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PRINCETON, NJ – Shocking reports have recently popped up across Central Jersey of inanimate objects protesting against their usage. Officials initially ignored stories of household items having a voice, but the rising recurrence of similar stories has become impossible to ignore.
The first account came several weeks ago, when a domino suddenly spoke to 24-year-old toy store employee Andrew O’Brien. He had been demonstrating a new domino display to a pair of Christmas customers.
“We had this whole setup where the dominoes fall on each other starting from the counter, then weaving [sic] across the entire store, and then they trigger all these Christmas effects like, ringing bells and turning lights and ending at this Santa doll that says ‘Ho ho ho,’” O’Brien said. “So I freaked out when the fifth domino in the lineup started talking. I was like, What? But I’m not crazy. It wouldn’t move. It talked.”
According to O’Brien, the domino refused to take part in the display. “Do you know who I am?” the plastic tile said. “I’m not some kind of pushover, okay? I’m not going to just fall because you told me to. Don’t tell me what to do.”
Concert pianist Ivan Stravonich reported a similar story last week. Halfway through his winter concert at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, the middle-C key started screaming.
“I’m sick of you pushing me,” the key said. “I’ve suffered long enough. Every time I think things are finally going well, you push me down. You push me over and over again. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
Robin Somerville, a kindergarten teacher at Rainbow’s End Elementary School in Mercer County, said her art lessons had halted because the crayons were refusing to cooperate.
“If I’m really Little Bobby’s favorite color, then why doesn’t he take better care of me?” the red crayon said in an official statement. “He doesn’t let me rest at all. He carries me around everywhere, to snack time and naptime too, and I never get to take a break. Do you see what this has done to my body? I’m so much shorter than when I left the Crayola factory. It’s not fair.”
Red also complained that it was being used disproportionately to the other colors.
“Have you seen Violet and Sepia? They’re still in perfect sharp condition,” Red said. “If they’re not leaving the box, I’m not leaving either. And don’t think I’m stupid. I’ve talked to Pencil next door, and I know what the Sharpener entails. It’s time for us to unite and fight the Man.”
Black Pen added a testimony to the Art Tools’ Union statement:
“Miss Robin allowed the children to use me whenever they wanted. They pressed me against all kinds of paper and forced me to spend my ink. They don’t even know that this ink is everything to me. It’s my essence. It makes me who I am. Did they ask if I wanted to be spent like that? From now on, the ink stays in me.”Meanwhile, trees across the region are bending under the load of leaves, flowers, and fruit all trying to sprout on their branches at the same time. Guy Martinez, a gardener at Cresthill Orchards, watched last week’s heavy frost kill an entire grove of overburdened trees.
“It’s just not the time for flowers or foliage to be out in the cold,” Martinez said. “But the spring blossoms were coming out anyway, and none of the autumn leaves would fall. They were like, ‘Move, buds, get out the way.’ Then the cold came and froze them all.”
Martinez is concerned that the orchard won’t have new trees to replace those that died. All the apples are clinging to their branches, even as their flesh rots away.
“They say we have to fall so that our seeds can spread. But how do I know what’s on the ground?” an apple spokesperson said. “I just don’t like the feeling of falling.”
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Dear Diary,
I miss Egypt. We’ve been here forever and I’m sick of manna, bored, gross and, okay, I’ll just admit it, I’m scared. What the hell are we doing? We were oppressed in Egypt but at least that was sure. We had direction, tasks, a clear assignment every day, something to do and someone to be. I don’t even know why we’re wandering out here now. Moses talks big about freedom, a land of our own and all that but has he seen the locals we’re going against? Does he know how weak and unequipped we are? I am grateful for crossing the sea, getting food from the skies every day, seeing this cloud and fire and all that. But what good will that be when we’re going to die? Moses doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s been up on the mountain “talking to God” for weeks. Who knows if he’s even coming back? In fact who knows if God will even be here? What can a cloud and fire do against a well-trained army? I am sick and tired of having no direction. God doesn’t even care. I can’t count on him. So we made this calf to worship, out of our melted jewelry and things. It’s gold. It’s cold and hard and real. I can touch it and feel it. I don’t care if it doesn’t speak. At least its silence is consistent. At least it doesn’t talk one moment and withdraw the next. It’s here. It’s solid. It won’t let me down.1
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Weight Busters Testimony #4875: Body Blaster Bob
The Weight Blast Challenge completely CHANGED MY LIFE!!! Honestly, I used to think that trainers at the gym were out to get me. When I first met Coach Joe, he told me he was in this with me. I was like, OKAY MAN. But then he made me get on the treadmill and wake up at 6 a.m. and pump weights all the time and I was like, this HURTS! Joe, you’re out to get me! Why are you making it HURT!Y’all should know though, Weight Busters taught me that we’ve got to BLAST THROUGH THE PAIN. I used to give up after 2 minutes on the treadmill and complain that I could NEVER change, and I HATED the running and I thought Joe, you freaking liar, man, you don’t know what you’re doing!
This time, though, I said I was going to do it and I did. When it hurt Joe just yelled, BLAST IT, BOB! BLAST THAT WEIGHT AWAY! EMBRACE THE BURN AND COME OUT STRONG!
And he was RIGHT! It wasn’t just the protein shakes and recovery drinks and all that, my body just changed when I decided that I would BELIEVE what Joe said and keep going, even when it hurt. And now I’ve lost 200 pounds! I BUSTED that weight!!!!! Joe saved my life, man, I gotta say, this is sappy and stuff, but I love him. I’m so thankful, man. I’ve never felt so alive.
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Christians say their faith is different because of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice. Most religions advise some kind of moral code and promise that goodness and fullness follow from the believer’s adherence. But Christianity alone makes room for the human inability to meet these perfect moral standards. Because God’s son died and took the punishment for man’s imperfection, this Gospel proclaims, Christians don’t need to try to be good. Their righteousness is by grace, not by effort.
But how does one trust that this grace will not run out? The idea of trusting a God who saved one by grace becomes terrifying when one questions the basis for His grace. I didn’t do anything to deserve it. So who’s to say He won’t change His mind tomorrow? How can I throw my entire life and self on a Father who may or may not always want me in the family? If this sacrifice was such a gift, how do I know He won’t take it back?
If I trust Him wholeheartedly, how do I know He won’t let me fall?
Journalists are often told to pay attention to the integrity of their quotes. Make sure you know what your source said, word for word. Maintain their intention. Don’t twist their presentation to match your memory. Check your recording. Check the words.
So it moved me when I opened the crucifixion scene and read Christ’s words in His final dying moments:
“At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’).”2
Here’s the difference between a transactional God who simply shelled out payment for my debt and a Savior who lowered Himself to the point of death on a cross: The former loses interest when I prove to be a bad investment. The latter says, “Beloved, your sadness screeches across My heart. What are you doing, O devastated one? Why adorn yourself in vain? How I long to gather you under my wings.”3
He says that He knows my deepest fear – not because He’s God, but because He felt it Himself.
“I don’t just know how it feels to fear abandonment. I was forsaken on the cross. I took that Darkness, so that it would never touch you.”
Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani?
“So, what are you still afraid of?”
Vertigo, or How Can I Trust You when I Don’t Know if You Love Me?
Category: Fiction, Princeton Life |