La Mort du Lapin

I know, I have delayed this for weeks. This poor creature has long been buried here near our yard (meaning that I buried it in a shallow grave that has since been raided by the local crowd, namely coyotes and possibly Ivan's descendants) for nigh unto two months and I have neglected to perform the necessary rites for his passage to the other world. So to defer any punishment that rapidly approaches me for this crime (think Antigone), I pen this eulogy:



To be, or not to be. That is the question. Whether tis nobler to suffer the tiny BB's of the outrageous air rifle, or to live with the question of 'Do I really want to live in shrubbery grown by a septic tank?' His life; it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The dust devils, the jackalopes, the wind whistling through enormous ears that pick up the melodic sounds of gigantic dogs in rapid rabid pursuit. What are men compared to rocks and rottweillers? Would a rabbit by any other name be as spastic? But the rabbit, he took the road more traveled by, and that has made the difference of six inches under. To err is human, to be an Eyre is divine, and to be a rabbit kind of stinks. Bilbo Baggins lived in a hole, not a sandy shallow hole, or a nasty damp muddy hole, not even a hobbit hole, but a rabbit hole. He came to the yard to live deliberately, to suck all the marrow out of the dandelions. Alas, that was his great mistake. And his last one. For then he made like Bambi's mom and got shot. But do not mourn, for that is the great circle of life, the destiny of the Lagomorpha. And so we bid adieu to this most noble of cottontails, to this champion of the oppressed and the hunted. May you live on to run in the great Septic Tank Swamp of the sky. Adieu, adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow.

GO COUGARS!!!!!!!!

Yesterday, BYU took down Wyoming 44-0. It was beautiful. That's BYU's fourteenth win in a row, longest win streak in Division 1. BYU is now ranked #11 in both major polls. If they continue this way (like the overall score for the past two games being 103-0) and go undefeated, then there is a very good chance they could play in a BCS bowl ( dare I whisper NCS Bowl). So things are going pretty awesomely. There are six non-BCS conference teams in the top 25, and three from the Mountain West Conference, which is better than -cough- the Pac-10. -cough- I love this time of year. It's the most wonderful time of the year.

College Application Essay

I'm back! Sorry for the long wait since I have posted. I know that everyone was waiting with baited breath. But seriously, life is going well. In Miss Cunningham's English class, we were assigned to write a sample college application essay. Here's mine. Enjoy.

An Essay About Life, Or Man’s Great Journey

The Knights of the Round Table once sought a Holy Grail. Frodo Baggins once traveled to the land of Mordor to destroy the Ring. Moses once led millions of people to freedom. The Achaeans once launched a thousand ships to recover a woman. These are all great quests; one could even go as far as saying the greatest of quests. But are they really the greatest journeys?

I am the youngest of eight children in my family. All seven of my older siblings are perfect, or within grasp of that goal. They each have their lives planned out and are well on their way to finish their plans. They all know who they are and what they want to do. There is much expected of me, being the youngest. I am to have learned from all of them. I am supposed to take all of their good traits and combine them. In other words, I am supposed to be Superman, or the Hulk without anger issues. I am supposed to be the perfect child of the family, if perfection can attain greater perfection. But the truth is I am not perfect. And however similar I am to my siblings, I am not one of them. I am my own self, I have my own identity. I think for myself. Ego cogito, ergo sum.

But who am I? How do I answer this question? Where do I start? Or, more importantly, where do I finish? The start may be the beginning of my life, the moment of my birth. From that moment, I began to discover myself. To learn is to grow, and in growing, reflection occurs. And in that reflection is the answer to the question. Our own experiences teach us, but our decisions in those experiences mold who we really are. To find myself, I need not lean on others, no matter how strong and firm they are. Yes, I may learn from them and can even grow from their experiences. But I cannot rely on them to find myself, for no matter how similar I am to them, I am different. The journey for knowing who we truly are can only be made by one person. Me. Not my friends, though they be great, wise, and caring; not my family, though they know me best, love me the most, and truly desire to see me succeed as they have; but me. I am the gatekeeper of my own destiny.

I can imagine a throng of learned men, discussing the achievements of my siblings. They go through each one, highlighting triumphs and searching in vain for weaknesses or faults. Valedictorian here, All-State choir member there, future leader in any worthy category of life. Finally, they reach the bottom of the barrel. They look to each other and ask, “What has become of the youngest one? The eighth of the eight? What has he done? What progress has he made in obtaining perfection?” A hush comes over the congregated crowd, who had been earlier declaiming the accolades of the individuals of the family. All expect great speeches of daring deeds and chivalrous acts. But the silence continues, for no one can truly answer. I myself do not know. But how am I to find out? I am Victor Frankenstein, bringing life to my creation. I am Hercules, staring into the six eyes of Cerberus, gatekeeper of Hades. I am Thomas Jefferson, dipping my quill into the ink as I begin one of the world’s greatest documents. The stage is set, the company banded. Thus begins the greatest quest of all.