Review: Linux Mint 7 is Glorious

I recently finished a review I had been working on for a few weeks for OSNews. It’s about my experience with the new release of Linux Mint 7: “Gloria,” and how it runs on my netbook (the EeePC 1000 HE). As it turned out, I would recommend this system to non-nerds, though I’d have to do some work on it before it would be optimal for them. As it is, the comments on OSNews seem to be very supportive of this review (one of my previous reviews had mostly negative comments– though it is one of the 50 or so most viewed posts of all time).

Linux Mint 7 “Gloria” was released a little while ago, so before it became too old of news, I thought I’d take a whack at experimenting with it for the sake of netbookers everywhere (and for myself, naturally). As I type this on gedit after about two weeks’ use, let’s just say that the system on my EeePC 1000 HE is, for the most part, rather glorious– pun intended. As a bonus, I also got Google’s Chromium browser to run on it, so keep on reading to find the section on that.

To read the entire review at OSNews, click here.

I Periodically Hate Humans

Why does the advertising algorithm on Fascistbook assume that, just because I’m a male, I’m interested in looking at ugly, horrid, disgusting, obstrusive, scantily-clad women? Just because men are by nature this way doesn’t mean that I am! I absolutely hate it! I feel like sticking my fist through my CRT monitor, through my wireless connection, through the Ethernet cable to my DSL modem, through the cable, through varied switches and into an Internet backbone, out through a network of similar devices, and out of the LCD monitor of whoever owns Fascistbook to tear off his FACE. Yes. His face.

It’s 11:33, I’m tired having stayed up until 4:00 AM this morning and then having woken up to Julie singing to me at 7:00 AM, and I was just disturbed by some fascist images on Fascistbook that are utterly annoying and disgusting. I was feeling wonderful having been to the temple beforehand, but now I feel like the fires of Place are brewing in my soul, and that I, if given a butter knife, could, with a happy smile and a cheerful countenance, commit the slow, painful, and very enjoyable murders of each person who works for Fascistbook. Don’t make me go into detail of how that butter knife would be utilized, especially if you’re one of those people who feels ill after hearing of the blood, guts, and gore of other human beings being spilled– no, splattered– out upon the floor and all over the victims’ shirts.

I. Hate. Humans. Periodically.

Eedie & Roobix Dithering Ideas (On Second Thought: The Future of IPF²)

Since my roles as opinions editor, back page editor, technical guru, and comic designer for the West Jordan High School JagWire have now ceased, I sometimes find myself wishing I could draw a few comics again of my beloved and favored monkees: Eedie and Roobix. I’ve been kicking a few ideas around in my head about them, and am now going to put them out on paper (or… web page, as it were).

They are well-beloved to me and at least to a few who know them or who have read the comics. I’ve been thinking of taking up writing a comic here and there again– advancing their adventures into a more idiosyncratic, funny, sometimes soul-searching, and ultimately more exciting world than that of the United States Presidency. Indeed, in the last episode of “Eedie of Aberswyth” that appeared in the WJHS JagWire, Roobix forsakes the presidency, leaves his hat and the White House behind, and both Eedie and he make their sudden and much-desired way back home to Aberswyth– a better and quieter place. Perhaps I could begin a new season of Eedie of Aberswyth in which they come home to find Aberswyth altered somehow… at any rate, I’ve created Fascistbook pages for both Eedie and Roobix. I believe I may try to promote the comics on those pages as well as on IPF² (I’ve also been kicking around the idea of a separate writing page) by uploading the comics to both pages. Ah! Another idea has come to mind, not specifically for Eedie of Aberswyth but about IPF². As mentioned earlier, I intend to find a few more authors to write content for IPF², meaning that this blog will slowly transition from a personal one to a more corporate one (while still maintaining a personality and uniqueness about it).  When this happens, I believe I’ll make a Fascistbook fan page for it as well as a Twitter feed that will automatically post updates. Sadly enough, Twitter and Fascistbook are both becoming very handy free (sometimes paid depending on the services) tools for promoting businesses and such.

As IPF² becomes less and less a personal blog and more and more a sort of area where authors who love to write about any subject at all can share thoughts and ideas to a growing community (it’s still relatively small– I’d guess no more than 10-20 people read IPF² regularly or even just from time to time; the bulk of page views comes from people who are searching that stumble across it and the nigh-on 200 people coming to download WJHS music) and where a community who subscribe to and are interested in this variety of writing, thoughts, and ideas that IPF² will present (say all that in one breath!), I will need to alter a few of my traditions. First of all, I’m planning to write true personal posts at a new blog– The New H (the idea for the name comes from the title of a story about Wishbone I made when I was probably five or six on my old Macintosh Plus). Of course, the time to migrate isn’t just yet, so any truly personal posts (more about myself or people I know and not primarily meant for a wider audience) will still be written here. Also, once (and if) I can get a few new authors and a larger audience, I intend to move IPF² from this subdomain (ipfsquared.wordpress.com) to my own personally hosted domain (ipfcubed.com or .org) where I can still use the WordPress system (it’s downloadable for free) but tweak it and add some extra features (there are literally hundreds if not thousands of WordPress plug-ins). I may implement advertisments on this new site to pay for the hosting and to pay the authors, though I’d prefer to simply have a PayPal donate button as I hate mixing advertisements and beautiful writing. I’m rather excited about this venture, and, if I decide to implement advertisements, it could be slightly lucrative (depending on how big of an audience we get, which won’t be quite so much for a long while). We could also sell mugs, t-shirts, and other whatnots and thingomabobs. I’m liking this idea more and more as I think about it. Prospective writers about any subject: if you like to write about one thing or a variety of things and would like to volunteer with a chance of one day being able to make moneys but at least will be able to get some writing out there into a wider audience and get their names known, please contact me.

I’ll be posting advertisements on Craig’s List soon, I think, and I’m looking into domains and hosting options as I write. The actual website, though, most likely won’t be up for another four or five months to two and a half years (I would prefer to be home to manage the site, but I may be able to entrust its management to someone for two years).

This is going to be quite exciting.

Bah. I have too many projects. I need to work harder on Winter Eternal, not to mention I have two reviews to finish for OSNews that are just rotting away on my netbook.

Google Has Grown a Voice

Today while writing, ironically enough, an article about Google’s Apps (including Gmail) finally losing the beta tag (a very monumental step for Google and its users, I’ll have you know– that beta tag has been on Gmail for the past five years), an email appeared in my inbox saying that I had recieved an invitation to Google Voice. Upon reading about it, I was ecstatic and hoped to high heaven that it wasn’t a late April Fool’s joke:

You are invited to open a free Google Voice account. To accept this invitation and create your account, visit: [link]

If you haven’t already heard about it, Google Voice is a service that makes using your current phones much better!

Here’s what it offers:

• A personal phone number that rings all of your existing phones when people call
• All of your voicemail in one inbox with unlimited online storage and free voicemail transcripts sent to your phone and email
• Low-priced international calling to over 200 countries and free SMS
• Other powerful features like the first phone spam filter to protect you from unwanted callers, the ability to ListenIn^TM on your voicemail messages while they are being left, conference calling and more

It’s currently only available in the US, but the features on this service are phenominal. I’ve texted several people already, I can make calls, I can receive calls and have them forwarded to several phone numbers, and I can recieve voice mail. It also transcribes voice mail into readable text. All of this is for free; the only part of the service that costs money are international calls or changing your number. When I lost the ability a week or so ago to text using Gmail’s chat, I was nearly outraged, but then I knew that Google would take care of me. Sure enough, I can now send texts for free again.  It had nothing to do with me losing text in Gmail chat; the invitation actually came because I signed up to get one and had completely forgotten about it.

As it turns out, the number I selected, despite being in an 801 area code, has to have a “1″ dialed before it meaning that it’s long distance from West Jordan. Since I don’t want anyone who may contact me to call long distance, I’m working on changing that number. Once I change it, I shall share it with many people and revel in the fact that I can block those I don’t want to talk to and record special messages for each individual if I choose. Mua ha ha ha ha!

To read more about Google Voice and to petition for an invitation, click here.

The Search for New Authors

Though I’m quite content as it is as the sole author of IPF² for now and have been for the past several years, I’m one to look ahead. About six months ahead of this current time, I foresee two years in which I will be absent from being able to write for IPF². In such a case, I am now on the lookout for perhaps two or three additional authors who share my spirit of imagination and idiosyncopation who will be welcome and encouraged to write for this site during my two years’ absense as well as after. A person of this nature would have to cognatively think about his or her surroundings perpetually and be capable of writing much of his or her content as very unique and generally hard to find in similitude in other areas of the web. A person who will write for IPF² will have to be able to write at least one post per week– preferrably an average rate of more than that. I will have one person who will post letters or emails I write home here under my name, but I still want other and more frequently updated content. If you happen to be adept at writing imaginatively and would like to write content for IPF² beginning in the next few months, please comment below or email me. I actually have one or two people in mind already, but let’s see if they contact me first.

The Declaration of Independence: Man from Devil

(In short: a document detailing, in general, the wrongs Satan has attempted to accomplish, and then a declaration stating that he has no power over any man or woman who does not give it to him, that we, as human kind, are free from his bondage if we will only hearken unto the voice of the one true God. Let all who uphold such a declaration sign his or her name in the comments below, regardless of religion or the lack thereof, just as the founding fathers of the United States of America did in declaring independence from a similar tyrant over two hundred and thirty years ago).

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the black chains that have bound him or her to another, in certain manners of speaking, and to assume among the powers of God, the separate and higher station to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle him or her, an even mediocre respect to the opinions of human kind requires no such declaration of the causes that impel one to such a separation, detestation, and thereafter ignorance towards the evil entity. However, for the sake of declaration and a more solid and firm determination, such a declaration of the causes and of the independence is made hereafter.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, that man is created in a higher state than and has power greater than Satan and should not be subject to his ways of bondage and misery. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that goodness and light long established should not be changed for light and transient causes, and accordingly time has shown that the person is more likely to suffer silently without redress of the usurpation of the very lifeblood that keeps his or her will to live and excel even at a thread. However, when a long train of abuses and usurpations, whenever any dark angel of the Devil impedes such happiness, liberty, and the very life of which one may live, it is the right and duty of the person to cast off and cast out such dark influences, all for the betterment of the person and the people as a whole. Such has been the patient sufferance of these people, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to abolish such influences. The history of Lucifer is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over mankind. To prove this, let these facts be submitted to an ignorant, fallen, hateful, and blind world. Let them not fall upon deaf ears:

He has striven to take every good thing granted by God, every happiness, every liberty, every tool, every thought, every choice, and twist each into an evil and terrifying device to accomplish his dark and wearisome purposes.

He has attempted to overthrow the will of God and the rights of human kind and subject them to his stifling desires.

He has striven to destroy the happiness and peace of each person granted breath on this earth.

He has striven to tempt each person on this earth to ultimately separate themselves from the loving goodness of God, to thereafter drown them in a heated, clinging, and thick swamp of misery.

He has excited and stirred the hearts of men unto many insurrections to disturb the peace and destroy the happiness of the people who respect God.

He has established by his craft men with ill will and evil intentions in places of high political and social influence to better draw away the hearts and minds of the human race.

He has contradicted every truth and has striven to suppress these truths with his own contrived and utterly false contraditions.

He has softly whispered lies of every nature and subject to all of human kind and even himself to steadily lead them to amounting and endless misery.

He has accomplished the bringing down of many noble and great souls to his bondages wickedness.

He has successfully tricked many of these noble and great souls to choose to follow strange paths away from their God.

He has essentially lied to all that freedom is bondage, that light is dark, and that truth is false.

He has introduced many dark designs through the ages to further subject human kind to his evil will.

He has used the byproduct of mortality, the animal instinct of each human being, even the natural man within every person who has entered mortality by way of birth, to trick many of them to follow the lowest and most evil of notions, leading them to commit horrendous deeds that cover the earth in wickedness and misery.

He has thus waged a war against God and His people throughout the millenia and is still actively persuing the eternal downfall of those vigilantly striving for excellence, goodness, spirituality, and truth.

But we are not weak, and we, as human kind, endowed naturally with the Light of Christ, many of us with the Holy Ghost, and many striving to find and follow the one and true God, know that Satan has as much power over us as we give the brute. In every stage of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms; our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A fallen prince, Lucifer, whose character is marked by every act that defines a tyrant and a devil, is unfit to be and cannot be the ruler of a free people.

Instead, we are ruled by our God, and petition him for redress from this tyrant and peace from his perpetual ravagings of our souls. We are granted knowledge and light to combat such a pestering Devil, and, with the help, comfort, and instruction of the Prince of Peace, we may achieve such desirable peace. From this light and knowledge granted by God, we know and again state that Satan nor any of his fallen spirits have any power over us, human kind, if we do not give it to them.

We therefore, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name of God, our Heavenly Father, and his Son, Jesus Christ, solemnly publish and declare, that these people are, and of right ought to be, free and independent people, free in Him who has given them the power of choice, the design of thought, and the gift of feeling, who has given them such freedom if they will take and accept it, and Him who has given the ultimate sacrifice to maintain these gifts and freedoms; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the Devil, and that all connection between them and the Devil, is and ought to be totally dissolved, and that as free and independent people, they have full power to defend themselves, worship God, establish peace, and to do all other acts and things that independent people may of right do. For the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of God, we mutually pledge to each other and to God our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

— Jordan Spencer Cunningham
Disciple of Christ
Author

Intrinsic Influences, Volume IV: A Kindred Spirit

The time has come for the fourth installment of “Intrinsic Influences,” theseries in which I detail those people in life who deserve a monument. Today’s subject is the first human in the series who I hold very dear and who (I hope and belive) still holds me dear as well, unlike previous influences who were either of animal descent or who had developed negatory feelings against my existence.

I first met my closest and most dear of all friends, Brittany Lynn, over a year ago when we were assigned to be Madrigal partners. I, of course, knew who she was beforehand but had never spoken a word to her to that point. I don’t even believe we actually spoke until the night of the final concert that year, minutes before we were to enter the stage to replace the Madrigals from the year before. I was shy and menacingly indifferent to most human beings except for my few friends and especially my girlfriend (first and still only to the moment this post was written), so I imagine I spoke little and perhaps even offended the poor girl. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the beginning of one of the most dear and wonderful friendships since the beginning of the human race around six thousand years ago.

We truly began to be friends around October of 2008 when we went toWJHS’s Homecoming dance together. Since then, we’ve been through thick, thin, and chocolate stew together, singing together in Madrigals and loving just about every minute of it along with having other varied adventures and exoduses. Brittany Lynn is one of those people who makes a person want to be better just by knowing her. Indeed,  Brittanly Lynn was the sole inspirer or at least had some direct influence in the writing of this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post,  this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post (the pictures, by the way, are firstly of the “imagine” mosaic in Central Park in New York that regards the Beatles’ song “Imagine,” and secondly of my grandmother in a happy state), this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this wishlist, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, this post, and this post. Not even Julie has that much writing about her or because of her. Let’s just say that Brittany Lynn has been a bit more than an inspiration for me.

She’s a person who I can talk to more easily than to just about anyone else, and I enjoy the times, though sadly they’re lesser and lesser as of late, when she and I can have a lengthy conversation about whatever is on our minds, the both of us offering support for one another with responses of advice, queries, and intelligence. I give Brittany Lynn a great amount of credit for who I have chosen to become today: any goodness that’s to be found within me, any desirable traits that remain, the things I think about and work to achieve, and even the mannerism in which I laugh (which is peculiar enough to behold). Brittany Lynn came to me at a turning point in my existence when I could have chosen one of several ways to go, and she influenced my life so much so that I chose the best of the paths. Even still, I find that after long, hard, tumultuous days, if I happen to get to communicate with my dearest of all friends, I generally am blessed with calmness, happiness, and a peace that is harder to attain alone. Brittany Lynn is a very intelligent, talented, kind, and sensitive person, and I thank my God that He had our paths cross as she has rubbed off on me and helped me be more than I could ever have been before more than I think she may ever know.

Closer to the surface, Brittany Lynn has an amazing talent for music; she can sight read playing the piano or singing with ease, she can even make up her own renditions of music with a different arrangement in front of her, and she has the most amazing voice I believe I’ve ever set ears upon. I love to watch her play the piano and sing; it’s glorious to behold.

I wish I could write more about my dear Brittany Lynn, but that would fill up volumes, and I don’t believe the English language has enough words to truly describe her amazing person anyway.

It is said that Heavenly Father sends angels in the form of people to bless our lives. I can attest to that, and all I need to do is say my most dear friend’s name to do so. So it is in life that friends often come and go; they pass through and influence each of us for a short season, and then they go their separate ways, hardly to be heard from again. I only pray that Brittany Lynn and I can remain the close and dear friends we are and be the one of the few exceptions to that rule, as nobody had a more loved friend than I have in her.

Treasury Statistics and Thoughts

Statistics

As treasurer this year, I donated hours in the triple-digits (a very rough estimate based on an estimated average of 4 hours’ work every day for 200 days before, during, and after the school year: 800 hours), bought one pocket PC for $150 and two netbooks for a total of $680 (but sold the original for $220 and have used said netbook and pocket PC in many instances as non-treasurer), and wrote an innumerable amount of words for emails and other documents. Including now, I made myself sound more important that I truly am 496 times.

Not counting any money that was brought in from concerts, the play, concessions, and etcetera nor any money that was spent on music, equipment, and etcetera, (so, essentially only money that students paid and spent with tour, t-shirts, fundraisers, uniforms, and etcetera) the following money went through the treasury:

Income: $142,077.15

Expenses: $140,910.30

A total of $282,987.45 was processed.

After all was said and done, with the income of concerts and etcetera, we ended up with over $15,000 extra for the choir department to spend and use in many varied areas– hopefully one of them being a drinking fountain for the choir room. Kelly D also discovered that we have an additional $6,500 of government money that’s been sitting and accumulating over the years that we must spend soon before it’s taken away. That $21,500  could go a long way.

Over 3,400 emails were sent.

At least 3,600 papers were processed (including receipts, tour forms, participation forms, and other papers).

About 5.91 hours of audio were recorded and edited to produce 90 songs: about 5.2 hours of MP3 files. This beats previous years’ averages of 60 songs (20 songs per CD), though we would have had more Belles Voix songs this year if it weren’t for varied unavoidable circumstances, probably bumping that stat up to at least 100 songs.

Since announcing the beginning of the music uploads back in May, I’ve had an inflation of average page views by about 450%.  I enjoy this very much. :)

Thoughts

Even though my reign as West Jordan High School Choir Treasurer officially ended along with school a few weeks ago, I’ve been in the thick of duties to perform for the occupation. After I had a very rigorous schedule for the last three or four days of school (making sure everyone’s paid off in full and giving my stamp of approval for Kelly D to sign off “All Clear” on their fine sheets), I’ve been editing all of our music and posting it online, and I only just finished a few days ago (except that Thomas White’s song didn’t get exported, so I’ve got to re-edit that one still).  Ahead of me, I’ve still to write a sort of manual for the next treasurer in line, who, if she follows even loosely my expectations (essentially, if she decides to use the application I designed in MS Access 2007 instead of one she’d make in Excel, which I’m sorry to say simply wouldn’t be as effective no matter how many features she implemented in as Excel just can’t handle, store, present, and export data the way Access can), she’ll do extremely well. I’ve also got to transfer people’s extra funds into next year’s blank database.

In the manual, I plan to outline how to use my MS Access treasury application, how to add on new features to it, all the expectations of the treasurer, and how to carry on a tradition of excellece, efficacy, mystery, and intrigue, as well as my own personal story of myself. It will be a somewhat large undertaking to write the said book, but it will be well worth it. In turn, when she is finished, along with the treasurer’s pass-down gift I presented her at the choir banquet, she’ll write her own legacy down along with any additional advice and instructions to give to the next year’s treasurer.

Well, after serving about 200 students and almost twice as many parents for over nine months, I sadly pass the torch (not just yet, mind you– I’m not done with my legacy and legend) on to Mackenzie Kunz, treasurer for the year of 2009-2010. It was a very good experience, and, if I could, I would continue it for the rest of my life. As it is, I’m still going to offer whatever services I can to Kelly D before I go on my mission and after I get back.

Protected: To My Dearest of All Choir Friends

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31 Posts in 31 Days

Aside from sounding like a Baskin-Robin advertisment, I’m beginning a movement to write at least one post every day for July (since I started a couple days late, a few days into August as well) as a part of National Blog Posting Month. Of course, every month is National Blog Posting Month, but I only just discovered it and thought it a good movement. I implore any and all readers to follow this plan. As an afterthought, I think I shall make it a goal to write at least five hundred words in my story every day for 31 days. That’s 15,500 words, which will put me at nearly 55,000 words when I’m through, only 20,000 words away from what I believe the story will end up at. Beautiful. See where cognitive thinking combined with the Spirit gets you?

Peanut Butter and Fruitstuff

I suppose I am a very peculiar sort of a person. Aside from the music I listen to and the things I write, I put my jam (or jelly– we’ll simply call it “fruitstuff” for the sake of argument) on the top of my peanut butter instead of on the other piece of bread– as illustrated below:

I have been criticized for this by my most wonderful of all friends, Brittany Lynn, as well as another dear friend, Anna (I don’t take offense in that nor do I wish to seem as if I separate myself from them; rather, notice I described how dear they are). They argue that the fruitstuff ought to be spread on the separate slice of bread because it’s easier that way, and one risks gathering peanut butter upon the knife and causing quite a ruckus.

On the contrary, I implore everyone to try this method of spreading fruitstuff atop the peanut butter. For one, the knife already has a remnant of peanut butter on it, and peanut butter never gets lost in the fruitstuff jar (but fruitstuff is very good at getting stuck in a peanut butter jar, causing major problems for everyone who is civilized). For two, doesn’t that picture up above of my method simply look much happier and more welcoming than a standard peanut butter and fruitstuff sandwich does while in the works? It’s as if it’s saying, calling to you in an echoic sort of a distant voice, “It’s such a beautiful place! Come eat me! Be happy! Don’t take hallucinogenic, illegal drugs!” For three (and this is yet umproven), the said sandwich will taste better. For four, people think of you as a sort of weird genius simply for “thinking differently,” to paraphrase Apple (their original phrase, “Think Different,” is actually gramatically incorrect and, as such, should be used with utmost sensitivity).

Protected: To My Most Dearest of Madrigal Friends

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The Curse of Sleep

Ever since the time between fifth grade and now, I began to sleep worse and worse, getting generally less energy physically and mentally. Perhaps I got into the bad habit of staying up until five in the morning reading back then, and it hasn’t quite gone away; perhaps it’s a part of growing older; perhaps it’s my lot in life. It was mild at first, but it’s come to a head through the past three years– though I’ve learned to cope with it… cope, however, is not even the word I would use to describe. From then on, sleep has become a less and less desirable thing due to either the horrid dreams I can have or the fact that waking up often leaves me empty and unhappy, and it often takes some mental, emotional, and spiritual doing before I can normalize and level myself. Sometimes I fear to go to sleep because I never know how the next day will be affected by it. Sleep is no longer a welcomed restful thing; it is a feared and hated science, but always needed, and I always must surrender to it even though I don’t often get what I need from it.  Sometimes I am awakened in the middle of the night by horrific dreams and cannot sleep any longer for the remaining hours, and then the day following is lived in quiet pain. Sometimes I sleep through the dreams but still require hours of convalescion the following day, and it takes some doing to first act myself and eventually feel myself. Sometimes I don’t have horrid dreams, or I don’t remember whatever I dreamed about in the first place, but I awake more than just uninspired, and I am quite unhappy for no reason at all. There still are times when I have happy or simply normal dreams and/or I awake feeling glorious at the start instead of having to work up to it. At the moment, those times seem few and far between. Most of the fear of sleep comes from the fact that I can’t control these horrid dreams; they come at the whim of a demon. I wonder if, perhaps, I go to sleep at a decent hour (even 11:00 PM would feel like heaven), these dreams will begin to cease, or I will be able to wake up when I intend to and not automatically have my well-being at a negative thirteen. Starting the day at zero would suffice; it’s much easier to start at a neuteral area than it is to begin as if you had had tea and crumpets with the Devil.

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping
I, my loving vigil keeping
All through the night.

While the moon her watch is keeping
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O’er thy spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night

I have longed beyond imagination for that “pure and holy feeling” that others seem to get from rest, and I have longed for this song to apply to me, but, as of yet, to little or no avail.

In any case, I will still go to sleep night by night, turning on my beautiful music and praying with any and all drops of faith I can muster for deliverance from this curse once and for all. As it is, I have learned much and grown much from this curse, but I can think of few things more desirable than to have this curse lifted from my weary spirit.

Some of my most favorite music from all time having to deal with this curse:

 

Hold On, sung by the BYU Singers, from the musical Secret Garden:

When you see the storm is coming,
See the lightning part the skies,
It’s too late to run-
There’s terror in your eyes!
What you do then is remember
This old thing you heard me say:
“It’s the storm, not you,
That’s bound to blow away.”

Hold on,
Hold on to someone standing by.
Hold on.
Don’t even ask how long or why!
Child, hold on to what you know is true,
Hold on ’til you get through.
Child, oh child!
Hold on!

When you feel your heart is poundin’, 
Fear a devil’s at your door.
There’s no place to hide-
You’re frozen to the floor! 
What you do then is you force yourself
To wake up, and you say: 
“It’s this dream, not me,
that’s bound to go away.”

Hold on,
Hold on, the night will soon be by.
Hold on,
Until there’s nothing left to try.
Child, hold on, There’s angels on their way!
Hold on and hear them say,
“Child, oh child!”

And it doesn’t even matter
If the danger and the doom
Come from up above or down below, 
Or just come flying
At you from across the room!

When you see a man who’s raging,
And he’s jealous and he fears
That you’ve walked through walls
He’s hid behind for years.
What you do then is you tell yourself to wait it out
And say it’s this day, not me,
That’s bound to go away.

Child, oh hold on.
It’s this day, not you,
That’s bound to go away!

There Will Be Rest, sung by the West Jordan High School 2009 Madrigals, composed by Frank Tichelli (poem by Sara Teasdale):

There will be rest, and sure stars shining
Over the roof-tops crowned with snow
A reign of rest, serene forgetting,
The music of stillness, holy and low.

I will make this world of my devising
Out of a dream in my lonely mind,
I shall find the crystal of peace; and above me
Stars I shall find.

Sleep, composed by Eric Whitacre (poem by Charles Anthony Silvestri)

The evening hangs beneath the moon–
A silver thread on darkened dune.
With closing eyes and resting head,
I know that sleep is coming soon.

Upon my pillow, safe in bed,
A thousand pictures fill my head.
I cannot sleep; my mind’s aflight,
And yet my limbs seem made of lead.

If there are noises in the night–
A frighting shadow, flickering light–
Then I surrender unto sleep
Where clouds of dreams give second sight.

What dreams may come, both dark and deep
Of flying wings and soaring leap

As I surrender unto sleep
As I surrender unto sleep…

(A note: I found it interesting that this song can be interpreted not about sleeping but about the final moments of a life as a person falls into an eternal slumber).

Treasure Island’s Surprise

A while back, I bought several books, two of them old classic tales that I had been wanting to read the original versions of. One of these was Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. As I read the first few chapters, I was a little surprised that such a book about some of the wickedest and dirty men in existence (pirates) has no swearing and not even innuendos. Even the movie “Pirates of the Caribbean” has layered swearing and a disgusting amount of innuendos, the second and third movies especially. What’s more is that Treasure Island is a surprisingly easy read; I had assumed it would be a slow book to read. If that isn’t enough to make one want to read it, it’s a very good book, full of the kind of adventure (and even humor) that boys seem to always romanticize at a young age. Read it for yourself.

My copy’s introduction, interestingly enough, is written by Eion Colfer, one of my most favoritest of all authors. He describes in his own signature way being a young boy and loving the book; he says that he remembers being so worried for Jim Hawkins’ future that he left a sweaty handprint on his school desk. He also mentions that he’s met a dozen other authors who count it as their favorite book. “Counting me,” he says, “that’s thirteen.” Funny that one of my favorite authors’ favorite books has also been my most favorite book ever since I read the water-downed “Great Illustrated Classics” version when I was a child. I wish I had read the real version then. It’s very much better, and would have been a small challenge to read at that age. I like a challenge.

The Angry World at Large

In my online adventures, I have come into contact with countless people who look for any imperfections and loopholes in what anyone else says even if it’s nonexistent. They are not satisfied with a person’s opinion, honest effort, or way of doing things. If you give this person a cookie, he will ask for milk, and when you give him milk, he will want water to wash the milk down, and when you give him water, he’ll suddenly become angry, throw the glass on your foot, spit in your face, and cuss at you until you feel your soul has fled your body in fear of the man. These people are never pleased.

The Internet seems to be a place that millions of angry, unhappy people flock to so as to feel important by belittling others whether or not they have more knowledge and/or wisdom concerning things than those they belittle. If I was interested immensely in psychology, I think I would study the mentalities of these sorts of angry people who seem to only find joy in putting other people and ideas down no matter who or what. The angry world at large is online.

These people are a menace to online society; I hardly understand them. Why not encourage, compliment, and constructively critisize or correct when necessary? You and everyone around you are happier that way.

Templistic Ponderations

Today, a most marvelous man pulled up at my address in a very shiny Jaguar (the car– not the animal) as Brittany Lynn and I were finishing up practicing my song for Sunday (my most wonderful aforementioned friend will be accompanying my mediocre singing with her professional and otherwise celestial accompaniment talents this upcoming Sabbath) as well as  I was just done showing her my subsomnulative railroad. The man handed me some expensive luggage, and, after thanking him for the gift that will help me on my mission (as well as my dear friend for her assistance), I gathered up my shoes that have been through  nearlt eighty Madrigal gigs (including concerts) and my temple recommend, and we went off to make a visit to the Mount Timpanogos Temple.

This man I only just met around a month or so ago at the Senior Awards Ceremony. He sat across from me and struck up conversation. He apparently finds me a good young person and has taken a keen interest in my welfare. Though I hardly have known him, and not for very long, he not only purchased some very, very nice luggage for me as a graduation gift (that will ultimately serve with me on my mission in around six months), but has, as mentioned, taken me to the temple, and will take me again next week, and I hope many more times before my mission arrives. He’s one of the kindest, most honest, spiritual, wise, and combined intelligent  people I have yet met, and I’m glad our paths crossed so haphazardly and randomly not so long ago.

Today was the first time I’ve been to the temple in at least two years, I’m sure. I felt I was doing quite alright in life, and in truth, I was for the most part. However, I’m never one to settle for mediocrity, and “quite alright” simply isn’t good enough. Going to that sacred building today was the best decision I have made in quite a while. I will explain later in this post. First I must explain just how many roadblocks seem to pop up when one tries to go to the temple: sure signs that the blasted Devil, bless his black little heart, doesn’t want us to go. When this kind man first asked me to attend the temple with him, I didn’t have a current recommend, and I must admit that I was slow to get one. It began with that I didn’t want to make an appointment. Then there wasn’t enough time, and etcetera and etcetera; I believe that one of the craftiest devices to keep us from the temple is our own lack of willpower. We often project it as some horribly hard thing to attain, and life is simply too busy to fit it in.

At last, however, I got my recommend, and we were good to go. Even still, there was a rebellious portion of me that didn’t want to call the man back. “I feel weird– I hardly know him.” More excuses. Things panned out aright, and today came, and he arrived. It was wonderful to sit in the leather interior of that Jaguar and listen to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s albums as we talked about my occupation, my writing, his stake’s upcoming pioneer trek, his life, missions, and everything else under the sun (and beyond it). I felt at home with this person. The father I have never had– on earth, that is. Several men have filled that empty slot; I will write about them later on in this year.

At any rate, we arrived, we entered (the temple had some of the most glorious bronze automatic sliding doors I have ever witnessed– I plan to have doors like that somewhere in my humble abode one day). Once in the baptistry, I handed my recommend over. The old man at the desk halted us.  As it happens, my second counselor (who also doubles as my uncle and triples as my home teaching companion) forgot to put the date on my recommend, thus making it nigh on impossible for me to enter the baptistry. A nice man from up above came down the stairs and took us aside and went to try to contact my bishop as well as my uncle but to no avail. He came back and told me he would let us in as he could tell it was a new recommend (I got it around two weeks ago) but that I should scold my uncle for forgetting the date. I will commence to do so this coming Sunday, but not too harshly. He is human and family after all.

This brings me to the point of this entire post. The feeling one gets as one serves in the temple is beyond comparison. There are many good, happy, beautiful, touching, wonderful, exciting, and spectacular feelings that abound in this universe, but the feeling a person gets when he feels the Spirit is beyond them all. Harmonious beauty comes into a person’s heart and soul, and it’s beyond me why anyone would deny themselves such perfection, light, and knowledge for the woes of the world, but then I, too, am undeniably and uncomparably imperfect and have made more than my own share of mistakes, so I suppose I know just why. A person forgets what beauty sounds like. A person forgets was beauty feels like. A person becomes hardened against it, and for all of his or her qualities, forgetting what beauty really is simply cannot be compensated. I wish that I could carry this feeling with me from now onward, wherever and whenever I go. It keeps me sane, sober, happy, wise, and in touch with knowledge. I know it’s possible, so I must take it with me come Place or high milkshakes.

This is all rather an explosive post. It’s hard to put into several hundred words what belongs in volumes. I hope to add these learning experiences into the stories I write– little influences and principles weaved in secretly.

I learned from Gary, this wonderful person who I’ve already come to know a great deal, that not only is West Jordan geographically the best place to live in the Salt Lake Valley (it’s set upon a solid rock shelf in a way so that, supposing an earthqquake comes about, the city will be relatively unscathed in comparison to the rest of the valley), but also that the LDS Church owns a building on the outskirts of Jordan Landing where the computers dealing with the operation and tranferrence of information between all of the temples in the world are housed. Now, we can take the Church’s opinion as golden; just why would they choose West Jordan as the area to place such sensitive, vastly important, and essential equipment?

I love this city.

Decibles and the Abundance Thereof

For a seemingly great percentage of people my age, they must put their headphones in their ears and turn up the volume until people ten feet away can hear it as if the headphones were miniature, portable speakers. I don’t understand why– perhaps they enjoy the beat, or perhaps they want to shut out the world around them by bringing the world into their souls (it always seems to be music of trash decent that these people listen to), or perhaps they merely want to do the opposite of whatever it is their parents and leaders tell them. I don’t work that way. Headphones are nice for when I want music while I roam about or am in unpleasurable company, however, I prefer to have at least 5.1 surround sound (7.1 would be preferable) in my personal study. Headphones are a downgrade to speakers and subwoofing power (even the ridiculously expensive headphones that have amazing bass capabilities). At any rate, having music in the background playing idly as I work often isn’t enough for me.  I generally love to turn up the volume to a degree that my mother finds offensive no matter what music is pronounced because of it. This is because, the louder my glorious music is (and most of it really isn’t that loud– piano, orchestra, some folk, and choral for the most part; oldies and other sorts of bands when I’m feeling rebellious), the more I can feel the music in this industrial soul of mine; the more I can feel it, the more I can love it, enjoy it, and be inspired by it. It’s never a horribly loud volume, though.

The Subsomnulative Railroad

Sub, meanung “under,” and -somnulative, deriving from the Roman god of sleep, “Somnus,” combine to make the new word I have now invented known as “Subsomnulative,” meaning “under sleep.” The official definition will be:

Sub-som-nu-lat-ive (sub-säm-nyōō-lāt-iv): Of or pertaining to the area that lies beneath a bed, couch, loft, cot, box, or other apparatus generally used for sleep. See SUBSOMNULATE, SUBSOMNCRALATE, SUBSOMNCREPENATE,  SUBSOMNSTACATE, SUBSOMNMONSTRUCREPENATE, SOMNSUBSOMNULATE, SUBSOMNLOCOMOTION (to see watered down definitions, hover mouse over appropriate link).

–Cunningham’s New World Dictionary

Now that you know what subsomnulative means, read on.

I began around 3:30 PM yesterday to first test certain materials and then build a subsomnulative railroad. It hangs underneath my bed from the grate keeping my mattress atop the loft. Using pieces of wood from a leftover fence, push pins, paper, and wire of some nomination that rubs off on hands, I built wooden, hanging trusses of sorts for the track to rest on above my computer. It’s relatively level yet still slanted slightly to one side making the train’s speed slow down or speed up depending on which part of the course it’s on. It now runs the Union Pacific’s Overland Limited and the Hogwarts Railways’ Hogwarts Express daily.

Subsomnlocomotion is the new Pokemon.

A special thanks to Bachmann Trains for making affordable HO scale model trains for children worldwide to enjoy.

Morning Verse

It was morning, and so I, being the good little boy that I try to be, performed my daily personal and private worship. Upon opening to the book of Alma, the thirty-third chapter, I happened upon some very interesting verses. It mentions the “type” that Moses raised up in the wilderness (the bronze snake or serpent upon a cross), and that if the people who were poisoned by the actual serpents would only look up at the bronze one upon the cross, they would live. Using one’s noodle, one can understand how if one only “looks upon” the Son, Jesus Christ, who was raised up on the cross to die that we might live, one can be healed and have eternal life.

The scripture, Alma 33:14-23, with footnotes, courtesy of LDS.org:

 14 Now behold, my brethren, I would ask if ye have read the scriptures? If ye have, how can ye ^adisbelieve on the Son of God?

  15 For it is ^anot written that Zenos alone spake of these things, but ^bZenock also spake of these things—

  16 For behold, he said: Thou art angry, O Lord, with this people, because they ^awill not understand thy mercies which thou hast bestowed upon them because of thy Son.

  17 And now, my brethren, ye see that a second prophet of old has testified of the Son of God, and because the people would not understand his words they ^astoned him to death.

  18 But behold, this is not all; these are not the only ones who have spoken concerning the Son of God.

  19 Behold, he was spoken of by ^aMoses; yea, and behold a ^btype was ^craised up in the wilderness, that whosoever would look upon it might live. And many did look and live.

  20 But few understood the meaning of those things, and this because of the hardness of their hearts. But there were many who were so hardened that they would not look, therefore they perished. Now the reason they would not look is because they did not believe that it would ^aheal them.

  21 O my brethren, if ye could be healed by merely casting about your eyes that ye might be healed, would ye not behold quickly, or would ye rather harden your hearts in ^aunbelief, and be ^bslothful, that ye would not cast about your eyes, that ye might perish?

  22 If so, wo shall come upon you; but if not so, then cast about your eyes and ^abegin to believe in the Son of God, that he will come to redeem his people, and that he shall suffer and die to ^batone for their sins; and that he shall ^crise again from the dead, which shall bring to pass the ^dresurrection, that all men shall stand before him, to be ^ejudged at the last and judgment day, according to their ^fworks.

  23 And now, my brethren, I desire that ye shall ^aplant this word in your hearts, and as it beginneth to swell even so nourish it by your faith. And behold, it will become a tree, ^bspringing up in you unto ^ceverlasting life. And then may God grant unto you that your ^dburdens may be light, through the joy of his Son. And even all this can ye do if ye ^ewill. Amen.

Think Different

Once upon a most future time, the people in the world accelerated to become obsessed with being so different from one another that, eventually, all of the different ways to exist, choose, think, and act were used up, and nobody could get any more different from the next person than he or she already was. Groups only consisted of one human being, nations and laws ceased to exist,  and chaotic anarchy reigned. The one person who was not quite so bent on being different than all of the differentiated people but who simply wanted to live her life to the fullest was fairly happy considering everyone was so different that nobody was friends with anyone (including herself), but she was still lonely. One day, while stepping around the most recent hourly murder, she found an old rocket in what used to be Florida whose astronaut  had been shot in the head before takeoff a few decades before. She heaved the dead astronaut out of the cockpit and left our world in search of a new one where people stopped trying to be different and simply were regardless. Nobody ever saw her again.

THE END

Peanut Butter Bogies

There is absolutely nothing more putrid than Peanut Butter Bogies. These are created when an utterly ignorant human being dips a knife back into the peanut butter jar after already using it to spread jam/jelly. Residue of the jam or jelly is left behind in the peanut butter and hardens somewhat so that when it is taken back out later by an innocent  bystander with a hunger for a peanut butter and jam sandwich,  the innocent one is, after a few enjoyable bites, suddenly presented with a disgruntling texture that reminds one of bogies.

To those ignorant: please, for the sake of the innocent, either spread the peanut butter first and the jam/jelly after or use separate knives for each entity.

Making the World a Better Place One Ficticious Forward at a Time

I. HATE. FORWARDS.

Today I disproved yet another forward. Sometimes I like to take a forward I’m sent that’s even more stupid than usual, chew it up, and spit it out for what it is. It was a variant of one of those “Micro$oft is going to make u start payying fro MSN and Hotmale if u dont forwurd this onto 18 pepll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1″

Included below are the actual forward as well as my rebuttal to it.

Here it is in full (same font size and everything– annoying, isn’t it?):

The use of MSN and e-mail will cost money from Summer 2009 onwards. If you
Send this message to 18 different people from your list, your little MSN
Icon will turn blue and that will make it free for you.go on to (www.msn.com) and see it yourself. Don’t forward this message,
But copy and paste it so that people will actually read it.
It is Andy and John – the directors of MSN – sorry for the interruption, but
MSN is really closing down. This is because too many inconsiderate people
Are taking up all the names (e.g.. Making up lots of different accounts for
Just one person), and we are only left with 578 names.
If you would like to close your account, DO NOT SEND THIS MESSAGE ON. But,
If you would like to keep your account, then SEND THIS MESSAGE TO EVERYONE
ON YOUR CONTACT LIST. This is no joke, as we Will be shutting down the
Servers. Send it on, thanks.
WHOEVER DOES NOT SEND THIS MESSEAGE, YOUR ACCOUNT WILL BE CLOSED AND IT WILL
COST YOU 100.00 (pending) A MONTH TO USE. SEND THIS TO EVERYONE ON YOUR
CONTACT LIST. NOW YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO. PLEASE DO NOT FORWARD THIS OR REPLAY.
COPY THE WHOLE E-MAIL. RETURN TO YOUR INBOX AND CLICK ON NEW. THEN PASTE
‘THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION’.
Hey everyone, I don’t normally send this sort of stuff out, but I had a Look
on the Internet and its actually true that by the 30th November, we Will
have to pay for the use of our MSN and e-mail account(s), unless we Send
this message to at least 18 contacts on our contact list. It’s no joke, but
if you don’t believe me, then you can see for yourself -Go to the site
(http://news.BBC.co.UK/1/hi/business/1189119.stm) – and See For yourself.
Anyway, once you’ve sent this message to at least 18 contacts, your MSN icon
Will turn blue. Please copy and paste, but don’t forward it, as people won’t
Take notice of it

And here’s my reply:

**sigh** I thought people would have figured out by now that this is a load of chocolate chips.

First, who in the name of Apple Beer are “Andy and John?” Who do they think they are to just say, “It’s Andy and John– we have influence, so listen to us?” In the immortal words of Kathleen Kelly to Joe Fox in You’ve Got Mail:

Kathleen : “Joe. Just call me Joe.”

Joe : Sure.

Kathleen : As if you were one of the stupid 22-year-old girls with no last name. “Hi, I’m Kimberly.” “Hi, I’m Janice.” Don’t they know you’re supposed to have a last name? It’s like they’re an entire generation of cocktail waitresses.

If these ambiguous characters aren’t enough to set off your radar (and their horrible senses of punctuation, grammar, and capitalization, not to mention the fact that it’s really quite impossible to “run out” of screen names– there are infinite possibilities of screen names for MSN, Hotmail, and Windows Live alone; it’s not as if Microsoft has to buy the names from some higher being and said being is disallowing the purchase of more screen names because we humans have inconsiderately used too many), read the linked article. If a person merely reads the article that this false forward links to, the person will find out that Microsoft was planning to charge for extra services, but was still planning to keep Hotmail and MSN free. And I quote (emphasis added), “Microsoft stresses that the site’s core facilities including Hotmail will remain free.” Read it for yourself. Also, the date on this article is Sunday, 25 February, 2001. Two thousand and stinking one. If you haven’t had to pay for Hotmail or MSN by now, I think you’re safe.

No, I’m not done disintegrating the garbage some idiot put together back in 1999 that’s still circulating. If you’re too lethargic to read through the linked article and find out for yourself that the entire thing is trash, look it up on Snopes. It’s easy. Here, I’ll even provide a link: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/petition/im.asp Ah. False. I love that word sometimes.

Please. Cease the insanity. Read from a reliable source before you forward (or sense that some idiot from Alabama who has the mental capacity of a worm wrote it).

Forwards are totally nineties, anyway. Please stop wasting bandwidth with it. I hateforwards. Passionately. You should, too.

Sincerely and with much love,

–Jordan Spencer Cunningham

Four Hours of Wasted Life, Imaginative and Theoretical Scheming

Here in the Western United States, students of any subject, to enroll in most colleges and universities, must take what is known as the infamous “ACT;” the acronymn doesn’t anymore stand for anything in particular. Ha. From 8:00 AM to 12:00 PM on this fine Saturday marked the hours in which I was scheduled to waste taking said test, and take it I did.

It was a relatively easy test to take. Though I was pretty rusty with some of the subjects in the mathematics section and the science section, causing me to run a little tightly on time with the two, I feel very confident overall about my score, especially the English and Reading sections. The test, of course, was utter garbage and a complete waste of my time, but I consider university a worthy enough goal to take the ACT (despite the fact that I know I’ll be wasting plenty more hours in varied forced subjects there). Not only was there at least one spelling mistake and a few grammatical sins (at least in my book—grammar can be bent in varied ways, and heaven knows 100% of people don’t always use grammar understood best, and 50% of people don’t even try resulting in an entirely new, alien, and poor dialect of English, sometimes known as “American"), but the test didn’t really seem to truly assess my aptitude in any of the sections. It seemed more of a spattering of random questions that could have been found after several hours’ search on Google loosely knit together to create a “test.”

I did enjoy finding a loophole around the certification section that one signs at the very end. A person taking the test is instructed to copy a sentence (which has to be in cursive—not in print or hieroglyphics, for heaven’s sake)  and sign below it in order to ensure that the tester is the person that the tester says he or she is as well as to agree that he or she will not disclose any test questions or answers to another living soul so long as he or she shall live. The exact phrase went something like “…will not communicate in any way…” I quickly deduced that transmitting by any way electronically, orally, or in writing would still violate those terms, and (assuming the ACT administration found out, which is unlikely) the organization could pounce upon me and the person I shared the information with and thenceforth ruin my and his or her educational lives forevermore. To bypass this, all I have to do is get the person I intend to share the information with to ask me what the questions/answers aren’t. I can legally share what they aren’t; assuming I remember all of the questions and answers, and assuming the person asking asks every possible question, he or she will eventually find a complete list of what questions and answers are not on the test, and, by using a bit of logic, will be able to find out for his or herself what the questions/answers for the test are. I agreed not to communicate in any way the questions/answers, but the contract completely left out all mentions of uncommunication. Uncommunicatively, it’s theoretically possible to share the information on the ACT without communicating anything and also not breaching the contract.

Mua ha ha.

Inquiry of Details of Parliament

Hello there,

I know this probably isn’t quite the right department to contact, but I can’t seem to find one that will be able to answer my inquiry, so I was hoping that this was the best one that could either do a bit of work not specified on the Parliament website or give me the contact details of someone who could.

I’m an author situated in the United States, and I’m currently writing a section in one of my stories that takes the protagonist from the street into the Parliament Clock Tower. Having never yet visited the Clock Tower (or anywhere in Europe, for that matter), I resorted to viewing the various photos and virtual tours available online in order to properly and accurately write and imagine the building and its corridors. They have been very helpful, but I am still missing a small section of walkway between the entrance to the clock tower and the street. I need to find the most direct passage from the street to the tower entrance, and the virtual tour leaves me at a loss. I can see from the attached screenshot that there seems to be an entrance to the outside. Is there any way you (or someone else) can send me photos or describe to me that entrance– where it leads from, how to get there from the street directly in front of the Clock Tower (despite the fact that people probably aren’t taken that way while on an actual tour)?

If you could provide me with this information or at least the email address of someone who can, I would be forever grateful. At any rate, thank you immensely for your time, and I look forward anxiously to your reply,

Regards,

–Jordan Spencer Cunningham

Author

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