Devo here with a long overdue attempt at weblog profundity.  Let me start by saying howdy all! (That's redneck for "Hello my fine constituents.)   Isn't it a wonderful feeling to be doing one thing when you know in the back of your mind you should be doing something else? The answer is NO. No it is not a wonderful feeling. That is why the word "procrastination" doesn't sound prettier.  As it stands the word procrastination conjures up images of painful bowel movements and hang nails, and in case you were wondering, those are bad things.  I visit this site and the site of all my Xanga friends often, and I can't leave without the overwhelming feeling that I am somehow letting you all down by not posting more often, thus I am here now.  I know you are thinking, "Yes Devin, we do rely on you for our very Xanga existence, so it is difficult when you fail to send down the manna of Xanga life. But we understand that you've got a lot on your plate and that you couldn't possibly keep up with our posting capabilities."  To that I say, "YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME?" Have I become some kind of joke to you all. "Oh, look at Xanga cadet Devo, he can't even do one chin up on the chin up bar."  Is that it.  "Is that possible? It actually took him two and a half hours to run the mile? Good Lord! My neighbor's paraplegic dog Bunky could lap him." That's what you all are thinking isn't it?So the truth is finally out. You all think I'm a big Xanga joke, eh? Well I'll show you. This is the part of the movie were the nerds pull ahead of the overconfident, cocky jocks and win not only the house cup, but also win the rights to run the student government. You should be scared, because if movies and after school specials aren't an accurate reflection of life then I don't know what is. And for that matter, I don't want to know what is. 

So what's the big plan Devo? How do you plan to thwart all the nay-sayers?  I'm glad you asked.  I am going to post like the wind. That's right, like the wind. I'll post every day, every minute if I have to. Whatever it takes to prove to you that I am still worthy of your praise.  (Sacrilege Alert, Sacrilege Alert).....Anyway, you'll see.  You might think I don't have a lot to say, but I do, and I will...say a lot, that is.  This voice will not be silenced.....hold on, I have a beep in..................................................................

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...................O.K. I'm back.  Where was I, oh yes. I's gots lots ta say, and ain't nothin' gonna stop me from saying it. So, where to begin.

O.K. so I have an amusing story. Last Friday was movie day for me. Ever since I moved up here to Philly, my knowledge of what is going on in the movie realm has quickly faded away to non-existence.  This is a sad development people, for without my knowledge of completely useless information I'm no longer loved by all. So I've made it a point to try and catch a matinee on Fridays after class.  This Friday, the plan was to choose whichever movie, out of a list of about six, that was playing closest to my time of arrival.  I hadn't eaten so I was hoping I would be able to pull up, run in, buy a ticket, and run back out to grab a bite to eat. However, the only movie that was playing within an hour and a half radius started in ten minutes.  So I bought a ticket to "The Life of David Gale," and dined on some stale soft pretzel bites. They were "pretzel-rific."   For those of you that have not seen this movie, it is great.  A bit intense at parts (i.e. don't go to see it with your mother) but good none the less.  Because I watched the movie by myself I left the theater lamenting over the fact that I had no one with which to discuss it.  I don't go to movies by myself often, only when I'm in the mood to be alone. In my opinion not having someone to talk to has always been the worst part of the whole secluded experience. This time was no exception. Anyway, with the images of the movie still fresh in my mind, I stepped outside to find my car and speed away.  Now remember, if you will, my plan was to pull up to the theater, see what was playing, buy a ticket and then grab a bite to eat, but as I explained above, I never got to the whole "leave and grab a bite to eat" part of the plan. So you'll never guess what I did. I'll give you a hint. My car was still parked in the fire lane at the front of the theater, with the hazard lights on, wondering whether or not I had abandoned it (good hint).  That's right folks, I'm a big idiot.  I got so caught up in the fact that I didn't have time to grab a bite to eat that the rest of reality melted away.  Not even once during the movie did it dawn on me that I hadn't actually parked my car, and that indeed, it was sitting comfortably in the only no-parking zone on the vast parking premises. I'm surprised my car didn't become that one car that fire fighters break the windows out of to pass the fire hose through, just because they can.  But as it was, no one even seemed to notice that it was there. I didn't get ticketed or towed, and nary a cop or theater manager was around waiting to rebuke me for my foolish ways. It was as if my legendary cat-like ninja characteristics had somehow been imparted to my car, and no one even noticed it was there.  I was both amazed and amused. Another typical Devo moment. 

So, the moral of the story kids: let's all say it together,"Pretzel bites will never be worth $4.50, I don't care how soft and promising they look."  Well, that's all for now, but don't you worry, you'll be seeing a lot more of me around.  Until then, I leave you with these words of wisdom to ponder: Why is Evian spelled backwards, "Naive." 

Peace out,

Devo            

Devo here, with yet another (more traditional) attempt at weblog profundity.  First, my apologies to all of my devoted fans (pause to the sound of crickets) for my last few entries. I plead the "crack defense." That's right I was on crack cocaine!!! What other possible reason could I have for (1) breaking the "weblog profundity" tradition (2) writing such short entries and (3) steeping to such loathsome depths of self pity, as is evident in these last two entries.  The answer to this all, CRACK!! Kids at home, I know you're thinking, not you Devo. Say it ain't so!! You are so wholesome and upright. You stand for everything that we should aspire to be.  If even you are vulnerable to the Siren song of Crack, then what hope is there for the rest of us.  You bring up a good question, to which the answer is, "there is none." There is absolutely no hope for any of you out there in the world to resist the temptation and allure of the "Crack monster."  We are all doomed. No, really.  I've read studies.  Some of you may be saying, "NO! That's impossible!! I'll never believe it, I won't.  I have to believe that our futures haven't already been turned over to this hideous foe. I have to believe that there is still hope in the world."  To that I am forced to say, you are only disillusioned. Crack is your only future.  I know, for I am living proof.  Those last two weblog entries had nothing to do with the fact that I was up to my armpits in papers and exams. It had nothing to do with the fact that my only source of entertainment or release during the past month has been the one and only T. V. station we get up here, the WB, that only airs these horribly wretched dating shows like "Elimidate," "Blind Date," and "Shipmates."  It has nothing to do with the fact that I miss home, and I see and hear the signs of life going on without me back there.  It has nothing to do with the fact that after one semester, my wick is growing shorter.  It has nothing to do with the fact that my X-box has been kept away from me all semester, in a vault at the McFarlands. It has nothing to do with the fact that even at seminary, your demons can haunt you.  It has nothing to do with any of this stuff. It has everything to do with Crack. So, hopefully you all understand now, and you can find it in your heart to forgive me.  Though still a little cracked, I am going to attempt to resume normal weblog entries.  It's Christmas time, consider this as my gift to you.  Even though I'm giving you a cheap-ass gift to which you already had access, please feel free to lavish me with more tangible, expensive gifts.  (I like anything Simpsons.)  I mean, isn't that what Christmas is about; What to get me. (Apparently seminary has taught me nothing.)  I trust each and every one of you to make my holidays meaningful. 

I have so much to write about, but it will have to wait for now. Until then, I want you to do two things. One, check out my review link.  Every now and then I will be reviewing a movie that I have seen, either on the big screen (which as you can tell has not happened much this semester) or on video.  Seeing as how I am such an authority in the realm of movie media, consider me the end all be all guide to what you should and should not see.  Next week, "The Land Before Time 20: If I had more thumbs I would put them up too."  Finally, I want you to ponder this thought until next time, which is brought to us by the "quickly growing senile" Mr. T.

"I pity the fool that does drugs." Ain't it the truth Mr. T, ain't it the truth.

Peace out,

Devo (three days sober)

I got your weblog profundity right here. Why do I write? Because it gives me a chance to vent, or let the world know how I am doing? Or is it to know that people still know I'm alive, and love me? That's crazy, no one has or ever will love me....

Devo

The guy next to me is typing very hard on the keyboard. I don't know what is worse, the incessant hammering away, HUNT AND PECK, or the cries of the individual keys as they scream out in agonizing pain.  I am trying to write one of two ten page papers that I have due tomorrow. And to make matters worse, my nose is running, I don't have a tissue, and I would have to cross a whole row of tightly packed people to get to the bathroom. So I sniff, and Sniff, and SNIFF!! Regardless, it is well with my soul.

Devo

P.S. Remember Happy, just tap it. Tap-Tap-Tap-Aroo!

Hey everybody, Devo here with yet another (ahem, long overdue) attempt at weblog profundity.  I fear this weblog will only be viewed by an audience of one, for even if anyone still knows that I'm alive, they have probably ceased to care about me any longer. Alas, it is my own fault. I told myself that when I came up here I was going to keep up with my weblog, and then classes got too hectic, I didn't have Internet at home, yada yada yada, everyone's all like "Devin who?"  For those of you that do care (pause for signs of life...hear cricket noises instead...sigh) I am still alive; barely, but alive none the less.  Seminary is sooo intense. I have twelve papers due this month alone.  And after I finish those twelve papers (if I finish those twelve papers) I get to start in on exams for two weeks. What have I gotten myself into. I knew seminary would be hard and all (he says twirling his hair) but I had no idea that I would actually have to work. It probably doesn't help much that I'm also a wretched sinner, but, according to each new day in class, I am.  In the wacky sitcom that is my life, I look at my sin as the meddlesome neighbor that's always pressing its face against my window watching me to see if I'm going to do any magic. What you talkin' bout Willis? I don't know Webster, I don't know.  For those of you that are now thoroughly confused, that's a good thing, you're right along with everyone else.

Anyway...Things really are going well for me here in Philly. Socially it was a rough go for a while, but I'm finding my nitch (i.e. I've found new friends to replace my old ones.) Crap, did I type that out loud. I mean I really love you guys just as much, if not less than my friends up here. Swish. Nothing but net.  Really though, I do miss everyone. In case anyone was wondering, all the stereotypes are true. All the humorless people flock to seminary.  And by humorless, I mean they don't get me. Can you believe it!! They don't get me of all people. Loveable, huggable laugh-factory that I am.  As you can see seminary has not only taught me what is important in life, but it has also taught me humility.   There are a few people up here that I've made friends with that remind me, rather eerily I might add, of you guys back home.  I even call them by your names. Sure it freaks them out, but at least I'm happy. There is hope for this place yet. I think once Max and Michelle get up here balance will return to the force. Bye the way. "Who da man? Yo da man." What is that crap about? Lucas, I weep for you daily.

So, what news do I have to share from the Westminster front? The only real cool thing to report may only be appreciated by those of you that follow the Christian counseling scene.  Anyone?Anyone? Heh? Heh? Oh. Anyway, I am currently taking Counseling Adolescents with Paul Tripp, author of Age of Opportunity (among other books.)  I was sitting in his class one night and I was struck with a "profound" thought; "I want to be Paul Tripp."  I love all my classes up here, but his is the one class that really strikes a cord with me. God is working through him so powerfully. Not a class goes by that I am left thinking about the wisdom this man has imparted.  So, what did I do? Well, I'm glad you asked. I asked him if he would become my mentor. And, what did he say? H&LL NO!! You can  My @ss!!  No that's not what he said. Actually he told me that he wished more students would take advantage of the resource they have in their professors outside of the classroom.  Long story too long, he is now my mentor. YEAH!!  We meet at least once a week outside of class, and right now we are just getting to know each other. It's great. And as an added bonus, one night in class, totally unprompted by anything that I had said, he told the class that his favorite music group is Radiohead.  Could life be any greater. Of all the mentors that I could have chosen at the seminary, I chose the one that just so happens to love my favorite music group.  I told him he was way to hip for these seminary types. He laughed. And I said again, "No really you are."  He laughed, cautiously, and backed out of the room.  He's my best friend. *Note please do not forward this to Matt Beans, it would break his frail, concave-chested, heart. 

As if that wasn't cool enough, Paul (yes, that's right. We're on a first name basis) is working on writing a version of Age of Opportunity specifically geared toward teens, and he has asked me to help. He will be taking 6 to 12 Christian teens down to Virginia in December and spend a few days going through the book chapter by chapter with the teens, and ask them to teach him how to teach it to teens.  The whole process is going to be filmed, for a tape series that he will use in his lectures. I am so excited. God is opening up so many doors for me up here. For instance, I'm also meeting with David Powlison after exams are through, and he's going to lend me some of his undergrad dissertations that pick apart some of the big names in modern psychology from a Biblical perspective. All the teachers are so humble up here. It is really encouraging. 

On a completely different note, I would like to take a second to send a shout out to the 'rents (that ghetto for "parents" for all you non-jiggy folk.) This past weekend on November 16th my parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Can you believe it? They have lovingly put up with each other, not to mention some really horrible kids for 40 years.  That deserves at least 2 eprops if you ask me.  I love you both, and here's to forty more.

I really miss everyone back home, and I hope I get to see you all when I come home for the holidays. Just a few house keeping notes. For those of you confused or even a little disgusted by my profile photo, let me explain.  I downloaded that picture on a day when I was feeling particularly mischievous, and I thought who better than Loki, God of Mischief to fill my profile picture spot until I can come up with something better. I'm sorry if he has upset you, but this is a good picture of how I feel some days. Remember, Devin is not too far off from that other guys name. Kinda' makes you think.  For anyone that hasn't purchased the new Lord of the Rings Special Edition, drop the keyboard right now and get that DVD.  That is all I'm going to say.  Hopefully it won't be months between my next weblog entry, but just in case, I leave you with these words of wisdom to ponder: Can't sleep, clowns will eat me.  Can't sleep, clowns will eat me. Can't sleep, clowns will eat me.   

Peace Out,

Devo