their ultra-poor eyesight. Oh, and they're super-fast on carpet. And I have their webs behind my couch and in a few corners in my house that I didn't even notice until Eddy pointed them out to me.

So, we spent the next few minutes chatting about specialized spider strips used to kill these little suckers while glancing around my apartment nervously.

That was fun. Now I'm scared to go to bed.

Freaking spiders. I'm going to get some of those strips tomorrow. See how they like that. Hobo Spiders. Geez. Creepy.

I've been listening to a lot of hard rock lately. A lot more than normal... and a lot harder than usual. I don't really know what it is. I've only listened to a handful of CD's that haven't had mostly screaming/cookie monster/death metal vocals in the past few months. I haven't exactly missed the lighter music, either. I just want something that hard right now.

It could be that I just need a sort of release from all the changes that have been happening. My sister is getting married. Two of my best friends just moved out to Seattle. We're getting ready to join a new Church. My studies are shifting more towards the self-driven research phase and more away from basic classroom work.

Or perhaps it's a culmination of all of the changes that have happened over the past year? The move, Grad school, JJ's new job, my family being so far away, making so many new friends, learning a lot about myself, and all that kind of stuff.

Or perhaps its just because that's really the type of music I enjoy the most, and I'm finding a lot of great heavy bands that I like to listen to?

I don't know. I really hate trying to peg a reason on the things that I do sometimes. Most of the time, I just want to... be.

I can already hear the Squirrel perk up her ears as she reads this in Juarez and compare my comments to Buddhism in one way or another. But the transcendence of Labels is an idea, I believe, that far predates any shred of Buddhist thought. Sometimes, things just are the way they are. No analysis of their qualities can yield any deeper insight in to their presence (or absence, in some cases) in the world around us.

In my case, I try to avoid labels simply because it means I have to spend time thinking about myself. And I hate doing that. I really, really resent it when I catch myself swimming in thoughts completely centered around me. Hell, I'm doing it right now. Why is it so much trouble to dissolve yourself from your own perception of the world so that you may simply be allowed to perceive a thing without the taint of yourself forever warping the perception? Damn this sin-soaked mind and its inadequate information-gathering organs! My desire is to genuinely see the truth, and not simply to perceive a representation of an aspect of it. I want to know in full, even as I am fully known, but until then I have to be content to see through a glass darkly.

I am continually aggravated when truth is occluded. I desperately want it to be made clear that I may know it.

And, of course, this occlusion is due to more than the limitations of our sensory organs or our brain's ability to translate the signals it receives from them. It has to do with our own desire to see and know the truth. It is not a perfect desire that we hold. It, too, like our senses, is bent by sin. In fact, many of us outright flee from the truth as if it were an enemy come to slay us. Perhaps it is. Perhaps what I have is a death wish. Perhaps I want to be run through.

Oh, bother. I've gone off and become all abstract again, haven't I? No matter. If these words make no sense, don't worry too much about it. If they do make sense, then be troubled, as I am troubled, and continue to squint your eyes to try to see through the glass more clearly.

Until we can see more clearly, I will go to bed hoping that I remember to shut off my alarm clock before I turn the water on in the shower and have nightmares about Hobo spiders sneaking in to my bed at night and biting me.

Back from Bellevue

The GF and I have returned from our trip out to see Mothergoat and Dr. Cox (Matt and Emily, respectively). Most of their furniture is now moved in - a major accomplishment - and they now have plenty of time to get things done before starting their jobs.

It was great to see each other and hang out again, much like old times, except with much prettier surroundings. :)

Oh, and we did manage to find a wing place just across the street from their apartment. The wings are a different style (the spices are baked in to the skin instead of in sauce form), but they're still awesomely good-eriffic.

It was sad to go, but the major upside is that this was just the beginning of many trips to come. Having good friends in the same state again = Teh Aw3s0m3n3ss. (Thanks again for your hospitality MG and Dr. Cox!)

This week, I have a meeting with the illustrious, fantabulous Lisa (my advisor and visual attention guru) to discuss some articles, I have to get my suit tailored, and I need to learn how to breathe fire and walk on walls. All before flying out to Cape Cod to see my sister get hitched. Awesome.

Chillin' in Bellevue

Well, I'm here. Bellevue, that it. A suburb of Seattle. Hangin' out with Mothergoat and Emily.

And man, this town is nice. And full of trees. Lots and lots of trees.

We drove out to Kirkland to see Cranky Pants Games (MG's new workplace) and to walk by Bungie studios, then hung out on the shores of the lake. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

We're picking up the GF at the airport at 7:00, then going to McCormick and Schmidt's (did I spell that right?) for dinner.

Then, tomorrow, we help them move in. Apparently, the moving company has decided to deliver their stuff TOMORROW. Awesome. Looks like JJ and I get to help them move in anyway!

Anyhoo, I'm gonna go chill. Just wanted to give everyone an update and let you know that I'm going to be out of town for the weekend.

Oh, yeah... for anyone I didn't tell, I'm going to be out of town in the weekend. ;)

More later.

Of Ghosts and Grace

Something just crossed the road up ahead. I guess it was just a trick of the light. I can never really tell if the blurs in my eyes from passing cars who forget to turn off their high beams are animals or not.

It is a bright night tonight. The hills of the Palouse are lit by the semi-full moon, meaning that the drive will be fairly easy tonight. The hills are black against a deep navy sky, and the moon is so bright that rays of gentle white reach out from it.

Zao's parade of chaos album peacefully howls through the stereo speakers. A perfect night for horrors to race through your head in the dark.

Ghosts begin to touch my mind. Old friends. Old enemies. Old actions. Old mistakes. Old sins. Blood shed. Pain felt. Loved ones lost.

I blink hard. I swore I just saw something cross the road. No, it wasn't a trick of the light. It was black. Blacker than it should have been.

I muttered to myself and rubbed my eyes. It's been a long week, full of visits and visitors. Tuesday was my first day back in the office. So much work to do, so many theories to digest. But mathematics and brain regions don't keep my mind off of the lit darkness, the soft moonlight, or Dan Weyandt's sublime screams.

The mind drifts in to dark places on the open road at night, particularly when listening to music that gives an honest examination of human nature. But I am not troubled by ghosts of the past or phantoms of future events. Old ghosts are sometimes welcome guests late at night, and I doubt that phantoms, creatures wrapped in the past by definition, have any business coming to me from the future. Besides, I don't think those are the sort of ghosts I'm being visited by now on this open road.

Track 10 of the Zao album cues up, a song titled how are the weak free, that I have come to embrace as a sort of anthem to human nature.

Free the wolf
From his cage
Watch him hunt
Stalk his prey

We must
Bring him down

The grinding guitars and snarled vocals in the half-light help me see the faces of my ghosts. What haunts me on the road tonight are my own dispositions towards evil.

What kind of Christian am I, when monsters fascinate me more than saints? What sort of man could I be when I find more in common with villains than with heroes in the stories I read? How can I completely understand Ash when he says of the amoral Xenomorph, "I admire its purity," and call myself a moral man? What am I to do when the wolf within rattles the cages and gnaws at the bars and it is all I can do to keep from lifting the latch and setting him free?

The road turns, my hands turn, the wheel turns, the car turns, and my mind turns.

I pictured myself as a ghost, a drifting and lifeless vapor in the eyes and nightmares of men. To be incorporeal, to float on the wind, to pass through walls and bodies, to find dark pleasure in terrifying those who are unfortunate enough to see me. I lick my teeth, wishing my tongue would find fangs instead of molars. I stretch my hands to find no claws. No fire passes from my nostrils. All much to my disappointment.

No, I remain irrevocably human and undeniably alive.

I blink hard.

The track ends.

I hit repeat.

I'm not done with this thought yet.

J.M. Boice once said that with true spiritual maturity comes a growing awareness of our own sinfulness. At times, if this is true, I think I am maturing rapidly. I see so much darkness in my own heart and in the hearts of others around me. How can there be any good in man? If I am any sample, any representation, any indication of what we are, why are we all not damned?

Especially when I love the wolf within so very, very much.

In these dark moments, where I am face to face with the beast I am, my mind's path takes a sudden turn and leads me to an unexpected place of hope. I sometimes do not understand why the clear image of my own black heart brings me such comfort. But it does.

I suppose that in some way, being honest about it helps me better understand the nature of Grace.

I don't deserve what Jesus did for me.

That single thought brings me vast joy.

I am not the perfect Christian. I am not the perfect human. I am not the perfect son, brother, friend, or boyfriend.

I am a monster, deeply flawed and deliberately wicked.

And I am loved. Especially by the One who rightfully ought not to at all.

The road passes between two hills as it bends towards the moon. The soft light cuts through the pressing legion of black ghosts. The track ends, and I find myself in Pullman and at peace.

Busy busy busy

Jumping Jayhawk's parents are in town, along with her sister, her sister's boyfriend, and her brother. So, I've been ultra-busy and quite out of touch with reality for a while.

I cannot wait to just have a quiet moment at home so I can get back to work, listen to some death metal, play Half-Life 2: Episode One, clean my appartment, and catch up on everyone's blogs.

We went camping in Oregon at the Wallawa Lake Campground. It. Was. So. Awesome. JJ will have pics up on her facebook account soon (and please comment, to those of you who keep pestering her for pictures and then don't comment when she posts them!).


We hiked up to another waterfall, got pictures taken near them, went horseback riding, learned about the Nez Perce Indian tribe, and spent time near a beautiful lake.

Freakin' awesome.

In the meantime, my collection of H.P. Lovecraft horror stories have been taunting me, demanding my attention. Thoughts are rumbling in my head regarding a comparison of Cthulhu to Jesus. A good comparison. As in, how the two are similar. As in, how cosmic horror can teach us about God. More on that later.