"It matters not whether you win or lose; what matters is whether I win or lose." - Darrin Weinberg

Just so you know, I should not be writing a blog post in this condition. If Pam were home she'd take my laptop from me. I'm apt to write the dumbest thing (or worse).

Rough morning. Between people out sick (lots), out of town, at professional development seminars (3 of our adults), and misc. other causes, we were as few as we've been in recent memory.
I always wonder when that happens if a gracious God knows I am about to preach a total loser of a sermon and he's protecting my innocent flock from the harm.
I wasn't feeling right, either. This virus is incredibly stubborn. I came home and curled up in my chair with I can't remember what on TV and lost consciousness for I don't know how long.

Last night I had plans for working on the trailer this afternoon. But the next step involves cutting a hole in the top for the vent and that didn't seem like something I should do while on the edge of comatose.

Kill Bill is on TV tonight. By the time they edit out the parts too violent for even cable TV that will be a 28 minute movie.

I saw a commercial van with "At Ease Pest Control" on the side.
Their logo is the silhouette of a solder standing at attention, saluting.

This morning in class we talked about Hellenism, the Greek plan for maintaining control over their empire by spreading Greek culture. It included three main elements:

• Making Greek the lingua franca of the entire empire. 
• Spreading the Greek religion by building temples to Greek gods in all major cities and assigning local deities (cf. the goddess Diana in Ephesus). 
• Establishing the city as the center of activity. The Greeks "invented" the city laid out on a grid pattern with the agora, or marketplace at the center. (Hence, agoraphobia, the fear of crowds.) I asked what we now call the agora and someone (who shall remain nameless at this point) volunteered, "the mall." I think she was kidding. I think. The correct answer is "downtown." At which point I sang a few lines. They all looked at me like I was crazy. So I said, "Petula Clark." Only one person in the room knew the name. 

Punk kids.

Coffee and brownies straight from the pan.
Good for what ails me on a Sunday night.