Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...



For those of us not at the Blue-Gold game a little over a week ago, here's a little bit of Lou that's still missed.

I, along with everyone else in America not named Cam Cameron or Ginn, is stymied as to why the Dophins passed on BQ at the ninth pick. Of course, the residents of south Florida are beyond stymied, but I wouldn't ask them about that just now. Anyway, I'm glad the Fish didn't do the logical thing. Why? 'Cause Brady's set up even better than anyone dared to imagine, even Phil Savage.



posted by Bolo | 1:09 PM
5 speakage

A Lot of Regret

This next statement will shock some and bring a vindictive thought to others, but I'll say it anyway: I do indeed regret not going to this year's Spring Banquet. Why? My buddy from Arizona, that's why.

A little under four years ago, he was a skinny kid with a funky walk and a disproportionate love for Star Wars. What's changed? Beyond those things, much. I remember my first impressions of him: definitely socially awkward, and definitely not someone I'd ever understand or get close to.

How can I say this? Hmmm. I was wrong, incredibly wrong. Does that work? I think so.

I still see in my mind the early stages of that blooming friendship. To be honest, he probably remembers it better than I. We'd talk about geeky, nerdy sorts of things, everything from Marvel comics to the Star Wars Expanded Universe. I think our conversations eventually went on toward more important matters, things such as fashion, the works of Tolkien, and God. Oh, and girls. Goshdarnit, lots of conversations about girls.

I remember getting phone calls from Arizona in the summers. He'd call, telling me how tough life was, telling me things I didn't really know how to handle. I think if he'd been there next to me instead of a couple thousand miles away, my shoulder would've had his head on it for a few hours. I'd listen, and point him again and again, in my own feeble way, toward Jesus.

I now smile at the ways he grew to be our younger brother, the younger brother he never could be at home. He'd hang out with me, Mike, Scott, Chriyus, and Jim, looking up to us like we were actually something special. Well, those guys were and are; I'm just happy to know them, too. We teased him, tortured him, and generally worked mightily for his sanctification, all the while never suspecting our little bro had so much potential.

I can recall the manners in which I've seen him change his thinking, growing in his affection for Christ. It's an amazing process to watch a young man grow in that manner, especially when you get to be a part of it. To my discredit, I think it's been too easy for me to take that growth for granted, or to lose my sense of awe at God's grace in his life. Silly me.

It's now four years later, and I wonder where the time has gone. He's still skinny, still walks funky, and still love Star Wars way too much. But you know what? There's a lot more to him than just that. My memory banks have stored within them recollections of late nights in his room, days of guts and glory on the frisbee field, ritualistic ping pong sessions in the rec center, short (yet pungent) trips to the bank, longer trips (like Nashville), and too many other moments to list. One thing that's missing? What his face looked like on Friday night. I really wish I'd been there for that.

I'm proud of you, Pablo :)

posted by Bolo | 2:17 AM
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Black & White, Dark & Light

posted by Bolo | 10:13 AM
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posted by Bolo | 2:29 AM
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Ok, so I was partially right. Brady went to the Browns, but at pick 22. What in the world!?!?!?!?

posted by Bolo | 4:20 PM
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How in the world Brady Quinn drops like this in the draft is beyond me.

posted by Bolo | 3:25 PM
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I wish I had a dime for every time I saw someone list Jim Elliot's quote on Facebook; yes, you know which quote I'm talking about, since it's the only one he ever really gets quoted for en masse on Facebook. I'm wondering how much time Rev will be spending in Heine over the coming weeks and months. Yesterday, I had a very interesting question posed to me: Do I ever see the world outside of a camera lens? I had an interesting answer, one that may get expounded upon later. At about 7:05 PM, I began to wonder if I ever again was going to see my cuff links, suit, shoes, and who knows what else was leant out tonight. Oh well. Tony, those sandwiches...dude...they had enough beef in 'em to make me moo. So, Blue-Gold game gone and done with, the next mystery that Subway Domers and real Domers alike want solved is where Brady Quinn will go in the draft. I think end up staying close to home and be a Cleveland Brown, but that's just my guess, and my guess means nothing. The whole Balloon Glow thing? Well, like Moon Pie said...not for a bunch of guys. Unless, of course, we're gonna go with Rev all properly sized up...

posted by Bolo | 2:30 AM
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posted by Bolo | 3:40 AM
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Oh my goodness. Jessica Cimato, Sara Sawyer, and Emily Dick have kidnapped me. Help. Back later. Maybe. The body they can kill...

posted by Bolo | 10:47 PM
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Last night at about this time, I had a revelation. It had to do with my prior posts on which four members at IBC would best fit the four main cast members on Seinfeld. In this post, I revealed Andy McClurg to be our Cosmo Kramer. In this post, I declared Richard Doublevee Hardison to be the man we'd cast as George Costanza. At that point, though I'd not revealed it, I believe a general consensus was reached that we'd cast Debbie Maclean in the role of Elaine Benes.

That brings me to my revelation. Last night, as I sat with two Cavanaughs and two O'Neals, I realized that Jerry Seinfeld, the last and most elusive Seinfeld cast member to cast, would be fulfilled by our very own Ryan Szrama.

Yup. I know. Pure genius.

posted by Bolo | 10:32 PM
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Boyce College Promo

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the new and improved Boyce College Promo Video.

posted by Bolo | 8:47 AM
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Seeing More Than Just Stuff

I thought about it last night as I walked along the J-Bowl. I asked God, "Do I really want to see You? Or am I blind, or maybe just stupid, 'cause I know I can see, but it's like I'm the guy who's standing in front of the ocean while the sun sets for the night...but I'm closing my eyes to it all." What I was thinking about was seeing and savoring Jesus. It's a phrase that can get tossed around here fairly easily, with not nearly as much real consideration as it deserves.

As I talked to God about it, I was reminded of a particular Piper sermon, part of which I'd listened to recently. In it, he prays. The whole way through. Let me rephrase it, 'cause it may not make sense: John Piper prayed a sermon. What I remember about it is that he told his congregation was that since Christ was in them (united with Him), he was going to pray and, as he looked at them, look at Christ.

I'll be honest, I thought it was a little weird. But last night, as I walked, I realized why it seemed so weird: I don't seek to see and savor Christ in the people of Christ. I often dismiss others as not being worthy of my attention, or of not being able to offer me anything.

I think you can see where I'm going with this.

Isn't Christ worthy of my attention? Isn't He sufficient for me, my all in all? Yes, He is. Seeing Christ in the people of Christ is a hard work, and one that I'll be failing at for the rest of my life. Still, I am to try by His grace to keep seeing and savoring Him, and especially so in the lives of His people.

Hypothetically speaking, say I were to find out right now, as I sit here in my room, exhausted after over two hours of fairly intense volleyball, that someone I would really love to see but haven't seen for a long time was across the campus in the Legacy Center. Maybe it could be Boss, Kason, Dad, Kev, Leo, 'Drew, Kavin, or Mom. Take your pick. Doesn't matter, 'cause whoever it was, I'd be out the door and running, leaving this post to be finished sometime tomorrow.

Would I run to Christ in such a manner? Of course I would.

Or would I?

He's not kidding when He says that He will be with me, with us, and that He is glorified in the lives of His people. Do I desire to see that glory?

posted by Bolo | 11:35 PM
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Out & About

posted by Bolo | 1:46 PM
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I've got Zayne's birthday invitation propped up on my keyboard. Maybe I should get Makana's out, too, so Mon doesn't get motherly jealousy. Didn't pay a penny for the food I acquired today. Nick Crouse is the only person on the planet who knows what it is to express information. Honey Nut Cheerios at 2:30 in the morning? Heck yeah. Also free, by the way. When the Admissions Office gives you a list of high school students to call concerning Boyce College, you'd better hope that if it's a young lady you're calling that whoever answers the phone has already heard of Boyce College, 'cause if not, you're going to sound really really really awkward trying to explain precisely why you're some dude with a deep and distinctly masculine voice from Boys College calling a teenage girl he doesn't even know or want to know or even wishes to speak to any more. Yeah. Just as everyone was walking in to Dorm Meeting tonight, I turned to Scott and said of a certain young man, "He opens his mouth so much that every so often, he says something really profound." Detroit next weekend?

posted by Bolo | 2:30 AM
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Thanks, Pablo, for humbly reminding this stubborn sinner why and how he's saved by grace.

posted by Bolo | 11:06 PM
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One of the best compliments a FPS player can ever receive is being accused of using a bot and cheating. That is, of course, if he's not actually cheating, since any and all cheating is lame. Or is it?

I remember meeting Lou way back when I still had hair. I would've loved to watch him pacing the sidelines one more time, picking grass like he always used to.

Oh really? Hmmm...

Nerdy narcissism on the 'net.

posted by Bolo | 5:28 PM
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Pablo was the last one out of me, Corey, and Amy to make it out of port-a-potty purgatory. The three of us stood there for a while, eagerly and anxiously awaiting his acquittal from his purgatory of purged poop (which, strangely enough, seemed to be both longed-for and loathed very strongly by many yesterday), wondering aloud if he might have fallen in or passed out.

posted by Bolo | 9:00 PM
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What do you get when you put together roughly 800,000 humans, an air show, and the largest fireworks show in North America? Well, other than the highest concentration of mullets this side of NASCAR, you get an opportunity for dummies like me to make comments like, "Dude, I bet my port-a-potty line goes down faster than your port-a-potty line."

Hmmm...what's that in Pablo's faux CamelBak?

I don't know, but whatever it is, it's got a buddy now.

Oh, and another buddy!

Amy just found out that Boyce College doesn't really give out Mrs. Degrees.

Corey's face was stuck like this after she came out of the port-a-potty.

Trust me, we don't know, either.

Hey, look! It's me and my twelve apostles. Hehe, get it? Ok. Bad joke. Oh, and not to worry, not a surfer from North Dakota among 'em.

posted by Bolo | 1:34 AM
5 speakage
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