My Friends

Out of ***********, who would be whom if we were Lord of the Rings characters? Inklings? Disney princes? These are the types of questions we discuss between readings of formal logic and classical literature and runs and bike-rides. Also, my friends eat a lot of pasta, chew loudly, are very funny, especially and frequently in witty ways, are surprisingly well-rounded but yet not quite so in areas of grown-up type maturity, and are each "not in the background", causing a sort of "spirit", comparable, says Max, to the way the fellowship of God the Father and God the Son generate God the Holy Spirit by working up an ethos through labor and love (he cites C.S. Lewis). We analyze cultural movements and theological paradigms and play around with conceptual machinery after emptying out its contents like a bully shakes the change out of a Torrey student's pockets by turning him upside down. We brutally make fun of each other and ourselves, condescend to everyone else, the kitchen is frequently and painfully messy, Halo 3, soccer, wild gesticulations, and energy bars. Colby has been shaved and looks ridiculous. Everyone who knows us is jealous of our commune, summer is unfolding and downtown is bustling. We are all supremely happy but persistently discontent, behind, many of us are jobless, wifeless, and without an extant educational program. In fact some of us don't even have degrees beyond a high school diploma. Chess games are in progress in every room of the house. I wonder how many pages of text get read in this house per hour? A thousand? More? I am eating a pot pie. Max won't allow "billion" to describe the number of cave trolls in the Lord of the Rings but he is polite about it. Not any two members of this commune are not on fire, and I mean that in the way NBA Jam means it, which is a lot less meaningful I think. Every one of us is distinct but not separate, and in fact you would be surprised at how alike and how opposite each man is to the other.

More to come.