Be Just or Be Dead

Current System Configuration: Painfully just
Earworms:
Salva Nos by Yuki Kajiura (from the anime Noir)
Sustenance:
[Breakfast] French toast and blueberry jam
[Lunch] Shawarma without the onions
[Dinner] 3x Julie's cheesedesal with cheddar cheese inside.
[Coffee] Homebrew coffee and a venti mocha frappuccino with valencia syrup. Double blended, as usual.
Current Read:
-Still not reading

Remember that little quote I used to add at the end of every entry? "Be Just or Be Dead"? I took it from Ky Kiske's theme in Guilty Gear, entitled "Holy Orders ~Be Just or Be Dead~." I thought it was so easy to do, but now I'm sure it's not.

I had to dispense painful justice on someone who I did not want to dispense it on. This person may deserve it, but when you genuinely care for a person and wish that person to continue to grow and be encouraged by your tutelage, it is very, very, very painful to give that person deserved justice.

I guess this is a taste of how God feels when He disciplines us for our foolishness. Nevertheless, I can never imagine the pain the Father felt when He sent Jesus to die on the cross. Punishing a person who deserves it is painful enough---how much more punishing someone who is completely innocent?

It's been said that mercy is not getting what one deserves, grace is getting what one does not deserve, and justice is getting what one exactly deserves. It's difficult to show mercy, but do people ever think about how hard it is to dispense justice on someone who is not at all hateful or depraved, yet completely deserves it? It rips my heart like a scourge. I wish I could take the blame upon myself, but alas, I cannot.

Tasting the bitterness of being just,

Your Black Lion

Dominus Deus,
exaudi nos et miserere
exaudi, Dominus

Dona nobis pacem
et salva nos a hostibulus
Salva nos, Deus

Dominus exaudi nos
Dominus miserere
Dona nobis pacem

dona nobis pacem
e dona eis requiem
inter ovas locum
voca me cum benedictis
pie Jesu domine, dona eis requiem
dominus deus, Sanctus, Gloria
Sanctus, Gloria

-Salva Nos, Yuki Kajiura

Anachronism

Current System Configuration: In, but not of this world
Earworms:
Canta per Me by Yuki Kajiura (from the anime Noir)
Sustenance:
[Breakfast] Chicken nuggets, kesong puti and garlic rice
[Lunch] Footlong hotdog with coleslaw
[Dinner] Tokyo Tokyo's Beef Misono Big Plate. Veggies + yakisoba + potato balls. Also some California Maki on the side.
[Coffee] Homebrew coffee and a grande mocha frappuccino with valencia syrup. Double blended, as usual.
Current Read:
-None right now. Halfway through Inkheart, but had to stop due to grades being due

I am not of this time.
The people sitting in the coffee shop around me do not realize that my forebears had never even tasted the rich, dark, nerve-boosting drink that they sip in such a carefree manner. They titter endlessly, unmindful of the carnage that other men like me once had to wade through. I wield my pen as a sword, furiously slashing grades into the papers stacked before me.
†††
canta per me ne addio
quel dolce suono
de' passati giorni
mi sempre rammenta
†††
A young woman, dressed in pristine white, reaches around her lover. Like her, he is immaculately-clad. They embrace and whisper intimate things. Something pierces my chest, a burning arrow. There is no lady who prays for my safe return. There is no delicate glove in my helmet. The white of my cloak has been caked in the mire of the battlefield, in the black blood of eviscerated lusts.
†††
la vita dell'amore
dilette del cor mio
o felice, tu anima mia
canta addagio...
†††
The Master takes the arrow in His hand and breaks it. The splinters pierce His palm, and His blood flows as he pulls the barb out. His blood mingles with mine as He bandages my wound with a scrap from His own robe. He straps my breastplate back on and presses into my hand the Sword of His Spirit.
†††
tempra la cetra e canta
il inno di morte
a noi si schiude il ciel
volano al raggio
†††
I clench my teeth as the lady's legs shift. Turning my eyes away, I tighten my grip on the weapon. The Sword of the Spirit--Light and balanced, keen and adamantine. It calls out to me. I heed. I lower my visor once more and charge back into the fray, a battlehymn rising in my heart. Another lust falls, its vile entrails splattering at my feet. The heel of my boot comes down, crushing its skull.
†††
la vita dell'amore
dilette del cor mio
o felice, tu anima mia
canta addio...
†††
I fight on, for I am not of this world. This age may claim my body, but my soul sings for the Ages of Power--Ages long past, Ages that shall return.

#0818AD20062026

Your Black Lion
(Italian lyrics from Canta Per Me by Yuki Kajiura)

Murphy

Current System Configuration: Vexed but fulfilled anyway
Earworms:
NONE, Busted speakers.
Sustenance:
[Breakfast] Raisin bread
[Lunch] Fusilli pasta with my brother's as-yet-unnamed sauce.
[Dinner] Fruit Magic's pesto verdi spaghetti
[Coffee] Homebrew coffee.
Current Read:
-None right now; TIRED.

Had a run-in with Murphy today. I prepared a listening activity for my students, and in light of the near-failure of a CD player I used earlier this week, I decided to bring my PC speakers and plug them into my MP3 player. I tried it at home, and the rig worked. I was happy that my PC speakers were of good quality and could play the song I was using loudly enough for the class. However.

In my second class, the adaptor popped. I was at a loss as to what I had to do. I spent the rest of the period fretting. Nevertheless, it's amazing how everything turned out well in the end.

I was able to borrow speakers from a student, and although they weren't as powerful, they did the job well enough. All three classes were able to do the listening exercise albeit some discomfort. Not only that---they actually liked the song. o_o I'm glad the youth of today are able to appreciate the beauty of symphonic power metal in the age of emo and punk. Remember, dear students: Don't let anyone take away the power of your imagination. Creativity is useful in any field---not only in art. We were created in the image of God, and imagination is part of that.

We are the power inside, we bring you fantasy!
We are the kingdom of light and dreams!
Gnosis and life: AVANTASIA!

In the end, though, I really think that this was all by the grace of God. Perhaps I was too confident in my preparation. Perhaps I was depending entirely on my hardware, so much so that I forgot to think about who enables me to do all things: The Lord.

Now, a little rhyme I wrote for my students. They have a little poetry round robin going on our forum, but I didn't really see it as poetry as much as I thought it was rhyming narration. So I reacted with this:

And thus the Master did speak:
Thy effort is commendable---
But still your poems look bleak
For rhyming is deplorable.

All poetry needs meter--
To this I will concede.
But rhyme forces the matter
'Tis not found in the poet's creed.

For rhyme makes one pretentious
And one's readers slightly queasy
When forced, words are atrocious
And forced writing, very cheesy.

Bound with rhyme's leaden shackles
Words lose their arcane enchantment
Saying less than loopy cackles
Rhyme's burden's not an enhancement.

Of course rhyme has its uses
Light-headed it's entertaining
Ensnared, its soul it loses
Night-blackened rhyme is enslaving.

Let words be free to take flight
To soar to the heavens on blazing wings
When chained, words are without might
They fall to the nethers, decaying things.

When one writes a senseless rhyme
The proper word is "limerick"
Otherwise, one wastes his time
Say "poetry"--false rhetoric!

People often think poetry is "rhyming text." Of course not. Poetry---good poetry---always has a central image around which the text revolves. It doesn't necessarily have to rhyme. Most outstanding modern poetry doesn't rhyme. Just some food for thought.

Exhausted but fulfilled,

Your Black Lion