Still in the flock!

I'm basically writing this post to thank all the people who made my latest flick "the E word" possible. They are: My little lady love, Trina, My mom (i'm serious, she's a big fan, and producer), Mister Dan Franklin (who I'm trying to have "Knighted" I'm currently in dialogues with the Queen of England) John "Mr. Fantastic" Gilmore, AJ "bit man" Schaffer, the quirky hip highschool pastor Ryan "roll up his sleeves" Moffat, Ruthie (my cult following) the Red heads (my savy critics who gave me two thumbs way up!) Stu Weber, and Steve Keels for their great encouragement and compliments, and their openness to "Christian satire" "Jonathan "the pioneer" Martin, The beloved Thurmans, and of course, Mister Jonathan "the great" MacEwan, my left hand (I'm a southpaw, like Rocky). All these people served to make E word a success, and I couldn't have done it with out them. So thank you all, I'm indebted to you, and I am grateful for your impact in and on my life. I figured I would put a unformatted copy of the screenplay for "The E word," just less than half of the screenplay didn't make it into the movie for a number of reasons I won't go into here.

FADE IN:
INT. CHURCH - DAY
RYAN MOFFATT is encouraging a small group of students to share their faith in and around their neighborhoods... to “reach out in his name.” Most of the kids are superficially enthusiastic. CHAZE and SHAFFER are among these superficial kids, and they pair up to lay down the gospel in a neighborhood where they were sure they wouldn’t be recognized.
THERE IS A POSSIBLE CAR MONTAGE SEQUENCE WHERE CREDITS MAY ROLL OR NOT AS CHAZE DESCRIBES HIS EVANGELISM TECHNIQUE TO SHAFFER, COMPARING HIS TECHNIQUE TO LUKE SKYWALKER’S LIGHT SABER TECHNIQUE
CHAZE
I evangelize like Luke Skywalker wields his light saber.
Shaffer is interestedly confused.
SHAFFER
So you evangelize predominantly to defend yourself from the empire.
CHAZE
(astounded)
No Shaffer, I mean that my evangelism skills are comparable to Luke’s light saber skills in episode six.
There is a pause followed by blank stares that allows for more confusion to set in.
SHAFFER
So you use “the Word” literally to slash, and stab at non Christians until you defeat their secular arguments and severely injure them.
CHAZE
No Shaffer, I’m simply comparing my evangelism skills to Luke’s Light saber skills, it’s a simple metaphor that most anyone would get, but your thinking has been skewed preventing you from making necessary mental leaps needed to work with me.
SHAFFER
Maybe your metaphors are trite, and ambiguous.
CHAZE
No Shaffer, superficial, maybe, and locked in pop culture, but not ambiguous.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY
Chaze and Shaffer pull up to a curb in a car that screams low end of middle class. The curb sits in front of an average Gresham house, and the house screams heathen.
INT. LOW MIDDLE CLASS CAR - DAY
SHAFFER
I can’t believe they sent us to Gresham...
CHAZE
I know, we’d be better off in Laodicea.
SHAFFER
Where’s that, maybe we could go there instead?
Chaze, pities Shaffer and his ignorance, he decides that Shaffer doesn’t deserve a response... that was the best decision in this situation. Like an Army recruiter, Chaze moves right along to the next order of business.
CHAZE
Okay, here’s the plan. I’m older than you, so I’ll make contact first. You can hang back and pray for the situation. I hope the Lord has been answering your prayers lately.
SHAFFER
He’s answered three out of the last seven.
Chaze does the math on a calculator in the center console
CHAZE
Geeze, that’s only a forty two percent average. Are you praying with faith or what?

SHAFFER
Yes, I think so... I don’t know.
CHAZE
It’s cool, just... you know, I’m gonna make a run at this, put your game face on.
EXT. HEATHEN HOUSE - DAY
Chaze, gives the “game on” nod as he exits the car, Shaffer begins to pray like the world is gonna end. Chaze approaches the front door to the most likely “den of lies.” He’s sure Christ is gonna have to “intervene” here. Chaze knocks, as fear works its way from his stomach to his heart, through his chest, into his head, then back down to his stomach. After a few seconds, the door is opened and a young man initiates contact.
HEATHEN #1
Hello, can I help you?
The voice is calm, and direct. “Can he help Chaze...” it was a good question. Chaze is overflowing with fear and embarrassment.
CHAZE
(under his breath)
I’m a Christian... I’m a...
(with more shame)
Christian.
Chaze is horrified to share this truth to a heathen, the fear and shame are too much. He retreats back to the car at a fast run.
HEATHEN #1
(waving hand as he shouts)
I’m sorry!
INT. LOW END MIDDLE CLASS CAR - DAY
As Chaze barrels into the car, Shaffer looks up from his prayer.
SHAFFER
What happened.. How did it go?
CHAZE
Not good... were you praying?
SHAFFER
Yeah, but I didn’t get around to you yet, I finished thanking for the weather and my family, you were down the pipe a bit.
CHAZE
Unacceptable. Weather and family are irrelevant to evangelism. I started off well, then I mentioned I was a Christian... you should of seen this guy... He was huge.
SHAFFER
How big...
CHAZE
At least five seven, but people look much bigger when you’re evangelizing, so add on another foot at least.
SHAFFER
Geeze.
Shaffer busts out two mochas from Starbucks.
SHAFFER
Here, I got some empathy mochas...
CHAZE
Thanks, non fat white...
SHAFFER
Mocha with extra whip extra hot. There’s a Starbucks across the street.
CHAZE
I love this culture of coffee.
SHAFFER
Yeah, it’s alright.
CHAZE
Anyway, I said I was a Christian, and he gave me the “death look” so I ran.
SHAFFER
What?
CHAZE
I ran away man, I was ashamed. So your up.
SHAFFER
What... me... now?
CHAZE
Yeah, and weren’t you survey of the year for campus crusade last year...

Flash back to last year AJ is surveying the heathen.
SHAFFER
Do you want to talk about spiritual things?
DAN
No, not since I took up drinking after my days in the Persian Gulf.
SHAFFER
Let's see, next question: If you stood before God and He asked why He should let you into heaven, what would you say? (I know AJ can't speak the capitalized 'He' for God, but maybe we can somehow make him do it).
DAN
I don't think He would want to see me because of the darkness of my soul.
SHAFFER
(writing down responses) )
darkness. . .soul. . .no way... got it. Okay, final question: Do you consider yourself a sinner?
DAN
I just was talking about the darkness of my soul. What do you think?
SHAFFER
I really don't know. I'm just trying to finish this survey. Then we can get to the add-lib part.
DAN
This seems pretty impersonal. It's kind of aggravating.
SHAFFER
Not personal enough...subject aggravated...raised his voice at me...requesting transfer to different neighborhood. Okay, that should do it.
DAN
Wait. Are you offering hope for my helpless position?
SHAFFER
Just got this survey, man. If you did ever want to find out about salvation you could take the incredibly uncomfortable step to darken the doors of a church where you know nobody and ask questions until you get a straight answer. After all, if this is really important to you, you ought to show some initiative.
DAN
I'm closing the door.
SHAFFER
Closing...door...got it. Have a good day.
Flash back to present day in the car
ChAZE
I almost for got about that... yeah you’re up shaff. I’ll be wing man, and you can smack down the gospel.
SHAFFER
What? What does that mean... Smack down the gospel... this isn’t a wrestling match, Chaze it’s evang...
CHAZE
See, that’s where your wrong Shafer. This is a war. Eternity is at stake Shaffer, souls are on the line, heaven vs hell. We’re in the ring Shafer... spiritual warfare, maybe you’ve heard of it.
SHAFFER
Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to start from that angle, there’s also faith, hope, and love.
CHAZE
Right, Paul wrote that, before he was imprisoned, and executed you may remember the last few days of Christ’s ministry. On on a cross... body tortured, Shaffer. It’s not all bells and roses, it’s battles, and death.
Shaffer shifts in his seat, not happy with Chaze’s perspective. He knows there’s a better approach.
SHAFFER
Just start praying, I’ll get us back in the game.
CHAZE
Be bold Shaffer.
SHAFFER
Think positive Chaze, and believe that The Lord is gonna move.
Shaffer leaves the car and looks back in Chaze continues giving the bold sign, he looks away and walks the lonely path of evangelism up to the front door step. He knocks on the door, and again, the door is opened by the same man.
EXT. HEATHEN HOUSE - DAY
HEATHEN #1
Hello, can I help you?
SHAFFER
Yes sir, do you remember the guy who was just here a few minutes ago...
HEATHEN #1
Yes, the Christian guy...
SHAFFER
Yeah, that’s the one, well, I’m his friend and basically, he and I wanted to make sure that... you weren’t going to... hell.
The silence is awkward, plus, Shaffer feels like he cussed by using the word “hell” though he did use the word contextually, it felt like a cuss word.
HEATHEN #1
Well, I was planning on going to Safeway, but that was about it...
SHAFFER
I’m not talking about today... I’m talking about... eternity, sir.
HEATHEN #1
Well, that’s a complicated question, and there are many world views concerning eternity. So, is your purpose here today, to sell me on yours?
SHAFFER
No, I’m not selling anything... I just wanted to make sure you were aware of eternal things...
Shaffer continues on dialoguing for about a minute as Chaze watches from the safety of the car. He activates the automatic locks just in case something bad happens, at least he’ll be safely locked in the car, and Shaffer can play the martyr, it’s a good role for Shaffer, with lots of reward. Not long after thinking these very thoughts did Shaffer frantically approach the car to be confronted by a locked door. Chaze unlocks the doors to Shaffer can get in.
INT. CAR - DAY
SHAFFER
Why did you lock the doors...
CHAZE
I don’t know... Just in case.
SHAFFER
In case of what...
CHAZE
... I don’t know... in case things got hostile. How did it go out there?
SHAFFER
Not super good, I got into some minor eschatology, but I don’t think I made much headway.
There is a knock on the window, A dominos pizza girl drops off a pie.
CHAZE
Oh good, it’s here... I ordered an empathy pizza.
SHAFFER
That’s just what I was craving...
CHAZE
I know, it’s the direct result of evangelizing. Munchies, junk food, thousands of calories.
SHAFFER
I can’t believe more church members aren’t overweight.
CHAZE
That’s what I’m saying Shaffer, nobody’s evangelizing. The skinnier they are the less their doing for kingdom growth, it’s really sad.
SHAFFER
Wow... I had no idea. I’m gonna have talk with my brother... you should see him...
CHAZE
So should we move on... is this one a lost cause.
SHAFFER
You mean, is he predestined to burn...
CHAZE
No, I’m not saying... I don’t know where I’m at with all that. I’m just wondering if we should move on... that’s all.
SHAFFER
Well, I lined up dinner with him at six. So we gotta be back here...
CHAZE
What... we’re eating pizza man!
SHAFFER
(a bit proud of himself)
Well save your apatite, because I got us some dinner evangelizing, brutha.
Shaffer makes a fist for Chaze to tap, but Chaze is oblivious as he checks the time. Shaffer hit’s his fist anyway.
CHAZE
That’s in an hour and a half man! What do we do ‘till then? I can’t drive across town, we’ll hit traffic.
SHAFFER
Well I don’t know about you but I’m taking a nap.
Shaffer takes on a napping position as he drops the seat back. Chaze is still confounded. He get’s out of the car, stretches in anger, looks around, paces, then get’s back in the car tilts his seat back, checks the time... a minute five seconds has gone by, he’s disheartened. Chaze fails to get quality rest. He contemplates if he’s under spiritual attack.
THERE IS A MONTAGE SEQUENCE OF THE GUYS SLEEPING OR LACK THERE OF. OCCASIONALLY THE HEATHEN LOOKS OUT FROM HIS WINDOW IN CONFUSION UNTIL SHAFFER WAKES FROM A NIGHTMARE.
Chaze scares from Shaffer’s abrupt return to consciousness. Reality is back on.
SHAFFER
(startled)
I had a nightmare.
CHAZE
(disoriented)
What.. What happened!
SHAFFER
We were super overweight, but we weren’t good evangelists... No result, empty evangelism, empty carbs.
CHAZE
Wow that’s actually not far from the truth... well, not really... I don’t know how to respond to that.
SHAFFER
What time is it...
CHAZE
I don’t know.
There’s a knock on the door, both the lame evangelists yelp. Heathen # 1 responds.
HEATHEN #1
Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know if you’re still gonna make it to dinner, it’s half passed six.
CHAZE
Yeah... we’re coming. Sorry, we lost track of time.
The lame evangelists exit the safety of the low endo fo middle class income car, and follow the Heathen into his “den of lies.”
INT. DEN OF LIES - EVENING
The three fella’s sit in silence, and the Heathen reaches into a thick book removing a pamphlet, he hands it to Chaze.
HEATHEN #1
Have you heard of the Watchtower?
Chaze is nervous, he grabs the Watchtower pamphlet giving it a once over.
CHAZE
Looks promising...
SHAFFER
Do you have any lemon aid?
FADE OUT.

Free Form

I'm a big critic. I wish I wasn't, but as soon as I open my mouth, it's as clear as... "something that's very clear," nothing is coming to me that's "very clear" beyond a new glass, or water, or a fact... so cliche. The good thing about being a critic... I should say, the good thing about me being a critic is: first, I'm an artist of sorts, so "my work" is continually being criticized. Some positive, and some negative. The nature of putting "something out there" subjugates that "something" to criticism. Now, if you are not an artist, then people are critical predominately of how you are living your life, because a person by definition is living a life "out there" as it were, for everyone to see. We all see the pros and cons of how someone we know is living their life, we've already made fun of "their "new car, "their" outfit, "my" hair, how "they" spend "their" money, what "they" value. I grew up amongst, 5 of the wittiest people on the east coast (I know that's a bold statement, so it's probably false). Together we could make fun of any system, anything, anyone, and anyone's mom, better than anyone we knew. We were critics, and we were proud. Now, life has humbled me... big time. The school of hard knocks has given me some permanent wounds. Reminders of what not to do... good learning devices. I'm not bothered by them, a stubborn guy like me... you gotta figure, life is gonna give me a beat down, that's how I learn. So, let's take a quick second and look at some of my favorite kung fu lines, in some of my favorite kung fu films I've seen over the years:

Actual English subtitles used in films from Hong Kong

• I am darn unsatisfied to be killed in this way.
• Same old rules: no eyes, no groin.
• Darn, I'll burn you into a BBQ chicken.
• Take my advice, or I'll spank you.
• Who gave you the nerve to get killed here?
• Quiet or I'll blow your throat up.
• I'll fire aimlessly if you don't come out!
• You daring lousy guy.
• Beat him out of recognizable shape!
• Yah-hah, evil spider woman! I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your doctor for a thorough extermination.
• I have been scared silly too much lately.
• I got knife scars more than the number of your leg's hair!
• Beware! Your bones are going to be disconnected.
• You always use violence. I should've ordered glutinous rice chicken.

There is a lot of profound insight in these Chinese words of wisdom. There is a reason they are in my journal. Which brings up a good point. This blog is not my journal. If you want to see my journal, you can email me, but most likely I still won't let you see it. You'll have to break into my computer, and look in the "concept81" folder, and then open up "81 journals of a desparate soul." Got that... money baby. This blog is "fadical" and if you don't know what that means, you must read the post entitled: "blogging, fad or rad" or look up "fadical" in the urban dictionary (fadical is also my second favorite word in the English language).
So like I said, these english subtitles from kung fu films are words to live by. Like when I first started out my film career, I was scared of public screenings "I've been scared silly too much lately" would be a good description of me in film school. Later, one technique I tried was to completely bash every aspect of my film, before I released it. That way, whenever someone started bashing my flick, I would start bashing it better than they could: in other words "I got knife scars more than the number of your leg hairs!" My life up to that point could accurately be described as "a daring lousy guy" I was always "using violence" when I should of "ordered glutinous rice chicken." Now when people tell me their opinions of any flick i've done, or poem I've written, or song I've written, or even this little post, I'm unaffected. I've grown since my college years when I used to "fire aimlessly if you don't come out!" Now I've learned some things, "take my advice or I'll spank you" if you want to be a good critic, you must first be a good "self critic" and remember "same old rules: no eyes, no groin."

Bad Hair Life

This is for all those people who don't have great hair. I don't have great hair any more, and between you and me, I blame Oregon. Because let's face it, Oregon is messed up. Yeah I like Oregon too, it's beautiful, but the ocean is FREEZING, and it rains a LOT... and talk about a state full of the worst drivers in the world!!! Morons!!! And frankly, my feet have been doing very poorly here, but my feet are a different post all together... back to my hair. When I was a young lad thriving on the east coast, my hair looked fantastic. Teachers in school used to say to me "your hair is FANTASTIC" and I gave them the look that said: "I know." They weren't the only ones who knew of my luscious locks. Let me drop a few names: My mom, Rebecca, Maria, and my first girlfriend Kara. They knew I had great hair, and they all dated me just so they could touch it... except my mom... and Rebecca. Honestly, who dates their mom? But Rebecca, she was a devout secular catholic as well as a super CRUEL girl, who educated me in the teenage arts of manipulative flirtation, and getting people jealous so you can get someone else's attention. For example, Rebecca liked Karl the German kid, who didn't have fantastic hair: his hair was cruel, and curly, and black but he was my friend none the less. But this Karl was dating Kate, who we called "cat nap" (because she was always taking naps) and Rebecca wanted to be dating Karl. Such is the way of teenagers: they are slave to hormones, fashion, bad decisions, drama dating, and poor eating habits. So Rebecca used me, and my fantastic hair, to make Karl the German, jealous... so that he might be interested in her, instead of "cat nap." So Rebecca faked that she liked me, and went out with me, and flirted with me whenever Karl was paying attention... and me, I was crushed... i was your average looser who was angry, and pathetic... with fantastic hair! But Rebecca's ploy worked, because at one of our life-guard parties, Karl, and Rebecca would disappear for 20 minutes or so, and then re-appear all flushed and nervous. This would cause me to go nuts in my head! I think I gave myself a few gray hairs over this high-school drama... and get this. I was a life guard, and so was "cat nap" and Rebecca, but cruel haired Karl... he worked the concession stand. How could a candy salesman beat out a life guard with fantastic hair and moderate buff-ness. Yet, such was my lifeguard career. So then I left for college with fantastic hair, 23 grand in cash money, and a whole arsenal of cruel dating and manipulation techniques... and I regret to tell you, I used those techniques on many a poor lass. Then one Sunday morning, I repented of all my cruel selfish dating debacles, and cut off all my fantastic hair to remember my repentance. Not long after that, I moved to Oregon, and my hair suffered great tragedy, and so did my feet... but that's another post for another time. Then after five years of living in Oregon "the bad hair with super lame drivers state" I met and married the woman of my dreams... who just happens to have, FANTASTIC hair! I don't know how she does it, my friend with the gift of "getting people to do what he wants them to do" would say, she's blessed with the gift of "FABULOUS HAIR."

Luke Warm Coffee: the "Corintians conflict"

Stark Street espresso shop 2:03pm Monday,

Seth and Trina sit in a coffee shop only slightly in-love. Trina is frustrated at my seemingly lofty, yet stereotype dispensational biblical opinions. After a short but hot debate on 1 Cor 13, Trina had heard enough, she descended on a downward emotional spiral, deciding to become withdrawn. My voice is now just a little less than annoying echoes in a school hallway made by some wanna-be theologian after class lets out and he's free to "speak his mind." Trina proceeds to remove love from all facial expression and body language, but not before she verbally withdrew love and replaced it with a 16oz double non fat white mocha (powdered, not liquid). I tried to get some sort of response out of her, using my cheesy humor technique I learned from countless, "friends" and "Simpsons" episodes. No dice, it failed like the Iraqui republican guard. I knew it was already too late. The decision to permanently withdraw was made for Trina, and she would diligently stick it threw, she always finishes what she starts. I realized then that I probably lost my salvation, or maybe I never had it to begin with, I only understood the bible "theoretically." I had no effective ministry, or plan, and even worse: no vision (20/40 at best). All I had was a luke warm cup of coffee less than half-full, with extra cream, two bags of brown cane sugar, and a sprinkle of chocolate powder. I felt no comfort from the coffee, it would only serve to prompt a yet future irreversible bowl movement. I decided to throw in the towel, I reached for my keys in my back pocket. As I reached for my keys I thought about how I "talk around the bible all day" and Trina performs "practical bible" and "applies it to everyday life." As I stuck my hand into my pocket, I pricked my thumb on my mini leatherman. Blood protruded from my thumb, along with a bitter sweet sting. I took comfort from the wound, I realized I wasn't numb to everything, at least I can still feel pain (beyond the theoretical). Immediately I thought I could use my injury to re-start communication where my joke diversion failed earlier. We had been sitting in silence for minutes, when I suddenly raised my bloody thumb into plain view. I knew this could be a conversation re-starter. I made contact:

Seth: "Hey do you still have that first aid kit in the car, I'm gonna be schleppin' (moving around) boxes all day and I was hoping a band aid would ease the pressure on my thumb."

She gave me the blank stare seasoned with annoyance. To her I was a tall skinny annoying joke of a man, sipping on a luke warm coffee less than half-full, with extra cream, two bags of brown cane sugar, and a sprinkling of chocolate powder. She's too practical to even pity this pathetic excuse of a man, that is unfortunately me. And I'm sitting way too close to the Trinabelle anyway, and there's a hair she notices in my right eye-brow that's bucking the norm, some sort of non-conformist eye brow hair, that refuses to lay in place with the other eye-brow hairs. It needs to be plucked, and fast, before it starts a coo. Disgusting...
Trinabelle: (lacking any sympathy) Don't you have a first aid kit at the warehouse?


She was right, I did have a first aide kit at the warehouse. There was nothing left for me here: all avenues closed for now. 1 Cor 13, simply doesn't apply to todays super culture... or todays marriages. It's just not practical enough. My thumb would have to wait. After all, I wasn't worried about my sore thumb anyway, I was trying to address our wounded pride. War comes naturally for marriage relationships. I can injure a person with words that are as precise as a cruise missile, and as deadly as a GPS guided smart bomb. Trina and I were expert fighters, trained by lucifer himself, though not directly. I kept my weapons of mass destruction in my storehouse for this conflict, it was no use releasing them for this scuffle. I have used them too many times previous to this battle anyway, and the damage was still taking its toll. Christ could clean up the mess if we'd let him, but we had too much pride... maybe later... if we felt like it. All that could be done now is to part ways before things got worse. The spiritual war-fare was too thick, and neither of us brought "the Helper" to the battle, and we were both to tired to pray. Trinabelle got up and made her move to the door.

Trinabelle: "I gotta get back to work."

Seth: "No problem, I'll see ya later."

Trina left the coffee shop like a cool breeze in spring. It sent a shiver up my spine, and turned my luke warm coffee to just plain cold. I got up and headed for the uni-sex restroom to wash the blood off my thumb. I thought about all the battles fought in the past for the sake of pride. Not just with Trinabelle, but with everyone I ever knew. "How long oh Lord... how long will we turn a blind eye to your word, a deaf ear to your voice." Why couldn't I believe Christ was renewing me from the inside? Why couldn't I see the fruit? Where did my faith go? Where was the Trinabelle that I knew just one year ago, that I created in my mind, to serve my needs and make me happy? What happened to reality? What happened to my hope? Where is the Love? What meeting is Steve Keels leaving prematurely to do something that nobody knows about, yet seems so important? What CD is Trinabelle passionately singing along too in her car? What isn't Lenny Martin doing right now? Probably nothing.
I hoped Christ would return right at that moment, to give me my glorified body, minus the thumb pric. But that would only convict me more one I saw Christ's glorified nail pierced hands. I threw some hot water on my face, and left the privacy of the uni-sex rest room.

Seth: (to myself) "At least I have hope in Christ, and my health... and some moose tracks ice cream in the fridge."

Whoever reads this should note that Trina and I recovered from this conflict, and many more bible verse based conflicts, and are using "the sword" less and less (against each other). So that's something anyway... cheers

Blogging: Fad or Rad
rad  /ræd/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[rad]
–noun
1. Informal. radical.
–adjective
2. Slang. fine; wonderful.
[Origin: by shortening of radical]

Above you see the second definition of the term "rad" (the first had to do with radiation!). I often used this term in the mid 90's which happens to be my favorite decade for music, which is beside the point. Here is an example of me using the term rad, in 1992 with my friend Matt McFarland.

A sunny day in the month of June in the great year of 1992

Matt: Hey seth are you going to the HFS'tival? (a huge concert in our nations capital in which all major bands show up from around the world) I hear Beck, Weaser, Toad, Violent Femmes, and Henry Rollins are gonna be on the south stage.
Seth: Abso-freakin'-lutely (early 90's conservative evangelical slang for "yes"). I just got my tickets yesterday.
Matt: Hey man, I like your new board (slang for skateboard).
Seth: Thanks it's pretty "rad."

So back to the title of this post. Blogging: fad or rad. I don't think I need to define fad, as everyone is involved with a fad of some sort, myself included, even as I write this. If you've managed to escape being a part of a fad, please email me, and I will gladly point out how you are decieving yourself. So, Blogging: fad or rad. I pose the question, is blogging a fad, or is it rad. I thought about phrasing the title, "Blogging, radical or fadical." But I didn't think fadical was a word, though I grew a fondness for it, the likes of which I have for few words in the english language like, "anomaly," I'm fond of the word anomaly, and I felt like I could really like the word, "fadical" if it was a word, but I feared it wasn't a word; so I did what any normal person would do who likes a word, and wants to see if it really is a word: I googled fadical. Immediately i got sent to a page where google responded to me: "did you mean radical?" which I obviously didn't mean, I wanted "fadical" but I didn't want to seem rude to google, after all, I find google to be quite handy. But below the "did you mean radical" part of the google page, I saw "fadical" defined in the urban dictionary (which is my favorite dictionary). Here's the definition of "fadical" as defined in the urban dictionary:

1. fadical - used to describe something that may seem, seemed, or will seem radical but is only, was only, or will only be a fad.

Now I'll give you an example of me and my 90's friend matt, using the word "fadical."
Matt: Hey seth, I think the band, "Four Non Blondes" is radical (it's unlikely that Matt would of use the term "radical" in the 90's. Most likely he would of just said rad, but this is just an example so I felt okay about using the whole word).
Seth: I'm sorry you feel that way Matt, I fear "Four Non Blondes" is fadical.

And there you have it! I eluded to my enjoyment (as well as my sister) of the urban dictionary. The urban dictionary has provided me countless hours of entertainment. One of my favorite terms in the Urban dictionary is, "ghost ride the whip." I'll let you look it up for your "ownselves." If you are between the ages of 18-25, thank me later. If your 35 or older I don't think you'll really appreciate "ghost ride the whip" but I hope you enjoyed "fadical," I know I did (and still do!). So, back to my question, is blogging a fad, or is it rad. Only you can answer this question for yourself. Go ahead and leave a comment, regarding this. I know I will. Thanks for your time. seth