A "Proper Post"... or so they say...

You thought you were going to read about politics, didn't you? Sorry to disappoint. But I really, really don't feel like commenting on 70 minutes of propaganda... er, I mean, the State of the Union address. I was actually going to do a post on socialism and ambition, but I got bored with it. Therefore, something "novel" is on the way.

And yes, that means novel in all senses of the word. I hope.

Recently I entered a novel-writing competition for homeschoolers. (I'll post an update on that when I have an update to post.) To those of you who know me: yes, I'm finally letting my work see the light of day beyond the Jabberings blog.

Anyhow, I thought I'd post a wee bit of one of the books I submitted. This is not a repeat of any Jabberings post... this is entirely new material, people. So enjoy... if you dare. =P


I posted it from MS Word in Courier... not sure how well that's going to work out... somebody tell me if it's goofy.

As far as the storyline goes, suffice it to say that an assassin (Luke) has just been caught by the U.S. government because he was trying to pick off a reporter. When he was being interrogated, he injected himself with a chemical that knocked him out for a few days and... you'll see. Marie is Luke's boss.

If you know anything about car chases, please tell me. I'm not really sure that I captured the feeling of the car chase in this scene very well.

Anyway, moving on...

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Luke woke up in the prison morgue the day after he had injected himself. There were bright lights shining on him and people were murmuring next to him. He realized that he was on the autopsy table. He opened his eyes quickly and sat up with a ramrod-stiff back for shock effect. The coroner, doctors, and nurses stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A nurse fainted, and one of the doctors handed him his clothes with shaking hands. Luke took them and got dressed quickly.

“Now if you wouldn’t mind opening the doors I’d be much obliged,” he continued. None of the doctors moved. Then the coroner shook his head.

“You’re still a prisoner,” he quavered.

“Not exactly. I was clinically dead, you know, so technically I’m no longer a prisoner,” Luke returned, and shouldered his way to the doors. The doctors half-heartedly tried to stop him, but it was no use. He got to the doors and found that they were locked. The doctors were buoyed by this and tried to stop him again, more vehemently, but he had the T-119 out in an instant and he burned out the lock on the doors with it. A doctor reached for the lock, but his hand was blistered by the residual acid and he jumped away, clutching his hand. Luke went through and, on a sardonic whim, waved goodbye to the autopsy room.

Upon exiting, he was confronted by a guard, whom he injected with E-37 and relieved of his weapons and uniform. Luke went out quickly, garbed in police officer gear, and got out of the gate to a well-armored police car that happened to be idling outside. He drove away in it, and none of the other officers seemed to notice.

He didn’t bother to look in the rearview mirror until he was well away from the prison. When he did, he noticed that he was not alone. Another prisoner was sitting in the back. He looked haggard, and there were circles under his eyes.

“What’re you in for?” Luke asked.

“Assault on a federal employee. I didn’t want the bugs in my house and told the installer so a little more forcibly than he liked, I guess. I didn’t hit him that hard—”

“I see. Where are you supposed to be going?”

The prisoner cocked his head and eyed Luke suspiciously

“You’re the escort. You’re supposed to know that, not me,” he frowned. Luke shrugged.

“Guess I don’t. By the way, I’m not exactly an escort. Think of me more as a… as a guardian angel. Maybe demon would be more accurate. I’m not going to take you to another prison. I just got out of that one. I’m not going anywhere near any others,” he said. The prisoner nodded pensively.

“So can you get me out of these handcuffs?” he asked abruptly.

“Sure.” Luke handed him the handcuff keys, and he proceeded to unlock the handcuffs. At that moment Luke happened to look in the rearview mirror again.

“Looks like we’ve got a little company,” he quipped. The prisoner twisted around in his seat, and his face fell.

“They want you to pull over,” he groaned. Luke glared at him in the rearview mirror.

“Do you mind telling me something I don’t know? Buckle up. I’m going to see just how well this thing can go. They picked a fight with the wrong person,” he growled. He contacted Marie through his implant then.

“Can you possibly remote pilot my helicopter to my location? I’m in a bit of a bind and I think it would come in handy,” he declared. Marie was silent for a moment.

“It’s on its way,” she replied at length, and hung up. The prisoner looked at Luke from the backseat.

“Are you crazy, mister? There’s no way anybody can pilot anything to you now. Airspace is completely restricted. No civilian aircraft,” he frowned.

“My stuff isn’t quite civilian,” Luke responded cryptically. “Hang on.”

He said it so conversationally that the prisoner didn’t catch on right away and got thrown against the back of the seat. He clung to the door for dear life. Luke sped around a corner, tires squealing. He had the gas pedal floored. The speedometer climbed higher and higher. On a straight stretch, it got up to 150 miles per hour. A fierce grin crossed Luke’s face. He was going fast and loving it.

“I should’ve been a racecar driver,” he muttered. The prisoner, on the other hand, was hugging the bars and the door alternately.

“Can’t you slow down?” he moaned.

“Not unless you want to get caught,” Luke retorted, and threw the car into a tight curve. He saw city traffic up ahead.

“Looks like we’re going a different route,” he remarked. The prisoner’s eyebrows arched, and he closed his eyes and clutched the door tighter. Luke drove up over the median into the oncoming traffic lanes.

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get us both killed?” the prisoner screeched. Luke turned on the siren and lights and wove back and forth between the honking cars.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.” The prisoner leaned back in his seat, white-faced.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, I do,” Luke chuckled, and drove the wrong way through a tollbooth. The toll collector yelled at him and shook her fist. Luke only grinned at her and kept going. The tollbooth strained out several of the pursuing cars, so only three were left in the chase.

Then four police motorcycles pulled out in front of Luke, who cursed at them and veered sharply to avoid them. They stayed in front of him, however, forcing him to slow down. He hissed with frustration and slammed his fist into the steering wheel, blasting the horn and startling the police officers. They swerved slightly, which gave Luke just enough time to gun the motor and ram into the back two. They went down on either side of the car, forcing the pursuit cars to slam on their brakes. The other two sped up, but then dropped back beside Luke’s car. They pulled out their guns. Luke ducked and yelled at the prisoner to do the same.

“Your helicopter is waiting at the end of 17th street,” Marie said over Luke’s implant.

“13th… 14th… 15th… 16th…” Luke counted under his breath.

“17th!” he shouted, and spun into the street. The prisoner started saying his rosary. Cars came left and right, honking at Luke and causing massive pileups. Luke raced to the end of the street and leaped out of the car. He had the presence of mind to open the prisoner’s door, and the prisoner jumped out and ran. The helicopter’s shields deactivated just long enough for Luke and the prisoner to get in. The prisoner gawked at it for a nanosecond, but Luke screamed at him to get in, which he did with no further discussion. Luke closed all the doors and started the rotors.

“Come on, come on, come on!” he grumbled. The rotors started turning, and the helicopter lifted off. A police car rocketed by just underneath it as it lifted off, and the car crashed into a building. Luke powered up all the helicopter’s shields so he could go undetected and flew away toward Sigma.

A few minutes into the flight, he got a direction from Marie to go to Camden.

“I think you might find something of interest at 1253 Ravenswood Lane. Be prepared to confront somebody you’ve been chasing. Call Edgar Lockhart at (609) 353-1228. He should be able to tell you what’s going on,” she said, and would say nothing more. Luke did as he was told, and arrived in Camden at precisely the right moment.


Weird, I know. But I would like to learn how to write a car chase. =D

Will post properly soon...

...but I'm a little busy right now, so anybody who ever reads this will have to wait a day or three before I post something new. Sorry to disappoint. =P

Equality, Part III

Now… how is banning certain people from receiving certain perks promoting equality? I fail to see why homeschoolers should be excluded from some scholarships. I also fail to see why we dither so much about “race.” So what if people are different colors? Their personal worth is exactly the same. And why do we call it race? There’s only one race: the human race, which we are all a part of. To make delineations between African-American and Caucasian, Native American and Mexican is artificial. We have been told for too long that our skin color matters, so we segregate ourselves without realizing it.

Unfortunately, the government certainly isn’t helping in this department. With all the affirmative action and the special privileges for minorities, the government has only succeeded in making those minorities dependent. It’s probably intentional, which makes it all the more despicable. In essence, the government is telling these people that they can’t make it on their own. According to the government, they need clubs and special rights and the like to be able to do things. What could possibly be more debasing?

I’m not trying to compare my civil privileges—or lack thereof—as a homeschooler with those of minorities; far from it. I know that my situation is far removed from theirs. However, the underlying problem is the same. We, as human beings, are sinful. Therefore, we don’t like people who aren’t like us. We like conformity. We don’t like to stick out from a crowd, and similarly, we don’t like others to stick out from a crowd. When somebody is a little brighter or prettier or faster than we are, we’re envious of them. When someone is a little dimmer or uglier or slower than we are, we look down on them. When someone is just plain different, we ostracize them because… well, they’re different. And being different like that just might be catching. For America's sake, I hope it is.

Equality, Part II

With freedom naturally comes equality. When I say equality, I’m not talking about everybody having the same everything. I’m talking about equality of personal worth. All human beings have equal worth in the eyes of their Maker. As a person, I am worth neither more nor less than the President of the United States. While he certainly is worth more in relation to position and responsibility, he is a person, just like me. Thus, his personal worth is no greater or less than mine.

However, most people get this sort of equality mixed up with another sort. To use Jacksonian terms, there is equality of opportunity, and there is equality of result. Too often people equate the two things, which are in fact far from the same. Equality of opportunity guarantees the same opportunities to everyone. It does not, however, guarantee that everyone will take advantage of those opportunities equally. Equality of result guarantees that everyone will get exactly the same thing out of their opportunities. Thus, it necessarily offers varying levels of opportunity to different people.

For example: a rich kid from Malibu will be able to make his way in the world easily enough; thus, he doesn’t need help. In fact, he needs to be repressed so he won’t upset the balance of “equality.” On the other hand, a poor kid from Watts won’t have an easy time of it. Thus, he needs a lot of help so he can rise to the level of the rich kid. Further, since the rich kid has so much extra cash, most of it should be taken away from him and given to the poor kid—once the government skims its bit off the top.

Obviously, it’s true that the kid from Malibu will have a much easier time than will the kid from Watts. But does that mean that the government should work to make life easier for the kid from Watts and harder for the kid from Malibu? No. That is the job of kind, caring individuals, not the government. Once the government starts forcing very different (diverse, if you like) people to have the same results, no matter what their opportunities, no one is equal anymore.

Equality, Part I (of 3)

Okay. I’m homeschooled (for a few more months, anyway). Thus, the following will be biased toward homeschoolers/homeschooling.

We talk about equality, right? Everybody wants equality, or so they say. More often than not, the equality people talk about is forced equality (i.e., socialism, forced busing, etc.), which is really not equality at all. Real equality gives equal opportunities to everyone… even the “alternative” people.

For the past hundred-odd years, homeschoolers have been looked upon as different. Admittedly, we are. We prefer not to be fed government propaganda by the public school system. We like to have the freedom to learn what we want to learn, not what some self-styled expert tells us we should. That’s not to say that we don’t do math and English and all that business. We do, usually. And we generally score higher on standardized tests, to boot.

So why are we largely looked upon as some blight? Why do the people in government ban us from certain scholarships and other opportunities? Are we not equal to publicly educated students? Are we somehow inferior? Less human? Less cultured? Less… what? What is the matter with us?

Perhaps the problem is that we are just a little too American. We are an independent breed, we homeschoolers, which was lately an American ideal. Somehow, between the New Deal and Change We Can Believe In, we lost sight of the reason America exists. While I have established that I don’t think the Revolutionary War was “morally right,” this doesn’t negate the fact that America was founded on a desire for freedom. Not conformity. Not bureaucracy. Not socialism. Freedom.

"Morality", Part II

So, to more or less pick up where I left off (though I won’t discuss secession in this post), the logical conclusion to my reasoning is that the Revolutionary War was “morally wrong.” I know a lot of people will look at that and say, “Hold it. Isn’t standing up for what you believe in right? Isn’t fighting for freedom right?” Well, yes. Knowing what we believe and defending it is most certainly right. Fighting for freedom is right also, provided we stay within the law.

Provided. What a terrible word. Because of it, entire empires have fallen.

Anyway, most Christians are familiar with Romans 13:1-2,* which says, “Every person is to be in subjection to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those which exist are established by God. Therefore whoever resists authority has opposed the ordinance of God; and they who have opposed will receive condemnation upon themselves.” To me, these verses clearly state that we, as Christians, are to defer to any and all authority, insofar as that authority isn’t telling us to disobey God. Thus, for the Americans to fight the British for independence isn’t biblically—or, by extension, morally—acceptable. The British weren’t telling the Americans to disobey God, so to fight the British for independence was unacceptable.

I’ve heard all kinds of counterarguments to Romans 13, ranging from the Machiavellian (“The Americans wouldn’t have gotten freedom without violence”—as if we’re entitled to freedom) to the non sequitur (“Since the rest of Romans 13 says that the authorities will reward good and punish evil, we’re only supposed to submit to authority if it does those things”—even though Romans 13 was written when Nero was the patently ungodly and unfair “governing authority” of Rome).

The non sequitur is almost plausible if we don’t consider any other verses that relate to authority. However, upon further searching, these verses come up. When taken together, they essentially tell us to obey authority without argument. For example: 1 Peter 2:13-17 – “Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and the praise of those who do right. For such is the will of God that by doing right you may silence the ignorance of foolish men. Act as free men, and do not use your freedom as a covering for evil, but use it as bondslaves of God. Honor all people, love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king.” Titus 3:1-2 – “Remind them to be subject to rulers, to authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good deed, to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men.” Mark 2:17 (and Luke 20:25 and Matthew 22:21) – “And Jesus said to them [the Jewish spiritual leaders], ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.’ And they were amazed at Him.”

… And so on and so forth.

If I continue in this vein, I’m apt to get preachy. Therefore, to spare my readers, I’ll assume that I’ve established that, according to the Bible, disobeying authority is wrong.

“Now wait a minute,” most people will cry. “What about Martin Luther King, Jr.? And what about Gandhi? Were they wrong to peacefully resist unfair measures?” The key word here is peacefully. In America—and in several other countries—It is legally acceptable to peacefully protest a law that appears unfair. In fact, this action seems to have become somewhat normal. Thus, to join a march or something comparable is not morally wrong (unless it becomes violent). We are remaining subject to the governing authorities while expressing our desire for change of some kind.

None of this is to say that I don’t believe that freedom shouldn’t be protected. We in the United States have a lot of legal freedom, which we should protect with legal measures. Are we really “endowed by our Creator with… liberty,” though? Biblically, no. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that we have a right to liberty. Thus, it’s biblically wrong to fight illegally for liberty, since liberty is a privilege, not a right, and since it’s wrong to disobey authority.

I’ve packed a lot into this post, and I’m sorry for its slightly horrendous length. I’ll split the next topic into smaller sections that will hopefully be easier to read. =P


*In all Bible quotations, I’ve used the New American Standard Bible.

What were we expecting...

...when we elected the current president? Really. Seriously. What were we expecting?

We were told we'd get change (which is an unfortunate choice of words, since it could be construed to refer to income tax refunds), and I think we've gotten it. The Senate has passed one of the most socialistic bills in American history. Several states are griping about it and waving secession around like a gun.

Is that gun loaded, though? Would any state have the audacity to actually secede? Further, would that be legal and/or moral? And are legal and moral (i.e., biblically acceptable) the same thing?

I've been plagued with these questions for some time now. Most every time I think about them, I end up tying myself in knots and staring blankly at my computer screen for several minutes. Primarily, the question of moral versus legal is the one that really twists my brain--and feelings--around. You see, if it isn't moral to secede, then it wasn't moral for the Founding Fathers to fight the Revolutionary War, and if that wasn't moral, then...

Because I'm a bit pressed for time, you'll have to wait for my next post to see the conclusion of that line of reasoning. How's that for a cliffhanger? =P